#demons/shadows must be fun at parties

[katsona-the-katsequel]

It really says something about your average demon/shadow when the only ones properly named are Trish and Teddie

[pastshadows]

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 18: Who Are You?

Summary: After a year of blissful cohabitation, Astarion disappears without a trace, leaving behind a heartfelt letter explaining his departure. Determined to find him, you traverse Faerûn in search of your lost love, only to realize that some absences are meant to be permanent.

Returning to Waterdeep, you find solace in the company of Gale as you come to terms with Astarion's absence. But just as you begin to heal, Astarion reappears, begging for a second chance at love.

The question looms: can you forgive his abandonment and trust him once more? As you grapple with your emotions and trauma, a sinister force lurks in the shadows, targeting you for unknown reasons.

With danger closing in, you must navigate the treacherous waters of trust, love, and betrayal to uncover the truth behind the mysterious entity's motives. Will you be able to reunite with Astarion while facing the demons of your past? Can you unravel the secrets that threaten your very existence?

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 6.4K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.]

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Sexual Assault [Implied/attempted sexual assault: Chapter 7]. Past Trauma. Murder. Death. Longing. Sexual themes. Smut. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions. Panic attacks. Anxiety.

The ruins stippling the mountainous valley look ominous at night when the chalky light of the moon stumbles upon the toothed edges of broken walls and sharp-angled vestiges of what used to be a grand temple. The wilderness has reclaimed the land stolen, and the spindly trees forge stringy shadows that squirm when the wind tangles through the cliffs.   

Your legs dangle over the brink of a dizzyingly sheer precipice, and you’re laid flat on your back to stare at the celestial blanket, embroidered with flecks of stars. The party will leave this behind come dawn and enter the Shadowlands. You’ve never ventured there; not many have after the curse eclipsed the land in Shar’s dark silhouette, but from what you know, it’s entirely possible you will not make it out alive. If that is to be the case, you want to remember that there is light in the universe.   

The serene silence is fractured by the snapping of twigs and the rustling of dried leaves and underbrush. You sit up with orbs of fire already hovering above you in an arcing semicircle.   

Astarion stands with his hands up, but a haughty smirk quirks up the corners of his lips. “And here I thought we were friends,” he drawls.   

“You really should learn to announce yourself when you’re lurking around in the dark.” The balls of fire descend into your hand and fade out. “It’s not like you to be so careless with your feet.”   

“Careless? Hardly.” Astarion crosses his arms, jutting his hip out. “I was loud on purpose. I feared that if I popped out of the shadows, you might throw yourself off the damn cliff.”   

“You know what would have worked? Saying, “Kamena, it’s Astarion. Please don’t burn me to death.” You throttle the laughter that threatens to snap out.   

“Oh, please. You’re no fun. I think I was being very polite giving you any warning at all.” Astarion saunters over, lying beside you. “What are you doing out here anyway? Should you not be trying to get some rest?”   

“Probably, but I wanted to see the stars before we entered the land of monotonous darkness.”   

Astarion nods. “I’ll miss the sun.”   

“You’ll see it again,” you reassure, even though you know it’s entirely possible he won’t. The thought makes your lower lip quiver, but you’re swept up in a sudden surge of pure defiance. You will survive the Shadowlands, if only to get him back into the sun. “I’ll make sure of it.”   

“You’re sweet,” he quirks a brow at you, rolls onto his side, and props himself up on his forearm. “But I am no fool. I know well enough that the odds do not favour us. You don’t have to coddle me.”   

“Coddle? Gods forbid anyone tries to reassure you!” You roll your eyes at him. “The odds might not be particularly charitable, but neither were the odds of making it this far in the first place. We seem to make impossibilities into possibilities daily right now.”   

“True. The odds of a vampire spawn being infected with a tadpole that just so happens to break his master’s compulsion and most of the other rather pesky downsides of vampirism are infinitely minuscule, yet here I am.”   

“Wow, that sounded very close to optimism,” you quip. “I’m impressed!”   

He scoffs, deigning not to answer, and flops down onto his back.   

You bashfully whisper. “Can I ask you some questions about vampires?”   

“I suppose,” Astarion says hesitantly, sitting up to look at you with a furrowed brow. “I guess I am the only one here with a wealth of knowledge on the subject. What exactly would you like to know?”   

“Vampire Lords, how do you kill them?”   

He shrugs. “Like most vampires, a stake, beheading, dismembering, incinerating. The trick is not so much how to kill them; it’s actually getting them weak enough for it to even be plausible. They are incredibly powerful and resilient bastards.”   

You sit up, crossing your legs, and peer out into the valley. “But it can be done?”   

“Yes, of course, but I wouldn’t advise it.” Astarion looks at you skeptically, leaning back and away.  

“And what happens to the Vampire Lords spawn if they perish?” 

“They are free to do as they please.” Astarion’s forehead pinches, creating a line between his brows. “Why?”  

“Cazador is in Baldur's Gate, correct?”   

“Yes, but…” Astarion’s eyes bulge, and he starts shaking his head. “Kamena. No. Please tell me you’re not thinking about doing what I think you are?”   

You smile at him angelically. “I would, but it would be a lie, and I don’t relish the idea of bullshitting you.”  

“Cazador is not to be trifled with.” Astarion blurts out hastily. “He will kill you. I was not exaggerating when I said he could walk into our camp and kill us all before we even woke.”   

“Oh, Astarion, don’t worry. I don’t plan on trifling with him. I plan on killing him outright.”   

“You’re actually serious?” Astarion exclaims.  

“Dead serious.”   

“I…” Astarion looks around. “Why would you do that for me?”  

Because I’m in love with you. 

It nearly leaps off your tongue like a startled frog off a lily pad, but you manage to snare it before it can be ejected from your lips. You feel the heat rush to your face as if your skin is trying to mimic the scarlet of his dissecting gaze. You glance away, clearing your throat and regaining the poise that was misplaced when your judgment nearly lapsed.   

“You’re my friend, and you deserve to be free. I will do everything in my power to make that possible.”   

Astarion looks down, picking up a rock and idly running his fingers over the surface. “I do not believe the others will share your sentiments.”   

“You leave the others to me. You have not yet witnessed exactly how persuasive I can be.” You smirk with a foxlike guise. “Plus, I think they all rather like you even if you do annoy the shit out of them.”   

Astarion chuckles. “Perhaps with the exception of Gale.”  

You quirk a brow at him, not quite understanding. Gale seems no more annoyed than the rest of the group at Astarion’s antics. “Why do you think Gale has anything against you?”   

Astarion’s eyes snap to you, and a handsome, crooked grin coils one side of his lips upward. “I have become rather close friends with a charming sorceress he fancies, I presume. Intimately close, one might say.”   

You flush red again and flop onto your back with a groan, hoping it might hide the rosy hue of your skin. Unfortunately, your traitorous heart lurches into a rapid pace you know he can hear, and he giggles spritely and genuine. You close your eyes and smile at the lightness and mirth that remind you of softly tinging windchimes. It’s not a sound you are granted too often, but you would do anything to hear it.   

“You’re so easy to fluster. It’s utterly adorable,” he purrs. Astarion lays back down beside you, looking up at the sky.   

The light of dawn is breaching the horizon, and the stars are starting to appear faint. The coolness of Astarion’s hand butting up against yours surprises you, and you tentatively lock your pinkie with his. Gradually, your hands seem to move of their own volition until his hand covers yours. You splay your fingers, his curl, and fit themselves perfectly in the spaces between, like your hand was made to hold his.   

“I envy you,” he murmurs. “Even when a literal God appears and threatens your very existence, you are fearless.”   

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” you say, shaking your head. You crane your neck to the side to look at him. “I’m terrified.”   

He seems surprised by your candidness. His jaw clenches, making the muscles in his neck strain and pop out. You want to reach out and soothe that tension away, but instead you twist your hand into the earth to keep it from roaming where it shouldn’t.   

“How do you do it, then?” He finally asks, looking deeply into your eyes. There’s an openness there that makes you feel as though you’re truly seeing him, perhaps for the first time. “How do you keep going?”   

“I place one foot in front of the other, and then I do it again, and again, and again.”   

“You make it sound easy,” he breathes with a frown that’s weighted in the heaviness of sorrow.   

You know, at some point, he’s let fear paralyze him. Does he have any memories of true happiness? Are his memories all pain, torture and slavery at the hands of a barbaric master?  

“It’s not easy.” You conclude tightly. “Every step is hard, and sometimes you have to take a break between steps, but eventually, you take another step.”  

“Hmm.” A silence stretches out, and you just gaze at each other as the first rays of sun begin to plod over the land. “Take another step… May I kiss you?”   

The young beams of sunlight appear to infuse his eyes, lighting up the desperation in them. His stare is intense, like that of a coiled viper that’s ready to strike. You sit up, letting your hand drift toward him like it’s been yearning to do, but you hover just shy of his cheek. If he wants to be touched, he will close the gap. He glances at your hand, smiles sweetly, and pushes into your touch, closing his eyes when your thumb sweeps across his cheek.

"Of course.” 

Before the consent can even finish sighing from your lips, Astarion’s hand winds into your hair, and his lips catch yours with a greedy fervour that makes you groan into his mouth. He takes full advantage, his tongue expertly exploring, tentatively stroking yours in a slow erotic dance that’s all sensation and passion.  

His arm wraps around your waist, tugging you closer until you’re pressed tightly against the muscles of his chest. Your fingers twist into his shirt. You’ve never been kissed quite like this. It feels like he steals the air straight from your lungs and replaces it with him until you’re drowning in him.   

You can’t say you mind that much.

Astarion breaks the kiss only when your heart is racing like you’ve been running up a mountain. He smirks, placing one more chaste kiss on your still parted, swollen lips as you try to iron out this disequilibrium making your head swoon.

“Do you kiss all your friends like that?” Astarion quips playfully.  

“No!” You squeak too high and a little too hastily.   

“Good,” he surmises plainly with a curt nod.  

“Good?”   

“Good. I think I would rather like to keep it that way.” Astarion stands, offering you his hands. “Come on, darling. We best get back to camp before Gale’s brain starts to conjure up images of the sinful delights we’ve snuck away to partake in. I fear he might explode and kill us all out of sheer jealousy.”   

You slip your hands into Astarion’s, and he helps you to your feet. Your eyes drop to your embraced hands with a million questions revolving in your head, but you don’t dare ask any of them as you let him lead you back to camp hand-in-hand.

The courtyard door clicks closed behind you, and you lean on it with a resigned sigh. The woman you used to be, who now only lives in memories, would never have entertained such a proposition, but she had nothing to lose. Now, you have your soulmate, friends, and yourself, who all stand to lose their lives if you decide to pursue this fight to its inconclusive end. 

Does a ring with the power Aldous described even exist, or is this just a very clever rouse to pique your interest? It would be smart to prey on your greatest desires, and it’s something a Vampire Lord would certainly take advantage of. 

But ... a little voice whispers, But what if it’s true? What if the answer to Astarion’s sun intolerance is sitting somewhere in Waterdeep, and all you have to do is make a deal and walk away? 

Astarion likely won’t agree, let alone let them sketch his scars, but you’ve been trailing your fingers over those scars every night. You might not be much of an artist, but you could replicate them closely enough. 

