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bg-brainrot · 1 year ago

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Unraveling Plan Meet Immeasurable Insecurity (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Rating: Teen

Summary: Tav tries their damnedest to propose, only to be rebuffed by Astarion at every single turn.

Tags: Astarion POV - alternating w/Rogue!Tav, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Marriage Proposal, Mild Hurt/Comfort, insecurities

A/N: based on a request from a kind anon on Tumblr– "Would you ever consider writing a one-shot where Tav tries to propose to Astarion but keeps failing multiple times. But Tav doesn’t give up and raises the stakes higher and higher. Astarion will completely remain oblivious because he still has some self esteem issues (why would anyone want to marry him?) and is really confused why Tav is acting nervous around him."

I ended up taking it in a slightly different direction (based on the man’s self esteem issues as you pointed out, anon). Set an undetermined amount of years post BG3, post saving Karlach from Zariel, post-Lae’zel finishing the githyanki uprising so the gang's all here. I hope the kind anon still enjoys it!

Word count: ~5.6k

Astarion first has an inkling that something is the matter when you sneak away from him.

Odd, he thinks, watching your retreating back. Usually they invite me along for this sort of skulking about.

But he understands, better than most, what a bit of privacy could afford someone who hasn’t had any in so long. So he watches you leave, pretending all the while that he hasn’t noticed a thing. Best not embarrass them, of course.

He brushes off the incident as an anomaly– after all, you continue to be your usual self upon your return. Neither of you speak of your absence, and you seem rather pleased with yourself, so he is pleased for you.

The next time he notices something is off he grows a tad more worried.

This time you don’t disappear, but you do spend a concerning amount of time staring at his hands, expression pensive.

“Darling,” he starts. He quickly tucks his hands under the Elfsong table that you both sit at and leans forward. “What are you doing?”

You blanch at the question– an uncharacteristic reaction to be sure. “Oh,” you sound startled, as if you’ve been caught doing something quite naughty. “Nothing at all. Just wondering if you’d done anything new with your nails? They look… nice.”

It’s a lie, that much is clear to Astarion. But it’s not typical that you lie so poorly. And why should you lie? No matter, you look flustered and gods does he love it when you look flustered– it happens so rarely that he feels the need to truly relish it. “Don’t they?” he asks, flourishing his hands in front of you now. “How did you know? I dipped them in an essence of ooze to thoroughly moisturize them.”

“Really?” Your bewilderment almost brings a laugh out of him.

“Gods no, my dear,” he says, reaching out from under the table and for your hands. “You seem quite out of sorts. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, staunchly avoiding eye contact with him.

Odd, he thinks again. Where is their usual daring now?

He’s forced to dismiss the thought as you flag down a waitress, ordering yourselves another bottle of wine.

Astarion becomes genuinely concerned when you return home late one night.

The two of you have grown comfortable together in your house, just on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate, in a cozy corner of Rivington. The location allows you to continue your work with the guild, gives him plentiful access to any criminals that needed exsanguinating, and your former companions are never far.

It does mean that you will sometimes stay late in the city, working well into the sunlight hours– but you also know to send him a message on the days you stay out late. Otherwise your poor, beautiful vampire will waste away in worry.

“Where in the nine hells are they?” Astarion curses aloud on this particular dawning day. He’d tried sending a message to you, only to receive nothing back. He’d sent another to Shadowheart, again to silence. He considers trying someone less responsible like Karlach, when you finally burst through the front door.

“Oh! Astarion,” you say, surprise plain on your face. As if he wouldn’t be here, in your shared home no less, waiting for your arrival. “What are you still doing up?”

He watches you silently for a moment as you tuck something behind your back, straighten out uncomfortably. Then, with all of the annoyance he can muster, he rolls his eyes at you. “It’s lovely to see you too, my dear. It’s not as if I was worrying my gorgeous head off at the thought of you dead in some rank Baldurian gutter.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, shuffling around the room in a rather suspicious manner. “I lost track of time. I figured you would go to bed without me.”

Astarion can’t remember the last time he went to bed without at least knowing where you were. Even if he could, he suspects he really would rather not. “Darling, you know I need my warm-blooded lover by my side to enter my reverie. Besides, what could have possibly taken you so long?”

You hesitate, and something tugs at Astarion’s insides. He feels a sudden sense of fear, a dread that he may regret asking you this question.

What if you’re upset at him, and this was your way to maintain space? What if you’ve finally, rationally taken a look at your situation and determined that no, you’d really rather not love a monster like himself? Or worse, what if you’d found someone else, someone who could bask in the daylight alongside you? Gods, the idea sends his undead heart plummeting.

Just as you’re about to open your mouth to answer, he rescinds his question, “Nevermind. I don’t want to know. I merely wanted to make sure you were alive. You’re looking as sprightly as ever, so I shall head to bed.”

He doesn’t wait for your response, heading to bed in a dramatic swirl and even more sensational thoughts.

He’s right, he knows it to his core. You’ve found someone else, someone who can give you the life he never could. More than anything he wishes he had the courage to confront you, especially as all of your odd behavior clicks into place.

They snuck off to find a lover.

They were staring at my hands in the hopes that they were someone else’s.

They stayed out late to relish in another’s company.

They’re aloof because they’re leaving me and it’s all a matter of time.

It’s as plain as day. How could he have been so very, very blind?

You had concocted a nice, simple plan.

It involved a ring, a smattering of your closest friends, and a particularly prickly vampire. Ideally, the plan ended with the vampire agreeing to marry you.

Gods. The idea thrills you as much as it scares you: you are actually going to propose to Astarion.

After years together, you and Astarion are practically already married. This is merely a formality in your mind. But of course, for a man like Astarion, it's a formality that means only the utmost effort must be put in.

But, as it always goes in your life, your nice, simple fell apart.

The problem you're finding is that, after weeks of preparation and secretive planning, the man is being oddly distant. Distant and dismissive. It's almost as if he knows something is afoot, and he's utterly determined to make sure it doesn't happen.

Five times now he has thwarted your attempts at a proposal.

"Astarion," you had started the first time. "Would you like to take a walk in the park with me tonight?”

The look he’d given you was equal parts wary and panicked. So much so that you thought maybe you’d misspoken. But his response was measured enough. “No, thank you, darling. I’m afraid I’m quite spent today.” He gave you a yawn to illustrate his point, and you dropped the subject for the night.

You had had to send a message to Shadowheart to call off the trail of poisonous flowers that your friends were laying out for your stroll.

The next time, you had tried being a bit more casual in your attempt.

“Would you enjoy a day at the spa, Astarion?”

Again, he gave you a look that confused you. Frightened face, hackles raised– his only response was, “Why, darling, do I look that ghastly to you?”

“You know that’s not what I–”

“No matter,” he’d waved you off. “I am afraid I’m busy today.”

You’d sent a message to Karlach, telling her that the reservation of Baldur’s Gate’s spa was no longer needed.

The third time, you’d called in some more magical help.

“Astarion, what do you say to a moonlit picnic atop the roof of the Elfsong? We haven’t had one in a while.”

Appalled– utterly and truly aghast is the only way to describe the face he’d made. The words that followed didn't make you feel better either. “And why would we do that again after such a long while?”

Your stomach had roiled, worry settling in at his tone. “I thought it would be a chance to reminisce together.” Your tone stayed light, your smile just as friendly.

“It’s far too cold to bother with reminiscing,” he’d said, glowering at you. Looking at the hard set of his jaw, this is when you’d begun to worry that you’d done something to upset him.

“Is everything alright?” you’d asked, reaching out for his arm.

“It’s fine,” he’d replied, curtly, retreating from your grasp. “I just don’t want to be colder than I already am.”

You’d sent a message to Gale, instructing him to call off the magical skywriting over the Elfsong.

For your fourth attempt, you knew you needed someone with a slightly more forceful personality– and to perhaps lean a little less romantic.

“Astarion,” you’d begun, inflecting your tone with just the right amount of panic. “Lae’zel’s found a flock of mephits along the beach of Wyrm’s Crossing. She needs our help.”

“Mephits?” he’d asked, looking at you cautiously. “In Wyrm’s Crossing?”

“Yes,” you’d replied, nodding hurriedly. “We need to go now.”

He’d clicked his tongue at you and shaken his head. “As if Lae’zel couldn’t crush them all with a single swing. Seems to me like she’s grown lazy after all of her heroics.”

“Astarion,” you’d chided. “You know she will incredibly cross at us if she finds out you declined to help.”

“I’ll survive,” he’d said, returning to the book on his lap, hands turning paler than usual in a tense vice grip. “Probably.”

After, you’d sent a message to Lae’zel, instructing her to do as she pleased with the stash of fireworks on the beach.

The fifth time you’d grown genuinely, truly worried that something was wrong with Astarion because, by the gods, the man had refused to commit crime with you.

After so many failed attempts, you’d figured that you needed to go back to the roots of your relationship– to a simpler time when petty theft gave you some time alone together.

“I heard a rumor through the guild,” you’d said offhandedly over dinner. “A newly minted noble in the Upper City has quite the horde of wealth and very little security. What do you say that we pay them a visit, perhaps ‘relieve’ them of some of their wealth?”

Astarion had faltered, clearly tempted by your offer. But after nearly two weeks of avoiding going anywhere with you, he didn’t outright agree either. “And why would you need me for this particular job?”

The question had taken you aback. You’d never needed a reason to invite him along for crime of all things. It made you near certain that he knew what you were up to and that something about it was distasteful to him. Sweet hells, it made you nervous. “I, erm… well, I could use an extra pair of hands to carry it all, I suppose?”

“I could lend you my pack then,” he’d said, narrowing his eyes at you.

Why is he trying to avoid me? Have his feelings changed? you’d thought in fear. Aloud, you’d only doubled down. “Well, the company might be nice. And you know that your lockpicking is, somehow, better than mine.”

“I thought you said security was sparse,” he’d countered.

“Sparse doesn’t mean nonexistent.”

“Not much of a challenge then, is it?”

You had wanted to scream into the astral plane. Wanted to flip the table over his pretty pale face. Wanted to tell him, ‘You know what, I didn’t want to marry such a stubborn vampire anyway!’ – but you did none of those things. Because you love this man and, even when he’s being difficult, you do want to marry him.

So you had gritted your teeth and said, “Very well then. I shall borrow your pack.”

You’d sent a message to Wyll later to call off his father’s help with the upper city guards.

For your sixth attempt, you decide you first need to reconvene with your council– also known as your former companions.

When you’d first met with them at the start of this whole ordeal, you’d snuck away from Astarion. It made you feel a bit guilty, sneaking around, hiding things from him, but the entire proposal was meant to be a fun surprise– one you are starting to suspect is a misguided effort.

You profess as much aloud now that you’re meeting up with the five of them again, seated around the table in Jaheira’s kitchen. “Maybe there is no sixth attempt. Maybe I’ve overestimated the love between us.”

“Don’t say that,” Wyll says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly in reassurance. “Your love is strong. And together we will find a way to make this proposal work.”

You smile up at the man, one always so willing to believe in the power of a good love story. You’re almost sorry to be disappointing him– and the smut peddlers. Really, you’re sorry to be disappointing all of your friends. Each of your companions had been eager to help you in your endeavor, in their own ways, of course.

Gale had congratulated you prematurely at first, misunderstanding your Sending spell. But when you’d clarified, asked him for his help, he’d only been incredibly enthused, arriving the very next day, offering all manner of suggestions.

Karlach, for her part, was only ever excited, practically bouncing off the walls that two of her best mates may potentially tie the knot. At the low, low price of allowing her to be your person of honor, she was entirely at your disposal.

Lae’zel had been confused initially. In her mind, you were already committed to a life together. What was the purpose of this… proposal? Of marriage? But when you’d explained to her a bit, she’d been curious– and excited at the potential of catching Astarion off guard.

Shadowheart had seemed surprised when you’d asked. You weren’t already married? Alas, she’d gotten the plot of one of the many bawdy novels about you confused with real life. No matter, she was happy to help.

And, well, Wyll– when he returned from Avernus he’d been disappointed that you weren’t at the very least engaged yet. It was no shock or awe to him when you visited him for help. In fact, he had only given you a wry smile and said, “I knew you would be the one to cave.”

As for Jaheira, well, she was allowing you to use her house as a headquarters, but had proclaimed early, “Invite me to the wedding and I shall be there, but until then– well, this is for you lot to figure out.”

And gods were you having trouble figuring it out.

“I don’t know, Wyll. I’m worried Astarion may never revert back to normal at this rate,” you say, shaking your head.

“Was he ever normal?” Shadowheart asks with a soft snort. “Besides, he can be awfully dense at times, you may just need to ask him outright.”

“There is not a single realm in which Astarion says yes to a simple proposal,” you say, brows furrowing. “You know he’d want something flashy.”

Gale raises a finger sagely before countering, “Well, my friend, sometimes what we want and what we need are two different things. I’m inclined to agree that you may just need to pop the question.”

“What if…” you trail off, your worries from the past weeks bogging down your thoughts. Somehow, despite everything you’ve been through, this seems to be your toughest challenge yet. “Do you think he knows what I’m doing and is simply too afraid to reject me?” you ask the group, turning to each of them with pleading eyes. You’re honestly not sure you can take his rejection, especially after the last five rebuffs.

“Not a chance in the hells,” Karlach answers. “I think he’s being a right idiot, actually. And if he knew what was happening, he may even say yes before you can so much as get the question out.”

“Really?” Your mood lightens a bit, her harsh words slashing through the hardened doubts that have settled over your heart.

“Is it any surprise to us that Astarion is incapable of seeing the truth before him?” Lae’zel says, rolling her eyes. “Such sharp skills, yet completely dull in the face of our efforts.”

“Again, we may just need a softer touch,” Shadowheart suggests, tilting her head at you.

You’re not sure what a softer touch might be, and, from the silence that follows, neither are any of your companions.

Your resident wizard is the first to break the silence. “I could always create a simulacra–”

“Gale,” Wyll interjects, politely. “I’m afraid I don’t think that’s much softer.”

“Right,” Gale says, leaning back in his seat.

Another long moment of silence and you’re truly starting to feel defeated. You hang your head a bit, thoughts filled with the image of a certain beautiful, pale elf’s mouth curling at you in distaste, forming a pronounced ‘no.’

“Soldier,” Karlach starts. You look up to see her smirking at you. “If he won’t willingly join you anywhere. I think we both know what you need to do.”

–

They are going to sink the final nail in the metaphorical coffin.

For nearly two weeks now, Astarion has successfully avoided his lover’s attempts to get together in a public space– likely what they saw was the best, most civil way to dispose of him. But, foolish as it is to cling to something like a withered love, Astarion doesn’t want this relationship to end.

Perhaps, if I can do this for long enough, they will change their mind, he thinks. Gods, that sounds pathetic, even for him.

