#WIP mode

[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Prologue 1 to 3 (Act 1) (Spawn Astarion and Ascended Astarion Route)

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Note:

Spawn Astarion and Ascended Route will start with same prologue then it will be separate chapters as rest of fic progresses to represent both routes

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Notes:

A Baldur's Gate: Halsin x Astarion fic inspired by the game Baldur Gate 3 and watching ongoing playthrough of it on Youtube

Slight canon diverge with some made up Background stuff for Astarion and other characters

WIP mode as use the wiki fandom and playthroughs to get idea of characters

Title refers to how Astarion and Halsin join up with the rest of the *company ( *will be introduced in later on chapters) but also travel a path together which leads to something more.

Starts off with Astarion's P.O.V

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Prologue - 'A Pale Elf in a Grove' (1 of 3)

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Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun - Approaching Early Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

"Is Halsin a fool?!!! Why has he brought this 'thing' here!!!?"

"I do not know….it greatly concerns….Archdruid Halsin!!!… We…..yes…..we understand…."

Voices.

Whispering amongst themselves before going silent, footsteps fading into the distance of somewhere which smells moist, lush and fresh - like it's not been tainted by any pollutants - and movement of something large, warm and furry choosing to lay down beside me.

Why couldn't I remember what had happened? What even had happened? Had I been attacked by someone or something?

Those questions remain swirling around my aching head - like I been hit by something very heavy and large - that it is difficult to even force myself to wake up so can check my surroudings, only sink into deeper sleep like I'm being made to do it to help me heal. So different when my Master Cazador treated me - his more of punishment so cruel, unkind and harsh it border on machositic that he didn't really care how many times he hurt me.

I must have whimpered because a soft chuffing noise comes from the large, warm furry thing beside me with wet snout nudging me to force me to roll onto my side to face into a warm furry belly and chest of what scenting register is in fact bear at least I think it is. I want to wake, I need to wake.

But the drowiness is settling in so fast, a soothing calming wave washing over me that find myself relaxing for the first time in centuries, allowing myself to fall asleep against the warmth of the large bear beside me.

TIME SKIP

"Hnngh…..Gaahhh!!!?" It is the sensation of sunlight from above burning it's way up my exposed arm which forces me very rudely awake from the deep, healing slumber I had been placed under trying to get up when realise a large, muscular arm - human?…. No….scenting the air…..again….a Wood Elf - is over my waist effectively trapping me against a very muscular, large and naked Wood elf bearing a tattoo mark on one side of his face and horredenous, but oddly enough appealing scars from no doubt from being attacked on his face as well.

Concerned about promixity of our bodies, I shuffle my lower half backwards away from the Wood elf's groin area only to give out a yelp when the large hand which has been around my waist immediatly yanks me flush against the large, muscular chest forcing me to place both my hands on it - or more accurately on top of the Wood Elf's pecs on both their dusky hued nipples to my embarassment even though this unnamed Wood elf does look like a fine specimen.

The sudden hiss of sunlight touching my exposed skin causes me to thrash soon in their grip, managing to wriggle free to quickly roll over to the shadows.

Collapsing slump up against a base for a statue of a wolf carved from stone, I wince at the stinging ache from the sun-burn on my arm hoping my healing factor kicks in, only to notice the wood elf has woken up looking straight at me.

"It's alright, I won't harm you." the wood elf says, voice so deep, husky and soothing it sends a strange shiver through me at the sametime that luring scent of his sweet, smelling blood reaches me.

It is so tempting, I don't realise I prowled out of the shadows into a shaft of sunlight until I'm scrambling back into them cursing myself with my fangs unsheathing themselves, steam still rising from the sun-burnt wounds until finally wisping away and bits of my burnt skin turned to ash to flutter to the ground

"I…need you….to stay just there…" I warn them, only for them to ignore my warning coming over to kneel down in front of me taking hold of my wrist to pull my arm out straight investigating the damage, seeing when I turn my face to one side to wince with eyes slipping shut or peeking open slightly to watch what he's doing.

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Notes:

Title refers how unexpected emotions begin to form in Astarion that he's not used to and how he loses control to them and Halsin the same.

Third part will deal with introducing the Leader of the Party and their background, plus the start of the Mindflyer attack then moving into Act 1

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Prologue (2 of 3) - 'Losing Control to Unexpected Emotions Rising within One'

Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun - Early Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

Halsin – as the Druid or Archdruid to be precise of Emerald Grove is called – is an enigma of a Wood Elf, with most of his time discussing about Nature, protecting the Grove and in his spare time doing mostly mundane things which some to admit were interesting to know about:

his whittling of little carvings of animals so detailed it actually fascinated me to watch from afar doing his work; seeing him resist the temptation of honeyed treats being sold by travelling merchants that couldn’t resist haggling with them to include more of new variations every-time they came back to just watch his eyes sparkle and pretend he’s not drooling over them and finally, seeing him in his bear form allowing children to ride on his back.

Looking over to where he’s discussing something highly important with another Druid – a female Half-elf called Jaheira, who keeps on flicking her gaze over to me wariness showing in her eyes - probably about myself.

