#had to drink a lot of fireball to get here

[mint-fixates]

If you've been following my concept for an AU where Bill isn't evil, you'll know I've been planning to write a fanfic about it. I plan on posting an actual multichapter AU fic on AO3 eventually, but here's a snippet from one of the early chapters for now because I'm drunk and haven't decided I hate it yet

"Well, children, I think it's finally time I introduce you to my husband."

Mabel's eyes widened. "Ohmygosh, Grunkle Ford, you have a HUSBAND?!"

Dipper furrowed his brows. "Our parents never mentioned you being married..."

"Yes, well," Ford cleared his throat, eyes darting around, "The family doesn't exactly... Know. Well, aside from my brother, Stanley, who I'll also be introducing you to fairly soon."

"Grunkle Ford, do you really think the rest of the family would judge you for liking guys?" Mabel raised an eyebrow, "I like guys and girls, and no one cares!"

Ford shook his head. "Oh, no, that's not why I- you know what? It'll be easier to explain once you've met him."

He led them to his room. Mabel was bouncing in place with anticipation, while Dipper was looking at his great uncle skeptically. Why all the secrecy?

Ford knocked on the bedroom door. "Bill, are you in there? I'd like to introduce you to the kids!"

"Ugh, FINALLY! I was going insane hiding in this damn room all day. Well, more insane than usual, haha!" a chipper, pitchy voice said on the other side of the door.

The door opened to reveal... A floating yellow triangle. He had one eye, a bowtie, and a top hat. He was holding two small sacks, both seemingly made from the skin of some indeterminate creature.

"Hiya, mini-Pines! Name's Bill Cipher," he tossed each of them a bag, "A little something to welcome you in!"

Dipper had several questions, but was currently stunned into silence. He opened his bag curiously, fighting the urge to throw it down the hallway when he saw its contents: teeth. The "present" prompted a whole new series of questions: What kind of teeth even are these? How did he get them? Why did he think that this was an appropriate gift for children?

"Woah..." Mabel said as she rifled through her bag, "Are you, like, the reverse tooth fairy? Do I owe you money now?"

Bill laughed. "Nah, these are on the house, kid!"

Dipper cleared his throat, finally finding his voice. "Uh... Great Uncle Bill? Can I ask you a few things?"

Bill shrugged. "Sure, Dip, whatcha got?"

Ford gave his nephew a knowing smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Actually, Dipper, I probably have most of the answers you're looking for written down already. I interviewed him extensively once he got here. Where did I put that old journal...?"

[ghoststyles]

Fairway to Heaven - Part 1

Hi!! I’m so excited to post my first-ever Harry fic! I’ve been on 1D Tumblr since the very beginning, logged off for 5 years and now I’m back 💀 So I’ve had a lot of ideas over the years that have just lived in my head. GOLFRRY + MUSTACHRRY are my weaknesses, so this is my twist on a golf/bev cart girl + agegap fic 🤩

I’d love to hear your thoughts. I have most of the story written, so I should be able to have a consistent posting schedule. Not sure the total # of parts quite yet. I’m also happy to write additional blurbs if y’all like Harry and Briar as much as I do 🥹🐥🦊 

Here is a mood board I put together. Feel free to picture Briar however you please. The mood board is just to set the vibez!

Without further ado...Enjoy!

~

Word count: 4.5K

Contains mature themes. Read at your own discretion. Agegaps, cursing.

Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4

~

By the time she gets to her designated cart, she’s already fifteen minutes late; but her iced coffee is the perfect color, and her hair didn’t give her too much trouble this morning. A win is a win.

Briar Barlowe quickly dumps a bucket of ice in her cart’s side cooler as the bar back begins filling the bin with the usual suspects: Bud Light, Michelob Ultra, Fireball, Tito’s, Casamigos, Ginger ale, and, of course, grape juice. She makes sure to keep her lavender cups stocked and plenty of fun straws to make everything more fun. She even decorates her tip jars to say funny jokes.

Since starting at Wynnewood Country Club, Briar has gained a bit of notoriety among the players as the girl with a bright smile and a heavy pour. This job is exactly what she needs to fill the gap between graduating college and beginning her business degree in the fall. Good money, stress-free responsibilities, and time spent in the sunshine.

Her Uncle, Patrick Barlowe, is the golf pro at Wynnewood; a local legend who was just shy of making the PGA Tour himself. He spends his days teaching lessons, running the pro shop and serving on the Board of Directors for the club. If you’re in with Patrick, you’re in with everyone.

When he heard her worries of not finding a summer job after graduation, it was a no brainer to offer her a position as a beverage cart girl. They both gaze out over the course from a table under the gazebo on the top deck of the club’s restaurant.

“That job sounds a little sexist, Uncle Patrick,” Briar sneers. All she can picture is driving around in a little dress and a visor like Malibu Barbie, answering the male members’ every beck and call.

The club is gorgeous; first built in 1914, and the architecture reflects it. It has two golf courses, 4 tennis courts, a pool, and deluxe spa. The member fees skyrocket each year, upping the amenities and overall snootiness of the members.

“The money is good and the members are pretty harmless. From the way you’ve swindled me into throwing teddy bear tea parties, I think you’ll do just fine on the sales aspect.”

“Fine. When do I start?”

Patrick leans back in his seat, “I’ll call Dominic in the morning.”

With that, they finish their drinks and appetizers just as the sun sets.

Walking out to her car, she sees a black Range Rover pull under the carport. The boys at the valet stand are already bickering over who gets to drive this one.

Based on the surrounding town, the level of pretentiousness at the club never surprises Briar. The yearly member fee for the club can cover 2 years’ worth of her business school tuition alone. She shakes her head and jumps into her hand-me down Jeep to head back to her apartment, paying no mind to the man entering the front door of the club.

~

Her shift this morning started out in the frigid cold, forcing her to change outfits later in the day as the sun came out. She’s sporting her black athletic skort and a racerback tank top. She opts to leave her hair down and sport her black and white Nike trailblazers to keep the look casual.

With a few weeks’ worth of shifts under her belt, she’s learned the ways of the club and fallen into a good rhythm. On any given weekend day, she has to head to the clubhouse to restock twice before 12PM. Today is not one of those days.

As temperature warms up, the course begins to fill up. In the last hour of her shift, she’s left with only a few beers and a few shots worth of Tito’s. Her tip jar is a little emptier than usual, but the pun on her sign got a few chuckles. She sets up shop on the 17th hole and snaps a few photos of the sunset.

“I shot one under today. One under a tree, one under a bush, and one under the water.”

Briar jumps at the voice behind her. Is that an Irish accent? She leans to peer over the side of her cart. She sees a man, older than her, donning a light blue polo with dark blue pants and a white hat, reading the joke on her jar.

“Clever, isn’t it?” She smiles kindly at him.

“Hilarious. It’s like ya been watching my game today,” he laughs. He moves closer to where she’s standing.

“Can I get you anything? I’ll be honest, I’m mostly wiped out.”

He peers down at the contents of the cooler. “I’ll take that last Mich Ultra. Do you have any Casamigos left? My mate is a little picky.”

“No Casamigos,” she says with a slight frown. “I’ll try to keep my drinking to a minimum next time and save you some.”

He lets out a loud laugh and squeezes his eyes shut. “Alright, just this then. He’ll have to deal with it.”

“I can offer you some Peanut M&M’s for your troubles,” she says, pulling out her iPad to ring in the order. “Do you have an account with the club, or do you want to pay cash?”

“The account is under Niall Horan,” he says, putting a $20 bill in the jar. “Thanks for the M&M’s, darlin’.”

“I’m Briar. It was nice meeting you, Niall. Thank you!” She beams. He smiles and starts heading back to the path toward the clubhouse.

~

After cleaning her cart and counting her money, Briar finishes the day drinking a mojito at the bar, while Cam, her new friend at the club, is working her bar shift.

“How was it out there today, babe?” Cam asks.

“Slow at first, but it definitely picked up. I couldn’t even head back for a restock. Luckily, the members I got at the very end weren’t picky.”

“Oh! Did you see Niall?” she asks as she puts glassware in the dishwasher.

“Yeah,” Briar furrows her brows. “How did you know?”

“I used to serve him on the front course all the time. Now that I’m too old and wretched to work out on the course, he’ll visit me in here sometimes. He mentioned playing the back course with a friend today.”

Briar is always assigned to the back course. There are only minor differences in difficulty, but she finds the back course to be a little more calm and serious. They’re also a little more generous with their tips. She’s not sure if her assignment has something to do with her uncle’s knowledge of the club’s inner workings.

“He is really nice, and generous. I didn’t get to meet the friend, though. Did you?”

“Yes, he was a little more reserved. But Niall is a riot, so he makes anyone look calm. I didn’t catch his name.”

Briar hums and stirs her mojito around as she stifles a yawn. “Well, I’ve been here since 7:30 this morning, so I am ready to goooo,” she drags out her last word. She waves bye to Cam and begins the trek to the employee parking lot.

As she’s walking, she gazes up to the upper deck of the restaurant where she can just barely make out Niall standing by the railing. He’s talking animatedly and waving his beer bottle around.

A bit off to the right, peering down at her, is a tall, striking man with dark features wearing a white button down and a sport coat. The top two buttons are undone just enough to see his collarbones.

The club has a strict dress code for the restaurant. Briar often does a double take when she sees members out of their golf clothes. She wonders if he’s even allowed to show that much skin.

Shrugging it off, she continues toward her car, but not without looking back at the man. He’s still looking at her, curiously, taking a sip of his drink and turning away not long after she looks up.

She can’t help but get this strange feeling, almost as if the hairs on the back of her neck are standing straight up.

~

As the summer starts to heat up, so do her shifts at the course. By the end of them, Briar’s hair is sticking out sideways and her make up is smeared down her face. She bought a miniature fan that clips right to the visor of her cart to keep her cool throughout the day.

It’s just past 8:30 in the morning on Tuesday when she hears a familiar voice on the 8th hole. She squints and sees Niall, along with the dark haired man from the other night. There are a few guys she doesn’t recognize standing with them.

She maneuvers her cart through the winding path, closer to where the men are.

“There’s the beer angel!” Niall shouts. She smiles and shakes her head. He comes jogging over. “I hope you’re fully stocked this morning.”

“Yep, I am! I even have a few breakfast sandwiches, if you’re interested.”

His eyes light up as she pulls out a bacon, egg and cheese on an everything bagel from the warming drawer. Chef Lambo, the executive chef of the club, made them especially for Briar’s customers.

“Yesss. I’ll take one of those, a Mich Ultra, two Transfusions, and ��� H! What do you want?” He yells, partially turning to face his friend in the distance.

She faintly hears, “Casamigos!”

“And a Casamigos on the rocks, with a lime,” he finishes. It takes her only a few minutes to make the cocktails.

“Do you want these on your account?” Briar asks Niall.

He takes a huge bite of the bagel and mumbles, “No, you can put it all on my mate’s. Last name is Styles.”

Styles, or, “H” as Niall called him. The mystery man’s Last name is Styles. And, he’s a member here.

“Got it. Well, good luck today.”

“Thanks, we’ll need it. We’re trying to close a work deal with the two guys we’re playing with. Hey, don’t be afraid to swing by us multiple times. We can use all the schmoozing we can get,” he smiles.

“I think I can do that. Let me know if you need help, I’m told I’m very persuasive,” she smiles as she takes the emergency brake off of her cart. He throws another $20 in her jar and then waves, nearly dropping all of the items in his hands.

Niall returns to his group, handing out their drinks. Briar continues to watch before pulling away. H steps out from behind Niall, slightly lifting his cup — his lavender cup — towards her, as a thank you. His facial expression is stoic, watching her carefully.

She smiles to herself and drives off. The rest of the shift goes by in a blur. She swings by Niall and H’s group a few times. Each time, Niall greets her to grab more drinks and snacks.

Is that on purpose? If the drinks are on H’s account, why isn’t he coming over? She’d like to get a closer look at him. She chews on the inside of her lip and continues on with her closing duties. She loves the morning shift; in early, out early.

~

After parking her cart in the garage, she can see her uncle in the pro shop, glasses on the tip of his nose, peering down at something. She lightly knocks on the door and pushes it open.

“Hey, Briar bear,” he says, looking up at her. “How was your day?”

Briar sighs at her childhood nickname, plopping down on the couch by the practice putting green. Members can test out clubs before purchasing them in the pro shop, making it an optimal spot to hang out and mess around with all of the clubs.

“It was good, I just have to get used to waking up this early again. And I already know you’re going to say, ‘welcome to the real world, kid’, so just stop there,” she says sassily.

Patrick chuckles and focuses back on with his paperwork. They’re quiet for a few moments.

“What’re working on, anyway?” she asks, craning her neck to see what he’s doing.

“Just some budget sheets, and making a list of members who haven’t had a lesson from their amazing in-house golf pro,” he says, punching numbers into his phone calculator.

“They get a free lesson from you?”

“Yes, when they join. But now, to keep up member retention, we’re going to offer sessions to members who have been here for 5 years or more,” he scratches his temple. “Most of ‘em don’t need it, but I feel they always leave with a new drill to practice and some sage advice from yours truly.”

“That’s cool,” she replies absently.

“Wanna help?” Patrick asks her. She nods silently and takes a seat beside him. She sees a list of last names, first initial and  an “X” next to their name if they’ve taken a lesson.

She notices an X next to “Horan, N.” but not “Styles, H”. Interesting.

Briar continues to audit the two lists, until she hears her uncle clear his throat.

“Hey, are you going to hang here for a bit? I need to run back into the main clubhouse for a few minutes.”

Patrick runs the pro shop solo during the day, until a high school or college kid can come in in the afternoon.

“Yeah, I’ll hang here. What do I do if someone needs something?”

“Then you can entertain them with your dazzling personality until I get back,” he teases, sticking his tongue out. “Alright, I’ll be back.”

“‘kay,” she says, walking back to her original spot on the sofa, laying her head back on the edge.

Her eyes are shut, only for a minute, until a brilliant idea pops in her head. She rises off the sofa and saunters over to the computer her uncle was just working on.

The employee portal is logged in under Patrick’s account. Briar doesn’t know much about it, aside from using it to clock in and clock out. It’s still on the member screen, an area she’s 100% sure she doesn’t have access to.

She peruses the site until she finds a “Member Look-Up” tab. Briar’s intrusive thoughts win.

She slowly punches in S-T-Y-L-E-S and waits for the results to populate. 2 results found.

She clicks on the first profile. An account pulls up for a Paul Styles, and a photo of a white-haired man pops up.

Well, that’s certainly not him, Briar thinks to herself. She exits out and clicks on the next account. No profile photo opens, but the name is at the top. She bites her thumbnail in anticipation of what she’ll see.

Harry Styles. H. Niall’s mysterious friend. The tequila lover.

She starts to scroll down the page. The profile is more bare than the other man’s, but she can see the basic things about him. He’s 41, joined the club 8 years ago. He lives in another pretentious town only a few miles away.

Then, she sees a “Member Activity” tab. Out of curiosity, she clicks on it. Her eyes widen, seeing every transaction he’s ever made on his account. His “dues” each year. Holy shit.

His purchases seem pretty standard for members of Wynnewood. Mostly rounds of Casamigos on the rocks (shocking) and dinners ranging from $100-$400, with a few bills over $1,000.

He joined 8 years ago, but his transactions have only begun to pick up in the last month or so. Before, his visits were sporadic at best.

Briar can’t even fathom having that sort of money to throw away. She started working at age 14 and never stopped. The only reason she gets a taste of country club life is because of her uncle.

She closes out the portal, not wanting to risk Patrick walking in while she’s snooping around. She returns to her spot on the sofa and begins playing 1010! on her phone.

She exhales and tosses her phone to the side. As she sits up, Patrick reenters the pro shop.

“Thanks, Bri. Heading home soon?”

“Yeah, I gotta get back home for Gus,” she smiles, thinking about her dog. Her baby.

“Alright, I’ll catch you later. Say hello to my buddy for me. And give him a butt scratch — Tell him it’s from Uncle Patty.”

“Will do. See ya.”

~

When she’s showered and comfy at home, with Gus, her Bernese Mountain Dog, snuggled at her side, she finally feels relaxed. 

She’s worked nearly every day since she started. But, those are the sacrifices of a summer job.

She turns on Selling Sunset on Netflix to drown out the silence of her apartment. Already bored of this season, she pulls out her phone.

One last round of stalking, then she’ll let it go. She opens Instagram and begins typing in Harry’s name in the search bar. Nothing. Hm.

She tries Niall, immediately getting a hit. She clicks on his account to find it public, full of funny and happy photos. He’s clearly from Ireland, but has lived in the United States for some time. She wonders if he went to school here, or if he just got a job here.

She scrolls down to a group photo — on the golf course, of course — of Niall, Harry, and a few other guys. They look a lot younger here. She can see the photo is from 7 years ago. Harry’s stoic face is a stark contrast to Niall’s infectious smile. She clicks on the photo to see if Harry’s profile is tagged. Nothing.

Defeated, she moves onto LinkedIn. She tries Harry’s name again. Within 10 seconds of the search engine results popping up on the screen, her eyes land on exactly what she’s looking for. He has a profile. Her heart starts beating a little faster.

Really, Briar? All this for a guy you’ve barely caught a glimpse of? She clicks on the profile and sees the most gorgeous man at the top. He looked good from afar, but this is totally different.

Sticking out to her is his chiseled jaw, pouty lips, and beautiful (green?) eyes. His hair is longer in this photo than what she’s seen him with the past 2 times at the club, but she figures this page is old.

She scrolls down to the employment history. He works for a hedge fund. No wonder he has that kind of cash laying around. He’s been at the same company for a number of years, and received his bachelor’s degree from Georgetown and his MBA from the University of Pennsylvania. Smart dude. 

She notes his MBA graduation year is 2006. She laughs, knowing she was probably still playing on a playground that year. 

She exits out of the page, proud of her findings. She decides to text Cam about Niall’s friend.

B: Hey! So I totally stalked Niall online. His friend’s name is Harry! 😆

C: So funny, how’d u do it? 😂

B: Instagram for Niall, and earlier, I used Wynnewood’s portal to look up Harry. I just went on his LinkedIn, too. Now, I know all about his work and schooling, lol.

C: Your account is private, right? 😳

C: It notifies people if you’ve looked at their profile unless you’re private…

B: What?! I didn’t know that…WTF do I do?

Briar’s stomach drops. He’s probably already gotten the notification by now. She’s mortified. She logs back on to LinkedIn and deactivates her account. Reddit says those are her best chances of counteracting the notification.

She decides to go to bed, but ends up tossing and turning until 3 AM, knowing her alarm is set for 6:30. She stares at the ceiling, pleading for Harry not to show up at the club tomorrow.

~

The morning comes around, and after mustering enough courage to get up and make herself presentable, she rolls into work, ready to jump on her cart and be lazy. The universe (or Uncle Patrick, probably!) has a different plan.

Since it’s a holiday weekend, Briar is working inside for a change. She feels a little out of her element. She’s worked in restaurants in the past, but it’s always a little stressful when you have know idea where anything is, or how to use the register.

Taking a moment to survey the large banquet room, she doesn’t see Niall or Harry. She begins to relax. Until, 30 minutes later, she sees both of them enter and begin talking to the hostess.

Please don’t go to my section, she thinks. She watches the girl gathers 4 menus and turns to lead the men further into the room. Briar’s worry grows more with each step the hostess takes toward her section. Fuck.

She seats them down at a 4 person table right in the middle of Briar’s section, assuming the two men from yesterday will be joining them.

She takes a few deep breaths before grabbing a water jug and two stemmed water glasses. She casually approaches the table, lightly placing the water glasses down and filling them.

Niall looks up briefly with a smile before exclaiming, “There she is! I requested you to be our server after I saw you at the coffee machine over there.”

Briar smiles before turning her attention to Harry, who hasn’t glanced up from his menu. She looks back at Niall.

“Awesome! This is going to be great,” she lies through her teeth.

While this exchange is happening, she can feel Cam’s eyes burning through the back of her head. Cam is the service bartender of the day, so she has time to people watch and laugh at Briar’s bad luck.

“Are we waiting for any more guests to join us?” Briar asks.

Niall clears his throat and says, “Yes, those two blokes from yesterday. Harry here is going to close the deal with them today.”

Harry glances up at her with a shy smile. She reciprocates, unsure if he’s aware of her cyberstalking from last night.

“Wow, well, I’ll make sure my service is extra good, then. Can I throw in some drinks while you wait?”

“I’ll have an Old Fashioned. Harry?” Niall turns to his friend.

“Casamigos on the rocks for me, please. With a lime. Thank you.”

“You got it,” she says with a tight-lipped smile. Of course that’s the very first thing he ever says to her. And he’s BRITISH?

Cam laughs as the ticket prints at the bar.

“Oh, shut up,” Briar grumbles.

~

The other men finally arrive, and the meal goes by at a snail’s pace. When the group is finally ready to order, Briar is already mentally checked out. Briar goes to take Harry’s order.

“What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have the chicken, please,” he says simply.

“And how would you like that cooked?” Briar asks, furiously scribbling on her note pad.

Harry’s face contorts to a perplexed look, almost as if he was about to laugh.

“Um…cooked…all the way through?” He stifles a chuckle.

Niall bursts out laughing, cluing Briar in. She realizes the others ordered porterhouse steaks, so, out of habit, she asked how they’d like them prepared.

Her eyes go wide, “Right, well, I’ll go put these in. Thanks!” She shuffles away at lightning speed.

Harry stares at her from across the room, smirking when they make eye contact. She wants to bury her head in the sand trap on the golf course.

When the meal is done, the men shake hands, and Niall and Harry look relieved. They ask for another round of drinks for the two of them and the check. Niall heads toward the restroom while Harry pays. She tries to bolt as soon as the check is dropped, but she hears Harry clear his throat.

She turns to face him.

“We’re about to go play a quick round of 9-holes to celebrate. Are you our beer angel today, or are you stuck in here?” Harry says, as he opens his wallet.

Briar feels her heart begin to race. She’s sure her face is beet red. The word angel rolls off his tongue so easily.

“Um, no, I’m um, stuck in here for the rest of the day. I’ll be back on Sunday, though,” she says quietly.

“Shame, I was starting to think you were bringing me all of my luck. I’ve been crushing these guys in our last few rounds,” he smiles, swirling the remnants of his drink around.

She bites the inside of her lip, unsure if she should still be holding eye contact. He hands her the checkbook, full of cash. She smiles, unable to speak.

“Oh, and Briar— I’m an open book. If you wanted to know more about me, you could’ve just asked,” he says with a sickeningly sweet smile.

That’s the moment Niall returns to the table, and presumably the only reason she doesn’t drop to the floor in fetal position.

“Thanks, Briar. Lunch was great. We’ll see you next time,” Niall says sweetly.

“Thanks!” she squeaks, scurrying to the back, where she nearly mows down Cam.

“Woah! What’re you doing?” Cam squeals.

“He KNOWS!” Briar wails.

“Who? Who knows — OH!” Cam shrieks. “What did he say to you?”

“He said, ‘Briar, I’m an open book. If you wanted to know more about me, you could’ve just asked.’”

Cam’s mouth drops open. “Did he say it with his sexy accent and sultry voice?”

“Shut up!”

“Fine. Well, what did he tip you?” she asks, reaching for the book in Briar’s hand.

She opens it, finding enough cash to cover the $450 tab, and an extra $300 as a tip.

“Damn! Who has that much cash at one time?” Cam laughs.

Briar flips to the back of the book, only to find a note on a small piece of paper:

I’m an Aquarius, in case you were wondering. : - )

She stares blankly at the note. When did he have time to do this? Was he going to slip this note to her regardless? A million thoughts run through her head, until she hears Cam.

“What a creepy-ass old person smiley face,” she says, shaking her head.

Briar thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

~

Finally, her shift ends and she can escape the club, just for a day. As she heads towards the women’s locker room, she’s rummaging through her bag, attempting to fish out her street clothes so she can change as quickly as possible.

As she stalks closer to the locker room, she collides head-first into a firm, wet object. She feels strong hands grasp her hips to steady her.

“What the fuck?” she says, moving the hair out of her eyes, only to be met with a strong tattooed torso, partially covered by towel tied loosely around the person’s waist.

Her next words die in her throat as she looks up.

Harry.

Harry, who just left the steam room.

He smirks down at her, gently letting go of her waist. Suddenly, she feels hot, as if she were just in there with him. Briar’s fight or flight kicked-in, causing her to spin on her heels and flee in the opposite direction. 

He senses she’d run, so he gently grabs her wrist, locking her in place. She peers up at him like a deer in headlights. His other hand is firmly planted on his hip to hold up his towel, in fear of giving the whole club a show.

He tilts her chin up so she’s making direct eye contact. Her stomach drops, sending a wave of nausea through her body. She studies his face; long eye lashes, slight stubble and two dimples that form as he smirks down at her softly.

“I told you, I’m not shy.”

He releases her chin and saunters back to the mens’ locker room.

[ang3l-fac33]

Can I request Angel Dust and his fem BFF reader, who also works for Valentino, buying a bottle of fireball and watching random movies (Probably something like Jennifer's Body) while cuddling Fat Nuggets after they've both had a shitty day? Sweet Lucifer, I would kill to be his best friend!!

angel dust x BFF! fem! reader.

genre: oneshot

“you alright toots?” angel dust quirked a brow at you, watching you carefully as you sprawled out on his couch. he had a bottle of fireball in one hand and two shot glasses in the other. he poured the liquid into the glass as he waited for a response.

you groaned, which was muffled due to your arms covering your face. you’re bones ached from all the work today, and you could feel the signs of a terrible headache creeping up on you, making things worse.

when you didn’t respond with words angel dust’s eyes softened with sympathy. he knew that you had a rough day today, he did too. when working for valeninto there was going to be a lot of bad days. he knew that all too well.

but working for valentino was something the two of you bonded on, making what your friendship was today. of course it wasn’t all the two of you had together, but it played a big part in it. a lot of shit talking about val would be done, making the stressful days a little bit better. but he could see that today was not a ‘talk shit’ day, rather a relax and drink day.

“i’ve got your favorite right here for ya.” angel smirked, holding up the glass of fireball in his hand. you immediately lifted your head, your tired eyes looking interested, making angel dust laugh in amusement.

“of course alcohol would get your ass into gear.” he gave a sharp toothed grin, a mocking look in his eyes as he handed you the glass. it was all light hearted banter, the both of you knowing that anything rude you said wasn’t the truth.

you scoff and roll your eyes, snatching the glass from angel’s hand. “i need you to shut the hell up. you’re making my headache worse.” you grumbled, downing the liquid in one go.

angel dust snorted, not seeming all that offended. he poured you another drink before lightly shoving your legs. “whatever. just move your damn legs so i can sit down.”

you huffed but didn’t complain as you moved your legs, allowing some room for angel to sit, to which he immediately does so with a heavy sigh. there was a moment of silence before angel spoke again.

“..soo you want to watch that movie or nah?” he said with a small smile, his demeanor more relaxed now. you sighed and nodded, feeling yourself relax a bit at the feel of angel’s warmth next to you. he always somehow managed to make you feel better, and that was a reason why he was your best friend.

angel grinned and grabbed the remote, instantly turning on jennifer’s body. as the movie began to play angel downed his shot of fireball, smacking his lips in satisfaction afterwards.

as the movie started something butting against angel’s legs caught his attention, and he looked down to see the sight of fat nuggets. he was looking up at him with those adorable round eyes of his, something that always made angel’s heart melt.

“nuggs!” angel cooed, leaning down to take the pig into his arms. you raised your brows, snorting in amusement. “you and that damn pig of yours.. sometimes i think you like him more than me.”

“maybe i do.” angel responded with a smirk, cradling fat nuggets in his arms. “fat nuggets doesn’t talk back to me like you do.”

you roll your eyes, playing hurt. “i got second place by a pig. ouch.”

angel laughed before holding up fat nuggets to your face. “can you blame me? look how adorable he is!” fat nuggets made a small little oinking noise that made your heart swell with love for the little guy.

no matter how much you pretended to be annoyed by the little critter, you loved him. you gave him a small scratch on the cheek, to which the pig responded with a lick to your hand.

angel dust moved fat nuggets to rest comfortably between the two of you, and the demon pig laid down with a snort of satisfaction.

as the movie progressed you started to feel better and more relaxed. it was really times like this you were glad that angel dust was your best friend. who could ask for me?