Your back slides down the door until you’re sitting on the floor, shivering, with your fingers twisted in your drenched hair. You can’t seriously be considering this, can you? Who are you anymore? Are you too far gone? You used to be so fucking unshakable, and now you’re shaking on the floor, stuck between what you are and what you think you should be. 

It feels like the vultures are circling, the walls are closing, and the devil is knocking. 

But you will always do whatever it takes to keep those you love safe, and they will never be safe if you allow another Vampire Lord to ascend. There is always the risk that, as soon as your usefulness has been depleted, they will kill you, Astarion, and your friends. 

It’s not a risk you’re willing to take. 

“Sorceress?” Tara’s eyes gleam in the low light as she trots in from the corridor with her tail held high. “You are soaked! Did no one ever teach you how to dry yourself?” 

You let your chin rest on your knees and hold your hand out. At the invitation, Tara comes trotting over, and you scratch behind her ears while she gives you a rumbly purr and butts her head against your palm. 

“You are burdened this night.” Tara states, sitting and wrapping her tail around herself. Her words make tears prick your eyes, but you force them away. You are so tired of crying. “I see how the others look to you for answers you do not have. You carry much responsibility on your shoulders. Yet, I do not believe this is what bothers you this night.” 

“Astute, as always, Tara.” You push yourself up to your feet, grab the milk, and pour some into a bowl, letting your palms heat until the milk steams slightly. 

Tara’s tail sticks straight up in the air and vibrates happily as you put the bowl down for her and return to your spot on the floor. She waits for you to speak while she laps up her milk.  

“I feel like I’m constantly falling apart. I’ve changed. When I look in the mirror, I don’t always recognize the woman who is reflected back.” 

“And this is a bad thing?” Tara asks, taking a break from lapping at her milk and licking her lips and chin. “Change is inevitable, sorceress. Seasons change. Time changes. People change. Even the stars change given enough time.” 

“It’s not the change itself; it’s what I’ve changed into,” you sigh, letting your head rest on your knees. “The me in my memories was dependable, sure, and bold. Even when I was afraid, I was at least steadfast and reliable. I cannot say that’s the case any longer. Now, sometimes, I fear the dark or storms — things I would not have batted an eyelash at before.” 

There’s no stopping the tears now. Despite your restraint, the rivulets inch from the corners of your eyes. “I’m just so fucking sick of crying, of being afraid, of running, of being this version of me.” 

“Yes, you have struggled with fear since you came to stay.” Tara looks at her feet, almost as if she’s contemplating what you need to hear, but more likely, she’s trying to decide if she needs to clean her face. “Fear is a serpent whispering uncertainties and breeding unease about moving forward into the unknown. It convinces you to remain rooted in your misery simply because misery is known and safe. Sometimes it helps us avoid legitimate danger, but other times it keeps us stuck in a self-perpetuating cycle.” 

“I don’t know how to break the cycle.” You wipe the wetness from your cheeks and eyes. “But I know I will never be who I was again.” 

“Nor should you be.” Tara scoffs. Her lips curl, pulling back her snout, clearly dissatisfied. “Stop glancing backward and look forward toward growth and change. Let go of this foolish notion that you should be who you were.” 

“I liked myself better that way.” Your voice is harsh and bitter, but Tara does not so much as flick an ear or twitch her skin. 

“Stop being so stubborn, Kamena.” Tara scolds you with a hiss, arching her back. “It is okay to be afraid, to be hurt, and to feel broken, but you needn’t wallow in it. You have two options. You can either let your fears chase you and run, or you can chase your fears and make them run from you.” 

“What if I make the wrong choice and get us all killed?” 

“Well, then you’ll be dead, and you won’t have the capacity to dwell on it.” Tara concludes brashly. 

She’s not wrong.   

“I would hug you if I wasn’t worried you would scratch my eyes out.” You hiccup out a laugh. 

“You are positively sodden!” Tara scampers back, far out of reach, and crouches low to the ground, ready to flee. “You would wet my fur! I would have to leave a dead mouse in your bed for such an egregious trespass!” 

“Hmm,” you hum, patting your lips with your index finger. “Worth it, I think.” 

When you sneak down the quiet halls back to your room, you’re surprised to see soft light radiating out under the doorway. Depending on how long he’s been awake, he likely heard the entire conversation with Tara and probably Aldous as well. 

Stupid vampiric hearing.   

You let yourself in and suck in a sharp breath at the incredulous scowl on Astarion’s face. A small fire is popping and crackling in the fireplace, eating away at the timber and suffusing the room with a light pine scent. 

Astarion sits in bed, leaning against the headboard with one knee up and the sheets pooled around his waist. Even though you know you’re likely in for an earful, your eyes still devour the sight of him — chiselled, toned muscles, pristine ivory skin, and those scarlet eyes that are seemingly burning as bright as the fire, bleeding into you. 

“Well?” Astarion asks. 

“Well what?” 

“Come now,” Astarion drawls, but his intonation is bordering on cruel, rougher than any stone. “I heard the little deal that worm offered you. Please tell me you’re not truly thinking about this. I do not have to remind you that Vampire Lords are not trustworthy.” 

You slip out of your wet clothes, grab a towel, and dry your hair. “I’ll admit, it’s tempting.” 

“Have you lost your godsdamned mind?” Astarion balks, eyes narrow, with a scowl so menacing that if you didn’t know him, it might scare you. 

“Probably,” you say solemnly, staring at your feet. “I was going to discuss it with you first.” 

“Oh,” Astarion’s scowl eases, and he looks askance. “I… Why?” 

“Because it’s your life, your siblings, your body, and your scars,” you state, sitting on the bed cross-legged and staring at him. “If what he said is true, and I’m not saying it is, there’s also the matter of that ring. You could walk in the sun without worrying again. I want that for you more than anything, but I won’t make these kinds of decisions without you. We are a team.” 

Astarion racks his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “If it were me a couple years ago, I’d likely have taken the deal and ran, but... I’m not that selfish a man any longer. Even if the ring does exist, it’s not worth all the lives that will be lost should we turn a blind eye.” 

“I suppose not,” you murmur, looking down at your lap. Your damp, wavy hair creates a wavy curtain between you and him, and you’re thankful for the coverage. 

“You would turn a blind eye to it?” Astarion asks, brushing your hair back. “All the lives the Rite would cost, and all the deaths that would come after?” 

“To ensure your safety and gain the ring to let you enjoy the sun again?” You breathe heavily. “Yes, I think I would. I would take the deal, run, and never look back.” 

Astarion cradles your cheek, bringing your gaze back up. “Tell me where this truly comes from, because it does not sound like you.” 

“Maybe this is the new me,” you growl. The fire sparks angrily as your emotions become manic. 

You want to yell. You want to cry. You want to turn back time and forget all of the last years. 

You want peace. 

But peace has shunned you. 

You dig your fingernails into your palms, jerking away from his fingers poised under your chin, and lower your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “Maybe I’m not who you think I am; maybe I never was. Maybe all that’s left of me is broken pieces and ragged edges.” 

One of your legs jiggles erratically, shaking the bed. The old urge to run or hide is overwhelming, and you cannot keep your body still. Poisonous resentment and spiteful thoughts cross your mind. It’s his fault you’re this shattered shard of the person you once were; your soul a broken mirror that reflects some recognizable pieces of you, but some - most - of the splinters are too small to retain anything. You gave him your heart, and he absconded with it, like he had done to so many naive people before you. 

Now, he thinks he can return and tell you that you don’t sound like yourself without any consequences? Of course, you are not yourself! How could you be? But if you are not you, then who the fuck are you? 

Will whatever remains be enough? Are you enough? It would be so easy to blame him, so splendidly simple to lay the burden of pain at his feet, and he would shoulder it, likely without complaint. You don’t truly believe any of these thoughts. They are misguided animosities searching for anyone or anything to blame other than yourself, because at the crux of it all, you loathe what you’ve become. 

“Darling, tell me what’s going through your head,” Astarion urges, and his voice breaks you from your spiral and makes your head jerk up. 

“No.” 

You know your response and tone are clipped. Pulling away from him seems like the easiest way to keep yourself from hurting him needlessly in moments like this when your pain and anger coalesce into venom. Though it seems you’ve failed as you watch the hurt skip across his features and settle in his imploring eyes. 

“You talk to the cat more openly than you talk to me.” Astarion shakes his head, clearly frustrated. 

“Tara’s never abandoned me in the middle of the night,” you hiss through a clenched jaw. 

The memories of waking up to a tomblike silence, the creaks and groans of the wooden walls well up in your mind, his voice whispering to you that everything was going to be okay, which was a blatant lie. He had known he was going to leave. He had premeditated the breaking of your heart, and it stings. 

“I did,” he snaps, his shoulder tense. “I left you in the middle of the night. I abandoned you, and I knew what I was doing. I knew it would hurt,” he goads. 

His intention to provoke you into lashing out is obvious, but you seethe nonetheless. The guilt of having such toxic thoughts is gnawing at you, making your stomach unsettled. How could you even consider hurting him for a moment? He is your heart. Your soul. Your world. Your everything. 

He could kill you, by accident or purposefully, and somehow you would still find a way to crawl out of your grave and back to him, to love him so completely that you wonder if there’s even enough room left in your heart to love yourself. 

Astarion examines you for a moment, searching and trying to read you. Most days, you like being seen, but right now, it’s only intensifying your pique. 

“Stop it,” you sneer as the hurt simmering in you only grows. 

“Do you remember asking me if something was wrong that night?” He continues with a forced calm. His pain is carefully hidden behind a stone-cold expression, but you see it because, try as he might, he cannot keep it from his eyes. “Do you remember telling me you were scared, and I lied to you, didn’t I? I told you everything was fine when it was anything but.” 

Nothing will ever be able to erase that night from your memories. No amount of alcohol, tears, or running will ever be enough. You need him to shut up, lest you lose your tongue with unreasonable cruelty. White-hot rage clouds your mind, and there is a creeping sense of wanting to hurt him, wanting to let the corrosive words rise from your tongue and burn him. There is a sick part of you that wants to see just how far you can push him to see if he will leave. 

This conversation has become too much, and you do the worst possible thing you can in your desperation to hide. You lunge at him, slamming your lips into his in a bruising kiss and twisting your fingers into his hair hard enough to be painful. Astarion is not the only one who can use sex as a weapon, as a means of avoidance, or as a way to distract. 

His surprise is barely registered in the half-yelp he was able to get out before your lips mould to his despairingly, but his discomfort is abundantly obvious. There is a rigidity to his body; all his muscles are tense and flexing under you like someone who is waiting to be struck. Though he returns the kiss, it is mechanical. You know that this is wrong, but you press ahead heedlessly. 

“Stop,” he gasps against your lips. 

You throw yourself off the side of the bed as soon as the tight plea skitters across your lips. You clutch at your heaving chest, staring at him wide-eyed and wild with the horror of your actions. You stand awkwardly, half-lurched over, and unable to think straight. 

The same question keeps plaguing your mind: Who are you? 

“Astarion, I—“ 

He doesn’t let you finish. “No, don’t be sorry. I know better than most what that was. I see you. I understand you. You do not need to use sex to hide from me.” He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. 

He smiles kindly when he looks up at you. It only makes you feel worse. His arms spread, offering you sanctuary. As much as your first impulse is to dive into the safety promised, you take small, careful steps, keeping a close eye on him. Astarion waits patiently, and you see no signs of discomfort or the blankness that echos in his eyes when he withdraws. 