Deciding not to hang around, I keep myself to the large grove's shadows, avoiding the spots of sunlight to head to the extensive cave-system of the Emerald Grove.

Within the cave-system, I make my way down towards the halfling merchant - Arron - located nearby a Altar busy checking his wares he's ascertained from his travels.

He stiffens though, ears twitching side to side then turns his gaze to look at me leaning up against a rock pillar in the shadows causing him to give out a ‘Tch, it’s you’ turning to face me where crosses his arms over his chest.

“I told you already, Pale Elf, if you want to sample my wares find out who’s pickpocketing around here.” Arron states, forcing me to raise an eyebrow because it sounds like he's accusing me of being the one doing it.

"And you think I have something to do with it. Heh, I would not resort myself to such lowly act." I state back, slipping myself away deciding I need to go hunting to distract myself from the mutiple heartbeats that head up to the main entrance.

Reaching where the gate is, I stop myself just in time.

The sun has risen at it's highest peak meaning the gate area is completely flooded with light leaving no shadows for me to use to reach it.

Choosing to lean up against a pillar, I find myself looking over at it trying to ascertain whether make a dash for it or wait until nightfall to go hunting for Prey.

Tilting my head backwards, my mind floods to fact I've not felt any sense of my Master Cazador trying to will me back to the Lair where I took lured Prey - most ended up dead and flung into giant pit, others turned in Spawn like me or completely disappeared that even asking would have risked the ire of him so never asked.

"You seem lost in thought, silver-tongue." the disdaining, dripping tone of the female druidess half-elf Jaheira reaches my ears, I lower my head down un-leaning myself from the pillar I brush past her quickly refusing to even acknowledge when find myself suddenly yanked backwards by a glowing tendril of energy straight into large area of sunlight I'd been trying to avoid.

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“Jaheira, what have….you done…!!!?”

“You are too soft, Halsin. We cannot trust this, silver-tongue. You must have noticed how ‘it’ avoids the shadows!!!”

“That I already know. It doesn’t mean you act irrational by doing what you did.”

Shuddering into wakefulness, the first thing to reach my nostrils is the scent of wildflowers – a mixture of so many it takes time to list – with my eyes fluttering open to reveal I’m lying naked in a on a bed of vines and wildflowers entwined together in a cocoon with no sunlight penetrating it.

My acute hearing had picked up Halsin berating until finally blessed silence with me having to use my Predator senses to see how many heat signatures are outside of the healing cocoon – only one – with a gap appearing to reveal the large, wood elf.

Realising he may see the circular scar on my back, I try to move myself only for so much agony to shoot through my body I curl into myself with my bandaged hands wrapping around my bandaged waist shaking so much at it.

“Hgnnnhh…..shit…..shit…..”

Cursing under my breath, biting my bottom lip along with his large hands rolling me onto my back – checking me over – until finally a soothing healing wave from both his hands spreads over me. He is leaning over me in the process, I find myself eying the throbbing, pulsing vein in his neck that pumps his lifeforce within his body.

“Is something wrong?” He asks me, so suddenly I don’t know how to give a proper answer to him which may convince him I'm just appreciating his body and not his blood flowing in his veins.

"I…..umm…may I taste…." I begin to ask, only for him to sit back resting his hands on his lap finishing my sentence. "…to taste my blood." it makes me scramble upwards needing to leave only for him to take hold of me turning my chin to force my face into the crook of his neck.

"Drink."

A command, but not a forced, soft and gentle with myself fully turning in his arms to rest up against his large, muscular chest slipping my hand up cradle the back of his head to tilt his head backwards by his soft, hazel brown locks.

Fangs unsheathing themselves, I sink them straight in hearing him give out a stiffening grunt at it knowing he will react to the venom which will give a numbness and pleasured feeling to the Prey being subdued.

All is quiet, except for occasional soft grunts coming from each-time I take a sip of his blood until finally his large arms are pushing me back seeing how drunk I've become on the taste on it - a blush rising on my cheeks, lips coated still in some of it, that it is so addicting it is feat in me trying to avoid going back for more.

Instead, moving myself over him and placing one hand on his chest to push him down to lay flat on his back noting his hazel brown eyes ringed with gold looking up at mine. Putting my hands either side of his head, I bend down my head down to rest my forehead against his wondering should I do it, licking my lips.

“Thank you.” I tell him, finding weird saying it because I’m not used to saying it – I been ingrained in Master Cazador’s rules and have already broken one – before sealing my lips over his, feeling him stiffening underneath me only to respond with soft, equal fervour it is something part of me wants and other is rebelling at it.

I try to pull away, but he pulls me back into devouring my mouth with his own – lips changing position each-time to deepen the kissing between us both, his tongue flicking across them begging admittance so allow for it to happen.

My whole body quivers up against him.

The sensation of his large hands wrapping around my body, one cradling the back of my head and other resting on my back with his warm, moist tongue entwining with mine inside and outside my mouth makes me want to pull away from him.

Managing to release my lips from his, I gasp breathlessly with my face turned to one side willing myself to calm down - use the seductive techniques I use for Prey to take back to Cazador on him.