(note: this was rushed at the end but i hope you liked it none the less! <3 also this isn’t proofread)

[theclairvoyage]

Centrifugation: Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Frazzled after your rough day at the center, you head out to your regular bar with the work crew, and see a familiar face there.

Warnings: brief mentions of violence, alcohol consumption, fluff, allusions to smut, kissing, groping, talks of divorce

WC: 4.3k

Friday, October 15th | 1730

After Joel left, the cops showed up shortly after and you gave your statement.  They assured you if Cedric returned, he would be arrested.  Trina permanently deferred him in the system, preventing him from checking in.  You felt some relief at that but were concerned about him waiting for you in the parking lot after your shift.  Keri offers to walk you to your car after you both clock out.

“Love, today was rough… so fucking glad it’s Friday.  Want to grab a drink?”  she asks.  You nod fervently, the idea of a cold beer immediately resurrecting you from the depths of this terrible day.

“McKinney’s?” you offer. 

She smiles brightly and nods in agreement. “I’ll come get you.  Just text me when you’re ready.”

McKinney’s is a local Irish dive bar, and the plasma center staff are regulars.  The bartenders are awesome, drinks are dirt cheap, and horrific karaoke is every Friday.

Once you get to your apartment, you take a hot, hot shower, rubbing off the stress and sweat from the day.  You think about Joel’s soft touch and how comforting he was.  You also think about the way he looked at you, causing arousal to pool in your lower belly.  No time to feen over a stranger, you think, washing the premature fantasy out of your mind.

You do a quick towel dry and style your hair, throw on some low-rise jeans that hug your ass, and a skintight black shirt that’s not quite cropped, not quite full-length.  You put on bare-minimum makeup, spray on some of your favorite musky perfume, step into some sandals, and give yourself a quick mirror check.  Your hipbones are peeking out between the bottom of your shirt and the top of your jeans.  The black shirt dips down low enough to show your collarbones and part of your shoulders.  You’re glowing, which is surprising, given the shitty day you had.  You’re not dressed overtly sexy, but you know how the men at the dive bar will react to a little skin and curves.  Fuck it.  Nothing wrong with a little attention.  You grab your phone and text Keri that you’re ready.

Keri: Sounds good.  I’ll be there in 10.

You open the fridge and grab some small Fireball shooters for the drive.  Not long thereafter, you hear Keri’s honk outside the building.  Keri prefers to drive when you two have outings, which you don’t mind at all.  She’s got a nice house in the Benson area, not too far from work or from your apartment.  She’s divorced and about 10 years your senior.  The two of you have always clicked, and you enjoy spending time with her in and outside of work.

You: Bet. Shooters engaged.

You trot to her car, holding up the shooters and grinning once she’s in view.  She grimaces.  You hop in and crack the shooters open, clink yours against hers and take the shot, the spicy cinnamon liquor trickling down your throat, burning as it travels down the ridges. 

“Ready to get your drank on, bitch?” Keri coughs, and you both cackle.

Shortly thereafter, you arrive at McKinney’s.  The parking lot is jam-packed, meaning you’ll probably have a smorgasbord of awful karaoke singers lining up.  You walk in and take your usual spots at the bar, facing the karaoke stage.  One of your favorite bartenders, Jessica, greets you and Keri.  “Hey, ladies.  Heard there was a ruckus at the plasma center today,” she says, motioning over at Blake and some other employees at one of the tables by the stage, who wave at you both.  You both laugh and wave back.  “Jess, it was fucking nuts.  This one here about got hep C.  Cops got called and everything,” Keri says.

“Jesus… well, the first round’s on me.  Sorry you had to deal with that,” Jess says, bringing over a pitcher of Busch Light.  Not your favorite, but when pitchers are $5, it’s hard to pass up.  Keri pours you both a glass and you clink them together before taking a big swig.

You both join the table with the rest of the employees, putting some tables together and chatting.  You get up to go to the bathroom.  On your way back, you stop by the bar and ask Jess for a couple more pitchers.  She obliges, and you wait at the bar while she fills them up.

“Hey, darlin’.  Can’t imagine why you’d be here on a night like this,” a deep Southern drawl croons in your ear, coating your name in velvet.  You freeze and look behind you to see Joel.  He’s swapped his red flannel for a blue one that hugs his biceps and traps, along with some black jeans and boots.  His hair is slicked back, showing off gray stripes that wrap the front and sides of his face.  What enraptures you most, however, is his scent that you somehow failed to notice earlier today.  He smells of sandalwood and bourbon, spicy and musky at the same time.  You figure it’s probably time to respond to him when you see him smirk and raise his eyebrows at you.

“Hi, Joel!  What are you doing here?”  You say, attempting to stop drooling over him.  Luckily for you, though, he’s making no attempt to stop staring at you.  He takes you in, looking at you from head to toe with that strange look in his eyes you’ve seen for the third time today.  Your stomach does a few back handsprings.  Those low riders that hug your ass were a great idea.

“Keri told me today this is where the cool people in Omaha hang out at, so it’s only natural that I stop by,” he says, grinning at you.  You giggle and lightly smack his arm, the liquid courage giving you balls you thought you never had.  Now it makes sense why Keri suggested you go here this evening.

“Are you doin’ better, sweetheart?  Know today was rough for ya,” he asks, his gaze on you now tender.  Warmth washes over you and you smile at him, putting a hand on his chest.  Joel feels a soft burn where your hand lies and worries you can feel his heart palpitate underneath your fingertips.

“Yes, much better.  I wanted to say thank you for being there for me.  It meant a lot to me,” you say, watching his cheeks curl into a soft smile and a blush creeping up his neck.  Still feeling ballsy, you ask if he wants to sit at the bar or join the group.

“Doesn’t matter to me, darlin’.  You lead the way,” he hums.  You decide you want to spend some alone time with Joel for a bit before returning to the group.  “Sit here,” you say, gesturing to two stools at the bar.  “I’ll drop these pitchers off and come back.”  He nods and half-sits on one of the stools.  You hoist the pitchers and walk over to the table, making sure to swing your hips just in case he’s watching.

Keri grins at you.  You give her a smirk.  “I see what you did there, Ker,” you giggle.  She shrugs, taking a sip of beer.  “Not sure what you’re talking about, girl!”  Uh huh.  You roll your eyes as you drop the pitchers off and return to the bar.

Joel watches you walk back, that half-smile plastered on his face and his eyes flashing black as they travel up and down your body.  You hop up on the bar stool and give him a quizzical look.  “What are you staring at, cowboy?”

“The prettiest woman I’ve seen since I’ve been in Omaha… maybe even ever,” he says in a low voice, getting closer to your ear.  The small hairs on your ear prick up, like his voice is their magnet.  You feel tingles travel down your neck and spine, landing at your core, and clamp your legs together.  Fuuuuck.  He continues, “I feel like I’ve known you a long time… I feel crazy sayin’ that knowin’ damn well we just met today.”

“I feel the same way,” you say, “It really hit me today when we were at the picnic table.”  He nods in agreement.  You stare at each other, and time stops for a moment.  The bar is buzzing, but all you can see and hear is Joel, and he you.  Hopefully this isn’t just the booze and a bad day.

The karaoke host gets on the mic and taps it a few times to let the patrons know karaoke is starting soon.  People travel up to him to put their names in the queue, including some people from your work group.

Joel puts an arm around your shoulders, lightly rubbing the skin on your arm.  “You want somethin’ else to drink?” You turn to him and nod, noticing he’s got a glass of what appears to be whiskey.  He calls Jess over and you order a Dos Equis Ambar.

“Beer girl, huh?” he chuckles.

“Love my beer.  I’ll drink just about anything, though… except whiskey,” you scrunch your nose at his drink, and he laughs.

“It’s not that bad.  Tough thing like you could down it, easily,” he jokes, squeezing your shoulder playfully.  “Here, take a sip and see what ya think.”  You pick up the glass and look down at it, grimacing from the smell.

“So… how do I do this? The expert way of course,” You ask.  One side of his mouth curls up in a smirk.

“Take a smaller sip and swish it ‘round your mouth to get the flavors.  I warn ya, it’s gonna burn a lil’ bit,” he cautions.  You do as he says, trying not to make a face at the sting on your tongue and cheeks.  You taste nothing but pure, smoky alcohol.  He guffaws.

“That’s gotta be straight ethanol with some food dye,” you grimace, smacking your lips a few times and wash the whiskey down with a sip of your beer.  “My tongue is on fire!”

“Told ya.  Just gotta get used t’it,” he says, taking a sip and swishing it around like a champ.

As karaoke starts, you both fall in a comfortable rhythm of conversing and getting to know each other.  You talk about growing up here in Omaha, going to Lincoln, Nebraska for college, and coming back to be close to your family.  Joel talks about growing up in Austin, Texas, and his successful contracting business he runs with his brother, Tommy.  He tells you about his 18-year-old daughter, Sarah, who’s in college in Lincoln, Nebraska at your alma mater, hence the move to Omaha.  He divorced shortly after she was born and has been virtually single since.

“What about you?  Smart, beautiful girl like you gotta be single because she wants to be, not ‘cause she’s short on options,” Joel says, the arm that was around your shoulders earlier traversing across your back, now resting on your opposite thigh.  You look at him wistfully.

“Something like that.  It’s kinda hard for me to connect with people in that way.  I’m… exclusive with my time and energy, I guess.  I just value my alone time and time with my friends,” You say honestly, hoping that doesn’t throw him off.  You really haven’t had a lot of serious relationships and have always preferred being by yourself.  Sure, you had a lot of flings in college, but nobody you wanted to take the next step with.

“I understand.  Seems like a good way to live, if ya ask me.  Can’t be givin’ everybody your time.  I learned that the hard way,” he says, looking away from you, his big, brown eyes shaded in amber melancholy.

“What happened?  If you don’t mind me asking,” you ask, putting your hand on his leg and squeezing lightly.  He reciprocates.

“We had Sarah so young, marriage just seemed like the right thing to do next.  Turns out neither of us was ready nor mature enough for that.  She wanted to go out and be with other men, and I just wanted to raise my daughter and try and make a livin’,” he says, a sad smile playing on his lips.  “Everythin’ happened for a reason, though, can’t say I regret any of it.”  You look him in the eyes and give him a sympathetic smile.  The way he looks at you is so soft, so tender.  Your heart jumps up and down.

“I bet you’re a great dad, I’m sure Sarah appreciates everything you do,” you say, giving him another squeeze.  He turns to look at you, eyes blazing with fondness.

“If you’re interested, I’d like you to meet her.  She’ll be coming up on weekends here and there during school since it’s only an hour away from here.  Oh, and I’d love for you to meet my brother, Tommy.  We expanded the business to some parts of the Midwest, so he and his wife moved up here, too.”

“Wow, that’s great… you guys must’ve made all the right business moves.  I’d love to meet them,” you say, impressed by him.  He snorts.

“Wasn’t always like that.  Our pops helped us out a lot early on… two reckless twenty-something men starting a contracting business with no damn idea how to do it.  We knew how to do the work, but managin’ it is a whole different ballgame.  Plus, I was a single dad not long after we started.  Lotta late nights and caffeine.  We did alright, though.  Got offices in Austin and Dallas, Kansas City, and now Omaha.”  He says, running fingers through his silvery hair.  You feel yourself grinning at him.

This can’t be real, you think.  I just met this man today and already feel so connected to him.  Your face must match your deep thinking, because he asks you if everything is alright.

“Yes, absolutely,” you say, because it is.  His eyes flicker over your face with quiet adoration.  You admire his beard and how his mustache is dark brown, but the hairs littered on his chin and jaw are almost all-white.  You swear you see him lean in ever so slightly and turn nervously to take a sip of your beer.

Karaoke stops for the night, and the jukebox starts playing Eric Claptons’ Wonderful Tonight.  Joel stands from the stool and holds his hand out.  “Wanna dance, pretty girl?”

You blush and take his big, warm hand.  “Of course.”

He leads you out to the dance floor, where most patrons have gathered to sway to the music with someone.  He holds your right hand with his left and pulls you close to him with his right, wrapping his arm around your waist.  You lie your head on his shoulder and let yourself melt into him, wrapping your free arm around his upper back and taking in his scent.  He feels so safe, so strong, so firm.  You could stand here with him forever.

“You know, every man in here wants you, darlin’,” he whispers in your ear.  He feels your smirk on his shoulder.

“Every man?” You ask, taking your head off his shoulder to look him in the eyes.  He knows exactly what you’re asking.  You’re taken aback at how much desire his eyes hold, looking at you like you really are the prettiest woman he’s ever seen.

“Every man,” he whispers.  You’re not sure when he got so close, but you can feel his warm, whiskey-coated breath on your face and your heart starts thumping quickly in your chest.

“I don’t wanna overstep, but I really wanna kiss you,” he says, his eyes traveling from your eyes to your lips and back.  Your heart feels like it’s running hurdles over your ribs, down to the pit of your stomach.

“Please do,” you whisper back, licking your lips.

Time seems to pause indefinitely when he leans in and presses his lips to yours.  His lips are smooth, a lovely contrast from the coarse hair on his beard tickling your skin.  He tastes like whiskey and coffee, and he thinks you taste like beer and heaven.  The kiss is slow and gentle at first, like he’s asking for permission.  You deepen the kiss, lightly nibbling his lower lip and reaching up to tug on his curls.  He groans at that, making your core ignite.  He licks into your mouth and your tongues dance along with the music.  Both of his arms are now wrapped around you, his big hands lightly pulling up the hem of your shirt to feel warm skin near the waistband of your jeans.  He moves his hands up further under your shirt, learning the planes of your back and delighting in the softness of your skin.  The heat of his hands and your growing desire is almost too much, and you have an urging need to cool off before you explode into oblivion.  You both pull away after who knows how long and look each other in the eyes, four pupils jam-packed with lust.

“Wanna step outside?  It’s a little… hot,” you say, still pressed closely to him, and he chuckles while nodding.  He takes your hand and leads you to the outdoor patio, where some torches are lit and the music from inside is playing faintly.  The fall air whistles as it swoops over you, giving you goosebumps.  It’s dimly lit out here, but bright enough that you can see each other in the torch light, the flames dancing playfully over each of your faces.

“Can’t say I’ve ever felt so good from a kiss, darlin’,” Joel says, pulling you into him.  You smash your lips against his like you never stopped.  One of his hands travels to the back of your head, fingers lightly massaging your scalp; the other hand smoothing down your back until he reaches your ass.  A low growl emits from his chest, and you let out a faint moan as he squeezes.  Your hands both find home in his slicked, curly hair, tugging a bit and earning you another growl from Joel.  You know you’re soaked right now, and you can feel his hardening length poking into your lower stomach.

Normally, you would pull back and distance yourself from someone you’ve only known for less than a day, but something about this man has you seeing stars, clouds, and other celestial bodies.  Nothing has ever felt so natural or in sync for you.  He must think so, too, as he breaks the kiss to nip down your jaw and neck, soothing the little bites with his tongue afterwards.  You moan and feel him grip you tighter in response.

“God, ‘m never gonna forget that beautiful sound,” he hums into your neck, sending you reeling.  He licks over to the other side of your neck and kisses his way back up your jaw, back to your ear, where he pulls at the lobe gently with his teeth and sucks it back into his mouth.  You suck in a sharp breath and giggle, knowing that you’ve just given away two of your favorite spots to him.  He chuckles and continues kissing your neck, jaw, collarbone, and ears, simultaneously scratching your smooth skin with his facial hair.  Your skin tastes like vanilla and tangerine, and he marvels at how soft you are and relishes in the sounds he’s pulling from your lips.  “Fuck, Joel,” you whine, “that feels so good.”

“You taste so good, baby,” he says and returns his mouth to yours, hands roaming all over your body but careful to not overstep boundaries.  Your hands do the same, but you both make sure you’re still pressed up as close to each other as possible.  You can feel his rock-hard cock ready to burst through the fabric of his jeans and your wetness pooling in your underwear, threatening to trickle down your thighs.

He pulls away briefly and groans, a look of near-despair clouding his amber eyes.  “I want you so fuckin’ bad, but I wanna do this right.”  You nod in agreement.  Snapshots of Joel taking your clothes off and running his hands and tongue all over your body are racing through your mind, but you know he’s right.  He’s got the same visions of you in his mind and wants nothing more than to make you feel good – physically and emotionally.

“Not like we need to rush anything,” you say, looking up at him.  His smile is so saccharine, and he leans in to kiss you softly on the lips.

“Got nothin’ but time, sweetheart.”  He holds you in his arms for a moment, and the door leading to the patio swings open with a squeak.  Loud music and warbled voices invade your space momentarily before the door shuts.  You look up and see Keri grinning ear to ear.

“See?  I told you you wouldn’t regret coming here, Joel,” she says, pursing her lips at the two of you as she brings her beer up for a sip.  You stick your tongue out and she giggles, turning to go back inside.

Your gurgling stomach makes its entrance, interrupting your sweet moment with Joel.  He chuckles, “Sweetheart, do you wanna go get something to eat?  It’s gettin’ late, and I know you had a long day,” he says, his hands crossing up your back and coming to land on your shoulders.  You hadn’t noticed until now that your stomach felt tense, like you had a hole in it that food needed to fill.  “Probably a good idea… I must’ve forgotten to eat after I left the center today,” you say, rubbing your stomach lightly.  You check your watch.  12:53 am.  Not too late, but the events of the day are starting to drag your body down into the depths of fatigue.  He cups your jaw with both hands and places a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

“Let’s go, then, and I’ll take you home.  Where d’ya wanna go?”  He asks, eyes shifting between yours.  You think of all the places that would be open right now, deciding that something quick and greasy is probably the only option.  You shrug.

“You’re the local, you be the guide,” he says, releasing you from his embrace and taking your hand.  He leads you inside and stops at your work table so you can say goodbye.  You wave at everyone and give Keri a quick hug.  “You let me know when you get home, alright hon’?”  She says, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.  “Yes ma’am, you got it,” you say, hugging her tightly.

You two leave hand in hand and walk to Joel’s black pickup, which looks very expensive and very new.  You attempt to open the passenger door and he stops you.  You raise an eyebrow and give him a confused look.  “Sweetheart, I’m a Southern gentleman,” he trills, opening the door for you and ushering you in with a hand on your lower back.  You smirk and feel the liquid courage bubbling up again.  “Oh yeah?  In more ways than one?”  His eyes flash with desire, moving up and down your frame as you get comfortable in the passenger seat.

“Don’t get me started on all the ways,” he says, voice deep and eyes fixated on yours.  You feel your neck and cheeks heat.  This is gonna be tough.  Joel shuts your door and trots over to the driver’s side.  He pulls out of the parking lot, his free hand reaching over the center console to lace his fingers with yours.  “Decide what you want?”

“I’m thinking classic McDonald’s… I’m a cheap date,” you say, squeezing his hand.  He laughs.

“We’ll see how long that lasts, darlin’… I gotta take you out for a real date soon,” he grins.  Your stomach flips at the thought of going on a real date with Joel.

After you go through the McDonald’s drive through, Joel heads to your place to drop you off.  He approaches the entrance to your building and puts the truck in park.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask.  He gives you a look, almost pained.  “Sure, darlin’.  No funny business, I promise,” he responds.  You tilt your head at him, amused.  “Not sure if we have the same definition of that phrase, but you’re about to find out,” you say, smirking.  He scoffs and moves the truck to a parking spot.

You enter the building and head to your door at the end of the first floor.  Hopefully it’s clean, you think.  You can’t remember the last time a man came over.  You pop in your code and open the door, Joel holding the door beside you.  You set your purse and keys on the kitchen counter and watch Joel’s eyes examine the place.  He looks at the pictures of you and your friends and family hung on the walls.

“Clearly, you’ve always been gorgeous,” he says, pointing to a picture from your 8th grade graduation.  Braces and all.  You smack his arm playfully.  “Shut it.  We can’t all be sexy-cowboy-chico-suave like you,” you gripe, making him burst out laughing.  “Never heard that one before darlin’, but sexy doesn’t cover you,” he says, eyes traveling up and down your frame.  He takes two big steps toward you.  “So, what’s your definition of funny business?” he asks, finger tipping your chin up to look at him.  You smirk and lead him to the couch, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on.

“You’re really gonna regret coming over here,” you giggle, pulling up Hulu.  You scroll down to continue watching The Golden Girls.  Joel groans playfully.  “Yeah… we definitely have different definitions of that word,” he says, putting his arm around you and kicking his feet up as you snuggle into him.

taglist: @burntheedges <3

[moramaisis]

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Arsenia (tav) M/F Status: Villain couple, vampire bride tav. Both are happy together and go on slaughter date nights. Summary: Evil vampire couple stays at lady Melidrient's estate and returns to Crow's Call at night to get their bags. They meet their fresh spawn and antagonize him, forcing him to admit his flaws, and give him rules. Astarion summons their first spawn to ask for help with their little criminally-inclined stalker. Things get a little heated, flesh meets flesh and unwanted surfaces get wet. Obreon talks about his family.

Their stalker keeps pestering them, someone has a really shitty day and Obreon is embracing his kinks. The couple goes hunting. The hunting season is open. Warnings and tags: Warnings: Humiliation, heavy smut, corporal punishment, countless mentions of fluids, a lot of licking things, really horny vampires (major horniness warning here!), oral sex, anal stimulation, voyeurism, dark humor, villains, evil vamp couple (seriously, you've been warned), groping, teasing, group sex, dirty talking, praise kink (kinda), dommy vampire bride. Also, murder, gore, dark themes, wannabe detective stuff. Also, it's long! This is the 4th chapter on ao3. Linked here And it's a part of a series. Check series description for details.

We woke up late in the day, maybe around five or six o'clock. The fire had died out so the room was quite chilly. I ignited it with a fireball and passed our guest a lovely heavy robe, as well as some thick slippers lined with wool. I went downstairs, lit the stove and made a meal for our guest, then carried a silver tray with fresh coffee and hot sandwiches to our bedroom. Oneressa's eyes lit up as soon as she smelled the hot drink and even more so when i entered through the bedroom door.

„Serviced by the lady of the house herself! Oh, sweet gods of old!“

I laid the tray on the bed and watched her dive into her meal. I didn't need any sustenance thanks to Oneressa's generous gift this early morning, but i had still made myself a cup of coffee. I also made one for Astarion, as he started liking the drink. I added some vanilla extract to our cups, as well as some other spices, for some exceptional taste.

„You make the finest coffee,“ Oneressa smiled at me. „I'm going to need the recipe. Some days i get such a craving for it, but it never tastes quite the same when my servants make it for me.“

Astarion pulled on his satin robe and excused himself, leaving us with coffee in his hand. I had a clue where he was going, probably to check his freshly dug grave, so i engaged Oneressa with a conversation. I told her my coffee recipe and she promised to keep it between us. Although it was too early for the spawn to awaken, Astarion had a theory that the process might have sped up due to our ascension. I excused myself and went looking for him, leaving Oneressa to eat her late breakfast in peace.

I didn't know where he had buried the hunter, but finding him shouldn't be too difficult. I slipped a long hooded cape on top of my nightgown and ran barefoot into the snow. After encircling the yard i finally noticed Astarion, he was standing in the far corner of the yard, under some ancient twisty snowcapped trees. His rich burgundy robe stood out against the overwhelming white. He stood at a large mound that was only lightly coated by a sprinkle of snow, a cup of coffee in his hand, eyes on the dirt. He didn't notice me creeping up to him and sipped from his cup. I stopped beside him and observed the lonely grave.

„Is he done?“

„I can't hear anything. Guess i'll have to return later today.“

„I want to be there when he wakes up. It's going to be great fun.“ I drank from my cup.

„I was hoping you'd want to supervise. He will likely have a panic attack once he digs himself out of the grave.“ Astarion sipped his coffee.

„I'll smack some sense into him,“ i grinned.

„Mmm, don't hold back, dear, i like it when you get your hands dirty.“ He purred.

„Oh, i'll be especially handsy just for you.“

We exchanged a passionate stare and clinked our mugs together. We returned to our bedroom to find Oneressa done with her breakfast and brushing her teeth in the bathroom. She probably had a collection of toiletries hidden in a cupboard somewhere. I stepped out of my nightgown, slipped into a clean shift and asked Astarion to help me get my corset on. His nimble fingers tightened the lacing quickly and i pulled my breasts up inside the shift. He helped me get into my gown and fasten the bodice. I chose a beautiful dark purple dress with black snake skin panels.

Oneressa walked in and sat on the bed, watching us lovingly.

„Are you ready to return home?“ I asked.

„More than ready! Can't wait to be back. This castle is lovely, but too forlorn and eerie for my taste. Will someone help me with my corset?“ She asked playfully.

„Of course,“ i answered.

„She's eager, isn't she.“ Astarion laughed.

I turned around and spanked him perkily on his rear, which made his grin wider. Oneressa's clothes were already in the bedroom, stacked neatly on the dresser. She got up and started taking my nightgown off, but i hurried to stop her.

„You can keep it on.“ It was clean compared to her undergarments, which were soaked with blood and sweat. She smiled warmly and reached for her corset, pulling it over her head. I took the lacing and proceeded tightening them one after one. Oneressa shifted her breasts up as the corset clung to her body, positioning them as she liked.

„Perhaps you would like to borrow more of my clothes? They might be too big for you, but we can make it work.“

„I appreciate the offer but my hunting clothes are good enough. I don't want to awake any suspicion.“

„Fair enough.“

„I do love the idea of you dressing me up as a doll.“ She flirted as i tied the laces into a bow. „How will we travel, though? I don't want to fly again.“

„I can think of one alternative solution,“ Astarion said while looking at me intently. I was pretty sure i knew what he was thinking about.

Once we were all ready and treading the snowy castle yard, i held a hand next to my mouth and emitted a piercing howl. A pack of wolves replied from the nearby woods. Oneressa sent me a worried stare.

„Don't tell me that we're going to use…“ She was cut off as a pack of wolves ran out of the shadowy forest, dashing through our open gates. They ran straight to us, rubbing their heads against our coats and sniffing us curiously.

„So, you have power over them too?“ Oneressa asked and a few wolves trotted over to smell her. She froze and let the giant beasts inspect her.

„Mhm,“ i smiled. „I think i saw a sleigh in the stables. Lets tie a few of these beauties to it.“

I stormed off to the stables, without waiting for a reply, and dragged the sleigh outside. Oneressa didn't even bat an eyelash this time. She helped me find the straps, reins and anything else we might need, not to mention strap the creatures in. We ended up using four wolves and our ride to the town was pretty effortless. The pack ran after us for a while, but disappeared into the woods halfway when a deer crossed the road. I was the one holding the reins, directing the beasts with clicks and whistles.

Not many paid us attention as we drove through the city. It was a blessing that many species of animals were used for travel purposes. We drove up to Oneressa's estate and she got off the sleigh to talk to the guard through a tiny window in the door. The gates were opened swiftly and we drove inside. A few servants rushed to greet their mistress, sounding rather worried. Her bird and stag had returned in the early hours without her, so a small search party had been sent out. Oneressa calmed everyone down and told them that she had been chased by a bear, but was lucky to reach Crow's Call and got the help she needed. I was impressed by her quick thinking and the ease that she came up with stories. They flew off her tongue so naturally. She ordered her servants to prepare the left wing for her guests.

„Could you spare us some meat? These beauties have earned a treat after all this hard work.“ I asked and she demanded a servant to bring us four large pig pieces. These were delivered quickly and i began to untie our wolves, with the generous help from Astarion. After the animals were free, and each had chosen a piece of meat, i asked the gate to be opened. Oneressa approved with a nod and i sent the wolves off. Each beast ran out with meat between its teeth. A guard was staring at me and i simply snickered back.

„They'll run right home. Don't you worry.“

Oneressa took us in her home and we waited in a lovely room, as the servants were running around in the hallways, carrying bedding and cleaning supplies. Oneressa ordered tea and we enjoyed it with biscuits and other fancy treats.

„Do you need help getting your chests from Crow's Call?“ She asked casually, as if the events that had nearly cost her life were already behind her.

„No thank you, we'll organize it privately.“ Astarion replied.

„Well enough. Once the wing is ready i'll let you settle in. I have to deal with some housekeeping today, but i hope we can have breakfast tomorrow? Or lunch?“

„Sounds delightful, we would hate to miss it.“ Astarion said.

