#casmir

[flowercitti]

Astarion and my Tav Casmir ⭐️🩸

[artofallure]

Monika Pietrasinska for Casmir

[lilmisskiwi-art]

Unicorn tiefling Casmir & character design, Jem, I've been fiddling with for Treasure's backstory.

[lolliputian]

Time and Again Character Reference: Hellriders

Includes Guerus, Arkis, Casmir, and Intari.

Lieutenant Guerus, paladin (he/him)

Private Intari, cleric (she/her)

Private Casmir, cleric (he/him)

Private Arkis, paladin (he/they)

[dragonfelling]

Snippet Sunday #14

Its still Sunday where I am so it still counts!

Just a short bit of a sweet moment I was rotating around in my brain. Innis and his young children

(Lily is 7, Keban is 2 and Casmir is 1)

🐷

-

Everything felt alright in these quiet moments.

There was no hurt. No need to numb the pain or forget the distant and recent past.

In this short time the only thing that mattered was the now.

All that mattered was Lilybelle. Innis’ little girl.

The girl he came home from the war to, much to his surprise. He did not think he’d have Anya when he returned, let alone the child that she said she would not keep. She sat on the end of the couch between Innis’ legs and parallel to him. Shelounged back just like how he laid, her own book propped up just like him.

All that mattered was Keban. Innis’ baby boy. He cuddled into his side and peeked up at the book his father was reading to him- God… he looked so much like Innis. The baby boy who Innis did not mean to bring into this world either. He was born while Innis was off in another war; Fighting to find forgiveness from his Goddess and from his Mothers. Innis did not know Anya was pregnant when he left. He did not mean to abandon Anya again. By the time letters arrived and Innis traveled home, the boy was born at the infirmary. He was small. Early. Sick… There was some fear that the boy wouldn't make it, but soon he fattened up and grew strong.

He’d return back to Ishida soon after coming home so his son could be blessed and named properly, just as his daughter was under Taifun’s watch. This time he would watch and be there to comfort his boy after the shock of a precise knife and cold sea water.

All that mattered was the infant on Innis’ chest. Casmir… This boy was not his. This child was a mistake above mistakes. Vayda, Innis’ step-daughter, gave birth to this little man. He was another Derre and would surely soon be mistaken as Keban’s brother. This boy was the work of Innis’ older brother. Vayda was a strange girl with many problems that Innis tried to extend a hand to… but she would only snarl and bite.

Like the other mistakes in his life, Innis held his arms open for the boy. Even if this wasn’t his mistake, it did not matter. Casmir would be loved and cherished.

He rested the boy on him, rocking him to sleep with the rise and fall of his chest.

Anya stepped down the hall and peered into the living room, leaning against the wall and smiling at the sight. Innis was a good father and everything felt alright.

At least it would be alright for the time.

[ribcage-rodents]

The Root Munchers

It's a shame that Professor Westle was murdered. His lectures could be rambling but he was far more interesting than the substitute, Professor Dumpwart. Despite his dry monotone speech, Mink was sure to take detailed notes, that is until a spear-marked black moth landed gracefully on the edge of her notebook.

Surely it was an unnecessarily complex spell to achieve that specific moth but Niamh despite refusing to do schoolwork could be dedicated and sharp when it came to her reputation and style.

Mink shifted the tip of her yew wand from black ink and poked the moth. It unfurled into a scrap of parchment. Let’s get out of here, this class is worse than Cybele’s! It read in Niamh’s scratchy handwriting. Personally, Mink liked Professor Cybele, sure she was cross but she was passionate and cared deeply for her students. It seemed specifically Mink, it was like she could tell the young girl was struggling and she wanted to help her.

Mink rolled her eyes and shook her head at the girl sitting a chair away from her. Niamh glared, kicking back in her chair. But as Professor Dumpwart continued to drone on about the history of human-faerie relations Mink couldn’t help but give in. She could probably take more concise notes if she just read a book anyway.

Standing up on shaky legs Mink made her way to Dumpwart. “Excuse me Professor but I’m not feeling very well. I think I need to go lie down,” She then presented the note Nurse Goodwarith had given her when she was discharged from the sick wing. He scrutinized the note before sending her off with a wave of his hand. As expected Niamh was at her side the moment she stood up. “I should probably help Mink get to the dorms,” She said, smiling wildly. Only a few months into the school year Niamh already had the reputation of a troublemaker with the teachers. However, Dumpwart was new enough to trust her.

