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littlejuicebox · 2 months

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A Pocket Full of Rainbows, A Star Up My Sleeve (1950s AU) / Chapter 1: The Drive In

Click here to read on AO3.

Summary: It's 1957, and for the first time in his life, Astarion Ancunin is happy. He's a newlywed, his spouse, Gustav Adler, is the editor-in-chief of the city's second most prominent newspaper, and they play keeping up with the Atherwindes next door. They are picture-perfect domesticity. Or so it seems. Secrets Astarion has kept hidden from his spouse begin to surface around their first anniversary, and Gustav is left to wonder... who exactly did he marry?

Tags/Warnings: This one starts off with smut (light BDSM if you squint and tilt your head) in Chapter 1 so there's that. This longfic will have a lot of hurt/angst/comfort + mild gore + mentions of Astarion's past trauma. I will update with a warning if there is a significant concern in any chapter.

Notes: Special thanks to @leomonae for beta-reading and holding my hand while I write this entire thing that has taken hold of me body and soul. And special thanks to all the awesome supportive people on my discord server that have hyped me up enough to give me the courage to post this.

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Cigar smoke spirals out of the barely cracked mahogany door and into the newsroom as the editor-in-chief, Gustav Adler, finalizes the layout for this weekend’s edition of the Baldur’s Herald. He’s running late — he should have been halfway home, by now. His wife is going to be furious with him if they miss the beginning of the movie.

But this story has a chance of finally getting the Baldur’s Herald ahead of the Baldur’s Gate Gazette; he has to get it just right. There is still more investigation to be done, of course, but no one can deny several missing persons and multiple eyewitness reports of a mindflayer in the lower city. It’s certainly enough to sell papers and promote intrigue.

The paper had gotten a decent boost when he’d been promoted to editor-in-chief a few years ago. The promotion of an openly gay man – a half-drow, nonetheless – to the position had garnered quite a bit of attention. Good and bad, of course. But as the saying goes, all publicity is good publicity.

In the Herald’s case, that had been true. The groundbreaking move had put the previously small paper on the map and quickly catapulted it to second place in the rankings, where it had been ever since. Tav was convinced it would only take one powerful story to overtake the Gazette; he felt confident the culmination of this story would be the one to do it.

A rapid knock on the door pulls Gustav from his work as he takes another drag of his nearly finished cigar; his top investigator, Karlach, is leaning against the door jamb.

“There’s been another mindflayer sighting. Dekarios is on the ground now, I’m on my way to meet him,” she says, her eyes alight with excitement. The tiefling had been chasing this story for weeks and finally had enough for her article to make the front page of this weekend’s issue.

“Excellent — I’ll be back in the office tomorrow morning, Kar. I expect an update then. I would go with you two, but the wife won’t forgive me if I cancel two weeks in a row,” Gustav responds as he extinguishes his cigar in the unfinished coffee that sat atop his desk all day.

Karlach chuckles good-naturedly as she straightens from the doorframe and moves to put on the suit jacket she’d been holding in her hand. “Tell Astarion I said hello; and thank him again for mending this for me.”

“Will do— oh, and Karlach, can you run this by the printers before you head out? It’s the final layout for the weekend edition,” the editor-in-chief says as he moves to exit his own office. He hands the mock-up to his journalist and heads out of the building for the night. In the parking lot, Gustav rushes to his car and hopes his wife isn’t too terribly upset with him for being a bit late.

Astarion had been Gustav’s secretary for nearly six months before he finally worked up the courage to ask the other man on a date. It was never easy for Tav, doing such a thing, although sexuality laws had changed in his early adulthood and it was common to see people just like him about the city nowadays.

He couldn’t have assumed Astarion was interested in men simply because he alternated between wearing suits and dresses – which had been, of course, one of the things that caught Tav’s attention and fascinated him early on. Astarion managed to look breathtaking in both; Gustav had never seen anything quite like him and spent more time than he should have admiring his secretary sitting just outside his office door. As it turned out, Astarion had been flirting with him for months; he had always worried he was misinterpreting the signals.

It wasn’t until Karlach hassled him for a week that Tav finally broke down and asked Astarion to dinner. They dated for just under a year, and married as soon as they were legally allowed – all legal documentation still required assigned roles of husband and wife, and in the public sense, these designations were required across the board. They’d randomly assigned titles with the flip of a coin.

It seemed ridiculous, in the beginning. Bureaucracy and politics could be so short-sighted; the world never seemed to dot all its i's and cross all its t’s before moving on to the next agenda. In public, the couple always used the assigned titles; at first, this had been mostly to avoid confusion or ignorant comments. But then one night, Gustav had jokingly called Astarion his “wife” and it had instantly ignited something within his lover. He’d never seen his spouse so excited in bed until that moment.

From then on, in public and in private, Astarion was his wife. The word just had different meanings depending on context. As an editor, Gustav could wholeheartedly appreciate the subtleties of the phrase; as a husband, he loved the effect the word had on his wife when they were in bed.

As Gustav pulls up to the brownstone townhouse he and Astarion share, he immediately notices the new gardenia shrubs and mulch surrounding the Atherwinde’s front stoop. A soft groan of annoyance escapes his lips; he’d planned to tend their own garden next weekend, but now he would have to move that project up. He was not about to let their annoying nextdoor neighbor, Edmund Atherwinde, throw subtle remarks at him for an entire week whenever they ran into one another while leaving for work. Gustav is almost certain Eddie waits to see when he comes out in the morning, just to harass him as they both climb into their Chevrolet Bel-Airs. Gustav’s is the most recent model; Eddie’s is last year’s model. Not that he’s comparing, of course.

He glances at his wristwatch; it’s twenty minutes past the time he was supposed to be home. They should still be able to eat dinner and make it to the drive-in. He grabs the bow-wrapped box from the backseat and then makes his way into the townhome.

A quick jangle of keys echoes through the short foyer before Gustav calls, “Astarion, I’m home!”

“You’re late,” a cool, clipped voice replies from the kitchen. “I’ve had to keep dinner warm in the oven for twenty minutes, Tav.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Gustav responds as he moves to join his wife. He presents the box to Astarion with a toothy smile and a wink. “But, perhaps this will make it up to you.”

The scowl that had been painted across Astarion’s face soon pulls up into a grin as he takes the box from Tav. A quick tug of the black grosgrain ribbon reveals the present inside – a mink stole. A soft gasp escapes Astarion as he removes the fur shawl from the packaging and wraps it around his shoulders.

“Gorgeous,” Gustav compliments as he admires his lover. “I think it will go well with the gown you plan on wearing for our anniversary dinner.”

“Of course it will, darling,” Astarion responds before lifting onto his toes and pressing a kiss against his husband’s cheek, right upon the old scar Gustav got back in his military days. “It’s beautiful, thank you. Now, dinner, dear– and we’d better hurry.”

Dinner was nothing to write home about. Astarion was a fair to middling cook nowadays – in the beginning of their marriage, he’d burnt nearly every meal he made. Almost a year later, he’d managed to get the hang of a few simple recipes. Gustav, to his credit, never complained. All his time in the military taught him to accept far meager offerings than his wife’s creations; if he could eat cold beans from an aluminum can, he could handle a slightly charred meatloaf.

They made it to the drive in just as the last previews finished. Astarion had been exceptionally excited to see this film – a horror movie about vampires, of all things. Gustav was not particularly interested in the movie, but willingly endured for his wife’s happiness. Until, of course, Astarion pressed up against him a little over halfway through the film – an innocent reaction to the scene playing on screen – and gripped dangerously high on Gustav’s thigh.

Desire immediately flared through Tav, and when he turned to look at his wife, he wanted nothing more than to smear the perfectly painted red lipstick on the other man’s lips. So he did.

They were locked in a passionate kiss for several minutes, the movie all but forgotten. Their tongues wrapped around one another in a familiar embrace, a comfortable dance the two of them had become accustomed to. It did not take long for Gustav to begin advancing eagerly upon his wife.

“You’re insatiable,” Astarion chuckles as his lover playfully nips into his neck. A delighted shiver ghosts up his spine.

“Can you blame me?” Gustav asks as his lips trail to his lover’s chest, just exposed by the neckline of Astarion’s collared dress. His tongue swirls along alabaster skin before a sly hand moves under the skirt hem. “You’re delicious… and I’d very much like to have a taste.”

Gustav’s thick, purple-gray fingers run along the inside of Astarion’s pale, muscled thigh and travel all the way up to the edge of a sheer, nylon stocking. He quickly finds a garter strap, pulls, and releases the elastic band. Astarion jumps and gasps as the skin on his leg turns into gooseflesh; his husband palms insistently between his legs.

“S-surely you don’t mean here, Tav,” Astarion whispers, his legs spreading slightly, making more room to accommodate the hand teasing his hardening cock. But even as Astarion says it, he’s hoping his husband actually does mean here – the mere thought of such a scandalous act is causing arousal to dampen the front of his undergarments.

“Mmh, and why not?” Gustav asks, already beginning to slide from his seat, down to the floorboard. He wanders his hand down under the seat and pushes it back as far as it will go. It isn’t much, but enough for him to comfortably kneel between Astarion’s legs. He brings his hands to his wife’s knees and slowly presses them open with a sly smile.

“I…” Astarion tries to respond, his face suddenly feeling quite hot as a blush of both embarrassment and desire spreads across his skin. His mouth goes dry as he looks down at the man between his legs. Gustav is slowly pushing up the hem of Astarion’s skirt and peering up at his lover as he licks his lips.

“Do you want me to stop?” He questions, cocking his head just slightly. When his wife doesn’t respond, he begins to lower Astarion’s skirt; his purple-gray hand is suddenly caught between slender, milky-white fingers.

“Keep going,” Astarion quietly urges before casting a glance out the window. They’re in the final row of the drive-in. Only one other car is in the same row as them, and the couple in that car are far too distracted by one another’s mouths to pay any mind to the two men.

Gustav hums happily as he unceremoniously lifts Astarion’s skirt and drops his head underneath; he’s greeted with a pale, leaking cock straining against a pair of sheer, silk panties. The sight causes his own cock to stir in his trousers.