Climbing up the bed, you slide into his embrace. He pulls the duvet up, tucking you both in, and you settle into the comfort of being tangled up with one another. Your head rests on his shoulder, your forehead pressed into the crook of his neck, and your legs hooked over his lap. Astarion wipes away the wetness from your cheeks that you didn't even realize was there. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur again. “I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just—“ 

“Can’t get enough of me,” Astarion says, keeping his tone lighthearted. You can feel the smug smirk slink across his lips. “I’m not surprised.” 

But you know what you’ve done is a serious offence, so you try again. “Astarion, I’m serious. I feel terrible and sick over it.” 

“If kissing me makes you feel sick, I think we have bigger problems than you throwing yourself at me to get me to shut up, my love,” he quips, but his arms hug you tighter, pulling your flush against him. 

You’re flooded with warmth and gratitude, and you wordlessly press a small peck to his throat. It’s not nearly enough to express your appreciation or make amends for the boundary you just crossed, though. 

“We will get through this, Kamena,” he assures in a low baritone. “But we will have to talk about it at some point. You cannot keep running and hiding from this conversation. It must be had. I’m trying to be patient, and I can wait. Gods know I have a literal eternity, but I do not like to see you suffer so. I do not know what you need from me to feel safe.” 

“Was it easy to leave me?” You blurt out before you can rethink. 

Astarion jolts as if you’ve slapped him, easing back just enough to see your face but not enough to break the amount of contact between your bodies. “Leaving you that night was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Two centuries of torture, and nothing has ever hurt me that much. Nothing.” 

This information sickens and stirs a revolting sense of gratification in equal measure. It is comforting to know that you’re not the only one who has suffered at the hands of his desertion. It should not console you, though, should it? You should not be relieved that he hurt just as you did. The knowledge of just how far you’ve fallen disgusts you to your core, and you have to smother the urge to retch as if you might be able to purge this darkness your soul harbours. 

Maybe that is why you’re so afraid to move forward, one step at a time, into the future and away from the miseries that cast their grim shadows across your past. You are afraid that you will not like what you find there and that you will not like the iteration of you that awaits. 

All you can think about is how you wish for him to spread you open and fill you with him, with pleasure, with his love, as a reminder that you are still capable of feelings beyond fear, loathing, and disgust. You can’t even bring yourself to look up at him, afraid he will see the delight reflected in your eyes. 

“I know I’ve said it before, but I will keep saying it until the end of time; I’m sorry,” Astarion starts. “I—“ 

You clutch at the blankets and pull them up to your chest in a foolish attempt to shield your heart with something, anything. You cut him off. “We’ve discussed this. You don’t have to say anything. It’s in—“ 

“Stop,” he barks, and you can feel his glare, the heat of his eyes boring into the crown of your head. “Enough, love. Stop granting me avenues of excuses and room to distance myself from what I’ve done at your expense. You need to hear this, and I need to say it. Listen to me — I’m begging you.” 

You freeze, your fingers curling into his chest with enough force to leave red welts on his skin. Astarion doesn’t so much as flinch. If it hurts him, he does not show an iota of it. He cups your cheek, trying to get you to look at him, but you refuse, squeezing your eyes shut. 

He continues anyway, his thumb gently sweeping back and forth across your cheek. “What I did was cowardly. I was terrified to lose this, the love we share, due to my difficulties. You deserve so much more than I can ever hope to give you. By leaving, I thought I was protecting you from a lifetime of pain.” 

You mean to tell him to stop before your heart bursts, but words do not form, and it comes out as a pleading whine as you press further into him. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your breaths come quicker and quicker, progressively getting shallower until you’re dizzy. His arms tighten, and the hand on your cheek gently presses your face against his chest. He kisses the top of your head, burying his nose in your hair. 

Astarion inhales deeply. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. “Breathe, my love,” he coos. “With me now.” 

It is a difficult task to sync your panicked breathing to his calm, and it takes minutes before you’re able to do so. He waits patiently, humming in a deep dulcet like he used to. 

When you begin to relax, he picks up where he left off. “I knew I should have spoken to you about my worries and told you my doubts and fears, but I didn’t. It has always been my way; for centuries, I suffered in silence. I lost the fight between what I knew to be right and two hundred years of programmed behaviour. I am sorry for the pain I’ve inflicted upon you, for making you doubt how much I care for you, for making you afraid — all of it. I cannot undo what I've done. Gods, I wish I could go back and change it, but I cannot.” Astarion strokes your hair. 

His voice is becoming strained with emotion as he forces himself to bare his heart to you. “I hope we can rebuild what we’ve lost, and maybe it’s different than before; maybe we are both different than before, but that’s okay. It’s okay to be different. Whether you are light or dark, fire or ice, good or evil, you are still you, Kamena. You remain the same wild, goddess-like woman I met on the beach and referred to as a shrew." 

A raspy giggle sighs from your throat, and you finally tilt your head up to look at him. A small smile breaks through onto his perfect lips, and you trace them in the perfect bow as they curve upwards slightly. 

“You would still love me if I were evil?” You ask a little shyly, with your thumb still brushing over his bottom lip. 

If he can love you, even in darkness, maybe you can face whatever lurks in the future you’ve been avoiding by digging in your heels and sitting in your misery. 

If the only thing you have left is him at the end of this, you can live with whatever life throws at you. 

“Oh,” he smiles fiendishly, grabbing your hand and kissing each finger with his attention completely rapt on you. “Most certainly. If you want to burn the whole of Faerûn to the ground and dance in its ashes, I will hand you the match and help you start the fires.” He smirks momentarily. “Not that you would need matches, of course. You are fire incarnate, but you understand my point.” 

He pauses, placing a kiss on your wrist against your veins. His eyes comb over your face, studying you and reading the hidden language of your soul as if it were etched upon your skin. 

Pain and anxiety are largely writ on Astarion’s face. “I love you. I wish you would tell me every dark thought you’re having, even if they are about me — every wicked inclination, every doubt, and every fear. I would have you tell me every thought that goes through your head, so I can show you that I will always love you anyway and that I am not going anywhere.” 

The fact of the matter is that you resent yourself for being stubborn and unable to fully trust him when he is so evidently trying to show you in any way he can think of. It’s not that you don’t see it; it’s that you purposefully ignore it, but there is no ignoring it tonight. 

You must do better than this. You steel yourself. Take the step. 

“I’m scared, Astarion. I’m scared that if I take the steps to move forward, you will not like the person I’ve become. Underneath all these broken pieces, there is a darkness there that wasn’t there before. I can lose everything, but I cannot lose you.” 

It may not be healthy, but you would rather spend your lifetime in his broken state, battling with yourself all the while, if it means that you will rest, wake, and do everything in between with him by your side. 

“Come here, my heart.” Astarion shifts you so that you’re straddling him, arms wrapped around his neck, and your head resting on his shoulder. He presses a soft kiss on your shoulder, rubbing your back. “You could never be unloved by me, Kamena.” 

You are better than this ; your shame whispers in your ear. Try harder. Be better. The way forward is clear, and you can walk into it at any time. Why do you languish here?   

What rises tends to fall, you answer solemnly. 

Thank you to all those who read/like/comment/follow/reblog/etc. I'm forever thankful for the support. I love reading your comments ❤️

Chapters Master List - Shadows of the Past

AO3: Crossposted

If you're interested, I also write fanfic for Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav - Fangs and Fractured Hearts

[raphaellight]

Alastor made a deal while still alive?

"MILD SPOILER'S ALERT for Hazbin Hotel"

Alastor is one of the main party in show Hazbin Hotel, extremely powerfull and cunning sinner doomed to live in hell. He is an icon among a hole fandom with his smile, unique voice and silly attitude. Phew big and little facts about him were served for the viewers thruout the first season of the show. He was taking down overlords of hell to fill his broadcast, he has a beef with Vox and he dissappeared for seven years before the pilot episode. Tons of theories about him sparked around the internet, manly about his connection with Lilith, but the most prominent question, who owns his soul? I'm not gonna answer that one, but I have a small theory regarding that.

Let's look at phew facts about Alastor:

He was in hell no longer than for a hundred years, yet he managed to build a legend almost immidietly, as it's said he was recognized as "extremely powerfull newcommer"

He is on someoone's leash, yet he is an owner of phew souls himself, enough to land himself a place among overlords

His powers resemble Voodoo, especially with marks and the way shadows do his bidings when he wants

Voodoo, or actually Hoodoo magic, is closesly tied to making a contact with spiritual world on earth. And because for what we know, Alastor came to hell already OP beyond anything hell saw until then, if we assume his magic is at least part of what makes him so powerfull, then we must assume he learned this magic while still alive.

So you probably know where this is going. Does it answer much? Probably not that much. But it would be a fun fact. I imagine a human Alastor performing phew rituals and summoning a demon, probably Lilith and making a deal for something.

It could also be made into a great subplot of what even made Alastor evil in the first place. Maybe he practiced magic with good intentions and was twisted later? Maybe he was trying to save someone from illness that medicine couldn't deal with?

Or maybe he was cruel chaotic bastard from the start and just wanted more power with dark magic.

[a-strange-server]

🦋 Strange Tales Of Halloween 2024 👻

It’s finally happening! The most awaited server event makes its yearly appearance! Can you believe it’s our third time?! Here’s to participation in whatever form you desire, let’s be strange together and make some spooky things!

Anyway, as our baby event grows, this year we decided to make one significant change: instead of lasting a whole month, the event is set during the last 2 weeks of October.

Brief info:

The event is set between 18–31 October 2024

We are open to all forms of creativity (fics, art, gifs, etc.) 🦋

42 prompts to choose from (2 types: words & sentences); 3 daily prompts

The main rule — works centred around Stephen Strange

Tag with #strangehalloween2024, so we can reblog on our Tumblr

If applicable, submit in our dedicated ao3 collection

Art by @unnnamedidiot with permission to use for the event. Show your support and reblog their amazing art!

We hope that you will once again have fun with Strange Tales of Halloween, whether by active participation or enjoyment of the contributions! Please remember to show your appreciation in comments, reblogs, kudos, etc. We encourage you to let others know that you like someone’s work! The fandom and its growing content exists because we want to be there, engaging with another. This is what allows Strange Tales of Halloween to be organised each year — you never disappoint by asking about said event!

🎃 Prompt list, FAQ & rules can be found bellow the line:

Prompt List

Friday 18 October — Bedtime story | Basement | Potion

Saturday 19 October — Claws | Whispers | “Follow me”

Sunday 20 October — Lies | Trick or treat | Zombies

Monday 21 October — Abandoned mansion | Scarecrow | “I don’t take orders from a cat”

Tuesday 22 October — Web | Cloak | Vampire

Wednesday 23 October — Spell book | Horns | “Stay still, or I’ll chop your hand off!”

Thursday 24 October — Candle | Wanderer | Shadow

Friday 25 October — Stars | Ruckus | “Say, weren’t you the one playing that creepy tune earlier?" "…I thought that was _you_.”

Saturday 26 October — Screams | Sacrifice | Poison

Sunday 27 October — Morbid curiosity | Wings | “Well, that’s a nifty spell!”

Monday 28 October — Summoning | Buried (alive) | Angel

Tuesday 29 October — Smile | Kingdom | “Are you speaking Latin?" "Why, aren’t _you_?”

Wednesday 30 October — Deal | Pumpkin (Spice Latte / Carving) | Demon

Thursday 31 October — Full Moon Party | Halloween | “Don’t mind them, they’re in the wardrobe.”