Seeing their friends head towards the door the other two members of the rat pack, Alfred and Casmir, stood up as well. “I don’t believe Miss Etoile needs an entire entourage to accompany her,” Professor Dumpwart said. Taking a quick look at the mostly sleeping students Alfred made his way to his desk anyway, Mink preferred privacy especially considering her mystery illness. “Well you see Professor Mink has a tendency to faint, so we need two people to carry her just in case,” Professor Dumpwart allowed it with another dismissive wave of his hand. “Yeah, come on Cas!” Niamh called.

The only substantial reason Mink could come up with as to why Nimh hated Alfred so much was because he was a changeling. Normally Mink herself would never associate with one as she was raised in the Unseelie court, a group of faeries that believe humans should be exterminated and therefore so should their children, the changelings. But there was something special about Alfred, something that was slowly changing Mink’s beliefs about humans and their spawn.

Mink let Niamh link arms with her as they walked, after all, Mink was feeling rather dizzy today. Casmir slipped his own arm through hers. A cold squirmy feeling filled her gut. She wasn’t sure why, Mink had known Casmir as long as Niamh. Although maybe it was because Casmir had only just become her friend this year while Niamh has been at her side their entire lives. But Mink didn’t mind when Alfred helped her walk, and they only met this year. There was something special about Alfred though, something that drew Mink in and broke down her barriers. When she had first met him he was a pathetically timid and shy dumb creature but underneath he had a wicked sense of humor and a hunger for mischief. It felt as if she knew him her whole life as if he was her twin brother.

“Where are you going!?” Casmir asked when the two girls didn’t head towards the yew tree dorms. “You didn’t think we were actually going to Mink’s room right?” Niamh asked, raising a black eyebrow. “Well, what else would we do?” Casmir wasn’t as devoted to rule-breaking as the rest of the rat pack and Mink often found herself wondering why he was friends with them at all. “We should wait for Alfred,” Mink said, avoiding the disgruntled look she’d find on Niamh’s face.

As if on cue the last of their pack came racing through the halls, his feet splashing on the surface of the magical waterways. “Thanks for waiting!” Alfred called looking directly at where Mink’s eyes were hidden by her thick purple bangs for he knew she was the only reason they waited.

As a group, they headed towards the Hag statue, their favorite place to go once discovered at the beginning of the year. One by one they crept into the passage way hidden behind the statue. “We should head to the sweets shop down in that human village and steal all their candy!” Niahm exclaimed grabbing onto Mink’s arm and shaking it in her excitment. Mink smiled warmly at her oldest friend as a chorus of agreements sounded.

But only a few moments into their journey Casmir cried out, all three friends looked back at him. “What’s wrong!?” Mink asked urgently. “My foot’s stuck! Some kind of loose board,” He responded shining the bright tip of his wand to illuminate the hole holding his boot. “OK, Alfred you pull from behind, I’ll get ot the root of the problem,” Mink directed. As Alfred wrapped his arms securely around Casmir, Mink began to smash her foot against the wood quikly breaking it down. Casmir fell back against Alfred in a heap.

Niahm peered into the opening pushing long black hair from her face. “What do you think is down there?” She asked as Mink joined her. “Hmm.. only one way to find out,” She smiled deviously at the other girl.

Lowering herself into the gap Mink let herself drop to the hard dirt packed floor below. A few moments the rest of the rat packed joined her. “Careful there are roots everywhere,” Mink said skating around a large thick tuber snaking through the ground. “Where are we?” Casmir said admiring the wooden ceiling in the dim light. Mink examined the passage carefully, calling a flame to the tip of her wand she lit a torch mounted to dirt walls. Her friends applauded with grateful cheers and yet an icy feeling clung to her bones at the memory of that awful Persephone-girl who burnt her hair and blinded her left eye. “See this is why we need you, the smart one of the group!” Niahm called throwing an arm around the taller girl’s shoulders.

They wandered deeper into the cavern until the dirt turned to dusty stones broken up by wild roots. “Hey guys check it out!” Niahm called using her wand to create a crude drawing. “Who’s that supposed to be?” Alfred said making a face. “It’s Dumpwart obviously,” She seethed. Mink smiled. “I’m not sure if we should vandalise this stuff,” Casmir’s eyes darted around the room as if Professor Cybele was bound to emerge from the shadows at any moment.

Taking out his wand Alfred drew a picture of Niahm with immature stink lines and a degrading speech bubble. “Haha that so funny,” Niahm bit out. “I thought so,” Alfred said back jovially. She raised her wand to his throat a spell brewing at the tip when Mink stepped in. “No fighting,” She said simply walking farther down the cavern. “You aren’t our keeper! You can’t decide what I do, you aren’t even the leader of this group!” Niahm called after her.

