#why did you kill isobel?

[trappedinafantasy37]

Just a quick reminder that Minthara is the only evil aligned companion who does not actively do anything evil and you never actually have to tell her not to do evil things. She only talks evil and suggests evil, but she never does anything evil herself. Now, I know this is gonna be earth shattering and ground breaking news for some people, especially those who've never recruited her, but she never tries to force you to do the evil things she suggests and you can choose not to do them. A lot of people like to act like she's holding a knife to your throat and demanding you be evil or else. But nah, she just calls you a pussy in the background and moves on. And not all of the things she suggests are necessarily evil either.

She explicitly takes orders from you and she will always do what you tell her to do, even the good things. She may bitch about doing good things, but she will still go along with it and give it her all (Hells, sometimes she'll even have fun!). She is willing to put her own desires and ambitions aside to serve a common goal. And there are some good things Minthara does approve of! She is also the only companion who will not abandon you over the choices you make and her hard line is you being an asshole and mistreating her. Minthara will literally follow you from the beginning to the end no matter what happens and no matter what choices you make because she made the oath that she would.

So, if you think she is "too evil" then you need to take a good hard look at yourself cause the only evil she is actively doing is the evil you command her to do. And you have no place to judge her for enjoying the evil when she is just following your orders.

[coriphallus]

The Dark Urge thoughts (and prayers)

anyone whos been following me knows im absolutely not normal about durge and i wanna share some tidbits that are implied, but not necessarily canonised, from their story;

I already made a post about it but it seems like bhaal has a degree of control over whether they live or die. he can deny them death, if they fail the duel with orin.

bhaal can command the slayer. he forces orin to transform if you talk to her about sarevok and the scene makes it clear that its against her will.

bhaal manipulates his kin in a subtler way. in the colony you can find a letter from old durge thats apologising to his father for 'liking' gortash. you can interpret their relationship as something deeper but even if it wasnt, this reads to me as terrified and desperate.

the reason being, if you have a LI in act 2 you get the famous bondage scene. coupled up with the letter above makes me think this is a pattern. bhaal can use their feelings against them. he did it with sarevok and orin's mother, orin's mother and orin, etc... it's not as straightforward as 'if you disobey ill kill the one you love'. you will. durge will.

bhaal is testing them in act 2, he revels in chaos, sure, but in the grand scheme of things he doesn't care about isobel. even if you tell scel that you'll kill her you're told that youre too late, you ignored your urges. from durge, bhaal doesn't expect calm calculated murder, he expects blind obedience. failing to receive that his first punishment is to take away something they cherish. there are no half measures, theres no bargaining with a god.

we get so many snippets of information that this has happened before, their foster family being their first victims. theyre made to kill their support system with their own hands, with no one to blame but themselves. they are actually apologising to their father for being fond of gortash because (in my humble opinion) theyre genuinely afraid.

how many times could this have happened, how many nights durge couldve woken up covered in the blood of someone they love until they gave in, became daddys obedient puppet?

durge is groomed for murder. scel says 'you always failed to conduct yourself without me' and given who he is i dont think hes talking about table manners when he says 'conduct'. durge needs 24/7 oversight to set themselves right lest they get tempted by softer things. lest they dare to step away from bhaals grand plan.

durge do have a choice. just as shadowheart had a choice, just as wyll or astarion had a choice. its a choice only in name.

theres no ending besides refusing bhaal that their friends and LI wont die by their hands. the entire lore of bhaalspawn is that theyre meant to conquer the world in his name and slit their own throat a top the mountain of corpses. as cazador aptly put, 'theyre made to be consumed.'

you can pray to bhaal and the narrator says he won't accept [any offering] but the entire world.

durge (and bhaalspawn) do get some sort of euphoria from murder. they crave it like an addict, but bhaalspawn (on prev games) don't constantly have to grapple with these urges as durge does.

now durge is a slightly special case but not in a good way. its implied that theyre not like a regular bhaalspawn, that theyre made by bhaal directly -so to speak-. which is to say, if youre playing a drow, they are bhaals closest approximation of a drow rather than a drow flesh and blood.

thats why theyre fighting tooth and nail against these urges every step of the way, they are literally bhaal himself(in essence). the personality they develop, the person who calls themselves 'tainted' and 'wretched', the character thats making choices throughout the game, theyre the tumour.

theirs is the story of cycle of abuse cranked up to 1000 and it is in parallel to all other origin companions.

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[bucketsofmonsters]

Deep Water - Part 5

cw: the ocean, begrudging kissing done for practical reasons, discussions of drowning, blood, malnourishment, more tags to be added as the story continues

merman x fem reader

Word count: 3k

read on ao3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Simon wretched. He wretched in front of them and it burned his throat and stung his ego as he emptied his stomachs of human food in front of his human and your awful little friend.

Finn had brought him this. Maybe if you'd brought him food it wouldn't make him feel this awful.

Probably not, but maybe.

He didn't like being brought food by this man anyway. It felt too much like courting. 

He would preen at the idea of you bringing him food if he weren't currently emptying his stomachs in uncomfortably shallow water

Shallow water he bore for you. Not for him. Stupid little man.

He hated that he needed him. Needed him to bring him fish and these horrible toxins they’d decided to try. 

“Probably not bread then,” he heard you say and he shook his head

No. No more of this bread. Not if he had anything to say about it, thank you very much.

“Okay,” your stupid little human said, still looking nervous. As he should be. If you hadn’t stood between them, he’d be dead. Even in the state he was in, he could lure him right in past the rocky shore and into deeper waters. 

But he wouldn’t, for reasons he didn’t like to think about, his stomachs turning again as he did. 

The two of you exchanged words once more, ones he hadn’t been paying attention to, before the stupid human left again. 

You sat on the shore beside him and he pulled himself out of the water next to you. 

His gills ached a little as he shifted so frequently from water to air but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to lay beside you. 

You stared out at the sea, eyes a little distant and yet still warm. Even when they weren’t looking at him.

He couldn’t bring himself to feel jealous, not when he got to look at you like this. Even if that look wasn't directed at him. 

You spoke softly and contemplatively when you did. “They were together. Finn and Isobel. She was my sister, I don’t know if I ever told you about her.”

He shook his head, wishing he knew more of you. Wishing you’d share more of yourself with him.

But he couldn’t really blame you, what had he told you of himself?

“She’s smart,” he said, contented at the fact that Finn had apparently already been rejected by one of your own. 

“Smart?”

“You said were. He is not a suitable mate.”

You shifted on the rocks, something he’d come to realize you did when you’d been made uncomfortable, usually by him. He could rarely understand why, despite how frequently it happened. This was one of those times and he waited, patiently, for you to make it clear to him what he had done. 

“She never left him. They were together until she died.”

“Oh.” A horrible sense of dread overwhelmed him. “How?”

“She drowned,” you said, picking up a rock and throwing it out into the water. 

He was glad you weren’t looking at him, eyes locked into the horizon as you spoke. He was certain the worry was written across every feature on his face. 

Did he do that? He didn't know. That felt worse almost, that someone so dear to you could have been so insignificant to him that he may have killed her without even knowing

“Simon?” you asked, words fading in past the intense, buzzing panic. 

He wasn't sure how he felt when you called him that. A foreign, half-remembered name. You'd seemed displeased the first time he’d told it to you but you continued to use it so it couldn’t have been that bad. 

He’d caught himself calling himself that in his own mind, of late. It was easy to when your voice was the only thing that filled his head. 

He wished he had a name like you did, one he’d been given at birth so that when you said it it felt as if you were speaking him, like you could pour his essence out of your mouth with the affection he often heard in your voice. 

As he focused once again he saw the horrible human, holding a fish this time. He looked worried too and Simon wanted to snap at him for the look. How dare he pity him, he wasn’t to be pitied. He could swallow him up, could fix this problem easily, all on his own. 

And then your panicked eyes under choppy water filled his vision. 

He lowered his head, violence seeping out of him, sufficiently cowed, and took the fish. 

They’d been dead a while and he took no satisfaction in sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. 

Eating above the water was messy. The blood clung to his jaw, dripping down his face as he tore a chunk out of the creature.

If he weren’t so hungry he might’ve cared. 

A ravenous force took him until all he was left with was stubborn meat stuck on bones. 

Only then did he look at you. You looked disgusted with him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He shied away from your gaze, tears welling up in his eyes. 

It felt like everything he did was wrong, displeased you and made you look at him like that. 

He slid wordlessly back into the water, not emerging onto the shore until all the blood had seeped into the water.

The concern was back on your face when he returned. 

“Was that okay?” you prompted him gently as he stared up at you. “You feel a little better now?”

He nodded, eyes locked on yours. 

A soft sigh escaped you, lips barely parting to let it leave you. He wanted to feel it, the gentle air passing over his skin, the soft lips he’d felt against his before. 

“Good,” you said, and your smile reached your eyes. 

It didn’t take long for you to depart, leaving to sleep far away from him. 

He did his best to rest and then he did what he’s begun doing most days, he milled about in the water, lonely and near the shore.

He felt an intense panic when he didn’t have eyes on you. If he could get his hands on you, cold and vulnerable in open waters, so could someone else. 

He wondered what he’d do if someone pulled Finn under. He liked to think he’d be noble and protect him, save someone so dear to you. Or at least that he’d turn and choose to let him go, allow him to be dragged under.

He knew that in all likelihood, he would freeze. He found himself doing that a lot lately. It seemed to come alongside the panic more often than not. 

Later, you came to the shore with your soft eyes and he did what he always did. He fought down overwhelming urges to pull you under, to drown you and feast, to protect you as his mate, to beg you to hunt for him as his body became more and more convinced he had lost the ability to do it himself, to do any number of things you’d despise him for wanting. 

He lay on the shore, frozen, until he felt his mind come back to him. 

The fish had helped, he thought. It didn’t take quite as long for the urges to leave him. 

You came bearing more of them. 

Well, you didn’t. Finn did. But he could pretend, think that maybe he was just carrying them to the shore, that really they were from you. 

He knew that they weren’t but he was no stranger to trying to read intention into the things you did. 

It was so easy to slip into, to pretend every action was a secret message of adoration, just like his were for you. 

But they weren’t and when he allowed himself to pretend all he’d done was hurt you, so he needed to be done with that now. 

If you wanted something from him, you’d tell him. 

If you felt something for him, you’d tell him. 

But you hadn’t, and that was fine. He wouldn’t push. 

But he couldn’t quite stop himself from pretending. Surely it was fine, so long as he didn’t act on it. 

Finn dropped the fish on the shore and Simon dove for them. 

It was unseemly but he couldn’t help it. The hunger had left a steady ache inside him and he would take any chance at relief. 

The basket held a few fish, five or six of them strewn inside. 

It was enough to be full. He could’ve cried at the sight. 

But he had more important things to be doing and so instead, he grabbed the basked firmly and slid back into the water, dragging them under. 

He flipped the basket as he immersed himself in the water so the fish wouldn’t escape him and rise to the surface, holding them protectively to his chest. 

He’d wanted to tear into them on the shore but he’d seen your face the last time. He could not see it again, the revulsion that had painted itself there. 

So instead, no longer dissuaded by your presence, he devoured them.

Blood clouded the water as he ate, swallowing mouthfuls of flesh one after the other.

It wasn’t the safest way to eat, could surely attract attention from other hungry creatures, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d done as much caring as he was capable of. 

When he was done, he returned to the two of you. 

Some of the foam lining the gentle waves ran red, stained by remnants of blood washing to shore. 

You both had the decency not to comment on it, though he watched your eyes flick down and then quickly back up. 

He wondered if you’d begrudge him this too. Your food wasn’t quite as messy as his was, was further from the creatures you ate, even when you ate meat just as he did. 

