If Disco Elysium Doesn't Radicalize You In Some Way, You're Playing It Wrong

it's so wild to me that you absolutely cannot force a hyperfixation to happen. like you'll watch the most perfectly tailor-made-for-you content that everyone says you'll love and feel absolutely nothing, and then the thing you watch on a whim to fill time will reach through the screen and put its damn fingers in your brain and start rearranging the neurons right in front of you and every single time you're like THIS??? THIS??????? and this happens like every 6-12 months forever

It's scary to be transgender in the world right now but if you're transgender I love you and we have to stick together and keep fighting and keep living and keep loving

Absolutely. As much as I love dramatic romance, I think there's a beautiful subtlety to Astarion's romance storyline. This slow-burn relationship where he only really, truly confesses his love with confidence after defeating Cazador would feel cheapened if he just suddenly flipped a switch into calling us his soulmate or something. Although I believe that he probably feels more strongly than he's willing to admit, as is typical of him. He's not exactly the best at putting his vulnerable feelings into words. I also *love* that, like you said, the playfulness in this comment of his shows a comfort and equality in the relationship. He's not a lovestruck puppy who worships the ground we walk on; he's an equal partner. That's important for any romance story, but especially his, I think.

I swear, this is why I love this game (and Astarion in particular) so much. We can sit here and talk about a single line of dialogue and pick apart all the layers. It's beautiful.

“What are we to you?”

“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person who I truly care for.”

While this is not that perfectly quotable bon mot you can slap on a t-shirt, so far it's my personal favourite when it comes to spawn Astarion dialogues. (Still a few quests away from finishing the game, but slowly getting there!)

If the player hoped that after hours of hearing I don't know. But isn't it nice not to know? (which I also adore) they'll get something more definite and old-school romantic, they were wrong. (Well, maybe not wrong; the cemetery scene is still there, both touching and heartwrenching.)

What do we get instead? Astarion’s trademark sarcasm. A dramatic sigh followed by an annoyed Nothing special, of course. As in: Tav, do you really need to ask such stupid questions? Do you really need me to spell it out for you?

And I mean, casually calling your loved one ‘nothing special’ right into their face? If you can allow yourself a joke like this and you both laugh, you know you're in a place of comfort.

You're only the first person who I truly care for – yet, a confession follows, and again, I appreciate the just right mixture of quip, candour and informality. No lofty professions of undying love, thank the gods. Astarion’s body language is delicious, too. That motion as if he’s playfully tapping Tav on the arm? But I especially love the cheeky smile as he glances to the side. He’s such an adorable rascal during this dialogue.

The whole line is punctuated by Astarion clearing his throat. I’ve seen someone write it’s a telltale sign of him being genuine. Perhaps there's a tiny hint of self-consciousness, too, because he’s so much more used to all those fake, turgid pick-up lines.

No worries, Astarion, you're doing great. Please don't ever lose that smart mouth of yours.

Have I just written a small wall of text about a single line of dialogue? Quite possibly, yes.

I signed up for an ao3 invite to incentivize myself to not be afraid in continuing my fanfic-writing journey. Maybe some of my writing will see the light of day after all, or maybe I'll just post snippets on here. I'm mostly writing for myself but it would be really cool if someone else read it but I'm also terrified of that. I've convinced myself that every other person on the planet is a better writer than me and I will be pelted with tomatoes if I ever post my own work. Currently trying to un-convince myself of that.

My Tav

I'm hoping to eventually post some snippets / maybe a completed fic on here once I get something presentable, and I'm trying to motivate myself rather than get caught up in anxiety. So I thought I may as well informally introduce my Tav. She's very much still a work in progress, but I'm trying not to put too much pressure on myself to have her extensively fleshed-out when I only really just started actually writing her story. I made up a lot about her as I played the game, but now I'm taking that raw material and expanding upon it. Anyway, this is River:

Name: River*

Gender: She identifies as a woman and goes by she/her, but her gender isn't really crucial to her sense of identity.