The leader of their group, Mink sighed, at some point early in the year it was something Niahm had become obsessed with. She was convinced that she was leader and that everyone was a threat to her rein. Personally Mink didn’t care, they were friends there shouldn’t be a power struggle, at least that’s what Alfred had said. But Mink and Niahm weren’t raised that way, in fact her parents would be furious Mink wasn’t fighting for the title of leader. Although now wasn’t the time to argue something was shuffling in the far off darkness.

“Shh..” Mink whispered, Niahm fell silent. She skated slowly into the darkness lighting the nearest torch. And there was that sound again, something muffled and soft. Peering into the darkness she could almost she the silhoueett of something. Lighting another torch light was suddenly cast on the creature. It’s fuzzy nose wobbled as it took in it’s visitors. “Oh,” Mink murmured. It seemed to almost be a giant mouse which made sense considered their school was a collection of giant trees.

The animal stood suddenly onto it’s back legs stretching up to brush the ceiling with it’s head. It bared it’s razor sharp teeth as it’s mouth stretched unnaturally wide and a gross shrill noise emitted from it’s throat. The rat pack stood in silence staring at the massive creature. Using it’s snake like tongue it collected the drool falling from it’s mouth maliciously, excited for dinner.

“Run,” Mink said horsely. When no one moved she repeated it louder. Turing on the wheels of her boots she raced down the passageway grabbing both Niahm and Alfred’s arms as she went. The beast screamed again chasing after them. More mice bean to crawl along the walls and ceiling. “There’s the exit!” Casmir shouted breathless. “Hurry boost her up!” Mink shouted pulling Niahm to her side. Casmir climbed onto Alfred’s shoulders holding Mink who pushed Niahm to safety. One of the creatures snapped at Alfred causing them all to fall. “Get up!” Mink yelled motioning to the hold in the ceiling. She brandished her wand casting flame once more desperate to hurt these monsters like Persephone hurt her. But the mouse snapped her wand like the twing it was with it’s powerful jaws.

Upclose there was something odd about the mice, their breath was cold against her face. “Mink!” Alfred called reaching from the opening to grab her hands. She reached for him but couldn’t shake this odd feeling, she stared into the beast’s black watery eyes and felt deep within her bones a connection, like she knew this monster like she new her own blood.

And then the rat pack up pulling her up and running back to the hag. Mink tried to leave the odd bond behind. “That was awful!” Casmir cried once they were safely back in the school’s waterways. “Are you kidding that was amazing!” Niahm said her grey eyes shining with mirth. “Maybe because you didn’t almost die,” Alfred shot back although he was smiling. “And what may I ask was this amazing adventure?” A cross voice asked, the rat pack shared a terrified glance, Professor Cybele!

She came from around the corner her stern gaze piercing them. “I can explain Professor,” Mink came forward. “I wasn’t feeling very well and my friends offered tto take me back to my room. But then they were wandering around the school and I’m too weak to stop them,” Professor Cybele raised an eyebrow. “Very well, all of you detention tonight in the history room with Professor Dumpwart, except Miss Etolie you get some rest.”

With a collection of groans and curses the friends headed back to the yew dorms. “Why’d you throw us under the bus?!” Alfred asked at the same time Casmir cursed Mink for never getting in trouble. Truthfully Mink felt that Cybele knew she was as guilty as the rest of the rat pack but she wasn’t about to prove herself right. Instead she picked up the latest novel she was devouring and bid farewell to her unlucky friends. “Have fun in detention!” She called sweetly. “Oh bunk that man,” Niahm called, “I’m skipping!” She followed Mink up to her dorm. “I’m just going to be reading,” Mink responded, “It’s better than Dumpwart,” She said, Mink giggled. “Plus it’s nice to hang out with you alone,” Niahm said suddenly taking a serious tone, an unusual occurrence for the girl. “I’m skipping too!” Alfred announced bursting into Mink’s private dorm. Niahm groaned. “Well if you guys are skipping then I’m skipping,” Casmir said. Sighing Mink put her book down, there was no use trying toread around these fools, although she couldn’t help but smile. She’d never admit it but she cared for them deeply.

[newtouch6666]

been hitting my ocs mentally with the furry beam lately, so finally wanted to put that to paper... i'll be doing doggirl kit eventually >: )

[caraclothing]

Haine Fashion Dama Online

Şalurile sunt principala ținută etnică suplimentară clasică pentru doamne și se potrivesc cu aproape orice, cum ar fi rocchii, blugi și topuri. Acest lucru doar îmbunătățește aspectul unei persoane. Există o varietate de șaluri dintre care o persoană poate alege.