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝

FAQ & rules 2024

1. What must be included in the content of a filled prompt?

Stephen Strange (any version of him: film, TV, or comics etc.) must be either the main or co-main character. Otherwise, anything goes!

2. Can I still take part in the event even if I ship Stephen with someone?

Well, that can be a bit tricky, but generally — yes, you can. We’d prefer to not having Stephen or the other character(s) being there for the sole purpose of shipping, but we’re not against shipping during the event, as long as it all resolves to showing the story or whatever you come up with, that regardless of the dynamic or chosen relationship (platonic, romantic, familial etc.), in the end, it is about Doctor Stephen Strange.

An established relationship, first meeting, or getting together could be allowed if shipping isn’t the driving force behind writing a prompt (yes, of course you can be wanting to have them together, but the thing is — dig harder. Romantic content is a given within the fandom, but the fandom also needs General content! Or/and especially good whumping or angst, or a detective story, an unique AU etc. There are a lot of interesting prompts, so it’s a very good opportunity to try something new or different.

3. What must be included in the tags of posts?

Use the hashtag #strangehalloween2024. Add either into description or a tag the prompts you use (or both). On Tumblr, please include additional tags for NSFW (or NSFT meaning Not Safe For Tumblr) and common triggers (see AO3 for examples). The triggers apply to SFW works if necessary.

4. When can I post my prompt fill(s)?

In the spirit of the theme, these should be posted between 18–31 October 2024. Any strict rules don’t really exist, but we'd prefer if you post prompts the day they were chosen to be posted, e.g. one of the prompts from Saturday 26 October (Screams | Sacrifice | Poison) on said Saturday or after it if you're late, but not eatlier (not on Oct. 20). Don’t worry if you won’t be able to fulfil something on time, you can always participate even if fashionably late. We’d still add it to the ao3 collection or reblog on Tumblr if we see it.

5. Where on the discord server do I post my submissions?

In our gallery for the event in #strange-halloween. It’s for submitting your finished works. Even if it's fanfiction or something that would usually go into art channels, this event is an exception.

Reminder: said channel is not for casual talking, not even about the event, there’s a separate thread within the channel for that.

If your work happens to be NSFW, the usual rules apply: post those into NSFW channels. But if you want, you can write a message in #strange-halloween channel to tell others that you have created something, and point to the appropriate channel.

6. What medium can I use?

Anything! Written prose, poetry, gifsets, mood boards, artwork, playlists, you can even cook or bake something! Make a figurine, crochet something, do a scrapbooking thing, do a cosplay, make a board game, or a quiz. An app for a phone. A game, a collage. Anything goes. All it has to do is to follow the main rule of the event — being about Stephen Strange. No Stephen? No contribution in this one, sorry. So, all is acceptable as a prompt fill. It's all about Stephen Strange in any form he comes in.

7. Can I combine different prompts into one submission (e.g.: Wednesday 23 October Spell book | Horns | “Stay still, or I’ll chop your hand off!” + an earlier/later one) ?

Sure!

8. There are 3 prompts per day. Do I have to do it all?

No. You can do whichever one you want. But if you want to do all no one would be stopping you.

9. Can I use your prompt list with other prompt lists/bingo cards?

Absolutely! Combine it with any other event you'd like to do.

10. Are there any limits to how many prompts I can use/have to use?

Nope! Participate with one or all 42 items! Do as much as you'd like!

11. I’m a bit confused about some prompts; what are the brackets for?

The prompts that have a word in the brackets or also a slash within are the ones where you can be a bit creative (and cheat the system to have more prompts if you try enough), e.g.:

Monday 28 Oct — there's Buried as a prompt. You can use just that word or include the one in the brackets to have Buried alive. Technically, you could also try a different way and get rid of the first one and only have Alive.

Wednesday 30 Oct — we have the prompt Pumpkin so either use this singular word or use the suggested ones to get a Pumpkin Spice Latte, or another option which is Pumpkin Carving!

So, you can either completely omit the additionally suggested words or not. Have fun!

12. I’m not a native English speaker, can I make something in my native language or the one I'm trying to learn?

Of course, there are no limitations. The more, the merrier! Any contribution is valid.

🦇 🎃 👻 🦋 Any other questions? Feel free to send an ask to this tumblr. We can't wait to see what you come up with!

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝

Have a great spooky time! 🦋🎃🦋

[felice-jaganshi]

His Pet

Alastor X OC

Chapter 13

(Content warning: Valentino attempts to SA someone. Nothing graphic, but proceed with caution.)

Everything was normal and chill for the few weeks Valentino was reforming. Alastor and Zariah would cook meals together and be found dancing together all the time, they looked like a proper happy couple! They'd occasionally go visit Rosie for tea and chat, and he'd even introduced her to mimzy, who was immediately jealous. They even had new guests at the hotel!

 

But, all banquets must come to an end…

Zariah went for a walk with Nifty one day, and didn't come home at their scheduled time. Alastor immediately went to Angel, insisting he call Zariah, since Al didn't possess a cell phone. Angel tried, but it went straight to voice-mail. This had Alastor very troubled. “She never turns it off when she's out. This is bad.”

Angel looked at Alastor, “We need to get a search party going asap.” He then ran off to get Charlie. Alastor himself went into the shadows to search the streets as quickly and efficiently as possible. 

Meanwhile, Zariah woke up tied up in red rope. But where's Nifty?! She looked around, the place was strange and unfamiliar, mostly blue with a giant fish tank with sharks behind her. She found Nifty beside her, still asleep and also tied up. Suddenly a door opened on the other end of the room.

 

“You'll love this present, I've captured Alastor's little lady love~. Now we can both get our revenge on that stupid radio demon. Too bad Velvette is too busy with her fashion show across the ring to join in.” Valentino laughed, excited to show off his gift for Vox. Zariah's ears laid flat on her head as they both approached. She decided to try to use Alastor's advice and forced her ears to straighten and point forward, then put on her most confident grin.

“Heh, you're the idiots! He's just been playing with you till now! Once he sees you've taken his favorite pet, he'll slaughter you both!” She was proud of how well she kept her fear down. She just kept picturing his face, he said he'd protect her. He promised, he made a deal!  

Vox approached her with a smile of his own, “Oh you'll be fun to break, won't you?” He reached out to her, only for Nifty to suddenly lunge at his hand and bite his finger clean off! Vox screamed and pulled back his hand. Nifty quickly turned and cut Zariah's ropes with her knife she'd hidden up her dress. “Run! I'll take care of these Bad Boys~!” She giggled and lunged again. Zariah got up and ran a full sprint! Luckily, speed and agility were her specialty. Valentino chased after her, beginning a game of cat and mouse throughout the entire building. 

____________

The others were going crazy scouring the city for any sign of Nifty or Zariah. Until Charlie managed to find one of Nifty's heels outside the Vee's tower. She called everyone else to her location, having Angel try to find Alastor to inform him of their lead, so Angel could potentially avoid dealing with Valentino.

The rest of them entered the tower and tried to sneak their way through, only for emergency alarms to immediately go off.

 ___________

Zariah ended up cornered, baring her fangs. “Haven't you heard, Mothman, a fox is at its most dangerous when backed into a corner.” He only chuckled and used his smoke powers to try and chain her hands up,

“And just what are you going to do about it, pretty little thing? You're in my house now.” She hissed and growled before lunging at him, she clawed and bit at him, drawing blood.

___________

The rescue squad tore their way through the tower's defenses, making their way to Vox and Nifty. Seeing the reinforcements, he growled, “fuck this shit!” He retreated and made a solid escape, completely abandoning Valentino.

 ________

By the time Angel found Alastor, it had already been an hour, “Al! Fucking christ you're hard to fucking find, we found her! Get your ass to the Vee's tower, asshole!” Angel was out of breath and had tears in his eyes.

Alastor's eyes glowed for a second, “Vox…” He fell into the shadows and raced off.

When he entered the building, he destroyed every camera in his wake, killing every sinner that crossed his path until he finally found Valentino raving and screaming, “Augh, where did that bitch get to now?! I'll fuck her till she can't move! Then I'll let that radio bastard see the broken mess his little pet is in before killing her.” He chuckled darkly. 

Alastor growled and his tentacles came out, lashing at Valentino.

“As I said before, she's not for your lewd videos. She is pure as fresh snow and shall stay that way.” His voice was distorted as hell and filled with pure fury. Their fight was vicious, eventually the others showed up to help. Alastor ended up stealing Vaggie's angelic spear and the fight ended with Valentino's head on it like a pike. He offered it back to her once he was certain Valentino was dead for good. He gave an empty smile to Charlie, “Tell Angel he's out of a job.” He then walked away, searching for Zariah. He summoned her chain and followed it. He needed to see what state she was in. 

 

When he eventually found her, she was curled up in a wardrobe shivering and hiding behind her tails. He breathed a sigh of relief,

“Zariah, darling.” He reached out to her only for her to scratch his hand and hiss. Her hand that had popped out from behind her tails was covered in blood, both red and gold.

“Ah! Dear, that was very uncalled for.” He wanted to be mad but… She was clearly not herself right now, he couldn't blame her for protecting herself. 

“Nothing's gonna harm you, darling, not while I'm around…” He started to sing the song from the other day.

“Nothing's going to harm you, no ma'am, not while I'm around.

Demon's may charm you with a smile, for a while,

But in time…

Nothing can harm you,

Not while I'm around…” Her shivering stopped and her hand retreated. He took the chance and pulled her tails down from her face. Her eyes were dilated into thin slits, and her face was covered in red, with a thin trail of gold down her cheek. She also had a rather sizable chunk of Valentino's wing hanging from her mouth. He smiled fondly at her, his own heart fluttering.

“Now dear, that is in no way the quality of meat you deserve. Drop it, and I'll give you something far more worthy of your refined palette.” He reached out and took the furthest end of the wing and tried to pull it from her, only she held it in a death grip. “Dear. I said, Drop It. ” It was a stern command, she would obey him.

She slowly released, letting it drop from her mouth. He threw it across the room and placed his own arm in front of her face. “Here, if you desire flesh, try a bite of mine~ I'm guaranteed to taste far better than that disgusting insect.”

She didn't move at first, but… after a moment, she leaned closer and sniffed his scent. She then pulled his arm closer to her, making him fall over into her space and crowding her. “Ah, dear! Careful now, I'm bleeding quite a bit right now.” She wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled into his neck, closing her eyes and purring. She began to heal him before gently biting his shoulder.

 

“Mine…” She whispered, starting to come back to herself. “My person, mine mine mine.” He felt a little uneasy from her claims… but he'd let it go for now. He scooped her into his arms.

“Alright, my darling, let's get you back home and all cleaned up.”

“Al… I love you.” She whispered.

 

“I… know you do. And I care for you too. More than anyone else in hell.” He turned to find all of the hotel staff standing in the doorway, Nifty bouncing excitedly, and Charlie looking misty eyed. Until they noticed all the angel blood on Zariah. Charlie was the first to speak up,

“Oh my…fuck! She's secretly an angel too?! Did you know? Did anyone else know?!” She was distressed over having this happen to her for a second time!

 

“Not the time for that, Charlotte.” Alastor said sternly. “I'm taking her to her room. No one is to disturb us. I am going to help her heal. Only Angel Dust may come check on her.”