He’d seen it before, basically unrecognizable, no blood pooling or ripping out bones as you ate. A more seemly affair. 

Finn’s eyes lingered longer on the red, something quietly sad in his eyes, before they darted up to Simon. 

As you sat, fawning over Simon and ensuring he had enough to eat, he found it difficult to bask in your attention the way he wanted, that gaze remaining steadily on him. 

He tried not to notice Finn as often as he could. He brought about feelings that were better avoided, especially in front of you. 

Currently, that was difficult, due to the fact that he was staring Simon down, some horrible thought forming behind his eyes. 

“What’s it like?” he blurted out, cutting you off in a way that made Simon want to snarl at him. “Being under the water like that?” He sounded eager.

“Horrible,” you said with a little huff, your words turning bitter. 

He did not begrudge you for the harshness of your words. He would move to land if he could, to prove to you he held no loyalty for the ocean. 

“No,” Finn tried to clarify. “Not just swimming, actually being able to stay down there, to breathe it and live it.”

“I know,” you insisted. “I’ve been down there. It’s awful.”

Finn’s eyes flicked between the two of you like he was trying to decipher something. “How do you… please tell me you're human. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

You reeled back a little at his words, like the thought of you being like him had never occurred to you. He supposed maybe it hadn’t, maybe the possibility of what things would be like if you were the same hadn’t haunted you as it did him. 

“No,” you said with a swift, decisive shake of your head. “Nothing like that. He just does this strange thing where you can breathe underwater. It’s happened a few times now. It’s awful, I don’t recommend it.”

Your unfavorable words did nothing to snuff out the excitement blooming across his face. “Could you do that to me?”

Simon’s nose wrinkled at the thought. “I’d have to kiss you.”

“Oh. Well, it wouldn’t mean anything, it’s just practical.” 

A spike of panic shot through him at the thought that you believed the same about the kiss you had shared with him. That second one that changed his life.

It was practical, he supposed. At least the first one, underwater with panic in your eyes. The second couldn’t be. He couldn’t make sense of it, refused to accept it. 

But this one could be, he supposed.

He turned to you, unsure what he was looking for. 

You seemed just as uncertain as he felt. You spent a while searching for words, mulling them over, before settling on, “It hurts like hell.”

He was quick to reassure you both that it was fine and he didn’t mind. Simon didn’t much care what he minded. 

But then you sighed, slow and resigned, and gave him a look that if he was reading your expression right, which he’d discovered he often wasn’t, was saying ‘please.’

And he couldn’t disappoint you. 

With a huff and a frustrated look directed at you, he grabbed Finn’s hand and began yanking him back into the water. 

Of course, it would have been easier to simply lure him in, but he had a feeling you would not have approved of that.

So instead he yanked him, slowly but surely, into deeper waters. 

The brush of his lips, however brief, revealed rough lips, not like yours, not soft and sweet and so dear to him.

He did his best to lose the touch in the scramble of pulling him into the water. 

He watched the fight that went on in Finn’s eyes as he tried to convince his brain that he was allowed to breathe, saw the moment of panic when his breath could be held no longer and his body forced him to inhale a heavy breath. 

He knew it was wrong to feel a little swell of satisfaction now that he knew that it hurt to suck in water where air should be, and yet he couldn’t quite muster the shame that should follow such a feeling. 

Only as he saw the pain in his eyes did he realize how horrible of a decision this was for Finn. He’d put himself in so much danger, offered himself up to a siren, for what? To be able to see under the waves for a few more minutes? Surely the man could just go for a swim. 

He didn’t know the truth, that he was probably safer with Simon because at least this way, he’d be left alone by other creatures. He didn’t know that his devotion to you kept him from pulling him down and calling it a freak accident. 

All he knew was that he’d put himself in the water with a starving siren. 

Finn left him behind pretty quickly, moving to investigate the floor of the ocean, trying to look at fish before they swiftly swam away, leaving him behind in cloudy water. 

It felt like an uninteresting affair to Simon but Finn seemed to be getting something from it. 

Some amount of time passed, slipping away as Simon distractedly followed the irritating little human around. 

Eventually, after far too long, he appeared to be done. 

Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe Simon pulled him to shore without a signal. It was hard to read body language when one was irritated. 

With another burst of satisfaction, he pulled Finn onto the shore and watched him heave water from his lungs, some of the embarrassment from the human food incident sinking away. 

Strange. He’d never thought it embarrassing when you’d done it. Now, watching Finn deposit ocean water onto the sand with wet hacking noises, he thought that it was a shameful affair. 

“That was incredible,” Finn managed to gasp out after a few minutes of heaving. 

It didn’t feel right, that he’d taken him down there. That his lips had touched Finns.

He turned to look at you, sitting beside him on the shore, a sympathetic grimace on your face as you watched Finn. 

And then he leaned in and kissed you. 

Not a practical kiss, with no intent to put you anywhere near the water, but one born of only affection. 

It was a brief thing and when he pulled away, you looked almost panicked. 

His heart sank at the realization he’d messed it up again, done something strange and wrong and made you afraid of him. 

But then the tension began to fade from your body, panic shifting into confusion.

“Why did you do that? Am I going into the water?”

He shook his head, face still inches from yours. “I just needed to. I’m sorry if I was wrong.”

He heard something from Finn and refused to turn and look at him when you were so close. It sounded almost like a cough, but not the painful, wet coughs of breathing air once more. It was a short stunted thing. 

Simon, without turning, announced in response to this strange noise, “You can leave.”

A fit of laughter escaped you at his words, burying your head in your hands as you giggled.

He hadn’t been joking.

That was fine though. He liked it when you laughed, even if it was at him. It was never cruel, always soft and with nothing but shining amusement in your eyes.

He wished he was better at making jokes.

When he tried you just stood and stared and when he did not you laughed.

But then, he was never the best at knowing when to laugh either. There was a kinship in that, at least.

When he thought he might be laughing out of turn too much, he suppressed it. You didn't. He thought maybe your smile was too bright to keep down, that maybe it would hurt you like keeping in your air did.

His heart sank a little as he remembered.

Hurting you. The horrible realization that he'd hurt them all.

Maybe some of them laughed out of turn too. He'd never know.

Maybe your sister had.

He turned to leave. He couldn't stand to be here any longer.

He should tell you. He knew he should. But his jaw felt locked shut and his body felt like it was being pulled away, out of his control. 

And so, like a coward, he fled, the water drowning out the sounds of laughter that he left behind.

[euryalex]

Baldur's Gate 3 Tav Ask List

May contain spoilers!! Please reblog!

• Origin & Class 1. What is their backstory and why did you choose it? 2. What is their class (+ subclass) and why did you choose it? 3. Do they multiclass? Why (not)? 4. Is there a reason why your Tav starts out as Level 1? 5. Does your Tav have family members? Are they close? 6. Does your Tav have any friends from their past? Are they still friends? 7. Does your Tav have connections to other characters (I.e.: NPCs)? 8. Where did your character live before the events of the game? 9. Does your Tav have a different class/race/origin than in the game? (I.e.: Your Tav is Aasimar, fisherman backstory ...) 10. What was your Tav like as a child?

• Prologue 11. What goes through your Tav's head when they wake up on the Nautiloid? Are they scared or do they push those feelings aside to focus on escaping? 12. How does your Tav feel about Us? Did they free them, maim them or leave them behind? 13. What was your Tav's first reaction to Lae'Zel? 14. What was your Tav's first reaction to Shadowheart? 15. Does your Tav use their Arcana knowledge to free Shadowheart or do they use the rune found in the next room? 16. Does your Tav help the mindflayer against Commander Zhalk or do they run straight to the helm? 17. Does your Tav's starting armor reflect them? If not, what would they wear instead? 18. If you could, would your Tav see any of the other companions? If so, how would they react? 19. What's your Tav's personality like at the start of the game? Does it change as the game goes on? 20. Finally, what does your Tav feel as the Nautiloid crashes? Are they scared? Are they thinking of a way to survive?

• Act 1 21. Which companion do you get first? If you get Shadowheart first no matter what, who's the second one? 22. What is your Tav's first impression of the other companions (Astarion, Gale, Karlach, Wyll ...) 23. What's their opinion of Emerald Grove? Do they help the tieflings or side with the druids? 24. How does your Tav feel about Mol and her friends? 25. What does your Tav think of Aradin? 26. What does your Tav think of the Raphael? 27. Does your Tav adopt Scratch and the Owlbear cub? Did you name him? 28. What does your Tav think of Auntie Ethel? What do they tell Mayrina? 29. What does your Tav do about the Goblin camp? Do they free Halsin or side with Minthara? What's their opinion of them? 30. Who does your Tav think of when they go to sleep at the goblin/tiefling party? Or are they lucky and do they get to spend the night with the person they want? 31. What does your Tav think of the Underdark and the Myconids? 32. Does your Tav help Glut or do they fight him? 33. Do you bring the potion ingredients to Omeluum and, if so, did you drink it? Did you barter for his ring? 34. Does your Tav react to the Sussur flower (Sorcerer) or how would they react if it affected them? 35. Do they deliver Nere's head to the Myconids and save the slaves? 36. Did your Tav fight the Forge Protector? How did the fight go for them? 37. Did your Tav go to Creche Y'llek? Did they know something was up with the healer? 38. Did your Tav deface the portrait of Vlaakith? 39. Did your Tav get the Blood of Lathandar? 40. Did your Tav agree to kill the Guardian or did they go talk to them instead?

• Act 2 41. Which way did they take? Did they run into Elminster? What was their opinion of his news for Gale? 42. How does your Tav react to the shadow curse? Are they scared of the dark? 43. What does your Tav think of Jaheira and the Harpers? 44. What does your Tav think of Isobel? 45. Does your Tav help Mol win against Raphael? 46. Does your Tav help Astarion make a deal with Raphael? 47. Does your Tav help Markus or do they warn Isobel? 48. Does your Tav steal the moonlantern from Kar'Niss or do they fight him? 49. How does your Tav react to Ketheric Thorm? What about his family (Gerringothe Thorm, Malus Thorm ...)? 50. Does your Tav save the tieflings & gnomes? 51. What does your Tav think of the Gauntlet of Shar? 52. What does your Tav think of Dame Aylin? 53. Did your Tav help Art Cullagh? 54. What did your Tav tell Arabella about her parents? 55. Did your Tav reunite with Us? 56. What did your Tav think of the Mindflayer colony? 57. Did your Tav free Zevlor? Did they free Mizora? 58. Did your Tav complete the Brain Node puzzle? 59. Did you use the Minds you find on the head near the brain node puzzle? 60. Did you clear Moonrise Towers of the shadow curse?