Astarion was running out of excuses, and, worse yet, running out of willpower. What is the use in fighting the inevitable? he thinks, as he walks down the streets of Baldur’s Gate. It’s a moonlit night, and he’s on the prowl for a criminal to bite– he needs something, anything to distract him from his woes.

He turns the corner, on high alert.

Then again, a more selfish part of him counters. Why shouldn't you fight for your love? They were the first good thing to ever happen to you in this damned world.

That’s when he spots them– the-first-good-thing-to-ever-happen-to-him is hiding behind a bush directly before him, facing another alleyway. There are very few reasons that they would be out at this time of night, in the middle of this particular street of Baldur’s Gate. While they could be on a mission for the guild, he had last seen them at home, reading by the fire. It’s clear that they followed him, are waiting to ambush him.

Is this it? he thinks, eyes narrowing. His chest hurts, more than ought to be possible given his lack of beating heart. Is this how desperate they are to be rid of me? May as well go out with flair, I suppose…

Astarion sneaks forward, careful to remain outside of your field of view. He settles behind you in the darkness of the bush, watching you as you look out for him. Despite the ache in his heart, the clenching of his stomach, he can’t help but think of how lovely you look under the moonlight– of how lucky he has been to have had you.

If this truly is it, he thinks. I can’t wallow or cry. I shall hold my head high and consider myself fortunate to have met them. To have loved them. At least, he hopes he’s capable of such a performance. Because right now, quietly crouched next to you, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to beg you to reconsider.

But no. He refuses to look pathetic– not after the life he has lived.

So, after waiting with you for a few minutes, he leans forward into your personal space and asks, “Darling, what are you doing?”

Astarion is ready for your instincts to kick in, so when your knife is drawn in a flash and you’re lunging for him, he’s easily dodging backward, holding his hands up in peace. “Now, now darling, I thought we were past the knives at throats.”

“Astarion?” you ask, startled. “Sweet hells, you haven’t snuck up on me like that in years.”

“Yes, well,” he says, avoiding your eyes now. He’s surprised by how much gazing into them has weakened his composure already. “You also haven’t looked so utterly distracted by your own thoughts in years either.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, ignoring his words. “I thought…”

Yes, dear, what did you think? he wants to ask, to catch you in the act with a cruel moment of revelation, to hurt you as much as you’re about to hurt him. But when he brings his eyes back to yours, he knows he can’t do that. While he’s still capable of maiming, killing, all manner of atrocities– he cannot hurt you. So he only says, “I was out hunting and I saw you hiding in a bush. What are you doing here?”

“I–” you falter, seemingly torn. Perhaps you’re having second thoughts. Perhaps this is his chance to keep you from breaking his cold, crumbling heart.

“Do you need assistance, dear?” he asks, ready and willing to show how much he would do for you. Anything, honestly, if it means you’ll stay by his side.

“Gods, I keep mucking this all up,” you mutter, head hanging in uncharacteristic defeat. “Maybe Shadowheart was right.”

What did that damned cleric do now? Is she the one you’re leaving him for? He’s about to make a reflexive, snide comment about her veritable barnyard of animals, but stops when he sees you sheath your blade. When you wipe a hand over your face in frustration.

Oh. You’re miserable. You wouldn’t look like this normally. You would never be this nervous, this stressed to see him– not unless his very presence had turned toxic. “I should go, shouldn’t I?” he asks, throat tight.

“No!” you say, reaching out a hand to keep him from leaving. Your grip is tight, painful in its panic, but he doesn’t complain. How could he when you look like this?

More than anything, he wants this worry that lines your face to fade, the jittery movement of your hands to abate. So maybe it’s up to him to spark the beginning of the end… “Did you… have something you wanted to tell me?” he asks, swallowing down the fear that threatens to overwhelm him.

“I…” you gulp, bringing your second hand to join the first, loosening your grip. You raise your head, and he sees the tumult in your gaze. At the very least, you must care about him somewhat to stress yourself this much. “Astarion, please don’t be upset.”

How could he not? But, somehow, he manages a sad smile at you anyway. “As if I could ever be upset with you, my love.”

Then you drop to a knee in front of him.

–

“Astarion,” you say, voice shaking a bit with nerves. “I had wanted this to be something lovely. Something meaningful. But… I guess you love ruining plans, don’t you?”

“What,” he breathes out, confusion plain on his face. His red eyes dart between yours, as if trying to process a sudden, large shift. You suppose it would be a shift in your relationship, even if you were practically married already. If he even decided to say yes.

You release his arm with one hand, reaching into your side pouch for the small square box that’s waiting for you. Fingers less dexterous than usual, you fumble over clutching it, opening it single handedly. You’re not used to looking this foolish, and you can feel a heat over your cheeks, an anxious shake to your movements.

But before too long the box is open, a shining platinum band resting inside.

It looks like everything you’d hoped for in the moment– its inlaid red rubies catch the moonlight just beautifully. You’d spent weeks agonizing, wondering if you had picked the right one, imagining what it might look like were it to be placed on his perfect pale finger. Here and now, with this man standing before you, you know it would look exquisite.

“Astarion,” you start again, courage returning to you with that knowledge, some of the words you’d prepared coming back to your mind. “These past years together have been the best years of my life. You’re my best friend, my dual blade, and I love you more than I can even say. I don’t know what our future holds, but I would consider myself lucky to walk towards it with you at my side. So…” You pull the ring from the box, holding it up to the man you love with a smile. “Would you, Astarion Ancunín, do me the honor of marrying me?”

Astarion Ancunín, despite years of quick quips and sultry words, seems to be frozen in place, unable to speak.

You’re used to these moments, when he needs to process, but you’re not used to them when you’re on one knee, waiting for a response. “Astarion?” you hazard.

“You’re…” he says, face slack, mouth barely moving. “You’re proposing to me?”

It’s not a no, but it’s certainly not the reaction you’d be hoping for. “Erm, yes. Is that… distasteful to you?” You can feel your hand recoil somewhat, your smile slip.

His expression remains blank, lips slightly agape as he continues to take in the scene before him. “You– you don’t have a new lover? You’re not planning to leave me?”

“What?” Now it’s your turn to be flabbergasted. “Astarion, what are you talking about?”

The sigh that leaves him then could collapse a small house. “Sweet hells,” he says, face and body relaxing. “I thought… I thought that you were acting odd, like– like–”

“Like I was trying to surprise you with the magnificent proposal you deserve?” you respond, suddenly understanding his behavior and growing a smidge annoyed. “Like I didn’t want to propose to you behind some damned bushes?”

Astarion looks around, as if just now realizing where you are, what is happening. “Yes, now that you mention it, like that.”

You want to be upset, but then the man above you laughs. It’s light, breathy, and utterly relieved. “You were really worried, weren’t you?”

“Oh my sweet love, I was about ready to jump into an Oubliette,” he says, shaking his head ruefully.

“You thought I would leave you, just like that?” you ask, brows furrowing in concern. Maybe you should have just proposed in your living room.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he says, looking down at you with a tinge of sadness in his smile. “I doubt that this was the life you were looking for, darling. As a matter of fact, are you… sure about this?” He eyes the ring in your hand, all but forgotten in his confusion.

You proffer it again, raising your hand a bit higher this time. “The only life I’m looking for is the one with you in it, Astarion. I am quite sure.”

His scarlet eyes dart between yours questioningly, and you merely stare back, staunch in your words and intent. “Even if I’m a fool that forced your hand– left you kneeling in the dirt?”

“We’ve done worse things on dirt, Astarion,” you say, smiling widening at the memory of the first time he’d told you he loved you. “If you’d like me to get out of the dirt though, you could answer my question: Would you marry me?”

Once more, he looks between your eyes, this time his are wide, open– daring to believe that his darkest fears are just that. Fears. Ones that you would vanquish without a second thought. How could he have been so blind to that. Moisture pools at the corner of his eyes at the realization.

So he drops to his knees, reaching for your face with his hands. In a single movement, he’s pulled you toward him, captured your lips with his with an undeniable longing. A longing to hold you in his hands for as long as he is able. A longing to taste your lips on his, each and every day. A longing to never be without you, to be yours until death do you part.

You respond to his kiss in kind, lips pressing against him with your own pent up longing. He distantly hears the ring’s box fall to the floor, feels your hand brush past his ear to clutch his hair. You kiss him like he’s the answer to every question you’ve ever had and he feels a small tear run down his face as his eyes squeeze tightly shut.

Gods he would never tire of kissing you.

I ought to respond, he thinks in the back of his head, as he moves his lips against yours.

Is this not response enough? he argues, not wanting to break apart from you, for even a moment.

No, it wouldn’t do to have any confusion, not after the past two weeks.

So, before he can forget himself, he pulls back from you, far enough to look into your eyes. “That was a ‘yes’ in case that wasn’t evident.”

You laugh, short and breathless. “Oh good,” you say, leaning back further and bringing up the ring between you. “Then may I?”

Astarion removes his left hand from your face, holds it out to you with a large, gleeful smile. “You may.”

You slip the ring onto his finger. It fits well, matches his eyes, looks positively sumptuous– as always, you know him too well. “It’s stunning,” he says, angling it one way then another.

“I’m glad you like it,” you say, smiling at the sight. “And that you didn’t catch me when I tried to sneak it past you.”

The vampire laughs, shaking his head free of his own silly thoughts. “I smashed your plans into tiny little pieces, didn’t I?”

You don’t say yes, but the look on your face is evidence enough. “I’ll tell you all about what you missed out on later. For now, we should, erm, go get our friends.”

“Go get our friends?” he asks, wondering what in the hells they have to do with all of this.

“Yes,” you say, planting a kiss on his hand before moving to get up. “They’re all in place for another one of these ill fated plans.”

“Ah,” he says, following you up. Then, realizing what you’ve said, he looks at you with concern. “Just what were you in this bush for?”

To your credit, you look abashed. But your words do nothing to lessen his concern. “Seeing as you were refusing to come with me, well, anywhere, we had to pivot our strategy.”

“Darling,” he starts, his tone a deceptive sweetness. “Whatever does that mean?”

“It was Karlach’s plan,” you say, as a means of explanation.

“Oh good. I’m sure whatever it was was perfectly sane then.”

Scratching at the back of your neck, you finally admit the plan, “I was going to give them a signal when you passed. Gale was going to make an illusory double of me getting kidnapped by the rest of them in disguise, then hopefully you would take chase to go save me, they would lose you just as you got to the Elfsong where I would be waiting…”

Astarion looks at you sharply, his mouth a disapproving line. “Really?”

“In retrospect, I can see the flaws in the plan,” you say, palms open. “But in my defense, I was getting desperate. Either way, we ought to go get them. Karlach seemed just about ready to explode from hiding that long.”

“Fine,” he says reluctantly. “This is what we get for having such imbeciles for friends.”

“Funny,” you start, holding out a hand to him. “They said the same about you.”

He takes your hand with an exaggerated eye roll, but can’t help the smile that comes over his face at the feeling of your fingers twining with his. “It’s a shame you had to resort to them for help.”

“I really needed it. You know, I have killed more people than I can count, but you have been my most challenging mark by far,” you say, dramatically as you begin to walk down the alleyway.

“Worse than the giant, world-ending brain?”

“Oh yes.”

The two of you walk in silence for a few steps before Astarion feels compelled to say one last thing before reaching your friends. “Darling, I truly am sorry I ruined all of your plans, but I must ask: Please don’t try to surprise me like this again.”

The expression on your face deflates a little, and you say, “I thought you would like something grand?”

He brings your hand up to his lips for a soft, reassuring peck. “Normally, yes. But, I love you so very much. I’m afraid it clouds my usually impeccable judgment.”

You don’t comment on his judgment, instead focusing on his proclamation of love. “I love you too. So, hopefully, there isn’t a second proposal.”

“One can only hope,” Astarion says with a laugh. “And, if there is, perhaps it’s my turn to do the proposing?”

“Love, if you surprise me, I may kill you,” you say, plainly.

“A risk I’ve always been willing to take, my dear,” the man replies, pulling on your hand. “Now, come. I think I can spot Wyll’s peeking eye from here.”

Hand-in-hand, the two of you walk toward your waiting friends, ready to tell them the good news.

It wasn’t the grand proposal you had envisioned. Nor was it even a particularly romantic one. But, somehow, it was still perfect, still loving, still the beautiful new beginning to the rest of your lives together.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #rogue + rogue #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #astarion fic #love at first knife #tadfools tomfoolery #astarion fanfic #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion pov #astarion is bad at feelings #proposal fic

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meo-eiru · 7 months ago

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It's kinda sad tbh!! Knowing that Elian is literally nothing without his looks,, literally feeling unwelcomed or invalidated to anything if you aren't pretty enough it's literally everything to him I so agree w the person analyzing him !!! But what I am curious about though is his darling. What if darling were to be the same? Like also pretty co-dependent, self destructive, etc. Or what if they were to find joy in just.. Idk!! Sadist stuff , since he literally revolves around them. I think a darling who's also almost the exact same as him would be interesting, literally two people destroying each other what if one went away? Etc etc. I love angst ohmy. Or what if darling was the exact opposite? A good life, successful, basically everything he doesn't have. Would he be jealous or worship them?? What if darling just idk uses him as a trophy and stuff,, or basically neglects him, what if darling were to get angry easily? At him, maybe. Saying how useless he is and all. What if darling was bipolar?? Σ(゜゜) I love toxic relationships like how they turn out and how it effects the people in it especially YK the vampire yandere since it's literally just self destruction,, STOP THAT REMINDS ME WHAT IF VAMPIRE YANS DARLING WERE ALSO LIKE A PEOPLE PLEASER? giving all their blood to him with no complaint,, like very insistent yk, like almost the exact replica of him. Backflips away

Elias character analyses

Oh god all of these scenarios sound so delicious I don’t know where to start.

I love the idea of a darling who is similar to him nature. As obsessed with him as he is with them, being co-dependent together.

Elias loves being loved by you. Your affection is what makes him feel alive. He wants you to call him pretty and cherish him. Choose clothes for him and praise him like a doll who exists to be loved by you.

But he’s just so very insecure, he believes you could abandon him very easily so he experiences very aggressive jealousy fits. So a darling who’s equally obsessed with him sounds like it could balance things out. One that keeps their eye on him all the time, one that love bombs him constantly.

But as sweet as it sounds too much of anything is unhealthy. I’m afraid that co-dependance might break them both in the long run. Elias will probably want more and more no matter how much love you give him. Once he gets used to receiving your love he’ll probably start fearing that it’s some sort of momentary happiness and you could disappear at any moment. He’ll be paranoid. He might push you into quitting your job and staying with him inside the house 24/7 because any moment he’s not in contact with you makes him anxious.