“Astarion…..look at me.” Halsin says, voice husky with arousal making me turn my face to look up at him seeing how affected he is – his pupils dilated, lips still swollen from our kissing and no doubt his aroused below – then continues to speak. “I…. don’t whether I can control myself in what happens next.”

Bringing both my hands up to cup his cheeks, looking up into those hazel brown eyes ringed gold I realise what is happening to me - I'm losing control to unexpected emotions rising up within me.

And it is frightening me.

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Notes:

Connected to Prologue (2 of 3) - 'Losing Control to Unexpected Emotions Rising within One'

Introducing Asdalen - a drow elf with Dark Urge Origins and also Halsin's Half-brother (more will be explained about that later in further one chapters) and Lesia, his adopted fae child; Asdalen will be the main leader of the party and romance partner will be Gale.

What happens to Astarion and Halsin will be told in flashback.

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Prologue (3 of 3) - 'When an Unexpected Event Separates Those Close to Others'

Location - Baldur's Gate, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands - 'Whispering Weave' Tavern near the Harbour - Approaching Mid-Morning 

12 DAYS LATER

Making my way through the streets of Baldur's Gate towards the 'Whispering Weave' Tavern, I keep an eye on Lesia who is running ahead - her wispy fae form so different from the various Baldurians and other travellers walking back and forth - of me.

My mind is thinking about my half-brother Halsin - an Archdruid of the Emerald Grove located in the Western Heartlands, Western Faerun - knowing it's been quite some time we have met up to discuss things or even talk properly.

Approaching the Tavern, which is near the Harbour, I see two people are walking down towards it - though one of them seems to be keeping mostly to the shadows I notice and the other I recognise is Halsin, who spotting me goes to say something when I finally reach the both of them only to bite his bottom lip which his companion notices before flicking his gaze over to me.

Lesia, spotting Halsin runs up to him to greet him and hold out her little hands to be lifted up by him.

I wait to see whether he will do it, part of me - an unknown, uncontrolled side whispers, 'Kill them both' and other horrendous things - and the more rational side - though don't know how long it will last - knows he can't deny her.

Finally, he bends down to lift her up, surprising his silvery white-haired companion beside him that approach though still with caution because it's been quite some time since seen him.

"Hello, little one." Halsin says, smiling softly with his companion - keeping to the shadows - admiring in their own way until finally turns their gaze to me.

Behind the white-bone mask I wear to cover my face a strange, prickling sense that I'm being analysed by a Predator hits me.

My own unknown Predator's senses soon wanting to confront back and tear their throat out.

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Astarion’s P.O.V:

Coming back to Baldur’s Gate after twelve days, I know at some point Cazador will send out my ‘siblings’ to collect me but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to do so as myself and Halsin walk through the marketplace close to the Harbour.

Stopping in the shadows of archway, Halsin turns to face me when sees I seem to be not my usual self – my body tone is showing wariness – so brings a hand up to cup my cheek to reassure me everything is alright with him being here for me.

Immediately resting my forehead against his, hands moving to rest own on his large, muscular chest it makes me realise the twelve days and nights we’ve shared together – his soft, breathless kisses he will give me; reassuring me when nightmares overwhelmed and finally, making sure my bloodthirst is sated – it has felt like freedom.

“I…don’t want to leave you….just yet….” I admit, knowing we must go our separate ways with him heading back to the Emerald Grove and myself back to my ‘prison’ kissing him soon on the lips where he uses his other hand to pull me flush up against him.

Around us the noises of the Harbour and the Marketplace reach my ears – Market stallers shouting out the wares; dock workers heading up and down ramps on ships delivering various goods back and forth and Baldurians going about their daily lives – but I’m not listening to it, just relaxing to kiss my ‘Mate’ is giving me.

Finally pulling back from it, licking my lips at his taste, I smile softly up to him slipping one hand down to clasp my fingers with his, while we soon begin to make our way to the Tavern called 'Whispering Weave' to share a last moment drink before going our separate ways.

Discovering that Halsin had a ‘brother’ of some kind is unexpected, because he never mentioned anything about having a family until now so meeting them – who wears long black thief clothing with hood included, plus bone-white mask hiding their face – along with a little fae child called Lesia, it is taking me some time to try and make sense of them.

I can tell they are like me almost – a Predator fighting their own instincts to attack the presence of another Predator in front of them.

Deciding to introduce myself is the better option of being silent and not saying anything to them.

“You have a beautiful child.” I comment, making them turn their gaze to me.

Body language still showing signs of wariness but relaxing enough to respond back to me.

“She’s….Thank you…Umm…” they begin to say, allowing me to introduce myself. “…Astarion Ancunin, a pleasure to meet you…”

“Asdalen.” They nonchalantly reply, causing Halsin to lower the little one wanting to say something but closes his month instead like he knows it may not help the both of them.

Torn between the awkwardness I’m sensing rising between them both, I decide to relieve it by deciding to say something which is mundane yet helps "I'm famished. How about we all get a bite to eat and all have a good chat together. Maybe even hear some of your lute music, Asdalen.' clapping both my hands together seeing how Lesia jumps up and down at hearing the words 'bite to eat' pulling her adopted father's sleeve.