• Act 3 61. How does your Tav feel about Baldur's Gate? Is it their home? Is it their first time in the city? 62. What's their first impression when they enter Rivington? 63. If Shadowheart got a new haircut, how does your Tav react? 64. What does your Tav do with the trapped kids' toys? 65. Does your Tav go to the circus? Do they like the activities? 66. Does your Tav help with the murder investigation? 67. Does your Tav meet Tara? What's their opinion? 68. What does your Tav do with the Mindflayer in the windmill? 69. Does your Tav run into Orin? If so, what's their first opinion? 70. Does your Tav make a deal with Raphael? 71. Does your Tav 'spend time' at Sharess' Caress? 72. How does your Tav enter the city? 73. Do they free Florrick? 74. What do they do at Gortash' coronation? 75. What does your Tav do with the serial killer running rampant? 76. Does your Tav tell Dame Aylin about Lorroaken? Do they help her fight him? 77. Does your Tav go to the House of Hopes? If so, do they sleep with Haarlep? 78. Does your Tav help the Wavemother? 79. Does your Tav rescue the prisoners in the Iron Throne? 80. Does your Tav free the slaves from Steel Watch Foundry? Do they side with the Gondians or with Wulbren? 81. If you saved Oskar in Act 1, did you meet him again? If so, did you help him? Did you side with the Mystic Carrion or with Thrumbo? 82. What does your Tav do with the Counting House robbery? 83. Does your Tav reunite with Mayrina? Do they fight Auntie Ethel? Do they save Vanra? 84. Does your Tav find all of Dribbles' body parts? 85. Who did Orin abduct from your party? 86. Did your Tav complete the trial of Bhaal? 87. Did your Tav side with Gortash or did they agree to kill him for Orin? 88. Does your Tav successfully resist the Nether Brain? 89. Does your Tav side with the Emperor or do they free Orpheus? Do they become Illithid to use the Nether Stones or does one of their companions do it? Do they give the Nether Stones to the Emperor/Orpheus? 90. Do they betray the Emperor/Orpheus/their companions for the Absolute?

• Epilogue 91. Does your Tav get a happily ever after? 92. Where does your Tav end up after defeating/siding with the Nether Brain? 93. What do you think happens to the party, afterwards? Do they go for drinks? Do they go their separate ways? 94. Years after the game, what do you think your Tav is up to? 95. What do you think of your Tav's development throughout the game? If you compared them to who they were at the start, what would be different?

• Companions 96. Does Lae'Zel remain loyal to Vlaakith, or does she follow Orpheus? Or neither? 97. Does Astarion kill Cazador? Does he remain a vampire spawn or does he complete the ritual? 98. What does Gale want? The crown for himself? For Mystra? Or has he given up on chasing power? 99. Did Wyll get freed from Mizora? Did he save his father? 100. Did Karlach get upgraded? Did she turn Illithid? Did she return to Avernus? If so, did Tav join her, or Wyll, or both? 101. Did your Tav recruit Minsc? What's their opinion of him? 102. Did Shadowheart turn to Selûne or did she remain loyal to Shar? Did she free her parents or let them go? 103. Did Tav help Jaheira with the Harpers? 104. Who did your Tav romance? How did this romance develop throughout the game? What happened at the end?

105. Anything you want to say about your Tav! Give a random headcanon, answer a random question, say whatever you want!

[autistichalsin]

A Durge Theory

This is my theory for my Durge, and resist!Durge in general, but obviously YMMV with your own!

So, the core of this is the memories that are unlocked if you either give Durge a noblestalk or use Heal on them. Two in particular are relevant here:

If you eat the noblestalk but haven't met Sceleritas Fel yet, your memory is of murdering a newborn.

If you have Heal cast on you while not having eaten the mushroom nor having resisted Bhaal yet, you see a memory of having murdered a family, very likely the one that took them in.

In the first case, you have a few options for reacting, one of which is, "Delve: why did it die?" The Narrator then says (in a way that indicates it might be your own thoughts): "*Better to die than live on an earth walked by you. Each of your deaths is a mercy.*"

Durge, despite their brutality, despite their affinity for torture, ultimately views their deaths as merciful, because even torture is better than living in the same world as them. That..... is a staggering amount of self-loathing.

For the second option, Durge has a few options, all of which lead to Sceleritas taunting him: "Young Master, precious fledgling, follow ever your heart. In time, your true family will find you." Durge was quite young when their Urge first took over, and it was noted that after this, they tried to fight it off a few times unsuccessfully before giving in fully and entering the Cult of Bhaal.

Further, we also know that Durge has often not been in control of themself while committing murders, though they were for some, too. For Alfira or Quill's murder, they explicitly say it was in their sleep; if they get Steelclaw killed, they have no memory of doing it; if they choose to go to sleep rather than warn their lover after sparing Isobel, they'll wake to find their partner dead.

This suggests to me that in addition to the Urge itself, it is very possible that at times, Bhaal directly possessed Durge to make sure they killed in situations Bhaal wanted them to- particularly when Bhaal wanted them to experience bloodlust, and was angry they seemed to have forgotten this part of themselves.

So... piercing all of this together, we have my heartbreaking headcanon for resist!Durge, and especially for my Durge Kiaran.

Durge/Kiaran was taken in by a loving foster family. They loved to play and were sweet- which angered Bhaal. He needed his spawn to feel bloodlust.

So Bhaal possessed them and made them murder the very family that took them in, quite possibly including a newborn sibling. Durge started to develop an appetite for killing, as Bhaal planned, and was also overcome with grief and self-loathing, feeling they were a monster- which Bhaal also planned. Bhaal made sure the Urge persisted, and all the while, Scleritas kept appearing to taunt and guide them towards their "real family," a group of murderers who understood them better than anyone else.

Feeling there was nothing else a monster like them could do but embrace their nature, Durge finally entered the cult, rose through its ranks, and became feared and admired for their ability to create mountains of bodies. All the while, though, they loathed themselves, feeling that even their worst, most torturous deaths were a better fate than sharing the world with them.

After the Nautiloid, Bhaal tried to reignite Durge's bloodlust with more forced murders, but the brain damage from Orin had truly severed the part of themself that had given in to Bhaal, allowing them to fight back the Urge and become their own person at last.

It fits in so well with the game's themes of gods being willing to completely and utterly fuck over even their worshippers just to get what they want, and many other themes the game hits on too (especially trauma, loss, and accountability for past actions counterbalanced with the ability to change, grow, and be better.)

[theeoriginals]

Idea: Reader is part of the scooby gang (an adult doing them a favour or something - pls not a teenager it makes me cringe) and Klaus catches her staring (because obviously) and is cocky and flirty and likes riling her up

i just like you | klaus mikaelson

author's note; this was so fun omfg i love him sm

warnings: honestly sort of grumpyxsunshine but somehow klaus is the sunshine here ? teasing, taunting, klaus is a flirty menace, reader is super in denial, implied that reader is a vampire hunter but it's not really important, also this exists in some sort of strange canon universe so don't read into it too much, fluff, making out, a steamy-ish scene at the end, but it doesn't get too graphic so don't worry! no use of y/n!

She doesn’t like owing people favors. She doesn’t like when other people owe her favors, either, but people seem to think that trading things off is the best way to live, and she’s hardly got the power to change something so universally accepted. 

She doesn’t like owing people favors, but in this case, it’s not something she can renegotiate. Alaric saved her life, and the least she could do is help him out with something. 

Her view on that changes very quickly when he looks at her and tells her they want her to make a deal with the devil. In fact, she’d rather Alaric had just let her die than ask her to do anything with or for Klaus Mikaelson. 

“I would quite literally rather die than do that, Ric,” She deadpans, givin him a completely unamused look that makes him grimace. 

“No, I know, I know,” He holds his hands up, a desperation to his pleading tone. “It’s a lot to ask of you, but no one else can deal with him like you do. They’d end up dead, or something,” 

“Why do you think I can deal with him any differently than you, or Damon, or something? I hate him just as much!” 

“Oh, well, that’s just not very nice of you, darling,” The man in question drawls, smirk audible in his voice as they look over to where he’s sitting on Alaric’s couch, looking like he practically lives there. She supposes he technically did, for a minute. “Hate is such a strong word.” 

She gives him a saccharine smile, tilting her head. “I’m so sorry, Klaus, did I hurt your feelings? I didn’t know that evil hybrids who kill anyone who breathes wrong could have feelings.” 

Klaus’s smirk only widens at her visible ire, and he props his chin up on his hand as he looks at her. “I have every feeling for you, sweetheart,” 

Her eyes momentarily widen to the size of dinner plates, and then she quickly schools her expression back into a flat glare, snapping her gaze away from him as she huffs unhappily. “You want me to deal with that all day, Alaric? By myself? I thought we were friends,” 

“We are friends,” He stresses, shooting Klaus a warning look that the Original dutifully ignores. “That’s why I’m asking you to do this. All you have to do is make the drive up to Whitmore and get the rest of Isobel’s stuff– we need to see if she has any information on the cure, or anything like that.” 

“Doesn’t Bonnie have that professor guy that was telling her a bunch of stuff? Can’t we just go to him?” 

“Damon doesn’t trust that guy,” Alaric says. “And before you ask, no, you can’t make Damon go. He and Klaus will kill each other if they’re in the same vehicle for that long.” 

“He’s right about that,” Klaus says, still happily in his place on the couch. “Damon’s got such a temper these days. Can’t even handle a joke anymore.” 

She scrunches her face up, giving him an incredulous look. “The only jokes you make are about the time you tried to kill Elena,” 

“How would we cope if we couldn’t make jokes about these sorts of things?” 

Her incredulity only deepens and she drags her gaze back to Alaric pointedly, earning an exhausted sigh from the teacher. “Klaus,” He starts, that same desperation still in his voice. “Can we all just play nice? For once we have something to be united about– could you possibly not jeopardize everyone’s lives again?” 

Klaus heaves a sigh, standing from the couch in a swift movement and crossing the short distance to where they stand. “Certainly. I’m nothing if not professional, you know this.” 

“Uh huh,” Alaric deadpans. “Can you be… professional enough to not provoke her into leaving you stranded somewhere, or something?” 

“I’m sure we can work something out,” The hybrid drops his gaze to hers, bright eyes alight with mischief. “So long as she stops pouting.” 

She huffs, dutifully not pouting. Narrowing her eyes, she offers a hand out to him, ignoring the amusement that sparks in his eyes at her formalness. “It’s for the greater good of all of us, right? I’m sure I can suffer through anything for that.” 

Klaus shakes her hand firmly, and she ignores the way it feels like he’s laughing at her. “I’m sure you can.” 

────── 

“I take it all back, I’m going to murder him, and then myself.” 

“Hello to you, too. I take it it’s going well?” Alaric’s voice comes through the speaker of her phone as she walks beside Klaus, ignoring the crowds of college students they’re pushing their way past to head to Isobel’s old office. 

“Oh, it’s going so well, besides the fact that our vehicle just broke down as soon as we got to Whitmore.” 

She can practically hear Alaric’s wince of sympathy through the phone. “Can’t Klaus just compel you another vehicle?” 

“You would think so, but I already tried that, and he said it wouldn’t be very cooperative of him to take advantage of people. He’s apparently all for the teamwork these days,” She shoots him a glare, face twisting into one of disdain when all he does is give her a wide smirk. “Alaric, I cannot be stranded here with him. It was one thing if it was a few hours, but I cannot survive any longer than that.” 

Alaric breathes out her name on an exasperated sigh, and she tries to ignore the slight pin prick of guilt that stabs at her because of it. “Have you called a mechanic or anything?” 

She bites the tip of her tongue roughly. “Yeah. They’re coming to tow it, and they said it’ll be like, tomorrow morning at the earliest before it’s done.” 

“Can you survive the night? For real? Or do you want me to drive up there and get you?” 

She nearly blurts out that she won’t survive, that he needs to come get her as soon as he leaves work, but she stops herself, eyes drifting to Klaus, who seems to be awaiting her answer as well. Sighing tiredly, she shakes her head, even though Alaric can’t see her. “I’ll be fine, I’m just being dramatic. Don’t worry about me, alright? I– Klaus and I will handle this. It’s no big deal, I promise.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m positive,” She reassures, stopping at the steps that lead to Isobel’s office building. “I’ll text you later tonight after we’ve had some time to go through some of the stuff, okay?” 

“Okay. Thank you,” He sounds infinitely less stressed at her reassurances, and the guilt she’d been feeling dissipates easily. “I’ll talk to you later.” 