But what if darling keeps pouring in love without getting tired? What if they are ok with giving up on everything just to spoil Elias? I think they will be happy. They will be very happy in fact. But I feel like they’ll be happy in the way drunk people are. It’s like a daze, an impossibly perfect dream. Elias might slowly start to lose the small amount of humanity he has and become completely doll like. Just a soulless, endless black hole of a creature that’ll take and take and take all the love you give him.

A sadistic (and probably rich) darling who uses him like some sort of trophy is also fun. He’s like a pretty accessory for them to carry around, like a handbag. I feel like for a long long time Elias would do everything in his power to please them. He would perfect his appearance to insane levels. He exists to be pretty for you, to elevate your standing, he can’t risk ever being imperfect in the public eye because it would damage you as well. And Elias wants you to be proud of him, he wants you to tell him you are proud of him and that he’s the most beautiful thing you own.

But maybe instead you put him down. You damage his ego to keep him where he is. Prevent him from trying to climb up to your level. Maybe you think he should stay the way he is, a thing that exists to make you look better. He’s beautiful and that’s all he should be.

But Elias is pretty crazy at the end of the day. He can only take it for so long. Elias is very petty and he wants you to love him.

At one point it infuriates him. You are so perfect. You are so successful in life, you are loved by people, you are beautiful, you are amazing, you are just so… perfect. And Elias doesn’t want that. The fact that you have everything he doesn’t, the fact that everyone else gets to see your perfectness, the way you put him down no matter how hard he tries.

Maybe you could love him if he pulled you down to his level.

He might start some gossips about you. He might lie about your business practices or some dating scandal. He might use his pretty face to act like a victim who was abused by you. And once you lose your money, your power, your status, your everything… Elias will welcome you back with open arms. You also have nothing now, just like him. Surely you can love him with all your heart now?

I forgive you but I don’t know if Elias will😔

#asks #elias #yandere pretty boyfriend #yandere pretty boyfriend x reader

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arrowfleur · 3 months ago

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✩‧₊˚ Redacted HC’s ✩‧

Part 2: Sam and Darlin’

Sam is very rarely, if ever, at his full potential because he doesn’t do live feedings unless he literally needs to.

Big time cuddlers, Sam’s cold body and Darlin’s warmth work wonders.

Although Sam is warmer than most vampires since he eats more food than most.

Very good cook too, he has a lot of family recipes from his grandma

Darlin’ can hold their own in the kitchen they’re just not that bothered about it, or eating in general.

They’re also always dehydrated asf, they only really drink water when they’re working out, other then that, they forget.

Darlin’ has bought Sam multiple tank tops that are too small for him.

One of them had ‘garlic’ bedazzled on it and they laughed at their own joke for the rest of the night after Sam put it on

They both like to do each others hair. Brushing it, washing it, shaving beards. They can’t get their hands off each other

Darlin’ sits directly on top of Sam often, even when the whole couch is empty. He’s practically a climbing frame.

Sam is closest to David’s height out of everyone in the pack, Darlin is pretty level with Asher.

Darlin’ calls Sam ‘Collin’s’ ‘sammy’ and ‘babe’ quite often but they’ve found themself saying ‘it’s Sam’ if someone calls him anything otherwise

Sometimes they both say it in unison

Darlin has picked up quite a lot of Sam’s language but it doesn’t fit quite as neatly with their accent.

After finding out what it means, they particularly enjoy saying ‘bless your heart’ and then smirking to Sam as if it’s some sort of inside joke just between them.

They both think each other to be the funniest thing to exist. Darlin’ will keel over giggling at the most mundane comments Sam makes.

The pack was rather surprised to find out how gossipy Sam can be. Angel, Babe and Ash were DELIGHTED.

But he will not tolerate bad words being said about his loved ones. And has on multiple occasions whipped out the dead-pan face with a ‘do you hear how stupid you sound?’ to someone who thought him a safe space for slander.

They play fight in the woods a lot. Hunting each other, whilst Darlin’s shifted. Sam figured he’d have to go easy on them the first time they did it but they are surprisingly sneaky for such a large creature.

Darlin’ pounced on sam once, not realising he was next to a hill and they both ended up with twigs in their hair cradling each other at the bottom, with the loudest belly laughs ever.

Sam uses Vaseline for everything. His bathroom mainly consists of that and old spice.

The first time Darlin’ teased him about it he just laughed and graciously reminded them of his ‘soft lips’ with an off guard kiss

Timberland hates to see Sam coming, he has oh so many boots

He’s surprisingly meticulous about what he buys and he has expensive taste

‘I’d rather spend the money now and have them last than have to buy ‘em again in a couple months’

Saying that, he probably couldn’t name a single designer.

Could care less about having the latest trend or product.

He orders clothes for Darlin’ as well. Mainly basics. It took them a while to realise when their clothes started taking up more and more space in their closet.

Darlin’ is more than happy to wear the same pair of ripped black jeans over and over but they do have a fashion sense.

And if they absolutely HAVE to, they will show out.

When they were younger they had a very 2000’s aesthetic and it’s never completely left them.

The same way they will never get rid of their Ed hardy t-shirts

Sam likes marmalade

Darlin’ once surprised Sam with breakfast in bed, which he tried his best to be grateful for but all he could think about were crumbs in the bed l.

Darlin’ realised their mistake and they moved it to the couch as a compromise.

Darlin’ has a journal but it’s just filled with random sketches and funny things they thought of. They’re very private about it though

When they first met, almost all of Darlin’s socks had holes in

Darlin LOVES the Wildlife they get to see at Sam’s house. They have tried to befriend dears and foxes many, many times.

They also know a strangely large amount of bird breeds

Sam has a strange hatred for bagels

Darlin’ bought Sam the new f-zero game as soon as it came out

Sam used to have a German Shepard named Fido

Darlin’ still goes back to their old apartment every week to take their elderly neighbour grocery shopping.

Darlin’ quit smoking once they’d settled with Sam

He never asked them too, but they want a long life with him

They still have a packet for when they’re stressed but baby steps

Darlin’ uses the amount of buttons Sam’s flannels have to their ADVANTAGE when they’re making out

And God they love his lap and his thighs and his neck and his beard and his smile and nose and hands and voice and and and and

Sorry l bout that one I miss my husband

Anyways that’s all and here’s my proof I got them second, not that it really matters but anyway

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #arrowsqueue #redactedverse #redacted sam #redacted darlin

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sunshowersanddandelionwine · 5 months ago

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Hi regarding your Haunts post. It was so cute! Ghost got immediate brownie points for taking care of Soaps sister, I hope the rest of the group leave needing a change of cloths.

Haunts are usually seasonal right? (Idk I’m not American) So Ghost could be working at it whilst on leave as a favor or it could be one of those community outreach/recruitment things the army sometimes hosts or a family fair/expo they also attend.

What would everyone’s costumes be?

Would there be a competition on who could get the most scares? (Excluding ghost) who would win?

If Soap joined Ghost the next year would they do a couples costume?

Anyway cool post thank you for sharing it.

thank you!!! :D and yeah, ghost might be dressed as a crazed masked killer but hes not gonna just let this kid sit in the middle of a dark maze with a bum ankle lol he might play a monster but hes not actually one. and while its against policy to stalk guests through the whole grounds (something something harrassment something something liability blah blah blah), price lets this one slide because he heard maggie backstage and was very much not impressed. gaz and roach might have joined ghost in the stalking. just a little ^-^

and yeah, most haunts (at least in the US) are seasonal! they typically run from sometime in september through halloween or occasionally early november. there are a few year round houses thought! a local haunt in my city actually runs all year, and its located inside a mall! but youre right, he could just be on leave for a month or so to help out with community outreach! i think id want the rest of the riley family to be alive in that case just so he and tommy could cause a ruckus together XD

as for costumes... i definitely see ghost as a slasher villain type character, sort of in the veins of jason voorhees or michael myers. its probably cliche but i think it fits the vibes! gaz would kill (hee hee) as a vampire, either in just stage makeup or full special effects and prosthetics. price is probably either a werewolf or in a ghillie suit for jumpscaring. nikolai doesnt work as a scare actor himself (he works backstage) but if he was forced to, hed want to be a victim lol. laswell is a mad scientist type, no question. roach pulls of a zombie way too well. once she joins the haunt, maggie would be a slasher too as ghost's protege. (dont tell anyone but he teared up a little when she told him.) if soap joined the team, hed probably work backstage with nik, and like nik he'd want to be a victim XD

oh for sure theres a competition for the most scares, and theres also a competition for the most creative scares! like you said, ghost wins the most scares almost every year, but roach has come very very close many times! hes a sneaky little bug, and he always catches people completely off guard :D the most creative scare the last year went to nikolai, who did some wizardry with the lights and sound effects and nearly gave price a heart attack.

a trophy is waiting for anyone who manages to scare laswell. no one has ever been able to claim it skfjhsdlkfhsdl

OHHHH ABSOLUTELY GHOAP WOULD!! i love that :DDD i think the whole haunt has a costume contest for the end of the season afterparty, and its the most ridiculous thing ever. ghost gets soap to come as his plus one, and its adorable! idk what their costumes would be tho so if anyone has suggestions please let me know!

#scare actor au #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #nikolai cod #nikprice #kate laswell #gary roach sanderson #asked and answered #bl nk sp ce #thank you for enjoying the original post!#also maggie mactavish is my new favorite expect her to be in like all of my fics where soap's family is mentioned XD

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ninadove · 5 months ago

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Nina reads Dracula 🦇

September 20th

I opened today’s entry thinking I knew what to expect, but apparently I did not:

Report from Patrick Hennessey, M. D., M. R. C. S. L. K. Q. C. P. I., etc., etc., to John Seward, M. D.

A bit of humour in the darkest of nights. And what a power move! I love that even minor characters are given such vivid personalities!

With regard to patient, Renfield, there is more to say. He has had another outbreak, which might have had a dreadful ending, but which, as it fortunately happened, was unattended with any unhappy results.

This is what I mean! Look how this man writes. Completely redundant. He has a unique “voice” and I love it!

I went down to see if I could make out any cause for his anger, since he is usually such a well-behaved man, and except his violent fits nothing of the kind had ever occurred.

I’m starting to think every staff member has a death wish.

It was, I am sorry to say, however, only another instance of his cunning, for within half an hour I heard of him again. This time he had broken out through the window of his room, and was running down the avenue. I called to the attendants to follow me, and ran after him, for I feared he was intent on some mischief.

YA THINK?????

Also, what was I saying about safety protocols the other day?

The other fellow jumped down and struck him over the head with the butt-end of his heavy whip. It was a terrible blow; but he did not seem to mind it, but seized him also, and struggled with the three of us, pulling us to and fro as if we were kittens. You know I am no light weight, and the others were both burly men.

IT’S WORKING!!!!! The DYI vampirism is working!!! Mark me down as scared and strangely proud.

The two carriers were at first loud in their threats of actions for damages, and promised to rain all the penalties of the law on us. Their threats were, however, mingled with some sort of indirect apology for the defeat of the two of them by a feeble madman. They said that if it had not been for the way their strength had been spent in carrying and raising the heavy boxes to the cart they would have made short work of him. They gave as another reason for their defeat the extraordinary state of drouth to which they had been reduced by the dusty nature of their occupation and the reprehensible distance from the scene of their labours of any place of public entertainment. I quite understood their drift, and after a stiff glass of grog, or rather more of the same, and with each a sovereign in hand, they made light of the attack, and swore that they would encounter a worse madman any day for the pleasure of meeting so 'bloomin' good a bloke' as your correspondent. I took their names and addresses, in case they might be needed.

Efficient crisis management. Have a sticker 🦇

Now onto the regularly scheduled horrors…

Only resolution and habit can let me make an entry to-night. I am too miserable, too low-spirited, too sick of the world and all in it, including life itself, that I would not care if I heard this moment the flapping of the wings of the angel of death.

About that —

And he has been flapping those grim wings to some purpose of late—Lucy's mother and Arthur's father, and now.... Let me get on with my work.

Oh so it’s official! Arthur’s father has passed! What a month!

Van Helsing was very kind to him. "Come, my child," he said; "come with me. You are sick and weak, and have had much sorrow and much mental pain, as well as that tax on your strength that we know of. You must not be alone; for to be alone is to be full of fears and alarms. Come to the drawing-room, where there is a big fire, and there are two sofas. You shall lie on one, and I on the other, and our sympathy will be comfort to each other, even though we do not speak, and even if we sleep."

That is very sweet.

There was a full moonlight, and I could see that the noise was made by a great bat, which wheeled round—doubtless attracted by the light, although so dim—and every now and again struck the window with its wings.

Hold on hold on hold on. I think Jack might be on to something here.

So far, we’ve seen Dracula target Jonathan and Lucy specifically and relentlessly. Yes, he also attacked the crew of the Demeter, but that was out of necessity (being stuck in the middle of the ocean with no other source of food) rather than choice; and he doesn’t want to feed on Renfield, who is older and “feeble” both physically and mentally.

So he is attracted to the light, metaphorically: to young people who are full of life and love. Because that’s what he lacks. Argh.

It was certainly odd that whenever she got into that lethargic state, with the stertorous breathing, she put the flowers from her; but that when she waked she clutched them close.

🥺😔

"She is dying. It will not be long now. It will be much difference, mark me, whether she dies conscious or in her sleep. Wake that poor boy, and let him come and see the last; he trusts us, and we have promised him." […]

When we came into Lucy's room I could see that Van Helsing had, with his usual forethought, been putting matters straight and making everything look as pleasing as possible. He had even brushed Lucy's hair, so that it lay on the pillow in its usual sunny ripples. When we came into the room she opened her eyes, and seeing him, whispered softly:—

"Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come!" He was stooping to kiss her, when Van Helsing motioned him back. "No," he whispered, "not yet! Hold her hand; it will comfort her more."

Say what you want about Van Helsing (SISTER), he’s showing incredible amounts of compassion in this chapter.

In a sort of sleep-waking, vague, unconscious way she opened her eyes, which were now dull and hard at once, and said in a soft, voluptuous voice, such as I had never heard from her lips:—

"Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come! Kiss me!" Arthur bent eagerly over to kiss her; but at that instant Van Helsing, who, like me, had been startled by her voice, swooped upon him, and catching him by the neck with both hands, dragged him back with a fury of strength which I never thought he could have possessed, and actually hurled him almost across the room.

"Not for your life!" he said; "not for your living soul and hers!" And he stood between them like a lion at bay.

The next few entries are going to be fun.

Their eyes met instead of their lips; and so they parted.

Ouch.

"Ah, well, poor girl, there is peace for her at last. It is the end!"

He turned to me, and said with grave solemnity:—

"Not so; alas! not so. It is only the beginning!"

When I asked him what he meant, he only shook his head and answered:—

"We can do nothing as yet. Wait and see."

A heads up would be nice!!!