“Now be a good little wife and hold very, very still for me, baby,” Gustav commands with a final snap of Astarion’s garter strap. His wife gasps and squirms in his seat before obediently stilling. Tav doesn’t waste any more time with foreplay; his hands come under Astarion’s dress and quickly tear the underwear in two – he’ll buy a replacement pair later. Astarion’s cock springs proudly from its confines, bobbing slightly and begging to be sucked.

Tav brings both hands to the pale thighs on either side of his head as he pulls Astarion’s cock into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the head languidly, causing more pre-fluid to leak onto his tongue. The salty, musky taste makes his mouth water in delight. He’s certain he will never tire of tasting his wife.

A whimper escapes Astarion’s lips when his husband takes all of his length. Gustav’s warm, wet throat contracts around Astarion’s cock and then, much too soon, he retracts and begins to swirl his tongue around its pink, swollen head. Tav repeats this several times and each time his throat squeezes around Astarion, it takes everything within him to not buck upwards. His thighs are trembling. He so badly wants to move, to seek the heat of his lover’s mouth. But he wants to be a good wife, so he forces himself to obey the command.

The excited keening becomes louder and more insistent the longer Gustav teases him. By now the movie is almost over, and Astarion is catching flashes of the end scene through blurred vision and panting breaths. He clamps his eyes shut as Gustav, once again, swallows him to the hilt. This time his husband holds the position and hums, both hands squeezing into Astarion’s thighs.

“Aah, Tav–” Astarion whimpers, his tone pleading, “Tav, please–”

But Gustav retracts and his wife whines. He cannot help but smile at the neediness. He forces Astarion’s skirt up over his thighs, exposing his arousal-slicked face and his lover’s hard, weeping cock all at once. He peers up at his wife with a pleased smirk; Astarion meets him with half-hooded lids and blown pupils.

“Already, baby? Really?” Gustav purrs, one hand coming to caress Astarion’s scrotum. He applies a light bit of pressure and admires the way pre-fluid dribbles from his lover’s desperate cock. His tongue darts out to slowly lap up the string of clear liquid running down Astarion’s shaft. “I don’t think I’ve worshiped my wife quite long enough.”

Astarion impatiently squirms in his seat. He’d been doing a rather excellent job holding still until now, but the ache between his legs is growing increasingly insistent, and his husband has teased him long enough. When Gustav’s hands wrap around his cock he moans and his head falls back reflexively. The movie’s end credits are starting to roll.

“Please, Gustav… I can’t– I can’t any longer, please–” Astarion begs, through sharp shaking breaths. His hips stutter forward insistently into the other man’s fists.

“Very well,” Gustav responds, and with little warning he drops his hands and takes all of Astarion in his mouth again. Pale fingers clutch into Tav’s cropped white hair, pulling slightly just at the nape of his neck. He hums his encouragement as he bobs his head up and down the length of his wife’s cock, covering it in saliva and spreading the growing amounts of pre-fluid dripping from its tip.

Gustav can tell by the breathy keening sounds his wife is making that he is close to release. His own cock is straining within his trousers – but that can wait until they get home. The first orgasm always leaves Astarion desperate for more, anyway.

Tav swallows Astarion’s length once again, intentionally contracting his throat around the pale cock in his mouth. His wife bites back a moan and comes, hips thrusting up as warm seed spills down Tav’s throat. Astarion’s cock continues to pulse for a while longer, and Tav expertly swallows every last drop of his lover’s spend.

When he feels the other man’s fingers retract from his hair, Gustav carefully pulls back and releases Astarion’s slowly softening cock. He swirls his tongue around the tip one last time, forcing a final whimper from his lover before easing back and placing a few kisses against Astarion’s thigh.

“Darling,” Astarion pants as he runs his fingers through sweat-drenched curls. His lipstick is completely smeared across his face; he looks wrecked. “Take me home and make love to me.”

Gustav grins in response as he begins to climb back into the driver’s seat. Many of the cars in the lot have pulled away by now. “Anything for my beautiful wife.”

They crash through the townhome door, a mess of half-removed clothing and desire. Astarion shoves Tav against the front entrance as soon as it shuts behind them and grinds himself along Tav’s thigh. The rotary phone in the living room is ringing, but they pay it no mind.

Gustav quickly undoes the buttons of his wife’s dress and strips it from his body. He’s entirely naked underneath, save the garter belt and stockings – the ruined bits of underwear were left on the floorboard of the car. Astarion is undoing his husband’s belt buckle when the phone stops ringing; he moves to drop to his knees right in front of Tav, but he is quickly pulled back up.

“Not here on the tile, baby. It’s much too hard,” he murmurs as he guides his wife over to the carpeted living room. As soon as they’re in front of the couch, Astarion rips Tav’s trousers and undergarments off in one swift motion and then guides his husband to sit on the serpentine sofa.

“Now, darling, let me repay you for earlier,” Astarion purrs as his hands teasingly slide up his lover’s purple thighs. He’s just about to take Gustav’s cock in his hands when the phone begins ringing again; it’s a sharp, shrill, distracting sound.

Gustav groans in irritation. He quickly leans over to pull the handset from the stand and uses a finger to hang up on the caller. He tosses the receiver haphazardly, leaving it off the hook so that the phone will not ring and interrupt him and his wife again. It’s well past ten at night; whoever is calling can wait until the morning and call back then.

He turns his attention back to Astarion and smiles. Then, he reaches out and brings two fingers under his wife’s chin before he gently presses upwards. They meet one another with a slow, gentle kiss. When Gustav retracts, Astarion is staring up at him in wide-eyed adoration.

“Now, where were we?” Gustav asks. Astarion chuckles in response before wrapping two pale hands around the cock in front of him; it’s already leaking in anticipation as he slowly strokes up and down the length.

“I think we were just getting to the good part, my love,” Astarion murmurs, peering up at his husband through hooded lids before dropping his head to take Gustav between a pair of lipstick-smeared lips.

The phone stays off the hook for the rest of the night.

#astarion fanfic #1950s au #baldurs gate au #astarion au #astarion 1950s #wifestarion #house wife astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x male oc #astarion x male tav #astarion angst #astarion fanfiction #astarion modern au #astarion smut #bg3 smut #smut #male/male

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linka-from-captain-planet · 9 days

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I have been in my mind palace, building my pretend Florrick-Ulder Buddy Cop dollhouse and filling it with my favorite things: drama, female background characters and crackships thereof, and elaborate Mad Libs stories cobbled together from vaguely-defined Lore. Also, a special guest star: Helia, the halfling werewolf character scrapped early in development

Brain dump below

as usual, Lore Mistakes are just part of the AU so I'm not worried about it

The first question is of course "when could it have been possible for Florrick and Ulder to Buddy Cop Adventure together?" Placing Ulder at about 55 years old as of 1492, if I wanted him to be about 20 during the adventure (a few years of "adult" life under his belt, but a Fist grunt still, yearning for a role model), that would take me back to 1457.

Florrick's age is less important to nail down, but according to my headcanon placing her around 125 years old in 1492, she'd be around 90 in 1457. I'm still workshopping exactly what I think her life course was in Baldur's Gate - my firm headcanon is that she was born and raised in the Forest of Tethir, and left as a young adult to pursue travel and magical education, but when exactly she ended up in the Gate and what exactly she was up between then and ~1480 is TBD. Regardless, by 1457, she's long since completed a wizardry apprenticeship, and having attained the rank of Flaming Fist Manip, she has young Ulder under her command.

Landing the timing in 1457 is convenient, because upon googling the historical events of Baldur's Gate, I found that there was as significant event around 1450: the attempted coup by Duke Valarken, in which he was supported by a group of lycanthropes in his attempt to overthrow the Council of Four and become sole leader of Baldur's Gate. Following this, the Parliament of Peers was formed and the office of Grand Duke, created. Certainly, the ensuing decade or so was a time of great turmoil as the dust settled - the perfect time for the dynamic duo and a friendship of a lifetime to form.

That timing and event is also convenient, because what other female background character am I in love with, whom I also lightly ship with my beloved Florrick?

Dalyria - according to her journal, once the Physician General to the Parliament. When exactly she was turned and enslaved by Cazador is unknown, but it must have been sometime after 1450 for her title to even exist. Which means she could certainly have "gone missing" in, say, 1457, and, say, leave a lover reeling and desperate for closure...

This setup is great because it gives Florrick and Ulder something to be buddy-cop about: a high-profile missing persons case, with perhaps more of a heart than Florrick wants to share with this kid, and a dynamic formative event for the young Ravengard.

With limited clues to go off of, the streets teeming with the big and little fishes of the city snapping up whatever scraps of power they can find, etc etc etc, obviously Florrick and Ulder would need companions in this quest.

So, who else could have been a) alive and b) active and c) potentially helpful and/or suspicious in Baldur's Gate in 1457?

Obviously Jaheira is always around for whatever bullshit is assailing the city she has, perhaps, only recently settled in permanently to take over an old family home and, perhaps, raise some orphans. Certainly, she'd answer the call to help her old uh *cough* friend Florrick in her time of need. Could the Bhaalists be back at it, aiming to pick off the parliament one by one? Not on Jaheira's watch!! At about 110 years old, Jaheira is also probably in her MILF prime at this point (before ascending to her GILF prime in BG3). Not relevant, just FYI.

On the 'suspicious' front, we have Araj Oblodra, eccentric apothecary of the Lower City. Living in exile since her House was cast into the Clawrift in 1358 (an event she was alive, but not present, for), perhaps Araj is unduly invested in finding the vampire coven physician general, and her alchemical skills as well as proficiency as a rogue are too compelling to pass on, sketchy as she is. I didn't get much farther than that, but she's sexy and I love her, so she gets to be a main character.

In my mind, the ideal "party size" would be 5, so who else? There are a few other options - Volo is certainly around somewhere and definitely not minding his business, Elminster must be lurking as usual, Abdel Adrian probably cares about this, etc - but I just didn't want any more elves or wizards. But wait, did I say lycanthropes were behind the failed coup?