She echoes the goodbye and quickly pockets her phone again, immediately turning to Klaus to give him a glare that she can’t even really call a glare because of the complete and utter lack of any real heat behind it. Gesturing widely to the building before them, she sighs. “Let’s get this over with.” 

The office is devoid of any lingering students, and she wonders if it was done on purpose. The only person there besides her and Klaus is the girl at the desk, and she racks her brain for the girl’s name, because Alaric had told her earlier before they left. 

“Hi,” She starts, stepping in front of Klaus slightly as they approach the desk. “Alaric called earlier and said we’d be coming up to get some of Isobel’s research, I think?” 

The girl stands, a small smile on her face as she nods. “Of course. I’m Vanessa, I was Isobel’s intern.” 

Vanessa, she internally scolds herself for not remembering, before giving her name back in return. “And this is Klaus.” 

The Original offered a charming smile, and she saw some degree of recognition flutter in Vanessa’s eyes as her smile grew wider, equally charmed and awed. “Lovely to meet you, Vanessa,” 

“You’re Klaus Mikaelson, aren’t you?” She breathes out, shaking her head in disbelief as she leads them to Isobel’s private office. “Isobel was fascinated  with the story of the Originals, but there wasn’t ever enough information to figure out what was true and what wasn’t.” 

Klaus hums, practically preening under the attention. “Such are the consequences of living as long as I have. I can hardly remember what’s real and what’s not,” 

Vanessa’s face lights up with an idea, and she steps towards Klaus excitedly. “Would you mind if I asked you some questions? It would do our research a lot of good to have something new,” 

“Oh, well–” 

“We have a lot to do,” She quickly cuts in over their voices, offering a sharp smile to Vanessa. “But if we have time later, I’m sure he’d love to give you a tell-all interview.” 

Vanessa’s smile dims slightly but she nods, gesturing for them to go into the open office. “It’s all in there. Let me know if you need my help with anything.” 

“We will definitely do that,” She says, ignoring the twitch in her fingers as pushes Klaus into the office ahead of her. “Thank you so much!” 

She shuts the door firmly behind her and lets out a sharp sigh, her eyes fluttering open where she hadn’t even realized they’d shut. She finds Klaus staring at her, and immediately looks away, ducking past him to head for one of the packed boxes in the office, collecting dust. “What?” 

Klaus makes an amused little hum in the back of his throat. “Oh, nothing,”

“There’s clearly something,” 

“There is, but I don’t think you’d enjoy hearing it from me,” 

She halts her movements, hands falling limp on the file folders sorted neatly inside one box. Turning to look at him over her shoulder, she raises a brow. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m curious as to what Vanessa did to earn your disdain,” He says, shrugging lightly, keeping his voice purposefully aloof. 

She rolls her eyes, returning to pilfering through the box, skimming the labels on the file. “She was distracting you. We came here to do something, and we need to do it. That’s all.” 

He makes that irritating noise again, and she pauses once more, this time turning to face him fully. “What? What is so funny about that? Might I remind you, we need to learn about this cure for you just as much as anyone else.” 

He smirks, picking up a box from the floor and putting it on the table in front of him. “Of course. But only if you admit you were jealous,”

She feels the blood in her veins freeze as she stares at him, and she knows there’s a dawning look of horror growing on her face. “Excuse me?” 

“Just admit that you were jealous of that poor girl in there, and I will do as much research as you want me to. It’s very simple.” 

“Jealous,” She echoes, her voice faint the longer she looks at him. “You think that I was jealous because some college kid was treating you like you were the lead singer in her favorite boy band?” 

“Maybe not her favorite boy band, but certainly her favorite Original,” He corrects, grinning deviously. 

“I wasn’t jealous!” She yells somewhat hysterically, face twisting as her pulse races. “I– I have no reason to be jealous, I would never be jealous, I’m not– I’m not jealous! Just– shut up!” 

She waves a hand in his direction, ignoring the warmth in her chest that stings like embarrassment. “Just– shut up, and– and leave me alone! Do what we came here to do,” 

Klaus holds his hands up in surrender, still smiling like the cat that got the cream. “Whatever you say,” 

────── 

They’ve booked a hotel for the night, despite the fact that she’d sooner sleep on the street than stay in a hotel with Klaus Mikaelson. But he graciously offered to pay for it, and she was determined to pretend like their conversation earlier had never happened and that meant acting like absolutely nothing was wrong. 

It meant letting him order them room service, and sitting quietly while they ate. It meant letting him tease and taunt her like he normally did, and working overtime to give him the normal reactions she would have– a glare here and there, a not-so-nice name everywhere else. 

Except now it felt like it was all wrong. It felt like she was being even more obvious than before. All because he called her out. Because he was right. 

Just out of sheer principle, she couldn’t ever tell him that. The last thing he needed was that particular ego boost, from her of all people. 

Their relationship has always been antagonistic, but Klaus has never been nearly as harsh as she has. And now that she’s spent the last six hours thinking about every single interaction they’ve ever had, she feels somewhat stupid for not even letting herself contemplate the idea that she could one day be jealous over Klaus Mikaelson. 

But even in that same vein, she understands why it never crossed her mind until he pointed it out. It was non-negotiable, having any sort of relationship like that with Klaus. She’d been friends with Alaric since he first met Isobel, she couldn’t just go and sleep with the guy who killed his girlfriend, let alone have feelings for him. 

The thought alone made her stomach swirl with guilt, but she was determined to not let Klaus in on any of her inner turmoil, considering he’d get some insane satisfaction out of the fact that it’s all his fault. 

By the time they make their way to the private bedroom in the ridiculously grand hotel room Klaus had gotten them for the night, it doesn’t really register in her mind that they not only don’t have any sort of pajamas due to the fact that this wasn’t supposed to be an overnight trip, but the only bedroom in the suite has one bed. 

It doesn’t register in her mind until she’s already in bed, resigned to the fact that she’ll be sleeping in her t-shirt and underwear, and Klaus makes his way over to the bed like it’s no big deal. 

“Hey, hey, what the hell are you doing?” 

He raises a brow at her, gesturing to the bed. “Going to bed. We’ve got an early morning ahead of us if you have any chance of making it back to Mystic Falls alive.” 

She rolls her eyes at his taunting recollection of her complaints, and she holds up a hand, keeping the blankets tucked carefully around her hips as she sits up. “Why wouldn’t you get a room with two beds?” 

“Because it’s one night, darling,” He drawls, signature smirk twitching on his lips. “But if you have some particular feeling that would make sharing a bed with me uncomfortable, then I–”

“No!” She cuts him off, feeling like she was just backed into a corner. “No issue. Just– keep your hands to yourself.” 

He winks at her, and she ignores the way it makes her heart race. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” 

She shuffles back down into the bed and turns onto her side away from him, suddenly too conscious of the fact that she doesn’t have any pants on, and that if someone had told her this morning she’d be pantsless, in bed with Klaus Mikaelson, she probably would’ve punched them and then spent the rest of her life dreaming about it. 

It’s only slightly humiliating. 

Once Klaus is settled in the bed, presumably undressed to the same degree she is if the shuffling she’d heard a minute ago was anything to go by, he turns the lamp off, encasing them in darkness. 

After too long, her hip starts to ache the longer she lays on her side, and she knows there’s no chance she’ll fall asleep with it throbbing like it is, so she resigns herself to the fact that she’s going to have to move. 

Careful of her spacial awareness, she turns onto her back, and then onto her other side, unable to stop her eyes from landing on the shadows of Klaus’s profile. 

She lets out a small breath, shakier than normal, and clutches her hand against the pillow beneath her head. 

“You’re staring,” 

She groans quietly. “I am not,” 

“You know, I don’t know if I should be honored or not that you don’t act like this with anyone else.” 

She squeezes the pillow again, brows furrowing on her forehead. Her curiosity piqued, despite her best interests. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, you’re horrifically antagonistic on a good day, and downright murderous on a bad one. But you don’t ever lose your temper with anyone else like you do with me,” He observes, voice unintentionally quiet in the privacy of the darkness. If she didn’t know any better, she’d even say it was laced with fondness. 

Pressing her face into her pillow briefly to try and collect herself, she lets her eyes trace the curve of his nose, and his prominent cupid’s bow, backlit by the moon shining in the window. She wonders what he looks like beneath a full moon. She wonders if his eyes shine that burning yellow-gold color the entire night. 

“You do it on purpose,” She mutters, trying to keep her tone from sounding as childish as it does in her head. “I’m not stupid, Klaus. You like riling me up.” 

She hears more than sees his head turn towards her, but she feels the burn of his eyes on her face like the summer sun. 

“Did you ever consider that I just like when you talk to me?” He asks, sounding entirely more vulnerable than she ever thought he was capable of being. 

Her breath stutters on an exhale, and she knows he can hear the way his words make her entire body trip up. Despite being unable to truly meet his eyes in the dark, she searches for them anyway, seeking out the truth that may lie in them. 

He murmurs her name, soft and sweet between the sheets wrapped around them, and she can’t stop herself from pushing forward into his space, draping herself across his chest as she presses their lips together. 

She’s instantly satisfied to hear the shocked noise that spills from his lips, but it’s the last coherent thought she can form once he mirrors her utter desperation. 

He steals the breath from her lungs, barely letting her gasp between his greedy kisses, his hands pulling her further into him, leaving her practically on top of him. 

His hands slide up the fabric of her shirt, grabbing at the bare skin there, groaning at the feel of her moving beneath his touch. 

“Klaus,” She gasps out, panting at the spit-slick sounds of their lips together in the quiet of the hotel room. “Klaus, I have to–” 

She forcibly pulls herself away from him, unable to even blame him for the way she let herself get so caught up as she catches her breath, looking down from where she’s propped above him. 

They fall silent, matching each other’s frantic but slowing breaths as their spilled-over tension finally seems to simmer out. 

A huff of a laugh comes from beneath her and she frowns slightly, looking at him. “What?” 

His hands clench where they’re still gripping her waist, and she visibly shivers at the rough touch. “You were jealous, weren’t you?” 

She instinctively slaps a hand against his bare shoulder, wondering how she hadn’t noticed he’d taken his shirt off when he got into bed. “You are such a dick,” She shakes her head, but she’s already leaning back in to kiss him again despite herself. 

Klaus is quick to meet her halfway, craning his neck up to kiss her again, and she lets out a sudden yelp as he flips them around, pressing her into the mattress beneath him. “Let me make it up to you,” 

She’s nodding before he even finishes speaking, and she thinks, tells herself, that she can’t be faulted for how quickly she forgives him after that.

[waffelteufel]

Random Dark Urge stuff that blew my mind because it's so fun (and terrifying) [SPOILERS BELOW]

The Alfira scene came totally unexpected and I was literally sitting there with my mouth agape because I was so used to how cute EA had been

Those moments where the Urge gets to you and your character just suddenly goes >:) like a little evil shit

Those random over the top dialogue options

The way you can literally tell your companions from the start that you are a bit cray cray but they're all just "Ah don't worry about it we're literally killing people every day now. We're all a little evil right now :) Just put in that energy when we need it :)" and when you get to That Scene (tm) with your Love Interest in act 2 they suddenly go "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME" I DID!!! I DID TELL YOU SFHFSF

THAT SCENE IN ACT2 WITH YOUR LOVE INTEREST... That you can just murder them there?? And you have to roll against yourself? So good

The fact you can try to fucking bite them and sob uncontrollably?? Cinnamon Topography as they say.

You were besties with Gortash!! "I can tolerate Orin. But I liked you". Hello??? I want to be besties with him again???? Gorty let's become Team Rocket please.

Gortash saying that he missed your dark humour or something of the like.

Orin and Durge's rivarly. Slaughter-Kin. Queen...