Race: Half-elf

Age: Half-elf equivalent of mid-twenties

Class: Paladin (Oath of the Ancients)

Appearance: I imagine her looking a little different than her in-game version, mainly in body type and hair length, as well as some facial differences. She's about 5' 8" (Astarion won't let her forget that she's nearly a whole inch shorter than him), but not as lean and obviously muscular as the type 3 body option in-game. She's strong, but isn't as slim as the other female characters. The vanilla game doesn't have the option, but I imagine her with long wavy hair that she usually wears braided for combat and down when at rest. She has numerous scars.

Personality: She's very introverted and quiet, preferring to observe and listen than be any sort of center of attention. She's extremely good at reading and understanding others, but is rarely understood herself. She is giving to a fault, and needs to learn not to be the "therapist friend" all the time. Being high-masking autistic, she comes across as weird or just quiet to most people who don't know her. She's defined by her selflessness, empathy, and passion, though she struggles to express the latter openly. Despite her social struggles, she will stand firm when defending someone and upholding her oaths. She hates it when people (Astarion) call her a self-sacrificial paladin stereotype, because it's true.

Overview:

She is pretty similar to Wyll in a lot of ways, in that she wears the mask of the protector, always putting everyone else first, driven by compassion. While she becomes extremely attached to her companions very quickly, she struggles greatly to form the genuine, profound connection she desires. She doesn't like to talk about her past because though she craves emotional intimacy like a drug, it also terrifies her.

She's a paladin, sworn to the Oath of the Ancients, because she feels fundamentally like an outsider. In her mind, if she can't belong among people, at least she can protect and care for them from afar. Chronic self-isolation has led her to feeling extremely off-balance once this group of tadpole-infested weirdos decides that she's the person to follow around the wilds of Faerun looking for a cure. She has never been accepted as a leader of any kind before, so she's uncertain, but finds drive in the fact that people are putting their faith in her. She would give anything to not let them down.

River finds Astarion intriguing from the beginning, and immediately wants to get through to him. She can see the mask he wears, even when others insist on taking him at face value. She doesn't support his more sadistic tendencies, but she sees the good in him from early on, and can tell there's much more to his story. Him being a vampire isn't that big of a deal to her; she is practical, and has a good sense of his character by then. She feels understanding and care for him more than anything else, so she puts her trust in him. (Interesting, considering her oaths, as the forces of nature aren't too keen on undead... Foreshadowing?) She ends up falling for Astarion in act 2 because of how he's finally opening up a bit, and she can see the soft, bright, passionate, incredibly strong man he is under the facade. After a whole lot of patience and consistent support, of course. Astarion shows time and time again that he seems to accept and understand River in a way nobody else, even their other companions, ever has. They're the one person in each other's lives who has never judged the other. Well, Astarion judges and openly mocks her plenty in the beginning for her bleeding heart, but never for the things she feels that deep-rooted shame over, like her autistic traits.

They're both learning together what it means to form connection after a lifetime of disconnect and loneliness, in a world that does not accept either of them without conditions. They may look like opposites to those who don't realize that their asymmetry is simply reflection. They challenge each other in the best ways, and deep down, they know a lot of the same pain. It sounds cheesy, but I think they balance each other out in a way that pushes them both to be better, braver people.

I'm currently working on a fic that I think will consist of several chapters occurring at important and illustrative points in both the game's narrative and their relationship. River has a lot of growth across the story in terms of self-acceptance, confronting her relationship with her Oaths, connecting, and reclaiming her identity. I love writing her and Astarion in any given situation, not to mention her relationships with the other companions. She's far from my best-written or most unique original character, but I care about her and her story. I'm trying to take my time and not put pressure or judgement on myself, and to just have fun with it. I'm also on the verge of committing to a post-game fic about Astarion and River, which I have SO many ideas for, involving tons of fluff, healing, Astarion's bucket list of "Things I Want To Do Now That I'm Not Slave To An Evil Vampire Lord", and plenty of interesting vampiric chaos in the Underdark. That story will be a bigger commitment, but I feel so inspired to write it. Something about writing her and Astarion is just so comforting to me.

While this character is very much like me in a lot of ways, she's also different in crucial ones, and I think I'm learning a lot by writing her.