We chatted about random things when a servant girl knocked and said the wing was ready. All three of us stood up.

„Good night, my dears,“ Oneressa said with the warmest smile and gave each of us a kiss on the cheek. „Rest well.“

The servant girl guided us to our wing and the first thing that we saw was a giant pair of doors adorned with elegant patterns. We walked through them and ended up in a large room with an absolutely enormous fireplace, multiple rugs and dark blue furniture. Tables and other wood pieces of interior were decorated with carvings. Two doors opened at the back and the servant beckoned us to follow her.

„Here, please.“

She opened the one of the right and it revealed a large bedroom.

„This is your lordship and ladyship's bedroom. The second door leads to a hallway and goes deeper into the castle. There you shall find the bathroom. Lady Melidrient said you're free to roam. If you need something, then ring the bell.“ She pointed to a long red cord that hung down from the wall in the living-room. She curtsied and left.

We flew out at night and arrived at Crow's Call, as the moon was peeking its giant unblinking eye from between the clouds. They were moving quickly, storming across the sphere of the sky like hounds. We landed in the garden and shifted back, then started making our way to the lonely grave. Something felt different, which made us slow our feet and creep around the grey castle wall.

The grave was restless, the soil around it appeared disturbed. A pair of hands reached out from the dirt fumbling around blindly. I looked at Astarion with burning anticipation and he smiled darkly, eyes glowing red in the darkness. It was just as exciting for him, nothing compared to the feeling of a new spawn rising from the dead. You had no idea what to expect and so you trembled from giddiness. As vampires we had an ability to sense our spawn, the string of connection felt so familiar, so primal, we had a built-in need to see our kin, even if we denied this as vampires. The spawn's first reaction was almost always negative, so it filled us with adrenaline, we had to tame our unholy offspring and make them see us as gods, that we were.

We prowled the shadows and froze at the foot of the grave. Adriel's arms were scraping the dirt in desperation, then his clawed fingers clasped the mound and he hoisted himself out. His long brown hair was caked with mud and framing his terrified face like a mass of overgrown vines. His once hazel eyes were now deep red, his tasty lips dry and cracked. Adriel failed to notice us and raked the snow-mixed earth to pull his hips out of the ground. He paused to catch his breath and it was then when he finally spotted us. His head moved up to meet our gaze.

My heart was loud, i didn't know what he'd do. I expected him to yell or call us something horrible, but he just stared at us. His big eyes appeared so fearful and full of pain, it was almost heartbreaking to behold.

„Good evening,“ Astarion spoke in his usual smug velvety tone. He wasn't even trying to hide his schadenfreude. „Did you enjoy your little excavation? I forgot to mention that the process of becoming can be…uncomfortable. Then again, you were in no mood to listen.“

The line of Adriel's mouth tightened, a part of his spirit seemed to return to him, but he didn't reply. His fingers clasped the dirt.

„You'll answer to your master, spawn.“ I said sternly. „Say it! Did it hurt?“

Adriel's eyes shifted to me and i started noticing sparks of hate dancing on his irises.

My foot came down on his hand, crushing it under my heel. Adriel grimaced from pain.

„Did you suffer, spawn?“ I demanded loudly.

„Yes. It fucking hurt.“ The vampire hunter hissed.

„As it should. Now listen, you will treat your master with respect, speak when spoken to and won't talk back. Otherwise the time spent in our dungeon will look like a vacation. Understood?“ I glared at Adriel and he stared back at me hatefully. I pushed the heel of by boot deeper into his hand. Adriel's face contorted and his mouth gaped in a silent groan of agony.

„You'll address Astarion as master and you'll call me mistress. Now, refer to him as such!“ I dug my heel even deeper into his flesh. Adriel writhed on the ground emitting a hoarse groan. He forced himself to look up at Astarion and said through gritted teeth, „master.“

„Very good!“ I praised him, removing my foot. „Now lets get you out of that filth.“ I smacked my hand to his back and picked him up by the scruff. His shirt ripped at the seams, but held on. I pulled him out of the ground and dropped him into the snow. He landed on his knees. Adriel pushed his injured hand to his chest and tried to get up, but i kicked him in the shoulder and he fell back down.

„Hold your horses, spawn.“ I growled evilly.

„You have to learn the rules,“ Astarion said, „and they're going to be specially tailored just for you. I can compel you to do anything i want. You won't be able to resist even if you try. Such is the fate of all spawn, but you're yet to learn just how much of a burden it truly is. You shall never forget your rules. You won't speak to anybody ever again and you will not leave this castle unless told to. You shall guard it with your life and capture anyone who tries to break in.“

Astarion turned to me. „Do you wish to add anything, my dear?“

Damn well i wanted to!

„You're allowed to eat only that which lives in the castle, especially in the cellars. You shall sleep on the floor and keep the castle clean at all times and you are forbidden to enter our bedroom.“

Astarion's smile grew wider.

„Well said, my love. You shall follow them diligently and you shall come whenever called, spawn.“ He added proudly as he raised his chin with regal elegance.

Adriel's mouth was twitching, his eyes glowing red and brimming with rage. He tried to speak but no sound came out. The hunter gasped and clutched his throat in panic, meanwhile his lips were trying to form words, yet stammered at the first vowel. He had lost all control over his mouth and voice box.

I looked at Astarion.

„Let him speak this one time or his head might explode.“

„As you wish.“ He nodded and a nasty wet growl sputtered from Adriel's throat. He inhaled sharply and glared at us with disgust.

„So this is why you turned me? So i could be your maid? A voiceless heap of flesh you can torture? What is it that you monsters want from me?! You have taken everything from me and yet you want more! More! Why are you doing this to me?! Why?!“

He had yelled out his thoughts in a slurry of words, each louder than the next. Then he sat there, breathing fast, invigorated by hatred.

I held a pause and blinked slowly to Astarion, letting him know that i was going to handle this.

„I want your apology.“ I said coldly.

Adriel stared at me with confusion.

„What?!“

„You spoke to me very rudely the day we first met. You have a great amount of prejudice and hatred towards tieflings and other non-human creatures. Now you're one of us and i want you to apologize.“

Adriel glared at me as if he was at a loss for words. I could see the wheels in his head turning, struggling to process my request.

„I was a monster hunter,“ he stated boldly.

„And is that supposed to be a justification? I wanted an apology, not an excuse.“

„I killed monsters that killed people.“ He stated again.

„Tieflings don't kill people.“

„But you're part devil and born of sin and greed. Your appearance alone is enough to scare children.“

Astarion beside me was emitting waves of anger, ready to lash out, but i stopped him.

„I'm not responsible for what my ancestors did. Are you responsible for the sins of your father?“ I asked stoically.

Adriel stared at me, but struggled to answer, his thoughts were scrambling to find the right words.

„Are you responsible for the sins of your father, spawn?“

„No,“ he uttered with defeat. „But look at you now! You're a vampire! Don't you see that your kind has an inclination towards evil? You crave violence as much as you crave blood!“

„My parents birthed me in the woods because they were driven out of their villages. They had skills, talents and aspirations that they never got the chance to fulfill. They raised me in the womb of nature, who was the only being that didn't reject them. Nature was also their doom, as they were killed by a giant beast. I wandered the woods until i tried my luck in the city. Little did i know there was no luck in store for me there. People feared me, chased me, thugs followed me in alleyways. I tried many jobs but not one lasted for long. I went back to doing the one thing i was good at – hunting and killing. And, oh, how people loved me then.“

Adriel listened in silence, his face tense and contemplative.

„Apologize to your mistress.“ Astarion demanded. „People like you wanted to see her as a monster and when she played the role, you chastised her for it. Apologize or i will rip out your tongue.“

Adriel pulled his head between his shoulders and turned to me.

„I'm sorry for what i said.“

„Now say that you're sorry for killing vampire spawn,“ i said.

Adriel looked baffled.

„But why?“

„Because they were compelled, as you are now. I need you to understand that they were not free to act upon their own will.“

Adriel furrowed his brow and didn't reply for a while.

„I'm sorry for killing them.“ He said finally. His words didn't seem too sincere to me, but he had time to think about it. An endless amount of time.

„You'll understand once the hunger becomes unbearable.“ Astarion said with dark glee. „You'll chew off your own hands just to get some relief.“

„And when hunger starts burning your insides, i recommend starting with the rats. Might as well make yourself useful.“

Astarion shook his head in proud disbelief. It was an inside joke he appreciated, evil – yet somehow still more merciful than what was happening in Cazador's lair.

„Lets go inside, i'm tired of standing in the cold.“ I said to Astarion, then turned around and barked at Adriel, „You're coming with us, don't stray anywhere!“ Adriel winced, but scrambled to his feet without complaint. We turned our backs to him and started walking around the castle.

„It's nice to be back home. Oneressa's estate is gorgeous but this place has so much personality. Leaving it behind saddens me.“

„I see what you mean,“ Astarion replied. „It feels like a place where time stands still. Coming here is like meeting an old friend. A friend with chronic depression.“

I giggled meanwhile trying to keep quiet, so that our freshly hatched spawn wouldn't hear us.

„Do you think we should notify Obreon that we're staying over at Oneressa's place? He could help us with finding Cornelis? I bet he has access to records, as well as, contacts that could be useful.“

„Consider it done. I'll compel him to come.“ Astarion's eyes unfocused while staring into the distance, his irises glimmered a bright red.

„I hope it doesn't take him all night,“ i sighed. The snow was crunching under our feet and a distant howl of wolves joined us, their song bouncing off mountains and trees. I turned back to Adriel.

„You're not allowed to touch the wolves. They might come to the yard if the gate remains open. You can feed them our enemies, however. There is meat in the ice box, if you want to befriend them in an hour of loneliness.“

Adriel glared at me with a concerned frown.

„Animal meat. You'll have to hunt the enemies yourself.“

We had circled the grey wall and were reaching the main door. I stopped abruptly in my tracks and Adriel almost ran into me. Astarion stopped slowly and turned to witness my shenanigans with open curiosity.

„Take off your clothes.“

Adriel stared at me defiantly.

„I don't want you tracking dirt into the castle. Take your clothes off. Now!“

The tone of my voice urged him to move. Adriel pulled his shirt over his head, dropped it to the ground, and then stared to clumsily undo the buttons on his pants. He hesitated for a second, whilst peeking at me with shame, but the ruthless stare of my eyes convinced him i was in no mood to play. He pulled down his pants, stepping out of them, then removed his socks and boots. Adriel stood with his head down, trying to cover his nudity, as his long, tangled, dirty hair covered his strong, defined chest. His chestnut hair was so long it reached down to his rear. I ran my eyes up and down his nude body, all considered he was still very handsome.

„Very good. Get yourself a bath and wash that muck out of your hair. Got it?“

He nodded obediently.

„Take your clothes with you and wash them. Don't fucking litter in the yard.“

Adriel hurried to collect his belongings, bunching them up against his chest.

We walked to the door, unlocked it and got inside. The castle greeted us with a comforting darkness and silence. I could smell fresh firewood, waxy scent of candles and old books.

„Follow me!“ I barked to Adriel and guided him to the bathroom on the first floor. I snagged a candlestick on the way and lit the flame using magic, placing it near the basin. „Clean yourself and hurry up, you don't have all night. It's your job to serve us when we're here.“

I left him to his chores and we retired in our bedroom with Astarion. I lit the fireplace and we took off our coats once it was warm enough. I felt Astarion's eyes on me and when i turned to look at him, he was inspecting me with a playful little smirk.

„What?“ I asked with a smile.

„You handled him so well. I would've ripped out his tongue and shoved it down his gullet. I can't believe the things he said to you! Can't expect more from a monster hunter, i suppose. At least we know that he was motivated by hate as much as money.“

„Thank you, my love. Do hold on to that need for vengeance, though, i would love to see you with his body part in your hand. I just needed him to understand our side of the story. Of course, i can't make him agree, especially now that he is forcefully turned and designated for eternal damnation. But i want him to suffer and i want him to know why he's suffering. For his moronic beliefs.“

Astarion walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist.

„Suffer he will, i can promise that. You were so terrifying, so domineering – a true queen of vampires – it was a pleasure to behold, darling.“ He purred meanwhile his hands were lazily stroking my waist. I could drown in his red eyes, so cold for others, yet so warm to me. His voice was sickly sweet, spiced with a fragrant note of lust.

„Really? Oh, i have more horrors up my sleeve and i'm ready to unleash them just for you.“ I cooed, brushing my nose against his cheek.

„Mmmm,“ he drawled seductively, „i can't wait to see what you'll come up with, my flame.“ He pushed his cheek against mine and i dug my nails into his back, pulling him closer. I had to lean down to make up for the difference in height, but i didn't mind. Time slowed down as we held each other.

„I hope you'll join me in my quest of horrors. I saw you at the lodge. You were magnificent!“ I whispered in his ear, pressing my face to his cheekbone. Our connection was rich with desire and appreciation, it streamed into me like sweet nectar. I loved making him happy, spoiling him with tenderness.

Astarion hummed blissfully against me, i could tell that he liked to be admired, liked to impress me. Sometimes it seemed to come from a vulnerable place, as if he needed to be sure that i still found him attractive and desirable. As if that former part of him had never truly went away. I didn't mind it, i loved him the way that he was. He did the same for me and it was more than i could ever hope for.

„So…you were watching me instead of fighting for your life?“ He teased.

„It's not my fault you're so distracting…“ i chuckled, our cheeks still squeezed together. „Your knife play is so sensual that i simply can't turn away… i adore it when you use your hands.“

He uttered a tiny laugh. „Are we still talking about murder, my dove? You're making it sound so indecent.“

„Murder is indecent, my sweet.“ I nibbled his ear.

I heard him smile and i continued tasting his pointy ear. I felt him relaxing into me, mumbling a delightful little moan.

„You were careless again, allowing those thugs to empty their quivers into your back.“ He scolded me tenderly.

„I was too distracted holding up the stakes.“ I whispered, returning to my delicious meal.

„I should've done more,“ he sighed.

„You were hilt-deep in Cornelis, pulling out quick would be a sign of weakness.“

Astarion erupted in a joyous laugh. We were so enamored with one another that we didn't even hear him coming. A creaking floorboard near the door alerted us of Adriel's presence. We turned our heads to find him standing in the doorway. The spawn was clean, his long, moist, wavy hair hanging loosely on chest and back. He was wearing a white satin robe with a lace trim, a relic that i had missed and which could've belonged to any previous renter. It was clearly a feminine cut and design, but it looked beautiful on him. The thin fabric was clinging to his wet body, gathering into countless folds. Adriel was looking at us with a tired expression. I remembered one of our rules – he was unable to enter our bedroom!

„Enter!“ Astarion exclaimed and something in Adriel's posture decompressed. He dropped his shoulders and stepped into the room.

„I don't remember saying that you can put on clothes,“ i said evilly.

Adriel's chin rose in annoyance and his hands hurried to untie his belt, but i stopped him.

„Let it be! You look good in a lady's robe. It's like it was meant to be.“ My smirk was venomous as i followed him with my eyes. Adriel tried to sit in the armchair, but i snapped my fingers and he froze midair.

„Those are ours. You must join our other possessions on the floor. Get on your hands and knees.“

Adriel's eyes narrowed as he glared at me with hurt pride. I walked up to him and shoved him to the floor. Adriel landed on his back, in the most unflattering pose. His robe flew open exposing his nudity. I stared at his limp manhood and he rushed to flap his robe over his hips. His eyes were defiant and he tried his best to hide his humiliation, but i could see right through him.

„Move it, spawn!“ I yelled.

Adriel turned to his side and climbed clumsily to his hands and knees.

„Good boy!“ I praised him and pat his rear like a dog. He looked lovely bent over like that, his hair piled on the floor. I wasn't done yet, he had to justify his presence in our bedroom. I sat on his back, using him as a bench, and the hunter groaned under my weight. His arms shuddered, but he steadied himself.

Astarion was visibly overjoyed by my antics.

„How's the seat, darling? Comfortable?“

„Not bad, though it could use some cushioning. A few more spawn and we could furnish an entire room.“

Astarion cackled and plopped into his armchair, observing us with a perverse smirk. I crossed my legs and sent him a playful kiss, smacking our spawn on the ass. He was my throne! A monster hunter serving a vampire queen! There was one eyesore, however – his wet hair on the floor. I raised my hand up and a hairbrush flew off the counter, landing in my grasp. I gathered Adriel's hair off the floor and pulled it onto his back, then started brushing and braiding it. Adriel grumbled and groaned as i worked through the tangles and clumps.

„Shh now!“ I uttered carelessly, giving his hair a tug. I tried to be gentle, but still managed to pull out a few of his hairs. It had simply become too tangled to be saved. Once i was done i braided all of it into a thick plait and tied it with a black ribbon.

Astarion watched us intently and praised me once i was done.

„Well done, darling! He looks much less like something that crawled out of the ground!“

Heavy banging echoed through the castle – someone was slamming the door knocker against the base.

„That must be him and it didn't take a century, surprisingly,“ Astarion scoffed.

„I'll let him in,“ i said standing up. „Why don't you try out our new love seat?“ I gestured towards Adriel, as if he was the finest piece of furniture we owned. „Come on, try it.“

Astarion rose from his armchair like the finest, most elegant being that ever lived and strolled over, keeping eye contact with me. It was obvious he was enjoying our little game. He sat on Adriel's back and lifted a leg over the other in the most casual manner possible.

„How does it feel?“ I asked with a trill of playfulness in my voice.

„It's cold, too hard and absolutely awful compared to every other chair i had ever sat upon.“ He replied with exaggerated strictness.

„But??“ I drawled. „How does it feel to crush your enemies under your derriere?“

„Fucking delightful!“ He grinned evilly and i kissed him on the forehead.

„I'll be right back,“ i said bolting out the door.

I practically flew down the stairs, jumping two steps at a time. I flung the door open with a wide smirk. Obreon was taken aback by my feverish intensity.

„You called me… is everything alright?“

„It's great! Now come in! Come!“ I beckoned him and he stepped inside. He was wearing a large cape lined with fur this time. He glanced around cautiously removing his thick gloves.

„We're upstairs,“ i grinned and dashed up the staircase. Obreon followed me without any hurry. He was dressed elegantly, even more so than usual, somehow. His pants were dark red, adorned with colorful embroidery and black panels. His boots were high and lined with fur. Red dangling earrings danced against his neck as he walked. Obreon unclasped his cape, pulled it down his shoulder and hung it over his arm with natural grace. He entered our bedroom with familiarity, his gaze wandering around the space and stopping on the figure on his hands and knees – and the handsome vampire sitting atop him. Obreon stared at them with the faintest furrow on his brow, digesting the scene, then pressed his lips together and proceeded to hang his cape on the clothing pole.

„Have a seat, dear,“ i said pointing to the armchair and he sat down.

„Notice anything new?“ I asked mischievously.

„Is that a new spawn?“ Obreon sounded careful.

„Indeed it is! This means we need to find another blood bag, but he's an investment.“

„May i ask why he's half-naked and wet?“

„It's because he's still fresh. Freshly from the grave.“

Obreon nodded as if this was a completely normal conversation to have late at night and he wasn't going to delve into it longer than necessary.

„So, you summoned me?“ He crossed his fingers and raised his chin. The young lord Anvegg emerged and was ready to talk business.

„There have been some unexpected…developments… and we would like your assistance.“ Astarion spoke from his fleshy throne.

Obreon nodded gracefully. „I'll do what i can.“

I gave him a short overview of the events, leaving out the details about Oneressa. I made it sound as she had arrived to give us the invitation and was kidnapped straight after. However, i drew attention to the fact that she was aware of our nature, but had no clue about our spawn. Obreon listened intently but with a growing worry creasing his forehead. Our exposure put him at risk.

„Lady Melidrient was tied using a special kind of rope plaited with Sussur Bloom, she told us that it's illegal to own and is used by the Watch. I think it might be a good lead to follow.“

„You're right, they shouldn't have it and every piece of said rope is accounted for in the Watch headquarters. The amount of people having access to it is limited. However, not all watch members are equally loyal and it's more than likely that they bribed someone to get a piece.“ Obreon explained.

„Cornelis had a storm sorcerer with him – it was she who helped him escape. He called her Amara. Does it sound familiar to you?“

Obreon narrowed his eyes and tapped his manicured fingers against the chair.

„It does. I managed this case not long ago. Her name is Amara Stormborn and she used to belong to the Night Watch, but was caught stealing from the vault. She escaped and is currently a runaway.“

„Do you remember where she lives?“ I asked excitedly.

„I do, i sent the Watch to her house for an ambush, but she didn't return. Secret agents are still keeping an eye on her cottage.“

„She's definitely not coming back, since she knows how the Watch works.“ I exhaled tiredly.

„That man – Cornelis – needs a place to stay. He could be renting a room at an Inn, but paying extra for privacy. In such a case no Inn owner will admit to having him, even if we question them. Or he could be living with another criminal, since he's great at making friends. If we start asking around he might get a whiff and flee. Offering a reward for a tip might urge someone to speak up, but there are going to be a lot of liars. I will keep an eye open for any sort of information.“

„He's slimy like a fish, try grabbing him and he'll slip right out of your hand. We're staying with Lady Melidrient. She invited us to her manor. This soggy mutt will remain here and watch out for trespassers.“ I gestured towards Adriel, who was watching us quietly.

„May i ask you something?“ Obreon was playing with the cuff of his jacket. The regal lord was gone and a hesitant elf was sitting in its place.

„Of course.“ I turned to him, a hand on my hip.

„You said that you met Cornelis in your distant past and he was a part of a criminal organization.“ Obreon articulated his thoughts carefully, while being as polite as possible. His big animated grey eyes (grey thanks to the masking spell he was using) examined me timidly.

My grin grew wider.

„You want to know how i met him?“ I asked amusedly.

Obreon nodded slightly, without averting his gaze off me.

„Gods above, she was an assassin!“ Astarion blurted out from his side of the room. „She killed a few bad people for Cornelis' daddy. Cleaned out the competition, so to speak. But that was it. Arsenia didn't associate with lazy criminals. That delusional git blames her for their downfall at Baldur's Gate. Arsenia refused to slice another piece of competition and they were chased out. Now he wants our money. I don't get why he won't earn himself a living by using his knife, since he's such a criminal mastermind. Forget the knife, he should find himself a lonely rich widower and he'd earn a fortune with that mouth of his. Sucking cock would pay his bills faster than whatever childish fucking games he's playing with us.“

His speech was delivered with such bitterness and burning sarcasm that i couldn't help but stare at him in awe and Obreon joined me. Astarion glared at us arrogantly.

„What? Did i spoil the surprise? We're not true nobility, the word lord in my name is just a decoration. However, i'm much more informed about the secret lives of the upper class than most titled folk.“ His eyes softened as he gazed at me. „Forgive me, my dear, i know you wanted a dramatic reveal, but you already had that with Oneressa. Lets not waste time, shall we.“

I waved my hand dismissively. „It's alright, Astarion, you hit the nail on the head.“ I turned to face Obreon and he looked at me with relief.

„Well…i can't say that i'm surprised.“ He admitted.

I narrowed my eyes and he rushed to explain himself. „I m-mean t-that you are really good at combat! And you both are so amazing at torture that you could teach classes for the Watch. I didn't mean anything offensive, i swear!“

I smiled, trying to calm him and it seemed to work. A sudden cackle resounded in the room, it was a voice i wasn't expecting. Adriel was trying to control his outburst but kept getting louder. At some point he sounded like he was mad. Astarion stared down at him with bone-chilling coldness. Our spawn's cackling was shaking his seating and the glare in his eyes was lethal.

„Did you hear anything funny, spawn?“ He questioned regally.

Adriel's cackle started choking in his throat and he gasped for air, a long strand of thick saliva dribbled from his mouth. He lifted his head to see me.

„No inclination towards evil? You both are such parasites and liars that you can't even get along with other criminals.“ He sneered at me, his sharp fangs wet and shiny, then averted his red eyes to Obreon, who inspected him indifferently. „And you, the oldest son of the Anvegg's, taking their orders like a lapdog. Are you even compelled? I don't think so. Why are they treating you so well? Is it because you love shoving your face between their thighs?“

It was evident by the tone of his voice that he was jealous of Obreon. In his eyes the noble elf was receiving special treatment, unlike himself. The white-haired elf was walking around freely, dressed in fine clothes, speaking to us as equals (even though it wasn't necessarily true) and yet he was destined for humiliation, used as a prop.

„The wealthy always get a pass, even in torment,“ Adriel added.

I regretted removing his ban of speaking.

„Do you want to shove your face between our legs then, spawn?“ I demanded boldly. „I'm starting to think that your only use is wagging your tongue.“

Adriel stared at me, saliva dripping from his mouth. Was he starting to experience his first hunger? Was it making him even more bitchy than usual?

„Don't you even dream of such a thing, you filthy mutt.“ Astarion said shoving his head down. „It's not your place to speak ill of your masters or other spawn. How are you planning to earn our kind disposition? By running your stupid mouth and spitting bile? Gods above! Prove it that you have an ounce of brain matter in that echoey head of yours.“

Astarion got up and walked leisurely towards the clothes chest, lifting the lid and taking something out. He proceeded strolling towards the spawn with a long leather belt in his hand.

„It's time you receive some proper discipline, you useless little worm.“

Adriel looked over his shoulder at the approaching doom. His head twitched nervously, his fingers dug into the wooden floor. If he could run he would be out of this room, but Astarion compelled him to stay.

„Please….don't…i will be quiet from now on.“ Adriel mumbled but his plea fell on deaf ears. I caressed the soft fabric of my gown, excited to see the beating. I caught Astarion's stare and he sent me the most perverse smirk that i have ever seen, which sent fireworks down to my crotch. I winked, encouraging him to continue. He was ready to put up a show for us and i was more than ready to enjoy.

With a broad motion the belt flew up into the air and came down loudly right onto Adriel's rear. The spawn yelped and arched his back. Astarion paced around him lazily and whipped him again, making the ex-hunter shudder and drool from his mouth.

The tender spot between my legs came alive, soaking my undergarments. I could never get enough of this selfish, sadistic urge to witness pain and suffering. The longer i inhabited this new immortal body, the more i enjoyed it. Wounds started looking like blooming blossoms, screams of agony sounded like cries of climax. Was i always somewhat sadistic in nature? Likely – but the vampiric blood in my veins intensified everything, both good and bad. The more flesh i tore and blood i spilled, the more i craved for it. It appeared so mundane, so commonplace. So inviting.

I thought i could finally understand Cazador, and those before him, understand what he felt carving the backs of his spawn and making them torture each other. The thrill it must've caused, the high it gave. The thought disturbed me and i cast it aside. There was not a drop of pity left inside my heart for Cazador, i could never forgive him for what he had done to the love of my life. It was my cross to bear and i was ready to accept this transformation. We were different from him, we were a new species.

I peeked at Obreon to see his reaction and it astonished me. The white-haired spawn was squeezing his legs together, his long elegant fingernails were digging into the armchair, his upper body felt stiff, while he was watching the beating with a hypnotic gaze. He seemed so captivated, so focused. I made my way to him and bent forward to be on the same level as him. I brought my nose closer to his ear and whispered.

„Do you like what you see?“

Obreon winced as if he had forgotten he wasn't alone. He shifted ever so slightly in the chair, wanting to reply but unable find the words.

„Do you enjoy seeing the punishment?“ I cooed, grazing my teeth against the edge of his ear. Obreon shuddered, his lips parted and thighs pressed tighter together.

„There's no need for shame. This performance is for us.“ I nibbled Obreon's earlobe, his earrings ringing against the enamel of my teeth. I moved lower and left a few delicate kisses on his neck. Obreon inhaled loudly through his nose, his head tilting to the side to let me closer.

In the background Adriel's cries were mixed with grunts, his heavy braid was coiled on the floor, his mouth gaping and dribbling saliva. His robe had ridden up and become loose, showing off his muscular thighs, as well as, his flaccid cock swinging in the beat of the whipping.

I kissed Obreon's neck and took his skin between my teeth, tugging it rather gently. My hands slid down the front of his jacket and started to unclasp it. I spread the sides open and exposed a fine light blue satin shirt underneath. I pushed my hand into the deep v-neck of his shirt and caressed his skin. Obreon shut his eyes for a brief moment and uttered a deep sigh. I stroked his silky skin before moving up to finger his nipple. Obreon shifted in his seat again, his head falling against me, his cheek brushing mine. I could see the outline of his erection through his trousers, it was calling to me. I pulled out my hand and snaked it down his stomach, grasping his cock through the fabric. Obreon emitted a gasp of surprise and reached for me, grabbing my arm. He squeezed it needily, invitingly and leaned against me. I stroked his cock until i heard a few shaky breaths of lust. I wasn't done yet.