That lady at the end of act 2 that did horrifying experiments on you and became obsessed?? It was sooo uncomfortable but like in a masochistic way. Fucked up and amazing.

Finding your pod in that mindflayer place and asking Astarion "Humour me Astarion. What does that blood smell like?" "[SNIFF SNIFF] Oh that's you. I can recognize that everywhere lol"

The way Astarion's and your own personal quest mirror each other in a way.

Those dialogue options after you refused to kill Isobel, Nightsong and your Love Interest where it sounds like you are some evil puppy trying to atone for your sins to the most random people, like the freaking circus guy, and going like "I used to be a crazy murderous maniac but I am trying to change my ways <3"

If you get Heal cast on yourself (that high level spell that gives you like 70 HP) you get a mini cutscene in which Durge's mind "knits back together" for a moment and you remember a scene from your childhood. This was so unexpected, I did NOT expect a random spell to trigger story and I loved that.

Realising that you were involved in stealing the Crown from Mephistopheles vault, and that you've been to the Nine Hells before. Finding this out only a little bit after Raphael bitched to you about that lmao.

The fact you're literally playing one of the main bad guys, but with amnesia, and you realise this only in act 3.

[moghedien]

god there’s like no lack of things you can point out about Ketheric that’s incredibly fucked up but I’m just fixated on him having wings sewn onto the minion he sends to kidnap Isobel

Because regardless of what Isobel thinks about the origins of those wings, it’s something they both understand would be very intentional and fucked but the fact that she thinks Aylin is dead could easily still lead her to believe that he has Aylin’s body and is using it like this.

But at least then it’d be her dead body, because based on info you find later, it’s heavily implied that those are Aylin’s wings and we know she is still alive and there are hints that this isn’t the first time she’s been an “unwilling donor” to Balthazar’s fucked experiments. If they can kill her over and over again for Sharran ritual and she keeps coming back, why couldn’t they cut off her wings over and over as they regenerate with the rest of her? the dread I felt when I read that fucking note.

Ketheric coulda chose any number of ways to try to take back Isobel. You know him sending a man wearing Aylin’s wings to take her was intentional and you can’t tell me he still loves Isobel and did THAT. It’s beyond a fucked up idea of protecting or holding onto her, that was supposed to hurt her.

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered if I Could Come Home? (Dadstarion x F! Reader) Part Five, MDNI 18+

Synopsis: Astarion takes off after a frustrating day with Eowyn, leaving both of you feeling abandoned. Astarion makes things right. Poor Eowyn has a tummy ache and I continue to be terrible at writing synopses.

Content Warning: Abandonment wounds, dead dove, fainting, SMUT, PIV, bathtub smut, also it's long.

Part 4 : Part 6 : Master List

 “It’s going to be okay,” you sing through your tears, Eowyn continues to wail, “it’s going to be okay- we have each otherrrr and mommy loves youuuuu and we will be-“

 You choke on your own lie.

 It’s been hours- four and a half, in fact- since Astarion blew up and stormed out. Eowyn hadn’t stopped crying- her little tummy hurts, but she is also hungry so the confusion hasn’t been helping and neither has the insane amount of spit up. 

 She knows her dad has left, you know her dad has left, and you are both coming to terms that it’s just you two now. Your head is throbbing and your vision is spotted- you feel like you could collapse at any given moment. 

 Astarion had probably changed his shirt for the sixth time and he was going to change it a seventh when you suggested he wait until she is asleep so that he won’t have to do so much laundry. It had been an innocent suggestion- you were going to clean his laundry anyway because you know the whole spit up thing was making his skin crawl.

For whatever reason, that had set him off.

“How dare you tell me what to do when your devil child refuses to give me even five seconds to think!” He seethed, fangs bared like when he killed Cazador and you were frozen- Eowyn also stopped crying and whimpered, “I can’t take this anymore! I can’t fucking do this!”

 You are still shaking in the aftermath of that and you refuse to go up to your room. You aren’t ready to see all of his things gone. He can get in through the window and that’s how he left last time. 

 Last time. You sob. I am such a moron. Why did I ever think he would actually stay?

  Eowyn spits up more and more- you are trying to help her feel better and hope Shadowheart comes back today from her trip. You would take her to a healer but you can’t leave the house looking like this and with no one to watch Eowyn… 

 You had been so prepared to be a single mother before Astarion came back. You had had it all down to a T- you had a plan in place. Shadowheart was going to stay with you and help you until you got into your rhythm. Isobel and Dame Aylin were going to be here. It had all been so well planned, but you told everyone it would be okay! You had Astarion! You were going to do this parenting thing together! 

 The door opens and Shadowheart comes walking in- all smiles with bags in hand- but is immediately over there in a second. She uses lesser restoration on Eowyn and calm- why didn’t you think to use calm? Her crying ceases and she relaxes in Shadowheart’s arms falling asleep. 

 You laugh- you laugh so hard you become hysterical. Shadowheart tries to help you sit on the couch, but you are frozen in place.

You think you may have truly, truly lost it this time. 

  You now have to tell her that she was right and letting Astarion back was trouble- the only person in the entire world who can seem to calm your child down because you are too busy being a sniffling mess. 

You are a failure of a mother, Tav. How dare you break Eowyn’s heart by allowing her to meet him at all. 

 The laughter doesn’t cease- you feel basically crazy. The last thing you remember is hearing someone rush up the stairs before falling to the ground.

     +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 Astarion has never moved faster and yet he still only barely grabbed you before you hit the ground. 

 He had finally felt like he blew off more than enough steam to be able to come back and apologize a hundred thousand times over for his reaction. 

 And for his genetics because he is certain that’s where Eowyn got her pipes from.

 He had felt himself snap and he knew it was because he was starving. It wasn’t just that Eowyn was crying and sick, he felt helpless, but it made him feel good that she felt much better laying against him when her temperature was all over the place.

 You had looked exhausted and Astarion was once again reminded that he can’t be left alone with Eowyn just yet. He felt like an utter failure. 

 Astarion destroyed an entire bandit camp and then another and then another until he was-

Well fed

Entirely decompressed

Confident enough in his capabilities to go back and be the parent you know he is capable of being.

  He went to the healer’s shop to get something to soothe Eowyn’s tummy, but the healer was out of herbs. She told him where to find more and he even brought back extra so that the shop had it in stock. She paid him and tried to flirt with him, but he made it abundantly clear that the vomit on his shirt was from his child that he adores along with his absolutely lovely partner that carried her. 

 That little side quest turned into going to the local market to get all your favorite foods, new bath soaps, a very comfortable pair of pajamas he thinks you would look adorable in, and a ring. Astarion isn’t sure when he will pop the question, but he wants to and he saw the perfect ring- how could he not buy it? 

 He even bought new soap that is your favorite scent. Astarion knows you intend on washing his clothing after this affair, but once he gets Eowyn and you down for a nap (you worry so much about her sleeping with her tummy like this), he would wash all of the clothes soiled in the span of mere minutes- yours, his, and Eowyn’s.

 He knew something was wrong when he walked up to the house and the door was wide open with Shadowheart’s things lazily left out on the patio. Astarion had felt paralyzed- did he leave and something truly bad happened? Did that hag come back?

 Your hysterical laughing did not help- he knows that laugh. You laughed like that when Orin kidnapped Lae’zel and you proceeded to promptly pass out. It’s your, “I have finally fucking lost it” laugh and it means you probably have the migraine of the century. 

 With Shadowheart’s help, they got both you and Eowyn upstairs and in bed. Eowyn was softly snoring in her crib, looking peaceful for the first time in 72 hours. You, on the other hand, look anything but peaceful. 

 Your face is tear stained, your eyes are puffy, and your skin is ever so slightly paler than it should be. You are shaking and Shadowheart promptly informed him that you have a fever, but she has everything to help you. 

 The two silently work together to grind up the herbs and other medicinal items. Astarion knows she wants to ask what happened and honestly? He has no idea. 

 Okay, well he does, but he didn’t realize how “end of the world” like it would be for you both. Astarion would never-

Oh.

 He stops suddenly and blinks away tears he didn’t realize he had. 

 How had Astarion not thought about that? You used to be able to cope if he blew up and stormed off- worried that Cazador or your other foes would hurt him- but the last time he blew up on you, he vanished. 

 He left without leaving a trace of himself behind and then you didn’t see him for months. Eowyn’s first experience with him is that he threatened you and then abandoned not only you, but her as well. 

 Astarion’s memory of the day’s earlier events makes him put his head in his hands. 

 He remembers how terrified you both looked when he snapped and Eowyn’s whimper echoes through his head.

 Astarion couldn’t figure out why you hadn’t gone into the bedroom and tried to nap- it had been both of your plans before he so horribly ran off. Now he realizes that you were trying to avoid seeing his absence- you really were not expecting him to come back ever again. 

“Astarion?”

 He bursts into tears when Shadowheart says his name with a counting house worth of worry. He doesn’t deserve it- he is a monster. 

“I got so overwhelmed,” he chokes out, “I was so hungry and I wasn’t thinking- I just… I just left. I said mean, terrible things and I scared them both.

“I’m the reason she passed out. She thought I was never coming back.” 

  Astarion hears Shadowheart get up and he really is expecting to be stabbed through or something, but instead, she puts down two wine chalices and opens a bottle. She pours them both extremely large glasses before sitting down to get back to work. 

“I can’t imagine this is easy for you,” she begins slowly, “you went from only having to worry about yourself to yourself and Tav and now Eowyn.

“I have noticed how hungry you are- I brought back some blood from the local butcher on my way home for you. I appreciate your refusal to drink from Tav until she is back to her full strength and I can really see the effort you are putting in. Not only with Eowyn, but in your relationship with Tav too.

“She may not be able to handle you leaving in a storm without experiencing a panic attack for a while,” Shadowheart says glumly, “but I think if you communicate your needs that she will listen and come up with a solution that works for everyone. She isn’t Cazador, Astarion. She loves you and she worries and cares for you as much as you do her. If you needed to go hunting, she probably would have, and I mean this quite literally, kicked you out of the house until you felt better. Your needs are important to her- she isn’t going to deny you or torture you for having them.

“Eowyn, on the other hand,” Shadowheart snorts, “well, I don’t think she cares what any of us want. She knows she’s too cute for that nonsense.” 

 Astarion and Shadowheart continue crushing the herbs in silence and he takes a long drink from the wine. He contemplates everything she said and he hates how transparent he must be for her to see why he was struggling to speak up about how hungry he was. It’s not your fault for not noticin- you were barely making time for your own needs. 

 There is a compromise somewhere. There has to be.

“Thank you.”

  +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  Your bones hurt and you are freezing and hot at the same time. Everything hurts and the smell of Astarion’s cologne makes you want to cry.

 You must be hallucinating because you are certain his voice is in the doorway talking to Shadowheart. 

Oh how I am going to miss you, my Love. You think glumly. Thank you for the time we had together. 

 Your broken heart has manifested into physical illness and you wonder if you are even capable of taking care of Eowyn like this. You can hardly take care of yourself. 

 It also makes you wonder if you should have taken Jaheira’s advice in the first place and put her up for adoption. However, you quickly nix that thought- you couldn’t imagine a life without your sweet little girl and you will be brave for her. You have to be- there is no other choice. 

  A cool hand against your temple causes a sigh of relief to leave your cracked and dried lips. You cried so much and completely neglected to rehydrate.��

 You try to get up and prepare yourself to face Shadowheart and your shame.

 But it isn’t Shadowheart- it’s Astarion with a look of concern on his face and he helps you sit up. 

“Here, my Love,” he says as he supports your shaking hand as you drink the water, “I bought food as well- all of your favorites so when you are feeling up to eating, let me know.” 