You know who's a werewolf? Helia, the halfling bard orgin/companion scrapped early on in development. Listening to her datamined dialogue, she seems to have been a scrappy, no-nonsense kind of gal and an older lady in 1492, so a young woman in 1457. Pending more research on the context of werewolves/lycanthropes in the Forgotten Realms world, but perhaps she's been wrongly imprisoned since the failed coup. Perhaps, suspecting a second attempt by the same group could be behind the attack on the parliament, she's busted out of prison by a pair of enterprising young Fists, promising a chance to earn her freedom.

This will probably just remain a Concept, so I don't want to get myself bogged down in Plot, but there's really only one conclusion:

In the end, the investigators are thwarted by Cazador Szarr, who is too wealthy and powerful to convince the Parliament and Council to take on. The case of the missing Physician General is closed - ruled a suicide, likely, based on bunk evidence - and a broken-hearted Florrick and disheartened Ulder have no consolation except the friendship they've forged, and a promise to one another:

That, even if it takes half a century, they will work together to see Baldur's Gate to a more just future.

#also a 20 yr old Ulder stuck with all these insane women like 🧍 is so funny to me #work in progress and by work I mean brain concept that will prob not materialize beyond Posts and Drawings #counsellor florrick #ulder ravengard #jaheira #araj oblodra #bg3 helia #dalyria #bg3 #Florrick-Ulder Buddy Cop Thingy

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megidonitram · 3 months

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Everyone's Running From Something (ch. 4)

A Baldur's Gate 3 University Professor AU

Rating: M

Quick Summary: Astarion and Gale are two University English professors precariously mentoring a troubled 19-year-old and falling in love.

💖Main Pairing : BloodWeave,(Astarion/Gale) 💕Side Pairings: Shadowheart/Nocturne, Karlach/Dammon, Wyll/The Dark Urge, Tav/Tav 💔Past Pairings: Gale/Mystra, Astarion/Sebastian, Astarion/Tav

<=Previous Chapter | Master List | Ao3 | Next Chapter =>

**Please see Master List Entry for Full Content Warnings**

⏰Chapter Warning⏰ None

The all-hands meeting for the beginning of the semester went the same way every all-hands meeting at the beginning of semesters go. Every professor and TA in a humanities field got squeezed into a conference room that wasn’t quite big enough, had a powered sugar donut or a couple cubes of assorted melon with half a Styrofoam cup of burnt coffee, and listened to the departmental dean give an un-rousing speech about being on the same page with the other departments. Then he talked at nauseam about school policies and ran a quick training session over a new time-tracking software that would be implemented in 3 weeks’ time.

Gale scribbled down notes on a big yellow legal pad and tried to ignore Jen and Astarion, making faces at each other as he wrote. He’d been in academia long enough to know they’d both be crying to him in a few weeks when they messed up their timecards.

As the meeting drew to a close, a dapper man with slicked-back chestnut hair and a car salesman smile stepped into the room. Astarion went stiff like a cat puffing up to defend itself. The dapper man just gave him a plasticky, knowing smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

The dean perked up a bit as he noticed the man lingering in the back of the room. “Raphael, what a pleasant surprise! I had no idea you would be joining us,” he exclaimed, “We were just finishing up. Are there any words of wisdom you’d like to impart to our humanities faculty?”

“Oh, nothing so important,” Raphael said, and suddenly Gale understood why Astarion was so on edge. Everything about the man oozed with a disingenuous charm that made Gale’s hair stand on end. “I just realized I forgot to send out a notice about the upcoming donor gala the next coming Friday. I realized you were all in a meeting right now, so I thought I’d pop in and remind you in person.”

Raphael’s eyes landed directly on Astarion as he spoke his next sentence. “There is a reasonable expectation that faculty attend these events.” Out of the corner of his eye, Gale saw Astarion’s expression go steely. “After all, we want to show up and show out for the people who allow us to do so much.”

“Of Course!” The dean chirped. “I know I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The meeting adjourned, and Astarion immediately made a break for the door. Gale hurriedly gathered his things in one arm, instinctually following after the only person in the room he really knew, like a baby duck.

Raphael stepped into Astarion’s path before he could get out of the meeting room. “Ah, we meet again, Dr. Ancunín!” Raphael’s voice dripped with sugary contempt. “I will see you at the donor gala, won’t I?”

“Perhaps. Are you thinking about calling in that favor I owe you?” Astarion’s voice was clipped, his face unnervingly blank.

“I think I’d like to wait on that a little longer, but I would like you there in case I change my mind.” Before Astarion could respond, Raphael’s gaze slid off him and onto- “Dr. Dekarios! Wonderful to see you. Are you settling in well?” He reached out a hand to him.

Gale stuffed his legal pad into his work so he could shake Raphael’s hand. “Exceptionally well!” he replied. “Everyone’s done their utmost to make me feel very welcome!”

“Oh, you don’t have to fib on your new colleagues’ account, Dr. Dekarios. I’m more than familiar with how surly certain members of the English department can get.” Raphael laughed congenially, but Astarion shot him a poisonous look.

“I’m not lying to you, sir,” Gale replied. “Astarion’s been nothing but professional.”

“Well, perhaps he’s going a bit soft.” There was a flash of something dangerous behind his eyes. He turned to Astarion. “I shall see you next Friday.” It was a command more than a farewell, but he walked away all the same.

Astarion muttered under his breath. Gale didn’t catch what he said but could make an educated guess. Astarion exhaled a deep breath like he was equalizing pressure.

He turned to Gale and said, “Thank you.”

Gale blinked. “Of course.”

Astarion opened his mouth to say something else, but the words couldn’t or wouldn’t form.

Shadowheart stepped in between them, too concerned with responding to a text message to notice the weird tension. “Karlach wants to get drinks.” She said. “She got stuck in traffic and doesn’t want to drive all the way down here for nothing.”

“Roveer’s?” Astarion asked, a very weary resignation in his voice.

“Yes, probably.”

“Nothing like running into your students at a sports bar a week before classes start…” Astarion grumbled. “Fine. Let me finish here, and I’ll meet you there in, oh… 15 minutes.” He turned to Gale. “Are you coming?”

“To the office?”

Astarion gave him a perplexed look. “To the bar.” He clarified. “You should take the opportunity to meet Karlach.”

Gale could feel himself going bright red as Shadowheart snickered. “Right. Yes. I would love to.” He replied.

“I’ll let Karlach know you’re coming. She’ll be thrilled.” Shadowheart replied, giving Gale a warm smile. “I’ll go lock up. See you in a bit.”

“Come on then.” Astarion replied, nodding for Gale to follow him.

***

The all-hand meeting was on the third floor, so by the time they’d returned to the basement and back up a floor to leave, Gale was starting to fear his knees wouldn’t survive the week- let alone the semester. “There has to be an elevator in this building.” Gale huffed and puffed as he hoofed it up the last flight of stairs. He didn’t want his new colleague’s first impression of him to be of him on his hands and knees wheezing. “I can’t take much more of this…”

“There is, but personally I don’t like chancing it unless I really don’t want to be in a meeting.” Astarion slowed to a stop at the top of the stairs to wait for him. He didn’t seem any worse for wear, but he also seemed much trimmer than Gale was- or at the very least, his shirt accentuated the pleasing nip of his waist. Gale wondered if Astarion was a swimmer. “A history adjunct got stuck in it overnight a few years past, and it still reeks a little bit when it gets hot enough.”

Gale laughed, but Astarion very pointedly did not.

The conversation lulled a little bit.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Gale asked.

“That entirely depends on what you want to ask.” Astarion stepped into the hallway, taking a moment to slip into his grey wool peacoat before they ventured outside.

“Raphael, is he always…”

“Such an ass?” Astarion finished his thought. Gale wouldn’t have used such a strong word, but Astarion had gotten the spirit of the question right, at least. “He’s usually much worse.”

“Oh?”

“He’s a glorified middleman with too much power and time on his hands.” Astarion scoffed. “He enjoys putting things in people’s way and watching them try to wriggle their way out of problems he created. My advice is to deal with him as little as possible.”

“Is he who you went to talk to earlier?”

Astarion gave him a poisonous look that only confirmed Gale’s suspicion.

They walked across campus in uneasy silence. The bitterly cold wind whipped and whistled, tossing the last remnants of fall leaves across the concourse. The few student residents who’d gotten in that morning had either decided to hold up in their rooms or were enjoying their free time in more exciting corners of town. Gale found himself wondering what Xenia was doing... He hoped she wasn’t all alone in an empty dorm.

“Does Xenia have many friends?” Gale asked as they approached a crosswalk leading to the block of shops across from campus.

“Hm?” Astarion tapped the pedestrian-call button, which commanded them to ‘wait!’ in a mechanical voice. “I think she probably has more friends than she realizes she does. Kids like her tend to think they’re alone in everything.”

“Poor kid… Seems like she’s been through enough.” Gale sighed. There was something heartbreaking in the phrase ‘kids like her.’ It was sad to think that there were more 19-year-olds out there carrying emotional burdens far too heavy for their age- sadder still to think that if there weren’t, then Xenia would be alone.

“She’ll figure herself out eventually. She’s not like…” Astarion paused, seemingly a little shocked by what he was about to say. He leveled a wary glance at Gale. “She’s not a quitter, I mean.”

“I’m sure she’s not. I just hope she doesn’t run herself ragged.” The walk light flashed, and they hurried across the street.

***

They were comedically out of place in Roveer’s Roadhouse. A group of grown adults in Oxford dress crowding around a sticky Bud-Lit branded high top surrounded by a bevy of flatscreen monitors playing every sports broadcast under the sun. Shadowheart was already nursing a syrupy cocktail out of a chipped margarita glass.

An extremely tall woman with a red tipped mohawk and smiling eyes bounded over to Gale and clapped a firmly friendly hand on his shoulder. “You’re the new Adjunct, I take it?” She asked. “I’m Karlach, Professor Cliffgate, if you’re nasty.”

“Gale Dekarios.” He reached out to shake her hand. She fist-bumped him instead, and Gale got a glimpse of a nasty burn scar peeking out from the sleeve of her jacket. “It’s a pleasure!”

“Aw, I have a great-aunt named Gale!” Karlach replied.

“I get that a lot…” Gale sighed. “I like your hair!”

“Thanks!” Karlach tussled her own hair. “Told my kiddos they could pick what color I dyed it if they all passed their benchmarks.”

“Does Balduran give benchmarks?”