(Now, I'm on my way to starting a Dark Urge playthrough, and I have some Ideas of how River could fit perfectly in that role, from what I know about the resist Dark Urge storyline. The angst and metaphors would be dialed up to 100. With some backstory changes, it could work really well, I think. So don't be surprised if she potentially becomes a Dark Urge AU version of herself in the future haha. Writing fanfic has been so freeing because I can just DO that if i want to. My character can be fluid. There are no rules. Hells yeah.)

*(I came up with her name before I even got the game, and so her name being in the main theme song makes it seem cheesy but I don't care lol)

Some people really play the whole game, experience Astarion's storyline in full, yet don't understand or respect that he doesn’t want to be treated as a sex object. 

Since I joined the fandom, I’ve been told, repeatedly, that Astarion was evil in the past, evil when you meet him, and will be evil at the end of the game—whether he remains a vampire spawn or not. No good ending, no redemption for him; because it’s not like he suddenly becomes a saint!

Essentially, he’s talked about as if he were a monolith. Static. Unmoving. Frozen in place.

Well, at this point, I feel the need to say how I see it.

First of all, the concept of the corrupt magistrate is outdated—it doesn’t exist in the game. Maybe it was an early draft of his background that was later scrapped. But in the actual game, there’s no mention of it—no character, no note, no book, not a single thing that references this.

And given how important that detail would be for his characterization, I don’t see why Larian wouldn’t have included it, even as an offhand remark.

What we do know about Astarion before becoming Cazador’s vampire spawn is that he was a magistrate, and that the Gur beat him to death over a law he had passed against them. That’s it.

Personally, I think this ties into his previous position of privilege, prejudice, and the fact that he was likely a tedious, meticulous, and inflexible magistrate—but ultimately, that’s just my own inference based on scattered dialogues.

The truth is, the Gur could have been wrong.

We’ll never know!

Just like we’ll never know what color his gorgeous eyes were before they turned red.

Now, I’m going to shift to a slightly more technical perspective—but I promise I won’t go overboard!

The Astarion from Act 1 cannot be the same Astarion at the end of the game, regardless of whether he ascends or not.

And here’s why.

In basic screenwriting, we talk about a character’s transformation arc. If there is no change, there is simply no story—because the character would be nothing more than a rubber figure on whom events, decisions, and other characters bounce off without leaving a trace. It wouldn’t be engaging, nor would the character have any real drive to act.

This is a vast topic that I won’t go into in detail, but if you’re interested, just type character arc into a search engine, and you’ll find a whole world of information.

Do you think stories and characters are written purely by feeling? There are countless manuals that explain the rules of good storytelling. (Dara Marks, considered the best American story editor, formulated the rules outlined in her renowned manual, Inside Story: The Power of the Transformational Arc.)

And characters follow writing principles—Astarion included. And creating a believable character while following these rules is really complicated—so every time someone says that Astarion is a monolith, somewhere, a screenwriter dies.

It’s just not possible, folks—there’s no chance that Astarion stays exactly the same throughout the entire story. He has to grow. Or regress.

Either way, he cannot remain unchanged; otherwise, The Pale Elf narrative arc wouldn’t exist.

It’s the fundamental rule of storytelling—straight from the rulebook.

Now, let’s clarify the concept of redemption a bit.

In religion, redemption is the forgiveness or absolution of sins and protection from damnation and misfortune, whether eternal or temporary. The Catholic Act of Contrition is a profound and meaningful prayer, considered the first step toward redemption. It allows believers to express their repentance and willingness to change after committing a sin.

From here, the term has come to be used in a more general sense to refer to the attainment of physical or moral freedom through liberation from guilt and sources of unhappiness.

In a literal sense, however, redemption means salvation, remedy, or escape.

So, yes, the vampire spawn ending is a redemption arc—not because Astarion suddenly becomes a saint, for god’s sake, but because he faces his past, everything he has done up until that moment and the people he has harmed, and does so as a hero, sacrificing himself for the greater good.

(Yes, one could debate whether releasing 7,000 starving vampire spawn into the world is truly the greater good, but within the context of the game, its setting, and Astarion’s narrative arc, it is.

Wyll—the group's hero and a monster hunter—explicitly says, "They are victims just like you, Astarion. They deserve freedom too."

Many of the good-aligned companions also disapprove of their extermination, and depending on their oath, even a Paladin Tav/Durge can break their vow and become an oathbreaker if they choose to kill them all.