 You nod and stare at him. You can’t tell if he is a mirage or if this is really him. Everything looks so hazy. 

“Are you really here?” 

 You wince at how cracked and rough your voice sounds. Your tone is pathetic and melancholy. 

 Sadness consumes Astarion’s face and he wipes away the tears from your cheeks.

“Yes, my love,” he assures you, “I am here and I am not going anywhere.” 

 You nod your head, emotional and tearful. 

 He climbs into bed behind you and pulls you to his chest- leaving a trail of soft kisses up your neck and behind your ear. You hum happily and your chest glows.

 He came back, you think, he came back and he never left. Never even intended on leaving again.

 “What are you thinking about?” He whispers, neither one of you wishing to wake Eowyn.

 You aren’t sure if you should share your thoughts. You don’t want him to think you don’t trust him or make him upset and have him actually leave.

“My love,” he begins, “I am sorry I scared you and Eowyn.”

“You didn-“

“Tav,” he says softly, but firmly, “don’t lie. I know I scared you and I know I scared her. I am not fragile, neither is our love, and I am sorry.”

 You begin to cry again- your whole body is racked with them. Maybe you hadn’t gotten over him leaving yet. You really thought you had worked past it, but it’s like you are experiencing all the pain from when he first left and told you he wanted you to die screaming. It’s like a massive hole has been punched into your chest. 

 You feel him hold you tighter to him and you only cry harder, the pain from the past and the day has taken it’s toll on you. He whispers apologies into your ear and leaves gentle, sweet kisses. 

“I promise- I am never going to leave you like that again,” his own voice cracks with unshed tears, “I will never abandon you again.” 

 You shake your head, trying so hard to not make him feel like he has to stay.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to,” your voice comes out like a hopeless whine, “I don’t want you to feel trap-“

 He interrupts you with a deep, long kiss. You nuzzle your nose against his and the sigh of happiness that leaves his mouth warms your aching heart.

“I want you to throw both of those thoughts away,” he wipes away your tears, “I am exactly where I want to be and that will not change. I love you and I love Eowyn- I love our family and our life together.

“You have given me a gift, a wonderful, beautiful gift,” he smiles at you, “thank you- I won’t forget it nor will she ever let me.” 

  You both lay there in each other’s embrace- Astarion continues to assure you that Eowyn is okay and you finally agree to take a bath together before taking a nap. You both still smell like baby spit up and some intimacy is needed.

 Astarion basically already has the bath drawn by the time you get to the bathroom. He insists on washing your hair and your body before you wash him.

 Astarion rubs your stressed muscles and the tightness in your shoulders away with his touch. You feel like you could fall asleep and know what peace feels like for once.

“Does this feel good, my Love?”

 You hum happily, his fingers now massaging your scalp and making sure every inch is covered in soap and the tight dehydration headache seems to go away as he continues his ministrations. You feel bad that you aren’t helping him, but you wouldn’t even know where to begin and your body is so tired. 

 Astarion begins to trail sweet kisses up your neck- hoping to continue lulling you to sleep and he knows when you are already sleepy that kisses like this help to relax you. You could melt into him- truly. 

“You are still a bit feverish,” he nuzzles his face into your neck, “how do you feel?”

 You hum lazily, “achey, tired, but happy. I am very happy.”

 You feel him smile against your skin and he regales you with his hunt from the day, bragging about the amount of bandits he was capable of taking down on his own. You add dramatic gasps and cheers- he gripes that you aren’t taking him seriously (he has taken to calling you his silly goose lately so who isn’t taking who seriously?), but you also can tell he adores it. 

  At some point, you do eventually wash him. You are slow and a bit lazy, but you focus on cleaning his blood stained hair, making sure there isn’t any left. He is worried about Eowyn seeing and being scared. He said he needs to apologize to her as well and he must look presentable.

 You haven’t noticed him staring up at you, admiring your entire body against his and your face as you concentrate.

“I love you,” he whispers, “I love you so much.”

 You look down at him with surprise and smile brightly.

“I love you so much!” You place a chaste kiss on his lips before returning to your work. “And I am very jealous of how silky your hair is.” 

“You should be- my hair is the best, after all.”

“I know- I am grateful that Eowyn has your hair and not mine.” 

 Astarion seems to chuckle to himself, his restless hands begin tracing shapes and running up and down your body. It doesn’t feel sexual in nature, more like he is committing you to memory. 

 “200 years,” he murmurs.

 “What?”

“I spent 200 years of suffering under Cazador,” he says softly, “I was getting ready to give up. I was really considering walking out into the sun and freeing myself of him forever.

“Then I am bringing someone to him and we are kidnapped by those tentacle-eyed freaks. I thought my life was truly over and I would never truly know what it feels like to be happy. Safe.

“I hate to give any meaning to my suffering because there was not, but I am grateful that after 200 years of pure shit- I get to be here with you. In our home- safe, in love, a father, and so incredibly happy. I can scarcely believe it some days.

“My time with you- now and every second moving forward is and has been the counterweight to it all. You are the counterweight to it all, my Love.”

 You are stunned- a few stray tears falling down your face and your smile feels tooth rotting sweet. It makes you feel good to know that you have brought so much happiness to his life. At one point you thought you had truly destroyed his life after he left you there in Cazador’s Dungeon. 

 You are grateful that he doesn’t regret Ascending. You don’t know what you would do if he did.

“Marry me?” He whispers, his voice shaking and nervous.

 You think you may have heard him incorrectly. Did he just… propose?

“W-what?”

“Marry me, please,” he begs, you think for a moment you see a flash of worry in his eyes like you may reject him, “I will do whatever I need to to show you I am serious about you, about us, and our family if that is what you are concerned about I-

“Yes!” After your brain digests everything he said and you accidentally interrupt him in your excitement, “yes one hundred times over!” 

 You feel sparked to life- all the tiredness in your bones becomes less noticeable and he pulls your face to his, kissing you deeply with no intentions of stopping any time soon. 

 Your hands explore each other as if you are both touching each other for the first time. It’s slow and wonderful- you have been with each other in this sense before, slow and soft sex, but this feels entirely different. 

 His thumb teasingly rolls your clit while he slides a finger inside of you- a wanton moan escapes your lips and your eyelashes flutter as he prepares you to take him. His other hand is gripping your hair to keep your lips on his- the punishing pace he keeps as he scissors his fingers inside you and stimulates your g-spot. His thumb never stops it’s relentlessly teasing and you almost feel embarrassed by how eagerly you pant against his mouth with pleasure. 

 “You are being so wonderful for me, my Sweet,” he nips your lower lip, “I want to be inside you- do you feel ready for that?”

 You nod eagerly- you have been healthy and cleared for sex for a couple weeks now, but he had been far, far too afraid which you respect immensely. You have been dreaming about connecting with him on this level again though- it’s intimate and important. 

 Love and loyalty- a bond that cannot be broken and your bodies fit together like a puzzle piece. 

 Astarion slowly thrusts up into you and you meet his hips half way down. You moan and whine against each other’s lips. He pinches your sensitive nipples and he smiles into your mouth when you gasp- breaking the intense make out session between you. You can feel your breast milk drip down his fingers and he makes you watch him lick his fingers clean. 

 He peers up at you as if asking permission to drink and your lashes flutter as you consider what he is asking.

 You nod shyly and his smile is wide, his eyes almost hungry.

  The cold, wet feeling of his tongue against your sensitive nipple and a single, hard thrust into you makes a cry of pleasure fall from your lip. Astarion begins to drink from your breast- tongue, teeth, and lips-  and you clutch the back of the bathtub as he indulges. 

 Strings of curse words and praise leave your mouth as he continues- eventually moving onto the other and you watch in awe as his looks up at you. Astarion’s pupils are blown with lust and desire- his eyes are drunk and exhilarated from your blood and breast milk. 

 His hands settle on your hips and begins pulling your thrusts to meet his harder. You feel dizzy and lightheaded- blood and breastmilk drips from you and into the water below. Astarion releases your nipple and your head falls into the crook of his neck. You muffle your moans by singing them into his shoulder. One of your hands finds purchase in his hair and the other explores his torso and neck. 

“Gods you are perfect,” he growls against your lips, “in every single way- you are perfect.” 

 He ruts into your sex relentlessly and the gentle kisses between you become sloppy and needy. You feel your orgasm wash over your body in a wave of pleasure and you giggle happily when he fills you with his seed. 

 The sloppy kisses are still lazy and needy, but in a far gentler way. Both of your hands are entangled in the other’s hair and never ever want this to end. 

 Unfortunately,  crying from Eowyn interrupts your moment alone before you can even think about further aftercare protocol. 

 Astarion groans, putting his head back and pouting.

You laugh, readying yourself to get out of the tub, “our child would be a total cock block.”

 “Yes, well,” he says, pulling you back into the water, “she will not be a ‘relaxation’ block either, my Dear,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips, “you continue to enjoy yourself and I will take care of Eowyn.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel alone.”

“How could I?” He says with a large smile, “my fiancé is just in the other room and our daughter is very good company.” 

 Fiancé.

 You are smiling ear to ear, even before Astarion gets out of the bath and gets dressed. You can’t help but admire how beautiful he is as he gets out and he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Like what you see, my Darling?” 

“Oh, I certainly do,” You hum in approval, “and I just love you for who you are in general.”

 He is leaning over and pressing a kiss to your forehead after he slides on his shirt and his pants.

“It’s truly, disgustingly, wonderful how kind you are to me,” he says before pulling away, “it makes me want to be kind back.”

 “Oh you are very kind, my Love,” Eowyn throws some kind of toy against her crib in frustration and you giggle, “it sounds like you are being summoned.”

 You sink back into your bath and listen as Astarion’s muffled voice earns a squeal of happiness from Eowyn. You can hear him singing some song he made up on the spot- all filled with compliments for her- and your smile only grows wider.

  Eowyn is going to have the healthiest self-esteem anyone has ever seen in their lives. Astarion would probably destroy the entire world if someone so much as looked at Eowyn wrong. 

 It warms your heart to know that, in spite of all the sadness those five months apart brought you, that it all ended up working out for the best.

*****************************************************************

“I am sorry I scared you, my adorable little menace,” he says softly, Eowyn’s crying had stopped abruptly upon seeing him and she started to shake before spitting up on herself. 

 It broke Astarion to see how afraid she was- she was even too scared to cry and be upset about the spit up dribbling down her face. He picks her up, aware of how tense she is before wiping her face gently. Eowyn’s golden eyes follow his every movement and she slowly relaxes as she realizes he isn’t upset anymore.

“I will never ever abandon you, my sweet little girl,” he promises, “I am so sorry- I love you so much and I am sorry I scared you. I hope you can forgive me.”

 Eowyn probably doesn’t know what he is saying word for word, but she seems to understand enough and she gives him a gummy, drooly grin with a happy, high pitched cry. It’s probably one of Astarion’s favorite sounds and he loves her smile- adores it even. 

“Eowynnnn with her beautifulll eyes and her wonderfulll smileeee,” he sings lazily, “you are the greatest thingggg in this worlddddddd and so issss your motherrrrrr.” 

 He keeps singing his weird song- he doesn’t know when he became an idle singer, but Eowyn enjoys it very much and in turn, he has come to enjoy it. 

 Astarion grabs a fresh pair of clothes for Eowyn and goes to the kitchen. He fills the sink with water and sets up the weird contraption that Shadowheart gave them to put in the sink. It’s supposed to keep her from being submerged under the water, but Astarion is still skeptical. 