I pushed his thighs open and Obreon's head fell against the back of the chair in feverish anticipation. I undid his pants and thrust my hand inside, finding his hard member was quite an annoyance in all of those undergarments, but it made its way into my palm. I squeezed it, then stroked it slowly, yet firmly. Obreon groaned and thrust his hips upward, yearning for the generosity of my hand. His eyes were shut, his fingers clawing the fabric of the armrests.

I returned to kissing his neck, his body undulating below – his cock locked between my fist and the seat of the chair.

„How do you want to cum? Don't be shy. Do you want to be sucked…or suck someone off?“ I murmured beside his ear so fainlty that nobody could hear us. Well, nobody but Astarion. I was sure he was listening very carefully. „Do you want to fuck or…be fucked, mmm?“

Obreon let out a shaky breath while thrusting his hips into my fist. His breathing had become loud and demanding. I brought my left hand to his face and traced his soft lips with a finger. His tongue slipped out and licked it. The room had become very silent, i looked up to see that the torture had ended. Astarion stood beside his victim, watching us. I smiled to him while pushing my finger deeper into Obreon's mouth, and our spawn's hips rolled in unison. He was captivated by us and the lustful gaze in his eyes was captivating me. I whispered in Obreon's ear again.

„Would you like some cock, my sweet boy? Or some pussy?“

I slowed my hand around his cock and kissed his lips. Obreon replied eagerly by shoving his tongue deep into the wet crevasse of my mouth. I rubbed our tongues together and parted ways, going to meet Astarion. I wrapped a hand around his waist and kissed him hungrily. He dropped the belt and grasped my dress, squeezing me. Our kiss was starved, vulgar, indecent. When i pulled away the room was spinning around me, my soaked undergarments cold against the skin. I pushed Astarion's shoulder so that he sat on Adriel's back. I lifted my gown and underskirts, then rested my foot up on Adriel's shoulder. The bloomers i was wearing were open at the crotch, which made presenting myself quite easy.

„Or maybe you want both? Come and get it.“ I beckoned Obreon with a finger and he jumped up from his seat, stormed across the room and fell to his knees in front of me. His face dove into my dripping bloom with such ferocity that i shuddered all over. His tongue thrashed against my folds, focusing its sloppy attention on the clit. My knees almost buckled from the pleasure. I hissed and bared my teeth, throwing my head back. It was intense and fulfilling. Obreon's tongue flicked my clit and started moving rhythmically, taking breaks to run up and down my swollen folds. I was so soaking wet that streaks of fluid were smearing across Obreon's face. My clit was so sensitive that it felt like liquid bliss. I was unable to stifle a groan of absolute delight. The sensitivity was only growing and i started rocking my hips. Obreon's tongue was prodding me rapidly, my glistening folds rubbing against his face. I orgasmed with a pathetic gasp, pushing him away immediately because of the sensitivity. Me feet felt weak and i teetered backwards, sitting down on the floor.

Obreon wasn't wasting any time, he was already at Astarion's feet, opening his pants and pulling out his hardened cock. He held it lovingly as he shoved it down his throat, meanwhile his face was still glimmering from my juices, his mouth drenched by my pleasure. His head moved fast as he sucked his master's cock like a delicacy. The elf kept his eyes shut, his hands found support on each of Astarion's thighs. The way he serviced us was so…self-indulgent. As if he had lost all restrictions and was finally able to do something forbidden, something he deeply desired. I leaned against Adriel's body to rest and watched them. Every motion, every sound, it was so satisfying to behold. I enjoyed watching my lover climax, it was easier to do from side view.

A while later Astarion opened his eyes and looked at me, his eyes were dulled by pleasure and unfocused. I bit my lip unintentionally, what a delectable scene it was! Obreon pulled his shiny cock out of his mouth and slurped the tip with the most gluttonous appetite. The way his tongue swirled around the thick shaft was mesmerizing. He took it back into his mouth and sucked hungrily, loudly. I reached out and put my hand on Astarion's. He lifted it and entwined our fingers.

His mouth was relaxed, his eyes becoming more heavy-lidded and unfocused. I knew he was reaching his orgasm and it made me giddy. My hand tightened around his palm. Astarion's lips parted and a delicate shudder ran through his entire body, he teetered backwards ever so slightly and then every muscle in his body relaxed. Milky fluids oozed from the corners of Obreon's mouth, but he didn't stop, moving his head slowly up and down his master's shaft, dribbling cum down his chin. I watched it drop to the floor, glimmering on dark wood. Each time he pulled it out more of it trickled from his mouth. He popped the cock out and i could see streaks of white on his tongue. Astarion turned to him and clasped his face firmly. Obreon gazed up at him with lustful playfulness.

„Swallow.“

Obreon shut his mouth and gulped loudly.

„Good boy.“ Astarion praised and brushed his thumb across his lips.

I stared at Obreon's erection which was peeking out from his open pants.

„Sit on your master's lap, my sweet. Facing me.“ I cooed lovingly and Obreon straightened his back, whilst looking up at Astarion.

„You heard your mistress,“ he spoke firmly.

Obreon stood up and Astarion pulled down his pants. He climbed on his lap, shifting to find a comfortable position. His master pushed one of his hands down his back and reached between his butt cheeks. He was planning to give our spawn a little treat – a deep massage. Obreon's cock twitched keenly and he sucked his lower lip in anticipation. His body swayed softly as Astarion touched his rear entrance, a lustful flush adorning his cheeks.

„Easy now, you must relax.“ Astarion purred against his ear.

I crawled closer and got comfortable between Obreon's legs. I summoned something from my frobidden suitcase and a tiny glass bottle flew across the room. I caught it midair and passed it to Astarion. He lubed himself and our spawn. I exhaled onto the tip of Obreon's erection and flicked it with my tongue. He shuddered delightfully. I blew another mouthful of hot breath on him and his hips rolled needily – as if this was a carnal conversation. A question, an answer.

My tongue shot out and rubbed against his tip. Obreon's eyes drifted shut and he let out a heavy sigh. I sucked the tip and started playing with it as if it was a piece of candy. I could see that Astarion's hand was moving gently behind Obreon's back and our spawn made a long breathy groan. Astarion's red eyes were peeking over his shoulder – they were stuck on me. I pushed Obreon's cock deep into my mouth and pulled it out slowly, squeezing it with my tongue.

Obreon's hips winced and his cock jumped eagerly. I grabbed it and squeezed it tightly around the base, then stroked it and sucked it back into my mouth. Obreon gasped and mumbled something incoherent. I moved my other hand to his shaven ballsack and fondled it tenderly. Our spawn's body undulated on Astarion's lap, his breathing was quick and desperate. I pulled his cock out yet again and proceeded licking and sucking on random places, while my other hand was still playing with his balls. Obreon's body swayed forward and a loud groan flew off his lips, a lustful furrow dancing on his brow. Astarion must've hit the sweet spot inside him.

„Mmmh, mmmgghh, aaahh, fuck!“ Obreon's moans got louder and he fell even more forward. I slurped his cock into my mouth and started sucking it fast, hitting it with my tongue. Obreon's face contorted in primal pleasure. His moans and grunts got louder, fast-paced.

„Oh….sweet old gods….mmmhhh….fuck!“ He cried as i sucked him faster and Astarion's hands serviced him speedily from the back.

Obreon rested his hands on Adriel's back to steady his upper body. His breaths became deeper and slower. Then his face fully relaxed and a shaky drawn-out moan escaped him – a moan so sweet that it made me throb. I tasted him in my mouth and continued sucking him, gathering his fluids in my cheek. Then i pulled him out and got on my feet, taking his chin and forcing it up.

Obreon opened his eyes, they were glazed over and veiled by ecstasy. I placed my thumb under his lower lip, pulling it down. He understood me immediately and opened his mouth. I leaned forward and trickled his fluids straight into his gullet. He shut his mouth and gulped obediently. I was satisfied and kissed him, he replied passionately and our mouths merged with indecent messiness.

I ended our kiss and sat down on the floor, feeling a lust-induced weakness in my legs. Adriel was being awfully quiet beside us. I ran my eyes up and down his body to find out what was happening. Something engorged was peeking out from his loosened robe. I glanced at Adriel's face, he was looking straight ahead with a shameful expression.

„How sweet! It's nice to finally meet your little friend.“ I cooed, moving his robe out of the way so that i could see his erection in full glory.

A shudder ran though Adriel's body, but he didn't respond.

„I could rid you of your swollen predicament,“ i drawled, reaching to his cock and caressing it with a finger as if was some sort of a shy little bird. Adriel shivered as i touched him, skipping breaths.

„Wouldn't it feel nice after being disciplined, hmm?“ I carried on, my finger brushing the tip of his cock. „All you have to do is apologize.“

Adriel looked away, his head falling down in shame and hesitation. I was expecting him to decline the offer, but he spoke out.

„I'm sorry for all that i said.“ His voice was calm and dry.

„What a good boy! Now say that you deserved to be punished.“ I purred with a diabolical smirk.

He moistened his lips as another shudder ran through his hips.

„You're right. I deserved it.“

„Well done, you earned yourself a treat.“

I scooted closer, turned myself towards him and grasped his cock firmly into my hand. I began rubbing it generously, up and down, as if milking a goat for the last droplets of milk. Adriel shivered and dropped his head, gasping for breath. I watched his fingernails dig into the floor as he grunted like an animal. His seed splattered on the dark wood, as he finally came, and i milked him to the last drop. Then i pushed my hand against his face.

„Lick it clean.“

Adriel's usual feistiness seemed gone and he proceeded to clean my hand with his tongue. He lapped my palm, his tongue coiled around my fingers. Astarion and Obreon observed us with surprise, completely taken by the unexpected turn. I pat Adriel's head as a reward and got up. I needed to wash my hands, as well as other parts.

„Oh my, that was the finest taming of the shrew i have ever witnessed in my 200 years. My sweet, i have been undervaluing your talents.“ Astarion said with admiration.

It tickled me greatly and i leaned closer to run my clean hand through his curly hair.

„Have you? Oh well, you know what i like if you're feeling generous.“ I bowed to kiss his lips and ripped into his flesh like a hawk. Astarion grasped my dress and pulled me closer as out mouths merged.

„I need to wash,“ i purred as i broke our kiss. „I'll be in the bathroom.“

Obreon shifted his legs on the floor, as if trying to get up.

„I would need a clean-up as well.“ He said.

„Very well.“ I nodded and we headed to the bathroom, Obreon and Astarion right behind me.

„Someone has to give Adriel a rag. He needs to clean up after himself.“ I said and Obreon smiled cruelly.

„I'll give him one.“ He said, taking a rag from the counter and rushing to the bedroom, where he dropped it in front of the ex-hunter.

„You were told to clean up.“ He said coldly and left.

I heard the rag dragging on the floor and smirked to myself.

„Obreon sounded so condescending. What a good boy.“ I whispered to Astarion and he grinned back.

„He's catching up. I think he's taking after you, dear.“

We continued washing ourselves when Obreon arrived. He poured himself some water, then heated the metal bowl with fire magic. He caught me staring and his grey eyes locked on me curiously.

„I didn't know you liked such a thing. Do you want to talk about it?“

The noble elf blushed and averted his eyes. He seemed bashful about the matter, yet a part of him was dying to explain himself. It had been weighing down on him for ages and the elf needed to talk about it with someone, maybe for the first time in his life.

„My father…“ He started and paused.

We exchanged a meaningful look with Astarion.

„He's a very reserved man….but…sometimes he loses control and when he does, he becomes…quite violent. Once he caught a servant stealing, it had been a stressful time for him, so he snapped. He shoved the elf to the floor and started beating him with a horse whip. He didn't even use it on animals, it was there as a relic, yet he let the poor man taste it without mercy. I was a teen when it happened, i watched it in secret and i was horrified. Yet, i couldn't look away and….it felt arousing. I got hard. I felt so ashamed that i never spoke about it.“

„Has he beaten others since then?“

„Occasionally, but he really hates losing control.“

„And…. you have watched him ever since?“ I asked lovingly, while unable to contain my excitement.

Obreon licked his lips and looked at me bravely this time. „Yes.“

„There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetie. You like what you like. I'll gladly put on a show for you….Astarion doesn't mind exercising either.“ I soothed our spawn. It was clear now, there was nothing holding us back, no walls or promises or taboos. Astarion grinned as he dried his hands with a towel.

„She's doing it for herself, but she loves an audience.“ He joked.

„Such is life, my love. You're either a watcher or the watched.“ I said mysteriously. „Or forgotten, but nobody wants to be that.“

Astarion seemed to drift away for a second, yet he continued drying himself in a way that was automatic.

„What do you call an object that thinks it's a subject?“ He asked me idly.

It came out of nowhere and it took a second to register in my brain. Astarion was becoming more introspective, more outspoken about his feelings. A change i was glad to see.

„Brainwashed or living in denial.“

My head turned so fast that it cracked. Obreon's words were so matter-of-fact and casual, like he had answered without much thought. I almost expected Astarion to become angry with him, but he snapped out of it and burst out laughing. He hung his towel on a hook and walked up to our spawn, petting his head.

„Not bad! Is this another speck of wisdom you picked up from your father? What grim thoughts hide in such a handsome head. And which one are you in that household of yours? Object or subject?“

Obreon pressed his lips together and sighed.

„Object.“

„…of great pride, i'm sure.“ Astarion grinned, his hand was stroking Obreon's white hair. „But….an object nonetheless?“ His voice became higher in anticipation.

Obreon nodded. „Father wants us to look flawless, polished like a diamond. While he has not contributed much to it himself. We had nannies, governesses and teachers of every kind and they formed the most memories for me. The times i did spend with my father felt absent, like a theatrical play – he was the patriarch of the family and we were his lambs. Thank gods it didn't happen often, since the times he did taught me things were quite frightening. That time he explained our deities to me was traumatizing, and his hunting lessons were equally disturbing.“

„What about your mother?“ I chimed in.

„She was and always will be a busy lady. She has a wide circle of friends, leads events and hosts gatherings. Quite the figure in charity work. But she chose to spend her time elsewhere and once at home she was absent and superficial. We used to fight for her attention, who got the pat on the head or an extra cuddle. How stupid it felt. Even her praises seemed insincere. I stopped looking for her attention a long time ago. She seemed almost…relieved.“

„Was it an arranged marriage?“ I asked.

„Sort of. Father had many candidates, all from the leading families, a few from elsewhere, though they had little chances. Father said that they liked each other immediately. Mother was very energetic and theatrical. Outspoken. I think father tasted her ambition. Of course she knew that this marriage would bring her great power.“

Obreon spoke tactfully, like he was talking about someone else's story, but there was an underlying sadness in his voice. He had made peace with all of it, but he wished it could have been different.

„How did your siblings turn out?“ Astarion questioned, lingering above him like a serpent coiled around a tree.

„Each one found a way of coping. Some are bold assholes that are hiding their feelings of worthlessness. Some are scared and anxious. Some are escapists.“

„Aww…poor babes.“ Astarion pressed Obreon's head against himself, meanwhile sending me a dark and diabolical look. I could tell what he was thinking about. All of his siblings were such perfect victims. I tried my best to hide my grin from Obreon, but made sure to show Astarion that we were on the same wavelength. Oh, those poor, lonely children – though fully grown by now – so deprived of attention and warmth. Anybody could've plucked them like berries. I understood Obreon's attachment to us even more. I moved over and kissed his cheek.

„That was unfair. I'm sorry that you had to grow up like this. I wish you could've met my parents. They would've loved you.“

Obreon gazed at me curiously.

„Would have?“ He tilted his head.

„They're dead. I was 21 when a beast attacked them. Then i was completely alone in our forest cabin.“

I noticed compassion in Obreon's eyes, he caressed my arm.

„I'm sorry for your loss. What beast was it.“

I wanted to tell him but something cracked inside me. Images flashed behind my eyes, images that i have been trying to erase.

„I'm not ready to talk about it yet. But i will tell you one day.“

„I'm counting on that, my flame.“ Astarion took my hand and brought it to his lips. He was curious about my past. Dying to know, in fact.

„You have a home with us. Forever. The best spawn we've ever created.“ I stroked his cheek and Obreon smiled.

Obreon got dressed and left us soon. We told him that we came to pack our belongings, torment our new spawn, and will be flying back shortly. Obreon left us in a good mood, even his step appeared as light as a feather. We started packing our suitcases, deciding to take those instead of our clothing chests. After we were done i asked Astarion to read Adriel his rules again. This meant that our spawn had to exit our bedroom and stand beside the door. I asked him to carry our suitcases downstairs. We got ready and followed him to the front door. We stepped outside, shifted into bats, picked up our belongings and flew into the night.

Flying over the city wasn't difficult, but finding a place to land in Oneressa's manor was quite the challenge. Guards were walking around, lanterns were lit. Eventually we found a nice dark corner to land – it was our balcony. I kicked open the door and dragged the suitcases behind me. Astarion carried his with much more poise. We had left the fireplace lit, so it was nice and warm in our bedroom. I tossed a fireball, as well as, a few logs into it and the fire bloomed hungrily.

I couldn't get used to our new living space, it was so decadent, yet so tasteful. Our bed was enormous and had four poles with thick curtains that could be pulled shut. Poles, head and footboards were elaborately decorated by carvings. There was a massive writing desk at the window, a settee by the fireplace alongside a narrow table. The floor was covered in furs, walls were adorned by paintings, a giant tapestry and countless antlers and animal heads. The door frames and ceiling beams were carved and patterned. The walls were smooth and painted green, the floor was wooden.

I stared at a small bottle with fragrant oils that sat on the beside table. It was all so clean and hospitable.

I pulled my suitcases into the corner of the room but i was too lazy to unpack. Astarion moved his belongings next to mine. I took off my coat and boots, loosened the laces on my gown and crawled out. I tossed it over a suitcase and sat on the settee wearing my lacy chemise and stockings. Astarion fumbled in our bags and sat beside me, giving me a pair of slippers. I slid them on as he was lazily unbuttoning his jacket.

„Are we going after Obreon's siblings?“ I asked. „You hesitated turning him, remember? Yet you were glowing today when he described his dysfunctional family. What changed?“

„Obreon pulled himself up by his bootraps and grew into a balanced young man. We helped him find his footing and listened to his traumas, i think we have supported him more than his own father. All he needed was the right kid of motivation and a shoulder to cry on. How much more difficult can other Anvegg's be?“

„They can be a pain, according to Obreon himself. Didn't he say that some of them are assholes?“

„Even assholes give in to temptation, you just have to know the right bait.“ Astarion undid his buttons and slipped off his jacket, draping it over the backrest. He crossed his legs. „Imagine, the head of the most influential family who's ruling this town loses all of his children – all of his future gone. Frankly, i don't think he deserves them anyway.“

I wobbled a slipper on my foot, trying to see his vision.

„Hmm, that's quite the statement. I wasn't expecting paternal feelings from you.“

Astarion sighed dramatically.

„Gods forbid! It's a plan we should consider.“ He pulled off his boots and dug his stocking clad feet into the carpet. „They have quite good genetics, if you hadn't noticed. I thought you might like another white-haired toy?“ He peeked at me with mischief and i pat my thighs to invite him over. Astarion turned and lifted his legs onto my lap. I started stroking his silky calves.

„We simply have low standards for titled folk. Someone ought to tell them that they will look ten times more beautiful if they stop marrying the same four people. Their family tree is a spiral at this point. A downward one.“

„If it makes them more gullible then it's a win for us. Think about it, darling. Besides, i hope this kind of things isn't practiced here. I haven't seen any titled folk with two noses. At least, not yet.“

„They're in a dungeon somewhere and patriarchs make them fight each other when they're bored.“

Astarion laughed and i smirked along, my fingers were stroking the same spot near his knee. His stockings were so soft that i couldn't stop myself. I was thinking about his idea and it was going to be a lot of work.

A light knock grazed our door, it was so gentle, so barely audible, yet i almost jumped out of my skin. We exchanged a stare with Astarion.

„Yes?“ He called out and the door cracked open shyly. A pair of eyes inspected us before a figure stepped in the room. It was Oneressa, she was in her loose white nightgown and wrapped in a heavy quilt. She looked quite pale and distraught.

„I hope i wasn't interrupting.“ She said with a sad smile.

„No-no, what is it?“ I asked, being alarmed by her appearance.

„Do you mind if i sit with you for a little?“

„Not at all. Come here.“ I pat the settee and she shut the door silently, scurried over and climbed onto the seat. She pulled her quilt tighter against herself and cuddled up to my side. She was wearing thick slippers embroidered with colorful flowers.

„You were out?“ Oneressa asked nervously.

„We got our bags.“ Astarion said. „What's the matter? You seem…distressed.“ Oneressa wasn't her usual self, something had upset her. It was unnerving.

„I..i just had a nightmare, that's all. When i got up i thought i saw someone in the garden. It could've been my imagination or a guard having a piss in the bushes.“ She spoke fast and her eyes were glossy as if she could burst into tears at any given moment. „I ran here…i didn't know where else to go…“

I put my arm around her.

„There, there, it's all over now. Should we go and have a look outside?“

Oneressa shook her head, smiling.

„It's fine. The guards will get him, if he's even there. I just….i'm just a little shaken up, that's all.“

I rubbed her shoulder to comfort her. Even someone with her nerves wasn't safe from nightmares. The traumatic events of today will haunt her for a long time, possibly for the rest of her days. I was shocked that she ran to us, then again, we were sharing a secret together. I hoped she hadn't heard us talking about the Anveggs. „Did you wait for long? Behind the door, i mean.“ I asked her.

„No. I just got out of bed.“ She sighed and her head fell against my shoulder.

„We didn't see anybody in the garden.“ I explained warmly. „We got in through the balcony. Gods, these things are useful. You can stay as long as you like.“

„Thank you,“ she purred. She was relaxing, getting sleepy again. She must've been exhausted.

„You scared Arsenia,“ Astarion joked, trying to lighten the mood. „It was a sight to behold. I've never seen a vampire jolt this violently. Thought she will knock over the settee.“

I shook my head annoyingly.

„Stop this slander or you'll be sleeping on the floor, lord of the undead.“

He sent me an impish smirk.

„As if you could fall asleep when i'm not beside you. You'd feel bad for me and carry me to bed yourself. Admit it, dear.“ He flirted.

„You're begging to sleep on the floor now.“ I laughed. „Don't tarnish my reputation of a heartless vampire queen.“

„Hate to spoil the fun but you have a heart – a beating one – and it's beating pretty fast right now… just admit it, you can't resist me.“

We were so caught up in our banter that failed to notice that Oneressa had fallen asleep. I touched her wrist and measured her pulse, she was deep in elvish torpor.

„She's out.“ I stated.

„I'm surprised she ran to us, we're the most dangerous things in this manor.“ Astarion said after a minute of silence.

„Me too, if i'm honest.“

„She must be very lonely.“

Astarion's words agitated me in a way i couldn't explain. It was so obvious now that he pointed it out. Because the vampire lord had a flair for drama it was easy to forget how observant he could be, if he wanted to. It was another quality of his that started coming through after the ritual, or after he had dealt with his past, to be exact.

„I feel stupid for being jealous of her. I thought she was a threat, but look at her. She's crawling up your skirt like a stray kitten. Gave her castle away for half the price – how financially unwise! – got us invitations, kept our secrets, she'll do anything for us because we accept her. Just another broken soul stuck inside her gilded cage.“

„Yes, it's really hard to understand how you could be jealous of someone like her.“ I teased. His jealousy was still somewhat of a mystery to me. He seemed offended by my sarcasm.

„Look at us and what we've achieved, we walked through hell and came out as heroes. As literal lords of the night. You have a one of a kind vampire ascendant by your side.“ He explained smugly but i could sense that something was off. He was trying to hide his true feelings behind his inflated ego.

„Why don't you tell me the true reason you're jealous of her. You didn't give a damn when we adopted Obreon. That boy has seen more of our bodies than any doctor.“ I questioned him softly. He wrinkled his nose and turned away to gaze into the fire. There it was, i had hit the nail on the head.

„Obreon is a man and i know everything a man can give. You'll laugh at me, darling, but i know my worth and i can trump anything he can offer in tenfold. She, however….“ He paused and chuckled. „That's the problem, isn't it. She. She has something that i don't and i can't compete with her. Whatever special kind of affection she satisfies…i have nothing on my side to even it out. You like her, i can tell, my dear.“

I squeezed his legs tightly.

„Don't be silly, no one can replace you! You're more than just a…a,“ i struggled, everything sounded so stupid coming out of my mouth, „a body. I love you. For you. You're the special one to me. I was jealous of her too when we first met. Remember? She was so visibly interested in you that i felt protective, but you were right – i had to keep a cool head. I wouldn't say that she satisfies anything special…“

I paused to check her pulse again, making sure she was still asleep.

„It's her attitude, her personality. She's charismatic, brave, smart and playful. She isn't afraid to live the way she wants to. She's fun to be around and i love these traits in others. You have them, too, in fact.“

Astarion looked at me warmly, his features softened.

„Still, she has certain body parts that i will never have. I can give you the world but not an ample bosom.“

„And you have something that she doesn't. It's balanced, if you think about it. Besides, you're too harsh with yourself. You have an excellent pair of tits.“

He sighed and rolled his eyes.

„That's not what i had in mind, darling.“

„Just take the compliment, beloved.“ I laughed. „You're overthinking it. The instrument itself isn't as important as the player. You can literally do everything that she can. And yes, i really love your tits. I love cunty women and you're a bit of a cunt yourself.“

I smiled seductively and sent him a cheeky wink.

„Well, thank you for reminding me that.“ He grumbled. „I guess i'm feeling a little protective as you said. Gah, how stupid!“

I caressed his calves. We had to talk about it, keeping it bottled up inside would drive us both mad.

„It's sweet.“ I smiled. „I like that you're jealous. Many would die to get a taste of me, but all of this goodness is yours alone.“ I pinched his toe and pulled it mischievously.

Astarion stared at me silently, contemplating. He was so adorable, so lovable – it awakened my playful side, my need to torment him. I loved him to pieces and i simply had to do it. It couldn't be too hurtful, just a little jab.

„Maybe we could practice your management skills at the ball? I'll pull our dear lady into a nook and let her eat me out while you watch and take notes. Lets call it exposure therapy.“

Astarion's gaze sharpened. I looked at him intently, smirking, letting him know that i wanted a reaction.

„You're playing dangerous games, my sweet.“ He replied hoarsely, with the finest notes of threat.

It pleasured me and i pushed further.

„Really? And what are you going to do? Sulk all night? Complain about your cruel fate? Mighty ascendant who can't even control his own lover. Ohh…the woe!“

He jolted forth and clasped the back of my head, our faces nearly touched.

„I would simply rip out her throat, darling, and watch her spew blood. Your fun would be cut short.“ He sounded dangerous but i could tell he was playing. It was thrilling and i felt an urge to bite him.

„And then what? Would you kneel to finish the job? Lick her blood from my loins?“ I grinned from ear to ear glowing with bloodlust.

He moved a little closer as he whispered. „I don't think you've earned that treat.“

I ran my tongue across my teeth, elated. I snatched the front of his shirt and pulled, his mouth brushed my lips as he fell forward.

„Then i would simply take what's mine, beloved. It won't be gentle.“ I growled and bit his lip, giving it a generous tug. Our play was thrilling and i couldn't contain my chuckle.

„You're very, oh so very naughty. You should be in a cage,“ he murmured with a threat in his voice.

I kissed him and he fought hard to get inside my mouth. It was a sloppy and disgusting kiss. It lasted for centuries. When it finally ended i burst into laughter and coated his cheeks in haste kisses.

„As if anyone could replace this.“ I grinned.

We enjoyed the quiet night and the golden glow coming from the fire. Then i carried Oneressa in our bed and Astarion changed. We made ourselves comfortable and pulled the bed curtains shut.

I woke up later in the day. It was impossible to tell what time it was, but Oneressa was gone. I was on my side, arm and leg draped over Astarion. His hand was on my back, second hand on my arm. Our limbs were entwined like roots. I stirred and pulled the curtains open. It was light outside, the snow made it painfully white and i had to squint. The sky was still clouded but the weather was nice and bright. I moved carefully as to not wake Astarion and got up to change. I pulled on a pale lilac homedress and slippers, walked out of our bedroom and went exploring the wing.