Halsin having composed himself, slips his arm around my waist to pull me against his side and giving me a certain look of 'I didn't know you had an interest in music' it makes my chest ache at the look he gives me. The sudden thought is that I want to know everything about him - how he become Archdruid, what was his childhood like, how did he find out about his brother - and his brother.

Repair what feels like a fragile relationship between them which could easily be broken anytime.

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Location - Baldur's Gate, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands - 'Whispering Weave' Tavern near the Harbour - Mid-Morning

Asdalen’s P.O.V:

“Have you been travelling far?”

“Only to certain areas. There’s been some places refusing travellers entry.”

Drunken laughter, chatter and clinking of mugs fills the air with myself and Lesia sitting with Halsin and Astarion in an alcove at the far back of the Tavern where Astarion sitting next to my half-brother is asking me about my travels.

Most of what I tell him is about how on my travels where noticed Missing Poster had been appearing a lot; some places were wary of new travellers due to whispers about raise of Cultists and more monsters beginning to appear in certain areas.

“I see. To admit, I’ve not noticed….that kind of thing due….” Astarion begins to say only tail off, taking a sip of the wine he’s ordered with Halsin moving a hand to place it over his – squeezing it lightly to reassure the pale, High elf who gives weak smile.

‘You’ve been hiding in the shadows for too long.’ I state internally, not saying it out loud lest the Gur Hunters sitting only a few feet away from where we’re sitting overhear and come over to investigate.

Halsin, is happy. A soft, warm glow Lesia describes it to me in silent communication which reassures my brother will be alright in the relationship he has with Astarion leaving me to think of one person who I miss the most – Gale Dekarios, my lover and chosen Mate.

Where is he now?

Is he coping?

Has he returned to Waterdeep?

“Bard, do you play?” A new voice asks of me, leaving the internal questions in my head unanswered, so turn my face to the source seeing a figure wearing fine refine stands there indicating to the lute in the holder on my back.

“I play, yes. It depends on the crowd though and what they would like to hear.” I reply, seeing the newcomer raise one delicate eyebrow in amusement at it. “And you…. what would you like to hear?” asking them a question back to them.

“Me?! Well, let’s see…” They reply, bringing one hand up to tap their chin in deep thought until give small smirk at me. “How about an original composition. I believe this one should suffice ‘Beautiful Voice of the Past’ for you, Bard.”

A violent visible shudder goes through me, Astarion placing his hand on my arm to pull me back down into my seat – I hadn’t realised I had stood up to confront the newcomer – my mind torn in how they knew about the song – a song I composed only for Gale and no-one else – and who played it.

“I don’t play it for crowds.” I whisper under my breath, voice breaking with so much emotion I get back up with Lesia sensing I need to leave allowing me to pick her up.

Politely excusing myself when brush past the newcomer, I weave through the patrons and tables to reach the main Tavern door or would have if it hadn’t been for sudden explosion sending myself and her still in my arms flying backwards over the Tavern bar into the alcohol drink-rack hard.

Followed by tinkling noise of smashed apart bottles of wine, beer and brandy to name a few.

The wooden shelf collapses under my weight, forcing my body to fall to the floor in wounded, bleeding heap of a mess with Lesia beginning to whimper in my arms – her little fae body fading in and out focus due to being very frightened of what is happening – seeing the blurred image of the Tavern patrons running out in all directions only to be cruelly snatched up by what appear to be Mindflyers.

Another explosion rocks the tavern, sending shockwaves through the floorboards which begin to crack and splinter in all directions – sending shards of wood flying in all directions – feeling below me the wooden floor give out on myself with Lesia being wrenched out of my arms by something leaving me to fall into the blackness of the underground cellar.

The faint roars of my Brother’s Wildshape, Lesia crying out my name again and again reach me with Astarion lunging himself towards the collapsed hole made by the falling floorboards to grab hold of my wrist trying in vain to pull me back up – even though I can see he’s struggling due the wounds he’s ascertained.

“Asdalen, quick…..give me your other hand before the next wave hits!!!? It seems to be full-scaled attack on Baldur’s Gate!!!? We need….NO!!!! GET THE HELL AWAY ME…!!!!?” He cries out, only to panic heavily looking over at something or someone I cannot see due to my disadvantaged angle.

A fast, but to me blurred, inky-black shadow speeds it's over to him in such a blink of an eye to knock him over to the other side, leaving me with nothing to grab hold onto to help pull me back up to safety.

Falling for quite some time, I finally reach the bottom of what turns out to be the underground lower cellar for the Tavern with sickening, bone-crunching thud – worse agony than what my own people, the Drows have done to me – it shatters everything instantly, finding myself going limp at it immediatly.

So, this is how I die?

Separated from my half-brother who just met again?

I never got to even tell him…..everything……

Halsin…..Astarion……Lesia…

My thoughts wander in my head, my body is lying shattered beyond compare and any chance of moving is not probable with how serious my injuries are from the shards of glass embedded in it and large wood splinters.

