#Wyll my love they don't deserve or appreciate you

[sorcerous-caress]

For the love of god someone put the pale elf on a shelf I'm getting tired of seeing him everywhere, time to revoke him from the fandom until everyone behaves themselves.

[magerightsmagefights]

I know people tend to forget Wyll a lot in this fandom (I wonder why. What Could Possibly Be Different. Can you spot the difference?/s) but I'm genuinely surprised at the lack of Durge x Wyll content. Especially if you're going Redeemed, there's that inherent flavor of "My lover cannot know the truth, I am horrible and they would hate me, they would be correct to hate me." And with Wyll it's just... so juicy, he's so pure and shining, and Durge is so filled with filth and misery that there's barely a person left underneath.

Idk, as a femme romance reader I've spent so many years reading the "love redeems" arc where a FMC plays beauty to an MMC beast, in every genre, medium, budget, etc. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but beauty and the beast as a story structure has never done it for me.

until it's reversed, apparently, because Wyll as the beauty to Durge's beast needs to be injected directly into my veins like yesterday. All the other companions are good and sweet, don't get me wrong, but their reactions are coded like 'i accept you,' where Wyll to me comes off much more as 'we will heal you.' He doesn't have any funny little quips about you trying to bite him, no innuendos, no "I Will Put You Down" a la Laezel, he's just... so good, and he believes in your inherent goodness, he so easily sees "you" and "your urges" as wholly seperate entities he would step between if he could.

Speaking of which!! The coronation scene, when everyone finds out you're Bhaalspawn? I never see anyone talking about Wyll's reaction compared to other companions getting angry (even Dark Shadowheart will yell at you) because Wyll seems to be the ONLY PERSON who immediately separates you(the person he knows) from you(the person you used to be). Astarion isn't angry, he even appreciates your scheme freeing him from Cazador, but he also kinda falls into the whole "I will talk to you as if you are the exact same person who did these things, this is Your True Nature and I feel positive about it."

Wyll's reaction feels like the only one saying "You WERE that," instead of "You ARE that." It also feels like the only one that kinda-sorta acknowledges Durge's actual amnesia, because he doesn't treat this revelation like a betrayal the way the other "good" companions do. They be saying "The real evil was hiding within our ranks all along" like wym hiding? Durge didn't know either, how tf they supposed to tell you?

Wyll doesn't even blink. Once he knows what you are, his No.1 priority is reassuring YOU about it. The fact you're Bhaalspawn isn't a betrayal; it's a Horrible Burden and he's sorry you have to bear it, but there have been others like you who were good, who overcame, and your blood isn't who you are. His first instinct is to offer hope, to reassure you that there's a way out, he believes so hard that your urges are a defeatable enemy and he's ready to fight them with you.

(I also fall into the Durge And Gortash Fucked camp, and I cannot overstate the tastiness of Durge waltzing into the coronation of their ex, the Worst Man Alive, while bringing along their new boyfriend, the Best Man Alive)

Idk, I've just never engaged in a romance where I played the part of the Beast. As much as people rag on pure, princely archetypes, I don't actually see them that often. I genuinely don't remember the last time I read/saw a male lead behave like Wyll, but I've seen plenty of Astarions, Fenrises, Rhysands, etc. Romance loves a fixable MMC, but so rarely an MMC who wants to do the fixing.

Anyway. Justice for Wyll or whatever. I can only cross my fingers that future DLC will include more romance content, because we all deserve to have a Beauty for our Beast sometimes.

[dorindameddler]

Origin-unique answers to Orin impersonating the Rivington smith

all of the origins have unique answers to the questions for finding your perfect weapon, so i thought i'd compile them all!

Question: Tell me, how do you like to kill?

Wyll: With a lot of heat and a little panache.

Karlach: Fast, heavy, and hard.

Astarion: I like to mix it up. Sometimes it's a subtle thing, sometimes it's a bloodbath.

Shadowheart: If I have to kill, I'd rather it be quick and discreet. Mess is for amateurs and maniacs.

Lae'zel: With maximum carnage. Killing is a duty. But spilling blood is a thrill. (the contrast with shadowheart's answer ahaha)

Gale: I call on the Weave to subdue my enemies. It's effective, though hardly its loftiest application.

Dark Urge: (Option 1) I like to make them bleed. To sever arteries, tear flesh, to make them scream. (Option 2) It flows through me as raw inspiration, I never know what my next kill will look like.

Question: And when you kill someone, what do you feel?

Wyll: Bold. Brave, even - if the kill is just.

Karlach: I feel right. I don't kill anyone who doesn't deserve it.

Astarion: I feel alive.

Shadowheart: Alive. Nothing like taking a life to make you appreciate your own delicate existence.

Lae'zel: Sated, as if my parched throat has been fully quenched.

Gale: Powerful, but responsible. To take a life is a grave matter, whether with good or ill intent.

Dark Urge: (Option 1) I feel the most intense pleasure. Arousal, even. (Option 2) Exhilarated beyond compare. It is my purpose. (Option 3) I feel nothing. It's like I'm not even present.

Question: Do you think you could turn your weapon on those closest to you?

Wyll: To pierce a heart I hold dear? I can hardly bear the thought. (i have to point out that this does not technically answer the question lmao not being able to bear the thought and not being able to do it are two different things. king of answering evasively)

Karlach: My friends? Absolutely not. Not ever.

Astarion: Bold of you to assume anyone is that close to me. (another evasive answer lol)

Shadowheart: A... necessary evil, perhaps, if circumstances are dire enough.

Lae'zel: My targets earn their deaths. If I slay you, you were no ally of mine.

Gale: Hardly a course of action to relish. But were the straits dire enough... perhaps.

Dark Urge: (Option 1 - Dark Urge given slayer form) Could I? I already have. (Option 2 - Dark Urge not given slayer form) I do all I can to keep my loved ones safe from my blade.

[lanaevyssmoved]

That is a good point, never thought of that before. Wyll is one of my favs and its true, a lot of the content with him is of him and another character, mostly Astarion.

there is nothing inherently wrong with the ship, but it is an issue when people only ever talk about wyll in context of him being shipped with astarion. and not just astarion, but astarion is the only character i really see him shipped with on the regular and in this way - i know of quite a few wyll x gale enjoyers but those people also appreciate wyll on his own from what i've seen (and obviously i haven't seen everything). but there seems to be an issue where people who dedicate so much of their time on here to astarion never seem to care about the characters they ship him with, only how astarion functions in the ship (usually reduced to Hot Vampire tropes and sex). while i don't care if people do this (i might not like it but i can simply remove it from my dashboard with filters), the issue comes into play with wyll.

wyll is the only black main character, has several hours less of content than the others, less romance content than the others, and his quest is also notoriously lacking and buggy. he deserves people to give him the love and attention larian clearly didn't, and i don't care for bootlickers so no one say shit defending larian please or i'll block you, and that certainly doesn't come in the form of pairing him with astarion just so he can be an attractive prop for astarion to suck the neck of without any, or very little, care to his own character and complexities. wyll deserves to be more than just the prince charming that saves/fixes astarion. he deserves way more than that. and theo deserves way more than his character being reduced to that.

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

Comfort Part 2: Gale of Waterdeep

A continuation of "I don't feel well so I want fluff and hurt/comfort". If you haven't read the first part with Wyll, you don't have to, but I highly recommend some more wholesomeness for you.

Enjoy!

(if you like it, reblogs are appreciated!)

---

It's been a long day.

One of those days where nothing could go right, as if the universe itself were fighting against you.

Exhausted and upset, you open the front door, golden light spilling out around you.

Tara is the first to greet you.

She chirps her welcome, jumping down gracefully from her perch and winding around your legs. For all she is a Tressym, she is still a feline, after all, intent on giving you enough love to trip you over.

It's a soft balm to your soul.

Hanging up your things, you can't help but smile as you hear the clattering of pans. For all that Gale is a prodigy of magic and an accomplished wizard, cooking is one of the few things he doesn't without too much accompaniment.

One of his simulacrums greets you as you step into the foyer.

“Greetings, love. If you're hearing this message, I'm in the process of making us both a delectable feast. There is a surprise upstairs for you to put on before dinner.”

You can't help but wince.

It was date night, wasn't it.

Your feet throb in your shoes, and getting dressed up sounds like the worst thing you could possibly imagine. Your entire way home your body had ached, and all you'd dreamed of was a comfortable night in.

You sigh. “Tara, could you ask Gale if we could do something a little more…cozy? It's been a long day.”

She mrts in response, ignoring the simulacrum entirely as she slips into the kitchen.

You head upstairs to wash up.

Hanging on your closet door is a beautiful outfit, graceful and made to fit only you. You'd grown used to little gifts like this, as Gale loved to spoil you rotten.