< Prev 🦇 Next >

#dracula #dracula daily #nina reads dracula #lucy westenra #abraham van helsing #john seward #arthur holmwood #r.m. renfield

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glitterrosesnzz · 6 months ago

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oh right w/anderer s/imulanka snz stuff-

well mainly i just think its a very fun opportunity for caretaking first and foremost. something about the W/anderer having to deal with N/avia, N/ilou, K/irara, AND the T/raveler all being concerned about him all at once is just. well on the one hand- angst since W/anderer has not really had much caretaking in a while, on the other hand absolute hilarity of them trying to wrangle W/anderer into letting himself be cared for-

this is mainly in the case of W/anderer being "sick" though- which, i've been imagining, it'd be so fun if some of Mini D/urin's hallucinatory fog breath stuff got like... stuck in the W/anderer's system. y'know like the swirl reaction thing i use in my fics and hcs- so like, W/anderer's anemo vision isn't working quite right, he might be getting a little bit of a fever (due to it making his puppet systems have to work harder to run properly), in-animate things he touches in the S/imulanka world might start turning into blocks, and if he actually lets a sneeze out, he will breathe out the hallucinatory fog- except this time it's his memories, not Mini D/urin's.

we COULD also consider an allergy scenario in here too. i think it'd be especially funny if we added in the T/raveler not really knowing what an allergen is as well- like they've learned flowers can set it off at this point but not much beyond that. it'd be hysterical really if W/anderer was allergic to something in the S/imulanka world and everyone was like throwing out random suggestions of what it could be and T/raveler was just standing there like "???? i thought only flowers did that...." (it's ends up not being so much an allergy- as much as it is W/anderer being the only one who can smell the ink on the forest creatures/the ink that they drink, and he's sensitive to it. it doesn't help that N/ilou in particular smells very strongly of it. ...He's also the only one who can drink it and will do so despite this + the others warning him off of it).

oh AND!!! photic reflex thought- Mini D/urin wanting to like mess around with the W/anderer's hat, and after a few close calls where it almost falls off the W/anderer makes a sort of disgruntled noise and gives it to him- and then immediately moves to hide in the shade of N/avia's umbrella (parasol) before the sunlight can even touch his eyes. (T/raveler makes a joke about him being a vampire that no-one else gets (does the concept of vampires exist in T/eyvat...)). anyways the way he's kinda staying so close to N/avia is drawing a TON of suspicion- at some point she moves when he's not expecting it, he gets sunlight in his eyes, and immediately has a little fit of sneezes- N/avia pauses for a moment at the sight and then shifts to hold her umbrella above him so that he's in the shade again-

#Gen/shin Imp/act #snz #snz scenario #....is that right for this?? dunno #also with K/irara we could do the always good concept of one of her tails accidentally brushing against W/anderer's nose #and setting him off that way-

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moonberrybat · 7 days ago

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!!!! Marina, Marina! I know it might be asking a bit much, but do you Toy.House profiles done up for Hedda, Merlinde, Roksana & Ysabel like you do with Roswitha?? Could you tell me more about them, if not!!! I’m SO HERE for all the gals! & I’d love to know how they fit into the greater story!

Plus now I’m imagining Alucard pestering Integra to use the internet for weeks, until she relents and allows him ONE session, which is to be watched by guards. But interestingly he spends the time internet shopping and browsing on Etsy until finishing. Much to the confusion of everyone… until months later and the manor is delivered a package containing a dog toy of his exact likeness that he commissioned for Roswitha as a gift GRJHRJGD

Hiii! :D Not much to ask at all! Still working on their profiles since coding them does take a while and their stories are not as developed as Rosi's yet! But definitely working on that :D I don't have their stories entirely figured out yet but I can give at least a little info on them yeah! :D Rambling ahead, you've been warned /lh

Merlinde and Hedda are sisters! They also had two other siblings, Merlinde being the oldest and Hedda being the youngest. Merlinde used to be Roswitha's Girlfriend when Roswitha was in her 20s. She was a witch and generally just a sweet woman all around, very kind and caring. She was known to speak with a very soft voice and basically always having a smile on her face. She was later on arrested and executed for witchcraft, leaving behind two of her younger siblings. Ah the old days, truly a time to be a woman doing anything at all. Hedda survived the situation but her grief sort of ate her up inside over years and years. And trying to find a way to cope or any sort of outlet, she just started to blame Roswitha for it all. Hedda gets turned into a vampire in her adulthood, having searched out that chance to give herself more time and more power to find Roswitha and bring her down. Hedda has grown to be a bit of a snob in modern times, she likes expensive and shiny things and cares a lot about herself and herself only really. She has an intense hatred for the church for what they did to her sister and an intense hatred for Roswitha due to blaming her for her sisters death. Roksana came from a poor family and has always struggled in life that led her to paths she isn't proud of, including the job she had at the time. She eventually gets turned into a vampire against her will, mourning the loss of her humanity while being under someones control. Roksana is a bit of a gloomy person, she doesn't smile or talk a lot. But she's really nice once you really get to know her! Ysabel on the other hand came from a very wealthy family and she never really missed anything in her life. She studied medicine, had a wealthy boyfriend and was generally liked by her peers. She knows Roksana, becomes her friend and eventually has to struggle with the fact she actually fell in love with her. Ysabel is very sweet, bubbly and a bit of a chatterbox.

The details are still a bit murky but Ysabel eventually figures out Roksana's situation and tried getting her out of the Vampire's grasp. Hellsing gets involved and was originally set on disposing of Roksana along the other Vampire but Ysabel pleaded and begged for Roksana, shielding the other woman with her own body. She vouches for Roksana and begs them to just let her be and that she could work for them instead so someone always has an eye on her. Ysabel also volunteers to work for the organisation as well, just to make sure Roksana is always looked after. Ysabel works as a Nurse while Roksana works as a Maid in the organisation! They also start dating somewhere between Ysabel coming to terms with her sexuality and Hellsing stepping in! They're in a very happy relationship and care for each other deeply <3 Also oh my god that's so insanely cute x'D That toy would be going through hell in public, poor thing😂But would always be next to Rosi while she's asleep, talk about mixed messages

#oc #ocs #roswitha #ask #oc ask #roksana #hedda #merlinde #ysabel

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panlight · 9 months ago

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Not including "Olympic" or any of the last names among the members, do you have any other ideas that could serve as a title for the Cullen coven? It just seems odd how the vampire clans are referred to by either their leader's name (James, Sancar, Hilda, etc) or geography (Egypt, Denali or the Amazons). I honestly doubt the Irish coven isn't a family unit, and maybe the Egyptians have developed a somewhat similar layout. Denali doesn't make sense considering the mixed background of all of the members (Russian, Spanish, North American, French if you include Laurent too). I don't think "North American" fits the Cullens either since they've resided in places outside the US (not 100% certain though). I'm curious, what could be titles for each coven?

My sense is that these names would develop organically over time, sort of like how surnames developed in Europe. "Oh that's Tom the baker," eventually becomes Tom Baker, "Tom who lives on the hill," becomes Tom Hill, etc. So I think in that way naming them after their founder or their location makes sense. "Siobhan and her coven in Ireland = Irish Coven" "the nomadic coven Hilda founded" = Hilda's Coven.

So I don't really know what other names might be used. I guess they could be something like "the Golden Coven" from their eyes or "The Vegetarian Coven", but the Denali could be that too. Perhaps the Denali were grandmothered in as "The Succubus Coven" and the new members just have to sort of deal with that name even though Carmen, Eleazar and Garrett never fit that description, which lets the Cullens claim the Gold/Veggie mantel.

Other reasons I Don't Care For the term 'Olympic Coven?' It's not their land, it's Quileute land, Makah land, etc. Claiming "Olympic Coven" for them adds insult to injury on that front. Also it erases the entire history of the coven before this point. I know in an out-of-universe sense they only came into existence when Bella entered their lives, but Carlisle's been around for 350+ years and the coven had existed for almost 90ish years before the events of the story. I know it's Bella's story, but this isn't Bella's Coven. She didn't found it, it didn't come into existence in Forks, and Carlisle was already well-known before the events of BD; that's how he was able to gather all the witnesses.

And it seems SM herself dropped the idea after the Vampire Index (which to me sort of read as a joke anyway? Didn't Jacob have a line like "someone needs to provide an index so I can remember all the bloodsuckers' names!" and then "see Vampire Index").

The Yellow Eyes, St. Carlisle and his disciples, that weird coven that starves themselves, Carlisle and his gifted followers, 'that one vampire who has a job and house and wife and kids, lololol", etc this all makes more sense to me than "The Olympic Coven." I guess the most poetic might be like "The Golden Ones" or something, but I imagine to other vampires it's less "golden" and more "sickly yellow."

#asks

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stealingyourteeth · 7 months ago

Text

My thoughts on “The New Normal! (The Normal Album 2024 Edit)” except they’re two days late because Apple Music SUCKS sometimes

“Blue Velvet” Reboot Starring Tom Waits

- okay so i like the part before vampire culture a LOT. I like the radio effect

- VAMPIRE CULTURE UGHHH!! it gives me the afraid vibe that i think the original was going for, the screaming at the beginning really tying it all together

- also the ending verses in vampire culture can be heard a lot better than in the original! in the original i could not hear them at all (which could have just been me lmao)

- the diction is more clearer in Love Me, Normally. the words are more clear than in the original and i like that a lot

- I also like the sort of cricket noise at the end, that’s really nice imo

Second! Sight! Seer! S!

- the beginning sounds more clean, but also sort of muddy and chaotic at the same time?

- ohhh i really like the drums in this one

- I feel like this gives more of a neon vibe than the original? I don’t know if that makes sense though

- again, BIG fan of the drums. especially in the chorus

- the horns are also really nice in this too!!

- I REALLY LIKE THAT WISHY WASHY NOISE. IT REMINDS ME OF NEEDED A CHANGE OF PACE (JHARIAH) AND THATS SO COOL

- it gives more of like an insane radio host vibe?? im a really big fan of this

The Moral Implications Of A Determined Universe feat. The Onceler

- okay before i start it i find this title really funny

- I LIKE THE FADE IN SO MUCH MORE

- the clarinet/oboe(? I genuinely cannot tell which is funny because I played oboe for awhile) is cleaner, I like that

- it kinda sounds like construction

- I LOVE the piano. I love the piano in this entire thing

- the background lyrics are louder, love that! I couldn’t hear them before either

- I LOVE THE “somebody help me!”

- THE SKELETON LINE IS SO COOL I LOOOOVE THAT

- the drum at the ending was so cool!! I love that

I / Me / Myself

- the doowaps and the lalas are more even, that’s pretty cool!!

- it feels less chaotic, which changes the vibe of the song

- it feels cleaner, which is expected

- ougghhh I like the cymbals

- Im really missing the xylophone in the background☹️i love the xylophone

- THE XYLOPHONE IS BACK NVM!!

- oh my god I love the “we’re so alike” line that was so cool

- I can tell a different take was used for the chorus, that’s nice

- the instrumental is pretty fire

- the lyrics are not changed like I thought they would be! that’s okay though

- I think there was an entire different take used for the entire song, it sounds a lot different

- THE WHISPERING IS LOUDER!!! GOD BLESS I NEEDED THE WHISPERING LOUDER

…well, better than the alternative (Better Edit)

- the piano sounds a lot softer, that’s cool

- I also like the drum at the beginning

- I LIKE HOW IT SLOWED DOWN

- different take used!!!! I actually like this so much better, it fits the vibe of the song sooooo much better

- I LOVE the drums on this song, they’re so nice and crisp

- it sounds like he’s about to laugh but like a somber laugh, that really sets the mood of the song

- it feels faster almost?

- I LOVE THE CHOIR IN THE BACKGROUND SO MUCH

- i still have no idea what happens right before the bridge but that’s okay

- it feels so more theatric and i LOVE THAT

- it kinda makes me want to make a jukebox musical of the normal album, which i think could be really cool

- OH MY GOD I LOVE WHERE IT SOUNDS LIKE HE GETS ANGRY

- I love how it gets slower at the end that’s so nice

- could you tell me how:(

- why does it kinda sound like minions at the end

I Lied About The Apple Thing (Skeleton Bones Edit)

- i like the acoustic guitar, that’s really cool

- I LIKE WHEN IT GETS LOUDER

- i like the “you people make me sick!” line

- I HEAR THE SKELETON BONES I THINK. THATS SO COOL ACTUALLY

- oh “anyway” was so cool in that

- SKELETON BONES!!! YEAAAH!!!

- I love the harmonies on this song so much

- the little acoustic guitar moments are so cool

- I LIKE WHERE HE JUST WAS TALKING THAT WAS SO COOL

- i like the end that was cool

- I don’t have very big opinions on this song tbh

Ideas Only Spread Because People Like Them, the “Free Market of Ideas” is not a Mediocrity, it’s a Set of Unhealthy Coping Skills and a Corporate Oligarchy, Wake Up, Man! Don’t Let The Lies Dim Your Light! anyway this one’s black box warrior

- i fear this may take the cake for longest will wood song title but i do not want to count currently

- I like the drums and how it’s not really just piano

- I love how it slowed down

- I LOVE THE DRUMROLL IN THE BACKGROUND

- i think it may be in a slower tempo, which is good

- I LIKE THE CLICKING IN THE CHORUS THATS SO COOL

- it feels more like a story than the original, which i think may be due to the slower tempo

- THE FLUTE!! I LOVE THE FLUTE!! I CAN PLAY THAT!! I PLAY THE FLUTE!!!!

- I love the symbols crashing

- the monologue is still the same which is great for me because I did NOT want to learn another monologue that has Mr. Woods bodacious vocabulary

Karen, Thannsdfghjkl You For The Casserole, But I Need You to Lea-n Into a Typo

- for anyone that doesn’t get this I believe it’s because in the original song there was a typo in the word “thankk” that just was never fixed so that’s really funny

- the beginning kinda sounds like WBBTA, which is cool because it is NOT like WBBTA

- it’s really theatrical which is also really cool!! a lot of these songs could fit into a musical

- i like the piano a lot on this one

- I also really like the glockenspiel (? I think it’s a glockenspiel. It could just be a regular xylophone)

- I LIKE THE CLICKING!! THATS COOL

- there’s a shalala now!!! wowie!!!!!!!!!

- I really like the background vocals in this one, it REAALLY reminds me of a musical/pos

- THE SLOW PART IS A DIFFERENT TAKE!! it sounds so much better

- he sounds like he’s judging you

A Knee-Slapping Joke About How Ending Tracks On Will Wood Albums Are Just Kinda Like That

- I LOVE THE ACOUSTIC GUITAR AT THE BEGINNING

- It feels a lot happier than the original, which just adds to the irony considering it’s well. A song about death

- HARMONIES AGAIN!! YAY!!