My blood can distantly feel is pooling out from underneath my body or over it to trickle off it to cover the cobbled stones of the cellar in various array of crimson petals.

The unknown, uncontrolled side seems to be gleefully laughing in my head at the demise – death by falling, shattering every bone in my body and allowing my lifeforce to drain away.

It's the last thing I hear before blackness swoops in dark like raven’s wings and I remember nothing thereafter.

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[innermuse24]

Deadpool Movie Fanstory:

'The Consquences of Messing with Cable's Time-Traveling Device and What it Brings with It'

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Notes:

Cable - Nathan Summers/Deadpool - Wade Wilson

Based on the end part of Deadpool where he pinches/steals Cable's time-traveling device.

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PROLOGUE - When Deadpool Realises his Consquences Sort Of

Deadpool/Wade Wilson's P.O.V:

"WADEEEEEE!!!!?"

I'm in deep shit.

Literally deep shit at the moment having no time to react as Colussus - big, metal hunk of strength - grabs hold of me by the swords to pull me backwards to very pissed off Cable standing in the foyer of the X-Mansion hands on his hips glaring at me with both his normal eye and the golden one then flings me down at the older man's feet.

"Oh, hey…Cable. Miss me?" I ask him, rolling to lay on the floor in seductive pose with arm resting on my thigh for some reason making him glare at me - golden eye flashing heavily - and give a sheepish grin even though he can't see it because I'm wearing the red mask.

"Do you have any idea of what the fucking hell you have just done!!!!? You've just made sure you don't exist."

Oh, shit!!!!? I really should of listened to my inner reason voice. Oh, wait….I don't have one. Dumbass.

WAIT!!!? WHAT HAVE I DONE!!!!?

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PART 1 - Cable Confused about his Feelings and Deadpool just Winging it as they Go Along the Way to Fix One's Timeline

Deadpool/Wade Wilson's P.O.V:

Megasonic-Teenager-Warhead or whatever her name was seems to want to kill me slowly and painfully and she may have to get into line because of Cable as I find myself staring at my de-aged self without looking like what be considered by a friend "When a pineapple had sex with Avocodo." and more like when I met Wolverine after he called "That you, Wade. I see Stryker managed to shut you up." making me remember that soon the all of me would disappear if we didn't hurry to sort it out.

This would be so embarrassing. It would mean I would have to make sure my parents met, fucked and soon had me appearing in their already hectic lives then meeting Vanessa, falling in love and killing what-his-face again then saving Russel from being killed by Cable from the future, which Cable - The one standing at the doorway right now. Yeah, I know Stalkerish don't you think or does he like my ass in red? - says I will have to face himself alone and that may just help my timeline realign itself.

"Are you just going to stare at yourself in that mirror like…the Diva you are or ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING HURRY YOUR ASS OVER!!!" Cable shouting the rest of the words, meaning he is still pissed as hell at me for messing with his Time-travelling device.

"Okay, calm yourself, Honey. I'm just coming, let me apply my makeup; lace thongs and corset then high-heels and we're ready to go." I reply, seeing cough heavily to hide…Was that a blush on Cable's face?..and placing the mask back down skip up to him for some no-apparent reason but because I feel like it.

"Shut up. Just let's go." He say, trying not to look me in the eye and leaning close to him go to peck him on the cheek when he places his hand on my face stopping me making me give a muffled protest at it.

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Afterwards with Dopinder - my dear cinnamon murder muffin - driving us in what was now affectionally called the Deadpool-Mobile, I look back at Cable looking out of the back passenger window with his large, muscular arms crossed over his chest.

Deciding he needs some company, I unbuckle my seat-belt to clamber into the back wriggling slightly in my process to squeeze through the gap between

Settling down, I smooth any crinkles in my suit and moving myself lay my head down on his lap making him tense slightly then flick his gaze down to me, clenching his fist slightly only to sigh heavily and un-clench it.

“I don’t why I even bother.” He says, surprising me at his choice of words that sit up to twist myself around to face him seeing how he's blatantly refusing to look at me. "You....just decided to take it and think what 'It be good idea to change the past, let's go' and not realise....fuck it....why do I put up with you."

"Uhh, Cable.....maybe it's because you enjoy my company." I tell him jokely, only to see he's blushing that sitting myself up, lean closer to check I'm actually seeing his face turning a wonderful shade of red.

The punch in the face is expected that comes straight after I lean into his personal space feels like 'Worth it' hearing Dopinder signing softly in the driver's seat at the antics going on in the back of the taxi.

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[unknownmusing]

A gift FNAF Fic Snippet for @arkarti'

'The Killer in a Suit'

Notes:

still deciding title so this one might be temporary for wee while

Have not played any of the Games

Inspired by Arkati's artwork

1 of yet undecided parts

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PROLOGUE - 'The Guy in the Purple Suit'

Your friends had decided to take you to swanky, new Nightclub that had just opened up in your hometown to celebrate you getting a new job even though you had been embarrassed stating they didn't need to - it was only working at a Pizzeria.