[modaonlinemagazalari]

https://www.modaonlinemagazalari.com/moda-markas/casmir/

Casmir

[negicantdraw]

The Pale Elf's love

[flowercitti]

Helloooo might I can request of Astarion notice that his (male? Or Casmir!) lover has dissociated during sex? Preferably no bad topics (S/A ) or the like, mainly just, sex just wasn't the best choice for tav? At the time? If that makes sense?

Ahh thank you sm for the ask! I decided to implement Casmir and something relevant to him, but I hope this is still close to what you wanted! 🤍🌸

Fluff/angst/some beginnng smut/Named Male Tiefling Tav

🌸

Astarion’s tongue works over Casmir’s cock with practiced experience, his head bobbing with a steady rhythm, his fingers clenched into the tiefling’s muscled thighs. He’s on his knees between the man’s legs, naked and slowly growing warmer from Casmir’s infernal heat, a line of drool curled over his chin.

Casmir makes the loveliest sounds above him, his voice gone deep and rough with pleasure, a pleased hum caught in Astarion’s throat. A clawed hand tightens just slightly in his curls, holding his head close, shakily petting over the silvery strands.

“Feels so good.” Casmir murmurs, the praise whispered in breathy awe, fingers pressing against the back of Astarion’s head.

Astarion moans and redoubles his efforts, taking Casmir’s cock nearly to the base and being rewarded with a guttural groan, Casmir’s hips twitching up into Astarion’s mouth. Astarion’s tongue follows a vein along his length, unconcerned with Casmir’s gentle urges for him to ease off. His ruby eyes flicker open to meet molten gold, Casmir’s mouth dropping open around a hissed curse. 

“Astarion, I’m gonna—” His breath stutters and Astarion hums around him contentedly, ruby eyes fallen closed from bliss, thumbing over Casmir’s perineum and up. He delights in the jump of the man’s thighs, Casmir’s hand curling on instinct into Astarion’s hair, a perfect sting sparking over the vampire's scalp from the prick of his claws.

And then Casmir’s coming down his throat, hot and warm, Astarion’s nose nearly pressed to the base of his cock. Astarion moans around him, shifting forward on his knees, eyes squeezed shut. If he needed to breathe perhaps he would have passed out—but as it is he just gratefully swallows, throat working around Casmir’s length as he shakes beneath him. 

Casmir’s hand jerks away from his hair, a strangled gasp caught in his throat.

Astarion pulls off him with a soft gasp, hands running along the curve of Casmir’s thighs. He rests his head against the tiefling for a moment, blinking away the blur in his eyes, reflexive tears catching in his lashes. He shifts on his knees, mouthing at Casmir’s hip, fingers tracing circles over the man’s leg.

Casmir is strangely quiet above him. Astarion hums quietly, lips pressing a kiss against his abdomen.

“Was that good, darling?” He teases though there’s a genuine question in his tone, smiling into the man’s skin, feeling both warm and content. 

There’s a sticky heat on the back of Astarion’s neck, curving down his nape, and as he breathes he realizes that Casmir still hasn’t said a word. He looks up curiously to find Casmir’s hand suspended in air, his claws stained red.

Those pretty golden eyes have gone glassy, staring at nothing. So impossibly far away, his body entirely tense in front of him. His breaths stutter at a strange rhythm, his face nearly slack.

Astarion flinches up, trying to catch Casmir’s gaze, “Darling?” 

Casmir’s head turns just slightly, blinking slowly down at Astarion’s face. His breaths rattle in his throat, brows furrowed as his mouth falls open on a soft gasp. Astarion tentatively touches his shoulder, fingers brushing carefully over warm skin, thumbing over the point of his clavicle.

“What’s wrong, dear?” He asks softly, rising up on his knees so they’re just a little closer. “Where have you gone?” 

Casmir doesn’t even acknowledge him for several moments—concern roils low and rotten in Astarion’s gut, rubbing gently over Casmir’s shoulder. “Cas?”

Casmir breathes out quietly, finally meeting Astarion’s gaze with unfocused eyes, “I…” He reaches for the back of Astarion’s head, fingers brushing over his nape before he jerks back again, a choked noise in his throat.

Casmir’s fingertips are stained with a drop of red. Astarion is bleeding.

Astarion moves to touch the wound himself—barely a scratch, really. Especially for him. It’ll likely bleed a droplet or two before it stops and heals over completely, little more than a dull sting at the back of Astarion’s head.

Casmir looks at him as if he had cracked his head open.

“I hurt you.” He whispers, a quiet croak that sounds—devastated, crackling around the edges like shards of glass. 

Astarion is quick to soothe him, his hands gently holding Casmir’s jaw between his cool palms, “This is hardly anything, darling. You didn’t hurt me.”