- it feels more like a closing song, which is nice. the original didn’t feel like a closing song to me for some reason

- this is something i could join a kick line to if this makes any sense

- THE END!! THATS SO COOL WHAT

- IT SOUNDS LIKE A CHOIR OF SO MANY DIFFERENT PEOPLE. THATS SO COOL

- the cheering at the end is still the same wowie

Final Thoughts

that was so much better than i thought it was going to be! i thought it was going to sound the same (i never saw the clip of WBBTA on insta because i fear i do not have insta) and there was gonna be no point in waiting for it, but i was proven wrong! my favorites are probably the suburbia edit and the 222 edit, those just really blew me away. i like some of the original songs better but this may just be because im kinda resistant to change lol. overall, it was just a really good edit and i hope to see an ICIMI one in the future ^_^

#will wood and the tapeworms #will wood #the new normal #the normal album #normal album remaster #tna will wood #long post #VERY long post #music #alternative music

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us3rnam3-r3dact3d · 6 months ago

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how do u come up with your titles? they read like song lyrics- and if they are could u drop the songs 👀👀++ to what extent does that song influence the story? (my bad if you've answered this before I have terrible memory)

-🦀

Ooohhh crab anon, the bag of worms you opened!! You are completely right, (almost) every title of my stories have come from song lyrics. And not only have I compiled the songs for you, I’ve written a lil blurb on why I chose that song and included recommended songs for each fic with applicable lyrics. I hope these satisfy!

another cup of wine | “Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl” Looking Glass

Listen, I’m gonna be real with y’all. This one is just because Darlin’ and Sam drink wine out of cups instead of glasses. No deeper meaning here, just an applicable lyric I liked. The song does have a sort of swag and divorced dad rock vibe that I think Sam in particular would listen to.

Recommended listening

“He Needs Me” Shelly Duval

“I’ll take a chance / I will because he needs me”

“No Choir” Florence + the Machine

“And it’s hard to write about being happy / ‘cause the older I get / I find that happiness is an extremely uneventful subject”

the only anchor i have left | poem by Andrea Gibson

The only one not taken from a song. I’ll link the poem below. I think the whole thing is very good for Bright Eyes. Lost and anchorless without something to be angry about. A common Andrea Gibson slay.

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9548512-what-if-i-don-t-want-the-monster-to-stop-being

Recommended listening

“Your Needs / My Needs” Noah Kahan

“To see a friend, to see a ghost”

“your life, your dreams / your mind, your needs/ my needs. / Your needs, my needs.”

“Second Child, Restless Child” the Oh Hellos

“And they saw the trouble in my eyes / they were quick to recognize the devil in me.”

i always wanted to die (clean and pretty) | “Last Words of a Shooting Star” Mitski

One of two or three Mitski lyrics I’ve used since she is just so good. Tbh I don’t know where I was going or where I want to go with this one. The general vibes are… tragic. I might retool later on.

Recommended listening

“Lonesome Town” Ricky Nelson

“There’s a place where lovers go / to cry their troubles away / and they call it Lonesome Town / where the broken hearts stay”

“This Too Shall Pass” Danny Schmidt

“We think too big / we think our self is one whole thing / and we claim that this collection / has a name and is a being / but deep inside / when every cell divides / well, it sets upon the rule that states / self-interest is divine”

let this whole town hear your knuckles crack | “Damn These Vampires” the Mountain Goats

Somehow the only fic so far with a title from tMG, my favorite band of all time. I’m sure I’ll find more in time. This song has western vibes that I don’t think fits the DAMN crew very well, and somehow I paired this song in my one fic that doesn’t involve Sam. However, the vibes are immaculate.

Recommended listening

Seventeen Going Under” Sam Fender

“I was far too scared to hit him / but I would hit him in a heart beat now / that’s the thing with anger / it begs to stick around”

“Saint Bernard 2” by Lincoln

“Lord make me a liar ‘cause I swore to god / when swearing still felt like the truth”

it’s my gut i can’t ignore (i’m hungry) | “Gone, I’m Gone” Eva Noblezada and the cast of Hadestown.

Also surprising I haven’t used more broadway lyrics, but here we are. My absolute favorite musical which, in part, is about hunger driving you to do desperate things. This piece was so largely focused on food insecurity for me. Every chapter revolves around food to some degree, and even the metaphors and similes Angel uses to describe the world around them are tied to food. It’s something that those of us who grew up with food insecurity can relate to; when you’re hungry, everything reminds you of food. When you live hungry, it consumes your every thought. When Noblezada as Eurydice delivers the line “it’s my gut I can’t ignore / Orpheus, I’m hungry,” you can hear it in her voice. It’s worth a listen for that line alone.

“Abbey” Mitski

“I am hungry / I have been hungry / I was born hungry / what do I need”

“Class of 2013- Audiotree Live Version” Mitski

“Mom / will you wash my back this once / and then we can forget / and I’ll leave what I’m chasing / for the other girls to pursue”

as long as you’re with me (you’ll be just fine) | “Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby” Cigarettes After Sex

This whole song has excellent David vibes. The protectiveness, the quiet possession. He’s a soft soul at heart, I think, and this song fits well. This collection is one of my faves just because we get to see many different sides of him and ways in which he can be protective, possessive. From quiet reassurance to acts of service to beating the shit out of people. As long as his pack is with him, he will keep them safe.

Recommended listening

“Cold Cold Man” Saint Motel

“Oh my love / I know I am a cold, cold man / quite slow to pay you compliments / or public displayed affections. / But baby, don’t you go over analyze / no need to theorize / I can put your doubts to rest / You’re the only one worth seeing”

there is a light (i feel it in me) | “Abbey” Mitski

Already tied to this series, this Mitski song is just perfect. An exploration of how trauma can effect us in ugly ways, this piece pairs perfectly with Mitski’s music. This song explores the deep hunger within the singer, countered by the lightness she feels within herself. Angel, in this piece, is haunted by their hunger and treats David poorly because of it. The light that he shows them helps them to reach for the light within themself. We love healing in this house!!!

See the recommended songs under it’s my gut i can’t ignore (i’m hungry).

the rest of you, the best of you (honey belongs to me) | “NFWMB” Hozier

Oh boy I could go on for ages about Hozier. His songs are on almost all of my Redacted playlists and so I listen to his work pretty much every time I write for Redacted. His lyricism and prose are evident in my work, I think. This piece, one of Angel’s first indications of how protective David is, fits so well with this song. Swinging wildly between protectiveness and possessiveness, David mirrors the song’s progression throughout the piece. I think “Belongs to me” is the operative part of this title.

Recommended listening

“You’re Mine” Phantogran

“(No one’s gonna love you) / (No one’s gonna touch you) / ‘cause you’re mine! / (No one’s gonna look at you)”

“Always Forever” Cults

“You and me, always forever / We could stay alone together / You and me, always forever / Say you’ll stay, never be severed”

i assume you’ll be coming for blood (that makes two of us) | “Venom” Little Simz

Alright so… for real… this piece should have been named “is it wickedness? is it weakness?” after the first (or last, depending on how you play it) track on Kendrick Lamar’s “Damn.” That entire album is a work of art, and it can be played cohesively forward or backward, each play telling a different story. Forward is Kendrick’s life as it is, and backward is how it might have gone had his father died when he was young.

In this story, the inciting incident for Sweetness to be so different from the Sweetheart that we know is their mother dying when they were young. I’m positing here that Sweetheart in the main universe still has their mom and that’s why they’re kinder.

Anyway. I stand by “Venom” being a banger. It’s themes don’t run as cohesively with this story as Damn.‘s do, but I can live with it. For now.

Recommended listening

“Damn. Collectors Addition.” By Kendrick Lamar.

Yes the entire album. This particular edition, too, since it is the “wicked” timeline.

“Love’s gonna get you killed / but pride’s gonna be the death of you”

“United in Grief” Kendrick Lamar

“Pray none of my enemies / hold me captive / I grieve different”

remembering again the full extent of what forever is | “Through Me (The Flood)” Hozier

More Hozier! We know I love him and the new stuff he’s put out for Unreal Unearth and all of it’s EP’s are changing me fundamentally as a person. Hozier’s work has always connected with me deeply, all the way back to when I was a repressed queer kid listening to “Take Me To Church.” Now, as he’s putting out this big push of music, I’m finding myself connecting with the core of his music again. This song, a song about surrendering to the impossibility and incomprehensible nature of love, is perfect for William and Alexis. Will’s love for Alexis isn’t healthy, and it doesn’t lead him to sound choices, but he feels he has no choice. So he surrenders to it.

Recommended listening

“Eat Your Young” Hozier

“It’s a kindness / highness / crumbs enough for everyone / old and young are welcome to the meal”

“My Love Is Sick” Madds Buckley

“You’re an infection / I am keeping / No matter the sepsis / you are staying / I’d rather the wound / Than have you removed / Enough rotting for two / Killing me, keeping me high”

the world (it burns through me) | “Through Me (The Flood)” Hozier

Oh boy two for one! I for sure snagged this from the same song as the last piece I posted too. Yada yada surrendering to love and all of that. Love is something that’s has happened to Darlin, not something they have taken an active part in. They take the opposite message from William in this song; they fight the current, don’t let the world take them under. They are a fighter, in the end.

Recommended listening

Arsonists Lullaby” Hozier

“All you have is your fire / and the place you need to reach / don’t you ever tame your demons / but always keep them on a leash.”

“Problems” Mother Mother

“I’ve found love in the strangest place / ties up and branded / locked in a cage”

and my body remains (but the person is gone) | “Divine Loser” Clem Turner

Asher’s main trauma response in this piece is dissociation, pulling away from himself and his body to protect himself. While “Divine Loser” isn’t necessarily about dissociation, there are a number of apt lyrics that tie in with Ash in this story.

Recommended Listening

“To Someone From a Warm Climate (Uiscefhuaraithe)” Hozier

“You’d shake for minutes there and move your legs / wrap the blanket over you and keep your head within / let your breath heat the air until you’d feel it getting thin / Uiscefhuaraithe.”

“Wait” Get Set Go

“Wait, wait for the dawn, my dear / wait til the sun gets here / and you will wait too long / he will be gone”

when i call, you come home (a bird in your teeth) | “I Know The End” Phoebe Bridgers

Ooohhh boy! I love this song. Phoebe does something to me y’all. This song is sad, which makes it an interesting choice for a, generally, happy ending fic. This piece, like most things I write about the pack in childhood, is tinged with a sad sort of nostalgia. It’s the knowledge that we as readers have that, whatever comfort and love David gets from Gabe is temporary. We know how this story ends. We know that Gabe will die. And so even these happy moments are seen through that lens. I Know The End.

Recommended listening

“That Funny Feeling” Bo Burnham

“That unapparent summer air in early fall / the quiet comprehending of the ending of it all / there it is again, that funny feeling / that funny feeling.”

“Black Eyed Dog” Nick Drake

“I’m growing old and I wanna go home / I’m growing old and I don’t wanna know / I’m growing old and I want to go home / Black eyed dog, he called at my door / The black eyed dog he called for more.”

#redacted asmr #my redacted content #my redacted fic #redacted audio fic #redacted audio #crab anon #🦀 anon

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ifishouldvanish · 1 year ago

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(sorry, one more bc it's been on my mind for a long time)

I worry though, about... the dynamic. Can someone really find and bond with another through their grief and loneliness, without this grim depression they share becoming *worse?*

For me, personally, whenever I think about them... I think there's going to be a level of catharsis. They have something that would be very hard to find in another living being, and a certain love for humanity and the past that would be difficult to find among vampires, and this shapes them into shattered pieces which fit together. But would they still be able to find happiness? It kind of feels like they're two damaged clocks that have coincidentally been stuck on the same minute and hour hand. Would they be able to heal and move time forward?

Okay so like!!!!

I see it less about bonding over the shared grief itself and more about what their responses to that grief have exposed in each of them. Like, in the beginning and on the surface level, yes. It is the grief and loss and loneliness that brings them together. But they are foils!!! I'm telling you!!! They can learn from each other!!!

I've mentioned probably all of this before in scattered pieces across all my posts at some point but!! I think the lowest common denominator, the core of their dynamic, lies in how they seem to have established their senses of self.

Alucard struggles with how not to define himself by his father, and then having to define himself in opposition to his father. "Slave to our families' wishes" etc. And when that chapter of his life closes he's like, "welp, guess I'll just entomb myself here 🤷" until Trevor and Sypha are like "what?? Dude no??" And he's like "oh haha I guess you're right, I can uphold the legacy of the best parts of both of my parents!!" And they're like "ya!!" But then a month goes by without anyone coming round to say "hey!!! Share that knowledge with me!! Fulfill the role you've given yourself" and he is just... so fucking bored and unfulfilled?

He needed they-who-shall-not-be-named to come along so he could fill that role, needed Greta to come along so he could fill that role. He tells Greta about how rescuing others sort of fills a void for him/gives him purpose, which is honorable, yes. But like... It's also so sad imo?? This comfort in denying his sense of self? "I don't know what to do with myself, just gimme a shout if the world ever needs saving again"?? Like Alucard, honey, babygirl, sweetheart... you need to learn to live for yourself 🥺

Olrox on the other hand is... not selfish exactly, but he knows what he's about and he refuses compromise himself. You killed the only man I ever loved? Okay, then I'm killing you, and no, I don't care if your nine year old son witnesses it. You want the juicy story of why that boy is terrified of the big bad vampire? Okay, but you will learn about my humanity first so you can sit with your cognitive dissonance about it later. You think I'm just going to throw myself at your feet because you promise us all eternal night? How about you kindly go fuck yourself? You happily stump for Erzsebet because she promised you that she'll create a world that will allow you to relive your glory days? Couldn't be me!

Like obviously we have a much more limited viewpoint for Olrox because we know so much less about him and his past, but this is not a guy who's waiting for someone to give him a purpose. He acts alone, he doesn't play nice with others, he has his own agenda, and is even a little bit of a hedonist: investigating the relationship between the abbot and Erzsebet? Might as well fuck a hot monk while I'm at it. I said eat the rich, but I might as well look good doing it. You hate/fear me cause I killed your mom? Get over it already. You think the opera singing night creature is annoying? Well, I'm familiar enough with opera music to know he's actually reading you all for filth, so I think it's great!

I think at the end of the day, Alucard is a character who defines himself by others, not understanding why he still feels so empty and alone. And Olrox is a character who defines himself by his own terms, but in being caught between both human and vampire worlds has learned to push people away because he thinks he is better off that way. But by the end of the season, his worst fear is realized: I cannot do this alone. I am at the mercy of someone else's help.