But now, here you were in the swanky, new Nightclub with it's plush interior in shades of purple ranging light to dark which one would think would clash if weren't for whoever had chosen the design had managed to make it work.

You oddly get hint they really....like....purple and bunnies.

Your friends around you in the booth are laughing, chatting amongst themselves and sharing drinks - so in way not really celebrating you getting a new job - then you feel it.

The hairs on the back prickling - your being watched by someone. But who? And why?

You look around, your gaze scanning the rest of the patrons until lands on far corner booth where a man sits wearing a suit of dark purple, tie loosened and hanging around his neck with shirt collar unbutton - three buttons - exposing his chest slightly, while one arm casually rests on the back of the plush leather booth seat.

His gaze landing straight on you - the guy in the purple suit is looking straight at you.

No-one else, not your friends or other patrons.....

....Just you....

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Notes:

Introduction of one Mr. William Afton

@arkarti

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PART 1 - 'The Name is Mr. Afton'

A few days later after that moment in the swanky, new nightclub your friends had taken you too, your now heading to work for your first day at the Pizzeria just across and down a street from where the swanky, new Nightclub is located.

You stand outside for moment looking at the faded Pizzeria building, wondering if you got the right place when see the man from the swanky, nightclub is sitting on crate with arm resting on another crate he leans against.

The man is smoking a cigarette - the wisps rising up in the Autumn air - wearing a white security outfit unbutton a bit with black tie still knotted loosened a bit and leather gloved hand resting on one of his spread legs.

You make your way over, seeing how he brings his other leather gloved hand up to take drag from the cigarette - the embers briefly glowing as he does so - before blows wisp of smoke upwards into cold air.

Then his gaze flicks to you, instantly, like he knew you were already there. For moment you hold gazes until you realise your staring too much, that to cover your embaressment to fake cough.

"Apologises, I'm looking for..." You begin to say, then realise you just name blanked in the person who employed seeing the man raise an eyebrow at you when lowering the cigarette down.

"Yes?" the man encourages, waiting. You get a hint he doesn't have patience in waiting if you take too long in answering.

"Umm....are you..." You begin to ask, faltering already that the man calmly gets up, still holding the cigarette as walks over to you.

His footsteps though so quiet, it's like an eerie stillness, when he approaches before stands in front of you.

"The name is Mr. Afton." the man states at you, taking a long drag from his cigarette, before he blows out a wreath of white smoke, which instantly swirls around you briefly before disippating into thin, curling wisps.

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William in a fancy suit part 04 😳 | More studies

Twitter: X

[an-established-butt-dent]

I'm a bald Solas lover I swear!!!!

—> Process video under the cut because of flash warning.

[cryptidclownz]

[gleefulclown]

This two>>>

Im colouring this one hehe

[holidaybagels]

mcsm art uhmm

[salamispots]

some downtime doodling

[i-eat-mold]

Y’all are not ready for the next thing I’m cooking up

[deoidesign]

when your main characters start dating after years of writing so they finally get to be like this

[yudol-skorbi]

its mox vachina day

[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Part 2 - 'Beginning of the First Path' (Act 1) (Ascended Astarion Route)

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2 DAYS LATER

Location – Shattered Sanctum, Ruined Temple – Western Heartlands – Early Afternoon

Asdalen’s P.O.V:

“Place him with the bear. Maybe he will make a good meal for it.”

“You heard Lady Minthara…Take him to the cage..”

Harsh, grating multitude of voices reach through unconscious haze, forcing me into a sharp awareness I’ve been captured and brought to somewhere with a screeching noise of cell door being opened indicating I’m about to be imprisoned.

Fluttering my eyes open, blurry vision of something brown, large and furry in the far corner of the cell comes into my line of sight with suddenly the large goblin who been dragging me flings me in with one single throw not even caring when I land on the harsh, uneven surface of the stone floor with a sickening thud – the injuries I had ascertained from somewhere soon making themselves known.

A clattering of my mask landing beside makes me scramble to grab hold of it, praying that Lesia is around somewhere and she is safe from harm – she would start to become extremely agitated if separated from me and could easily harm people around her – quickly slipping it back on.

“Oh, so you’re a Drow with a bit of history are we….” The Hobgoblin sneers out, forcing my eyes to widen heavily lifting my head straight up to see in cracked ornate mirror at the back of the cell my face is being shown in various angles – but enough to make out the details on it. “…Asdalen Wryric, the Snake of Faerun.”

 -----------------

Location – Shattered Sanctum, Ruined Temple – Western Heartlands – Early Afternoon

Astarion’s P.O.V:

“Out the way.”

“But….Lady Minthara, we’s were only playing with him…”

“Enough….Out of my sight and go find Ragzlin, you brats.”

A voice, female speaks pushing the goblin brats who’ve surrounded me out the way, a ashen-grey hand reaching to haul me up by hair off up from the hard, stone cold floor of the ruined Temple  – my mind trying not think of memories of being trapped in the ‘kennel’ where Godey, would watch and wait for ample time to strike –  that try not show a wince on my features.