Your fingers grace the fabric, and you sigh.

Another night, perhaps.

Instead, you change into something comfortable and loose, and head back downstairs.

No wooden landing greets your tired feet, however.

Looking around, your eyes widen. Stars form a rich blanket across the night sky, the smell of loamy earth and moss filling the air. In the distance, there are trees, and you are brought back to a different time.

This time, instead of a despondent and solemn Gale, your husband smiles up at you lovingly from a picnic blanket.

“Tara told me you might be in need of some comfort.” He pats the spot next to him, stealing a kiss after you sit down.

“Gale, this is…”

“Only a fraction of what you deserve? I agree. Which is why I also brought some books we've been meaning to read together, and whipped up a little something extra for dessert. I hope you like strawberries. If not, I can turn them into something else.”

You laugh fondly, shaking your head. “It's perfect, Gale. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my love.” As he serves you both dinner, Tara curls up between you two, her soft warmth comforting against your thigh.

You couldn't have imagined a better ending to an awful day.

[itsclydebitches]

Karlach hadn’t touched anyone in months. Years? It was hard to tell after being in the Hells so long. She curled in on herself, tight, her fifth bedroll growing charred like all the others. Karlach wondered if Dammon would really be able to invent another upgrade—another miracle she wasn’t sure she deserved. She wondered if Gale would think she was pathetic if she asked for a Mage Hand to hold through the night.

When the footsteps came Karlach had a hand on her ax before she'd even registered the sound. Then new instincts kicked in and she relaxed, turning with a sleepy smile.

“Hey, soldier.”

Tav grunted, yawning hugely behind the blanket they’d wrapped about them like a cloak. They’d doused the fire hours ago—too risky with so many goblins nearby—but Karlach could see Tav shivering, hard enough that their teeth were likely to wake the whole camp. They all but collapsed into the dirt beside her and Karlach couldn’t help but grin at their muffled exclamation. It sounded faintly... relieved?

“You good? Want to share with the class?

“You’re warm.”

Karlach blinked. Yeah? Duh. Obviously. That had been her problem for a while now. ‘Molten and scalding with the power of the literal Hells’ was a better way to put it, but she supposed ‘warm’ wasn’t wrong. She was just about to warn Tav off getting too close when they rolled over with a groan, tension bleeding out of their frame until there was just a Tav-shaped puddle framed in the moonlight. They cracked an eye, sheepish.

“You don't mind, do you? No way I’ll sleep otherwise.”

"What do—?"

Oh. Wait. Tav was cold and she was warm.

Gaping, Karlach shook her head. She tried to say something witty and reassuring, but all that came out was a strangled noise that rang with a gratitude she couldn’t explain—didn’t even realize was going to leave her throat. That must have been enough for Tav though because they mirrored their body to Karlach’s and tucked the blanket tighter, releasing a hand only to wave lazily at the shadows behind them.

“There’s still room,” they called.

“Thank Mystra for that,” Gale said, shuffling quickly into view. He blew on his hands before cocking his head in consideration. “Ah, but that would make me remiss in my thanks, wouldn’t it? Thank Karlach, rather,” and he gave her a bow that was ruined when he tumbled down beside her. “Blasted knees!”

Tav snorted. “Old man.”

“I’ll have you know I am a perfectly respectable age for a human and it is merely this gods’-awful cold that is wreaking havoc on my joints.”

“Chk. You would not last a day in the Astral Plane, wizard. There, it grows cold enough to leave frost on your limbs and enemies shatter when you pierce them, leaving blood-red crystals behind.”

“Is your acclimation to such harsh conditions why you’re joining this little party?”

Lae’zel and Shadowheart approached as a pair, the two of them jostling for space near Karlach’s feet. She resisted the urge to pull back, keep them safe, because Shadowheart sported a rare smile and Lae’zel was arching towards Karlach like a lizard seeking the sun. They brought with them bedrolls and blankets—clear plans to stay.

A pair of red eyes suddenly appeared, hovering ominously for a moment before they solidified into Astarion, surveying the group.

“Well, aren’t you all just adorable,” he purred. “The fearsome defenders of Faerûn felled by a cold night. I’m feeling safer already.”

“Not all of us are blessed with a spawn’s resistance to cold.” Wyll passed by Astarion’s shoulder, pausing only a fraction of a moment before snagging his collar and dragging him along. The fact that Astarion let him wasn’t half as shocking as the smile Wyll gave her while fluffing up his pillow, like having Karlach there was a gift.

One all of them were determined to appreciate.

They settled around her in perfect symmetry then: two above, two below, and one on either side. Karlach thought about saying, “Thank you.” Maybe, “Love you.” The words were still caught in her throat though, too heavy now for the gentle sound of six friends breathing in comfort. Karlach couldn’t disturb that.

So instead she concentrated on the feeling of other bodies lying near and the relaxation gracing Tav’s face. She couldn’t touch them, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t touched.

Smiling, Karlach let the purr of her heart lull her into sleep.

[lelalyo]

Wyll doesn't just deserve more content, he deserves better content, in my humble opinion.

I know a lot of people were concerned about the change of category (is that the proper phrase?) about the Ansur part of his quest but I feel like that part needs changing to a degree. Primarily because it doesn't feel very Wyll specific.

I feel like it focuses more on how the Emperor is a scumbag then anything to do with Wyll.

I'm not a writer by any stretch of the imagination but I feel like you could've still had that confrontation with Ansur and the Emperor and had something that tied to Wyll like after you fight him, maybe Ansur sees some of himself in Wyll - a loyal protector - a strong guardian - a man of morals and maybe Ansur decides he doesn't want history to repeat itself. He doesn't want someone else to fall victim to the Emperor again so he gifts Wyll power or a weapon or something that could put him on par with Mizora so he doesn't need her help anymore.

He held out, he endured, he stayed true to himself and finally, someone recognizes that, truly acknowledges his efforts and now he has power that is truly his, that he earned in his own right by being who he is.

Maybe then you could tie that into a climax, a final confrontation with Mizora. Maybe instead of killing his father in the Iron Throne, she simply kidnaps him from there before before you arrive to make Wyll panic that we were too late and something has happened to his father.

Maybe Mizora appears at camp with his father as a bargaining chip, mocks him for going on a wild goose chase and how amusing it was to watch. She could threaten his father to make Wyll more compliant, to try force him to resign the pact but this time is different.

This time Wyll, the Blade of Frontiers, isn't the one who's at a disadvantage. Maybe you could have a Durge vs Orin situation - a 1v1, duel to the death with strict rules of engagement to be fraught at the foot of the hill where this all began - if Mizora wins, Wyll resigns and can never break free from the hells. If Wyll wins, Mizora dies and his father goes free.

Maybe Mizora uses a loop hole in the duel's rules to cheat when she's near defeat and that's when you and the rest of your party jump in to keep Mizora's lackeys at bay while Wyll finishes her off and then a cutscene of the final blow, of Wyll's victory. Finally, he's a free man and his father sees him for who he is. His actions said everything they needed to.

I don't know, like I said, not a writer in any capacity and I feel like I'm just getting lost in my own musing - there's lots of things I didn't consider, like surely a situation like this would have point holes everywhere, especially since I don't know the first thing about DnD and it's lore but my original point was that I feel like Wyll needs a moment - that character defining moment that most of the other characters have - that time for him because he is a good character, I really like him and I hope that Larian listens.

I appreciate all the hard work they do with all the patches, never doubt that but I've always felt like Wyll's story needs more attention and it is important - he's a main character, an origin, he's a key feature of the game and that should take priority.

I love all the new features that they add (to a degree) but this is a core issue and I'd much prefer they work on the things that matter and add the fluff later.

Just my two cents though, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

Edit: I just remembered that devils go back to the hells when they die top side, right? (See, what did I say? Plot holes) but maybe it wouldn't matter since Wyll would've lived a long life by the time Mizora pops up again. Maybe she swears revenge on the Ravengard's and bam, plot for the next game. If there is one. LMAO

[grapecaseschoices]

things i'd like from bg4 or any similar future games

I think BG3 is very detailed; but I would really like it if the backgrounds had mattered more. Or at least for every one. I heard if you're a drow/half-drow noble you get special dialogue with Minthara. But why didn't my Folk Hero!Tav with Wyll [or just in general?] Or my Outlander!Tav with Karlach? I love that your character gets special interaction with all and sundry, at times, re: class and race. But backgrounds make a charcacter. I don't need details. Just a bit of a nod. At least within the camp.

This brings me to point two. I wish there was a way to get friendship points. It is so strange the characters can be 'meh' about you, dislike you [and strongly], but high to exceptional bonds trigger romance. What about close friendships or growing into a family?