“Oh, no. Teaching university is my side gig,” Karlach replied. “I’m actually a full-time middle school teacher.”

A spindly girl with bleach-blonde hair pulled into space buns sidled up to the table, clutching a notepad. “Can I take your order?” She seemed quite put upon being asked to do actual work on a slow day.

“Vodka Soda,” Astarion replied, holding his ID out to the server.

She took it and dropped it in her apron, jotted something down on her notepad, and turned to Gale with an expectant look.

“I’ll, uh, take a Corona,” Gale replied. He’d never ordered a Corona in his life, but it seemed like an acceptable ‘getting drinks with colleagues’ kind of an order.

The server stood there staring at him a moment long before she asked, “ID?”

“Oh, um…” Gale patted for his wallet and realized he left it in his desk drawer. “I didn’t realize I would need it…”

“You didn’t realize you’d need an ID at a college bar?” Astarion asked dryly as he turned to the server. “Just put it on my tab.”

The server nodded and walked away without asking if they needed anything else.

“Wow Gale, just one day on the job, and you’re already bumming free drinks off the department chair.” Shadowheart teased. She took a sip of her drink crinkling her nose at the taste.

Gale flustered. “I-I was going to pay with my phone, I swear! I wasn’t planning this.”

“Relax. We’re not so underpaid that I can’t afford to buy you one beer.” Astarion rolled his eyes. “You can return the favor when you get your first paycheck.”

Gale blushed. “Alright.”

The server brought them their drinks without another word, then plopped down at the end of the bar to scroll on her phone. Gale pushed the lime through the neck of his beer bottle and watched it fizz as it sank to the bottom of the dubiously golden liquid.

“So, did I miss anything important at the all-hands?” Karlach asked idly, stirring her bourbon and coke.

“You know you didn’t,” Shadowheart replied. “We’re changing timecard systems, and Raphael and Astarion are in another one of their weird power struggles-there, I saved you an hour and a half.”

Karlach’s eyes lit up, and she turned towards Astarion. “Before the semester even starts?” There was a conspiratorial glee in her voice. “What the fuck could he have possibly done this time?”

“Why spoil the mood by ruminating on that rat bastard?” Astarion said. He picked the lemon slice out of his drink and laid it on a napkin. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Fair.” Karlach shrugged. She turned back to Gale and fixed him with a warm smile. “So, Gale, what brings you to the wonderful world of higher education?”

Gale had thought a lot about what he would tell people when they asked him why he wanted to teach college. He’d written little speeches in the shower about the joys of teaching language and the satisfaction of helping students reach their goal, but sitting in a group of other English professors, that suddenly all felt very trite.

“I was a public librarian, but I had to step away from my last position when I got divorced.” He admitted. “I found a job at a community college teaching database management, and I realized I’d just always missed teaching.” He took a long pull of his beer. The sour of the lime battled with the bitterness of the beer on his tongue.

“Library science might be a harder industry to break into than academia. It must have been tough to leave that behind.” Astarion mused.

“I do miss it terribly sometimes… but my ex helped me get into graduate school and got me my first library job. If I stayed, I would never be able to make anything that was truly mine.” Gale sighed. He could see the wheels spinning in Shadowheart’s head as she tried to figure out his age.

“You talk like you’re as old as this bag of bone,” Karlach pointed a thumb at Astarion, who glared daggers at her. “But there’s no way you’re that old.”

“I’m 35.” Gale clarified.

“That’s a little bit older than I thought, but still nowhere near as old as Astarion,” Shadowheart said.

“You are barely two years younger than me.” Astarion snapped.

“Barely a decade older than Gale, too.” Shadowheart shot back.

Astarion rolled his eyes and muttered something into his drink. “Did you go to get your master’s straight out of undergrad?” he asked.

“Yes, why?”

Astarion shrugged. “That’s just quite young to be with someone that well-established in their field.”

“Oh, we didn’t get together until I graduated.” That wasn’t entirely true. They didn’t get together publicly until he graduated. He didn’t know why he was still defending Mystra. It wasn’t like any of his new colleagues would ever meet her.

“I wasn’t trying to imply anything…” Astarion lied.

“Of course not.”

They both took a sip of their drink, holding awkward eye contact.

“Well, here’s to making something for yourself then,” Shadowheart said, holding her drink out to Gale for a cheers.

Gale clinked the neck of his beer bottle against her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

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100beesinatrenchcoat · 2 months

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Good Omens/Bg3 crossover

Okay so I will eventually make art of this, but you gotta wait longer for that because im picky about the art I post HOWEVER COMMA I will supply you with my ideas for right now. Also! Feel free to send any asks about this little au im making, I'll totally answer any questions about it. Lets start with the stars of the show. GALE/AZIRAPHALE (who I will only be referring to as Gale for sake of ease right now. Maybe I'll think of something more interesting later) While Mystra is not the only god in this universe, she is the one that is most important to gale, as he is one of her personal angels. Something of a celestial being in official dnd terms. This is the after life he was given after a lifetime spent being a priest in Mystra's church. It is Gale's soul mission to do whatever he can to please his goddess, as she has promised him great things (the specifics of which are unknown to Gale) if he did her work down in the mortal plane of Faerun. This mostly involves solving magical imbalances and destroying forms of magic that are separate from Mystra's weave (the kind of things bg3 gale did as Mystra's chosen) The orb, in this case, Isn't a product of Gale's folly but rather a sort of shock collar that Mystra placed onto him. Most of the time, it lies dormant. An ever lasting reminder of Mystra's eyes on him. Should he ever deny Mystra's will, or fail to complete a task to the best of his abilities, the orb will cause an excruciating pain for him, that cannot be quelled unless he consumes artifacts or objects threaded with the weave. Reminding him that he is Mystra's pawn, she is the reason he exists as the celestial being he is now, rather than being cast down to the hells after death. ASTARION/CROWLEY (same thing about the name as with Gale.. I'll be more creative later) Astarion is a strange mixture of undead and infernal, caused by contract. While once a wealthy magistrate high elf, then turned vampire, he spent his time as a spawn praying to any god in the pantheon he thought might hear his plea for freedom or guidance, even the goblin god Maglubiyet, at some point. However not a single one heard his plea. His undead status enough to cut him off from the celestial plane, apparently. But not enough to cut him off from the hells. One night, when sneaking off under Cazador Szarr's orders, he was approached by a demon in disguise in the alleyways of baldurs gate. The demon had saw his suffering as Cazador's spawn, and his potential for lethality and general mischief, and offered a deal. He swore to Astarion that he would protect him from Cazador, and give him the ability to walk in the sun, if Astarion agreed to cause general havoc across Faerun and occasionally act as assassin for other clients of the infernal. Astarion, desperate for freedom from his vampiric master, reluctantly agreed. Most of the mischief he causes throughout Faerun are either direct "fuck you's" to the gods and the things they stand for, as the infernal generally have a good deal of beef with the celestial. (Which Astarion doesn't mind doing, as every god in the pantheon ignored his desperate cries for help,) and simple assassinations according to his infernal patron, deal breakers and pact defying warlocks mostly.

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crownedinmarigolds · 3 months

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Welcome to my art/hobby/fandom/etc blog! My name is Kelsey, CrownedinMarigolds on Tumblr, and I've been on this website since 2012? Yep I'm an ancient being. If you're interested in supporting me or giving me a little tip for doin' what I do, here is my KO-FI! Zero pressure of course.

My favorite subjects to draw are primarily OC based, and the sandbox I play in is usually Vampire the Masquerade/World of Darkness! But of course I love all manner of TTRPG. While I have things I like consistently, I will reblog and talk about all kinds of different things that may be out of left field! This is my mish-mash blog, just be warned! I'd also like to shout out my true love, my muse, my baby-daddy: @thesixthplaneteer. He's a very talented writer and a lot of my work and his work are intrinsically tied together! Most of my OCs are drawn with his and his work provides some context for all the fun things I draw for us!

My art commissions are: officially closed so that I may spend time with my family for the summer!

My quick-sketch commissions are always open! These will close officially in the month of June as I will be out of town.

If you're interested in commissioning me, please see my commission information here! Here are examples of my work//my art tag in case you'd like to get a feel of my art style before making a decision. I love a messy and painterly style so please understand that before reaching out!

Here is how I usually schedule my time when I'm working on commissions, in case you were interested!

OC Directory beneath the cut, just felt like making it!

My OCs:

Noa Hidalgo-Giovanni - my main OC, my Giovanni/Hecata necromancer! I will probably draw her across multiple AUs/fandoms so don't be surprised to see her.

Khloe Osborne - my current VTM/V5 PC in my husband's chronicle, The Poisoned Peach, ATL by Night! She is a Ventrue Thinblood, in a coterie with three other Thinbloods as they try to stop the Atlanta Camarilla from enslaving the local Thinblood populace! I also like to put her in Baldur's Gate 3 art too.

Parvati - another favorite character of mine. She was originally my first real Pathfinder PC that I played for a long time. I also started writing a book about her titled Crowned in Marigolds, sort of based on the Pathfinder world she had been placed in. She is now my Vampire the Masquerade Ravnos Elder who is in the Ministry/Followers of Set!

thesixthplaneteer's OCs (the OCs I treat like mine but are actually not!)

Dr. Nythanel Loken PhD- Elder Thinblood, the Thriceborn! The big favorite and Noa's other half. Cute and full of the audacity!

Ralph - The perfect man - a Thinblood that got cursed with the Nosferatu bane (lite). He's Khloe's boyfriend in my current Chronicle. Former Spec Ops but Embraced out of spite because he was hot. (Did NOT go well for the sire!)

Stakebait Coterie - The group Ralph and Khloe are a part of which also includes Christian and Kyle! The four best friends that anyone could have!!

#crownedinmarigolds #personal #pinned post 2 - updated 03.09.24 #information post #about the blogger #about me #oc directory

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lovelybrooke · 3 months

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Who are the platonic and the romantic Yanderes in the isekaied baldur's gate fic? And would the dynamics be different if tav the player (not the reader) was with the group

So in this case, whether or not they are romantic or platonic is going to be left up to the reader, since I don't really have a preference for either.

