Fictober 2023
Day 27 - Prompt: "I don't know if they'll accept this."
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3
Just one rest more, and they would be in Baldur’s Gate.
Wyll leaned against the crumbling wall of the old fortress’s tower—he’d come here as a boy more than once with his friends, and they’d play soldier until sunset. He wondered how many of them had actually followed that path…or how many of them were still alive. Certainly no one else had gotten in a fool’s bargain like he had.
“Well, aren’t you the broody hero? Am I interrupting?”
Wyll jumped, and he turned around to look at Astarion. His hand was still on his horn—he’d found himself absently rubbing them when we thought in a new nervous habit. After a moment, he shook his head.
“Of course not, just thinking.” He sighed as he looked over the city again. “What a homecoming, right?”
“Mm, if you can call it that,” Astarion said dryly. “My Baldur’s Gate has been gone for centuries. Living in the shadows of the city as I did doesn’t make it feel much like home.” He lightly rested his arms on the tower’s wall, scanning over the lights below. “It’ll be interesting seeing what it looks like during the day. In-between the horrors that await us, of course.” He looked to Wyll. “It’s been a long time for you, though, hasn’t it? Well, relatively speaking.”
Wyll half-smiled. “Seven years.”
“And you’re only…twenty-three? Twenty-four? Gods, you’re a fetus.” Astarion sighed. “All the same, I hope this cesspool welcomes you home.” As Wyll shifted uncomfortably, Astarion’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“I…I’ve dreamt of this, you know. Ever since I was cast out.” He gave a small smile. “I always imagined a big fanfare—the Blade of Frontiers finally welcomed home, my father’s arms open, his pride at all I’d accomplished, all the good I’ve done.” His smile faded, and he let out a long sigh. “Being a devil hadn’t been part of those plans.”
“I think Baldur’s Gate has much bigger problems than your handsome pair of horns,” Astarion said. “And, if we’re being honest, I don’t think Gortash would have arranged anything nice for you either way.”
“I know, I know, I just…” Wyll pressed his lips together, gaze focused on the lights below. “I’ve worked so hard for this…for them. Even after all these years, part of me is…still that seventeen-year-old boy who wanted to be the city’s hero. My city’s hero. And I…I have that chance now, but…” He looked up at Astarion, looking lost as he gestured to his horns. “I don't know if they'll accept this."
“If they don't, then fuck the lot of them.”
Wyll startled. “What?”
Astarion met his gaze. “You’ve done more for the entire Sword Coast than most people would do for the people they love the most. You’re…disgustingly heroic and good, you know. If anything, the horns are a nice reminder that you’re real and not some fairy tale knight out of a storybook.” He sighed, looking back out to the city. “And if the people of Baldur’s Gate—your father included—can’t recognize that, then fuck them. You deserve better.”
Wyll stared at Astarion for a moment, then his mouth twitched up into a smile. “Thank you.”
Astarion waved his hand. “It’s the truth. Nothing to thank me for.”
Wyll puffed out a laugh at that and nodded. “Of course. You know, Astarion, I think you’re actually…”
“Do not say what I think you’re about to say.” Astarion glared at him, and Wyll held up his hands.
“All right, all right,” he said with a laugh. “You’re awful and evil and the worst.”
“Thank you.”
“…but I’m still fortunate to have a friend like you.”
The vampire looked caught off-guard by that, faux-affront softening before he could stop it. He looked over Wyll for a moment, then turned back to the city.
“You know,” he said after a moment, “Drizzt Do’Urden didn’t even leave Menzoberranzan until he was over thirty. You’ve got a headstart on him.” He tilted his head with a grimace. “You should probably stop posing when you do something heroic if you want to get to his level, though.”
Wyll barked out a laugh. “Noted. Make sure the biographers don’t mention I do that.”
“Oh, naturally, I will. Provided I’m depicted very flatteringly in accounts of your first big adventure, of course.”
“Of course.”
Fictober 2023 Drabble Master Post
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thinking about what zuko means to azula and weeping. he's a traitor but he's your brother. he held you when you were born. he's banished for being too weak to hurt your father and you learn to hate his goodness. he is somewhere in the world carrying your eyes. he misses your absent mother more than he loves you but that is the price you pay for being the one who stayed. he never grants you this same kindness. you are faster and deadlier and better but it doesn't change the fact that your brave big brother used to tell you stories of dragons every time it stormed because you were so afraid of the thunder. he is the only one who understands what it means to bear the brunt of your bloody inheritance. he crumbled under the weight of it, but you stayed. you always stay. he is half of you. you hate being betrayed.
you don't love him. he's your big brother. who could you possibly love more?
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🗡️ “That time of the month again?”
because we all know that periods suck and characters are not immune to the horrors 🗡️ prompt list of comforting actions
Character A is bedridden from the cramps and Character B becomes their living heating pad (cuddles with arms wrapped around the waist >>>>)
B buys A their favorite chocolates a couple days before their period starts and keeps beverages with electrolytes on hand
A takes a day off to rest, bingewatch some episodes of a good show, and care for themselves (maybe do some yoga, and by yoga I mean curl up in the fetal position for a couple hours)
B thinks that making a nice bath for A will help and prepares everything for when A gets home (A laughs and explains why that’s not a great idea)
Searching for Shark Week’s episodes online to deal with shark week in person, but getting distracted by cute animal shows
B can’t be there for A in person so they send A $30 to cover extra snacks and/or medicine
Instead of getting emotional over posts online, A digs out an old book series and gets emotional over that (they are reliving their childhood, they swear it’s cathartic THEY SWEAR)
A can’t sleep with the back pain so B gives them a light back massage with several check-ins to make sure the noises are in relief and not pain
B keeps the lights dim and and TV volume low as A battles a headache
All meals are made with ahead of time and cravings humored (“You can’t just eat straight salt.” “I know that, which is why I’m putting all of it on this.”)
A asks for B to get more pads/tampons at the store, B calls and sends many pictures as they try to figure out what will work best for A
B quietly scrubs out any bloodstains from A’s clothes as they do laundry (and they’re really efficient at it, why are they so good at getting blood out of clothing—)
A snuggling up with their pet who knows the exact spot to be in for maximum comfy (B thinks it’s adorable and takes a picture to show A later)
“I’m sorry if I’m not really conversational right now…” “Dude you’re on your period and barely slept last night, you’re good. We don’t have to talk, we can just chill.”
B brings home a machine for homemade ice-cream and all the ingredients needed for A’s favorite flavor (they spend the evening making it and declare a “dessert before dinner” day for when periods strike)
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The more I think about it, the more I think that Persuasion has my favorite premise of all of Jane Austen's novels
Anne Elliot as a character speaks to my soul. She feels tremendous guilt for a decision she made eight years ago. Her life is lonely, as she doesn't really have anyone she can truly confide in despite being surrounded by people. So she swallows her pain, the yearning she feels deep in her soul, and vows that if nothing else at least she'll be helpful.
And of course she is reunited with Frederick Wentworth (the one that got away) who seems to hate her now, and she just keeps going. She keeps being kind and supporting her loved ones while slowly carving out a life for herself. There's something about her classic heroism that just feels so attainable. I don't have Elizabeth Bennett's wit, or Jane Bennett's unwavering belief in the goodness of everyone, or even Elinor's constant composure. But I can be like Anne and just keep moving forward attempting to be helpful
Of course it all works out in the end, and Anne is finally surrounded by people who truly appreciate her, even if she had to wait an extra eight years. Others have observed the fairy tale quality of the ending, and perhaps that's why it speaks to me. The idea that if you just keep doing your best and being kind, you'll eventually find happiness
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