Speaking of, I definitely would have love some down time chatter. It is so strange to me that you get a 'this could be our last time in camp' but don't do anything with it. I appreciate the tiefling [or goblin] party. I love the idle banter on the road. But why not a couple of casual fireside chats. As a group?

I love Halsin but the fact that he is the only one we can have a polyamorous dynamic with, is bull. I'm fine with not every character being into polyam -- but maybe research more before diving into it. I am 90% sure Wyll would've been okay with Polyam - a triad too! - if it was Halsin or Astarion [maybe with Lae'zel but I have to play further to be sure]. I could see Astarion and Shadowheart swinging a 'v' dynamic, and being the best [or worst for Tav's sanity] of metamours! Maybe it would have been a hassle for coding to fit every configuration, but we deserved at least a COUPLE of Tav x Origin x Origin loving.

Also, I think we should have been able to encourage - or maybe it could have happened sans MC involvement - the npcs getting together.

[punchratt]

Indulging in my brainrot again, heres that longer bg3 character design post i was talking about! (@dragonageshitpostingelves, i didnt forget you <3) Also, Spoiler Warning, i talk a lot about the companions backstory and quests, so don't read if you haven't finished those. Or do, I don't care.

Im gonna be honest and admit right now that I am sadly NOT a professional character designer, but instead just a nerd who likes to draw. I think the bg3 designs are amazing as they are and deserve a hell of a lot more praise then their already getting. That being said, i have many opinions about these funny little tadpole people. The first of them being that Gale, Wyll, and Astarion should not look like that. I mean, they all literally have the same body model, just give or take few scars and some hair, then swap the head. Which i think is a little shocking considering that the girls have much more diverse body types. Normally its the other way around.

First, Astarion. I love him, but i should not be able to grate cheese on his abs. Dude was a slave surviving off rats and living in the shadows for over 200 years, he's a rouge with 8 strength and no work out plan other then squatting so he can hide better. The last thing he should have is a six pack. I am a firm believer in scrawny Astarion, that man is wet noodle, he is malnourished and it should show. I should be able to see that mans ribs. Play that boy like a xylophone. This twink is not twinking right now and its driving me insane!

Im not saying he cant be sexy, in fact i think its very important that he is sexy. A big chunk of his story has to do with his relationship with sex and how he views romance as a whole. The whole point of his story is that he seems like the sexy vampier stereotype, but is actually a much more in depth character with a very complicated relationship to sex and romance. He needs to look sexy for that to work. But you don't gotta have a six pack to look sexy! Whenever i see him without a shirt all i can think of is that abs just don't look right on him. Everything else i think they've gotten perfect, he really does look like the character he's supposed to be and i can only applaud Larian for getting it so right, just.. lose the abs.

Second, Gale. I feel like I've already summed up how i feel about his design in my last post, but i like talking so i'm gonna say more! Gale should be chubby!! All he likes to do is ponder his orb, talk to his cat, and study magic. I firmly believe that he also has a side passion for food. After all, what is cooking if not potion brewing but different? Gale can appreciate a good meal and it should show! After all, eating and food is integral to his character with the whole arcane hunger thing he has going on. Give me my dad bod Gale and all wrongs in this world will be righted.

But to be a little more serious about this, i think his story becomes all the more poetic and tragic if you view him as someone who loves food. Because just imagine that you have three things you love, magic, food, and your goddess girlfriend. Now imagine that one day, to impress your goddess girlfriend, you do something kinda really stupid and end up with a magic nuke in your chest. But wait, it gets worse! Because of this failed grand gesture your goddess girlfriend breaks up with and banishes you. She leaves you to deal with this whole thing by yourself, all you have now is your cat and cooking. But wait, it gets even worse!! No matter how much you eat, yu arent ful, so you're constantly starvinng now, and thats how you find out that the bomb in your chest feeds on magic! Which means that now Gale has to ether find a way to keep it fed or he's gonna kamikaze half the swords coast. Meaning he has to eat any magical artifacts he gets his hands on while also dealing with the emotional damage of everything else. Food, one of the only things he had left, is now a stressful reminder of the fucked up situation he's in.

Now I don't think that means Gale starts to hate food, or resent it in some way, I still think he's the adorable little foodie goofball dork who insisted on being the camp cook. But i do think it makes his whole relationship with food something much more bittersweet, which is very interesting and something i feel could be reflected better in his already amazing design.

Third, Wyll. Wyll, I believe, is the most likely to be buff out of these three. Though, I don't think he'd show it as much as he does. We know he likes to dance, and that he enjoys a good sword fight more then anything! He used to fence with his father and overall is a very active guy. He is probably the character that most matches his body, there aren't many things I'd change. That being said, he is still a warlock with less strength then a hamster. He wouldn't be that muscly.

My dude is the son of a Grand Duke, he's had a relatively cushy life that didnt really get all that much harder after his dad gave him the boot (dick move btw). He's struggled, defiantly! But i don't think it'd be a reach to say that Wyll might have a little fat on him. I dont really have much to say other then i think he'd benefit from taking those abs away and putting that bulk somewhere else. When I imagine Wyll I imagine a man with some arm game and a pudgy belly. Maybe some calf muscle too, but overall nothing too defined since he doesn't really use strength in combat. I mean, why does Wyll have more defined abs then Lae'zel? Of all the origin characters she should have the most defined abs of the group. Not these three clowns(affectionate).

Wyll is a softie with a heart of gold, he should get to have a soft body to go with it. Plus it'd add more contrast between what parts are devil and what aren't. Sharp rough horns, a scarred face, and striking but intimidating eyes juxtaposed against a soft but somewhat built frame, quick whit, and a generally nice attitude make for a very interesting design! One that i think would be much more compelling then the kinda default muscly hero build he has now.

Now compare those to the secrete fourth option i didnt tell you about! Halsin! I think Halsin is designed perfectly and there is nothing i would change. He uses a unique body model from the other three and his design perfectly captures who he is as a character. He's big, appropriately buff, and looks kind. I look at that man and i think "yeah, thats a guy who occasionally turns into a bear", and he does! He looks like a natural born leader who knows how to make those tough decisions, he looks as inviting as he acts, and he looks like he gives amazing hugs. Bear hugs if you will! That man is a bear in every sense of the word, and whats more druid then that?

I only really brought him up to set him as sort of a standard for the designs of this game, because almost every single design is just as perfect and well thought out as his. I could go on for several more paragraphs about other characters and why their also perfect, or what other small little changes id make to their designs (cough cough, Lae'zel abs, cough) but this thing is getting long enough as is.

So to conclude. Fuck abs, and get them off my boys! If you've actually read this whole monstrosity, thank you. It took me over half a day to write and i still feel like i haven't touched on everything. Like, i didn't get to praise their designs nearly as much as i wanted to, but oh well. Maybe I'll make another post about the girls, maybe ill ramble about what i do like about the boys designs, i don't know. Depends on if anyone wants that, or if i still got gas left in the tank after this. Finally, please excuse any spelling errors and the inconsistent capitals. Its late, i have dyslexia, and i'll probably go back and fix it later. Thanks again for reading!

[theycallmeratt]

Flowers

"Your collection features a disturbing lack of consistency," Lae'zel said, somehow both looming over Wyll's shoulder and holding herself at perfect attention.

"It's not about visual appeal," Wyll explained. "It's a letter."

She snorted. "A letter. In flowers. When you have a functional set of written characters."

"It is a custom here to place flowers on graves. This year I'm telling mother of the people I have met." Most of Wyll's childhood had been spent behind a blade, but he'd always loved his mother's dried bouquets and spent many evenings poring over her books and notes to learn everything about each one.

Lae'zel quietly watched him tie individual bundles of clippings and arrange them in the larger one. "Which is me?"

"This." He pointed to it. One long stalk of proud red plumes, several inverted stalks of compact buds, and a collection of delicate, star-shaped flowers. Lae'zel's assessment was correct; they only suited each other in meaning. 

Lae'zel's lip curled into a sneer. "Showy. I am not showy."

"That is a gladiolus. A noble flower. It symbolizes integrity, strength, victory and loyalty."

Her face softened. "Accurate. What of the rest?"

"Borage. For bluntness. Directness."

The sneer was definitely a smile now. "And the one that is upside down?"

"Lavender."

"It smells… acceptable."

"Lavender, inverted, means trust. And tied with the ribbon on this side, it signifies that this spray represents my feelings towards you."

"You feel you can trust me."

He nodded.

"You will tie it both ways, then," she harrumphed. "What of the rest?"