So, the game itself strongly suggests that freeing them is the most humane and morally right choice—especially for Astarion.)

So, to summarize, it is a redemption arc because Astarion takes responsibility and atones for his actions, for his sins. He acknowledges the harm he has caused and repents, embraces the pain of others beyond his own, and gives them the freedom that he himself had once taken from them.

That’s what redemption means, not that he becomes a saint by the end of the game.

Not only that, but Astarion also makes peace with the Gur, who will stop hunting him—not out of laziness, but because he has proven that he has changed, that he has grown, and that he is no longer a threat to innocent people. (And they also accept the release of the spawn, despite being monster hunters—take note!)

It’s no coincidence that Astarion tells his brothers and sisters that they can choose between being parasites hiding in the shadows or something more than what Cazador created them to be.

But either way, the consequences will be on their heads—because actions and choices have weight.

And you reap what you sow.

And here, I’ll take a small detour, because the first person to bring up the concept of redemption is actually Ulma, with her words: "But it would be a start—you could still be redeemed."

She later reinforces this idea in one of the most powerful scenes in the game, when—after the ritual and Astarion’s absolutely heart-wrenching explanation of why he took the decision away from them regarding their own children—she tells him: "I never thought a vampire spawn could find redemption… but yes, you will no longer be hunted."

Of course, Astarion is still a vampire. He still has instincts and needs. He likes hunting, killing, and yes, instilling fear. A little, as he puts it.

The difference is that instead of doing it indiscriminately, he directs his attention toward criminals, toward those who harm others. Just like the Emperor.

Even Karlach Mind Flayer redirects her hunger toward a specific category of people—ones who might even appreciate her intervention.

It’s called killing two birds with one stone.

And here I return to the technical side of storytelling—Astarion’s transformational arc is complete, and at this point, he falls into the archetype of the anti-hero: a protagonist in a story who may lack some of the traditional hero’s qualities, such as idealism, courage, and morality.

Typically, an antihero is a rebellious or tormented character with clearly negative traits who often employs questionable methods. However, they should not be mistaken for a villain, as they do not fully descend into evil or possess enough heroic qualities to earn the audience’s sympathy.

However, considering the general setting—where even heroes kill as if there’s no tomorrow and punish villains with brutality—just look at Selûne’s demigoddess daughter, Lady Aylin—I don’t see anything strange or horrific about feeding on criminals.

Quite the opposite.

To conclude, the concepts I’ve mentioned are not something I made up from scratch—they’ve existed for ages.

Astarion’s evil ending is clearly ascension, which, following the rules of good storytelling, still adheres to a transformational arc compared to Act 1 Astarion.

By extension, Act 1 Astarion is different from both the Ascendant Vampire and the Vampire Spawn in the final outcome. The monolithic character does not exist in any story worthy of being called one. And Baldur's Gate 3 is a masterpiece of writing.

I love the clip where Neil Newbon talks about how he wanted to make Astarion's laugh kind of abrasive or off-putting... because little does he know that just made him more endearing. Oops.

Another thing I absolutely love about Astarion’s redemption arc is how some narrative threads introduced in Act 1 find their resolution in the good ending.

The first and most obvious one revolves around the beautiful concept of a gift.

When the player offers their blood to Astarion, he receives a gift that goes beyond mere nourishment. In that moment, what Tav/Durge is giving him, beyond blood, is understanding and trust.

And this concept comes full circle after the ritual, where this narrative thread finds its conclusion. That’s when Spawn Astarion thanks the player for the gift they have given him—gently guiding him by the hand toward a new path where he is truly free.

But not just free. As the vampire spawn himself says in that ending, he is honestly free. And for that gift, he is grateful.

I think that’s absolutely beautiful.

But the meaning runs even deeper than that. This ties into the theme of seeing and being seen—not in a superficial sense.

After all, Astarion’s appearance is both a curse and a shield, something he has learned to wield, just like his mannerisms, his charming words, and the sarcasm he uses as a distraction.

It’s an important concept because it means going beyond the surface, seeing him for who he truly is, feeling him, and experiencing him in his entirety.