The second door opened into a long dark hallway with many doors. I peeked into each one until i found the bathroom. It was huge and luxurious, brushing teeth and washing there was pure bliss. Once i was refreshed i rang the bell, a servant knocked on the doors of our wing and i cracked them open, greeting her with a smile.

I asked for coffee, wine and treats. My order arrived after a short wait and i placed the tray on the living-room table. One of the rooms in our wing happened to be a library, so i spent some time perusing the shelves. After i had found something to read i lit the fireplace and sat down in our living-room.

Astarion woke up later and heated his coffee up with fire magic. He was quite happy to hear that we had a library and went for a book hunt. We spent hours reading, moving on to wine after finishing our coffee. A servant knocked on our doors again to let us know that Oneressa would like us to have dinner together. It would be in a private setting, in a room right beside our wing and we didn't need to change. It was a thoughtful gesture and we simply threw on our robes as we joined our host in the dining-room. Oneressa herself was wearing a simple gown and no servants stayed behind after the table was set. It was as personal as one could hope to be in a giant manor such as this. Oneressa was her usual charming self and it was pretty enjoyable, although, we didn't touch the food. She was the only one feasting.

After dinner Oneressa gave us a tour of her manor. She talked about the history and complained about her neighbors. We even played some board games. The day flew by quickly and i had no regrets about staying over anymore. ♦

Adriel was wandering the dark and chilly castle with growing nervousness. It was such a maze that he didn't need to worry about daylight. Being in his new body was confusing and unnerving. His vision was suddenly crystal clear, so much so that he could see the tiny bugs crawling around in the unlit corners of the kitchen. These were silverfish or woodlouse, he couldn't remember.

There was a burning sensation in his stomach and it was getting louder, sharper. It was gnawing him from the inside, making him salivate like a rabid dog. Adriel tried to sleep but was unable to do so. So, he tried to read but all he could think about was food. He tried to eat an apple but it did nothing to quiet his hunger. So, he ate another, then another, but the sensation of hunger was only becoming louder. The pain in his stomach felt like hundreds of tiny knives, stabbing him over and over.

Adriel gave up and ran to the underground tunnels. It was so cold there that he could see his breath. He stared into the darkness, his improved senses capturing the padding of tiny feet. Adriel prowled the endless stone hallways and pounced. He raised the tiny squeaking creature up into the air and broke its neck. Adriel sank his teeth into its flesh and the sweet taste of blood soothed his aching innards. He drank until the rat was dry and he tossed it aside, returning to the castle.

The darkness arrived early, as always. He sat upstairs and looked out the window. The landscape was desolate, he only caught a glimpse of a few birds in the trees. Adriel looked down at the snow. Would he be able to jump? Could he even kill himself that way? No, he needed the sun to die. Was he compelled against it?

„Can i even do it?“ He asked himself. „Can a spawn kill itself?“

Adriel had been afraid and angered ever since he was caught, but now…all he felt was emptiness. He had basically given up and made peace with the thought that he will die. These monsters would torture him until the day they got bored, then end him and he almost yearned for that escape. Adriel had been a proud and arrogant man his whole life, he saw his work as something important. It was his duty to save as many people as he could. He was a hero. He disliked anything other, he even hated elves for their ability to use magic and their long lifespans. He didn't understand people who married them, or married anything other than human. It was unnatural in his mind.

Now, he was something other than human himself. He hated magic, it was an unfair advantage and he didn't understand it. He only understood what he could see and touch. But he was a vampire now and he didn't feel too different from his usual self, if he cast aside hunger pain and his improved senses. He was still himself, yet not at the same time. Were all the spawn he had hunted before the same as him? Just sadder and hungrier versions of their former selves? Were they suffering as much as he was? Did they, too, think about death? Was he killing someone's sons and daughters who had been tortured for centuries? It was all too much and it made him depressed.

Something ran across the castle yard. Adriel blinked and tried to focus on the ground below. A giant dog was running around in the snow, it had two heads. It could've been a wolf hybrid, but Arsenia hadn't said anything about killing those. Adriel ran down the stairs and peeked out from the window beside the door. It was quiet outside, the twilight was heavy and soft – so inviting. The two-headed dog ran across the front door and he unlocked it. It would be a good meal. If he could catch it, that is. Maybe he was unable to eat it, it was against the rules, but he would still try. Maybe if he dragged the animal into the basement, it would work?

Adriel snuck out into the yard, he wsa still wearing the robe that he found in the bathroom. The yard was full of animal prints. He crept around, keeping close to the castle wall. The large dog was standing in the yard, sniffing the snow. All he had to do was get closer to it. An unsettling noise reached his ears and he turned on his heels, five two-headed dogs were running towards him. They attacked him at once, ripping into his flesh, tearing his limbs. Then a shadow appeared behind him and a net flew over his head. ♦

Obreon was sitting in his study and sipping wine. His servants didn't know that he had mixed it with deer blood. It tasted delicious and his favorite music was playing on the gramophone. There was a large pile of papers on his desk that he had to read through and each case needed to be managed separately. There were all sorts of documents in there, some disputes over inheritance and land, compensations that needed to be paid, missing persons and criminal acts that needed a ruling or signed permits. He was just reading a paper that requested a permit for importing rare goods when someone knocked on his door.

„Come in!“ He yelled without averting his eyes from the document.

„Lord Anvegg, can i take a moment of your time? I'm coming from the Watch. Boss said that you are interested in vampires?“

Obreon raised his head and looked at the man. It was a tall and handsome elf, wearing chainmail and an emblem of the Day Watch.

„It's true. Do you have any news for me?“

The man tried his best to hold back a chuckle. Something was greatly amusing to him.

„We have a big one. An hour or so ago a vampire spawn was dropped off in front of our house. A hunter said that he was chasing deer near a place called Crow's Call when a vampire attacked him. Luckily, he was hunting with his dogs, so they protected him and the spawn sustained quite a bit of damage.“

His words felt like a whiplash and Obreon used all of his acting abilities to appear calm.

„And? Did you question the hunter? What's his name?“

„He said he would stay for the questioning but disappeared when we carried the spawn inside. So, we don't really know, sadly. Boss said that you would like to interrogate the spawn yourself and dispose of him. He's tied up in the prison cell.“

Obreon stood up and finished his glass of wine.

„Very good! I'm coming over. Thank you.“

He snatched his coat and followed the elf outside where a small sleigh was waiting for them. Obreon asked the elf soldier about the hunter while on the road. The latter had seen him but his description was painfully vague, it was a tall man wearing a thick coat and a hood, green eyes, half elf, nothing glaringly unusual. It didn't match the description of Cornelis either, Arsenia had been very detailed when talking about him. Cornelis was a man that stood out like a sore thumb, it was sensible that he was using henchmen.

They stopped in front of a small stone building and got off. This was one of many Watch houses scattered in the city, a small place with two prison cells and a warm room for resting. It had everything that Watch members may need during their service hours. The head of this Watch unit greeted them as they walked in. The room was warm and lit by a big fireplace.

„Lord Anvegg,“ the muscular elf woman nodded and guided them through a stone archway that took them to the dungeon.

„Has it spoken?“ Obreon asked and the warrior elf shook her head with a smirk.

„No. It has been growling and thrashing around, trying to escape. We had to tie it to the bars. Poor thing looks like it's in pain.“

Obreon could see what she meant and it was horrifying. A mangled and bloody lump of flesh was tied to the bars by a thick rope. It's arms were stretched out, bound at the wrists, yet the left arm was missing a hand. The creature was wearing a blood-stained white robe, now ripped and tattered. The spawn's hair was still in a braid, but loose and disheveled. It was ripping the ropes and squirming around like an eel on a frying pan. It looked absolutely feral, unhinged even, grunting and groaning, hissing and dribbling saliva like it was diseased.

Obreon walked closer, trying to dissect the situation.

„Unlock the cell for me.“ He said.

„Are you sure? It can be dangerous.“ The elf warrior asked.

„I'm prepared. You can wait behind the door. I need to examine this creature privately.“

„As you wish.“ The elf woman unlocked the door and let him in. Then she walked out the room with the other Watch member and shut the door.

Obreon waited for them to be gone before coming closer to Adriel. The spawn's red eyes were unfocused and tormented, his face was bloody and ripped – he was missing his right cheek. There were also several bite wounds on all of his limbs.

„Shh, it's alright now. I'm here.“ Obreon whispered and Adriel's red eyes snapped to him. His body undulated in pain.

„Can you talk?“ He asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Adriel shook his head, his body shuddered.

Obreon nodded.

„You were captured, weren't you? By how many people? One? Two?“

Adriel shook his head at the word „one“, but nodded spasmodically at the „two“.

„Was one of these men extremely tall? Black hair? Blue eyes?“

Adriel nodded again.

Obreon sighed, he knew the cause of Adriel's strange behavior. It was the result of being forced to do something that went against the rules. Adriel was likely compelled to never leave the castle and the yard. Yet he was kidnapped and dragged away against his will. His body was fighting hard to escape and return to the castle. Being unable to leave must've been causing him agonizing pain. He was also compelled to be incapable of speaking and his feeble nodding was only possible because they were the spawn of a same master.

Obreon rubbed his neck and paced around, his brain was working at lightning speed. He had to clean up this mess. The Watch will be submitting a report regarding this event and Crow's Call will be mentioned there. There were witnesses and he was lucky that nobody had recognized the former vampire hunter.

Obreon walked up to Adriel and cupped his cheek.

„I'm sorry that this happened to you. I will take you out of this place, but i must put you to sleep. Understand?“

Adriel looked into his eyes and nodded.

„Very well. Sleep tight.“ Obreon covered his forehead and started chanting. His spell worked fast and the mangled body fell limp. Obreon untied him from the bars and hung his body over his shoulder. He exited the room and was met with astonishment.

„I'm taking him. You'll send the report to me and no one else. I'll dispose of the spawn and this event should not travel, is it clear? I don't want any rumors spreading around.“

„Yes, my lord.“ The elf woman bowed and her subordinate smacked his hand to his chest.

„It is understood, my lord.“

„Keep me updated.“ Obreon smiled and walked out.

He turned the corner and cast an invisibility spell over them both. He could've sent Adriel back to their home, but promised to keep his new family informed. Something in his gut told him that Astarion and Arsenia might want to deal with Adriel face-to-face. If there was going to be violence, then it better be directed at Adriel not him. Besides, he wanted to see the punishment. ♦

We were back in the living-room, drinking wine and listening to music. Oneressa sent us a gramophone and a collection of wax cylinders. The lady of the house had to return to her duties and we had the whole evening to ourselves. I was sketching Astarion again. He looked effortlessly beautiful with a book on his lap and a glass of wine in his hand. He praised the selection in the ladyship's library. My sketch was nearly finished when a loud bang echoed in our bedroom. I turned to our bedroom door and Astarion shut his book carefully, glaring in the same direction. The door creaked open slowly but nobody was there. Footsteps walked in our direction, the air shimmered and the spell dissipated.

Obreon was standing before us, holding a lifeless body over his shoulder.

„It seems your enemies are not wasting time,“ he said letting the body slide on the floor.

I stood up and walked over, pressed my foot against the bloody cheek and pushed it to the side. Adriel was badly mauled, coated in bitemarks and missing a hand.

„Oh dear,“ Astarion clicked his tongue with a grimace of disgust. „Come on, enlighten us.“

Obreon gave us a short but incredibly detailed review of the events. I was gobsmacked, Cornelis had no shame and he certainly feared no gods, either.

„I will destroy their report, of course, and if anyone ever brings it up i'll say that i killed that spawn. That the interrogation gave me nothing and the spawn was incapable of speaking. He's quite bold, that thug of yours. At least Adriel confirmed it was him, he was with that dog trainer, the one with the two-headed ones.“ Obreon gestured midair.

„He's sending us a message. He's not giving up until we pay him off.“ I hissed „Fucking arsehole!“

„At least you're safe here.“ Obreon said helpfully.

„If we had been there these morons would be dead.“ Astarion snapped. „ Shit! What were they even doing? They know they can't win us, even their mutts wouldn't be enough to save them.“

„Inspecting? Hoping to kidnap Oneressa again? Who knows. It was an impulsive act and they took the opportunity.“ I was seething, we had missed a chance to fight them. To end this once and for all.

„Or they knew that we wouldn't be there.“ Astarion said smugly. „He's trying to pester us, put Oneressa in the spotlight. Now he knows that we have a spawn. He's testing us, he wants to see how far he can go before we are exposed.“

I stared at Adriel's limp body. Obreon was standing beside me, waiting patiently, excitedly, dare i say?

„Anyway, you did good, Obreon.“ Astarion's praise was so unexpected that we both stared at him.

The noble elf smiled and lowered his head to hide his joy.

„What should i do next?“ He asked with an ominous smile.

I tilted my head and looked at Astarion. He was staring at Adriel with a wrinkle of disgust upon his face.

„Well, we hoped to use him for sneaking around the city, which is pointless now because Cornelis saw his face.“ I sighed angrily. „I guess we have no use for him now.“

„He didn't even make a good guard dog,“ Astarion said. „Look at him, all of his hunting knowledge is gone. Being caught so easily is unforgivable. He was in a place of advantage.“

„It's settled then. I'm going to kill him.“ I stated coldly. A piece of me was glad that this was over, that i didn't have to see his face ever again. Or listen to his crap about tieflings and other humanoids.

„Can i watch?“ Obreon inquired gently.

I smiled widely and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, cuddling him and pushing my cheek against his face.

„Of course you can, my dear. We'll take him to the woods. Just make yourself invisible again, i'll carry you.“

Obreon's face lit up with a dark gleam. I felt so proud that i could kiss him.

Astarion sighed getting up from his seat and putting his book on the table.

„You're not leaving without me,“ he said. „We'll end this together.“

We shifted into our bat form and Obreon observed us in awe. Then he cast an invisibility spell over himself and we picked them both up, flying out the balcony.

We landed in the forest uphill. The snow was deep and undisturbed. We changed back and dropped Adriel in the snow. Obreon removed the spell and looked around. It was he who advised this place. We gathered around Adriel, he seemed so peaceful in his sleep.

„Wake him up,“ i asked and Obreon mumbled his spell. It sounded so elegant coming from him.

Adriel winced and thrashed around in the snow.

„You may relax, spawn.“ Astarion said with contempt.

Adriel's body stopped moving and he gasped for breath, then sat up and brought his arms to his face, staring at his bloody nub.

„Let him talk.“ I said and Astarion nodded.

Adriel looked down at his body and felt his face. His fingers caressed the exposed enamel of his teeth.

„Do you have anything to say?“ I asked.

He looked up at me, his gaze travelled between us with some sort of acceptance.

„Did Cornelis say anything?“ I barked louder this time.

„He said that he wasn't surprised that you're multiplying. He said that he will destroy your every spawn, hunt down every single person you care about. He said he will be your personal nightmare.“

I hissed loudly flashing my fangs.

„That clown! Does he think he can fight a pair of immortals?“ I growled in rage. „I will shove his ego so far up his a…“

„Why are we here?“ Adriel asked looking at Obreon.

„I think you know,“ the latter replied with a soft smile.

Adriel sighed and nodded to himself. His head dropped and he stared at his bare blood-stained feet. His nub of an arm rested on his thigh. My blood felt burning hot and i needed an outcome for my rage.

„Any last words, spawn?“ Astarion purred with a devilish smile.

Adriel looked up at us again.

„I feel sorry for all the spawn i killed. I know what they were feeling. It's an endless darkness, so deep and so hopeless. Full of hunger and loneliness.“

I grabbed his neck and lifted him off the ground. Then i balled my fist and punched through his rib cage. Adriel groaned weakly as my hand wrapped around his heart and yanked it out. It was so red and glossy in my palm, so small and so delicate. I crushed it, my claws pierced right through the muscle. I dropped that piece of meat and clamped Adriels's head, strained my arms and pulled his head straight off. I dropped the body and the head in the snow.

The nature was so silent. Adriel's eyes were glossy and open, staring into nothingness.

„He begged us to kill him. Now he finally got what he wanted.“ I said.

Obreon was staring at him unblinkingly, his face adorned by feverish excitement. Astarion stared at the bloody remains with a smug smirk.

„I ought to say that ''i hope he's in a better place'' but i don't really give a damn.“ The vampire chuckled.

„Step aside, i'll burn his remains.“ I held my left hand above Adriel and summoned a ball of fire. It descended on the body with a blazing inferno, melted the snow around him, ignited his hair and his tattered clothes. I kept my hand steady and increased the temperature of the fire stream until all the flesh was gone. Obreon picked up his heart and tossed it in the fire. It sizzled as it touched the heat. It ended quickly, even the earth below him was blackened and smoking. I smashed his charred skull with my foot.

I felt a sting of joy knowing that he was thinking about the spawn he had killed. He was finally able to understand their suffering. Though, he had not experienced even an ounce of what Astarion had been through, or other spawn before him. Even Cazador had been through hell. Adriel's suffering had finally ended.

Obreon touched my wrist and i glanced at him. His eyes were besotted.

„May i?“ He asked.

I nodded without knowing what he wanted.

Obreon pulled my hand to his mouth and started licking the blood from my fingers. He was so hungry, so aroused. His tongue coiled around my fingers, grazed my palm. Astarion watched with a grin. He was deeply amused.

„Did you like the execution?“ I asked Obreon.

„It was exceptional.“ The elf murmured passionately.

Astarion clasped Obreon's jaw and turned his face towards himself.

„This could've been you but you pulled yourself together.“ The vampire lord threatened with loving elegance. „You should be thankful that you're useful to us.“

Obreon wasn't afraid, he stared at his master with lust.

„I'm not against punishment, if i've earned it. You may use my body as you see fit.“ He smiled darkly. „Though, i must warn you that i find pleasure much more rewarding than pain.“

„You cheeky thing,“ Astarion grinned clenching his jaw. „You've gotten bold.“

Obreon smiled.

„Will you punish me for it?“

Astarion sighed and pushed Obreon's face away.

„Don't get your hopes up. You're here to serve, not to have fun.“

We had created a monster. I ran my hand down Obreon's side and grasped the bulge between his legs.

„Would you like a reward for your servitude?“ I cooed and Obreon's eyes darkened with desire.

„Yes, mistress,“ he mumbled and i opened the buttons on his pants, pulled out his cock and started rubbing his erection.

Our spawn gasped and clung to me, shivering from the need to cum. I rubbed him until he spilled his seed with an agonized groan. His seed landed on the scorched earth, right beside Adriel's femur.

Obreon tucked his member back in his pants. He was our plaything and i liked to remind him of that, not that that he would even object. Obreon liked the attention and i enjoyed seeing him orgasm. I cast a gust of wind and buried the bones under the snow. We changed shape and flew back to the manor, dropping Obreon nearby. When we were back in the living-room, and the gramophone was playing another dramatic aria, i picked up my drawing of Astarion and proceeded finishing it with a few lazy pencil strokes. I was improving fast or maybe i was simply too familiar with Astarion's face? My skills had grown and i felt a surge of satisfaction.

Astarion was reading his book and flipped a page.

„It seems that we have created a monster.“ I said. „He was practically beaming with joy when he brought Adriel.“

„The boy was hoping that we kill him. It was to be expected. Adriel gave him nothing but insults. He's enjoying his new kink for torture.“ Astarion replied without lifting his eyes from his book.

„We knew that not all spawn are going to be of equal quality. Some are destined to be duds.“ I grinned looking at my drawing.

„Quality over quantity, my flame.“ Astarion smiled. „We're building a collection of rarities and you shall be my curator.“ ♦

Obreon returned to the palace and hurried to his study. It was dark outside, yellow lantern light was decorating the streets with golden pearls. He couldn't stop thinking about the dog keeper. Finding him would be nearly impossible but there was always a possibility he'd get lucky.

„Could you be hiding in the reports somewhere?“ Obreon talked to himself as his nails were tapping the desk. „And what could be your crime? You strike me as someone who isn't afraid of breaking the law.“

Obreon pulled out a bottle from his desk and poured himself a glass. It was deer blood diluted with some other ingredients to stop it from coagulating. He sipped it as he walked around the room.

„You met a thug that was a newcomer and recruiting henchmen. You're moving among the shadowy crowd. I bet you're using your dogs to…“ Obreon's eyes lit up. „Dogs! That's it! Reports about animal attacks!“

Obreon rushed to the shelves and glided his hands over the stacked documents. He was doing his best to keep them organized but it would take hours of his time, possibly days. Obreon acted on a whim and success was not guaranteed, so he needed to broaden his search terms to kidnapping and murder. Giant dogs make ideal killing machines. The elf needed help and he knew of a perfect person to ask for such a thing. Obreon called a servant and sent after her.

Obreon started pulling out his documents and dividing them into neat piles. The knock on his door arrived faster than he had hoped and a figure dressed in white whisked in. It moved as a ghost, silently and weightlessly, the only indicator of its presence being the rustling of heavy skirts.

„What could be this urgent at this late hour?“ The lady glanced around the room curiously. „Hmm, did you lose something?“

„You could say that.“ Obreon smiled. „I'm looking for a nameless figure. The only thing i do know about him is that he is a dog keeper. His beasts are pretty noticeable, larger than normal and with two heads. I must sift through all these reports and i was hoping you might want to help me.“

The lady examined the thick stacks and lifted a few papers to have a peek.

„Is it for father?“ She asked indifferently.

„No, it's for me. I need to find this elf. So, will you help me?“

The lady warmed up as she smiled.

„Oh, why not. It's as close to power as i'm ever going to get. Moving papers around the desk. Besides, it's quality time. I hardly see you anymore now that you've become our father's assistant.“

„Thank you, Gwenllian.“ Obreon passed her a stack of papers with a loving smile.

Gwenllian gathered them in her arms and sat in an armchair by the window. She was a beauty with light silver hair and dark grey eyes. The lady appeared monocromatic in her white lacy gown. Her hair was unnaturally long, braided and fixed into an elaborate hairdo.

„What are we looking for then?“

„Animal attacks, both simple bites and those that ended in death. Sort kidnappings into a separate stack for later. We'll look at those if we find nothing else. And yes, it has been rather busy, i miss our quiet evenings.“

They breezed through papers together and the stack of animal attacks grew in size. There were more than he expected but the majority of them involved wild animals. Beasts of every kind that desired sustenance.

„Here's an interesting one,“ Gwenllian said picking up the document. „A shopkeeper was mauled by unknown beasts and found bleeding out on the street. His feet were missing but he was healed and he survived. He didn't press any charges and said that these were stray dogs.“

Obreon lifted his head from his documents and looked at his sister.

„We don't really have a problem with strays in this town. Any details?“

„The guard wrote in his notes that he thinks the man was hiding something. He seemed very standoffish and hesitant answering questions. He gave the most generic descriptions of the beasts, yet the Night Watch officer noted that the bite marks on his body were oddly parallel, as if mirroring each other on his legs.“

Obreon jumped up and rushed over to read the document himself. It was just what he had been looking for. „You're wonderful and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.“ Obreon kissed his sister's forehead and ran to the door.

„Are you leaving this late?“ She exclaimed.

„Duty calls! You may stay here and read if you don't mind the death and taxes. I'll clean up later.“

Obreon knew the man's address and he couldn't wait. He saddled a stag and took off into the night. The elf in question had a delicacy shop, he was living in the same building upstairs. Obreon tied his stag to the lantern post and walked to the back door, knocking violently. The owner let him wait in the cold.

„Who is it?“ A voice asked calmly.

„I'm one of the inspectors from the House of Justice who's been looking at your case. You're Enrold, the one who was attacked by stray dogs? I need to ask you a few questions.“

The door opened and a dark-haired elf was staring down at Obreon.

„It was closed, not to mention it happened a year and a half ago.“

„You're correct but we might have a few additional questions. I won't take too much of your time. May i come in?“

The elf seemed disinclined to comply, yet stepped aside eventually.

„Alright, i can't promise much but i can hear you out.“

Obreon thanked him as he walked inside. They both stood in the hallway of a beautiful home, it was clear that Enrold wouldn't be inviting him in for tea. Obreon wasn't going to beat around the bush either.

„Could you describe the beasts for me?“

„Two large hounds, gray or black. They jumped on me from behind, so forgive me if i struggle with details.“

„No distinguishing traits? Nothing unusual about those creatures?“

The elf narrowed his eyes.

„Can't say that i remember any.“

Obreon was in no mood to play games. His face stiffened as his amicable aura dissipated.

„I read your case report. You had mirroring bite marks on both legs and the majority of damage was focused on the front of your body. You were more than capable of seeing your attackers. You either answer these simple questions here or in the Watch's prison cell. Lets save ourselves some time, shall we? “

The elf crossed his arms whilst glaring at Obreon.

„These were giant two-headed dogs. Why does this matter?“

„Because we're looking for their owner.“

„I don't know him.“ Enrold was honest this time.

„Do you have any ideas why he sent his dogs after you?“

Enrold didn't answer and was simply staring at Obreon impatiently.

„Whatever happened isn't important to me and you are not in any kind of trouble. I can promise you that i'm not going to mention this in any sort of papers. I just need to know who the dog keeper is.“

„I told you, i don't know him. That's the truth.“ The elf shrugged.

„And yet someone sent him to get you. Was he hired to hurt you?“

Enrold grabbed the door handle.

„I think it's time for you to leave.“

Obreon clamped the man's hand and squeezed it tightly against the metal. Enrold's facial muscled twitched as they stared at each other.

„You're either going to tell me everything right now or i'll arrest you for perverting the course of justice, and whatever you're hiding will be written down and pinned to the board in front of the House of Justice. Once the Watch is done beating it out of you.“

Enrold yanked his hand away and rubbed his sore flesh. Obreon was staring at the elf without blinking, with barely contained animosity. Enrold uttered a weary sigh and something in his stone-like demeanor finally gave in.

„Fine, so be it. A year or so ago i was delivering cargo with my business partner and a few bodyguards. Our wagon was travelling through a lonely road in the mountains. We came across a toppled wagon on the road, all of its passengers were killed and eaten. Horses gone. We inspected it and found it to be a delivery wagon full of goods. It was a hot day in the middle of nowhere and so we collected everything. Took it back with us and i sold it in my shop. Some time later a merchant approached me, he said he saw his goods in my shop and that one of his wagons hadn't reached the city. He demanded i pay him and i denied everything. He threatened me and a few days later i was attacked. I paid him off later so this matter is all settled.“

„What's his name?“ Obreon asked trying to contain his wretched grin.

Obreon was moving quickly along the stone wall, cloaked by an invisibility spell. He had grown to appreciate the ability to climb walls. Becoming immortal did come with challenges but it also had its upsides. The elf climbed the wall like a spider, squatted at the top to examine his surroundings and jumped down into the yard. He landed with feline grace and jogged across the premises. Climbing to the balcony took no effort at all and he was pleased to find the door unlocked. The bedroom was empty, warm and lit by the fireplace. The curtains on the bed were pulled apart carelessly, the covers were wrinkled.

Entering the bedroom of his creators felt so intimate, yet also exciting and oddly comforting – he knew that he was wanted. The first few times after his transformation had been tough and he still remembered the pressure of Astarion's hand around his throat. It was the moment that Obreon realized he had to take control over his own life, or others will do it for him. As much as Obreon feared – and loathed – his maker in that moment it was undeniable that he was right. Obreon had been careless, he had potential that he was simply wasting away by hiding in his father's shadow.

There was another thing that he struggled accepting – the thrilling sensation of Astarion's hand against his neck. The ease the vampire had tossed him around with on that dreadful night with was frightening, yet a part of him was aroused by danger, by the act of being used. It took him a while to make peace with his desires but he was never the same after. It was like something finally clicked into place. Obreon was learning about himself, peering into his own shadow. His makers, his lovers, his new family – they accepted him as he was.

Even if Astarion liked reminding him about his low position in their vampire lair Obreon knew they couldn't do without him. He was their diamond. Further more, he got twisted satisfaction out of pushing his boundaries with Astarion. There was nothing left in this world that scared him, he had seen enough horrors at home. And Arsenia, that cruel seductress made him lose the remnants of his dignity. Her hands provided comfort and ecstasy. Both vampires enticed him with forceful magnetism. He was planning to win them over and make them adore him. He – the oldest son of the Avnegg's – was great at being exceptional.