He showed her Gale, with nightshade for magic, lupine for fascination and imagination, gathered around hollyhock for ambition and prolific creativity. Wyll was in two minds about stripping the blooms from the hollyhock and leaving only the buds. Stripping the ambition and leaving only the creativity. Hopefully next year.

Karlach's part, with chrysanthemum for positivity during suffering, zephyrlily for expectation of something awful (one he hoped to invert next year) and Fleur-de-Luce for fire and flames. The bundle for Tav, dahlia for leadership, in red for energy and yellow for friendship, lily of the valley for determination and daisies for hope. 

Shadowheart, with night orchid for moments of openness in the dark, forget-me-not—really a romantic flower, but he thought the theme applied strongly to her and he really would rather her not forget their friendship—and snapdragon, one upright and one inverted. One for lies told and secrets kept; one for lies admitted and secrets shared. 

Last was Astarion, the one he was most nervous about, although Astarion (as a complicated person) would likely appreciate the complicated meanings. Larkspur for levity and capriciousness, cockscomb for foppery and because it was named cockscomb, and hydrangea, which meant aloofness, a lack of sympathy, but also a gratefulness in being understood.

All of it was wrapped in ivy for friendship and loyalty, and surrounded by his mother's favorites. He added a ribbon around the massive bundle, finishing it with rosemary and clover. Remembrance and a promise to think of her.

"Apt," was all Lae'zel said.

~*~

A perfect, sunny morning, the perfect day to deliver his flowers. Wyll made his way to his mother's grave in the gardens of the Lower City. Her gardens; mother thought everyone deserved beauty.

"Your wad of weeds is lacking. Would that you use this to complete it."

Lae'zel, surprisingly. She raised her eyebrows, shifting her weight in a way that suggested nervousness. She thrust a small bouquet towards him and said, "The shop built it at my suggestion. They claim edelweiss is bravery and devotion, iris for valor, faith and hope, and monkshood for a chivalrous knight. I insisted that they used one that meant a 'fool who always must be the center of attention'. They did not comply."

"Narcissus, in the future."

"I will remember that."

He took it. "Whose is it?"

Lae'zel rolled her eyes. "Yours."

"I don't need–"

She sucked her teeth. "If it is as you say, a 'letter', to a woman who perished in your journey to this realm, then she cares not for us. You are her mission. Yours will be the first news she gets."

"Thank you," he said, lowering the bouquet to the grave.

"And for your outbursts, I have prepared handkerchiefs."

"I'm not going to cry," he laughed. "There was a time I would, but that is past. Now I'm sharing my happiness, not my grief."

She snorted. "And what of these weeds on her grave? I will remove them."

Wyll glanced at the plants, still young, then looked closer. Perhaps he shouldn't have dismissed Lae'zel's offer of handkerchiefs. "No. Leave them. They're a letter."

"Then it is not my concern. I will leave you to read it."

Wyll knelt by the grave, running his fingers over the flowers.

Celandine, volkamenia, ragweed. On a bed of moss, for a mother's love.

Happiness is coming. May you enjoy it. 

I love you, too.

[veatomis]

hi please tell me more about kyrtaar I can’t stop spinning them around in my brain!

what’s their relationship like with their party members? who’s their usual “squad”?

on the flip side, spare kyrtash info ? how did they meet? what was their first impression of that handsome greasy man? what drew them together? could post-tadpole kyr reconnect with gortash, or are they too different from their bhaalist self?

(this is a lot of questions so sorry if some of it’s been discussed before but im really curious (and I love kyrtaar’s design so much… white outfit covered in blood >>>))

Hi!!! Thank u so much for asking <33 most of these things i have discussed but only in my best friend's dms so it's really nice to get them out in the open, i appreciate any and all opportunities to be deranged abt kyrtaar <3

(putting this under the cut because again. derangement <3)

Their relationship with the companions is... strenuous at best. When i made them i specifically wanted to do an evil playthrough with them but i wanted them to kind of slowly lean into it, they don't remember anything upon waking up and they're having to deal with the violent and murderous urges and at first, they try to confide in the rest of the companions but all of them pretty much blowing them off and not taking their warnings seriously UNTIL they actually succumb and kill alfira and suddenly everyone is looking at them like they're a disgusting dangerous bug makes their blood boil and leads to them embracing their darker side (albeit in a more. cutthroat/strategic way at first, compared to the previous love for murder they had as a bhaalist).

Their only squad is shadowheart, astarion and minthara. Kyrtaar decided to ally with minthara and raid the grove so, no karlach, halsin or wyll </3 They convinced gale to stay but he's always acting very disgusted about how they are so they never take him with them. And lae'zel... they were very selfish and because the most pressing matter to them was recovering their memories (and unlike shadowheart, astarion and minthara's personal quests which they did "help" with) lae'zel's personal quest would have made them go out of their way and stall to much so they just. never helped her. and when her incessant demands to go there started to annoy kyrtaar too much they eventually stopped bringing her with them. Honestly the only person they really bonded with was minthara, even astarion and shadowheart were just temporary allies to make the journey easier, not real friends.

And of course u can have so spare kyrtash info. durgetash is the entire reason why i made kyrtaar lmao

In my mind the way the kyrtash meeting happens because of gortash's canon reasonings (becoming allies with the leader of an already established cult of another of the dead three could score him some points with Bane and make him ascend rank, i don't believe he was really the chosen of bane at the time of meeting kyrtaar or really that important of a banite) and since all gortash knew abt them was virtually nothing he ends up making a bit of a fool of himself (ie. not believing kyrtaar is the high primate and demanding an audience with the "real one" instead of some "lackey") so kyrtaar's first opinion on him is. not really good lmao. They think he's just an arrogant fucker shooting way above his station and their second meeting (after gortash finally does some homework) where gortash mentions kyrtaar's adoptive family that they murdered sours things even more.

To me their romance and attraction was a real slow burn, they spend quite a few years clashing but also not being able to truly step away from each other, their first years together they don't really understand one another BUT they can see the other's potential so they keep allying for dead three cult activities and it's not after kyrtaar threatens to leave for good if gortash doesn't show them AND their bhaalist faith the respect they deserve that they truly enter "there is no one else who gets me like you do" territory. After that... it's very many years of playing gay chicken with each other, where they make an effort to understand each other's motivations and drive and how to achieve their gods' plans together so the forced proximity with much less antagonism does them good + them seeing each other as equals strokes enver's ego perfectly (he's living the dream having a powerful, competent, chosen from birth demigod as an ally) while also soothing kyrtaar's need for someone to see them as a person with their own needs and wants and not just a weapon, or a monster, or their father's greatest creation

If gortash was living the dream before kyrtaar got tadpoled, after?? he is in absolute heaven. The problem with kyrtaar while they were bhaal's chosen (after they got over their hangups abt being a bhaalspawn and everything that comes with it) is that they would've made the perfect banite. They ruled bhaal's temple with an iron fist and the only thing that actually tipped them over to being a devout bhaalist was just how much bhaal's vision for the world and their role in it had a grip on their actions and thoughts and "hopes" for the future. So when they learn abt their father abandoning them and letting orin take their place post tadpole all that faith is impossible to bring back and they feel extremely resentful towards bhaal. The one thing that made them the greatest bhaalist is gone but their dominance, their desire for having only the utmost respect directed at them, their calculating mind is all still there which honestly makes things easier for kyrtash to flourish again it took them nine years to finally get together pre tadpole but the underlying physical and romantic attraction + kyrtaar's change in loyalties towards gods makes things move wayyy faster post tadpole. ++ even though they're not a bhaalist anymore kyrtaar is not a good person lmao, they've been making cruel and horrifying choices for most of their life and they've become quite comfortable with that way of navigating the world so gortash doesn't have to deal with a kyrtaar with a conscience or anything, they're still two bad people who truly deserve each other <3

[tododeku-or-bust]

hi! im a shy wyllstarion enjoyer and i cant speak for anyone else that ships them but i see them as a healthy pair that are good for each other!! i think wyll helps astarion see his own inherent worth and loves him unconditionally. astarion i think helps wyll to be more selfish and self-preserving (in a positive way!) and i think together theyre navigating their monsterhood and see the humanity in the other and not just a scary veneer. also i see wyll as being extremely doting and astarion as being nominally like "stooooop" but he likes it secretly. he (astarion) returns the favors in small gestures, and kind but teasing words of support

Hello shy wyllstarion enjoyer! I appreciate your input.

I hear what you're saying! I understand the canon dynamic, or at least what I've picked up from what's around me. I do plan on trying to find a good playthrough of their story together to learn more and see how I feel. Bc I love those sorts of stories, I really do!