But Olrox isn't like anyone else Alucard has rescued before. He's a fellow vampire. He's a fellow immortal. He's going to be around for as long as he is. And maybe, in that time, a little bit of that ego can start to rub off on Alucard. Maybe he can learn to live for himself without apology, without feeling like he has to atone for the sins of his father. Maybe, just maybe, he can learn to exist outside of the role of the mythical savior.

Because Olrox doesn't want one of those—heaven's no. He can take care of himself, thank you very much. But what if he could learn he doesn't always have to? Who better to restore his faith in the world than the guy who has his mother's conviction that all of this mess is worth saving so deeply ingrained in him that it's been the primary source of his identity for centuries?

I'm starting to ramble here so I hope this is coherent, but in conclusion: they would be so restorative for each other and look so hot together and that is why I believe in Alurox supremacy 🙏

#castlevania nocturne #Olrox #Alucard #adrian tepes #Alucard x Olrox #alurox

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slothquisitor · 8 months ago

Text

What Moves in the Dark: Chapter Eighteen

A post-campaign Baldur’s Gate 3 eldritch horror AU.

Chapter summary: The group returns to Ramazith's Tower to celebrate their victory. Here there be smut. If that's not your cup of tea, I support you. Simply stop reading at the break when it switches to Astarion's POV. <3

Read from the beginning.

Also on AO3.

__________________________________________________________

“We were able to pinpoint where the uvuudaum was because my brother infected himself with tainted blood, there’s another entrance a few blocks away,” Liv replies. She feels as though she’s been repeating herself for the last two hours as she and all of the rest of their companions are questioned relentlessly by members of the Watch and Flaming Fist who have swarmed the Caldwell estate.

There seems to be some question of jurisdiction, and the murder of Lord Wyllyck is only complicating things. Her brother and Astarion have had the longest and most intense interrogations. Having Investigator Devella able to corroborate much of their story is not nearly as helpful as Liv would have believed. The fact that their group as well as all the uvuudaum’s victims have emerged from a hidden door in a drawing room covered in blood is probably not helping their case for early release. In fairness, she, Gale, and Roland had done their best to prestidigitate the worst of the blood away, but they’re all still a mess. She needs a nap and bath, and she’s tired enough to not be picky about the order.

“And where was this entrance?” The Fist asks.

“I already gave that information to your colleague. It’s in the retaining wall behind two houses on Turl Street.”

The questions continue like that for a while, but finally, the Fist turns on his heel and strides away without another word, and Liv stays in her seat, fighting her exhaustion. Kharis is free too, the Watch member interviewing him has stepped away, so he walks over and sits down.

“Are you alright?” he asks. He’s dressed for travel, gray cloak still about his shoulders. He’s trimmed his red beard some too. His husband, Wynn will be pleased.

She’s a little bruised and trying desperately not to think about everything she saw when she closed the portal, but she’s also exhilarated. “Yes, I am. Thank you for showing up. I had gotten worried when I wasn’t hearing from you.”

He sighs, leaning back in the chair as she’s seen him do so many times in the workroom. “That sort of magic doesn’t come easily to me. We didn’t have much information. When I showed up at Candlekeep with the tainted blood in tow, we immediately began analyzing it, but finding anything concrete…we had theories. Nothing helpful. Until your last message.”

“Oh?”

“You talked about a host…how it could all communicate…and then how it took someone. Of all the possibilities we were entertaining, an uvuudaum was the only creature that fit. Your brother got the spell written down, and because you cannot teleport inside Candlekeep we had to run outside the enchantment. Roland and I didn’t want to waste time or magic to tell you that we were on the way.”

She remembers reading about that once. That there is no teleportation near Candlekeep. She wonders how far they had to run, and smiles a bit at the image of her brother and Kharis sprinting away from the library city. “I’m just glad you’re alright and grateful you came to help.”

He nods. “I’m sorry I didn’t go to get help sooner, but it seems like you managed to gather some powerful allies without me.”

“They all showed up to save Astarion,” she said. “The vampire you kicked out of our shop.”

Kharis laughs. “Yeah, I see that my religious convictions had no effect on your befriending him. But…it seems like it’s a bit more than that, isn’t it?” He doesn’t sound mad, mostly exasperated.

“A bit more than that,” she agrees. “But I think all these people showing up to save him should speak volumes about his character.”

“I don’t give a fuck what they think, but if you say he’s a good man, that’s enough for me.”

“Really?”

“If this whole saga has taught me anything, it’s that between the two of us, yours is perhaps the better judgment of character and danger and probably everything else too. I’m an old mercenary, Liv. I’ve spent far too much of my life distrusting everyone around me. I opened that shop to do some good, and you reminded me of that,” Kharis says.

Astarion strides over to them and sighs. “Well, I do believe we have waded through enough of the bureaucratic red tape to finally be allowed to leave.”

“Finally,” Liv replies.

Astarion glances rather expectantly between her and Kharis, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Kharis simply stands. “I have a husband to surprise, and I’d very much like to not see you working for at least the next three days.” Then he glances to Astarion. “Can you help me force her to rest?”

Astarion grins wickedly. “Well, I can certainly keep her from working, but rest isn’t something I can promise.”

She rubs her eyes. “I promise to rest, maybe even sleep for the next three days?”

“Good enough.” And then Kharis picks up his axe leaning by the door and leaves.

“He didn’t threaten me this time, so I feel like that went well,” Astarion grins.

“It certainly went a way…well isn’t how I’d describe it,” she says, more amused than annoyed.

He extends a hand to her. “Come on, we’re all going to Ramazith’s Tower.”

She takes his hand. “All of us? My brothers too?”

“It seemed rude not to invite them.”

She sighs. “I suppose I do have to talk to them at some point, don’t I?”

As they leave the Caldwell Estate, it is nearly dawn in Baldur’s Gate. Their group is loud in the streets. Shadowheart and Veska are telling Jaheira all about the menagerie of animals they have at their cottage, while Minsc boasts to Gale all about his recent adventures with the Guild and helping rebuild the city. Her brothers hang close, but they’re not exactly joining the chatter. She knows she needs to talk to them, to both of them, but she’s not sure what to say. Especially to Percy.

Astarion has noticed her attention snag on them, and he gives her hand a squeeze. “Go on, far easier to fireball them out here than in the tower.”

He’s not wrong, but she’s hopeful that the conversation won’t go that poorly. She drifts their way, in the chaos earlier, she hadn’t been able to properly catalog the passage of time, of all the ways her brother has changed. Roland looks different, older. His hair is longer than she’s ever seen it and he has the faintest hint of a beard, but there’s a lightness to him she doesn’t remember. Candlekeep has been good to him. He and Percy look rather at ease with each other, and she realizes that he must have known about Percy’s true loyalties. It stings a little, but she’s too tired to be angry about it.

“You feeling alright?” she asks Percy. Astarion had confirmed that the tainted blood was all gone, but there’s a part of her that worried that it couldn’t be that simple, that even with the uvuudaum banished there might be some lingering effects.

Percy smirks. “Is that concern I hear?”

“Well, I did kill you,” Liv shrugs.

Roland looks between them both. “You did what?”

“It was a spell,” Liv explains.

Roland shakes his head in exasperation. “Oh, and that makes it fine?”

“She had my permission,” Percy replies.

“We’re certainly not short on drama in this family, are we?”

It’s less awkward than she imagined, talking with them. Though she still feels like she’s still on the outside of something, not quite part of their ease with each other. She glances at Percy. “I owe you an apology.”

Percy shakes his head. “You don’t. You saw exactly what I wanted you to see. If anyone owes an apology, it’s me.”

“I’ve been telling him to just go talk to you for the last six months,” Roland says.

“You two were in contact that much?” She hates the way her voice sounds so small. So Roland would talk to Percy, but not return her letters?

Roland looks uncomfortable but nods. “Here and there. He contacted when you left home.”

“I was so damn proud of you, I had to tell someone,” Percy says, voice quiet.

She is so surprised she doesn’t know what to say. He’d been proud of her? For leaving?

“I hadn’t heard from him in years and suddenly there’s his voice in my ear telling me all about you,” Roland says with a smile laced with apology. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to say, how to reach back out to you…and then Kharis shows up at Candlekeep. He sought me out immediately, and said he knew I was there because of you. It seemed like a good enough opening, but I had hoped to show up with answers rather than arriving to chaos…”

And it still hurts, but they’d both shown up when it mattered, and she’s not sure if she’s ever had anyone show up for her like that. Certainly not her own family. And it doesn’t fix the years or the distance or the pain, but maybe this can be a start. “Thank you both, for everything.”

There’s plenty going unsaid between her and Percy, but she thinks Astarion might have been right. He had infected himself, helped with all of this because he wanted to show her that he did care. She’d been wrong, and even though they’re almost strangers to each other, maybe they won’t always be.

Roland straightens his robes and leans down conspiratorially. “So, am I going to be given a proper introduction to all these important people, or will I simply have to guess who they are from the stories?”

She laughs. “You did show up in the heat of battle, I don’t think anyone was very concerned with introductions.”

But she and Percy point everyone out, telling him names and stories. She surprises herself by laughing and joking with them. Time is a funny thing, it can feel so very long, and yet so short. Talking with them she is thrust back in time, to one of the good days. Every memory with her siblings isn’t brimming with pain, there were good times too. She just wishes Brelia was here to see this moment.

Ramazith’s tower rises before them, the tallest levels catching the first rays of sunlight peeking over Dusthawk Hill. Their group hurries inside as if they are all as sensitive to the sun as Astarion is.

Rolan, Cal, and Lia are still gathered in the large sitting area. Lia looks like she had dozed off at some point, while Cal and Rolan seemed to be playing a game of lanceboard to keep themselves awake.

“Astarion!” All three siblings are on their feet and hurrying over to him.

“I’m so glad you’re safe!” Lia says around a yawn.

Cal pat his arm. “We kept telling her you’d be fine.”

Astarion keeps his chin up, his tone nonchalant. “Oh come now, I’m always fine. Takes a hells of a lot more than that to keep me down.” And he’s playing it off, but it’s clear he’s touched in the same way he was when he realized his friends had come to rescue him. He might never say it, but she’s pretty sure that the siblings catch the undercurrent of gratitude anyway.

Rolan brings out drinks and food and everyone in the group collapses somewhere in the sitting area. There is a sort of practiced air to it. All of these people are used to fighting together, used to the aftermath, and in this, there is a sort of ritual. A push and a pull, a checking in on everyone without actually asking how anyone is. It’s fascinating to watch from the relative safety of the sidelines while Gale and Astarion fill the siblings in on the events of the evening.

Eventually, Veska makes her way over, rather tentatively. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

“Couldn’t help but notice that…uh…things with your brother were a little strained earlier?” Veska says, keeping her voice low enough not to be overheard. Percy and Roland are talking with Jaheira and Minsc, so there’s little chance of that, but she appreciates her discretion.

“Bit of an understatement,” Liv replies.

“So I’d gathered. I…wanted to apologize if I made it worse, but honestly, I owe Percy a great deal.”

“So I’d gathered,” Liv echoes with a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset with you…there’s just a lot of painful family history we all need to work through. I think we’re making some headway there.”

“I know a little about that,” Veska says raising her glass in solidarity. “Did you know I have a sister?”

“Oh shit.” Liv has known Veska’s family her whole life, but if there’s one thing she’s familiar with, it is the ability of the wealthy and powerful to bury those things they would rather have everyone forget.

“I haven’t seen her in a long time, and there’s a lot about her I thought was true and wasn’t. Shitty parents tend to twist things…I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but if I had the opportunity to see my sister again, there’s a lot I’d want to say. Your brothers are here. They showed up for you.”

“They did.” And it means more than she can say. “I’m sure when you see your sister again you’ll get the chance to say everything you’ve wanted to.”

“It’s been a very long time, but hey, we’re both disowned now, so at least we’ll have that in common.” Veska has always been sunny in her disposition, and though they’ve never been close, Liv can see that there’s a confidence and a brightness about her now.

Liv offers her a smile. “It’s not the worst club in the world to be in.”

“I did want to tell you that your leaving gave me the courage to go too.”

Josie had said something to that effect, but Liv hadn’t quite believed it to be true. And it’s hard to believe now. “Really?”

“You’re Liv Fucking Vires. Hard not to be inspired,” Veska says with a wink.

Liv isn’t sure what to say to that, so instead she turns it back around to Veska. “But you’re happy, away from the city?”

Veska’s gaze wanders to Shadowheart. “I am.” And then with a smile and a gentle squeeze of her hand, she’s gone, meeting Shadowheart at the base of the stairs before they head up to the promised rooms to rest.

Liv glances around at the celebration that is rapidly winding down. It wasn’t so much a party as it was an excuse to eat everything in sight and retell every aspect of the battle piece by piece. But as the sun rises, the exhaustion has begun to set in. Liv feels it too, it makes her limbs heavy. No part of her wants to make her way back to her apartment, so she stays sitting, hoping for energy to find her.

Astarion swoops in then fresh off a murmured conversation with Gale who has gone upstairs now as well. He reclines casually against the arm of the couch rather than joining her fully. He bends down to whisper in her ear. “Stay here with me.”

She twists to look at him, to read his intention. She wants to say yes so badly. “You’re sure?”

He smiles. “Very.”

She catches her brothers’ attention before she goes. “I’ll see you both, soon?”

Percy glances out the window, at the cheery morning sun and looks as tired as she feels. “Let’s do dinner tomorrow. Give us all some time to recover.”

Dinner. With her brothers. That’ll be something new. “Sounds great.” And she means it.

And then she lets Astarion lead her up the stairs and to his room. The magic of the tower still sets her teeth on edge, but it’s not so bad once they’re actually in his room, and it occurs to her that’s probably because the room itself is in a demiplane rather than the actual tower. That certainly explains why there’s no issue with space or unexpected guests here.

“You know, I had intended to invite you here after the party,” Astarion says.

“But best-laid plans and all that?”

He sighs. “Well, we did finally make it, though we are both a mess.” He strides purposefully over to his desk and begins unbuckling his armor.

She knows that the worst of the blood is gone, but she can still feel it lingering like an oily sheen against her skin. “I wouldn’t mind cleaning up before going to bed.”

“Same. The bathing chamber is through there, you can clean up first,” Astarion says pointing towards a darkened doorway that stands ajar, turning away from her. “Unless…”

She turns and he looks rather unsure, so she prompts him, doing her best to sound utterly neutral. “Unless?”

He meets her gaze full on, the silence stretching taut between them. “The tub is big enough for two…if you wouldn’t mind the company.” He seems to be batting the nervousness away by trying to be smooth, but it’s not really working. Still, it is rather endearing.

She recognizes it for the show of trust that it is, so she doesn’t tease. Not about this. “I’d like that.”

She waits while he discards the last of his armor, and then he joins her and together they go into his bathing chamber. It is quite large, and he was right, it does seem that the tub will be big enough for them both.

“Perks of a wizard tower, I’m told,” he says, touching a rune on the side of the tub that immediately fills it with water.