 He continues to rock her until the water is ready and it seems like he submerged the lower half of the tub seat just enough for her. Eowyn goes into it happily- not even blinking when she is in the water. You have bathed her a few times already and Eowyn really likes her baths. Today, it seems to also help with soothing her tummy. 

  Astarion washes every single one of her curls with care and precision- gently untangling any knots and providing lots of praise when one is particularly difficult to untangle and he has to be a bit more aggressive than he would like. She is a champion through the whole thing, lazily looking up at him as she sucks on her binkie. 

 Shadowheart had given him a mint elixir to help soothe her upset tummy and it seems to have worked very well- there is no more odd stomach grumbling from her and she seems relaxed. He will definitely be keeping this on hand for the future. 

 She is basically asleep again when he begins to rub grape seed oil into her skin so that it stays moisturized and puts her in, what he argues are, her favorite pair of pajamas (his reasoning is definitely NOT because he bought them…).

 Astarion thinks about bringing her upstairs and putting her to sleep in the crib before taking a nap himself, but he isn’t ready to part with her. He hurt her feelings and he wants to rectify this- for his own sad feelings and hers.

  You are already asleep in your shared bed when he gets upstairs and Astarion gently lays down on his back, putting Eowyn on his chest and she falls asleep with her ear pressed where his heartbeat should be. You naturally curl up next to him too and Astarion has never felt more full of happiness in his entire life. 

 At one point, laying still and not being able to move would have been torture. Now? Astarion lets his mind wander into bliss as he listens to both of your heartbeats and soft snores.

[wellthebardsdead]

Isobel: that- Glaive… I… I remember it- I remember… *looks from the sorrow glaive to Halsin, remembering a crown of madness overtaking her mind and her charging to attack the druid, leading him no choice but to wield his weapon up in self defence* how I died…

Tav: I… are you saying- Halsin killed you?

Halsin: I did… and for it ketheric unleashed the shadow curse as per Shars wish… it is a guilt I have harboured for a century…

Isobel: it- wasn’t his fault. I attacked him first but- I can’t remember why- one moment we were on each others side against my fathers army and then… it was like my mind wasn’t my own. *smiles up at him* there are no hard feelings on my end.

Halsin: but there is a heavy grief left in my heart… my actions lead to ketheric unleashing that unspeakable curse. And with it thaniel was torn from Oliver, countless lives taken… and all from blood spilled by my hand.

Isobel: … *reaches up and hugs him tight* you aren’t responsible for my fathers madness.

Halsin: … *sighs and hugs her back* and get forgiveness does little to ease the ache in my heart… but I thank you for it, Isobel.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Study!Series Part Seven: Cutting - Dean Archer x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @helsinkibaby @hufflepuffgirl @mimi-8793

The Study:

Part One: Courting Disaster - Dean realises Jack is courting you.

Part Two: Distance - Dean tries to discuss the distance between the two of you.

Part Three: Deserving - Jack tries to show you, you deserve better.

Part Four: Navy Shirt - You and Dean don’t have secrets.

Part Five: A Punch in the Face - Dean responds badly to the news of Jack's kiss.

Part Six: Blow After Blow - Dean doesn't know how much more you can take.

Dean doesn’t expect Jack Dayton to turn up at his apartment. He’s sitting on the couch, scrolling through his contacts when he hears a knock at the door. He’s spent the past few hours on the phone, trying to get one of the other hospitals take on the study and all he gets is the same answer.

You have to take it higher.

The problem is Dean doesn’t know anyone higher. All of his friends are like him, they’re the kinda of guys that like being in the trenches, they don’t exist in boardrooms, they don’t play the politics.

When he opens the door and sees Jack standing there it feels like the perfect end to a perfect day. You’re working a double at the hospital because you’re not ready to come home and deal with the ramifications of the study being cancelled. The only way you can cope right now is to bury yourself in your work.

“For Christ’s sake.” Dean erupts as he starts to slam the door in Jack’s face, but the other man reaches out, holding it open with his palm.

“Just give me five minutes.” Jack requests and there’s something in his voice that makes Dean pause.

“I can’t imagine what the two of us have left to say to each other.” He relents. “But by all means come inside.”

It’s strange for Jack, seeing the life you and Dean have built together. The picture frames on the book case tell the story of a happy marriage, one based on smiles and laugher. You bring out a lighter side to the Head of the E.D, one that Jack’s never seen before. There are touches of you throughout the apartment, pops of colour that brighten the living room, the fresh flowers on the kitchen table, lush house plants that radiate life.

Your office is the same, he remembers thinking how odd it was that the Medical Examiner’s office seemed more soothing in its dark basement than the rest of the damn hospital.

“The lip’s healing nicely.” Dean remarks and Jack can’t help but rise his fingers to touch it.

“Look.” Jack says as he tucks his hands back into his pockets of his overcoat. “I’m not here to rehash what happened with me and Isobel.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, Jack sees it the instant the words leave his mouth. Something ignites in Dean’s eyes as he fixes Jack with a furious stare, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Nothing did happen between you and Isobel.” Dean says forcefully. “You kissed her and I punched you in the face. That’s the summary of it.”

“Again that’s not why I’m here.” Jack reiterates and Dean snorts his response.

“I know why you’re here.” Dean says resolutely. “You were hoping Isobel was home, that she was alone, vulnerable…”

“Is that what you think of me? That I’m some sort of monster that preys on unsuspecting women?” Jack snaps back at the other man. “That is not what it was, I had feelings for Isobel, genuine ones and I thought…”

Dean knows exactly what he thought. He knows what it’s like to be loved by you, how it feels like the stepping into the sun. You have no idea how you touch the lives of the people around you, how kind you are, how compassionate. To you it’s just natural but to men like him and Jack, it’s everything.

“She loves you.” Jack says, his gaze meeting Dean’s. “She will always love you.”

“Is that why you took her off the study?” Dean asks him as he leans back against the counter. “Is that why you killed it?”

“I didn’t kill the study, the investors did. I tried to advocate for it but they’re more interested in prolonging the lives of those that can fund the hospital than they are in what happens after.” Jack tells him as he looks away, his gaze lands on a picture of you when you were younger, you’re standing alongside your brother on his highschool graduation day, your father on the opposite side. “I know how much it means to her, I made some calls, got the study over moved to Northwestern, Anita’s going to handle the change over.”

“Congratulations.” Dean says bitterly. “You get to ride in with your money and connections and be the white knight.”

“Dean…” Jack says quietly. “That’s not what this is about and you know it. That programme stopped Isobel from hurting herself back then, it’ll help others too.”

It feels like a gut punch because those things, the ones that Jack’s alluding to they’re private, something shared between just the two of you.

“She told you about that?” He says, his voice a little rough.

Jack draws up the sleeve of his coat before he undoes the cuff of his shirt and pulls up the fabric.

Dean takes it in, the white scars that line his forearm, they crisscross over each other transecting his flesh. Some of them are faded, older but others they’re much newer, probably the past few months.

The cutting was something you used to do to manage your grief. Always on the inner thighs, somewhere no one else could see it. It’s the reason you hadn’t taken a lover in such a long time before Dean, you were ashamed of agony you wore on your skin, deeply so.

“I’m more patchwork than man these days.” Jack tells him as he rolls down his sleeve. “Isobel, she saw these, she knew what they were…”

He trails off then because he remembers the tenderness in your touch as you cleaned his wounds, how careful you were, how empathetic.

“I’ve been there,” You’d told him as you’d withdrawn another antiseptic wipe from his cutting kit. You’d had one too once upon a time, tucked neatly away inside your make up bag. “I can’t imagine the immense pressure you must be under every day.”

“It feels like I can’t breathe sometimes.” He had whispered as you applied the wound closure strips. “Cuttings the only way to vent the pressure, it’s the only way I feel in control.”

“How bad is it?” You ask and he begins to unbutton his shirt. You don’t look away when the material slips from his body, he thinks you’re the first woman who hasn’t. His shoulders, his chest, his stomach, all of it is portrait of slender white scars. He favours a razor, you acknowledge, he has several in his cutting kit.

“Let me help you.” You request, your hand clasping his. “I know someone, someone who you can talk to, someone who helps me when things get a little too much.”

He’d started seeing Elle Abrams after that, finding healthier ways to deal with the stress.

“Isobel didn’t see it as a weakness, she understood what it was, a way of coping…” He swallows hard against the well of emotion in his chest. “She saw the real me and I think that’s why…”

He doesn’t say the next part but Dean knows.

That’s why Jack fell in love with you.

“Will you tell her about the study?” Jack requests and Dean suddenly understands the reason other man ended up on his doorstep tonight. It hurts Jack too much knowing that the woman he loves, doesn’t love him. He can’t face her again after that rejection.

“Yea.” Dean says finally, his palm rubbing over the back of  his neck. “Yea I will.”

When Jack leaves your apartment he has one more stop to make before he heads home for the night. He asks his driver to detour by Oaktree Rehab Centre, where Sean Archer works.

He’s overheard the discussions about Dean’s son, their fraught past relationship, how they’ve started to mend fences. It one of the reasons Dean won’t tell his son just how sick he is, he doesn’t want the kid to bear the burden of that responsibility.

He knows how much you love Dean, that losing the other man will destroy you. He can’t stand the idea of you going through that again, of trying to survive that grief so Jack, he’s going to do the thing you can’t. He’s going to save Dean Archer so that you get the happy ending you deserve.

 When he meets Sean he can see the elements of Dean in his features, they’re subtle but it's in the eyes and face shape. The  body language though, it’s different. Dean is always reserved but Sean he’s open, genial. Jack supposes he has to be when it comes to the people he’s dealing with.

“How can I help you?” Sean asks as he comes to stand alongside the reception desk.

“It’s about your dad.” Jack tells the younger man. “I'm afraid he's not doing too great.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

More voice line posting! Because I like digging them up and I always want to see/hear more of Isobel.

At some point you were able to have Isobel join your camp by herself even after letting Shadowheart kill Aylin - a game state that's no longer possible, as Aylin's death means Last Light falls, too. But all the voice lines and dialogue trees are still there. I haven't had a chance to try, but manually messing around with the "SHA_Nightsong_State_PermaDefeated" flag might be able to get these lines to trigger.

Here are some highlights (and transcripts) from the Moonrise reunion and the camp conversation that we now only see the "take care of my angel" branch of.

Isobel: You did it. I knew you would. Player: Yet you don't seem glad. Isobel: Oh, I am. It's a momentous day. I suppose I need to catch my breath or the momentum will outpace me.

Player: What will you do now that your father's gone? Isobel: Oh, I don't know. Change my hair colour. Buy a horse. [Curse was lifted] Isobel: In seriousness, I intend to help you fight the Absolute - what lies behind the Absolute, that is. Isobel: None of us will be safe until that looming horror is defeated. When the time comes, I'll fight at your side.

[Curse wasn't lifted] Isobel: In seriousness, my home needs me. It's still enveloped in Shar's horrific curse. If it can be cleansed, I'll find a way. Isobel: But I admit that plays second fiddle to helping you. None of us will be safe until the horror behind 'the Absolute' is defeated. When the time comes, I'll fight at your side.

Player: Why wait? Isobel: To be perfectly frank, I'm exhausted. It feels a bit as though I've been dropped into another dimension. Isobel: A little time to rest and reflect, and I'll be ready to go at it anew. What say you? Player: It's not over yet. A nautiloid is on its way to Baldur's Gate. Isobel: Gods. One day, you go to sleep and everything's square. Then you wake up, and it's a dodecahedron. With tentacles.

-

You could also talk about Aylin specifically. If you were feeling particularly horrible, you could lie and convince Isobel she could still find and save her beloved. Presumably, however you played this, she would leave your camp either hating you or trying to save Aylin - which is a bit similar to how the Act 3 Lorroakan betrayal pans out.