The dynamic itself is not my concern, as much as the.....care that goes into it, in the fandom. I understand these are fictional characters in a fictional setting, but alas I am a real person who is unfortunately good at picking at real world biases in the things I read. And very often it is very disheartening (at best) to see a character that looks like me! And I'm excited! And then I get to the fan space and the ship is essentially "everyone dotes and coddles and loves and offers nuance to the white character, and the black character is... There. Minimally understood. Thoughtlessness. Perhaps even active malice directed in order to bolster the white character's characterization."

And this isn't towards those shippers or space! I don't even know y'all yet, and so far mostly everything I've seen art wise in my for you has been well done and respectful towards Wyll. But unfortunately I have to worry about those sorts of things when I open my heart up to a new space with a Black character in it. I think we deserve to see ourselves loved, doted on, and suffered for (I am a hurt/comfort lover) the way everyone does.

So.... We'll see. It might still be worth it for me, I'm excited!

[omgkalyppso]

@sevarix-blogs tagged me for sharing some of a WIP ... and I'd said I'd share for someone else leaving an open tag for the Last Line of a WIP a few days ago and forgot. My WIPs are all a mess. Some are just dialogue, some are cut up scenes that still need to be reorganized. Still, I'll share from three WIPs here for fun.

I'll tag @boghermit, @bosspigeon, @lemonbronze, @bladesandstars and YOU.

Still working on the Astarion ate a bear conversation WIP:

Astarion had been hunting for some time, and he returned with the most graceless approach, tripping over a cauldron at Lae’zel’s tent with his arms stretched wide as if he’d been meaning to keep track of his steps. “Stay out of my things, darkling!” Lae’zel shouted, interrupting her conversation where Astarion might have otherwise been ignored. “With pleasure, gith,” Astarion said, laying one hand on his unbeating heart and stretching the other out overhead. “Alright, Astarion?” asked Shadowheart, eyebrows raised. “All the better,” Astarion’s words danced with the cadence of an elf who was far further into his cups than either Étoile or Shadowheart, “that you’re concerned for me, my sweet.” Shadowheart made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan as she objected. “Don’t misunderstand. I’m only worried that you’d return from your hunt with some contagion. These caves are riddled with stagnation and rot.” “Just like home,” Astarion exaggerated, arms spread wide again, hands flicked skyward. He quickly followed it up with a laugh that had the teensiest hiccough in it, lending to his inebriated air.

I started working on a WIP of Wyll writing poetry with Gale's encouragement for the prompt Modern AU for wyllweek but I psyched myself out so it is also still a WIP. Background Gale x my dragonborn Upton:

Wyll: [stating the obvious as Gale has a pen and notepad] Working on something? Gale: Mm. Well, just another gift for the dragon of my heart, as it were. There's few enough rhymes for bronze that I definitely need to pick up a pen when inspiration strikes. Wyll: How do you decide which gifts are worth giving? Gale: Now there's a telling anxiety if I ever heard one. If there's a possibility your audience is going to be disrespectful of the efforts you make, and your heart on your sleeve, Wyll Ravengard, then they don't deserve you. That said, poetry is as much about the audience and the medium as it is about the quality. I know that whatever I scribble down … Upton appreciates that I was thinking of them. The rest is imagined, I suppose I could talk to them about it — how I consider each syllable, and each revolving turn of phrase, with the hope that I can bring them new joy, that the maze around my heart, no more navigable by my manner of elocution, might be more manageable to them. They are celebrations of our bond, their love, their beauty, but they are also pleas of affection, calls to understanding, expressions of vulnerability. And those are harder to share when you put more of yourself in your writing, or when you can't trust those emotions to be well received — even when they are, the way people can misread intent or metaphor, or latch onto some throwaway sentiment you thought to include — it's hard, to write and to share, not even considering the technicalities and imagination of the hobby. Do you keep a journal? Wyll: No. I read and I can recite some poetry, but … I didn't— I didn't keep a journal while I was backpacking, though maybe I should have. I— I'm not thinking of writing for love, or to share with anyone. Maybe someday, but … The world has such vibrancy in it. I'm not a bard, but I'd think I prefer it through a poet's lens sometimes. Gale: As one should. There's a dreamer in all of us, and poetry has connected people to history, to culture, to themselves and to each other — since time immemorial. You needn't worry about sharing it with anyone, but those connections are always open to you. And it may be a tad hypocritical, having never shared my own work, but I'd love to read your poetry, if you're in need of an audience. Wyll: No, no, no. You don't get out of showing me yours by asking for mine. Not when you have the advantage of experience— Gale: Oooo. That may be the politest way I've been called old, but it still stings [holding his heart] right here. Upton: [sitting on the arm of Gale's chair] Wyll called you old? Gale: [standing so Upton can take up most of the chair's real estate] He said I had the benefit— Wyll: Advantage. Gale: [sitting in Upton's lap] The advantage of experience. Wyll: [in his own defense] In regards to poetry. Upton: [delighted, leaning around Gale so he almost falls over] Are you going to write inexperienced poetry, Wyll?

And I'll share a very little bit of my The Pale Elf vs Cazador fight rewrite WIP:

Astarion: You don't love anything. Cazador: Do you not know the meaning of the word sacrifice? One eats an apple and thinks nothing of it, a fruit made to be consumed. But what of eating a friend, a lover, a son. You were made to be sacrificed, but my love was no less true for my role in your extermination. Astarion: Fuck you. And fuck everything you ever did to me. Cazador: You are my spawn, you are my family, and you came home like a good little apple when it was time for harvest.

While it might just be bad and cheesy I like the idea of Cazador likening Astarion to being worth more to him than nothing only to immediately refute that in the next sentence from his mouth. He should have been a man of twisted love and contradictions imo, not blindly evil.

[milesplayshu]

Personal Companion Ranking

Gale: Just the most captivating storywise. There's tragedy, there's soft domestic moments, him being the camp cook because of course he is. His romance is just so emotional to me, a perfectionist groomed by a goddess then punished and tossed away, still blaming himself for not being enough even though he did too much. Even if you don't romance him it takes Tav to make him trust his worth and his skill to save the world. Loves cats and getting cozy with a book and wine. Kinda divorcecore malewife.

Karlach: I don't even need to say anything, noone dislikes Karlach. If anything people will want her to be number 1. She's my best friend, she's the sister I never had, she's mother, she's the legally elected president of Girlbossia.

Wyll: All characters revolve around getting the short stick in a relationship with a power imbalance, but he is just the most infuriating cause he WILLINGLY gave up everything, always picks the right thing even though he has never been rewarded for it. No good deed goes unpunished, but no punishment can undo the good he did. Deserves way more love from the fans.

Lae'zel and Shadowheart: I feel like they fall into the same category of being raised in a strict, religious, militaristic environment away from any outside influence. I appreciate them for who they are and I like their story arcs but personally cannot relate at all.

Halsin: My bear husband. I haven't finished a playthrough with his romance. The only reason he isn't higher in my list is his lack of content. Free spirit pansexual poly bear dilf would be my number 1 if he was more involved in the story.

Jaheira and Minsc: Cute characters, badass old-timers with a sweet personality under the tough shell. I like them but I think the full time companion slot would be better used for Isobel, Aylin, Alfira or literally any newcomer.

Ast*rion: 🤢

[tieflingtareon]

My love, are you the devil? (Oh, call me a devil)

Chapter 27 | Words: 5.2k

Summary: Astarion found himself often surprised by his heroic companion. He had one goal. To become the favoured companion of the group, to earn the Tieflings loyalty, to make Tar'eons strength his own. Yet Tar'eon isn't like the usual target of his manipulations. Despite his naivety, he does not seem gullible. There is something very wrong with their 'leader' to begin with. Astarion isn't sure if he wants to control it or eradicate the threat it posed. But can he really do either when Tar'eon himself seems so...unwaveringly kind?

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668558/chapters/127995079

Tar'eon didn't have his own tent, so he hid away in Astarion's. It was vacant, and if he was honest, he wasn't sure he could stand talking to anyone else right now. He curled up in the piles of clothes, head on the stolen pillow and wrapped up in the blanket from the inn, nestling himself down to sleep. It wasn't even midday but he didn't want to think anymore. For once, he wanted to sleep dreamlessly.

By some miracle, he managed to sleep for a bit before he awoke to the tent opening, sunshine draping across his features.

"There you are." Astarion tutted. "You know, it's quite rude to enter ones abode without permission."

"I needed to be alone, and I don't have my own tent."

"Right, because you prefer sleeping under the stars." Astarion mused and closed the flap behind him, sitting beside the tiefling. "So...are you going to tell me why you suddenly deserted us out there? Oh, by the way, Karlach personally invited Yenna and her cat to stay with us. I told her we have enough strays, but Wyll backed up her decision so..."