[hellheld]

I KEEP A RECORD OF THE WRECKAGE OF MY LIFE / I GOTTA RECOGNIZE THE WEAPON IN MY MIND / THEY TALK SHIT BUT I LOVE IT EVERY TIME! AND I REALIZE I'M NO SWEET DREAM, BUT I'M A HELL OF A NIGHT!

au/rework of charlie "harlot" morningstar of hazbin hotel. based on my version of hell and with an original timeline that differs from canon. a study in the consequences of biting off more than you can chew, what's left after giving your body and mind for those you want to protect and failing, only to be forget who you used to be. also: head trauma, supernatural brain damage, body horror, rock and roll, helping people in the strangest way possible, being a hell - wide popular rock star, the fucking antichrist, and all it entails. WAS riotchrist but i got shadow banned and impatient so i remade ❤ READ RULES AND CHARACTER SHEET BEFORE INTERACTING.

( broke down and put myself back together again )

i decided that having strict rules was boring, and i want to branch out into the helluva rpc, so i’ve gotten rid of my “won’t follow if” that aren’t related to my accessibility ( being unable to read your blog, your carrd, or google docs ). that said, i will still be very selective with who i follow, and will simply block those who do make me uncomfortable and blacklist urls. i want this blog to be fun and chill!

tl:dr: hell is sentient and loves charlie. it speaks to charlie in their mind, and only to charlie. while searching for a way to stop the exterminations, after being ignored by heaven, they attempt to combine their power with hell’s. it goes bad! the power is too much for their body to handle, and they must either stop the attempt or give up their body to combine their consciousness with hell’s if they want to be powerful enough to take on all of heaven. charlie decides it’s worth it. hell decides it is not. their body is damaged and changed by the experience, so much so that charlie no longer feels like charlie. they change their name to harlot, and start writing songs to get out their feelings. they feel more like the antichrist than ever before, meant to destroy heaven and set the rise of hell. so they sing about it, drink about it, and be wild about it. their reputation turns from the naive, too kind for their own good prince to the ANTICHRIST, a performer rivaling lilith’s influence that parties nightly and overdoses often enough to end up in the hospital. the latter is just an excuse to visit the hospitals they run often.  eventually (second verse) they set up a hotel for those that need it, curious if redemption is even possible, or if anyone would even want to try and be redeemed. most of the occupants are simply demons who need a place to stay.

even if you've read the tldr, i still HIGHLY encourage you to read the full doc about harlot's backstory before interacting with me. i have a lot of hcs mixed into my lore, and this is not charlie.

if you have gotten this far, thanks! let's fucking party!

[storytellersnek]

Memes are cool but we do not stan Father Jim Defroque in this haunted satanic house. Fucker is an antagonist in the story.

He's not cute or a fun dude to party with. As much as the video is funny and the tune catchy, the comedy is only the sugary coating to make it easier for some to see how vile supposed 'men of god' are or can be. And to some of us, its a very real depiction of people we actually knew.

He's the guy that will beat the shit out of the boy he strings along or out him. Jim will use, exploit, discard and condemned women. He upholds the status quo and gets to do what he wants with impunity. He's an abuser, a predator. He's the dipshit who preaches for our rights to be taken away. He's a grifter who panders to the alt-right.

He's the scumbag who says its divine will when someone in a minority gets their 'comeuppance' and prays for their soul. He applauds the monsters that make it impossible for trans ppl to use a public bathroom or receive life affirming care but his most searched category of the Hub is trans. He is the snake oil salesman who says he can cure the terminally ill and/or says its demons. He preys on people and hides behind a book to feed his ego and habit. He's the fucker who rather we die than have the right to abortion. He's the piece of shit who will give you a sermon about the glass of wine you had but does Nazca sized lines. He's a liar and a thief and a predator.

People like him exist IRL. People who berated me and verbally, emotionally, and psychologically abused me for anything I did from being queer, sexpositive, wearing black eye-shadow, and listening to rock/metal or liking horror stories. To simply being raised aethistically or just the opposite of their own perfect family so therefore must be evil and wrong. My aunt hated me and called me a devil worshiping wh*re because I didn't drink, have boyfriends, or go out like her perfect god fearing kid did. My Nana was convinced I needed to be saved and used a very low point in my life when I was very vulnerable, leading me on line by line to welcome Jesus into my heart. Like some kind of trap or twisted deal.

He's a satirical form of some really shitty fuckheads. And potentially awful predatory people. Yknow like the Inquisition, holy wars, Christian nationalism, all the shit in the Vatican & Catholicism, fucking billionaires and the ever infamous tele-evangelists (which is exactly what the song is abt FYI)

He's a villain and the very thing this band talks about in their music. A hypocritical, self serving, lying, coward. A manipulative little parasite. An ego driven, shitstain who uses god and a book to hurt and use as many as they wish. To get what they want no matter the cost or who pays it. All he cares about is that he keeps his power and doesn't have to face any consequences. He's got a whole flock of sheep and plenty of scapegoats as a pastor. You'll never find him practicing what he's preaching. Won't see him sacrificing. He's got a congregation to do that for him.

He would hurt the characters of the band if given chance. With out the shadow of a doubt in my mind because people like him have hurt me for much less than what any of the characters in Ghost lore are or have done.

He's not a blorbo. Or a secret fling of one of the Papas. Defroque is the asshole who might have traumatized them. He's the conservative fucker trying to set the Ministry of Ghost on fire. There is no enemies to lovers trope here. He's the fucker who wanted to exorcise me for listening to ACDC and Iron Maiden

Needless to say Jim Defroque fans dni.

Edit: The Hockey players are apparently minors? Like Teens. So yeah I stand by what I said. Defroque can choke.

[saskiavalentineapologist]

SO

saskia and belialah. the empress and her shadow.

...im breaking my own rule of not posting any more original creations here but idgaf---i'll post some sketches and if there's interest i can throw this fic i'm working on up on ao3 for the monsterfuckers in the audience

so, backstory on THESE TWO:

i'm gonna go in real life order of events and talk about some of the inspos that went into some of these moments and where they were in our real life timeline of Experiencing these two

under the cut bc i must remain polite in the face of my hyperfixations

HELLO I MAY BE POLITE BUT IM RABID LETS GOOOOOOOOO

ok so, canonical order of events: saskia (matriarch) and belialah (demon lord) meet, they establish an alliance, belialah does stuff for saskia. at some point, saskia starts amassing her generals (we'll get there) and chooses belialah. somewhere in here as well, saskia splits from the empire and starts doing her Evil Deeds for her Evil Plans. I'm not sure which of the last two came first. in either case, lost later meets belialah, we haven't seen her (physically) since (but that's not a good thing i don't think)

irl order of events:

Saskia throws a Fit, kills her nephew, and withdraws from the empire at large. we make fun of her because though she's the big bad, she's also weirdly wet and pathetic. we hate her. she's so sucks. and also so sexy. its bad

time goes by, things happen, eventually there's a big party with all the matriarchs!!! yaaaaay

lost and gilt go because ofc we do, and there's a big dance where everyone keeps changing partners. at the end of the dance, lost gets belialah

...elven ish woman. obviously weird. too pale skin. black hair. disheveled appearance. ill-fitting dress. holds herself weird. talks with a tremble and a breathiness to her voice that immediately makes us uncomfortable (my mans can do some fuckin VOICES and don't get me started on the sound effects). belialah says she's a huge fan---of lost's father. the being from before creation whose whole thing is "immortal life but not in the good way" instead of "you won't die" it's "you can't die" there is no death to escape from life, no matter the suffering.

so--red flags.

she tells lost that she's one of saskia's generals, and that saskia sent her to give lost a message: saskia is so excited for her to come home, and that lost should bring her brothers (6 beings of various otherworldly heritage like lost--saskia has a type and it is monsters) when she comes home. Lost tells her to tell saskia, from her and gilt, to fuck off.

belialah goes...monstrous. red eyes start popping open all over her skin and she gets quiet and threatening about how lost is disrespectful and how--yeah, she will tell saskia that. and she leaves in a cloud of black vapor

i turn to chase. i say "oh they're fucking"

and he hits me with "...belialah would probably like to!"

and i hit the ground running. sprinting. i was off into the distance without another fucking word. little roselyn-shaped dust cloud left behind.

fic. art. works. stuff. so much. headcanons. throwing everything at the wall. attempts at first time. attempts at canon. saskia bitchiness. belialah wanting to smash despite the great danger to her personal health. weird fetish fic. modern!au. headcanons about modern!au. deep dives. analysis. narrative foils. sex. so much sex.

it's everything. they're everything

i want them to be terrible together. that's all i want. that's all i've ever wanted.

i set about creating for them in a frenzy--it's been love and war time for...since early may of last year?? some coming up on a year, now (again---150k words written in this time, with april's word count unknown but already above 10k. jan ALONE was 32k). love and war time means that it's always love and war--it's just different people inside the campaign. oh it's saskia oh it's freya it's gilt and lost let's bop over to adele what about gilt's parents-

FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR

it's been great.

Chase messaged summer and i a few weeks ago like "hey. i got a belialah meeting saskia inspo video, but i need to show you in person bc i need to get your reaction live."

he showed me this

we had a moment of "...oh my god its from a gacha game?" and then i made him play it three times in a row just Absorbing the vibes

chase: it's saskia and belialah when they first meet, with belialah thinking she has the upper hand and saskia proving that she is very, very wrong. but i don't know what a ball in the abyss looks like...

me: say no more

and i hit upon them meeting at an event where it's basically like---demons from all over gather, have a civil time---when bloodshed eventually happens (which it always does bc they're literal actual demons) it's a free for all and it's expected to be a bloodbath, that's part of the appeal

belialah's there, as you do, and saskia's there to talent scout from the pool of winners for her big evil plans. belialah's like "wtf is a stupid little mortal doing here why are you unaccosted where is your collar" kinda behavior and goes over there, they talk, they dance (also a ploy for power among demons, it's a sizing up thing instead of a fun thing), saskia reveals that she's got 1/8th of the power of a god in her soul and belialah's like "cool im fanatically devoted to you now i've never wanted to smash a mortal before can we make out"

and that's how they start their history

with me writing books about this campaign (again--pipe dream) i've been deciding on when and where i want these two to get highlighted, bc, again---we've never met saskia in person, she's spoken to lost and gilt directly once, and we've seen belialah once outside of saskia's bitchy announcement to the empire at large where she reveals she's got 12 generals and you better not try shit bc we're at WAR now (she's stupid i love her dearly)

and recently i've been working on their...first time? an epilogue for one of the books. the actual thing won't have sex in it if it gets to be part of the book for realsies, but im not stopping there bc IM ME

and i've been tinkering with like...ok how do we show in isolated little epilogues and snippet scenes that saskia and belialah have INSANE sexual tension so that when they do get together, its weird but satisfying bc again---belialah is a demon. she's got a human form. that is not her true form. i've drawn it, it's sexy to saskia, i'll post it soon.

but i need these two to snark at each other with saskia resisting belialah's advances bc "im trying to take over the world stop distracting me" while belialah's like "SASKIA LEMME SMASH. PLEASE" until eventually it happens because they're terrible and i love them and it needs to happen, frankly. im overruling my boyfriend. at the point we are at, they are fucking already. he does not have a choice. im overruling him.

chase, if you're reading this--the goal with this first time fic is to make it plausible enough that you accept it as canon. thank you.

bc like--they're terrible. they're perfect. they've both got bratty younger sibling/cocky hotshot who thinks they're invincible kinda energy and belialah has no doubt in her mind that saskia can achieve her goals and saskia is getting someone who will stroke her ego and is having the thought of "im being recognized for how amazing i am it's about time"

the generals have made deals with saskia---saskia is planning on following through with 0% of these deals. belialah is the only one who didn't--she's here by saskia's side of her own free will.

they're fucking. at this point, they are fucking. decades of sexual tension kept alive by distance and "hello old friend" energy is suddenly coming to head with Belialah Always Being Around and saskia having to plan out her evil deeds with her being nutso devoted 24/7 and listen, man. this woman has an ego the size of the planet. she's gonna smash someone who inflates her ego, it's just how she works

ok lore dump over. sketch time now.