“You’re bleeding.” His voice is low and breathy, said with that same heart-broken, far away quality.

“It will stop.” He brushes Casmir’s ebony hair back from his face, his thumb resting over his bottom lip. Astarion watches as he swallows thickly, his hand still hovering in the air between them, nearly trembling. He suddenly looks very tired and very miserable, his dark brows heavy over his honey-gold eyes.

Astarion carefully takes his wrist in hand, smoothing away the blood on his fingers with the damp rag left on their bedside. He traces the lines of his knuckles once he’s done, moving in small circles and hopes it offers him comfort.

“It was a simple accident, darling, really. I could barely even feel it.”

Casmir’s eyes still look far away, glassy and wide, his mouth parted to show white fangs. “I’m sorry.”

Astarion’s lips purse, lips brushing over the back of Casmir’s hand, “You needn’t apologize for this.” He says softly, though he doubts that Casmir lets the words sink in at all.

Astarion has most certainly discarded all plans for this night to continue as it had started, but he could certainly try to at least salvage it.

Astarion rises, settling onto the bed and gently urging Casmir to follow him to lay at the headboard. Casmir goes like a puppet with disjointed limbs, stiff and quiet and nothing like the pleasant and warm man Astarion has come to know. He presses his lips together, cupping the back of Casmir’s nape, keeping him close. 

Astarion is not the one who comforts, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try. 

He pushes the damp cloth into Casmir’s hand before urging it to the back of his own head, feeling it brush over his curls. The tiefling freezes for a moment before he wipes the blood away in one smooth stroke, a small rusty stain left behind. He eyes it carefully, teeth sinking into his bottom lip harshly.

“I’ve taken more blood from you than that, my dear.” Astarion informs him, taking Casmir’s chin between his thumb and a finger. “You did not hurt me.” He repeats firmly, soft and quiet and he watches something return to those honey-glazed eyes of his.

Casmir breathes out slowly, his eyes closing with a furrowed brow. When they open again they find Astarion immediately, bright and fond and still wet. Casmir always looks at him in a way that is entirely unique in its softness and care. It makes him want to twist and fidget, a tight pit in his stomach, pleasant though unfamiliar.

“Still. I’ll be more careful.” Gently, he cups the side of Astarion’s neck, his thumb rubbing over his jaw. “I would never intend to harm you.”

Astarion huffs but recognizes he will likely get no further with him than that. He’s surprisingly stubborn, especially when it comes to this, whether Astarion thinks he’s overthinking it or not.

“And thank you.” Casmir murmurs, a soft smile on his face, head tucked into a plush pillow. “I didn’t mean to ruin our night. I don’t…you didn’t—”

Astarion scoffs, a small snort in his throat, “You didn’t ruin anything, don’t be silly.” Astarion’s thumb traces the point of Casmir’s ear, tweaking it gently. “You’ve done nothing wrong, but if you insist on believing that you have; I forgive you.”

Casmir laughs softly, a delicate rasp of breath as his head turns, dark lips finding Astarion’s palm in a warm kiss. “Thank you.” He says again, sighing quietly as Astarion pets through his hair.

Astarion hums as Casmir tugs the blankets over them, his face pressing into the vampire’s chest with the gentle pull of his hand. “Don’t worry your pretty little horned head about a thing. Now rest, lest those turning gears cause smoke to start billowing from your pointy ears.”

Casmir huffs into Astarion’s collarbone, warm lips brushing against his skin. “You don’t even sleep.” He murmurs, but he soon drifts off in his arms anyway, breaths deep and slow.

Astarion rests his chin on the top of his head and allows his eyes to slip closed.

🌸

Feel free to send me more requests! or check out my ao3 🤍🌸🤍

[highfalutin-son-of-a-gun]

okay but can we talk about how when you play illinoise songs on spotify you can watch the dance as you listen to it?

i was listening to the soundtrack and starting bawling through most of it 😭

[lilmisskiwi-art]

Revenge on @sketchbunnyplus <3

[grimvengeance]

REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!

[cowgremlin11]

Oc time

His name is Borys, he's a fruit, hes fuckin dead, and he was fooling around with Viktor in the trenches before getting shot and dying in Viktor's arms.

If you look at his name and the meanings it means "Warrior of Peace" (his last name just means hes from Bacze)

[newtouch6666]

pages from a comic of my own i was working on the past year or so- the second page was made before the first, so that's why they look so different! still figuring out how to approach things.

unsure if "the hand of god" will ever come to fruition, but it was a tragic romance between the two pictured individuals, cas and kit- two people unhappily preforming the roles god has set out for them, quite literally.