"I'm glad she's here, rather than alone." Tar'eon turned to properly face Astarion, sighing. "It's just...seeing Orin - it shook me up. I've never felt so...angry before. In my life. Something about her gets under my skin, and I was afraid of what I'd do. I almost killed that smith."

"Yes, that was...honestly? Quite arousing. Terrifying, but arousing. You really should threaten people more often."

"Astar."

"Right, apologises." Astarion clicked his tongue. "She had a lot to say to you, that shapeshifter."

"Yeah..."

"She called you 'sibling'. Remarked on your father."

"She did."

"Are you going to tell me why she'd say such a thing or...?" Astarion gestured for him to explain, but Tar'eon had nothing to say.

"I don't know. I don't remember. But I know my memories? She took them. She scrambled with my brain and now...I know nothing." He hated her. 'Sister' or not. "Maybe she meant sibling in a different sense. We certainly don't look alike."

"Well, considering you share a father apparently..." Astarion frowned before smirking. "At least I'm not the only one who'll be having a family reunion."

"Gods, I hope not." Tar'eon pinched his brow.

"We still have four hours of daylight...Perhaps a trip to the circus would help take your mind off things?" Astarion mused and Tar'eon chuckled.

"A circus? I don't recall ever going to one."

"Karlach is begging to go, I beg you to save me from this." He pleaded and Tar'eon gave it a thought. The circus...after all the crap they'd been through, a circus sounded quite nice honestly. A day off, if anything. They deserved one of those.

"We should go."

"Ugh, I was hoping you'd say no."

"Then why ask?" Tar'eon grinned, amused but Astarion's pout.

"Because I was trying that 'nice' thing you keep encouraging." Tar'eon shook his head fondly and sat up to kiss Astarion softly.

"I appreciate it. Come on. I don't want to slump about over this. Maybe going out will help."

"That's the spirit. No point in being a depressing lump in my tent."

Tar'eon chuckled. Astarion had played him like a fiddle. But for once, it was to benefit him rather than himself. That was an improvement when it came to his silver tongue.

****

"I'm not wearing that." Astarion refused as Tar'eon crept closer with the face paint.

"Come on! You're supposed to be hiding anyway, aren't you?" Tar'eon grinned.

"I'd rather be found by Cazador than wear that crap on my face."

"Oh, oh, me! Let me!" Karlach insisted, pointing at her own face. Tar'eon laughed and began painting her face with a steady hand. "Oh, it's cold!"

"Everything's cold compared to you, Karlach." Shadowheart chuckled and stole some paint for herself, happy to disguise herself given her current status as a traitor to Shar.

"You're right - I'll happily warm you right up, baby!" Karlach beamed at her girlfriend, and Shadowheart rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.

"Ugh - I'm going to go pick pocket some patrons, anything to escape this dreadful place." Astarion waved his hand and slipped away into a crowd of people. Tar'eon shook his head. He hoped he got caught.

He painted a giant blue butterfly across Karlach's face and she let out a squeal when she saw it.

"Amazing! Gods, I look good. You ever thought of taking up painting once this is all over?"

"I'm not that good." Tar'eon was flattered though.

"Karlach's not joking. You have some talent." Shadowheart assured. "Maybe you painted before."

"A painter and a bard - quite the creative person I was, huh?" Tar'eon mused. He probably painted with blood and charmed people to walk off cliffs with his flute, no doubt.

"You know, I don't think I've ever heard you play." Karlach frowned. "Can you?"

"Of course I can. I can play just about any instrument I put my hands if I put my mind to it. I just...prefer the flute." Tar'eon took his flute and frowned as he walked down the steps. He placed his lips to the mouthpiece and decided to play a cheerful, adventurous tune, eyes falling shut. He hadn't really played because he hadn't the time, or the privacy to. Yet when he put his lips to it, he could feel something connecting inside his brain.

A memory.

In his memory, the tune was softer. More mellow. There was no rush, no upbeat tick to it. Every note was drawn out, peaceful like walking along a riverbank beneath a full moon. Behind his eyelids, he could see a dark office, lit by candlelight. There was a presence behind him, he could feel it, but there was no fear. No anticipation. He was not in danger. The presence was as mellow as his song.

A warm hand curled around his throat, the cold claws sharp but not biting. His head fell back, and within the memory, darkness followed. He had closed his eyes. The music continued to play, air still leaving his lungs as his throat was cradled. There was submission in the act, something he knew was not freely given.

"Tir'yal...are you trying to charm me?" The music did not stop. The hand did not move. There was simply a chuckle, warm and low.

The memory faded into nothing, warped away, but Tar'eon could still feel the phantom hand on his throat as he pulled the flute from his lips. His upbeat tune had changed to that mellow one, and there were people crowding around him, looking mesmerizing.

"Wow..." Karlach breathed. "I don't think I've ever been moved by a flute solo before. Hells." She placed a hand on her chest. "I actually feel...almost cold."

"Was that your own song?" Shadowheart asked. "It was so...calming. Yet sad. I don't think I've ever entertained the flute as an emotional instrument before."

"I...I'm not sure if it's my song. I think it is." Tar'eon frowned, shaking his head. He couldn't get the memory out of his head. He hadn't realised playing his flute would open up more of his past to him. What else could he do to remember it? It was the only memory of his past that wasn't smeared with blood.

Who in Faerun was he? And who was the man with him? He used his infernal name with such ease...Like he knew the language well enough to call it his own.

"Whatever you were playing, it occupied the people well enough for me to nick a very pretty ring and some coin." Astarion grinned as he came to his side. "A beautiful song it was, darling. Perhaps I can show my talents at the piano one day. We'd make quite the duo."

Tar'eon smiled at the thought.

"I'd love to play with you." He could imagine in now, Astarion on the piano with his elegant fingers, Tar'eon with his flute pressed against his lips, creating a harmony together in a house they could call their own. It was a nice dream, and he hoped one day to experience it. He turned around to depart from the crowd and found himself stumbling over a few steps, righting himself in front of a woman with red hair - a druid. Or, he was definitely assuming druid with all the leaves and branches covering her modesty.

"Sorry, I-"

"This city of stone and steel is an endless scream in nature's womb. I have left no peace here." She turned to him and smiled serenely. "Until now. Your eyes, stira...there is pain, endless and deep. But also devotion - blazing like the sun. You're in love, are you not?"

Tar'eon stood straighter, his cheeks a touch hot at how easily she seemed to read him. It was a little unsettling, but there was little to hide from what he was guessing was a nymph - a dryad.

"I...yes. I am." There was no point in lying to the woman. "To someone quite close to me."

"You are wise to admit it. When it comes to love, vulnerability is armour. Truth, a sword. And trust, a shield." Tar'eon took in a deep breath, a little overwhelmed by her insight, but he understood. Love was not weakness. Being weak with the one you love was a strength in itself. To bare yourself before another...it was a risk that came with high rewards if you were lucky to bare yourself to the right person. "I pray you wield all three, stira."

Tar'eon smiled softly. It may be a sham she ran for the circus, but it made him feel good about putting his heart in Astarion's hands, even if they had conflicting views on power.

"Bring the one you love to me. I will look into your hearts and see if your love is eternal. Or doomed eternally." Tar'eon bit his lip. It was probably a scam. He doubted she would be able to know if Astarion and him were worth the journey, the pain and the healing, but...Gods, he wanted to have someone say it was. He wanted to know he was making the right choice with his heart, or if he was doomed to simply live with the heartache Astarion may bring him.

He turned to Astarion who was looking at the dryad sceptically, like he didn't quite think her predictions to be true, but when his eyes met his, they widened.

"Would you...like to try it? With me?" He offered his hand to Astarion and the vampire seemed surprised before he smiled, indulging Tar'eon.

"Oh my love, how could I say no?" He took his hand and came to stand beside him. Most circus' were full of scammers, sham magicians, but he didn't mind go through a little 'test of love' to make Tar'eon feel more secure in...whatever they were. Astarion didn't want to admit it to himself, but - he was also a touch insecure about their relationship. After the previous night, he felt like he was walking on eggshells, trying to ignore the forbidden ritual looming over their heads.

"Close your eyes, little ones. Be still as stone to earth. And remember to breathe."

"Do you think we could try next?" Karlach whispered to Shadowheart who smiled softly.

"I doubt she will be able to tell you anything I can't tell you myself about my feelings for you."

"Gods, I love you." Karlach grinned. "I still want to though."

"Alright, alright. Later."

Tar'eon closed his eyes, smiling to himself. Moments passed, and he only opened his eyes when he felt a shift in the air around him. A gentle breeze, the sound of a waterfall and running water - a lack of noise from the people around them. His hand was now empty as he looked around, finding himself in a peaceful hideaway of stone and moss, a tree trunk the only means to Astarion who stood on the other side with the dryad.