Obreon opened the bedroom door and peeked into the living-room. The merciless couple was dancing, gliding elegantly across the floor. Obreon found their music choice odd, it was a dramatic aria singing about death and vengeance, yet an empty wine bottle on the table explained everything. Arsenia was so much taller than Astarion but it didn't stop the latter from leading. It was an unnerving, yet charming scene, from his standpoint.

Obreon sighed – his masters were having fun after he'd been the one hard at work. He noticed a second half-open bottle of wine and made his way to his treat. He took the nearest glass, filled it up and sat on the settee, purposely ignoring the fact the glass had been used. He drank, wondering whose lips had touched the glass before him.

Obreon got comfortable and observed the couple, he wasn't going to speak until he was noticed, fully enjoying his moment of serenity.

„Did you come for a cuddle, Obreon?“ Astarion voice melded with the screeching aria in the strangest of ways.

„I might've earned one tonight. I have a lead on your dog keeper.“

The dancing couple twirled towards the settee, stopping behind it. Astarion dug his nails into Arsenia's waist and reached up to her lips. The tall lady leaned down and they shared the sweetest kiss imaginable, it was almost unnatural given the circumstance. The couple circled the piece of furniture and sat down next to Obreon, one on the right, the other to the left of him. Obreon sipped his wine to hide how much he enjoyed being close to them.

„Were you working late? Even the undead need to rest,“ Arsenia spoke as she placed her hand on his knee. His flesh burned under her touch.

„What did you find then?“ Astarion looked directly at him, intense and curious. That look in his eyes made Obreon's insides melt and mingle.

„I kept thinking about his dogs and then it dawned on me that there might be something about it in my documents. The Watch reports, to be precise.“

Obreon explained what he was looking for and what he had found, leaving out his sister. Then he spoke about his visit to the shop owner's house and what he had found out there. Arsenia's hand was stroking him the entire time and he found it incredibly soothing.

„The merchant's name is Roff Mirth, he has a shop in the upper city. He gave me his address. The man lives in a house nearby.“

„Well done, Obreon, i guess you want to be praised?“ Astarion spoke in an alluring tone. „Arsenia already gave you your treat so it's all you're going to get today.“

Obreon could see approvement in his master's eyes and it was enough, however, he expected to be rewarded for his efforts later on.

„I was hoping you might want to visit his house together. He's not going to admit hiring thugs and maiming foes easily.“ Obreon said cordially.

„You did a spendid job with the other one. Can't you handle this by yourself?“ Astarion raised an eyebrow, taunting him.

„I can't show my face at every house i go to, it's unwise of me. Besides, a pair of vampires will do the job much quicker. Don't you want to look after your spawn? Must i remind you there's a maniac on the loose.“

Astarion looked at Obreon with a smug smirk and a glint of amusement in his eyes.

„Does this man have a wife? Children?“ Arsenia asked smiling. „Pets?“

„No, he lives alone as far as i know. He might have a dog, however.“

„I hope it's friendly, for its sake.“ Arsenia said. „Come on, beloved, lets ruin his beauty sleep. I think it's lovely that our spawn wants to spend time with us.“

„It is, my dear, but you'll regret it the day he starts sleeping on our bedside rug.“

„I'm not that clingy,“ Obreon mumbled, suddenly insecure about his plan.

„Don't worry, i would never let him sleep on the floor. I like to cuddle,“ Arsenia said squeezing Obreon's thigh and the latter nearly choked on his wine.

Astarion took the glass from their spawn's hand.

„It's mine, but since it doesn't seem to be bothering you…“ The vampire drank the whole glass and spat the wine back in, passing the ruined drink to Obreon.

He could feel the burning gazes of his masters on his skin, meanwhile the static of arousal was coursing through his body. He wasn't even disgusted. Obreon brought the glass closer, he could see the imprint of Astarion's lips on the rim. He pushed his mouth against the glass and finished the wine.

„I prefer my saliva directly from the source, but thank you.“ Obreon said, regretting it immediately after. Was it too straightforward, too honest, too bold? He shouldn't be drinking in their presence.

Arsenia laughed joyfully and her hand moved up his leg. Obreon struggled to focus, carried away by the current of desire.

„Not just saliva, dear boy, you'd drink anything from the source.“ Astrion purred seductively.

It appears his masters were in a good mood after their kill. Astarion picked up the bottle and took a gulp, filling his mouth with alcohol. Then he turned Obreon's face towards himself and kissed him. It was a whirlpool of sensations and Obreon opened his mouth wide to claim his drink. Once he had swallowed the wine he was rewarded with a passionate kiss and his head became devoid of any thoughts. He could hear Arsenia sucking her lower lip with gusto.

Astarion ended their kiss and held their spawn's face in admiration. „You're right, my flame. I like his clinginess. Look at him – so eager to serve, so yearning to please.“ He leaned closer to Obreon as he whispered. „So adamant to receive.“

The vampire pushed Obreon's face away and the spawn wiped his lips, trying to snap out of his spell. He loved it when his masters played with him but it tended to have severe side effects, like him losing all interest to the outside world and forgetting the concept of time.

Arsenia chuckled beside him and caressed Obreon's cheek.

„Stop it, beloved, you're turning me on and it's making me want to eviscerate. Lets pay our suspect a visit now that i'm burning up.“

„Mm, you and me both, darling. Lets have ourselves a date night.“ Astarion cooed leaning over to Arsenia and they kissed in front of Obreon's face. The elf watched them hungrily and something stirred in the back of his head. Weren't they supposed to be going somewhere tonight? ♦

We got dressed and Obreon waited for us in the living-room. Our clothing choice was simple and dark-colored, these were our so-called thug clothes. I couldn't stop laughing at how easily distracted Obreon was. Poor thing was staring into the ether, drinking solemnly out of Astarion's glass. His affection pleased me. He was so sweet and so lonely. We changed into bats and carried Obreon to the merchant's house. It was in a nice neighborhood, the buildings were maintained and elaborate. We changed shape at the back of the house, in a dark alleyway.

„I think you'll be better off breaking in. There's no point in being nice.“ Obreon said in a low voice.

„Is that your professional opinion, lord council member?“ Astarion grinned.

„Yes, in fact.“ Obreon stated. „I don't want him to cause a scene.“

„Don't worry, sweetie, he'll never get a chance to do it.“ I brushed Obreon's head and it coerced a smile out of him. I moved to the door inspecting it, it was made of thick wood and so was the door frame. I clenched the doornob and pushed my shoulder against the door. The door frame split open on the inside as the latch bolt ripped through the wood. It made a loud sound so we had to be quick. I pushed the door open, we slipped inside and i shut it behind me, propping a small table against it so it would remain closed.

If the merchant was awake he must've heard us breaking in. I inspected the lower floor quickly and found no trace of life. I made my way to the grand staircase to check the upper floor, when the shadows on the upper landing started moving and a large dog stepped out of the darkness. It dropped its head and snarled at me, then took off running.

I acted on instinct and reached out to the beast through my vampiric connection. The dog ran down the stairs and stopped in front of me, staring at us with brown beady eyes. Suddenly it perked its ears back up and wagged its tail. I reached out and patted its head. If i was able to charm wolves then there was no reason why it shouldn't work on their relatives.

I ran up the stairs, skipping a row at a time, Astarion and Obreon following me closely. I barely stepped on the landing when an arrow flew past me, hitting the wall beside my shoulder. A short man was standing in a dark doorway, pointing a crossbow at me. I channeled my magic and his crossbow burst into flames. The merchant gasped and dropped it. I ran towards him but the man jumped into a room, slamming the door shut in front of me.

I kicked the door open with my foot and stormed inside. The merchant was trying to escape through the window but i pulled him away and threw him on the floor. The merchant sat up, staring at us. Astarion lingered in the doorway, arms crossed, and Obreon kept to the shadows behind him.

„Take whatever you want, just leave me be.“ The merchant blurted out.

„How generous.“ I sneered. „I bet you have a safe somewhere in this lovely villa?“ I waved my finger. „I have a feeling you're the sort of person that values their well-being over money, hmm?“

The man nodded, as sweat stains were spreading on his his night clothes.

„True! Very true! It's downstairs, behind a painting of a horse. The code is..“ He gave us the code and i snapped my fingers at Obreon.

„Take everything, sweetie.“

Obreon turned around and hurried down the stairs. I switched my full attention back to the man on the floor. I paced around, my tail lashing around excitedly.

„So, you live alone? Such wealth and you're unwilling to share it, tsk, tsk.“

The man appeared confused, he glanced at Astarion, who was leaning against the doorway.

„Umm, i-m-m divorced.“ He stuttered.

„Why didn't it work out? Were you working too much and neglecting your spouse? Did your spouse ask too much? Help me pass the time.“

The man looked down shamefully.

„I cheated.“ He mumbled.

„What?!“ I barked out.

„I c-cheated.“ He repeated himself hesitantly. „It's none of y-y…“ He was going to say it's none of your business, but the glare in my eyes made him choke on his words.

„A cheater…how revolting.“ I gloated.

Astarion was shaking his head in the doorway.

Obreon was back with a heavy cloth bag and he chimed it to confirm that our loot was claimed successfully. He was still keeping to the shadows and Astarion turned to peek inside the bag, unable to tame his curiosity. I heard the ringing of metal as his hand fumbled the bag.

„That's quite a lot of gold for a merchant with your kind of business. Who on earth needs this many bracelets? And earrings, too?! Oh dear!“ He grumbled to himself.

„Do you hand these out as gifts for the ladies?“ I grinned. „Or…did you strip everything from your spouse when they left?“

The merchant gulped, his eyes were jumping around.

„Both,“ he said.

He was certainly a greedy and an unpleasant man.

„Actually, we're here to inquire you about someone you hired.“ I squatted down next to him. „The robbery is just a bonus. You hired someone to teach a shopkeeper named Enrold a lesson. Someone with two-headed dogs. It happened about a year ago but i think you remember. I want to know his name and where i can find him.“

The merchant looked at me with a nervous frown.

„Did he send you? Was it him? Enrold?“

„No, we're just looking for an old friend. So, who is he?“

„He calls himself Chasyl, he does odd jobs. Someone recommended him in the Longhorn Inn.“

„Is it all? I have a feeling you're hiding something from me and i don't think its very wise….“ I pressed my claws deep into his thigh and dragged my hand down his leg. „In your situation.“

The merchant screamed and scooted away like a wounded animal.

„I swear i'm not! The innkeeper knows people. He connected us. I met him twice, gave him the coin and it was done. I don't know anything else!“

„Where did you meet?“

„In the inn and alleyway. That was all, all, i swear.“ He panted while holding his bleeding leg, overall a moist, slobbery mess.

„Fine, i believe you. You were really helpful.“ I smiled and the man stared at me intensely. The sweat from his forehead was running down his face and it filled me with disgust. It was a good thing we didn't need witnesses. I stood up, kicked him to the floor and slammed my foot down on the crown of his head. His skull collapsed with a loud crunching sound, it's contents splattering on the floor like a red meaty halo.

I heard the loot bag chiming in the background as Obreon pushed past Astarion and walked to the corpse. He examined it with a frown.

„Was this necessary?“ He asked calmly.

„''Leave no witnesses'' is the best tactic to have. Besides, he was a lousy husband and a criminal.“ I walked to the carpet and started rubbing the blood off my foot.

„You're not wrong…however…“ Obreon was hesitating. It must've been a conflict of interests he hadn't worked through yet.

Astarion sauntered over with gleaming eyes.

„My love, your strength was incredible before but it has only grown since i turned you. Your viciousness has as well. My darkest desire, you're ruthless.“ The vampire purred as he ran his hand up my waist. The primal adoration in his eyes sent shivers down my spine. I snatched him by his waist, lifted him up and pulled him into a visceral kiss. Astarion wrapped his arms around me and time stopped moving.

Obreon was standing beside the corpse and watching us with a look of concern. The dog padded into the room, sniffed his master's corpse and whimpered. Obreon petted its head and the dog wagged its tail.

I was suddenly very aware that something was patting my hip. I cracked an eye open and looked down to see Obreon trying to catch our attention. He was brushing me with an assertive look in his eyes.

„I hate to interrupt you but we must leave. The inn he spoke about is still open. We must catch this guy.“

I ended our kiss, lowering Astarion back to the floor.

„Obreon's right.“ I said, glancing at the dog who was licking his master's blood off the floor. „The dog is coming with us.“

„Darling…“ Astarion deepened his voice to disagree but i squeezed his face and coated his cheeks with a rain of kisses.

„I'll be the one walking it, i promise. Besides, we might have even more dogs by the end of this night.“

I released his baffled face and walked out the room, whistling to the dog to follow me.

The Longhorn Inn was located in the lower city and situated inside a beautiful robust stone building. A few stags and horses were tied to its front and two lanterns on either side of its door were brightly lit. Obreon conjured himself an invisibility spell and observed our discussing with the loot bag hanging over his shoulder.

„I think you're the one who should chat up the innkeeper. We're going to wait at the back, under an invisibility spell.“

Astarion pressed his lips together while looking moderately annoyed.

„All this hard work ascending and slaughtering only to be back in the smelly bar again.“ He groaned.

„You can pass for a rich man, who's out for revenge, with all your fancy talk and walk. If Chasyl sees someone like me, he'll know he's in trouble.“ I explained. „And Obreon is risking too much by showing his face at all.“

„Alright, it's fine. I'll do it.“ He sighed tiredly.

„What? Were you expecting to sit in a chair for the next 200 years and grow moss between your toes? I don't think so. Now, less sulking, my dove! Lazy vampires don't conquer worlds!“

Astarion sent me a death stare and got moving. I slapped him on the rear for encouragement, then cast the spell over myself. The dog sat down near the entrance and watched us with an adoring stare. We followed the vampire and crept inside after he pushed the door wide open. The inn was surprisingly full, many patrons were visibly intoxicated. We moved around the tables and hid near the wall. Astarion rested his arms on the bar stand and the handsome orc innkeeper drifted up to him.

„What can i get you?“

„A glass of red wine.“ Astarion said and we exchanged a look with Obreon. He was meant to play a distressed nobleman.

The innkeeper handed him a simple wine glass and Astarion brought it to his lips.

„I'm looking for someone called Chasyl.“ He added, leaning closer to the orc with a meaningful smile.

The innkeeper looked at him calmly.

„He isn't here today. Sorry about that.“

„But he does come here, right?“

„Pretty often, yes.“ The orc smiled leaning against the stand.

„Well, i really need to meet him. I'm in a bit of a pickle, you see.“ Astarion pulled a handful of coins from his pocket and slid them across the wooden surface. „I'll pay you for your troubles.“

The innkeeper nodded with amusement.

„Well, you can either come tomorrow and try again or…“

Astarion held the glass of wine in front of his mouth, whilst his eyes caressed the innkeeper.

„..or?“

The orc shook his head as a smile lit up his face.

„I don't know where he lives, however, i have a pretty good idea. You might want to have a leisurely walk around the neighborhood and keep an ear out for barking.“

„Wonderful, i was feeling sleepless tonight. Where should i walk on such a beautiful night?“

„I have seen him on Mist Street. I visit the area often and he's always around.“

Astarion finished his wine and handed the orc a few more coins.

„Thank you for your help.“

He turned around and started heading to the door. We scurried along the wall, following him like a shadow.

„You haven't lost an ounce of your charm,“ i grinned as we met up behind the establishment. „You're truly blessed in the undressing-you-with-my-eyes department.“

„That was quite impressive,“ Obreon noted flirtatiously. He appreciated a good performance, being an elf of good taste and all.

Astarion gave us both a weary look and swatted at the air. „That's enough! Lets find that dog lover already.“

Our dog wagged its tail looking up at his new master. Astarion squatted down to pet his head.

„Your relatives have been very naughty today and their master will be paying for the damages. Yes, he will.“

The dog was trying to lick his hands and i could bet money that i saw Astarion smile.

Mist Street was on the outskirts of town, the area being quite sparsely populated by modest houses. The town wall here was half eroded into rubble and half melding with the natural exposed rock of a nearby mountain. A small frozen waterfall was reaching down the layered rock behind the stone wall. The ice formed a peculiar dagger-like display on the cliffside. The area was quite beautiful, it appeared so wild compared to the clean and organized city streets. Each house was surrounded by a smaller stone wall built without any binding material. Stone was simply layered on top of one another, fitted my shape and size.

We were walking around slowly, my arm in the crook of Astarion's elbow. Obreon was holding his hands behind his back, the dog was sniffing around and digging in the snow.

„This part of the city feels very different,“ i said, watching our dog digging out a mouse and thrashing it around in its mouth.

„Indeed, the wall could use some mending. This part is quite old.“ Obreon explained.

We passed a house with two snowmen in the yard with crooked sticks as arms. A hare was hiding in the bushes nearby, staring at us with its bulging eyes.

„It may look desolate now but all these houses are occupied.“ Obreon explained. „The lands attacked to each property are pretty large, many families are moving here because of it. You have space to grow vegetables, keep chickens and other small animals. It's quite nice in the summer.“

A deer ran across the road, briefly staring at us with its glowing eyes.

„You know a lot about this city.“ I noted playfully.

Obreon looked away with a warm smile on his lips.

„I love my city, that's all.“

„Have you ever wanted to see the world?“ I asked.

Obreon looked into the distance with a wistful stare.

„I have been around. Visited cities nearby, seen my distant family.“

„I meant going a lot further than that. Outside this part of the world. Maybe to a place without snow.“

Obreon seemed uncomfortable with the idea.

„I'm not really sure, i don't think i'd like it. This place is dear to me. What is so special about faraway places that we don't have here?“

A loud growling noise wafted through the frozen air. The deer we saw earlier pounced over a crude stone wall and disappeared into the darkness.

„I think we found our log lover,“ Astarion whispered.

He stepped lightly towards a certain house and eight glowing eyes glared back at us from the darkness. I could finally see the beasts, two hounds were laying beside the building, chained to the stone wall.

„I need you to climb on the roof.“ I said to our spawn. „Make sure our man doesn't escape. We will take the beasts.“

Obreon nodded and i let go of Astarion's arm. I moved closer to the stone wall and the growling became louder. I reached out to the beasts and tried to break through to their minds. A surge of energy ran through my body and the beasts fell silent. They examined us curiously, moving their ears and sniffing the air. Obreon was climbing the wall and it didn't take long to get in position.

We walked to the front door and i pressed my ear against the wood. All i could hear was total silence. I grabbed the door handle and pulled. The metal base burst through the wood and i threw it aside. I managed to crack the door open just enough to peer inside when a giant mass jumped at me, pushed the door wide open and pinned me to the ground. It was one of Chasyl's beasts and both of its heads were trying to claim a piece of me.

I had no time to think, my left hand clasped the left snout and my right hand held the right one. The beast was strong, it took all of my focus to keep its jaws away from my face. The creatures started shaking its heads to get rid of me when Astarion leaped onto his back and thrust his dagger deep into its ribs.

The beast whimpered but didn't stop its attempts at mauling me, so Astarion pulled out his dagger and stabbed the creature again, and again, and again. until it finally fell to its side and gave up the ghost. I jumped back to my feet and rushed into the dark hallway. A familiar noise rung through the darkness, a sound of something discharging, and Astarion groaned beside me. My hands lit up with fire and i gazed into the absolute darkness. A figure was crouching under a table in the living-room with a crossbow in its hand.

I thrust a fireball at the table and it burst into flames. The figure rolled and scurried away, i was unable to see where he had gone because of a wall. I ran to the living-room and right as i turned the corner Chasyl shot me in the hip. Rage boiled me from the inside and my surroundings burst into flames. Fire licked the floor and furniture, climbed up the walls. The half elf was standing next to a wall, a window behind him. His crossbow pointed at my face and he discharged his arrow.

I stooped down and the arrow flew over my head. Temperature around me was increasing, making the air shimmer, i aimed my hands at Chasyl and he was engulfed by flames in a matter of seconds. The half elf screamed, running around the room aimlessly, then jumped out the window. I turned on my heels and rushed out the door, circling the house. When i reached the back i saw that there was nothing to chase after. Chasyl was lying in the snow, his red flesh smouldering in the cold as his two hounds were eating his legs. He was still alive, but barely. I could see his eyes turning to look at me.

„You have one chance to tell me where Cornelis is. To lighten your conscience before death.“ I said sternly.

One of his beasts grabbed his calf and ripped off his leg. The blood, as well as, the smell of cooked meat enticed the creatures further and the second beast lunged at the man's neck. The light in Chasyl's eyes dimmed and he bled out in the snow. I stood and watched as his beloved pets were devouring him, meanwhile the house was slowly consumed by flames. Astarion and Obreon joined me at this gruesome scene.

„We must leave. Now.“ Obreon urged us.

„He's right, darling.“ Astarion sighed and i inspected his wounds. He was shot in the stomach, the arrow still sticking out of him.

„Obreon, make us invisible.“ I asked, moving to the stone wall that the beasts were chained to. Obreon cast the spell and i ripped both chains out of the wall. The beasts were eating their master hungrily and i proceeded to open the collars around their necks.

A small whimper accompanied us as the merchant's dog jogged up to Astarion and nuzzled his leg. He picked the dog up and held him in his armpit. We changed shape, picked up Obreon, and the two dogs, and flew away.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 19

The Way the World Ends, Part 3

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged; regardless of rating, minors DNI)

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.9k

Warnings and tags: angst; suspense; canon-typical violence; someone gets punched; blood and injury; language.

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Echo arrives in Pabu; the team disagrees about how to proceed.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings, "Double, Double Boil and Trouble" (part 2 here) and "Do It Again," but all the fics can be read as stand-alones.

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…This is the way the world ends…

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

To say Pabu was beautiful would be grossly inadequate: it was the most idyllic place Echo had ever seen, and he’d seen a kriffing lot of the galaxy. He didn’t know if a worse hell existed than Skako Minor, but it was difficult to imagine a heaven that was lovelier than Pabu. He wished Riyo could have been there with him to see it.

It felt very strange to sit in the sunshine and enjoy Shep Hazard’s feast, to drink whatever fruity cocktail the mayor had made from the fermented tropical fruit that grew on their island—all while conscious that the rest of his team was either stuck in that dingy underworld garage or out on missions that were equally likely to end in gruesome disaster as success. He didn’t blame Hunter for wanting to keep the rest of the Batch—and particularly Omega—safe in this paradise.

Despite all that, Echo didn’t regret his decision to join Rex for even a second. The team’s success at Balmorra had only reaffirmed that he’d made the right call. But he couldn’t deny that it was very good to see his family again. Hunter made it more than clear that Echo would be welcome to join them, and if he were honest with himself, Echo admitted that it was a tempting prospect: a peaceful life in this beautiful place, surrounded by the people who were closest to him.

But what about the others? The ones who weren’t lucky enough to have found peace and safety?

“Echo, you've seen the power you're up against,” Hunter said. “You can't defeat them.”

“It's not about that,” Echo insisted. “It's about fighting for our brothers.”

“I understand why you're doing this,” Hunter sighed, “but when will it be enough?”

Echo didn’t reply immediately, but the unspoken words hovered between them nonetheless: Not yet.

“We have to tell him,” Fireball insisted.

“What good would it do?” Rex asked. “We need to get that data spike decrypted. If we tell Echo now, he’ll want to join in the search. We have to think about the bigger picture.”

“We could use some karking help with the search,” Nemec pointed out. “We still don’t know where Cerra is or even who took her.”

“My contact is looking into it,” Rex insisted. “If she’s in Imperial custody, we should know within a day or two.”

“And what if she isn’t?” Fireball asked. “How are we supposed to find her when we have no actionable intel?”

Riyo’s stomach churned. She couldn’t even believe they were having this conversation. Rex’s jaw was set firmly, but she could see the torment and self-doubt that swirled in his eyes.

“What if the situation were reversed?” she asked Rex. “If Echo knew something had happened to Cerra, and he decided to keep it from you?”

“I’d say he made the right decision,” Rex said. “The mission comes first.”

“That’s a kriffin’ lie,” Gregor said. “You’d burn the galaxy to the ground.”

“And what makes you say that?” Rex demanded harshly.

Gregor stared at Rex without flinching. “Because that’s what I’d do.”

“I have to agree,” Riyo said. “I’m sorry, Rex. If you don’t comm Echo, I will.”

Rex sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “Just… Give me a day. If I don’t hear back from my contact by then, I’ll comm Echo myself.”

“And what if you hear back?” Gregor asked.

Rex didn’t respond, and Riyo knew he was considering the possibility that his contact wouldn’t have any information.

“Then we’ll make a decision at that point,” she said decisively. 

Rex met her eyes and nodded in acknowledgment. She wasn’t particularly thrilled, but she understood Rex’s reservations. There was really nothing Echo could do right now, and his mission was important. But the minute they had a shred of intel, she would comm him—Rex and his bigger picture be damned.

“Previous transfer records recovered from the ship's logs list other clone prisoners detained by the Advanced Science Division,” Tech said, “and Crosshair is one of them.”

Wrecker spoke the thought that sprang to all of their minds: “You mean Crosshair turned on the Empire?”

Echo stared at Tech. If this were true, it could change everything. Crosshair had chosen the Empire, and he’d claimed to have done it without the influence of his inhibitor chip. Echo harbored private doubts that Crosshair’s chip had truly been removed, even if he thought it had. Regardless, if Crosshair had a change of heart about the Empire, that meant that there was hope that he would be willing to come back to the squad. Echo had lost too many brothers already. If there was the slightest chance that he could save Crosshair, he had to do it.

Tech and Echo threw themselves into the task of combing through the data he’d recovered from the Gozanti, and then into hunting down any leads they could find on Hemlock and the Advanced Science Division in Republic and Imperial records. There was precious little, and after an exhaustive search, Echo sent a message to Rex asking for assistance. 

Echo was surprised by how quickly Rex commed him back. He answered the call aboard the Remora; better for everyone involved if the Batch knew as little as possible about the details of Rex’s operations. The more they knew, the bigger the targets on their backs would grow.

“Echo,” Rex greeted him without preamble. “My contact came through with limited intel on your Dr. Hemlock, but we do know that he’s set to travel to Eriadu in two rotations.”

“That’s not much time,” Echo frowned. “What’s he doing there?”

“Attending some sort of summit at Tarkin’s compound with a bunch of Imperials. Not sure who else will be there, but given how classified it is, safe to say they’re all high-level officials.”

Echo grunted. “Tight security, then. Couldn’t take it with an army, but maybe a strike team could infil. Anything else?”

Rex shook his head, his expression troubled. “Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to make it seem like Hemlock doesn’t exist. They’re not going to be happy to see a squad of wanted fugitives tracking him down.”

“We don’t have a choice. If he has Crosshair, we have to get him back,” Echo said firmly. “He’s our brother. Besides, Hemlock is holding other clones, too.”

“I understand,” Rex replied, but doubt clouded his eyes.

“We could use some backup,” Echo observed. 

“I wish I could send it,” Rex said. “Echo… there’s something you need to know.”

“What is it?” Echo asked. “Riyo—”

“She’s all right,” Rex said. “It’s about Cerra.”

Echo’s short-lived relief spiraled into a sense of foreboding. “What happened?”

“She went missing on an extraction mission. We still don’t know who took her.”

“I’m coming back,” Echo said flatly.

“Negative,” Rex replied, his voice stern. “The whole team on Coruscant is working on it. Your mission is too important; we have no idea if or when we’ll get another lead on Hemlock.”

“Kriff Hemlock—” Echo began.

“Cerra would want you to put the mission first,” Rex interrupted. “You know it’s true.”

“Cerra has a karkin’ death wish!” Echo snapped. “She’s been looking for an excuse to self-destruct since I met her.”

“We won’t let that happen. We will find her. I need you to stay focused on your mission. We can’t spare the men for Eriadu, and we couldn’t make it in time anyway. It has to be you, Echo. We’re counting on you.”

Echo sat alone in the Remora for a long moment after Rex ended the holocom. He knew Rex was right, but it didn’t ease the sick feeling of dread when he thought about Cerra. Dank farrik, he’d only just begun to get through to her, and now he might have lost her for good—his last link to Fives.

The mission comes first.

He’d get his brother back first, and if the team hadn’t found Cerra by then, he swore by the Force he’d get his sister back, too. 