Regarding Tav, I didn't intent to make them apart of the au. In my head, the au is less of reader getting Isekaied into a game and more so reader getting Isekaied into a different universe, if that makes sense. Tav would just be too hard to write for in my opinion, since for the most part Tav is always just a player/reader insert.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate 3

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hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog · 4 months

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For something more fluffy and funny

Imagine the AUs playing fucking DnD with Husk as the DM (because he was around the time DND got invented and I can see Husk being a good DM).

There is also a rule that there can only be ONE (maybe two depending on how big the party size is ) bard because Husk knows if that rule doesnt exist he's gonna have so many vicious mockery rolls its gonna give him a headache.

As for classes, now this is just me assigning peeps classes based on vibes and if they would play or not. If people have their own suggestions, please do share owo. (also please note I am baby DND noob, so most of info is coming from Baldur's Gate 3's wiki)

Canon Alastor-Bard, that is if anyone can get him to play and make him promise not to do something insane like teleport them into the world of DnD. (College of Lore branch). Sidenote: he only got bard because of that one animation where Alastor cats vicious mockery just insult Lucifer's height wheeeze. also because if you told al could hurt people with magical insults, he would go for it let's be honest.

Canon Vox-Artificer, since it seems up his ally but again this is a case of, can you get him to play it, probably more willing than canon Al, but would also rage quit if he fails dice rolls. (Artillerist branch)

Swap Alastor-He gives Cleric vibes. Probably more willing, but you would have to walk him through stuff. Probably ends up the team mom against his will. (Life Domain branch)

Swap Vox-Torn between Fighter or Paladin, leaning more towards Fighter. Probably not so willing, but would if his Alastor was. Would probably leave others for dead. (Champion Branch for Fighter, maybe Oath of Devotion branch for Paladin).

Secretly Married Alastor-Rogue, like Canon, would need to be talked into it, but may lean towards more willing just to humor it. Takes a lot of the notes and rolling the highest perception checks (Arcane trickster branch)

Secretly Married Vox-Sorcerer, like his partner, doing it to humor it (and also because sorcerer class sounded cool to him). Is hyping up his Al and somehow skating by on his rolls (example if the roll success require is like 15, he barley just makes it with the help of his modifiers). Also storm sorcery branch

Dadstatiocradio Alastor-Bard, because he does not trust his canon part to not pick fights with vicious mockery. May know more about the game thanks to his Charlie or not, who knows, but is the most willing to join in I say. (College of Valour branch).

Dadstaticradio Vox-Okay this one is hard, but like, he gives Enchantment branch wizard vibes tbh. Maybe just me tho. Also the most willing. Would threaten to cast fireball to make everyone shut up.

Radio Guard Alastor-Torn between Bloodhunter and warlock (Fiend branch because haha get it his deal with Lucifer). Probably legit only joined because Husk needed another sane player and or he was bored and was just "Fuck it". Is the one who takes it a bit more seriously and trying to gather the most information.

Radio Guard Vox-Ranger, because he thought it would be fun. Like Dadstaticradios, he is the most willing to join. Prides himself on headshots when he can get them in campaigns. ( Hunter branch maybe).

Blueberry-Warlock, really only joins after some convincing (and the promise of canon Alastor will be nice to him). The running joke and just confirmed campaign canon is Husk is Blueberry's patron who helps guide him around. (Husk Patron branch /j, Archfey tech).

Highschool Al and Vox are Dms with Husk since idk what they would be tbh.

May do a part 2 since this just,,,Vox and Als hfkdsjf

-⚔️ anon

I know the vicious mockery animation you're talking about it KILLS me I love it

I know very little about DnD as much as I want to learn but I love all of this so much, the overwhelming amount of AUs we have gathered makes for so much chaotic content when they're grouped together. You're so creative w these ideas

#ask #⚔️ anon #au crossovers

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captastra · 9 months

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+ Music Monday Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @kyber-infinitygems @marivenah @jillvalentinesday and @madparadoxum <3!! The first snippet for my BG3 victorian au Belle Danse Macabre!

It wasn’t until she was on the road that Everlith read the note and for that she was grateful. The message was brief and straight to the point, but the initials at the bottom of the letter made her blood run cold and she would have needed to sit if she had still been back at the inn. She also would have recognized the handwriting, no matter how many years had passed since she had seen it. On first glance, nothing would have been amiss to any bystander that may have glanced at the note. Certainly the clerk wouldn’t have seen anything wrong with it, a simple greeting and welcome home that any lay person could have been happy to receive. How Everlith wished that was the case. She had half a mind throughout the whole trip to Baldur’s Gate to through the letter out the window and rid herself of its presence, but even she knew that would be folly. No amount of pretending it hadn’t been read and acknowledged would erase what it meant. Something was going on, and someone that should have been long dead knew she was returning home.

And the song that I always listen to while writing this fic!

No pressure tags: @kourumi @poetikat @confidentandgood @theelderhazelnut @shegetsburned @spaceratprodigy @darkfire1177 @euryalex @awhellstothejoe @gayafsatan @bearcina @olliesaurus-rex @poisonedtruth @isobel-thorm @bitchesofostwick @incognito-insomniac @beautiful-delirium @valiantvillain @adelaidedrubman @perhapsrampancy @mxanigel @leviiackrman @eclecticwildflowers @aceghosts @the-grand-king-queen @mybookswerealltome @roofgeese @thisisrigged4 @clonesupport @galaxycunt @kabals-nose-scrunch (and anyone else who has something they want to share :D)

#wip wednesday #music monday #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 au #oc: everlith s'aer #Spotify

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bluegekk0 · 4 months

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In a modern au, what would be the most they could stomach in a video game? like from a 1 to Postal 2 scale

Hmm. I think it depends on what exactly we're talking about. I'm assuming you're talking about violence here so I'll start with that, but I think discussing other categories for ratings would be fun. Sexual content and horror elements would probably be the two other main ones.

Putting under a read more, I don't go into much detail about any of these but hey, it's pretty long anyway so may as well do that, in case you don't want it out in the open on your feed haha

Violence/blood/gore:

FPK - while he doesn't mind gore itself (we're talking about a guy who eats animals raw in the main AU, after all), I think he would be very squeamish about something like torture, or mass violence. He would be fine with survival games though, since in those you usually commit violence to survive or in self-defense. He's definitely the type to be nice to NPCs in games, he wouldn't want to kill them for no reason. So it really depends on the situation, but if we're talking Postal 2 like violence then he wouldn't like it.

Grimm - he's far more comfortable with violence, he's not opposed to killing others (at least in the main AU) and with video games the barrier between reality and fiction would make him even more indifferent to it. That's where he stands, I think, he wouldn't usually go on mass NPC killings, especially if FPK was watching him play, but he wouldn't be opposed to very brutal scenarios. He can stomach it just fine.

Hornet - she's the type to take her anger out on video game characters so she'd be perfectly fine with shooting random pedestrians in GTA or even playing Postal 2 and pushing it to the extreme. She's desensitized to violence and gore as long as it's in a video game, in real life she's a bit more squeamish about it (especially if she's placed in a situation where she has to treat someone's wounds, she'll handle it but she would have to look away in the worst moments).

Holly - they don't like blood, gore and violence, so they would avoid it altogether if playing video games. While blood itself is usually fine (after all, they don't mind seeing blood on FPK or Grimm's mouth/clothes in the main AU), they avoid any kind of violence. They're the type to play Stardew Valley, or sit and tend to their farm in Minecraft, leaving combat to the others. So not counting the kids, they're the most squeamish about video game violence.

Zote - he's somewhere in the middle, closer to squeamish, he's fine with killing NPCs but if it gets too violent he has to look away (but only if no one is looking at him). He'll claim that he can handle anything and then run out of the room to puke if the game gets really intense.

Lewk, Asta and Milo - too young for violent games. They often watch the others play, but only those games that are suitable to them. Asta and Milo are too young to really know what's happening, but Grimm and FPK still won't let them look at violent stuff. Same for Lewk, except he's a lot more aware so his dads are even more careful to make sure he doesn't see something he shouldn't.

---

Sexual content

FPK - while he does have an active intimate life with Grimm, he's not the biggest fan of sex or nudity in video games. He would definitely instinctively look away, and if a game has an option to disable it, he always chooses it.

Grimm - 100% has a save file for every romance option in Baldur's Gate 3. As mentioned prior, he can separate fiction from reality - it's a video game, he'd never cheat on FPK. But I think he'd do it more out of curiosity than for any other reason. Also he'd most definitely critique terrible sex scenes in games hahah.

Hornet - she's fine with it, though if there's an option to skip it she will usually do it.

Holly, Zote - they both dislike it and will avoid games that have it.

---

Horror elements

FPK - very sensitive to it, avoids horror games like fire. He hates jumpscares and the feeling of dread or terror, so he would not have fun playing a horror game.

Grimm - he loves horror, it's incredibly hard for any media to scare him. Makes sense, he's the god of nightmares, the only time he's going to be terrified is if one of his loved ones gets hurt.

Hornet - she enjoys horror, she'll get jumpscared sometimes and get angry about it, but she does like playing scary games for the thrill.

Holly - they don't play horror games, but they would be able to handle them pretty decently (except for those that lean into violent horror). They have pretty much no reaction to jumpscares, they also handle tense scenes quite well.

Zote - screams at every single jumpscare and then acts like he was just pretending. Classic Zote move

Lewk - surprisingly brave about spooky things, though of course he doesn't get to watch violent scary games, for the reasons stated above.

Asta and Milo - even if Asta is the braver than Milo, the two would still get really scared at loud noises and images, and start crying (which would sound more like quiet sad meows).

#ask stuff #feral pk au #modern fpk au #fpk #grimm #hornet #holly #zote #lewk #asta #milo

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namig42 · 23 days

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Hello there, I finally finished the first part of a Wyllstarion fic I started writing ages ago. Please enjoy.

Just One Yesterday (Ch. 1)

Read it on Ao3 as well!

Summary: Originally inspired by the lyric "anything you say can and will be held against you, so only say my name. It will be held against you," from Fall Out Boy's song "Just One Yesterday."

This is a modern AU where Wyll is a police officer and Astarion is a sex worker. Despite a problematic start, the two manage to find a connection and have it build in time into something more.