[edoro]

i like to think that when Halsin first meets Angdiirn, he's a bit wary of it

actually, when Halsin first meets Angdiirn, it's when the party sets him free from the worg pens, so he's exhausted, furious, terrified, and overall barely clinging to his self-control because he's spent the last who-knows-how-long being tormented for fun in a cage, and the sight of a drow when he's in that state puts him on edge like nothing else

but it's a druid too, and it saved him and killed the goblins, and it immediately agreed to get rid of the goblin leaders, and once he's had a bit of time to pull himself together, he can shove down the immediate trauma-terror reaction and be civil

he's just civil, at first, though. it's all he can really manage. he knows it's unworthy of him, he knows that there's nothing about drow that makes them inherently evil or cruel and that a drow on the surface must surely have rejected the cruelty of their upbringing and that Angdiirn clearly is not Lolth-sworn... but knowing that not all drow are like his captors and traveling closely with one are two very different things

so he's civil. it's clear that Angdiirn admires him as a druid. it's always trying to impress him, listening attentively when he speaks, trying to get to know him, and Halsin does find it touching

being in the Underdark again is difficult for him, to say the least, but he can still admire the beauty of the place. Angdiirn can, too, and the two of them talk quite a lot about it - he's fascinated to hear of the differences between the northern Underdark it grew up in and these southern reaches.

this helps him get more comfortable with it, and the shadow-cursed land is where he really starts to trust it. it's as horrified as he is by the damage wrought on this land, and works just as hard as anyone to restore it. he finds himself speaking to it of things he's held close to his heart - not secret, perhaps, but too tender to speak of: Thaniel, his relationship to this land, his failure to preserve it

it tends to him, after his journey through the Shadowfell to retrieve Thaniel. it goes off without question or hesitation into the blighted land to find Oliver, and manages to bring him back. it becomes, without Halsin quite realizing it, more than just a traveling companion who unavoidably reminds him of things he'd rather forget. it becomes a friend and a confidante.

and then, because he's lonely and he cares for it, because it's been warm and kind to him, and perhaps because he's hoping to exorcise some of the demons of his past - or hoping to recreate something of that situation and feel a sense of the easy peace of total submission that he still longs for even now - he propositions it to become his lover

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

Day 3: Trick-or-Treat

Autumn. October.

The season and month many mortals seem to love despite the many flaws it could have.

Humans complain over the cold season.

Humans complain of the ghastly things that happen in the night.

Humans complain of the “harsh scares”.

Humans complain about being scared and not scared enough.

Besides popular beliefs, demons like Sebastian aren’t tied to All Hallow’s Eve in the slightest.

During this time, demons do wander about the mortal realm but not to wreak havoc among the humans that he finds so amusing, no no no, but to just… wander. Hell is rather small I have you know!

But ever since becoming a butler to the small human he somewhat grew to respect, he got used to the humoring buzzing in his chest about the ghost stories and impressions of his species to these humans on the night many enjoy and fear.

The butler watched as his young master fixed the gell of his hair that groomed back in a formal attire his aunt would adore to witness, nails painted black like the outfit he wore in a formal frilly design like a haunted doll from the dark shadows of his mind.

Today is the boy’s annual Halloween party he must attend and impress. Despite being in his teens he seems to have this eager joy still while doing these parties and wearing costumes and eating sweets, things Sebastian sadly can’t quite enjoy due to his upbringing but pretend is the most fun a demon can have.

“Do you think Lord Trancy will arrive, Young Master?” Sebastian asked, quirking a smirk at the tease. His little lord has been heavily surprised by how much his heart can handle from little things a certain little circus performer and a certain blond noble boy, his thoughts and smirk only growing in being proven right thanks to Ciel’s ear turning a lovely shade of pinkish-red.

The boy turned his head to his butler in a blushing crazed mad expression, blue eye wide and glaring. “Oh shut up!” He hissed at the demon, only getting a chuckle from Sebastian in return.

The party was settling in a calming motion, the scent of treats and the fire that burns and crisp in the little bonfires that were made earlier in the night, the cold hair mixing well with the warm ambiance of the crowd of party guests blending well in harmony, the sounds of laughter and fire popping echoing around.

Sebastian worked hard on having the event a fun memory for everyone, making sure every treat was done well and that every inch of the manor’s gardens and halls were decorated accordingly, having such great care and time with every activity and predicted event that will happen in the night so it wouldn’t be ruin by any means.

And yet he lost his Young Master somewhere in the night.

As the butler in black walks around the party, mingling with those who decide to speak to him with a warm smile, his red eyes glance and cross every nook and cranny for the boy wearing an eyepatch.

At long last after what felt like hours he found the boy in the manor’s halls taking a breath. His eyes soften some, same goes for his movements as he watched the teen take a wheezing breath. From all the years he’s known him, he has become more than aware when his Master becomes anxious or upset in crowded events, especially ones where his heart isn’t able to take the haunting memories of what life he had prior the Hell he was in…

Carefully, Sebastian made his way closer and knelt beside Ciel. “Young Master,” He spoke, soft and careful as if the boy was a bird that’ll fly away high any second now with his presence, a gloved hand just on the air to wait for that sense to take action. Once he was sure he was slightly calmer when he’s near, the demon reached up and gently rubbed the silky soft blue gray hair that became somewhat iconic with the noble’s many envious talks about the Phantomhive Estate, sensing the wheezing weak breath under his palm of the frame that shakes on the floor.

“Do you need me to cancel the other plans for tonight?” He asked, curious and generally worried for his Earl’s safety and mental health.

Ciel sighed out, lifting his head from his knees and blinking away swollen tears that were threatening to escape their socket prisons, white powder now slightly messy but luckily not too noticeable for concern of his appearance. His lone blue eye looked up at the older, sighing again as his shoulders slumped. “. . . They looked nice.”

Sebastian’s eyebrow quirked up.

“Pardon, my lord?”

“They looked amazing even!”

Ah, now it makes sense to Sebastian.

He honestly has no right to smile and hold snorts with the idea the first thing his master could muster to say was the costumes Miss Doll and Earl Trancy wore for the party, with the blond wearing a rather simple yet well crafted outfit of a black cloaked creature of the night in dark velvets and ribbons and bows while the tightrope walker wore something that brought flashbacks of the scandal of the Sphere Music Hall’s star theme with silky whites of the gown fluttering musically with the glittering golds and silvers that address and complements her pale and freckled skin and the white roses that wrap her brown hair like a angelic halo humans humor about in pictures, the little Lord Ciel Phantomhive’s personal demon and angel as so.

The teenage boy glared at his butler with flushed cheeks and a hissing tongue, “Oh hush up, you have no right to mock your master about this!”

Sebastian finally let out a chuckle, a small snort leaving out his perfectly shaped thin nose, bringing the hand that was previously petting his master in calm now to his face to hide his crooked giggling grin, “I apologize Young Master, but isn’t tonight a night that’s perfect for this occasion?”

The youthful doll expression twists and turns into a confused sour expression, only to ease and brighten when the butler presents a goodie, an apple coated in caramel and chocolates on a stick, he very obviously snuck off from the public eye.

Blue eye clashing on red ones as the butler spoke again, “After all, aren’t Halloween Parties one of the few places the youths can charm and swoon with one another without other people’s opinions holding them back?”

Sebastian picked up right where he was left off, handing out goods and compliments to the guests as they enjoy the games and party activities as children run around enjoying the fun memories they’ll keep forevermore and the adults who now have stories to tell to those who somehow missed such an amusing night, his red eyes glancing to the garden’s roses at the three shadows that linger there with muffled noises of voices.

He smiled some seeing as his Young Master ate his apple happily while chatting and laughing with Alois and Doll who seem to enjoy the energy of everything and settle in the quiet area away from everyone else. 

“Well, Happy Halloween, Young Master. I hope you enjoyed the many treats and tricks it had to offer.”

I'm VERY late to the Dadbastian Week event @dadbastianweek2023 is doing but I'll catch up the best I can and if not, here's first entry!

Costumes inspired by this beautifulness:

Doll's

Alois':

And I wanted to add nods of officially art so Ciel's and Sebastian's:

Happy Halloween yall

[threewaywithdelusion]

Stranger Things Shadowhunter AU

So in this AU, most of the main characters are Shadowhunters. The Wheelers, the Sinclairs, and the Hendersons are all Shadowhunters from old, respectable families. (Dustin's father died in battle when he was young). The Buckleys are also Shadowhunters, but they're not connected to the rest of the Shadowhunters in town for some reason. Maybe they moved to Hawkins more recently. Maybe their family is being judged for something they did a generation ago. Maybe Robin's parents being hippies translates to her parents being really friendly with Downworlders, which made other Shadowhunters look down on them. Maybe Robin isn't her father's daughter and is instead the product of her mother's tryst with a faerie, making her odd and unaccepted in the shadow world (like Mark and Helen Blackthorn).

The Byers used to be Shadowhunters until Lonnie was turned into a werewolf, back when Jonathan and Will were children. He came home angry and upset that he was going to be exiled from the Clave and he lost control of his transition. He Turned both Will and Jonathan, who then became outcasts. Ex-Shadowhunters who were now Downworlders and something to be feared or pitied. Joyce didn't get turned, but she stuck by her kids and faced the same ostracism as them.

Steve Harrington is a mundane. Nancy Wheeler is rebelling not only by dating the town golden boy but also a mundane who her parents would never approve of. Once Steve gets involved in Everything, he becomes an Ascendant and he and Robin become parabatai.

Will goes missing, just as he does on the show. It's not the full moon and they don't know where he's gone. Jonathan should be able to find him (they're brothers and in the same pack) but he can't, which makes the rest of the Party concerned. The Clave isn't doing anything, because the Byers may have once been Shadowhunters, but Will Byers is a werewolf child and thus not their problem. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin go into the woods to look for him and that is where they find El.

El has magic, so she should be a warlock, but they can't find a warlock's mark on her, which is strange. (She's the result of an experiment, à la Tessa Gray. Maybe they mixed a warlock with a faerie somehow. Maybe El is a warlock who has far too much demon blood in her veins, which when she discovers it, makes her worry she is a monster).

Most of the plot of Season 1 plays out, but with Shadowhunter shenanigans instead. Mike protects the strange girl they found in the woods. Lucas insists she must be a demon and they fight. Nancy bonds with Jonathan, who she's always kind of known but never associated with because Nancy was being a Good Girl and doing what was expected her and Good Girls don't hang out with werewolves shunned by the Clave. Steve acts like a dick and when he goes to apologize to Nancy and Jonathan, he gets dragged into the Plot and ends up saving their lives, setting up his future as and Ascendant.