Vision clearing, it reveals the person holding my head by my hair is a female drow with braided white hair, distinct ashen-grey mixed with gold highlights and a harsh, cold face with her other hand grabbing hold of my chin tightly.

She turns it to side to side to analyse the details of it, until forcing it back to look at her.

“Hmm….How did you get here, elf?” She asks me, making me go to give back a sarcastic retort to her question when a sharp, blinding pain shoots through my head and memories not my own filter through my mind – I realise, suddenly, they are her memories.

She releases my hair, wrenching away like I’ve burned her – maybe in a way I have with whatever that telepathic connection wave had been made. She glares down at me, while another figure appears, a large red Hobgoblin, to stand beside her.

“You called for me, Minthara. What bothers you?” the Hobgoblin states, large red arms crossing over their large, muscular chest – a beady eye flicking over my rugged appearance - with me, wondering if should try to create a diversion to escape.

--------------------------------------------

[innermuse24]

Hannibal (TV Series: The Menu AU - Fanstory: 'The Feast'

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Summary: Will and his wife, Molly Graham-Foster, receive an invitation from the Famous Chef, Hannibal Lecter, to come to the Island of Varnas to celebrate the opening of his new restaurant "The Ravenstag" where also found out they are not the only ones who have been invited.

The reason being is Hannibal knows all their secrets they hide.

So begins a series of who is telling the truth? What is gain behind all of this and how is Will connected to the mysterious Head Chef known as Hannibal Lecter?

-----------------------------

Notes:

Inspired by the film trailer of the film 'The Menu' a black comedy horror, involving the actor Ralph Fiennes.

Invitation, Guest List and Menu created using Canva.

For @apastandfuturenerd , @hannibalsimago , @thewitchofstjohns​ and the rest of fannibals out there. 

-----------------------------

PART 1 - The Invitation and a Link to One's Forgotten Memories'

A cold, bitter snap is hanging in the air when Will Graham comes up the Hunting Cabin path, close to the frozen lake covered in thick ice and snow closely followed by pack of dogs, carrying in both of his hands a bundle of chopped wood for the fire, while sees waiting on the cabin porch is his wife - Molly Foster-Graham - holding two mugs in her hands.

"Got some more chopped logs for the fire." Will tells her, coming up the wooden steps to head inside where he places the chopped logs close to the fireplace where a fire is gently crackling in the hearth in the log basket, while the group of dogs - except for one, a golden mongrel retriever who waits near the doorway cocking it's head to one side to watch Will doing the task - come in, heading to the various dog beds that scattered about in the dining/sitting area. 

"You're such a darling, Will Graham." Molly says to him, making Will softly smile and getting up heads back outside onto the porch, stopping to bend down to greet Winston who wags his tail in delight at getting some attention from him.

"Hmm..." 

Continuing to give Winston skritches and rubs, Will wonders why that word 'darling' felt so familiar to him - had someone said it to him in the past maybe.

He didn't know the answers, because most of his past memories were so fractured that when he had asked Doctors about it they had said it make a take very long time before certain memories return to him because having been diagnosed with long-term amnesia.

Whether he would ever get answers he didn't know. And even if he did would they even make sense.

---------------------------------------------

Lying under the duvet cover of the king-size bed, Will finds for some unknown reason that he cannot sleep, so he rolls to lay on his back staring up at the wooden beamed cieling wondering what had woken him up. 

Had it been the strange dream again that he continued on having about a strange, mysterious creature with the body of a large stag and raven feathers covering every inch of it's body padding through a forest of tall needle-shaped trees, the autumn leaves having already fallen off them crunching under Will's bare feet and the distant sound of ravens cawing as they flew overhead in the white sky above.

Hearing Molly shifting beside him, he realises he must have woken her up so goes to turn his face to say something only notices she is checking her phone for the time - because of being small-time vet, his wife had early shifts so doubt she was checking to see if there any messages about her upcoming shift - then mutters something under her breath, before pulling her side of the duvet cover back to slip out of bed.

She says nothing, instead heads out to the bathroom leaving Will deciding he needs to make a hot cup of coffee so sliding out of the bed, picking up his threadbare night-gown to wrap around himself - one which Molly said that at some point he would gave to throw out and get a new one - and heads downstairs to the kitchen area in the dining/sitting area about to flick on the small kitchen lamp when something like paper being shoved under the door makes him look up seeing briefly the shadow of figure disappearing of the porch.

The strange thing was that the dogs hadn't barked when it had been slid under the gap of the cabin door, so heading over bends down to pick it up seeing when he turns it over his and Molly's name written in ornate script. 

Who would be writing to them?

There was no-one he really knew that would write a letter to them like this?

Most of Molly's friends emailed or sent postcards or parcels, but never a letter with ornate script on it. 

Puzzled by it, Will gets back up with it in his hand at the sametime Molly is coming downstairs towelling her damp hair dry with a small towel then stills at the sight of him holding the letter.

"What is it? Has someone sent us a letter or something?" She asks him, heading over to put the kitchen light on so can see what she is doing and placing the letter on the kitchen counter for her to see, Will decides to light the fire in the hearth to warm up the dining/sitting area.