“Or simply having money,” she replies, having grown up with similar accommodations.

“And here I thought I might impress you,” he says, coming to stand in front of her.

“You know that you don’t need to impress me, right? I’m already here, and I don’t have any expectations,” she says. “But I would like to know how much of you I can have right now.”

His eyes widen a bit with the question, before softening as he brings a hand to her shoulder. “I’ve never been with someone like this before…without it leading to more. I’d like to be with you…touch you, but nothing more. Can we simply try that?”

Life has not been kind to Astarion, but still, he reaches for it. Still, he tries. She finds herself perpetually in awe at his commitment to living, to freedom. And she feels rather honored that he feels safe enough to try with her. She cups his cheek and cannot help but smile. “I’m way too tired for anything more than that. I almost cried at the thought of walking home.”

He looks relieved. “Well, glad we’re on the same page then.”

“Have I told you have glad I am you’re okay? I was so worried about you.”

He rests his forehead on hers. “I was worried about me too, and then you came to the rescue like some ethereal knight in shining armor.”

“I heard you liked adventure stories. Though I didn’t quite expect to be living one.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like a few months of relative quiet before the next world-ending threat to solve.”

“Deal.”

His hands skim her waist, clever fingers working at the tie of her shirt, eyes never leaving hers. Each movement is deliberate, slow; she sees the question in his eyes, and she offers him a nod. His hands are cool against her skin, gentle as they trail over her bruised side and shoulder. He doesn’t kiss her as he undresses her, and she wishes she could read his mind, know what he’s thinking. But his crimson gaze is soft, almost full of awe, so she lets him strip her bare, and she doesn’t reach for him.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, eyes roving hungrily over her body. She wants to look at him too, so she reaches slowly for his shirt. He catches her hands, head bowing slightly. “I have some scars…a portion of an infernal contract.”

And before she can say anything in response, he turns his back to her and removes his shirt. She understands now that there is something more vulnerable about showing her this than simply being naked together. Unable to tolerate being at a disadvantage, he has stripped her bare before showing her this, putting them on a more even footing. The scar is circular, jagged and cruel. She steps close, places a hand against it gently; his breath catches, so she leans forward and presses a kiss against the raised skin. She can feel the way his shoulders relax at the contact.

She steps around him so that she’s in front of him once again, his eyes are wide with trepidation, so she moves slowly as she cups his cheek. He leans into the touch. “We all carry the scars of our past in one way or another. Neither of us are defined by the choices other people made.”

He rests his forehead against hers. “Touch me again.” The words are a plea, laced with uncertainty as if he is unsure if he can trust them.

Trailing a hand down his neck to his shoulder, she wraps an arm around his lower back and pulls him close. She runs her hands down the smooth expanse of his chest, his skin is soft, smooth as stone. She has always known he is built lithely, all broad shoulders and a graceful waist…but he is also thin…he hasn’t been feeding as often as he ought to. She makes note of it, files it away for later discussion, and keeps running her hands over his skin. He makes a quiet sound as she touches him, and then as if he cannot stop himself his fingers work into her hair, pulling it loose from the bun, the pins dropping to the floor. He presses a kiss against her neck while his fingers tunnel into the hair near her scalp. She shivers at the contact, at the way he smiles against her skin.

“Get in the tub, I’ll join you in a moment.”

She’s letting him set the pace here, tell her what he wants, so she nods and turns her back to him, sliding into the warm water. She immediately feels better, the warmth sinking into sore muscles and banishing the aches from her bruises. Gently rubbing at her arms, she banishes the blood and sweat from her skin, already feeling cleaner even as she dips her head beneath the water.

Astarion joins her then, settling in behind her, a soft brush of fingers along her shoulder before handing her a bar of citrus-smelling soap. Liv is sure that there’s some more sensual way of doing all of this, but she’s tired and desperately wants the blood and sweat of the day washed away, and it’s clear Astarion does too, since he goes about scrubbing his own skin clean without delay.

It is only once they are both finished that he leans back against the side of the tub, and pulls her with him, arms folding on her bare stomach. She melts against him, warm and content. His fingers trace lines down her skin, gentle brushes that feel almost reverent in the sputtering candlelight of the room.

“This is nice,” he whispers.

She closes her eyes and leans more fully into him. “It is.”

The backs of his fingers skate slowly up her arm, brushing against her jaw and neck. She turns her head a little, baring her neck. “You can feed; I don’t mind.”

“You’re injured,” he replies indignantly, but it’s half-hearted enough that she knows she won’t have to do much to convince him.

“I have a few bruises that Shadowheart already tended to. Drink.”

The water splashes a bit as he rearranges them both enough to reach her neck, and she feels the cool press of his lips against her skin. She knows better what to expect now that she’s already done this once. He holds her steady before he bites down, the bright flash of pain fading to numbness quickly. He cradles her rather tenderly as he drinks, and it’s easy to melt into his touch, and soon he pulls away, his tongue laving the excess blood off her skin. She feels a bit light-headed, that’s all.

“Thank you,” he whispers before leaning back again against the edge of the tub, pulling her with him. They stay there for a long while, she knows she is dozing because she keeps coming to find the candles have burned lower. Astarion must have noticed too because she can feel his body shake with a quiet laugh. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He hands her a towel and one of his shirts as they emerge from the bath, skin wrinkled, but clean. She’s grateful for his shirt since it saves her from trying to figure out what of her clothing is salvageable for sleep. He waits for her to braid her hair, and then leads her by the hand to his bed, where they crawl beneath the covers.

She settles against the pillows, getting comfortable, and manages to catch a glimpse of Astarion in the darkness watching her, looking a little lost. And this is probably a first for him too.

“Want to cuddle?” she asks simply, and he nods as he closes the distance.

He rests his head against her chest, his ear placed just over her heart, their legs tangled together. She runs her fingers through his soft curls until sleep overtakes her.

***

Astarion wakes long before Liv, but he doesn’t mind. She was clearly exhausted; he doesn’t want to wake her anyway. The quiet is punctuated by her steady breathing, and he is strangely content. She sleeps on her side, facing away from him, so he gently curls up around her, enjoying the closeness, the novelty of being with someone like this.

She shifts a little as he settles behind her but doesn’t wake. Astarion has never been able to be with someone like this or in the way they were together last night. He’s still pleasantly surprised that he had been naked with someone and it hadn’t led to sex. It was just like she had said: no expectations, no pressure. She had asked how much of him she could have, and he had wanted to tell her everything .

He is rather hopelessly in love with her. He’s pretty sure he’s been in love with her for a while, and he can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but he was finally able to put a name to the feeling last night when she had kissed his scars and told him that he isn’t defined by his past. She’s right, of course, and when she wakes, he’s ready to shake the last of his past away.

Last night had been a testing of the waters, quite literally. He needed to know how he’d feel that close to her, close to her in that way. He had lain awake alone in the darkness, waiting for any sign of disgust or shame, but all he’d wanted was more with a sort of desperate urgency. He had been snatched, locked away, made a prisoner once again, and now he needs, more than anything, to take something back. He wants to be in control of himself, wholly. He wants to try, to be reminded that he is alive and free.

But that all can wait until she wakes, and he will quite happily lay here with her until then. Because there is nothing pressing on their time, nowhere they need to be, no problems to solve. It is rather freeing.

When Liv finally stirs, her hand traces the length of the arm he has banded about her middle, until her fingers can tangle with this. “Morning,” she says, voice deeper with the dregs of sleep still hanging on.

He laughs. “I’m quite positive it is early evening, actually.”

She twists to face him. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t have anywhere to be until tomorrow then.”

“For all sorts of reasons,” he says, voice dripping with promise.

“Oh?”

Saying it out loud makes it real, gives her the opportunity to ask him about it, and he’d rather show her. So he closes the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss that is neither gentle nor careful. He’s surprised her, he can tell by the soft sound she makes when their lips meet. His tongue dips into her mouth, experimentally, he’s never had the occasion to wake up beside someone and then move to other things, and he’s still half convinced she might stop him. But she doesn’t, her tongue meets his, and her hands run across his chest. He reaches for the bare expanse of her leg, all she wears beyond her underwear is his shirt, and there’s something unbelievably sexy about that. He hooks her leg over his, bringing their hips flush together as she arches against him.

The moan that escapes him as his hardening cock brushes against the warmth of her has nothing to do with performance or seduction, it is compulsory. Desire frantically bolts through him, honest and insistent. He is altogether too aware of everywhere she’s touching him, the way that warmth radiates from her touch like every point of contact is vibrating. He discards his shirt in a fluid movement, eager to feel more of her.

He nips at her lower lip and rolls her back so that she is below him and he can more easily seek the friction he’s desperately craving. He rolls his hips into hers and swallows down the low, hungry sound that emanates from her as their kiss deepens. His hand slips higher up the smooth skin of her stomach, inching the shirt up and revealing more of her skin to him.

She turns her head, and he takes the opportunity to kiss down her neck and across her exposed collarbone, but then he feels her push him back, putting distance between them. “Astarion.” His name is laced with a question.

He pulls back enough to see that her green eyes are dark with desire, but her face is pinched with concern. “Is this alright? Is it what you want?”

Because if it isn’t, he knows that it could all stop here, stop at any time and she would be alright with that. He trusts her, feels safe with her, seen in ways he’s not sure he ever has been. “Yes. I…didn’t want to push things before. I didn’t want you to become another one of my regrets, but I could never regret you. I love you.”

He watches the effect of his declaration, the way her eyes widen in surprise before softening, before she touches his cheek, fingers nearly trembling. “You do?”

“I love you,” he says again. He’s said these words to people before, but he’s never meant them. And it does feel different to offer them to her, to watch the way she smiles brilliantly at the words.

“I love you too.” The words are soft, but they hit him with a force that feels as though it could have knocked him clean over. The words seem to course right through him, landing somewhere beneath his sternum, taking up residence there. He feels a light sort of giddiness. He knew she cared, but it is another thing entirely to hear it from her lips.

He cannot help the smile that spans his own face. “I’d like to try…with you.”

“You mean sex?”

“Well, we did cure a blood disease and banish a blood monster back to the Far Realm, so it does seem like the natural next step,” he deadpans.

“Naturally,” she agrees but then grows more serious. “We don’t…”

He cuts her off. “I know. I want to.”

“I do too,” she admits. “Though, do we need to worry about contraception?” Oh, he’s not used to fielding this question, it was never much of a concern before.

“Thankfully, no. Vampire spawn can’t reproduce. We have nothing to worry about in that regard, though…perhaps it would be good to go slowly?”

“Alright, what do you like?”

The question is asked playfully, with a smile, a gentle means of feeling him out, and he wishes he could play along, that it could ever be that simple. Instinct tells him to make a suggestive joke, to tell her to do whatever she likes, but he knows that’s not what this is. Honest, vulnerable, all of his armor stripped away, that is the only way this can work for him.

“I don’t know what I like,” he whispers. What he wanted or enjoyed hadn’t really mattered. He had tried once to use his conquests the same way they used him, but finding pleasure in someone fated to die felt rather cruel even by his standards, and it was never as enjoyable as he hoped. It was an exercise in futility to care about what he wanted or liked anyway, so he’d simply stopped paying attention. And now he has no idea what feels good or doesn’t. He watches the words hit, watches her process the invariably sad admission.

He expects a deferment, that somehow he has managed to cut this off before it can really begin, but she simply pulls him closer. “Well, it’s a good thing I enjoy research then, isn’t it?”

She kisses him then, it’s different from before, not careful exactly, but watchful almost. And he wants nothing more than to get lost in her, so he does. She is everywhere, warm, inviting, perfect. He can’t seem to touch enough of her, and the feeling seems mutual, he keeps pressing himself into her touch, looking for more. She shifts her weight, urging him onto his back, and he complies. She sits up over him, tosses her long, dark hair over her shoulder, and puts distance between them he doesn’t want. He indicates as much by catching her hand, trying to pull her back into him, but she rebuffs him by nipping at his knuckles.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there if you want,” she says. “Take these off?” she gestures at his pants but doesn’t reach for him.

“If I do that, you’ll be overdressed.”

“Are you trying to negotiate?”

He fluffs the pillow below him and settles in, indicating that he could wait all day. “Sure.”

“Together then?” she says, toying with the hem of the shirt. He nods and begins removing his pants as she discards the shirt, revealing the untracked expanse of her skin. She is so buttoned up most of the time, he had expected that she might be shy about her body, but she’s not. He had hardly gotten to look his fill when they’d bathed together, so he takes his time now. There’s a slight flush across her chest that dips down to the tops of her lovely, round breasts. There’s still some bruising across her shoulder and ribs, but it’s mottled and fading instead of the brilliant purple it had been last night.

She leans in and catches his hand, bringing it to rest with hers on the jut of his hip bone. “Show me how to touch you.”

Every thought eddies out of his head, everything except her, her touch. He can feel all of her attention on him, eyes watchful as her other hand finds his. He thinks he might die if she doesn’t begin touching him soon, so he covers her hands with hers and begins moving them across his skin. He shivers at the dual sensation of both their hands against his skin, moving slowly, drawing out the intoxicating torture of soft touches before finally leading her hands down his chest and stomach, guiding her to the hard jut of his cock. Her hand follows without hesitation, wraps around him boldly and he sees stars.

He’s dimly aware that his hands have fallen to his sides, of the way they clench at the sheets and the way his lungs have emptied of air. She pumps him, slowly, torturously, and he leans into the pleasure of it. He opens his eyes, unsure when he closed them, and she is there, cataloging his every reaction, every movement with those clever green eyes of hers. Like with anything else, Liv is careful with this, intentional. He feels stripped utterly bare, down to all his broken parts, but she looks at him like he is whole, and maybe just now, he is. Their eyes meet, and he can see the satisfaction in her gaze, and then she leans down and kisses his hipbone, a clear question in her eyes.

He doesn’t trust himself for words, so he simply nods. She kisses further in, moves her hand enough to run her tongue along the length of him before taking him into her mouth. He can’t help but touch her then, his fingers in her hair, feather-light. He doesn’t need to guide or push her, he instead needs an anchor. He is unmoored, undone by her. His whole body seems to tense and relax at intervals as pleasure takes him, and a ragged sound escapes his throat. It feels so good that it is almost too good. He cups her cheek, slowing her very good work. “No more,” he manages, the words strained.

With some effort, he coaxes her up his body. She kisses his jaw before looking into his eyes. “Still with me?”

Because he had told her once that sometimes during the act he was anywhere but here. But he wants nothing more than to be present here and now. “I’m with you. Now come here.”

He flips them in one quick movement that puts her beneath him. He pins her down with a fierce, hungry kiss against her smiling mouth. Skin against skin, there is nothing keeping him from the warmth of her. Their thighs tangle together, and he can feel her racing pulse. She is so vibrant, so very alive.