"Ah. Glorious. Your bond is sweeter than nature's dew. I see you. Know you. But do you know one another?"

"I know he's sweeter than nature's dew." Astarion joked, licking his lips and showing off his fangs in a grin as if to tease the dryad. Tar'eon suppressed a laugh, a finger to his lips as if to silence himself.

"Astarion: a tumultuous past hides behind a mirthful grin." Astarion made a small tutting sound at her insightful words. He didn't quite like being seen through so blatantly. "The heart is fraught, so let us begin with the joyous. When is he happiest?"

Tar'eon frowned, giving it a thought. When was Astarion happiest...?

"Well...I like to think he's happiest when we're alone. When he's being heard, listened to, and cared for. He likes fine things, and he like special treatment." Tar'eon mused before chuckling. "But I'd have to say he smiles most when elbow-deep in gore."

Astarion laughed, able to forget the personal part of his words in favour of the satisfying answer.

"Guilty as charged. Sometimes literally." Astarion shrugged with a smirk and Tar'eon walked closer, only pausing when the dryad spoke again.

"Your bond beats in pleasure. It is an honour to behold."

"Not the only kind of pleasure we get up to." Astarion quipped with a grinned. "Well, not recently, but the memories are good enough." He winked. Tar'eon shook his head, smile fond.

"Many things delight the heart, but only one makes it sing. Tell me, what does he desire more than anything?" Astarion frowned, looking away. He damn well knew the answer, but it wasn't one he'd like to be aired out like dirty laundry, thank you.

"Freedom." Tar'eon answered honestly. "That's all he's ever wanted. It's what he deserves."

"You're not wrong, but do we need to tell every stranger we meet our business?" Astarion narrowed his eyes and Tar'eon smiled as he walked closer.

"You're allowed your quips. I'm allowed my honesty." Astarion rolled his eyes.

"Our touch has been that of sunlight, but now we must ask the deep. The difficult. Fear sits in the soul of all - to tame it, we must name it. What is his deepest fear?" Tar'eon looked at Astarion, who was glaring at him, daring him to voice it out loud. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to chuck away the truth just this once. For his sake.

"Breaking a nail." Astarion laughed.

"Well, when you look this good..." He made a show of check his nails before his expression grew more serious, walking across the tree trunk to meet him. "Well, you were right every time. I almost wish you hadn't been, but...you do know me."

Tar'eon smiled and took his hand in his, squeezing gently.

"I press my fingers to your bond and find a shield - impenetrable. It is...beautiful." She sounded awed, and it made Tar'eons heart swell. "Your love is one few have - cherish it." She came closer, and then paused. "I only wonder if it is shared with such fervour."

The pair frowned, looking at her in confusion.

"Tar'eon...when is he happiest?" She was looking at Astarion now, who seemed dumbfounded to be asked such a personal question.

"I...Well..." Astarion actually looked embarrassed as he looked away from them both, Tar'eons hand holding his.

"You don't have to answer. I already know you care for me, Astar."

"Well...it's only fair to spill your dirty secrets in return." Astarion cleared his throat, licking his lips. "I...He's happiest when- when he's with his people." Tar'eons heart warmed, a small smile on his lips, but Astarion wasn't finished.

"He's happiest when he's talking to children, when an animal lets him get close, when he- when he can enjoy a good book in peace, and learn something new and - he seems happiest with...me." Astarion swallowed, heat burning the back of his neck. "Despite how much I'm sure I grate on his nerves."

"Even when I'm annoyed with you, I'm still happy to see you." Tar'eon agreed.

"Gods, you're a sap." Astarion scoffed like he hadn't said something so endearing just moments ago.

"You watch him close, for fear he may leave if you don't. He has made your heart beat again, and it is glorious yet terrifying." She seemed as if she was in love herself, her eyes almost starry despite their bright glow. "Tell me, what does he desire more than anything?"

Astarion bit his lip, sucking on it before he let go and huffed.

"Freedom. We're one in the same in that regard. He wants to be free of parts of himself, and I wish to be free of others."

"Perhaps there is more layers to be found within your partners desires." She mused and Tar'eons stomach churned.

"He was right. I do want to be free." Even if there was much more to it than that. "I want to be in control of my life, my actions."

"What is his deepest fear? The thing he fears above all else?" She continued, and Tar'eon watched Astarion, wondering what he'd say.

"He...he fears losing himself. Who doesn't?" Astarion had lost himself for years in his abuse, so many memories fuzzy from dissociation. From trying to get away in the only way he knew how.

"Perhaps there is something more terrifying than losing ones self?" She was talking to him this time, staring into his very soul, and Tar'eon swallowed hard.

"I...I fear losing him, even more than myself." He admitted. "I'm scared of become a monster; but I fear the monster devouring him more."

"The sword to the shield. Your love is both impenetrable, yet sharp. Where one protects," She gestured to Tar'eon. "The only defends." She smiled at Astarion who couldn't take his eyes off Tar'eon. "A perfect balance. All you need is the armour. Vulnerability. To truly bare yourselves to the other. Do not let secrets and insecurity fester and build a wall between you. Let truth and honesty by your bridge to one another."

She came closer, and the peaceful enclave disappeared, the sound of the city coming back to them. Tar'eon stared at her with wide eyes. He felt like he been stripped raw and put back together. She truly had dug down deep into them and forced them to face the matters at hand. Their love was not doomed - so long as they spoke to each other in truths and not falsehoods.

"Go in peace, seedlings. And know that you made one whose heart was long quiet beat with love anew." She smiled at them and Tar'eon nodded sharply. "And that you," She gestured to Astarion. "Have gained devotion and loyalty unlike any other you could conceive."

The pair stepped back from her, Tar'eon bowing his head in respect. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to say thank you or not.

"I..." Astarion looked lost for words.

"Me next! This is my girl, Shadowheart. We're ready to test our love, nature lady." Karlach grinned and Shadowheart shook her head, beyond amused.

"It can't hurt, I suppose - unless you embarrass me. Then you might find yourself hurting in a whole manner of ways."

"Hopefully only the good kind." Karlach winked. Tar'eon watched as the pair closed their eyes, turning to look at Astarion.

"You really feel that way?" Astarion asked, casting his gaze aside, unable to look into those mismatched eyes. "I...I knew you cared, but I never assumed I would be above your own life. I should have know, you've always had a gentle heart, trying to save everyone."

"You are above everyone." Tar'eon sighed, resigned to that fact of his life. "It's why I don't want you to do the ritual, Astar. Because I know I'll let you, and those deaths will never stop haunting me, knowing I could have stopped you from doing so. One persons life for several seems only justified, until you love that one person too much to ever hurt them."

"You would?" Astarion frowned. "If I did the ritual...you wouldn't leave?"

"I wouldn't. I'm not sure that's a good thing, though."

"I know you think this is only for power for me - but it's more than that. I'm taking everything from him. I will not be satisfied unless I inflict the same torture he inflicted on all of us. On me." Astarion scowled before his expression softened, looking up at Tar'eon. "I could give us so much more time, Tar'eon. If I ascended - you wouldn't have to fear hurting me. And I would never have to fear you dying long before I ever will. I could change you, make you my equal. Things could be perfect. Forever."

"And I would be haunted by the souls we damned, forever." Tar'eon reminded and shook his head softly. "I don't want to lose you. I fear messing with a devils contract will only bite us in the arse later. That you'll become someone different from the person I love."

"I won't." Astarion sighed, not sure how to get through to the man. "I'll still be me. Just...better."

"You are already perfect, Astar." Tar'eon took his face in his hands and thumbed at his cheeks. "There is nothing better than you. Not to me. You are perfection. You haunt my dreams and thoughts, and they are sweeter than anything I could ever taste. You may think yourself broken or imperfect or weak, but you are beautiful and quintessential and strong to me. You don't need some ritual to become better. You need Cazador dead, and to finally have the chance to move on and live."

He rested his forehead against his, eyes falling shut.

"I want to live with you. Once all of this is over, I want to spend the rest of my life at your side, in whatever way you will have me. I want to be your shield, your armour, your blade. I want to be yours, and for you to be mine. I want to be the modest man who worships the ground you walk on, even if I cannot be the rich man you slit the throat of." He chuckled, slowly opening his eyes to look at Astarion.

His eyes were glossy and wet, but he was refusing to shed tears. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at Tar'eon, lips twisted with bitterness.

"You offer all of that to me and expect me to not want it forever." He took his hands and moved them from his face, stepping back and turning around to weave through the crowd. If he was attempting to disappear within it, he was failing, his white curls sticking out like a sore thumb, but Tar'eon let him go.