Cerra awoke to the familiar gray walls of a Venator brig. She’d never been held in one before, but she’d seen them plenty of times during her years of service. She had no idea how much time had passed or even which Venator she was on. Her body ached, and hunger gnawed at her stomach. She took a quick stock of her situation.

Naturally, she’d been stripped of her weapons and armor, which was karking annoying. It was just her luck to lose her armor on the very first mission after she finished the modifications she’d been working on with Echo. The loss of the blasters cut deeper. Jesse had customized them for her specially years before, and they were all she had left from him. Even if she managed to escape, the odds were spectacularly bad that she would be able to find them on the Venator, if they’d even made it aboard.

That was assuming she lived long enough to escape. She had no delusions about her chances: she was being kept alive long enough to interrogate. Once they’d ripped the answers out of her, she would be terminated and jettisoned with the rest of the trash. If she were lucky, it would happen in that order.

All of which meant that she needed to escape before they had a chance to extract her secrets. All she had to do was break out of a completely secure holding cell, make her way through an enormous and heavily guarded starship, steal a ride, and jump into hyperspace before the Venator could engage its tractor beam—all without getting captured again. 

Easy peasy. 

She scoffed and flopped back down on the kriffing pathetic excuse for a bed. Clearly, prisoner comfort was not high on the list of priorities for jail cells. Nor was entertainment, which she discovered over the course of the next several days. Had she been bored when she was alone in the garage? That had been a paradise compared to the endless, colorless monotony of a Venator cell.

She slept, she woke, she slept again. Nothing changed, and she was forced to confront the very real possibility that she was going to die in this cell. She didn’t know how many days passed before the heavy tread of a TK trooper sounded outside her cell door.

“On your feet,” he barked. “Hands behind your head.”

She complied, keeping a wary eye on his blaster. He shut down the ray shield and entered the cell, then shoved her against the wall as he secured her wrists in a set of binders behind her back.

“You know, I usually expect a man to at least tell me his name before I let him tie me up,” she said, hoping to catch him off-balance.

“Quiet, scum,” he snapped.

Ah, well. Worth a shot.

“Get moving,” he ordered, nudging her out of the cell and into the corridor with the muzzle of his blaster.

“Where we headed?” she asked conversationally.

“Interrogation,” he replied shortly.

“Any chance we can stop at the commissary?” she asked. “I wouldn’t mind a snack. The prisoner rations here are—”

“Shut up,” he snapped. “Eyes front.”

Unfortunately, he never let down his guard, and his blasters were properly secured. Trust her to encounter the only competent TK trooper in the entire kriffin’ army. He marched her to the interrogation room and thrust her through the doorway. She stumbled, but righted herself in time to see the door slide closed and the lock engage. 

She took a quick inventory of the room. There was nothing inside except a table and two chairs; nothing she could use to escape or even loosen her binders. She paced around the room impatiently. After waiting a frankly impolite amount of time, at last she heard the door hiss open behind her.

“Cerra Kilian. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Oh kark. 

She would recognize that voice anywhere, and she fought against a reflexive urge to snap to attention. Instead, she turned slowly around and inspected the man who’d entered the room.

“Admiral,” she drawled in greeting, hoping that he couldn’t hear the pounding of her heart or see the damp sheen of sweat that she suddenly felt on her forehead.

“It’s colonel, actually,” Wullf Yularen replied.

“Apologies, I didn’t realize you’d been demoted,” Cerra replied. From his narrowed eyes, she could tell the barb had struck home.

“It was a lateral move,” he replied. “An opportunity presented itself to be of greater service to the Empire.”

“Then I suppose congratulations are in order,” Cerra said.

“I can’t say the same for you,” Yularen said with a faint look of disgust as he surveyed her from her shaved head to her booted feet. “What on earth have you done to yourself? You used to be almost pretty.”

Always such a charmer. 

“Well, new Empire, new me,” she said glibly. “I think the new look suits me.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t expect better from a deserter and a traitor,” he said.

Cerra smirked. “Deserter, I’ll give you. But I hardly think a few shady back-alley deals constitute treason. If they did, you’d have to arrest the entire senate.”

Yularen clenched his jaw, but he didn’t rise to her bait. “You saved my life once, Lieutenant—or rather—Miss Kilian, and out of respect for that, I am going to give you a chance to do this the easy way. Tell me where to find your companions, and I will let you go free.”

Kraytshit, scughole. The only way you’re letting me out is in a body bag.

“I don’t have any companions,” she said. “I’m a free agent.”

Yularen’s lips tightened. He began to circle her, slowly, his shoulders ramrod straight, and his hands clasped behind his back.

“What were you doing on Daiyu?”

“What does anyone do on Daiyu?” she asked. “I was picking up a shipment of glitterstim.”

“You expect me to believe you abandoned your highly decorated military career to become a spice runner?” Yularen’s voice dripped with skepticism.

She shrugged. “Girl’s gotta make a living.”

He narrowed his eyes. “We know you were involved with the insurrection on Raada.” 

It was hardly an insurrection. I just blew up a speeder.

“What’s Raada?” she asked insouciantly.

“We have surveillance holos of you on the base. There’s no point in pretending ignorance.”

“Oh, you mean Raada, the moon,” Cerra said. “I was thinking about moving there, but I didn’t care much for the neighbors.”

“I see. I must admit, I was surprised to see a familiar face when we began to investigate the Raada incident. Careless. Almost as careless as trusting a spice runner not to give you up at the first hint of a reward.”

So that’s where the hole in our opsec was, Cerra thought grimly. Poor fucker.

“Hell of a reward,” she said. “Why do you care so much about a blown-up speeder, anyway?”

“Don’t pretend to be so innocent,” he gritted out. “Where is Ahsoka Tano?” 

“Who?” Cerra didn’t need to fake her confusion this time; she was truly baffled.

What in the galaxy does Ahsoka Tano have to do with anything? Cerra had met the young Jedi several times before she was transferred to the Ro-Ti-Mundi, but didn’t know her particularly well. Certainly not as well as Rex did. As far as Cerra knew, the girl had died along with the rest of the Jedi Order, even if she was a lapsed member.

“We know an adolescent Togruta Jedi killed an inquisitor on Raada and escaped mere days after you were caught on holocam at that base. Where is she?” Yularen demanded in a harsh tone.

“I thought all the Jedi were dead. What’s an inquisitor?” Cerra asked curiously. She hadn’t heard of them before, and she figured she might as well try to get as much information as she could on the off chance that she walked away from this mess.

Yularen backhanded her, hard. He struck so fast she never saw his fist coming before it smashed into her face. Her head snapped to the side, and she stumbled, but righted herself quickly as agony exploded in her mouth.

“Rude,” she gasped painfully. “I thought we were having a conversation.”

She tasted the salty, metallic flavor of blood, and she spat it onto the floor in front of Yularen’s feet.

“I gave you your chance to cooperate,” he said. “But it seems you’ve chosen to do it the hard way.”

“You know,” Cerra said, “you were a decent commanding officer. Bit of a hardass, but I never took you for a stooge. I guess you can never really know someone.”

“Strong words for a woman who betrayed everything she ever stood for,” Yularen said.

“I didn’t betray shit,” Cerra snarled. “And my only regret is that I dragged your fascist ass into the escape pod instead of saving more clones.”

He glared at her. “You will tell me everything.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” she said.

“I won’t need to. Guard!” Yularen snapped. The TK trooper stationed outside the room entered immediately. “Escort the prisoner to the enhanced interrogation room, and notify Agent Daivik that his services are required.”

“Yes, sir,” the trooper said, taking aim at Cerra. “Move it, scum.”

Cerra shot Yularen an impudent, bloody grin. “Be seeing you.”

---

Next chapter

[hudson-whorenet]

I’m bored so here’s my Doc head canons! I think about these a lot lmao (these are vaguely humanised)

After his big crash at Fireball beach he developed a fear of the ocean and beaches in general, which is why he moved to a landlocked state like Arizona, quite possibly the driest place he could’ve moved. (It’s actually on my writing list to write a short fic about him making peace with the memories while in Florida with lightning for a race, but alas I haven’t gotten around to it)

He has a great singing voice but hates singing in-front of people, until one night he has too much to drink and gets up on the karaoke mic at Flo’s and shocks everyone

Speaking of music, he ironically loves the Beach Boys and other rock and roll artists, he also enjoys Tom Jones. He likes to listen to his records when he has a lot of work to do, he feels it helps him focus and stops his mind wandering

He just forgets to sleep sometimes, he’ll get so adsorbed in his work that he doesn’t realise how late it is, and by then decides going to bed isn’t worth it anyway. Sheriff has had to knock on the clinic door multiple times in the small hours of the morning to tell him to go to sleep.

He rarely looses him temper, unless things he love are at stake, as seen with how angry he is with lightning in the first movie. He really values his community and feels an obligation as their judge and doctor to keep them safe.

Saying this though, he does get competitive when playing board games and is a frequent rule checker when he’s loosing, playing monopoly with him is a nightmare.

He values his appearance but isn’t obsessed with it, he likes to appear well dressed and sharp but sometimes slips up if he’s tired or overwhelmed.

[viladlind]

company + caress because good god we know fiyero needs that ( and also maybe throw a patch up in there because Yikes )

loud & deafening silence / in reference to the vampire encounter

' it was stupid, ' fiyero mumbles, and regrets it as soon as the words leave his lips. he doesn't dare look at basilio to gauge his reaction. for a moment, the sentence hangs between them.

   there's no difference to the way basilio handles him. gently, tenderly. the cloth that he's dabbing against the wound on fiyero's wrist is barely a touch at all. it's not too bad, really. throughout his journey in faerûn, fiyero has seen much worse, done much worse. from poisoned arrows to fireballs hurled in his direction, daggers and greataxes slammed into his middle. he's been hurt badly enough to die for a minute. (just a minute, never longer.)

   and he's sure seofon has seen worse, as well. as protector of the boundary, he must have. you don't wield power as devastating as his and never see battle, fiyero knows that much from seeing him on the nautiloid. so injuries can't be new to him either.

   but fiyero also knows that's not why there's a line of tension in his shoulders. it's not unfamiliarity with wounds. it's because fiyero is the one that was wounded. because he was being stupid.

   " fiyero, it wasn't stupid. " the tiefling lets out a shuddering breath, half protest, but doesn't say anything. when he finally looks at basilio, he just looks ... sad. that's most of it, at least. putting the cloth aside, he starts reaching for the bandages they gathered before settling down. " you were defending yourself. "

   giving him a pitiful look, fiyero nudges his chin towards his bag, removed from his corset. ' there's balm in there. will you put that on here before you bandage it? '

   " oh, yeah, of course. "

   fiyero is still a little dizzy. he lost ... a lot of blood. in hindsight it's almost impressive, that the vampire managed to drink so much in such a short amount of time. he's glad for the support in basilio, the fact that he doesn't have to patch himself up. glad, moreso, for the fact that they live so close to each other. it was easy to just show up at his doorstep instead of fiyero's own, when his steps had led him home without him realizing.

   there's still things to worry about. he'll have to meet up with astarion, try and see if he's at risk of turning. somehow, that also doesn't seem too horrible right now. he still has the worm in his brain, so he should be fine walking around in the sun either way.

   the thought makes a laugh bubble up, out of his throat. it turns into a sob he can't hold back. gods, when did he get so unused to hurt? when did he get so used to it?

   " fiyero. " basilio frames his cheek with one hand, coaxing the tiefling to look at him. fiyero does, even as he starts crying, not shying away from the closeness. basilio looks so torn. he still handles fiyero with the utmost of care, just finished bandaging him up properly. but fiyero knows that shadow over his face, what the hands holding him are capable of. " i should have been there. we're supposed to be a team, aren't we? "

   fiyero shakes his head, reaches out with his good hand to wrap it around basilio's wrist at the same time. ' i was just performing. you had no way of knowing. if i hadn't ... '

   if he hadn't mouthed off, he would probably be fine right now.

   he sniffles, his tail quivering where it wants to move, drops back down without getting anywhere. the pain there is low, pulsing. ' it's fine. basilio, really. we're being a team right now, hm? ' his good hand comes up, traces a few fingers down basilio's temple, place themselves against his cheekbone. if there's anything he doesn't want right now, it's his lover leaving him to go get revenge. out of a selfish desire to want him close, sure, but also because fiyero knows basilio— seofon, needs this space where he's not expected to be strong. hurting somebody, killing somebody for fiyero ...

   he wouldn't feel good about it. not once it's done.

   ' don't leave. okay? kiss me. ' isn't that so much nicer?

   it is, as it turns out. basilio is getting a lot better at kissing. fiyero likes to think it's due to his helpful guidance. his tail does come around a bit too rapidly, then, an excited twitch that makes fiyero hiss against basilio's lips, and they part hurriedly.

   " your tail— "

   ' 's fine, it'll heal. ow. damned thing has a mind of its own ... can you put balm on here, too? '

   he does. bandaged and balmed as fiyero is, afterwards, with basilio still here, he makes a small note to hold his tail still the next time he asks for a kiss. which will be soon enough. it always is.

[locitawritingsblog]

This fanfic is between "A Quick Salvage Run" and "Live Fire"

After few hours later, after they escaped from D'Qar where the first order found the colossus, Kaz sat on the top of the fireball to grieve his homeworld was destroyed by the first order.

He remembered when he and the others just arrived at D'Qar, he was shocked that planet was destroyed and attacked by the first order. He noticed a big hole on that planet reminds him of a planet base called starkiller destroying Hosnian Prime, his homeworld.

He suddenly heard a knock and looked at the bottom. It was Yeager holding two cups of tea "Hey, I made extra just in case." He offered. Kaz smiled sad at him as nodded and climbed down from the fireball.

They had a peaceful time with drinking their tea until Yeager spoke first "How are you holding on, kid ?"

Kaz sighed "I don't know, there's too much grieve in my mind...how did you deal with all your losses ?"

Yeager took a long breath before told him "Well, at first I was devastated, couldn't believe this was true to see then I was angry that why I had to lose everything I had. Then I decided to leave and came to this station..."

Kaz listened carefully as Yeager saying "...I joined few races few times but... everytime I joined the race, it reminds all those memories that Marcus and I were used to live, race each other until he cheated and killed my family..."

Kaz noticed Yeager had some tears in his eyes, he rubbed Yeager's shoulder "...How could he do that to them ?" Yeager broke into tears.

"I'm so sorry for you've been through, Yeager. I had no idea you had to deal all those things."

Yeager wiped his tears "Thank you Kaz." Then drank his tea.

Kaz gave him a sad smile as nodded.

After they stared at the space as drinking their teas for awhile, Kaz sighed "When Poe told me that the first order would attack my home in some ways, I immediately jumped in and would do anything to be a part of resistance but...."

"You were shocked that Poe took you in here as a resistance spy ?" Yeager finished.

Kaz responded "Yeah ! I wasn't trained to be a spy, I was trained as a pilot. I mean, I was on the top of my class." Yeager shook his head as smiling "Alright, no need to brag, hotshot." He gave Kaz a friendly punch then they chuckled.

"Speaking about pilots, I've been noticing the ace squadron hasn't been experienced in this war situation, I was thinking you and I could show them some tricks to make them great fighters in the sky."

"Like teaching them ?" Kaz raised in confusion.

"More like partner up. We'll show them what we made of."

"Are you sure ? I mean, you've been in the war so many times while I don't have that many."

"But you had been flying with Poe few times and I could really see that you're a gifted pilot." Yeager pointed out.

Kaz smiled "Thanks Yeager. It means a lot."

Yeager smiled back "I'll tell Doza that we will join the ace and prepare them for whatever it comes to protect our home." Kaz nodded "Sounds great."

Yeager tapped Kaz's shoulder "And Kaz, you don't have to talk about your homeworld if you don't want to...but when you ready to talk about it, call me up and I'll be there." "Okay and thanks." Kaz replied.

"We should get some rest, tomorrow will be our big day." Yeager suggested. Kaz nodded and they walked to get some sleep to prepare their big day.

Taglist : @trapezequeen , @cassie-fanfics , @zaya-mo , @fulltimecatwitch , @kanerallels , @commander-tech , @thebadbatch2022 , @catcucumber-salad

[talesfromthewanderingbard]

There's Magic in a Promise. Ch1

Rugan x femOC Mature 16+ but may change in later chapters Set before the events of the Absolute. Rugan gets a job to find and transport someone back to Baldur's Gate

Rugan sighs, he hated jobs like this. Retrieving and transporting goods were one thing but people? People were unpredictable and despite his proclivity to Bane, human trafficking was one of the less favourable jobs in his position. Still, the orders had come from Darkhold and there was a lot of tarenths to be had should he complete them.

He was well on his way to Viper rank within the Zhentarim and had as a result been assigned a small team to aid him in the retrieval. Brem, who had started around the same time as himself, Zarys who he'd recruited six months back and Ollie, the newest face of his particular stomping grounds. So now the four of them sat in a small tavern in a middle-of-nowhere town near Mirabar, watching their target celebrate some achievement with friends. 

“So she's the reason we're up here freezing our nackers off eh?” Brem watches from over his mug. “Should be easy money.”

“Why do we even need to bring her back?” Ollie's voice is hushed and mildly anxious.

“Because we're being paid to, lad. We don't need to know the reason, all we need to know is there's good money being paid to have her delivered to the Gate.” Brem sets down his mug. “Least she's a looker. I'll go get us all another drink.”

Rugan watches as their target clambers onto a table as the bard of their group strikes up a familiar tune, the group laughing and singing as she dances.

She was a pretty little thing. Half-elven, soft and curvy - her short height only emphasising the fact, hair like fire pulled back in a loose bun with a red velvet ribbon and green eyes. She was dressed in spellcaster’s attire and he notes the small component pouch and book strapped at her side. A wizard. 

He's about to inform Ollie of this information, when the town's bell begins ringing and someone rushes into the tavern frantically. 

“Trolls!”

Zarys grabs her blades and Rugan swears, watching the target and her friends hurry to defend the town.“What do we do?” Zarys sounds more irritated than concerned.

“We help just enough for one of us to get close and while the confusion is creating a distraction we grab her and get out. If someone gets her, we signal and meet at the signpost West of town.” Both Zarys and Ollie nod and the group are off. The group rushes out of the tavern, Brem nodding signalling to Rugan that he’ll gather the horses and Rugan focuses his attention forward to the sound of combat. Trolls were nasty beasts but usually travelled alone or in pairs, so seeing five of the beasts was concerning but that wasn’t his problem. He pushes inward, dodging a hefty lobbed boulder that tears through some of the locals who were desperately approaching with sub-par weaponry. He watches Zarys fire off a crossbow bolt, fending off a troll who had been about to grasp at Ollie and in his hurry he stumbles over the torn leg of what he believes to be one of his target’s friends. Shouts come from somewhere warning that more trolls were approaching from the east and he curses. Just what had this town done to draw the ire of an entire troll population? 

Finally as he regains his footing and spins to take in his surroundings he bumps into someone and on closer inspection finds it to be the target.

“He-SHIT!” He sweeps the woman into his arms, lunging out of the way just in time to see a heavy tree trunk slam down where the pair had been just an instance before. “Now would be a good time to do some fireballs and shit!” The troll lifts the makeshift club once more.

“I can’t cast that yet!” She sits stunned in his grasp for a moment. “And i’m tapped out!”

Rugan just rolls his eyes and throws her over his shoulder, hearing her yelp as he does so, before running east, whistling the signal for Zarys and Ollie. 

“Hey! Put me down, where are you going?!” 

She drums on his back as he runs, kicking and writhing but unable to escape his grasp. The group aren’t out of the gates when Brem meets them with the horses. “Hurry, there are more coming up from the river!” Rugan manoeuvres the girl onto his horse and swings himself up, adjusting her to be seated between his arms and once mounted, he kicks off, following Brem down the east road. 

The group had been riding for about fifteen minutes at a full gallop and crest a hill when they slow and stop, turning to look across the plain at the now heavily burning town in the distance. The woman slips from her place on the horse, crying as she stumbles a few steps toward the town, closely followed by Rugan who takes her by the arm. As he does, she hits at him, hammering his chest. “You bastard, those were my friends! We could have saved them!” 

“No we couldn’t have, lass. Whatever angered those trolls, there was no stopping them.”

“We could have tried! I could have tried!”

Rugan sets his jaw as she screams at him before turning her, taking her chin to focus her view on the burning town, his words firm. “Lass, if you tried, you’d be down there burning right now, or being dragged off for some troll’s stew. Your friends are dead, as is the rest of that bloody town. Be thankful we got you out of there.”

They rode for another three hours before it was too dark to continue safely, setting up a small camp to the side of the road, Rugan hands the girl to Zarys to watch for the night as he and Brem look over the map.

“Tsk, I was hoping we wouldn’t have to take the High road, is there no way we can cut across and get onto the Long Road? I’ve got a contact in Longsaddle that could get us fresh horses.”

Brem shakes his head. “Nah mate, crossing the Mirar this time of year is a quick way to a watery grave. ‘Less you wanna head back through the trolls, we go down the coast.”

Rugan pinches the bridge of his nose, that added at least another tenday on their journey. “Righto. We make do. We take Blackford Crossing, skip Luscan and get fresh horses in Neverwinter.” Ollie brings them over a bowl of stew and Rugan snatches Brem’s with a grin. “Gotta feed our guest, mate.” 

He walks over to where the girl sits in silence near Zarys who is maintaining her crossbow and sits on the other side of her, passing the wooden bowl of warm food. “Eat, you’ll need it to keep warm in this place.” When she takes it he takes a spoonful of his own, watching her carefully. “What’s your name, Lass?” 

“Sylvhane.” Her voice is quiet, still hoarse from her earlier crying. “And you?”

“Name’s Rugan. That’s Zarys, Ollie and that ginger bastard over there is Brem.”

Silence falls over them all a little longer. “Thank you.”

The night passes easily despite the cold and the next morning after a quick breakfast Rugan addresses the group. “Right, Brem and I went over the map last night, it’s too late in the season for us to cross the river so we have to go the long way. We’re about four days out of Blackford Crossing then we make our way south. We’ll have enough supplies for the five of us easy enough and it should start warmin’ up from there too.”

“Where exactly are you going?” Sylvhane sounded less exhausted than the previous evening.

“We’re taking you to the Gate, Lass.” His brow rises as she stammers, taking a step back. It seemed realisation was finally dawning on her.

“W-what? No, I cant! I won’t!” “Sorry, luv. A job’s a job.” Brem chuckles. “You didn’t think ol’ Ru just swept in and rescued you all prince like cos it was the right thing to do, did you?”

Rugan catches the hand moving to her spell components but is too slow to stop her. “DUCK!” He flattens himself to the ground just in time to avoid the ray of projected flame that leaves a toasted heat against his back, Brem not being as lucky by the sound of his shout and the third ray missing Zarys and Ollie by a fraction. “Ollie grab her!” He scrambles up, watching her writhe out of Ollie’s grasp as her hands ignite. He strides over, snatching her wrist and pulling upward, his free hand holding a dagger to her throat. He hisses as the flames around her hands lash out and singe his skin. “Put the flames away sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I’m not your ‘sweetheart’. Let me go.”

Rugan hears the click of Zarys’ crossbow and motions in her direction. “Zarys is a specialist at shooting ya where it gives the most pain for the least amount of damage. You sure you want to do this?” Sylvhane glares at him for a moment before the flames go out and he keeps her wrist held high. 

“Ollie, take her components.” The boy snatches the components pouch from her belt like he thinks she’ll explode and once unarmed, Rugan releases her arm only to watch her try to run. Zarys trips her. He sighs and walks over, grabbing a rope from his saddle as he does so. 

“Would be much easier if you just came with us willingly, lass.” He places a foot on her arm to prevent her getting up for a moment as he ties the rope around her waist, double knotting the length before bringing the other end around his own waist to do the same, linking the pair with roughly five feet of length between them and then lifting her up to her feet. “Now you’re stuck with me.” 

The past few days of travel had been exhausting and infuriating. In that time though, Sylvhane had made note of each of her captors.

 Rugan had kept her tied to him at all times, much to her utter dismay and disgust when nature had called - the man simply turning away to allow her to do her business. Of a night he would take his watch seated by her and through the day she would ride seated at the front of his saddle. Once the initial tension of her attempted escape had passed he had resumed an easy personality. Quick to quip and laugh with the others, a sharp eye to anything they encountered and he had a habit in the quieter moments of riding, of humming to himself. 

Ollie was definitely the youngest and newest of the group, seeming to hang on Rugan’s every word. He also seemed to be rather intimidated by Zarys. He did each night’s cooking for the group and was always quiet spoken and apologetic with her. She wondered how he ended up with them.

Brem was quick witted and liked to laugh. He and Rugan seemed to know each other the most, sharing in-jokes and familiar insults toward each other. He was also a horrendous flirt, despite her refusal to take part. Behind the mask of idiocy though, seemed a dark cut-throat element to the man. 

Zarys was the most serious of the group. Consistently rolling her eyes at the others, quiet for the most part unless telling the group to stay silent when she hears something suspicious. She was clearly the group’s best marksman too. Sylvie wondered if the woman wouldn’t hesitate to shoot to kill if she were to try to escape again.

It was just starting to rain when the group gets to Blackford Crossing. The city in the near distance split in two by the River Mirar and connected by the distinctive bridge with its tall, arched legs. She feels Rugan pull her closer as they ride through the streets, unsure if he is attempting to protect her from the rain or preventing her from calling for help. They ride like that across the great bridge and into the less affluent side of the city until the reach an inn and stable near the southern gate where they dismount. Ollie stables the horses and Rugan adjusts Sylvie’s cloak, pulling it around her in a manner that hid the rope joining the pair. 

“You’re gonna behave yourself in here, right? We don’t wanna cause a scene or make trouble for the good people of this inn.” The words are spoken with a teasing tone she would normally expect from a couple but she understood all too well the threat beneath the candied veil. He wraps a hand around her waist, further concealing their tether and leads her to follow the others into the inn. 

“Two rooms, Saer. Just one night.” Brem grins at the innkeeper as they stand by the desk.

“Three, I ain’t bunking with you pricks.” Zarys eyes Brem as he feigns distress. 

“Zar, I’m heartbroken.” 

“Choke and die Brem.” She rolls her eyes before looking at Rugan and Sylvie. “You won’t complain if I go get a drink will you?”

“Be my guest.” His grip on her waist tightens just slightly. “Could we bother you for a meal and drink bought to our room, and hot water for a bath, the lass is feelin the days travel.”

Sylvie wanted to complain but the idea of a bath sounded heavenly, and it hinted at the removal of the tether so she just nods when the innkeeper trails his gaze across the pair. 

“Very well, five silver a room, a silver for the bath and another for the meal.” As Brem pays the coins to the man he grins over at Rugan. “In that case you won’t mind me and Olly takin to the tavern too then. Eh Ru?”

“Sure thing Brem.” he takes his room key and leads Sylvie up.

Rugan internally griped. He’d kill for a fresh pint but that wasn’t possible with the girl being a flight risk and the others were all too quick to take advantage of that fact and pawn the babysitting onto him. At least they’d get a bath and a real bed. He enters the room and removes his cloak, sighing before looking over the room. It was simple, a double bed a desk and a large wooden bathtub. 

“There must be a mistake.” Her voice is matter-of-fact. 

“Howso?”

“There’s only one bed.” There’s a pause before Rugan laughs. “We did enter in with my arm round your waist, lass. Besides, it’s not as though your bedroll hasn’t been right beside mine the past nights.”

“Only because of this!” She gives the rope a tug. 

“And what makes you think it’ll come off now and make a difference?” Sylvie was appalled. How did he expect her to bathe still clothed and tied to him? She folds her arms and huffs, trying to ignore the quiet chuckle from the man. There had to be something she could do. Racking her brain the tender point on her hip makes a thought click. When he had held her waist, the hilt of his dagger was digging into her. If she could somehow get her hands on it… She eyes him, following obediently as he checks each nook and cranny of the room for whatever it was he was checking for. He was attractive, in a rugged sort of way. Blonde hair tied up with an undercut, half a tenday’s stubble, piercing blue eyes. If she could convince him that perhaps she wanted something of him, flirt with him a bit, perhaps she could grab the blade and either threaten him for release or cut the rope herself. A stab to the pillow to get a feather from it and even without her component pouch she’d be able to cast feather fall and escape through the window. 

“Lass? Y’alright? You’re staring at me like you want to eat me.”