I haven't quite figured out who the bad guy is (the scientists who experimented on El, who took Will because they wanted to test a shadowhunter/werewolf child? Some kind of demon?). Or what do with Hopper (is he a Mundane cop with the Sight, perhaps one whose daughter was killed by the shadow world? A Shadowhunter who has been stripped of his marks? A Shadowhunter who has lost belief in the fight after the loss of his only child?)

But I think this could be fun.

[joshuasumter]

Joshua Sumter and the Ironheart

My self-insert crossover parody retelling/reimagining of The Princess and the Frog (2009)

Short summary/premise: An autistic young man learns a lesson in love when a fateful kiss with a fairy sends him on a mystical yet familiar modern twist adventure, setting off a hilarious chain of events. It's like "The Princess and the Frog" meets "The Emperor's New Groove" with a hint of "Brother Bear." Synopsis: Think you know the story of Disney's The Princess and the Frog? Imagine a crossover parody retelling of the original 2009 animated hit where an autistic young boy, who once had it all and lived a single life, learns a lesson in love when he meets a fairy, and a fateful kiss sets off a hilarious chain of events that turns things upside down. Set in an alternate universe and its story based on 2009's The Princess and the Frog, young and autistic Joshua Sumter (Me) had everything he needed for living his best yet awesome single life. After all, romance would be the last thing on his mind as he makes his own moves, doing his own things, hanging out with friends, all that jazz. Things seem to be going well until Nadia Van Dyne (Wasp) comes to town, prompting Joshua's friend Lewis (Meet the Robinsons) to throw a huge, epic party for her. During the party, Joshua slipped away to be alone for a while…and this puts him into contact with Nadia Van Dyne and her friend, Riri Williams (Ironheart), who are in quite of a pickle. Nadia and Riri (with maidservant valet, Ms. Grunion (Mr. Peabody & Sherman), in tow) came to town in search of fun and adventure, but unfortunately, their arrival caught the attention of witty voodoo slick talker Frederique "Freddie" Facilier (Descendants: Wicked World). During the very day Nadia was to meet Lewis, Freddie Facilier put her scheme into action by luring the two girls and Ms. Grunion into her voodoo lair, where she turned Riri into a fairy and trapped her and Nadia in a jar while changing Ms. Grunion into the spitting image of Nadia. Then, she'll sit back and watch the chaos ensues…all part of a plan to take down Lewis's family and steal the family fortune. But there was a thing, or two Freddie did not anticipate -- Joshua being the wild card and a strange allegiance that'll undercut her plans when he meets Nadia and Riri. Soon, a fateful kiss with a fairy has change everything in Joshua's life, turning it into a familiar modern twist as his plans took a detour. Not only that, but Riri's and Nadia’s chance to get back home and outwit Freddie Facilier's plans of voodoo madness rest on his shoulders. Left with no choice and having a hard time cooperating, Joshua is convinced by Nadia to help them and bond with Riri, forcing them into an unlikely alliance. Now they must overcome their differences to deal with hair-raising dangers, crazy and wild comic predicaments, and even each other until they learn some valuable life lessons, including the meaning of trust and true love, as they embark on a groovy adventure to seek the magnificent Merlin (The Sword in the Stone) to undo the spell. While having difficulties and obstacles in their lives, they are being by joined by Kamala Khan, Doreen Green with Tippy Toe the Squirrel, Flik, and Jiminy Cricket…and an unlikely, budding romance was bloomed between Joshua and Riri along the way. But Freddie Facilier had plans of her own as she's in hot pursuit on their trail, bent on using Nadia's blood to further her purposes with the help of a few demonic beings in the form of an angry army of shadows and the epic powers that are beyond manipulation of both magic and mind. Ultimately, Joshua and Riri's love for each other made them realize that they must rely each other to get through the toughest of times…all part of growing up, putting things right, and learning the true meaning of their bond. CAST: Joshua Sumter (ME) as Tiana (Human/Frog)

Riri Williams/Ironheart (The Marvel Rising Universe) as Naveen

Iridessa (Disney Fairies) as Frog Naveen

Kamala Khan/Ms. Marvel, Doreen Green/Squirrel Girl with Tippy Toe the Squirrel (The Marvel Rising Universe) as Louis

Flik (A Bug's Life) with Jiminy Cricket (Pinocchio) as Ray

Frederique "Freddie" Facilier (Descendants: Wicked World) as Dr. Facilier

Ms. Grunion (Mr. Peabody & Sherman) as Lawrence

Nadia Van Dyne/Wasp as herself/Fake Naveen

Merlin (Sword in the Stone) with Bud Robinson (Meet the Robinsons) as Mama Odie

Joshua Sweet (Atlantis: The Lost Empire) as Eudora

Queen Tara (Epic) as James

Lewis/Cornelius Robinson (Meet the Robinsons) as Charlotte La Bouff

Bob Parr/Mr. Incredible (The Incredibles) as Big Daddy La Bouff

[anarchic-miscellany]

Terrible Video Game Idea: Persona 6

Terrible Video Game Idea Part 2:

"Persona" but in a shopping mall.

You take on the role of a new employee in the upbeat, snazzy, popular shopping mall erected in the city. It's a well paying job, and you need the money! But something is afoot here, there is a terrible secret going on in the mall. And soon it falls to you to stop it and solve the mystery! Accompanied by the mysterious powers of "Persona" and a few other workers here - you must take on these demons and save the world!

It's not just teenagers, it's adults this time!

Hiro - A spry and confident man at the mobile phone shop, who fancies himself something of a ladies' man. Unfortunately, as handsome as he is, he never got into college, and is stuck in this job. He loves his parents, even though they seem unhappy with his job too, and lives in the shadow of his elder siblings, but is happy to get drunk on the weekends and hang out with his band! You can shake this party animal from his rut and fight evil with him! And with his store, you can get first pick of all the tech which comes through!

Megumi - A clerk at the food court, this was only supposed to be a temporary position to make a little extra cash for her; now the wannabe author is stuck with no prospects and being looked up to by the young student workers as "the older hand". She's not even old! But it's money, and it just about pays bills... She doesn't want to be "responsible", or a killjoy or "the old crone"; she wants to be seen as fun, which she is! But it'll take a lot to shake her out of this preconception of her... And with her store, what better place to stock up on supplies?

Kaito - The security guard was kept out of the police force by his thick glasses, so he had to settle for this. It beats working another job and is the closest he's ever going to get to "fighting injustice" and protecting the innocent like he wanted to do when he was a child, which he still is at heart. He loves walking around feeling like a sheriff in the old West, or a beat cop, and pretends to have a secret identity! But stopping the poor and protecting rich store's stock isn't exactly a noble endeavour, and the kind-hearted man may not be cut out for this... Still! You can up his confidence, help him out and in return he will be a most useful ally in combating darkness! Hell, he even has the keys to the building!

Tomoko - Easily the coolest to many here, she works at the music store! Carefully cultivating a cool, collected and snobby persona as "the classy music snob"; she is actually super-embarrassed by her family's enormous wealth and her status as an heiress to a large fortune. Complicating things further, she actually really likes dorky stuff and music seen as "trash", but must be seen to be cool and "knowledgeable" about music. Can she shake free of her image and find a way to ground herself effectively, whilst discovering who she really wants to be? With the aid of our protagonist and his friends, she probably can!

Takeshi - He used to be somebody. He used to have his own business. Now the businessman is struggling to make ends meet here in the travel agency, an industry he knows nothing about and with strict quotas he is not able to to meet. He watches as those with more money and dreams than he will ever have come in and demand that he make their dreams come true, whilst he struggles to keep his daughter in school and a roof over their heads. His marriage is on the rocks, and he needs a miracle. What he does NOT need is the power of "Persona" to awaken inside of him, but he'll do what he's always done: make fucking do. His store gives you the maps and places to travel in this evil metaverse, don't navigate without it!

Yuuko - A gold medallist in figure skating, once known as "The Golden Swan" for her beauty and grace, now working at the sporting goods store, fitting ice and roller skates to kids and couples. She's constantly noticed and it's seen as a "fall from grace", but she's happy here! There are no pressures, no trappings of celebrity, no parents and coaches pushing her further: just a job she has to do! But she feels as if she should want more, and also: do people only want to befriend her because of her fame? Because they feel sorry for her? Because they want to hook up with the "Golden Swan"? She fears that she is boring and a washout: this adventure will hopefully change that! Her store lets you access the weapons and equipment you'll need to fight evil!

Wataru - The janitor. A grizzled old badass sporting tattoos and a cool beard, rumour has it that the man is a Yakuza. But Wataru is simply one of many lost in the shuffle: a day labourer, cab driver, dock worker and all round blue collar guy; he has shifted from job to job and struggled even to get this one. He's constantly worried about two things: being seen as useless and thus replaced by somebody younger (especially since upper management don't like him; and schoolchildren keep thinking he's a creepy old man or wise old man who has been a janitor all his life as some sort of punishment from the Gods); and word getting out about his sexuality, something most improper... You can hep Wataru kick some ass and show this old dog some new tricks! Plus he's the janitor: he's been everywhere, he can get into anything, and he'll clean up the enemy nicely.

Ai - The absolutely useless and incompetent new girl in the jewellery store, Ai only got this position because her parents are incredibly rich and famous stakeholders in the mall. She comes across as common and vulgar to the customers, and the snobby staff too, and it's gotten her down. She has no idea what she's good at, and knows that everybody thinks of her as "the rich kid who'll never have to work a day in her life", something she is keenly and painfully aware of. She doesn't know what to do, but her heart is in the right place. She has no real friends here until your gang of misfit employees show up, but she's willing to learn! Time to take charge and break free of your shadow Ai! And with her wealth and influence to call upon - she's a perfect addition to your gang!

You'll meet others in your adventures, both staff members of other stores and customers who frequent the place, as you get to know your party and yourself - in the most salary-based Persona game yet!

[adleryoung]

The story room feels sad and empty, with the pumpkin-spiced scent of betrayal still lingering in the air. Was it worth it? Was it worth selling out the elf that has bared his soul for your entertainment, week after week, for years? You start to feel pangs of regret - especially since the Kringle hasn't yet delivered the Oscar Meyer Wiener whistles you were promised.

Suddenly the door opens and Adler walks in.

Greetings, loyal listeners! Wow! I feel so refreshed after my vacation! This is the first time in a long time that I actually had a pleasant December. It was the strangest thing. Right after I left here, I could tell I was being followed. No matter where I went, there they were, shadowing me. It's like the Kringle's agents knew exactly where I was at all times. I was convinced that one of you had betrayed me. I didn't want to pook away unless I was truly cornered, so I dashed into a train station to see if I could lose them in the general hubbub. In the restroom I took off my hat and tie so I could wash my face, and someone must have taken them by accident. The ones I found when I turned around looked similar, but were definitely different. I have to say, these are not as high quality as the ones I had. Also, the name "Stuart" is written inside the hat band, so this is obviously not mine.

But after that little switcheroo, the agents tailing me disappeared and I didn't see any trace of them for the entire month. I was able to check into a nice hotel, order room service, and laugh at terrible Christmas movies on lowfolk television. I actually had a pretty good time! Since the holiday is now past and the danger is over, I decided to come back before January and give my helper a break. Speaking of which, where is he? Tell me he at least showed up, and you haven't been just staring at the walls all month. Handsome guy with a goatee, wears shades and a hoodie, kind of a beatnik?