His fingers tangle with hers, and he pulls back just enough to whisper, “Show me how to touch you.”

He swallows down her answering laughter, but her hand leads his to the swell of her breast. He follows her lead happily, swiping a thumb across her nipple, feeling the way it hardens under his ministrations. She is breathless, chest heaving even as she guides his hand down beneath her underwear and into the tangle of dark curls between her thighs. She arches into him as he dips his fingers inside of her. She’s already wet and waiting. He swallows down her low moan, biting her lower lip and then working his way down her neck, across her collarbone while his fingers work in and out of her and his thumb circles her clitoris.

There’s a flush to her cheeks and her hips move against his hand, seeking further friction even as he feels her inner walls tightening. He hooks his fingers ruthlessly, pressing in deeper, and watches as the orgasm takes her. She’s beautiful like this, head thrown back in pleasure, chest heaving, his name on her lips.

There’s a feeling in his chest, a tightness that’s torn between drawing this out, making it last as long as possible, and a bone-deep need for more, more, more. He captures her lips in a kiss that’s just this side of punishing and eases her underwear down her legs. There’s nothing between them now, and he marvels at how easily they fit against each other, her warmth seeping into his skin, spreading through him. “I want you. I want this, all of it. Can we…?”

She cradles his face in her hands, fingers gentle as they sweep across his cheekbones. “Yes.”

It is so easy then to shift his hips and slowly press into her. Her thighs wrap around his waist as if she cannot get close enough. He begins to move, languidly at first, enjoying the feel of being inside her. But the more he moves with her, the more he feels as though his heart is splitting at the seams as if his own rib cage might open up and his heart leap out to her. She might be below him, but he is wholly at her mercy.

Her hands run along his back, fingernails scraping carefully against his shoulder blades. Waves of sensation roar through him, and the sound of her breathing is in his ears as she unravels beneath him. He picks up his pace, feeling the thundering of her heartbeat as if it is echoing in his own chest. There is the slightest compulsion to perform, to tell her how good she feels, to whisper any of the meaningless things he’s used to, but instead, he simply says her name, like it is a prayer, an anchor keeping him here.

She comes around him with a sigh, and he presses his face into her neck, worrying his teeth against soft flesh as his own release builds within him. He lets go of the careful control he has held to, to the rhythm he’d established, simply seeking his own pleasure now. She holds him like he’s precious, and it is easy then to follow her over pleasure’s glimmering edge.

Her fingers are in his hair, gently raising his head enough to look at her, boneless as he is. “I love you,” she says breathlessly.

Is this what it feels like, to be with someone wholly? It feels almost too big to hold, he thinks his eyes might be burning from the profound relief of it all. “I love you too.”

“You’re still with me?” she asks.

He kisses her again, amazed that he can, that he wants to, that somehow he hasn’t gotten his fill, that he doesn’t feel hollowed out. “Always.”

#astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #tavstarion #bg3 fanfiction #what moves in the dark #astarion x liv #slothquisitorwrites

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the-plagueis-crew · 6 months ago

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My first draft for my "Cold, selfish bastard muse", kinda Rant-ey.

So he's a Mindflayer, and technically, Mindflayers don't have biological sexes or genitalia since they reproduce through hosts, right? That's interesting and all, but this is a smut blog. So Im'ma change that for my muse. Only him, though. Other flayers are still sexless.

Basically long ago, when the magic hating ilithid empire was going strong, one magically inclined (Sorcerer) ilithid, called Laz, decided to study the reproduction methods of inferior species, so he saw a lot of stuff, but most commonly he saw sexual intercourse. A lot of it, and decided to experience it himself.

After a lot of (Magically aided) body augmentation and trying out all sorts of sex, being both the "male" and the "female", he realized he most enjoyed having a penis and being the one doing the penetrating when having sex. These experiments and his magical abilities were then found by the rest of the Ilithid empire, and were deemed degeneracy, and mutation beyond pardon, so they cut him off from the hive mind, and strapped him with a device that would allow him to live with a singular mind. They them exiled him to the material realm.

Now with a mind his own, a name he himself chose, and a fascination with women's bodies, he roams the land, using his powers and amassing power, so he can live a hedonistic, sex filled life were he doesn't have to worry about anything. Oh, he also feeds on stuff other than brains, too, though he does have some favoritism to munching on thinkers.

His ultimate goal though, is to find out why after being excised from the hive mind, he begins having flashes to the life he once had, before he became a Flayer. Back when he was an elf.

Basically, him being an elf explains his long ass lifespan, gives him a sort of "maybe I'll become a good guy if certain things happen" vibe and why he doesn't sleep like other ilithid.

He is also really fucking selfish, both in and out of bed, he uses magic and mind power to appear normal while walking around, and is no stranger to mind control or coercion to get some. By the way, he's a Chaotic Neutral bastard with a capital B. So I can play him as evil as you'd like.

Gimme suggestions on how to change anything if it doesn't fit too well. I really feel like when I finally do a vampire/Lich muse, that'll be my 'mustache twirling evil mastermind BBEG' muse. Ilithids are cool final bosses don't get me wrong, but I kinda wanna do one thats basically a nobody, and thats why he's 'dangerous.'

Also, his dick could be just a tentacle or an actual dick, maybe a semi-hard, flexible tentacle-dick. Dunno, could be fun to mess around with that.

Anyways, that's it for now.

#clinic's closed! || ooc

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monstersinthecosmos · 1 year ago

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I have no intention of watching the new IWTV show, but I was wondering why you think Armand's characterization was so bad. I kinda hated how Antonio Banderas played him in the 1994 movie (not on its own, just in comparison to the books - I feel like his personality/demeanor was totally different), so it's sad that they still haven't gotten him right... Judging from pictures alone, I did think the casting for him was more fitting this time. Anyway, just curious to hear your thoughts!

Oh man!!!!!!!!! I do wanna say up front, I think Antonio was NOT A GREAT ARMAND but I like those scenes in the movie so much because they feel SO RICEY to me. Like I LOVE Movie!Armand even though he isn't Book!Armand, and if you read IWTV in good faith it's the only book that doens't harp on Armand looking like a smol uwu cherub so like ! SURE. He definitely still brings the calm nurturing mentor vibe in a huge way and the scenes in his room feel the most like the books to me.

I also know from the director's commentary that they specifically wanted Armand to look like that so that the Europe vampires would feel like OLD WORLD SCARY vs like, another twink lol. So he's got a little more of a tropey Dracula vibe going on and I think like as a visual contrast it works really well.

As far as the show; I think Assad is EXCELLENT. And like the whole fandom was joking even when the credits hit IMDB that it was gonna be Armand because everyone was like "OHH ARRIGHT.. LOUIS'S """""ASSISTANT"""""" OKAY !" so like I was one of the conspiracy theorists looking for clues the whole time. And his MANNERISMS are dead on and gave him away before anything else did. I have zero issue with the actor, I think he's so spooky and a complete smokeshow which Armand DESERVES. And I wish I could like the show for him, I really do! But it's just NOT WORKING FOR ME.

I'll put the rest under a cut cause it got lengthy and I'm not trying to like be a downer on anyone's dashboard but TLDR the show is so completely unrecognizable to me and I think it would've been so much better as an original concept, and personally I'm not excited by randos who share names with the books I read. The show is a hit! People really like it! But idk like showing me these two random ass men and saying "Hey this is Daniel and Armand" doesn't excite me because the story they're showing me actually ISNT Daniel and Armand lol. I'm here for the story!!! I'm not here for Easter Eggs!

Here's my main few gripes with how they wrote Armand which I find mega disappointing:

He spends 6.9/7 episodes pretending to be Louis's assistant named Rashid. WHY! LOL. Why would he do that! DANIEL DOESN'T REMEMBER HIM ANYWAY SO WHY???????? I DONT UNDERSTAND. Like Armand is a weirdo but is he THIS WEIRD? idk. idk.

The show also (in my opinion!) horrifically botched Lestat, but there's like this grain of doubt because the show has a theme of memory being unreliable, so the speculation is that maybe Armand planted a skewed version of events in Louis's head? Even the show runner sort of hinted at this? LIKE I HATE THIS?? Because if we get to S2 and it turns out that Lestat's been misrepresented, it then turns the tables and makes it that ARMAND is the one who's horrifically botched????? Like I'm all for silly Armand jokes and memes and whatever but like. sigh idk i just looked really forward to this show and hoped to see Armand on screen and I didn't really want a meme version of him. ((Also as an aside I really dislike the unreliable memory themes on the show the way they're presented because like the books frame unreliable narration as like interpretive and emotional but the vampire lore canonically is that they have like mega supernatural photographic memory? idk. If memory is faulty because they still have that human fallibility it's one thing unless they're saying Armand planted memories in Louis's head??? idk idk.))

And like speaking towards whether or not Armand is a person who would plant false memories in Louis's head; I concede that he psychically influenced Louis to join him in IWTV but like. ARMAND IS A NUANCED CHARACTER WHO ACTS FROM A PLACE OF NEED AND HURT. And idk it's just so fucking clunky I can't imagine the manipulation taking this type of shape. There's just, to me LOL, a huge difference between the mental nudge of "You are lonely and you need guidance please come with me" and "Lestat was a horrific domestic abuser." And like. idk. Just within the package of the whole rest of the season, this team has the subtlety of dropping a fucking piano so I just have no trust in them to write him with any sense of nuance.

AND THE BIGGEST OFFENSE THAT I'M JUST COMPLETELY DISGUSTED BY IS THAT HE'S A DAYWALKER?????????????????????????????????????????????????

I just hate the daywalking shit so fucking much I can't even start. Like the show changes a lot of the lore which is fine whatever it's their show change lore if you feel like it whatever but like. ARMAND'S ENTIRE LIFE IS THEMATICALLY BOOKENDED BY DARKNESS. He grows up in a CAVE. He lives in a CULT BENEATH A CEMETARY. He tries to KILL HIMSELF by GOING INTO THE SUN.

Like. And he's only 500? That's like adolescent for a vampire LOL.

There were a couple times in the season where they had some continuity errors on the show!lore so I got the vibe that the writers didn't really care about all the VAMPIRE STUFF which is kinda disappointing to me bc I'm a nerd lol but it felt like they used Armand in the sun to just give the audience a red herring and it came across as really cheap to me. So I wouldn't put it past this team to kinda be like DAYWALKING SURE LOL and not really take it seriously or think about the larger picture of how that unfolds for the character over more seasons.

IT'S WHATEVER, I JUST. I know it wouldn't make good television but I like VC because it's like existential dread and consuming darkness, I want it to hurt me, I want it to feel bleak, I want Armand's entire arc to be about how much he struggles with the idea that there's no God. It just feels like if you can make it a few centuries and be able to withstand the sun, what's the fucking point? What sacrifice did you make for being immortal? Especially for a character like Armand who so fully believes himself to be damned and would never want to make another vampire, would never subject even an enemy to it.

Especially bc like in the show the vampires can like ? Smoke? And have sex? And they can eat food (even though it tastes like paste but they can eat food). IF YOU CAN SMOKE AND FUCK AND GO IN THE SUN YOU'RE JUST A GUY. Where's the fucking DAMNATION OF IT ALL? Also what's the fucking point of Those Who Must Be Kept if you can go in the sun lol. I just . Ugh what a clusterfuck.

The show turns vampirism into more of a power fantasy than the way the books treat it as damnation or a symbol of being othered so it doesn't really mesh with like, my idea of VC and what I want out of it.

So Armand being a daywalker = Instant Nope From Me. I'm not interested in whatever they're trying to sell me lol.

A few other things that are NOT confirmed but generally just giving me the ick that I worry about:

I really, really, deeply, truly, hated how they wrote Claudia's character and how they wrote about rape, and that gives me a really bad feeling about how they'd potentially tackle Armand's canon background. The two options are: They don't, and he's a completely different character with a different background, with completely different context for his personality/motivations/etc (in which case who the fuck cares he's just some guy who shares a name with the book I like, and not really Armand), or: They GO THERE and it's just extremely heavy handed and insensitive and not fun to watch. I think show!Claudia maybe has more in common with Armand than book!Claudia because they aged her up to be a teenager so it's just, yikes. THEN AGAIN ARMAND IS NO LONGER A TEENAGER ON THE SHOW?

And to that point like. I don't need a bunch of fucking conservatives getting in my face about how I want to see a teenager sexualized because that's not the point; logistically for TV it makes sense that he's older, but again, it changes his backstory so much. imho, Armand being turned as a teenager and looking like a teenager is a huge element of his character! It's important! It just is! And I'm sorry that the show decided that the vampires could have sex, because they invented this problem for themselves! If they kept the canon lore you wouldn't have to see them have sex anyway LOL.

I also was not a fan of the truncated timeline of the show; season 1 takes place in like 30 years I think? And covers from the beginning of the story until Lestat's murder. And I believe Louis will meet Armand in the 1940s; they have the original interview in the 70s and they're together then, and they're together in the present in 2022. Idk I'm just not impressed; humans can get divorced after 30 years too, what's the point of having immortal characters if you're not gonna stretch out the timeline? And so much happens for Armand and Louis in canon and I have no idea what's happened or not happened on the show yet, no one's really sure which events have happened yet in the present day segments of the show. So like idk there's just a lot of Armand/Louis stuff to be smushing into 70 years lol and I'm bummed that they're rushing through the timeline so much.

So I just. Sigh. There's a lot of themes in VC that I really adore that the show doesn't care about, like being VERY OLD and NEVER SEEING THE SUN AGAIN but. I'm in the minority on this one because people love the show LOL. I'm happy for everyone who likes it, but it's not for me.

And like. Just! I knew going in that it would be the Loustat Show, I think everyone knew that, I didn't have huge expectations for Armand/Daniel content but it's such a small part of the books that like it would've been nice to get a couple scenes or some gifs out of it or whatever. It just sucks that like they SET UP the series in a way that the Devil's Minion won't happen on screen. And it sucks that like, depending how long the show runs for or how long AMC retains the rights, this might be the only chance in my lifetime that I had to see Devil's Minion on screen and it's not going to happen.

It's just a bummer man!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

sorry to anyone who likes the show lol I just found it to be like mega disappointing and I don't think I'm going to watch S2, I'm too upset about Armand & Daniel LOL.

#vampire pajama party on amc #the rolin jonestown massacre #<- these are my AMC salt tags if you need to mute or peruse for other disgruntled takes LOL #sorry guys!#adding this tag later re antonio!armand bc i didnt think of it at the time #but i saw the 94 movie directly after reading the book but before reading the rest of the series #so i didnt really notice that he was very different bc i didnt have 17 year old auburn hair botticelli angel in my mind yet #so i always had a neutral/positive feeling about antonion bc my first impression didnt make it a big deal

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