---

Wyll Ravengard was a young rookie on the police force of Baldur City. He's been working the scene for a few years now, but has yet to feel like he has made any real difference. Part of that is due to his chief, Mizora, who makes a point of sending Wyll to do all the more unsavory jobs that are passed down directly from her own boss, Zariel. Early on in his time on the force, Wyll was optimistic and very loyal to the people of the city. Mizora saw this and used it against Wyll, leading him down a dark path of less than legal actions that Wyll now cannot afford anyone knowing. In exchange for her silence, Mizora has now made Wyll her personal pet. She sends him on secret missions to chase down certain felons, detain criminals of seemingly victimless crimes, and on one occasion, even taking the life of someone before things could get out of hand with a case. Wyll detests his career now because of Mizora, but if he stepped out of her shadow, the things that he's done would solely be on his head and he would be seen as the villain, not the hero. For now, he grins and bears his duty, telling himself that at least he can still help people while also serving Mizora’s means.

On this evening in particular, Wyll was sent on a mission to detain some of the countless streetwalkers that have been reported downtown. One too many problematic incidents have taken place with some higher ups in the city, and Zariel has decided that the field needed to be weeded out. Mizora had left this job to Wyll, deeming it unfit for the rest of the force to be seen doing these jobs since it would bring awareness to the drama happening with those problematic higher ups she was supposed to be protecting. Wyll was expected to go undercover for this case and arrest anyone who approached him offering a service without making a scene.

And that is exactly what he planned for, though he already felt a wave of guilt and anxiety at the notion that he needed to allow himself to be seduced and lured. When it came to exploits of lust and love, Wyll was a traditional romantic. He was genuine and authentic and wasn’t interested in acts solely of the flesh. Whether Mizora knew that and decided she wanted to watch Wyll suffer or not or was simply unaware, Wyll still had to deliver on the mission. One step at a time , he thought to himself as he made his way downtown for the evening.

Wyll was dressed in some worn jeans and a burgundy henley that he'd owned since his teenage years. It was an old shirt that was a little tight now, but it still got the job done. He looked like a regular guy out for a late night stroll near the downtown park, as if he was on his way to a bar to meet some friends or play some pool. Just a normal person. That’s all he had to be for now, but Wyll knew that he was anything but a normal guy with casual plans, and it made the guilt surge through his body all the more, leaving his hands clammy and his mouth dry.

His intel had told him that this park was a common spot for a certain gang that was known for its promiscuous services. They were a group of beautiful, pale people that often stalked in groups of two or three, luring people away with their charm and promises of a good time according to the reports. Sometimes the victims came back with empty wallets, but more often, they were never seen again. If Wyll walked around enough, he was likely to find a target or two to detain.

Wyll was feeling nervous about this whole endeavor. He hadn't ever had a job like this before, and he wasn't known for being the best liar. Omitting information, sure, that was understandable, but pure deception? That was something he was afraid of screwing up immediately. He had never had a knack for it, and his father taught him that honesty was the truest way to justice. He had hammered that notion into his son, leaving Wyll without the skillset he needed for this scenario. Wyll knew how much his father would disapprove of him these past few years, but he couldn’t bear to tell his father the truth. His father, Uldur Ravengaurd, the pinnacle example of honor and justice, would arrest his own son on the spot if he knew the terrible things Wyll had done for Mizora, even if Wyll has always tried to mean well and do these heinous jobs on his own terms.

It was as he was thinking about his father and the dread that filled his stomach that Wyll spotted a group of three people standing in the main square of the park, leaning on a fountain and surrounded by street lamps emitting a soft white glow. There were two women and one man, and they were all extremely attractive and fair-skinned. All three were dressed in attire that seemed more fitting for a nightclub rather than a night in the park, fitted with tight pants that left little to the imagination, skin tight tops, and their hair pulled away from their faces. Both women had their hair pulled back in a bun with lips painted ruby red, and the man’s curly hair was short and sculpted to frame his handsome face.

He was still feeling nervous, so instead of approaching the group, Wyll leaned himself against a nearby fence and glanced at the group every now and then. He noticed that the group of three began to stare back and began whispering amongst themselves. Wyll looked down at the ground and tried to calm his nerves as he felt the eyes of the beautiful strangers piercing him. After a moment of pointing and the small sound of soft voices, the handsome man with white, curly locks approached him.

"Well hello there darling~." The man approached Wyll from the side and casually leaned against the fence. His voice was low and dripped with sex. Wyll had to swallow before looking into the man's red eyes. "Whatever is a dashing thing like you doing in a place like this~?"

"Just out for a late night stroll.” Wyll choked out, sounding fine enough but feeling somehow even more nervous under the predatory gaze of this handsome stranger. “Lovely night, isn't it?" Wyll looked up and gestured to the full moon that sat directly above the two of them. Wyll hadn't noticed it before, but now that he saw the pale glow of moonlight, he realized the color was very similar to the man's hair. It was a lovely color… Wyll began to wonder if the stranger’s hair was naturally that silver.

"A lovely night indeed," the man said, his eyes not moving from Wyll’s face. "What's to say we make it an even better one?"

Wyll made eye contact again before asking, "what do you mean?" He had a feeling he knew, but he didn't want to mess this up and blow his cover so quickly.

"I know a charming little spot not too far from here. Perhaps we could steal away for a bit and… get to enjoy each other's company?" As he spoke those last words, the man's fingers gently grazed the back of Wyll's hand. Wyll wanted to recoil as if he had been electrocuted, but he resisted the urge. This was definitely a target he was supposed to take back to the station. He needed to get this beautiful man alone first, that way the other two in his group wouldn't immediately be on high alert.

Though he was tense, Wyll managed a soft, polite smile. "Lead the way."

The man with the hair like moonlight smiled devilishly before gently taking Wyll's hand and leading him deeper into the park. As they walked in the night air, Wyll got a better look at the man he was about to arrest. They were about the same height, though Wyll's frame looked a bit stronger and more filled out than his newfound companion. The other man was a bit thin and gaunt, as if he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in a while. His skin was almost as pale as his hair, and his eyes were a bright red. Wyll wondered if they were contacts. The silver-haired man wore tight leather pants and a leather jacket with only a top made of fishnets underneath. His nails were painted black, though they looked a bit chipped, almost as if they had been bitten slightly. Wyll looked at the back of the stranger’s head and saw just how soft the man’s curls looked. The front of the man’s hair had looked polished and styled, though the back looked as if the curls had been left in their natural state.

Wyll pondered this mysterious man, but quickly tried to block out the thoughts. He couldn't let himself get distracted or attached. The more he humanized his target, the harder it would be to do his job. A job like this was hard for Wyll to justify for himself already. After all, sex workers weren't offering any services that harmed others. Though it isn't the most honorable line of work, he didn't think that they deserved to be arrested for providing the services they did, especially if they were being pressured by a boss of their own. Wyll could relate a bit with his own predicament, but he shoved that thought right out just as fast as it came into his mind. If he felt himself relating to a hypothetical, he’d have an even harder time following through on the job he was supposed to do. It didn't matter though what he thought in all of this. Mizora told him to do his job, and so his job had to be done. If not… it may not even be worth going back to the station.

After a few moments of strolling in silence, the man led Wyll through a shrub and entered a small clearing near the edge of the park where a little shack was stowed away. It didn't look like more than a storage shed, but that didn't seem to matter. The mysterious stranger led Wyll with that same gentle grip through the door and into the small building. Inside was a bit dusty and barren, save for a few large crates in one corner and a mattress on the ground on the other side of the space. A bit of the pale moonlight seeped into the room from the small windows that lined the tops of the walls along with the remnant glows from nearby street lights, just like the ones back in the main square. Besides that, the room was quite dim.

"Well now, we should introduce ourselves properly before getting down to business, hm~?” The stranger dropped Wyll’s hand and turned to face his client. With a dramatic flourish of one hand and the other on his hip, he introduced himself. “My name is Astarion."

Astarion, little star. A lovely name fit for a gentleman of the night. Gods, it rolled off the tongue so well. Was that his real name, or one he simply used for this line of work? Either way, it was beautiful.

Wyll was still a bit frazzled as Astarion stared at him with that hand on his hip. He leaned to the side so casually and gracefully, as if he was posing for a piece of art. It was incredibly alluring. Wyll could feel himself falling into the trap that he was sure many others did as well at the hands of this mysterious man. Astarion gestured to him with a relaxed flourish and asked, "what should I call you, darling?"

The way he spoke was like music. He was so captivating, Wyll lost himself almost entirely for a moment, wanting to drop the mission and be engulfed by this stranger of the night. He had a false name that he had planned to utilize for this mission, but before he could even think about it, his mind slipped and he simply said, "Wyll."

"Wyll," Astarion said in that theatrical tone of his. Wyll took a small gulp after hearing his name on Astarion’s lips. "A fitting name for a proper gentleman." Astarion began to step a little closer to Wyll. Wyll took a step back, but after only one step, he felt his back press against the cold brick wall behind him. "It's funny, most people are upon me before we even reach this spot. I appreciate someone with manners and decency. No need to be afraid though…" Astarion began to enter Wyll's space even more, trailing a finger up Wyll’s chest, then his neck, and then his jawline. Wyll could feel the other man's cool breath on his face as the mysterious man leaned in a bit closer. Just as Wyll tightly shut his eyes and thought he was about to be kissed, Astarion leaned into Wyll's ear instead and whispered seductively, "I won't bite."

Wyll had never been with anyone in this capacity before. Yes, he had had sex. He was a young man in his mid 20’s, after all, but that was less about sex and more about making love. There were the few girls he dated seriously in his past and a couple handsome men he fancied, though never approached or engaged with. The women were all lovely at first, but the sex had been mediocre at best. Eventually, they all left Wyll because apparently he wasn’t exciting enough for them. Everyone loved a hopeless romantic until the novelty of chivalry wore off, and they ended up bored and uninterested. They loved the fantasy it seemed, not Wyll Ravenguard. In regards to men, Wyll had never allowed himself to pursue another man before. The culture he grew up in didn’t shame the idea of homosexuality, but Wyll had this feeling that if he didn’t do things traditionally, then his father would’ve resented him, but that was a tale for another time.