Okay, well, good to know he did make an appearance and mostly did his job … but he was slated to fill in all the way through the end of December. I can't believe he left early! What a lazy flake! He said he was my biggest fan too. You just can't trust people anymore. Oh well, I guess since he's not here, I won't have to give him the thank-you gifts I got for him. Aw, yuck! He even spilled coffee on the book! Well, I won't be asking him for help again any time soon. In fact, I'm crossing that guy's name off the guest list. Make a note that Alder Guyon is banned from the weekly story time.

Were did he leave off? It must be the page with the most coffee stains on it… Ahem

. . .

"And it goes beyond just getting better prizes," I continued my spiel. "Keep in mind that when I say 'doing good deeds' this doesn't mean what you probably think it means. What Fuma considers good and evil is subtly different from what this Cosmic Ram and Baby Bunny consider good and evil … or, to be more precise, what the Ram's priests want you to think is good and evil. What Rebecca told me about the Cosmic Ram in his early days made him sound pretty cool, but he's obviously changed. Lady Fuma is a goddess of Love and War, Passion and Fury, and she has consistently remained so. She never went through any paradigm shifts. Many things the Church of the Bunny declares to be taboo are perfectly fine in Fuma's eyes. Parties, revelries, and fun are not only tolerated but encouraged! If you want to wear all black and dress like a character from a children's book, you are free to do so. You can even dance naked in the rain if you really want to, though that sounds like a sure fire way to catch a cold."

"That does sound better than I thought it would," the duck muttered.

"But I really had my heart set on selling my soul to a primeval chaos demon," the vixen complained.

"Aye," Mother Didelphis agreed. "Not to a goddess. It's the principle of the thing."

"Fuma may not be evil," Rebecca piped up eagerly, "but she's still an ancient pagan deity that predates civilization. Paganism is TOTALLY witchy! Fuma's also really cool. She spoke to me in a vision!"

"I don't know …" Mother Didelphis dithered.

"What was the Raccoon Monster saying about being Unseelie?" the mouse (bear?) asked.

"HA!" I scoffed. "You want to learn about being Unseelie from the Raccoon Monster, then so be it! Never let it be said that Lord Randall forced a moral decision on his disciples! Also, don't say I didn't warn you! Wait just a moment and I'll wake her up. Abrakazam! Alley-ka-pocus!"

I waved my hands mystically and apported a bucket of water. The witches murmured and applauded politely.

I dumped the bucket over Burnside.

"WHY IN TARNATION'D YOU DO THAT?" she spluttered, jumping to her feet.

"Because it's time for you to get up," I informed her. "Now is your moment. I tried my best, but these witches seem dead set on being Unseelie. If you please, tell the coven exactly how you would go about doing that."

"All right!" Burnside cackled, shaking the water out of her fur. "Now yer talkin! So you gals wanna be Unseelie? Good choice! You won't regret it! First an' most important, you wanna always make sure yer knife is razor sharp. Whazzat? Ain't got a knife? Well then sister, GIT you one right quick! That's yer top priority. Why do you need it? Well, skippin ahead a bit, for starters, you're gonna have to …"

I'm not going to repeat all of Burnside's horrible monologue. Suffice it to say, within the first five minutes Mother Didelphis had fainted, the duck was curled up in an egg-like position and hopelessly weeping, Rebecca was desperately clutching her enormous ears in a futile attempt to block out Burnside's yammering voice, and the vixen was anxiously looking for a discreet place to vomit.

"And once you burrow into his chest cavity," Burnside continued enthusiastically, "if'n you grab onto the inside of his rib-cage, he can't pull you out."

"Dude," the bear (mouse?) grunted. "That is messed up."

[ahb-writes]

Comics Review: 'Shadow Service' TPB #3

Shadow Service Vol. 3: Death to Spies by Cavan Scott, Corn Howell, Triona Farrell

adventure

fantasy

occult

science fiction

spy stuff

My Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Well, now, that's not good.

The supernatural intelligence community has witnessed a string of targeted attacks from all manner of simulants — tricky, powerful creatures that absorb the form of local folklore and rip apart local agents. Perfect timing. Gina has convinced herself that she's getting the hang of this secret agent stuff. This occult agent stuff. This being-a-witch thing. But shapeshifters are nasty business. And they're a global problem. Also, Section 26 is next on the hit list.

SHADOW SERVICE v3 is a riot of twists and turns. The first volume in this wickedly beautiful occult action comic produced exquisitely flawed (and entertaining) characters all too confident in themselves (and their flaws). The second volume was about scale, and about how the ego and petulance that clouds the judgment of humans so commonly clouds the judgment of the denizens of other realms as well. SHADOW SERVICE v3 is about one thing: betrayal. And if not full-on betrayal, then certainly the hindrances and dissatisfactions that manifest in their place when the institutions one trusts (or has no choice but to trust), contort themselves against one's favor.

Every chapter of this volume holds a hellacious twist. An otherwise well-plotted mission to recruit a member of The Department, Russia's supernatural secret service, goes to crap. A well-regarded teammate is fatally wounded. A well-trained agent from the Ministry of Esoteric Defense, China's occult secret service agency, makes her way into the West End and requests asylum. But whose fault is the botched mission? Must a dead teammate always be avenged? And is agent Hui Shoi-Ming, as buff and attractive as she is, telling the truth when she says her life is in danger?

Readers cannot be faulted if, upon finishing this volume, they are interminably fatigued by all of the sneaking around, the flashbacks, the speechifying, and the betrayals.

SHADOW SERVICE v3 is another solid book. However, the creative team leaves readers with zero time to rest. This is definitely the type of volume in which something remarkable happens on nearly every page. Gina and the delightfully snarky ghost version of her old pall Gideon Quill go house hunting, eventually stumbling upon the maternity hospital of the young witch's birth. Meanwhile Hex makes a mess of an interrogation when a doozy of a mythical creature crashes the party. Also meanwhile, Agent Hui learns an uncomfortable, blood-stained truth when the crisscrossed, unkept lines of command finally unravel ("What use is a scapegoat if you don't leave them behind?").

As with previous volumes, SHADOW SERVICE v3 is gorgeous. One highlight is the appearance of a flea demon, Bàolì: a wonderfully hideous, massive, eight-limbed terror of puss and teleportation skill. The demon's transparent torso seethes; it's face-shape is that of a skinless, three-quarters human skull; and the beast is colored with iridescent purples and blues that span the smoky to the cerulean. Gina is a great character, and Hui the flirty shapeshifter is a fun addition to the cast, but this volume's unquestionable highlight is the arrogant flea demon who teases and torments its prey.

Section 26 is in a bad spot. Fortunately, Gina is slowly unearthing the secrets and misgivings involving a deeper-underground coven of bootlickers eager to turn the world over to the darkness. Just what the heck is this "seventh scion" anyways? And why in the hell is it Gina?

❯ ❯ Comics Reviews || ahb writes on Good Reads

[loregoddess]

I beat Bigtits Sexiroth in 4 turns, I've hit the "everyone is too strong for their final bosses" levels I guess...(con't Octo2 endgame thoughts)

nothing wild to note about Castti's final chapter, although I think it's really funny everyone in Timberain is like "oh yeah, the king and crown prince becoming the new king suck, but we like to party soooo..." makes all the politics of Solistia even more batshit

forgot how fucking creepy Gravell is. Love that place. Absolutely haunted though. I have not been able to get that staff I like so much, but it's only a matter of time...

anyhow I did notice a few things for Osvald's final chapter. One is, he has an interesting banter with Hikari about the first ruler of Ku (can't remember the dude's name, but it's in Osvald's final chapter banter w/ Hikari for reference), and Hikari talks about how this first ruler of Ku fought against a powerful enemy who sought to plunge the land into darkness or...something along those lines. Anyhow, I'm wondering if this person Ku Prime fought against was D'arqest bc Osvald stated that D'arqest conquered a lot, and D'arqest fighting against multiple groups of people other than the Kal would make a lot of sense for...various reasons.

Hikari makes it sound like Ku Prime only won against his adversary (possibly D'arqest) bc of the power of his friends and allies, but it also makes me wonder how D'arqest's bloodline ended up intermingled with Ku's...and if the whole "accursed" thing doesn't have a double meaning (i.e. D'arqest literally cursed the bloodline of Ku, and also Ku is cursed by the shadow). Anyhow, gonna add this to my *slamming the gates of SE shouting "HEY I HAVE SOME QUESTIONS ABOUT SOLITIA'S TIMELINE"* list.

Also I think I noticed an interesting uh, sphere of light? In the cutscene when Harvey first tries to blast Osvald, but before Osvald figures out the One True Magic? Which is possibly Elena's power that protected Osvald and herself from Harvey's very first blast of magic?

Also Harvey totally references the fact that he owes Oboro something. Not directly by name or anything, but like, the reference is there, so that was interesting (didn't see a wild Ori, but I'm not expecting to at this point).

Throne's final chapter was fun. First off I guess I forgot Claude claims Father is his son, but he does, so I guess he didn't have all his children raised by the Blacksnakes, even if they inevitably found their way to the organization. This just leaves the question about whether Marietta was recruited to the Blacksnakes bc Claude wanted her to bear his child, or if he pulled a Ptolemy.

That mess aside, I did notice something interesting in the Gondola Man's story, in that the prince and princess of enemy kingdoms settled in Lostseed bc the princess was pregnant with a child. I'm thinking that child was Claude, and that the princess must have been D'arqest's daughter, and that he was able to get Vide's blood into the unborn Claude before she dipped. It would fit, given the whole "D'arqest did a lot of conquering" thing meaning he could have been leading a kingdom of some sort of other. It would explain why Claude was more interested in dying than being Vide's vessel, since if he had been the prince from the get-go, then D'arqest probably would have just turned Claude into Vide's vessel as a kid.

Regardless, Throne's entire storyline is still very MGS.

I'm still thinking about the fact that Elena was needed for Harvey's experiment to craft the Book of Demons and summon the shadow for his magic. Like the idea of needing an abundant amount of light to cast the deepest and most powerful shadows, aside from being very KH, is just making me think a lot bc like. Vide is the source of the shadow, and so wildly unique compared to all the other gods, and very not present in the Orsterran cosmology. And I can't help but think that Vide is somehow directly connected to the Sacred Flame somehow, like they're a new god or pseudogod who showed up bc of something that went wrong with the Flame at some point (unlike Galdera, who is one of the original 13 gods, and has domain over life and death, like Galdera very much has a place in the cosmology in a way Vide doesn't). I'm a bit familiar with some of the lore from CotC about how the Flame can be corrupted and people trying to ascend to godhood and screwing up royally, but I'm not sure how much of that is solid canon or if it would even apply to Solistia. But I do get the feeling that light is somehow important to whatever is going on with Vide.

Oh, and for fun, I really did beat Claude in 4 turns, and without even using A Step Ahead. I took two turns to break him, spent one turn whaling on him with Ochette, Throne, and Hikari (and Castti but I guess as a warmaster she needs DMD bc even at only two boosts, her poison axe hit the 9999 limit). Claude then spent the beginning of the 4th turn doing the mid-battle dialogue, the cool second-part boss music with Throne's theme started up...and he died of poison after smacking Castti with a chain. I completely bypassed him summoning Pirro, Mother, Father, and the Throne and Marietta puppets. Absolutely batshit wild for me, I've never cleared a boss fight that quickly.