Astarion deeply struggles with his condition—not just as a slave, but as a vampire. He’s so happy to be able to act human again thanks to the Illithid tadpole, to do simple, mundane things like crossing running water or entering a house without permission. And let’s not even talk about his joy at standing under the sunlight.

When you meet him on the beach for the first time and reveal what will happen if they don’t get rid of the Illithid tadpoles, Astarion’s bitter reaction, complete with laughter, shows just how much it truly weighs on him: "Of course it’s going to turn me into a monster, what else did I expect?!"

In fact, when his vampiric nature is revealed for the first time during the bite scene, he fears rejection and is quick to emphasize that he’s not some kind of monster. The morning after, when Shadowheart tactlessly points out this aspect of him, his expression changes, and we can see how being perceived as a monster wounds him. It keeps him at a distance, sets him apart as something other. Later, he will even say outright that he wants to be treated like a person—not as a slave, not as a vampire. Just a person. Not superior, not inferior. Exactly like everyone else. Because Astarion wants to be part of the world, to reconnect with people.

This is especially clear when he approves of Tav’s perspective—that he could find a place for himself in the world, where he could be accepted, supported, if he is willing to open up and do the same for others. He approves because the idea appeals to him—it makes him feel like he can belong. Not as a monster, but as a person finding his way back into the world he once inhabited.

But I’m digressing.

The mirror scene isn’t just there by chance—it’s narratively strategic. In that moment, Astarion explicitly asks the player what they see, because he wants to know how the world perceives him. He worries about how others see him precisely because he feels separate, othered, like a monster. And it’s not a matter of appearance—Astarion knows he’s gorgeous. He’s heard it thousands of times over the centuries. But he’s insecure about his place within the group, within society, within the world.

That’s why he appreciates it when Tav/Durge reassures him on the two things that trouble him most—his piercing gaze (the red eyes of a vampire) and his dangerous smile (the sharp fangs of a predator). He relaxes because, in that moment, he feels accepted. Because he realizes his defining traits aren’t the insurmountable barriers he thought they were. Because the person in front of him sees him—not through the lens of prejudice, but for who he really is.

This theme returns later, during the confrontation with Aurelia and Leon, when Astarion deflects the idea of being heroic by saying, "I can’t be what you see in me." Again, the motif of seeing, of looking deeper, of recognizing something more, of reading between the lines—both of the narrative and of his character.

And it’s beautiful when, the morning after the ritual, that relaxed, happy Astarion, with that wonderful smile on his lips, says that Tav/Durge saw something in him. Something different from everyone else. Something beyond his monstrous nature, beyond his darkest intentions, beyond his fear.

Tav/Durge saw him. Saw his potential.

And if you’re in a romantic relationship with him, in the graveyard scene, Astarion will bring up this idea once again. With a heroic Tav/Durge, Astarion feels safe. And he feels seen. Seen, for god’s sake. That’s huge.

This is where this narrative arc—about perception, about seeing him throughout the entire journey—finds its resolution. Astarion is truly more than what Cazador made him to be. He breaks free from the pattern of monster/vampire. He chooses to start living again. To rediscover himself. To reclaim his identity in the most human way possible—through the world and the people around him.

Perhaps his body has not regained its human traits, but spawn Astarion is, without a doubt, the Astarion who has reclaimed his humanity the most.

Just a take on Wyll's transformation (spoilers)

Can we talk about how when Mizora turns Wyll into his devil-ish form as a punishment... it's like really messed up? I get that it could have been much worse, but she literally violated his body irrevocably. Not for the first time. I'd probably have a panic attack if my body suddenly changed like that. Not to mention that him now looking this way is kind of devastating to the heroic, evil-fighting image he wants to present. It's like Mizora saying smugly: "who will look at you and think you're a hero when you look like *this*?" Because she knows how deep that would cut for him.

I've talked about this before, but I wish Wyll was allowed to have more moments that show that he's hurting, and I wish that his reaction to the transformation had more emphasis. Honestly his interaction at the Tiefling party is kind of heartbreaking. He basically says "you go on and enjoy the party without me. I'd just bring everyone down". Just another example of him keeping his feelings neatly tucked away for the sake of others. Wyll is going through so much in act 1 but it's portrayed so subtly compared to other characters that I think people overlook it.