The point was that in all his escapades, nothing had ever been like this. All his other experiences had been so tame, so simple and focused on romance with people Wyll had tried to establish a connection with. Already though, just the way Astarion moved and spoke, it was enough to excite Wyll and send a flush to his dark cheeks. This wasn’t romance. This was lust. Pure, intoxicating desire filled Wyll’s mind, and it was beginning to be too much.

As Astarion’s mouth began kissing down Wyll’s neck, Wyll decided he needed to stop this before things got out of hand. He already felt himself slipping away from control, and there was a part of him that felt… scared? Empty? He couldn’t be sure why, but it was likely due to how unfamiliar this situation had been for him. He grabbed Astarion by the wrist and flipped the man around so that it was Astarion against the wall instead of Wyll, though it was Astarion's front instead of back being pressed against the wall this time. Astarion’s arm was pinned behind him in Wyll’s strong grip, holding the pale man stiffly in place.

"Well, aren't you a cheeky thing~?” Astarion said coyly. “You really know how to lower a man's guard. I didn’t take you for the forceful type.” Though he spoke with that same theatrical style, there was a small anxious tone that entered his melodious voice. Wyll didn’t like how that new tone made him feel, but he shoved the unease to the side of his mind to think about later.

"You're under arrest," Wyll spoke firmly, regaining his composure and sense of duty. Astarion sighed, sounding more annoyed and disappointed than worried. "Of course, the handsome ones are always too good to be true…"

Wyll tried to ignore that comment as he continued. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you-"

"’Anything,’ you say?" Astarion interrupted, that playful coyness coming back to him. Wyll paused in the middle of his speech, taken aback by Astarion’s interjection. What kind of question was that?

"What if I were to only say your name~?" The tone of voice filled with sex came back as Astarion asked the question. He moved his hips back and grazed Wyll's front with his ass, grinding ever so gently on the officer. Wyll jumped back, beginning to lose his composure again at the prospect of what was just said. Astarion took the opportunity of freedom to turn himself around and step away from the wall, leaning towards Wyll and giving him that same devilish grin from earlier. Wyll hated to admit how well it was working.

"Wyll, would you hold yourself against me this evening~?" Astarion asked the seductive question with such ease, as if it wasn’t the first time he had said those words. Wyll noticed now that Astarion’s actions were so perfect in this moment, as if he was performing in some kind of film. Every action and word was so perfectly alluring and so flawlessly executed, as if he had performed this scene a million times. Wyll, not knowing the script that Astarion was working with, took a step back once more and felt himself lean against one of the larger crates on the other side of the shed. His hands moved back to grip the edge and support himself as Astarion stepped closer and moved into his space once again. The pale man put one hand on the crate behind Wyll, leaning into the younger man and using his other hand to gently caress Wyll's chin. With the most tender of touches, Astarion pulled the officer in for a kiss.

As much as Wyll should’ve resisted, he allowed himself to be kissed. His hands dug into the wood of the crate as he felt the erotic sensation course through his body. The soft, cool feeling on his lips felt like a shock, sending waves of strange, terrifying pleasure through him and down to his lower half. He had never kissed a man before, and no other kiss had ever felt like this. Though it wasn’t all that different from kissing a woman, this scenario felt more exciting and terrifying than anything he had ever felt. The charming stranger seduced him so effortlessly. Perhaps Wyll was weak, maybe even a bit lonely, but he allowed himself to be swept off his feet for a moment. Astarion pressed his body against the cop’s, using the hand that wasn’t supporting himself on the crate to move gently down Wyll’s side and to his lower back, pulling the young officer even closer. He could feel Wyll’s excitement starting to build in his jeans, and Wyll even heard a moan escape his own lips as he felt Astarion’s cold body press against his.

Astarion broke the kiss and moved to whisper Wyll’s name in his ear again, this time a bit softer and filled with quiet desire, as his hand trailed down Wyll’s side once more and moved to the front of his pants. At the sensation of being palmed, Wyll inhaled sharply and his whole body jolted. In his panic, he grabbed Astarion’s wrist that had just grazed his front and pulled it to the side, gripping it tight. Astarion made a small, pained noise as Wyll tried that same flip again, though Astarion was better prepared and resisted this time around. He pulled his arm towards his chest so Wyll couldn’t twist him around as easily. Instead, Wyll used his leg and hooked it behind Astarion’s ankle, sending the pale man falling onto the mattress behind him. Wyll quickly flipped Astarion over while the man was still surprised and sat firmly on Astarion’s lower back, that way he couldn’t flip over again. Now that he had the advantage once more, Wyll didn’t hesitate to pull out his handcuffs that were stashed in his back pocket and begin cuffing his newfound companion.

“Wait, please!” The cool, seductive confidence had left Astarion’s voice. Wyll did pause, surprised by the quick change of tone. He kept his grip tight on Astarion’s wrist, but had only cuffed one hand so far. The pause didn’t last long though as Wyll regained his sense of duty and began cuffing the other wrist. Astarion’s breathing began to quicken, almost like a cornered animal. “I’ll give you anything you want, I’ll do anything, just please don’t take me away.” He was panicked, but there was still some sense of composure behind his words.

“You’ve committed solicitation of sexual acts and prostitution. As an officer of the law, it is my duty to take you in.”

Astarion wriggled under Wyll, the sensation of his squirming body sending a guilty wave of pleasure through Wyll as the friction in his pants rubbed against him, but Wyll held out strong. As he tried to break free, a thought clicked in Astarion’s mind and he went still under Wyll. “What evidence do you have?”

Wyll froze. “I’m sorry?”

“What evidence do you have that I have charged money for sex?”

Wyll opened his mouth to speak, but then realized that he had none, not officially anyway. All his assumptions this evening have been based on the intel he received from Mizora, but he had no actual proof that Astarion was one of the members of the group he came to this park looking for. Though he made a slew of incriminating remarks, there was nothing that would work as evidence in a court of law to accuse Astarion of prostitution. All he had as of now was speculation and conjecture. As Wyll pondered this new set of circumstances, Astarion continued, “all I’ve done is offer a bit of fun, which you consented to. The only crime I’m guilty of is being a whore, but there’s nothing illegal in what I’ve done tonight.”

Wyll sat there, still holding Astarion’s wrists in place and pinning him against the mattress, though his grip began to soften. God, did he already screw this job up? He didn’t even think to try to get evidence. He was so inexperienced with work like this, with interactions like these, he hadn’t even thought past allowing someone to lure him to a secluded area. After that, his plans fizzled out. God… I’m such a fool.

He didn’t confirm or deny Astarion’s accusations, but he did move to uncuff Astarion. Once he was free, Wyll rolled off of Astarion and to the side. Astarion moved to his knees and stretched his back, then rubbed his wrists where the cuffs had dug in and left faint, red lines on his fair skin.

“I’m sorry,” was all the rookie could muster up, pulling his knees to his chest.

“Oh, no need to apologize. I’ve been handled much rougher than that.” There was a lingering, awkward silence that thankfully Astarion broke quickly. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” The question was sincere and non-judgemental. The bluntness of it turned Wyll’s face a new color that he didn’t even know he was capable of.

“No!” he said, a bit louder than he intended.

“I see,” Astarion said dismissively, turning and sitting back against the wall to face Wyll as he continued his questioning, “but I take it you’ve only been with women?” The flush that burned Wyll’s face only got deeper at the accusation, but he couldn’t deny it. He turned and buried his face in his knees. “Is it that obvious…?”

Astarion giggled. It sounded so light and playful, ringing in Wyll’s head afterwards. That may have been the first sound that Wyll heard from Astarion all evening that didn’t sound so rehearsed. “You’re not as subtle as you may think, officer.” Astarion moved his foot and nudged Wyll’s leg with it. Wyll’s face immediately lifted from his knees and turned to look at Astarion, who had another smirk on those lovely lips of his, though this time, it seemed a bit more relaxed. His eyes were softer, and there was a sense of desire in them this time that seemed more genuine than before. Would he still want an inexperienced fool like Wyll after all that?

“Would you still like to hold yourself against me this evening, Wyll?” Astarion asked, a new, softer, more genuine tone appearing in his voice. There was a bit of exhaustion and sincerity that was now apparent on his face as well.

“I… I don’t know…” Wyll said, the nerves returning. He had to turn his eyes away from Astarion’s face again. The nerves were coming back, and he still had a job to do. He couldn’t do something like this. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. Astarion was incredibly attractive, that wasn’t the problem, but there was a hollow feeling in his stomach, one that left him nervous and worried. What would Mizora do to him if he didn’t come back with at least one arrest tonight? Would he be committing a felony if he slept with Astarion, even if he technically didn’t have any solid evidence against him that proved he was a prostitute? Why would Astarion want to spend the night with an officer anyways?

As the questions ran wild in Wyll’s mind, Astarion nudged Wyll’s leg again to get his attention. Once Wyll finally met his gaze again, Astarion asked, “what would you like then, darling?”

Wyll stared at the man of the night blankly. Astarion had a soft, exhausted expression that resonated with something in Wyll. He had thought of Astarion as handsome and alluring all evening, but that soft expression was something that he could only describe as beautiful.

“Maybe, for now… we could just… talk?” Wyll said, his voice shrinking in embarrassment. Thankfully, Astarion didn’t seem put off by the suggestion. Instead, he moved to lie down on the mattress and stretch out his legs. “Alright, we can talk. Did you have a topic for discussion in mind?”

“Well… can I ask why you invited me to this place?” Wyll asked, not comfortable enough to lie down. He remained in his fetal position towards the foot of the mattress.

Astarion sighed, “well, to have a little bit of fun, obviously. I thought that was fairly clear.”

“Well, yes, but… why me? Why didn’t one of those other women you were with invite me somewhere instead?”

“Well,” Astarion began, rolling on his side and resting his head on his hand to get a better look at Wyll. “I thought you were adorable, sitting and showing interest while nervously dodging our stares. You’re a handsome young man, you know.” Wyll blushed at the compliment, averting his gaze again. He had never had the chance to flirt with another man before, and Astarion had so much experience that left Wyll feeling like a babe in the woods. Astarion was amused by Wyll’s darkened cheek, then posed a question of his own. “Did you not intend on having a bit of fun this evening? Were you simply a good officer trying to do your job?”