He sighed, looking up at the sky. Whatever God was watching over him...He'd like a blessing one of these days.

****

He had really hoped there would be no bloodshed at the circus, but apparently whatever God was watching over him hated him and demanded it. He never thought he'd kill a clown, and yet...

He used the carter of water to wash the blood off his face and armour, offering Astarion one as well. Shadowheart was attempting to wash the paint off Karlach's face, but the tiefling was insisting she liked it and didn't want to ruin his 'art'.

"I'm more interested in kissing my girlfriend, not a butterfly." Which managed to make the barbarian sit patiently (she still wiggled, but it was Karlach) while the cleric rubbed blood and paint off her skin.

"Good! You lot made it back in time for dinner." Gale called as he walked away from the fire, quirking a brow. "Murder on the first day? I shouldn't be surprised, but I am. I thought you were scouting Rivington?"

"We went to the circus." Astarion grumbled.

"The circus? What fun! You know, that might help Yenna's spirits - maybe I'll take her and Wyll out tomorrow."

"Oh, uh, we kind of...killed them." Tar'eon admitted.

"You- you killed the circus? By Mystra - why?!"

"They attacked me first!" Karlach piped up, Shadowheart attempting to scrub blue paint from her cheek, holding her by her horn as she attempted to move away from it like a fussy pet. "They deserved it!"

"Absolute worshippers." Tar'eon explained and Gale sighed.

"All the good things get ruined before I can experience them. Surely I can join you tomorrow?"

"That should be fine. Shadowheart, Karlach, are you two alright to stay at camp tomorrow?"

"I guess. I'll just stay here and eat dirt or something." Karlach pouted.

"I'll stay and make sure she doesn't eat dirt." Shadowheart smirked.

"Gale, we leave early tomorrow."

"Fantastic!" The wizard clapped his hands together. "I'm sure Wyll will be happy to join us too."

"Obviously." Tar'eon smiled, knowing the two were basically a package deal at this point, the same as Karlach and Shadowheart.

"Oh amazing, does that mean I get to stay back too?" Astarion purred. "I mean, with two magic users on your team, surely you don't need my petty dagger, hm?"

"Astarion, you dismiss you own prowess!" Gale shook his head. "We all know an arrow from you is a deadly strike. Your precision is unlike anything a wizard myself could master. Magic is much too wild to have the same effect." Astarion grimaced but he accepted the praise.

"Well...someone has to hold this team together." He relented and tucked a curl behind his ear. "It may as well be yours truly."

"It's settled then. Gale, Wyll, yourself and I." Tar'eon smirked, smiling wider when Astarion glared at him. "Missed a spot, ph myirz." He reached over and wiped some blood off his ear.

"You're the exact reason I need time to read, you infernal bastard." Astarion muttered. He still didn't know what those damn words meant.

"Hm?" Tar'eons eyes crinkled with mischief as he shifted closer to the vampire, leaning in with a smirk. "You are the most radiant man I've ever met, and I want to consume every inch of you to shine half as brightly. I want to suck every last drop of sunlight out of your body through your cock." He let the natural hiss of the language overtake his words, the infernal sliding off his tongue like butter, and laughed into Astarion's shoulder when Karlach squawked.

"You dirty fuck!" She cackled. Tar'eon had forgotten she spent ten years likely speaking infernal to her fellow soldiers.

"I- Gods, what did you say?" Astarion asked, bewildered.

"Apparently something very naughty." Gale smirked.

"Keep studying, and maybe you'll find out." Tar'eon grinned.

"Oh you-" Astarion glowered and shoved him away, retreating to his tent.

"Xe dajy haf!"

"Keep your devils tongue to yourself!"

"That's the opposite of what he wants to do, buddy." Karlach snorted. Astarion closed the flap of his tent sharply and Tar'eon blushed.

"You think I went too far?" He asked.

"He's a big boy. He can take a joke." Shadowheart chuckled.

"Dinner is going to get cold if we keep chatting. Clean yourselves up and come to the fire. Yenna is quite the cook, with a guiding hand." Gale smiled with pride and made his way back to the fire where Wyll was helping Yenna with the hot ladle, pouring stew into a bowl for her.

Tar'eon smiled to himself. Even if her mother never came back for her...he was sure she wouldn't be alone. Not anymore.

****

As per usual, restless sleep plagued him. He scowled as he tossed and turned, trying to find peace in his dreams for once, but it seemed he did not get a choice.

"Naughty, naughty, naughty little master." He growled at the familiar voice, shooting up to face Fel, but he was no longer on his bedroll. Instead he was surrounded by stone, ominously doused in red light, an altar before him. He felt like he was home, yet it was unsettling all at once. Something was wrong. This wasn't camp. This wasn't home.

"You have disobeyed your Father's wishes one time too many." Fel's voice was still heard, but he couldn't see him, walking closer to the skull carved into the wall. There was a sense of dread, but also...belonging. Devotion. This...this was Father.

"For he who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself becomes a monster." The sockets of the skull burst red with magic, staring down upon him. Father was here. Father was watching. "When you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."

He felt another presence in the room and turned to the altar, the slab of stone he could remember from another dream. The dream where he killed his guardian, his sacrifice. Now, Orin laid there, playing with her blade. A blade that didn't belong to her, his mind whispered with wrath.

"Another will embrace what you have rejected." Orin turned to look at him and he glared in response to her baring of teeth. "And that other will be your death." If he wasn't hers first, his conniving bitch of a sister, always after his destiny-

His destiny? No. No, that wasn't right...

"But your Father loves you dearly. You may reinherit yourself yet." Fel assured even as Orin pointed her dagger at him. His heart began to race. This was all wrong. This wasn't who he was. He wasn't- he couldn't be-!

Orin turned into a fearsome creature, with more spikes and claws and teeth than any beast of the Hells could conjure up. It struck fear into his very soul and he stumbled back as it approached, a heavy foot slamming down into his chest, pinning him to the altar.

"Slaughter your line. Become the last of your name." The Urge, the anger, it screamed in him to do it, to slaughter his sister, but the human part of him, his present self, didn't want to be another pawn in this game.

"Lord Bhaal shall have but one Chosen."

He wanted to be Father's favourite again. He wanted to be his Chosen. He wanted to be forgiven. He wanted to-

He wanted to kill Orin.

Sister or not, Chosen or not, he would kill the woman who stole his memories from him. Stole him from his life. He would kill Bhaal's Chosen, take her stone, and he would set things right.

He woke with a start, breathing hard. Rage burned beneath his skin as snatches of his past came back to him, all coated in gore and blood, in worship and devotion. He had lead his congregations, had been their master for years, and Bhaal...Bhaal had been his. A cruel master and...his father.

He was his spawn. His heir. His child.

That wasn't who he was anymore. He refused to be...All those bodies, all the blood, he would never be able to atone, but regardless, he was a different person entirely. Who he was before - it wasn't who he was now.

Yet he knew he would never be free of his Urge, not until he confronted the past...Orin was an abomination, mad and bloodthirsty. Even without his grudge against her, he knew he had to kill her. To end the Bhaal line with himself. By killing her, he could get her stone, and cut their father off from his plans with the elder brain. He killed Ketheric, and he would kill Orin. He would have all the stones in the palm of his hand. He'd be able to make things right.

'And Enver?' His mind whispered, and he couldn't remember when the mans first name become more familiar to his mind then his last, even with all memories of him being hidden to him or too fuzzy to be certain.

He didn't have an answer for the question, the implication, and that worried him more than anything; even more so when even the Urge did not beg for his bloodied body alongside Ketheric and Orin's.

[silverspleen]

Swapped my babygirl Gale out for Wyll. I love u Gale and your flirty personality but you kept rolling like shit. Wyll is soooo much more confident a roller and his Eldritch Blasts are the bomb, so it was a good choice. Why does he have that little slutty top on though. I'm not complaining or anything but like. Wyll. You're distracting me with your midriff, good sir. Wholesome guy though. I appreciate how both him and Karlach seem very mmmm open book after me desperately trying to tear secrets out of "oh I'll tell you later" Gale, "it's none of your fucking business" Shadowheart, and "I don't know what you're talking about leave it alone" Astarion.

Current tank is Karlach, I think I like her mechanically but we'll see. I did grow rather fond of Shadowheart and she's kind of a bitch in that way I'm fond of. Karlach is almost.... Too sweet? Like she's almost too nice? I keep making her sneak around and she doesn't deserve that. Lae'zel cracks me up and I like her as well but like Gale she is a camp companion now. I think she probably hates it.

Also the dog! Scratch!

ALSO LIKE. PEEPAW WITHERS??? HANGS OUT AT CAMP?????

Like broooo why is there a crusty old fancy skeleton here. Why is he so chill with me.