"I don't know. Do you recognise the handwriting?" He replies, asking her whether it was familiar seeing how briefly she almost seems to recognise it - whether it been a trick in the dimmed kitchen light that her eyes had widened with shock and fear - before shaking her head at him. 

"No. Can't say I recognise it, Will." 

Accepting the answer for now, Will begins to build up the fire listening to steady whistling of the boiling of the kettle, the clinking of mugs being taken out of the cupboard and the dogs shifting in their sleep in the dog beds before settling back down again. 

"I see you later, alright. Don't forget to pick up Wally from his friend's house."

"What was the address again?"

"You forgotten?!"

"I....No....I mean...Yes...but..."

"Oh, Will. Here's the address. I'll see you later, alright!!!"

Sitting in the armchair close to the fireplace, Will once more looks at the letter which is his wife, Molly had said she didn't recognise the handwriting - but yet why would her eyes show fear and shock at the sight of it? Why had she lied to him? - then slitting the letter open, sees lying within is an invitation card, a guest list and a menu - well if one could really call it that it was more drawings of food representing what might be on it. 

--------------------------------

Looking at this, he finds himself complementing who would be sending this to him and Molly. 

Why were they both being invited to the opening of restaurant he had never heard of? 

And just, who was this mysterious Head Chef called Hannibal Lecter and why did the name sound so familiar to him - like in his forgotten past maybe had known this person?

--------------------------------

Notes:

Flashback in italics

Reference in the flashback Hannibal experiencing an illness which still affects him

-----------------------------

PART 2 - ' A Memory of a Past of One's Lover and Introduction to the Chef' (1 of 2)

A figure walks calmly on a long stretch of beach, listening quietly to the waves going back and forth across the sand and pebbles combined on the beach before reaches the sand-dunes covered by the swaying sea-grass where at the top of one of them a man sits on a wooden bench made from some driftwood busy sketching the view in front of them.

"Hannibal, there you are. Abigail called to say that she will be able to travel on Wednesday to visit us."

Turning his head, Hannibal Lecter - famous chef, once known for hosting amazing dinner parties at his Baltimore, Maryland Restaurant before a fateful incident had made him take a hiatus to head to the Island of Varnas - looks at his fiancé-to-be.

 Placing the pencil down in the margin of the sketchpad, he closes it to place to one side out the way before shifting on the driftwood bench to allow Will to sit down beside him.

"Are you alright?" Will asks him, taking hold of both his hands to rub some warmth with Hannibal weakly smiling that is fiancé-to-be is concerned about his health.

"I'm fine, Myilamis, just...." Hannibal replies, indicating his heart then fisting his hand into his coat to indicate gripping pain.

"You're heart has been troubling you, Should I book another appointment with the mainland Doctor?"

Lifting his head having it lowered it to look at the special wedding ring he had chosen for Will on his fiancé-to-be finger, he goes to shake his head in reply when a cough rising up makes him place a hand to his mouth where the coughing becomes more heavier feeling something more than spit cover his hand. 

Shakily pulling it back, he sees that crimson petals cover it completely before another bout of coughing happens, distantly hearing Will shouting for Chiyoh - who have been watching them from the cabin attached to the new restaurant being built - to get the boat ready and that they are taking Hannibal to the Hospital on the mainland immediately.

"Will....wait..." Hannibal tries to say, only to collapse against Will's chest as blackness sweeps into his vision covering it completely, while he swears he can hear raven cawing in the far distance before remembers nothing thereafter. 

Shooting his eyes open, Hannibal Lecter, reaches a hand up to pull the plastic oxygen mask steadily supplying him with fresh oxygen so his lungs didn't fail on him off before sitting up trembling heavily. 

Why had his mind made him experience such cruel memory?

His darling Myilamis was gone, buried six foot under close to their favourite viewing point on the Island of Varnas.

So, why?

---------------------------

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Oh ho ho! Appears Siegfried owns both riding boots AND half chaps / gaiters, as seen here. Which I absolutely can make, myself!

(Also note the production in Episode 1 changes his base from shoes to ankle boots once he gets to the paddock, ha ha. Must have learned that muck was going to get in that shoe gap.)

Compare to early 1900s half chaps seen above. Siegfried's pair has an extra buckle, but otherwise appear to be this one-piece wrap design.

This style of half-chaps makes sense for the character, given his service in WW1. See these WW1 cavalry gaiters:

Here's his riding boots, for comparison. A very similar look, but 3 buckles and it's all one boot, instead of a covering.

Similar boots are still produced today, but at $1,700 USD, a bit rich for my blood, especially given I am not currently riding:

I'll be able to make the half-chaps for under $50, just need to check if I have the correct weight leather in my stash. For best results, I'll need to pattern these to my own legs, but I am stoked to turn out a pair!

[realvermin]

I need her so bad like ACTUALLY SO bad.my god GIVE ME ONE CHANCE CHAMPION PETRA PLEASEEEEE 🙏🙏 im so unwell

[perikiro]

I really wanted to draw them in these outfits ♡♡♡