“It’s… complicated, but yes, I was out here solely for work.” There was no point in trying to be coy about it. He had already tried to arrest Astarion, so he already blew his cover.

“Well, darling, in the future, if you’re scouting for workers of certain occupations, might I suggest trying to pay them first or requesting their rate?”

“Yes… I didn’t… think about the details before jumping into this…”

Astarion scoffed playfully. “Clearly.”

Wyll wanted to curl in on himself in embarrassment and his lack of experience. Astarion saw the reaction and only felt moderately guilty. He rolled onto his back once more and decided to be courteous enough to change the subject. “Well, what do you enjoy doing in your free time then, Officer Wyll?”

“I enjoy reading…” Wyll couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious about his hobby, but the new topic relaxed him a bit. His shoulders softened and his knees relaxed away from his chest a bit.

“I do as well,” Astarion admitted. Wyll was a bit surprised, honestly. Astarion continued the conversation. “What do you like to read?”

“Stories of fantasy and… romance, mainly.”

“Of course you’re a romantic,” Astarion said with a tone of pseudo judgment, unsurprised by Wyll’s taste.

“And what’s so wrong with that?” Wyll asked with a curious grin, turning his body to face Astarion a bit better.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Astarion said with a dramatic flourish of his hand. “It’s just so predictable that someone as polite as you would be a hopeless romantic. Let me guess,” Astarion turned on his side again and began to gesticulate even more as he proposed his theory of Wyll. “You love a good fantastical story where a vigilante of justice comes in and saves a poor heroine, and the two of them fall deeply and madly in love and live happily ever after?”

“And if I did?” Wyll said, managing to regain some composure and enjoying the turn of conversation. It wasn’t the first time he had been teased for his taste, though he had to admit, it was more fun coming from Astarion. Astarion scoffed and fell on his back again, waving his hand above his face and dismissing the comment. “It just means you’re horribly predictable, but there’s no shame in that, darling~.” The last statement had that playful snarkiness return, and it put a smile on Wyll’s face.

“Alright, then what do you like to read, Astarion?”

“Oh, nothing in particular. Fiction, non-fiction, histories, whatever I can get my hands on, really.”

“Well, what kind of stories are you fond of? I take it you’re not one for romance?”

“I don’t mind a good deal of romance,” Astarion said, a bit offended, “but I much rather prefer stories of adventurers, revenge, and deception. They are much more interesting reads, if you ask me.”

The two continued on like this for hours, talking about stories that they were fond of and wanted to share. Wyll even admitted to his appreciation for more promiscuous types of fiction, and Astarion was impressed that Wyll managed to even quote one particularly bad erotica that they had both happened to read at one point in their youths. As the conversation continued, Wyll felt more and more comfortable around the beautiful stranger. He wasn’t comfortable enough to lie down, but he did move to rest against the wall at the head of the bed, sitting right next to Astarion’s face and watching the man’s dramatic expressions as he talked about one of his favorite stories, The Count of Candlekeep . It was the story of a man who was falsely arrested after being accused by four other men and forced into prison for over twenty years. During that time, he met a wise man and learned about a hidden treasure that, after escaping the prison, he found and made his own. Soon, he became one of the richest men in the world, and through the power he gained for himself, he was able to get terrible, gruesome, satisfying revenge on all four of the men who had betrayed him. As Wyll watched Astarion passionately recount the tale, he couldn’t help but admire him. The smile that appeared as Astarion talked about the Count and how fascinating his character is, the way his brow creased slightly as he recounted more intense scenes, the way his hair fell to the side on the bed and slowly became a bit messier throughout the evening as the mattress ruffled it. He really was handsome, but he seemed to grow more alive as the night continued, and it captivated Wyll immensely.

“Of course there’s romance involved as well, and it’s incredibly well written, but there’s so much more to the story than just that. I can’t believe you’ve never even heard of the book, but you can quote The Salty Mermaid .”

Wyll shrugged. “It never came up in my father’s library, it seems.”

“Well, your father should develop better tastes.” Astarion said, waving his hand dismissively. Wyll laughed and responded, “perhaps you’re right.”

The two sat in a moment of silence for the first time in a while, though this time, it was comfortable. Astarion lay next to Wyll with his eyes closed. He looked so serene. Wyll couldn’t help but stare and take in the delicate yet chiseled features of his companion’s face. His soft, delicate white lashes, his strong, lovely nose, those soft, slightly thin lips… He was truly a vision. Wyll was tempted to reach out and place a hand on Astarion’s head, maybe even petting him and feeling how soft his curls really were, but he resisted the urge. He didn’t want to be too forward.

After sitting in the silence for who knows how long, Astarion yawned and rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. “Do you happen to have the time, darling?” Wyll looked at his watch and saw that it was already past three in the morning. Upon hearing the time, Astarion’s eyes shot open and he shot straight up. “Is everything alright…?” Wyll asked, concerned by the sudden shift in Astarion’s demeanor.

“Yes, of course, I simply lost track of the time is all. It’s quite late and I should be getting home,” he then turned and gave Wyll a concerningly serious stare. “As should you.”

“I suppose so… but what’s wrong?” Wyll asked, genuinely worried now. He reached out and placed his hand softly on Astarion’s shoulder. Astarion jolted away from the touch and stood up from the mattress. “It’s nothing… “ he said, brushing off his leather pants. “I just think that it’s late and you should be on your way. You’d be much more comfortable in your own bed, surely.”

“Well, yes, but are you alright?” Wyll asked as he stared up from where he sat.

“Of course I am!” Astarion turned to face Wyll, but that rehearsed feeling returned to his demeanor. His voice lilted in a way like it did when they first made their way to this shed, and Wyll felt a bit nervous. He stood up as well, brushing dust off his backside and looking at Astarion with what must’ve been visible concern. “Wyll, darling, I’m perfectly alright~. I just don’t want a young, handsome thing such as yourself losing out on your much needed beauty sleep. How do you think I kept this face as charming as it is all these years~?”

“Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?” Wyll asked. He couldn’t imagine what he had done, but he had an even harder time understanding Astarion’s new urgency.

“Darling, of course not,” he sighed and placed a hand on Wyll’s arm, and this time, Wyll enjoyed the touch. There was a warmth to the sensation that had been missing earlier. “You’ve been the perfect gentleman all evening. Well… besides our little wrestling match, of course.” Astarion said with a small giggle and a smile that seemed a little too perfect. “It’s just… well…” Astarion paused for a long moment, then finally managed to continue. “You failed in your mission this evening, and so I think it’s only fair that I fail in mine as well.”

“Fail? What mission? What do you mean? Are you in danger?” Wyll asked, a sense of urgency rising in his own throat. Astarion shook his head and made his way over to the door. “No, nothing like that, I’ll be alright.” From the way he spoke, Wyll had a strong suspicion that this new companion of his was lying. Astarion turned his gaze to the door and opened it for his guest, then motioned and smiled at Wyll. “You should go.”

Wyll walked slowly to the door, standing in the doorway for a moment and staring at Astarion. The man with the silver hair couldn’t bear to make eye contact with Wyll, it seemed, but managed to speak. “It’s been a pleasure spending an evening with you, Wyll.”

“The pleasure’s been mine. Perhaps… it doesn’t have to be the only evening we spend together?” This seemed to catch Astarion’s attention. The pale gentleman looked at Wyll’s expression and saw that the young man seemed sincere. There was a softness in his face that made Astarion freeze for a moment. Though he was concerned, Wyll was pleasantly surprised to see Astarion fumble for the first time all evening.

“I’m… not sure if that’s the best idea…” Astarion said tensely.

“Well, I won’t force you, of course, but I’d like to enjoy your company more, if you’d permit me.” Wyll grazed the back of Astarion’s hand with a finger, and Astarion seemed surprised. Instead of running away from the touch, Astarion turned his hand and let Wyll hold his with a soft grip. He sighed, “Wyll, I don’t think it’s a wise decision for us to associate further.”

“Well… could I ask why?”

“My… occupation. It involves certain people that… I don’t like them knowing who I associate with, and I’m afraid if we spend any more time together, they might become curious.”

“Are they often that nosey in your personal affairs?” Wyll asked with a small hint of disbelief.

“You have no idea. ” Astarion said with a deep sigh. Wyll squeezed his hand and offered him a smile. “Well, if I did happen to want to search out your company again, is there a way I could find you?”

Astarion cocked his head to the side and looked at Wyll with admiration and frustration. “You won’t leave me alone, will you?”

“I will if you want me to,” Wyll responded.

Astarion stood for a moment and looked at their entwined hands. After what seemed like a long moment of heavy contemplation, he met Wyll’s gaze. “There’s a bar near the park. It’s called the Elfsong. I tend to spend my Saturday evenings there starting at dusk. If you’d like to search out my company again, then I’d suggest there. For now,” he released Wyll’s hand and motioned to the open door again, “I believe this is where we should say goodnight.”

Wyll sighed and nodded reluctantly. “The Elfsong at dusk, I’ll keep it in mind. Have a good evening, Astarion.” He stood for a moment, wondering if he should offer a handshake or even a hug before leaving. Instead, Astarion leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. Wyll’s eyes opened a bit wider as he stared at Astarion, who was now smiling nervously. “Good night, Officer Wyll.”

With that, Wyll stepped outside the shed and Astarion closed the door behind him. He stood there for a moment and touched his cheek where Astarion had kissed him. It wasn’t like the kisses they exchanged earlier in the evening. This one left a sensation not of nervous electricity, but of something pleasant and ethereal. There was a warmth that lingered on his skin. Wyll never recalled kisses from his girlfriends ever feeling like this. It was something special.

As he began to exit the park the way he came, he had a feeling of something watching him. The feeling made Wyll nervous, but he did his best to maintain his composure and walk just a bit faster than he usually would. It was a Sunday, so if Wyll was lucky, he would get to see Astarion next Saturday. That’s if Mizora or this gnawing sensation of being watched didn’t get him first.

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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

#wyllstarion #astarion x wyll #bg3 #fanfic #astarion #wyll ravengard #demisexual #modern au #police #sex worker #writing #long post #mizora #ulder ravengard #mine #just one yesterday

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