Player: Aylin - do you mean Nightsong? Isobel: Nightsong? What do you mean?

Player: Ketheric captured her and was using her to fuel his invulnerability. She was called the 'Nightsong'. Isobel: She... what?! Does this mean she's still alive? I've got to find her - set her free! Tell me everything you know. Please.

Player: It's too late for that. She was dead when I found her. [Roll Deception] [Roll succeeded] Isobel: My father said she was gone. I'd tried to make peace with it. But... she was so special. So very dear. Isobel: When we met, it was like a lightning strike. My father wasn't sure about us - she was immortal, after all - but I never doubted. [Roll failed] Isobel: Liar. Wicked, wicked liar. Murderer.

Player: Give me your map. I'll show you where she's being kept. [Roll Performance] [Roll failed] Isobel: You're lying. She can't be saved, can she? My father told me she was... gone. It's true, isn't it? Isobel: Why would you lie? What's the matter with you? [Roll succeeded] Isobel: Thank you - thank you so much. I'll gather some supplies and head out shortly. Aylin... I can't believe she's alive. Before the day's end, I'll have her in my arms. Incredible.

Isobel: I hope Aylin's alright. I can't wait to have her in my arms again.

Player: Never mind. Isobel: As I was saying, I fell in love with Aylin swiftly. It was as easy as breathing.

Player: That's what Ketheric and his chums called her. Killed her myself. / It's too late for that. I killed her. Isobel: You what?! But she was immortal. How could she... how could you...? She is the Moonmaiden's daughter. And you call yourself a Selûnite?!

Player: It was the only way to make Ketheric vulnerable. Isobel: Was it? Was it truly? I don't believe that. Not for a second.

Player: Shar got the better of me. It won't happen again. Isobel: Oh it won't? Then I suppose we'll just forget this little misstep, file it under 'lessons learned'?

Player: It was a mistake. One I bitterly regret. Isobel: I should hope so. I can't imagine what insane course of thought led you to murder someone so dear. Isobel: Get out of my sight before I do something you'll regret.

Player: When the Lady of Loss speaks, her faithful act on her behalf. Isobel: You're disgusting. You've killed someone so precious, so good. I knew Shar was wicked. But I'd hoped for better from you.

Player: I couldn't hold my companion back. She had a mission to fulfil. Isobel: A mission? A mission?! That Sharran murderer destroyed someone so precious, so good...

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 3 EPISODE 04 || OF LOST THINGS ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

“Have you really got to go, Mac?” he asked, in a very small voice. “Aye, I have.”

He looked into the dark blue eyes, so heartbreakingly like his own, and suddenly didn’t give a damn what was right or who saw. He pulled the boy roughly to him, hugging him tight against his heart, holding the boy’s face close to his shoulder, that Willie might not see the quick tears that fell into his thick, soft hair. Willie’s arms went around his neck and clung tight. He could feel the small, sturdy body shake against him with the force of suppressed sobbing.

He patted the flat little back, and smoothed Willie’s hair, and murmured things in Gaelic that he hoped the boy would not understand. At length, he took the boy’s arms from his neck and put him gently away. “Come wi’ me to my room, Willie; I shall give ye something to keep.”

He had long since moved from the hayloft, taking over Hughes’s snuggery beside the tack room when the elderly head groom retired. It was a small room, and very plainly furnished, but it had the twin virtues of warmth and privacy. Besides the bed, the stool, and a chamber pot, there was a small table, on which stood the few books that he owned, a large candle in a pottery candlestick, and a smaller candle, thick and squat, that stood to one side before a small statue of the Virgin. It was a cheap wooden carving that Jenny had sent him, but it had been made in France, and was not without artistry.

“What’s that little candle for?” Willie asked. “Grannie says only stinking Papists burn candles in front of heathen images.” “Well, I am a stinking Papist,” Jamie said, with a wry twist of his mouth. “It’s no a heathen image, though; it’s a statue of the Blessed Mother.” “You are?” Clearly this revelation only added to the boy’s fascination. “Why do Papists burn candles before statues, then?”

Jamie rubbed a hand through his hair. “Aye, well. It’s…maybe a way of praying—and remembering. Ye light the candle, and say a prayer and think of people ye care for. And while it burns, the flame remembers them for ye.” “Who do you remember?” Willie glanced up at him. His hair was standing on end, rumpled by his earlier distress, but his blue eyes were clear with interest. “Oh, a good many people. My family in the Highlands—my sister and her family. Friends. My wife.” And sometimes the candle burned in memory of a young and reckless girl named Geneva, but he did not say that. Willie frowned. “You haven’t got a wife.” “No. Not anymore. But I remember her always.” Willie put out a stubby forefinger and cautiously touched the little statue. The woman’s hands were spread in welcome, a tender maternity engraved on the lovely face. “I want to be a stinking Papist, too,” Willie said firmly. “Ye canna do that!” Jamie exclaimed, half-amused, half-touched at the notion. “Your grandmama and your auntie would go mad.” “Would they froth at the mouth, like that mad fox you killed?” Willie brightened. “I shouldna wonder,” Jamie said dryly. “I want to do it!” The small, clear features were set in determination. “I won’t tell Grannie or Auntie Isobel; I won’t tell anybody. Please, Mac! Please let me! I want to be like you!” Jamie hesitated, both touched by the boy’s earnestness, and suddenly wanting to leave his son with something more than the carved wooden horse he had made to leave as a farewell present. He tried to remember what Father McMurtry had taught them in the schoolroom about baptism. It was all right for a lay person to do it, he thought, provided that the situation was an emergency, and no priest was to hand. It might be stretching a point to call the present situation an emergency, but…a sudden impulse made him reach down the jug of water that he kept on the sill. The eyes that were like his watched, wide and solemn, as he carefully brushed the soft brown hair back from the high brow. He dipped three fingers into the water and carefully traced a cross on the lad’s forehead. “I baptize thee William James,” he said softly, “in the name o’ the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.” Willie blinked, crossing his eyes as a drop of water rolled down his nose. He stuck out his tongue to catch it, and Jamie laughed, despite himself. “Why did you call me William James?” Willie asked curiously. “My other names are Clarence Henry George.” He made a face; Clarence wasn’t his idea of a good name.

Jamie hid a smile. “Ye get a new name when you’re baptized; James is your special Papist name. It’s mine, too.” “It is?” Willie was delighted. “I’m a stinking Papist now, like you?” “Aye, as much as I can manage, at least.” He smiled down at Willie, then, struck by another impulse, reached into the neck of his shirt. “Here. Keep this, too, to remember me by.” He laid the beechwood rosary gently over Willie’s head. “Ye canna let anyone see that, though,” he warned. “And for God’s sake, dinna tell anyone you’re a Papist.” “I won’t,” Willie promised. “Not a soul.” He tucked the rosary into his shirt, patting carefully to be sure that it was hidden. “Good.” Jamie reached out and ruffled Willie’s hair in dismissal. “It’s almost time for your tea; ye’d best go on up to the house now.” Willie started for the door, but stopped halfway, suddenly distressed again, with a hand pressed flat to his chest. “You said to keep this to remember you. But I haven’t got anything for you to remember me by!” Jamie smiled slightly. His heart was squeezed so tight, he thought he could not draw breath to speak, but he forced the words out.

“Dinna fret yourself,” he said. “I’ll remember ye”

16 WILLIE ~ voyager

[firstknightvulion]

Funny little what if. So, on one side Dame Aylin and Isobel, a tall, angry Aasimar Paladin and her Selunite Wife. On the other side, my Tav, a tall, angry Tiefling Paladin and his (newly-again) Selunite Wife.

They get around the discussing their wives…

Wyll: What is going on?!

Tav flys past will, crashing into a wall back first. A half second later Aylin smashes into Tav, sending both him and her through the wall. Blow after blow is heard inside the shadows of the hole in the wall before Aylin comes flying out and lands in the dirt.

Tav steps out, bloodied but with a fire in his glowing eyes. Spitting blood on the floor, he charges Aylin who rises to meet the attack.

Astarion: *sitting on makeshift bleachers with a “Go Tav!” Ball cap on* They are having a most riveting debate.

Wyll: They’re trying to kill each other. *watches as Aylin drop kicks Tav in the stomach only for the Tiefling to grab both her legs and spin her around several times before sending her flying quite a distance*

Karlach: *standing next to Astarion, cheering with two foam hands marked with “Tav #1” on them* GO TAV!!!

Wyll: What are they even debating?!

Gale: *wearing a “I Hope Everyone Has Fun” shirt* I do believe it was whoever has the best wife.

Wyll looks further down the bleachers and cringes as he sees an Isobel and Shadowheart sitting in a blackened aura of what could only be embarrassment.

Lae’zel: You! Go for the wings! You! Go for the tail! GRIND THEM UNDER YOUR HEEL!!!

Wyll: Who is she cheering for?

Astarion: Ahhhh, death.

Wyll: Of course. And why is she here?! *points at Orin*

Orin waves and smiles.

Astarion: She sensed a good time and came over.

Wyll: WHY DID YOU LET HER?!

Astarion: She brought drinks, darling.

Wyll: …*watching Tav put Aylin in a full armbar only to then get bit in the leg* How long have they been at this?

Gale: Three hours, I think?

Wyll: *gives up and takes a seat next to Astarion* Three gold on Tav.

The Battle of The Two Angry Paladins with Outsider Ancestry Debating who had the best Magic Moon Wife ended in the most anime bullshit way possible. By the mutual final punch double KO. It was said the battle ravaged their bodies. The Magic Moon wives did nothing to ease their pain and in fact left them in the dirt for the next day.

Scratch thought they were hanging so he just laid down next to them.

A bit long but thank you for indulging me. Just realized the parallels between my main Tav and Dame Aylin. So this little what if happened.

[dmbakura]

I've been doing the evil run in bg3 and I can say it's very much not worth it from a story perspective 💀 but I feel like it does a very good job of making your actions have consequences. The new combat encounters it provides can be pretty interesting, though I also fucked myself over for one of the boss fights lmao. So my run so far has been:

-I did NOT side with the goblins, so I was able to recruit Karlach, Wyll and Halsin. I honestly regret this because it makes 0 sense for them to stick around for the other evil shit I've done and every dialogue with them is especially scathing. They are MISERABLE in my camp

-followed Kar'niss to moonrise and didn't kill him for the moon lantern. This turned out to massively bite me in the ass because it turns out if you don't kill him earlier, he WILL appear in Ketheric's boss fight at the top of the tower and I wasn't equipped to deal with that so I temporarily lowered the difficulty from tactician to balanced to get through that fight 💀

-killed Isobel and lost the last light inn (after doing associated quests in it, karlach's engine and thaniel) which was bad enough on its own, I then LIED TO JAHEIRA that I didn't do it, which again felt more awful than if I had just killed her outright. Now I can recruit her for act 3 and she'll be non the wiser that I got all her harpers killed for new jim jams (the only upside to this is the slayer form is pretty awesome, pictured below)

-in addition to the above point, literally everyone else in the party thinks you're a dumbfuck for killing Isobel. Even Minthara. Everyone Disliked That

-had Shadowheart kill Aylin and become a Dark Justiciar. Literally why would you do this. I mean it did give her some pretty sick buffs but I fucking felt the loss of Aylin in the later boss fights, and the cutscene you get in the shadowfell is vastly inferior to the freeing Aylin cinematic. Overall do not recommend this

I just reached act 3 but rest assured my bad decisions will not stop here. You already know who I'm ascending 🤪 anyways my advice for an evil run is to just go full murder hobo and sacrifice some of those companions/their extra story content. The psychic damage is not worth keeping them around.