It was now or never. She steps toward him, keeping her own green eyes locked with his. “Well… if we have to share a bed, I guess we could make the most of it.” 

Rugan’s brow raises and he looks down at her, the corner of his mouth shifting upward. “Oh yeah? How so?”

“Well…” She takes another step forward, placing her hands on his hips but feels no blade hilt. 

Her eyes dart to his waist back to her face and he smirks before taking her and turning to pin her against the wall. “Removed it when I removed my cloak luv, nice try though.” He looks down at her, noting just how small she truly was compared to him, barely coming to his shoulders as he leans over her.  “Now, you gonna actually behave? Or do I need to teach you some manners?”

A knock at the door interrupts them. “Your bath water Saer.” “One moment.” Rugan reaches over to the desk beside them, grabbing his dagger and leaning in to whisper. “Behave.” He quickly cuts the rope around her waist and moves her in the direction of  the bed, cutting the rest off himself and sheathing the blade before opening the door. “Apologies, my lady and I were having a discussion.” Sylvhane sits on the bed, cheeks flushed as she watches the innkeeper and who she assumes is his sons bring in a collection of steaming buckets and begin filling the tub. They take two trips each to fill it enough to bathe in before returning once more with food and drinks before instructing Rugan that by the time they finish their meal the water should be ready to use and bidding the pair good night. As the door closes Rugan turns, picking up the tray with their meal and carrying it to the bed. “Eat. Then bathe. And no more trying to stab me.”

“I wasn’t going to stab you.”

Rugan chuckles. “Really then? What were you going to do?”

“Remove the rope and get a feather from the bed to leave through the window.”

Her honesty stuns Rugan for a moment and then he laughs. “Lass you woulda been better off stabbing me.” He takes the pillow on the bed and makes a careful cut in the side where it is sewn, revealing it to be filled with sheeps wool. “This ain't a luxury inn with down bedding. You’re lucky it’s not straw.”

Sylvie feels her cheeks flush again and the pair fall into silence as they eat. “So, any idea who’s paying us so much to get you to the Gate?” He doesn’t look at her with the question, focused entirely on picking the meat off the roast bird on his plate.

“You don’t even know who hired you?” Sylvie stares wide-eyed.

“Not how my people work. All I know is the job came from the real higher ups, and we’ve been offered a decent amount for once, which means whoever wants you there paid ten times that amount.” 

Sylvie frowns, suddenly not hungry. “My father.” 

It’s now that Rugan’s eyes leave the meal and fall onto her, watching her fidget uncomfortably. “Nobility huh?” She nods. “Look lass, our instructions are to get you there, only using force if you don’t come willingly. So long as you come along easy it’ll be fine. And you got out once so I’m sure you will again.” His words are half muffled as he finishes his meal and she sets hers aside. 

“So if I come willingly you won’t tie us together again?”

“Providin’ you don’t try runnin’ or burning Brem’s moustache off again.” He grins as he watches her suppress a chuckle. “Why’d you leave?” When she doesn’t answer he drinks the last of his mead before setting aside his plate and standing. “Righto then, the bath should be ready. You jump in, I gotta use the chamberpot. Remember, no runnin off.”

She nods and he leaves the room leaving her alone.

Sylvhane walks over to the bath, noting the small shelf with a few vials of hair oil, scented oil and the bar of soap along with a bucket and jug for rinsing. She opens one of the scent oils, taking in the strong jasmine and blackberry aroma and places a few drops in the bath before beginning to undress. Once free of the clothing she steps into the water and sighs as she lowers herself. It was still just that slightest bit hot but she relished in the relief it gave her muscles that were sore from riding. When the door to the room opens she ducks down, thankful for the high sides to the wooden tub. She listens to the sounds of Rugan moving around the room, assuming he’s clearing the tray of food and settling in for the evening until she hears him just beside the bath. “Move forward then lass.” “What?!” Her hands instinctively move to cover her chest and is about to look up at him but quickly realising he’s also undressed, stops herself. 

“The bath will only stay hot for so long and I’m sure you aint much different than most other women i’ve seen.” he steps over the side, moving to lower himself into the water behind her. The water rises up around her chest as she feels his legs move either side of her. “Besides, you were the one who said we should make the most of this.”

“I didn’t mean it and you know that!” Her face felt like it would catch fire as she sits, leant forward in the water and hears him chuckle behind. 

He reaches over, taking the soap from the shelf and without hesitation begins to wash her back, running the bar across tense, knotted muscles. She jumps at first but it’s not long until his skilled hands have her instinctually relaxing. “You want me to wash your hair too?” She wanted to say no, really, but as embarrassed as she was she couldn’t deny how nice it was to have someone do this. “P-please.” He reaches over, scooping some of the clean water and with his free hand, adjusting her head backward so as not to let the water run to her eyes as he wets her hair. He then moves through the motions - adding the hair oil, lathering, massaging her scalp, neck and shoulders and then instructing her to close her eyes and tilt her head back once more so he can rinse the soap from her locks. By the time he’s done she feels the weight of exhaustion sitting heavily on her eyelids. “Let me wash myself and I’ll help you out so you don’t slip.” His words are quiet and gentle. Unlike those she had heard with his interactions with the others. She responds with a tired hum and he smiles but busies himself. Before long, his hands move beneath her arms, helping her stand in the tub. He follows suit and she is suddenly once more all too aware of his naked form as he reaches over her to the towelling hanging on the wall. He squeezes the water from her hair before wrapping the material around her and guiding her safely from the tub, leaving her to stand, wrapped as he does the same for himself. 

Sylvie busies herself with her clothes, doing all she can to avoid watching him. Her attention is soon entirely consumed however when she picks up her clothes and realises now that she is clean, just how dirty and damaged her attire is. 

“You can borrow something of mine and we’ll get you clean clothes in Neverwinter.” his voice made her jump. 

“W-what? I couldn't ask that I-”

“It’s fine, lass. Besides, it’ll be more comfortable to ride in than robes. Unless you’d rather wear those old rags… or go without.” 

She could hear the smirk in the last comment and feels her face flare with embarrassed heat. “Yours will do fine then, thankyou.” 

He laughs and makes his way to his pack, pulling out a navy shirt and tossing it over to her. “Here, wear this. You and Zarys look about the same size, she should have a pair of pants you can borrow in the morning.”

She nods, pulling on her undergarments and the shirt. It fit more like a tunic dress on her, coming half way down her thighs. She then watches as he does one more check of the room’s perimeter before waving an arm to the bed. “After you, Princess.” 

“Don’t call me that.”

She settles herself into the bed, facing the wall and feeling Rugan join her, pulling the blankets up over her to tuck her in. She considers for a small moment waiting for the man to sleep but doubts he would and sleep clung heavily to her senses. Before long she falls to slumber.

[sugoiney-weaver]

I finally finished my first playthrough of BG3 last night, and it's maybe the worst/most depressing playthrough possible. I went into the game mostly blind, and tried not to savescum any major decisions or events. Spoilers below the cut

I accidentally killed the Owlbear mama. Without Speak with Animals, I got the gist that she wanted me to leave and not come back. I found a potion of animal speaking, and she was serious about the not coming back part.

I did not free the owlbear cub from the goblin camp, but it showed up at my camp later. It was only there for a few days before I accidentally made its hurt paw worse and it ran away, never came back

I didn't know Minthara would be a companion until after I killed her

I completely missed Halsin until after I killed all the goblins and saved the tieflings

I misunderstood/misclicked the levers at the windmill and sent Barcus flying

At Waukeen's Rest, I saved the guy upstairs, not realizing there was anyone else to save. I then went and found the Zhentarim hideout and didn't come back for a while. The other person (people?) died. Could I have saved the Duke there? IDK.

I saved Baelen by yeeting a healing potion at him, but he triggered the Bibberbang field so I didn't get the Noblestalk

I didn't realize that the world moves on and events resolve themselves without you, so Nere died behind the cave-in. I was trying that fight over and over, kept dying, so I went and explored the rest of the area and came back after a couple long rests. I had been drinking so I was very confused. I KNOW I didn't kill EVERYONE here, but where the fuck are they?

I explored the Grymforge but didn't actually use it. I thought for sure that I would find something that would explain how to use it, but I didn't. I refused to look up walkthroughs so I missed a lot of content because I didn't immediately understand what I was doing

When I first got to Last Light Inn, I missed Dammon. I failed to rescue Isobel and reloaded when I saw Zombie!Dammon. I then went and talked to Dammon to fix Karlach's heart, tried again to save Isobel, failed, and killed ALL the Tieflings and Harpers

Jaheira died on the front steps of Moonrise Towers. Because she wasn't actually in my party, I couldn't revive her.

I remember seeing some stairs that probably led to where the rest of the Tieflings were being kept, but I forgot to check it out before I moved on. I assume they're still there.

I decided not to give a fuck about Halsin's quest, so he was very sad that I did not lift the Shadow Curse

When I found Mizora at Moonrise Towers, I correctly translated the button that said "Unleash" and assumed it meant "unleash the Illithid." I failed to translate the one that apparently says "annihilate," so I pushed that one. Mizora and Wyll went WOOSH and Karlach was pissed

I didn't know that Isobel was saveable so I killed her.

Gale got kidnapped by Orin in Act 3, before I had a chance to take him to Sorcerous Sundries

Because I didn't need him (I was already a wizard) I took my sweet time rescuing him. I think I accidentally killed him on the altar with a Fireball. He wasn't technically in my party so Spell Sculpting didn't help?

I completely skipped Cazador's Palace for the sake of finishing the game. I hadn't taken Astarion out of camp since act 1 so he was only level 4 the whole time lol.

At the end, I turned Karlach into a Mind Flayer, released Orpheus, fought the Emperor.

I crit failed my attempt to convince Laezel to stay with us

That's pretty much it lol. I also abandoned so many quests that I probably could have gotten an extra 60 hours out of this playthrough. I ended at 129 hours though!

[terapsina]

I'm creating a new book rec post containing my new favorite thing -> Comfort Fantasy with Food Aesthetic.

---

Legends & Lattes - 💚💖☕

Viv the Orc is retiring from the life of blood, death and adventuring to open up her own little coffee shop.

“You can smell it though, can’t you? Like roasted nuts and fruit.”

Cal squinted at her. “Thought you said you drank it?”

Viv nibbled one experimentally, tasted the warm, bitter, dark flavor as it coated her tongue. She felt she needed to explain. “They grind it into powder and then run hot water through it, but there’s more to it than that. When the machine shows up, I’ll show you. Gods, the smell of it, Cal. This is just a ghost of it.”

She sat back on the flagstones and rolled the bean between her thumb and forefinger. “I told you I came across it in Azimuth, and I remember following the smell to the shop. They called it a café. People just sat around drinking it from these little ceramic cups, and I had to try it, and…it was like drinking the feeling of being peaceful. Being peaceful in your mind. Well, not if you have too much, then it’s something else.”

---

The Dragon With a Chocolate Heart - 🐉🍫❤️

A very young dragon who has the great misfortune to come across a wizard that turns her into a human girl (oh, the horror) but also introduces her to CHOCOLATE!

As he stirred the hot chocolate, he kept on whispering to himself the whole time in that funny rhythmic chant, his whole body taut with concentration. I suppose I could have listened harder, to try to pick out his words, but really, when had I ever cared about anything that humans said? Besides, I was far too busy enjoying the smells from his pot. If I could have, I would have wrapped myself up in those steamy tendrils of scent and rolled around in them for hours. Hot chocolate. Talk about a treasure fit for a dragon!

I’d have to look for more chocolate in his luggage when I finished here. I already knew I would have to have hot chocolate again. Lots of it.

---

A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking - 🧙‍♀️✨🍪

Mona the fourteen-year-old magicker finds a dead body, gets accused of murder and has to save her city from a deadly conspiracy. But what can she do when the only magic she's got is power over baked goods?

I flushed. As wizards go, I’m pretty much the bottom of the barrel. Even Master Elwidge, who’s got just enough magic to take knots out of wooden boards, is better than me. Dough and pastries are about all I can do. The great wizards, the magi that serve the Duchess, they can throw fireballs around or rip mountains out of the earth, heal the dying, turn lead into gold. Me, I can turn flour and yeast into tasty bread, on a good day.

And occasionally make carnivorous sourdough starters.

Pls add recs if thou knowest more.

[jacqcrisis]

I really like when interesting narrative things happen in fights due to various game mechanics. Examples:

- against the Masks in Auntie Ethel's lair, Roman went down to death saves for the first time. Gale was the closest and got him back up. Ronan never even needs healing so I like to imagine there had to have been a moment of anxiety within the party over that along with the strengthening of comraderie between Gale and their cleric as he hands Ronan a few healing potions.

- along the monastary traul, there is a fight with some death shepherds. In that fight, Gale actually dies for a moment, down to death saves before a ghoul finishes him. Ronan has to use revivify for the first time before the rest of the party take out the last remaining undead. After, I like the idea of Ronan fretting, uncharacteristically shaken as he heals up the chunk missing out of Gale's neck.

- the party has a habit of singling out someone in a room and taking out that one person with no one else being the wiser. So I just really like the image of Ronan walking into a room silently, letting everyone in, and closing the door as he nods to Karlach and Astarion to take care of the very confused person watching all this happen.

- this happened in the prison under moonrise towers to the warden, along with the party just hanging out behind Gale in the warden's office as he had thunder wave prepared and aimed at the door to take out the scrying eyes that came through. This took several minutes so I imagine it the party is genuinely just chilling and chatting as they wait. Ronan's standing resolute with his hand on his mace, watching Astarion drink off the dead Warden while he and Karlach, whose perched on the desk, discuss next steps. Extremely chill, bloody, and funny scene to me.

- while protecting the portal for Halsin, Ronan was put in front of said portal, cast spirit guardians, guardian of faith, had lathanders mace, and was genuinely just a beacon of light as he blinded nearby enemies and took out anything that got past Gale casting fireball or the other two picking off larger targets. In game, he's being a cleric making full use of the capabilities I tend to ignore for most fights. Narratively, since Ronan usually stays back and focuses more on keeping everyone alive and well while picking off smaller targets so everyone else can do the impressive damage, I like the idea that it was a stark reminder of what Ronan is capable of. Especially to certain vampires looking to murder their old master.

- Astarion gets down to death saves A LOT. Just all the goddamn time. Most of Ronan's healing is going to keeping him going since he's specced to be in the face of opponents, his armor sucks, and also I forgor all the time he has a fucking bow. Narratively, I like to think Astarion is doing it somewhat on purpose as it gets him physically touched in a way that is intimate, yet not expectant of anything more. Fucked up way to get intimacy for the guy with intimacy issues.

- adding onto that, the second time Ronan had to had to use Revivify was during the fight with the Apostle of Myrkul. Astarion went down to death saves, and before Ronan could get him back up, he was knocked off the platform and dead. Immediately revivify him and a healing word to keep him going. I like to think Ronan ordered him to stay out of range and swap to his bow, but Astarion ignored that, ran up, and got the last hit on the big skeleton and then was EXTREMELY smug about it later when Ronan had to patch him up. Again.

- last one: at the circus, I sent Ronan up at Dribble's request. Obviously, clown man turned out to be evil and combat starts. By game mechanics, Astarion is most likely to be first in initiative and he does just that here. I didn't see the other guys closer by, so we send the rogue to go stab a clown, at which point I notice there's like 2 other dudes in the lineup. So game wise, I make a mistake because Ronan is a tank who can 1v1 a clown for days, but narratively: I think it's a cute idea that Astarion sees the large dragon man he's in a relationship with (and who he needs to help kill Cazador) get threatened by a dog and a clown and just snaps into action before anyone else has a chance. That's adorable to me.

[nightmarist]

Alright finally writing our previous DnD session !

All previous parts:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Yilcer | Part 5 |

The party has been shopping around, budgeting their treasures. They also came to an argument with Yilcer about whether her Archdruid Helvega is the same as the Sigurd Helvega they faced ages ago.

This particular session was very lore-heavy. I was worried they'd get bored, but pleasantly surprised by how immersed they were and how much they enjoyed piecing together bits of lore they each had, so I hope I can translate that well enough to text here.

Yilcer refuses to believe her Archdruid is the same Helvega as the necromancer they met, but it's mostly due to Ivan's petty one-sided feud with him: Ivan insists he's a bad guy because Sigurd let him drink his blood knowing it was tainted because he's "always wondered what would happen."

Tork had to mediate between them.

In the mean time, Xehara went back to one of the shop keeps, Zephyn, a Tiefling who has half his face seared to the bone, a seasoned adventurer who has definitely seen a lot. He asks Zephyn about his necklace, since Zephyn's wares are mostly jewelries. Zephyn personally isn't sure but suggests if it's magic and can't be taken off, he should ask a wizard or sorcerer.

The group gets back together and goes to Glamours and Gores, a magic and magic items shop run by a half-elf wizard named Dravor, dressed in midnight-black robes with subtle hints of gold threads, wearing gold pauldrons and chains.

Dravor sells them a few items, including some scrolls (Fireball, Speak With Dead, Grease, Disguise Self).

Dravor looks through a few of his tomes and tells Zehara the necklace is certainly of Ancient time, but can tell little beyond that. There is an enchantment attached to it, but he wouldn't necessarily call it a curse as much as he would call it soulbound. He did not detect any outright cursed or dark magic on the necklace, but it seems that its refusal to be removed is part of its duty, and that Xehara would have to be the one to find out what that is.

Yilcer wanted to open up a bank account since the ancient coins they have cost a fuckton of gold for just one. The Three Lizard Bank recognized her surname, Helvega, and asked if she was related. She at first didn't want to say, but passed a persuasion check after backtracking. They gave her a vault key to a Helvega vault. She at first refused to let anyone else go with her, wanting to discover the secrets of her Archdruid herself.

The vault was massive, but had very little actually inside.

Five portraits were stacked against the wall. She didn't recognize any except one: her Archdruid wearing a teal, armored robe holding a book, a quill, wearing a silver ring with a purple stone. But, what was unusual, is that his eyes were normal. White sclera, dark black irises.

There were stacks and stacks of letters neatly arranged, and several books. They were all in a language she didn't know, however, ad she cursed at herself, realizing the others were studying this language. She found a safety deposit box and opened it. Inside were:

A broken pearl necklace, a large amethyst flower, a large peridot flower, an opened letter with the wax seal preserved of an axe and a lavender stalk crossing but in a language she didn't know, two silver rings with an amethyst and a peridot respectively (that she recognized one as in the portrait) with engraved phrases in another language, four small black obelisks, and a pitch black dagger coated in rust or old blood.

She went back and very frustratedly demanded the others go with her.

They had ONE scroll of Comprehend Languages and had to choose which of the items they were going to read. I gave them the choice of:

A stack of old letters. A stack of new letters. A stack of ancient books.

Either way I was going to give them the safety deposit box letter and rings for free since they're quick reads.

Everyone examined all the items in the room.

The group recognized the portraits as the indiiduals from the Godkiller temple as well as portraits hanging in Sigurd's office at the Elk God's temple: Eloise Starguard, Asa Heilung, Razvra Zhiat, and finally a portrait of Sigurd himself. However, the fifth was recognized but unexpected: A heroic portrait of a middle-aged man with chopped brown hair and scruffy beard. He is Xehara's target.

Everyone mulled over these portraits.

Xehara and Tork looked at the two stacks of books. One of them was a stack of language books in many languages. They recognized Sigurd's handwriting in various notes, as it seemed he was learning all these languages himself. The second stack of books were neat and they passed a check to determined they were preserved by the same magic that had been preserving Razvra's body (and now-decapitated head....)

Tork and Xehara passed a Wisdom check so I allowed them to understand the subject of the books but not fully translate them. They were five books about the Usherian Pantheon, seemingly each about a god, but couldn't decipher what the fifth book as about.

Yilcer is the one who used the Comprehend Language scroll and chose to translate the older stack of letters.

Here's a copy paste of my notes:

Sigurd details that there is a sickness disturbing the local flora and fauna in a way that seems unnatural or supernatural. He asks permissions to travel to the temples, as the Divination Chambers seem to be having difficulties connecting to the gods. It’s a strange, otherworldly thing he’s never seen before. But, like any illness, Sigurd insists he can take it.

Asa seems to be the first of his companions, as he sends a letter to the central Ushurian temple, the Temple of the Quartet, detailing her aid in soothing frenzied creatures that have come to illness. The Temple of the Quartet seems to be located near Fjorsom and Brislat. Asa is apparently a warrior nun dedicated in Ranger arts. She and Sigurd travel to Draghule together and find the dragon god suffers the illness. He details the symptoms:

It is of ragged breath, drooling from its mouth with a wretched stench of death. It is rather unable to move and appears to have a bloat. He and Asa, as skilled healers each and Asa of great animal-clinictic study do what they can to aid the Great Dragon, but little seems to help it. Sigurd informs the Temple of the Quartet he will attempt his Final Measure, and perhaps self-study its signs and symptoms. They reply to him with prayers for his own health, and thank him for his sacrifice.

He details that after curing the illness, he and Asa were blessed by the visage of Galdramadur Himself, in draco-humanoid glory, thanking him for his service and sacrifice. The god seems to be doing much better, and even said that the mortal coils of the great beast God-Avatars can occasionally suffer mortal-inflictions. Sigurd, however, tells the Temple he does not find this illness to be very…. Mortal.

Sigurd has hired a band of mercenaries to travel with him and fellow priests, to protect them from the troubles that would meet them traveling from Osanisk to the southeastern shores to travel to Aeonaclys.

Letters are addressed to his mother. He has a few letters from his mother praying for his safety. A few of the letters describe the band of mercenaries, a barbarian, a fighter, a pair of wizards, two paladins briefly, small things about their origins and personalities. A few funny things, such as Asa scolding them for brutishness towards animals and plants. He details one particular paladin longer than the others – the description is certainly Razvra.

He keeps in touch with his mother. His mother calls him Siggy.

In Aeonaclys, he mentions to a nun that an Angel barred them from entering Morthana’s temple at first. He reveals it was because Morthana’s avatar had been sick, as well, but eventually allowed him upon realizing he healed both Galdramadur, Desmaduke, and Ranmaya. Morthana herself soothed him a most dreadful tale. He does not write this tale, only insists that when he returns, it would cause a dire stir amongst the worshipers and can only be told in person.

Aloise, an Angel, joins him as she feels it is her duty to do so.

He tells his mother about small things. He tells her he thinks Razvra would enjoy their farm because he enjoys gardening, and hopes to show him someday. He said Razvra also likes horses, and tells her they should get one or two. Razvra’s horse is named Tabernackle. He includes a drawing of Razvra combing its hair.

He finished cleansing each God-Avatar. 

He is asked a few times by clinicians and worshipers about his health. He insists it’s simply taking time for his own body to heal such an alien illness. He assures them he will be fine. It’s no different from healing a flue or a leper.

Most of the letters thereafter are between Sigurd and The Three (Razvra, Eloise, Asa), detailing small everyday things of their lives, keeping in touch for years. There seems to be a lot of peace now. Razvra and he live in a place called Alma, on their own farm. Sigurd’s mother had passed and he was given well-wishes – there are flowers pressed between these letters.

Asa has children in the Brislat grove. Eloise jokingly complains of the never-ending petty mortal sufferings she hears as a Guardian in Aeonaclys. Eloise and Asa both ask him about his health. He says it’s hard to keep it contained, but his body can manage it. It’s the least he can do for faith.  

More time passes but new letters to them state Razvra is going with him “like old times” to visit the temples and god-avatars to cleanse the Godsickness again. Eloise and Asa both tell him to be careful, reminding him that his body is still recovering from last time. He cleanses them all again. Years pass.

New letters state his worry that the sickness is returning at exponential rate. He cleanses the gods, but they only get sick again. Eloise and Asa offer to help him, they’re own clerical abilities they believe could combine with his. He refuses, saying he doesn’t want to put his beloved companions in any danger.

Months pass.

He writes to them he fears the god-avatars are beyond saving, or will be soon, but the priests refuse to believe him.

Asa and Eloise insist he must make them see truth, that the avatars are still bound to mortal coil.

Sigurd tells them the priests are afraid the gods would cease if their avatars cease. Sigurd insists that the gods use the avatars to deal with mortal complications but otherwise would be powerful enough to resume new coils. They are GODS. The primordial essence of all life. They would not “cease”

They each agree to search for new Great Beasts that can withstand the power of the gods.

Months go by between letters, some are from Sigurd to priests, priests being upset with his line of thinking, finding him blasphemous to think anything could contain the Godsouls. Sigurd insists that avatars need not necessarily be Beasts, but any powerful being willing and capable of becoming the mouthpiece for a god would do.

Many letters are collected, addressed to Sigurd, from many priests, priestesses, nuns, monks, nobility, commoner, renouncing him as a Blasphemer. He has been stripped of his title as Ascendant Priest.

Sigurd vaguely mourns in a letter he has blood of his brothers on his hands for the foolishness of blindness. And soon, the blood of his greatest devotion will be on his hands, too.

The rest of the letters are only from Asa and Eloise, frequently writing to him, asking for his reply, asking for Razvra’s reply, asking Razvra to keep Sigurd safe. They resort to begging for an answer before the letters stop. Sigurd had one, seemingly unsent reply: I can fix it.

In between the letters are various illustrations (that I did not draw lol)

Some drawings of Razvra, Asa, and Eloise, mostly doing mundane things: Razvra brushing his horse's hair, Asa gholding her hand out to a small animal, Eloise hanging laundry on makeshift posts, some various figure drawings of various monks, nuns, priests, and priestesses, a few drawings of buildings, a few of the interior of the Forge Temple but with people, a few of the Elk temple but with people, a few of an oceanic temple, a few of a stone temple, a blood stained drawing of the goblet.

Ivan stealthed and took the drawing of the goblet (as a reminder, his people were said to be created by the magic of a goblet, and some time go he found and took the very goblet out of the Godkiller temple, but has very little knowledge of its true purpose otherwise)

The group told Yilcer they've been to two of the sketched temples and described vaguely what the found there, but told her little else.

I also let them read the rings and deposit letter.

The letter read:

Happiness, many believe, is the enchanted palaces we read of in our childhood, where fierce, fiery dragons defend the entrance and approach; and monsters of all shapes and kinds, requiring to be overcome ere victory is ours. But I know this work, and I know this life. I know the fear that punctuates the depths of the gut, the heartbeat of finality when you believe you are on death’s final knell. But I too know happiness. The mending of the soul that comes after gore, the soothing of gash wounds by the palest, most charming light, the tenderness of a kiss to the smallest scrape. I will always the sword-arm to he who is forever my healer, the mend of my heart – Sigard Vega

Ring with a dark purple stone says: Until Nothing Remains

Ring with a dark green stone says: Except for Our Regrets

Knowing Razvra and Sigurd had been married, they determined these were their wedding rings, vows, and gifts. They asked to see my illustrations again and everyone said how sad it was realizing the rings and flowers were in their respective color palettes:

They determined everything in the deposit box was particularly special, and almost ritualistic. They determined (without my confirmation but they are correct) that the four obelisks were likely tied to the fact there were originally Four Champions (Sigurd, Razvra, Asa, Eloise). The dagger, they determined, was likely what Sigurd used to kill Razvra, a very stark contrast to the beauty of most everything else in the box, and an almost sickly keepsake to remind him of what he had done.

I also gave Yilcer a particular piece of information that she shared with the group:

All names come from languages, and while she can read that Sigard Vega is a name, she can, at this moment, understand its translation and roots. Sigard means "Victorious Guardian" and "Vega" means way. I also told her, you realize that the name Helvega means "The Way to Hell"

Ivan speculated very correctly that the reason why the Godkiller is symbolized by a dead horse is because it's a bastardization, a symbol of what Sigurd had lost and thus changed his name to "The Way to Hell" showcasing his own descent of mourning to madness.

Ivan also had a very correct speculation, but I hadn't confirmed it yet, that when Sigurd said the God-Avatars needn't be beasts, he asked Tahir about the Revenant Ritual. Tahir's brother is a Revenant, which in my game means he is a body possessed by another soul. Tahir said that when he saw his brother, he had been stabbed through the heart and wrists to bleed and die so that his body could make room for another soul. Ivan compared this to the ritual they vaguely came across in the second or third session, cultists who did the same in the name of the Godkiller.

Yilcer offered information at this point:

She had asked her Archdruid before the adventure if he had ever seen this blight before. He said yes, once a long time ago, long before she was born. She asked what it was and he said it was something unnatural, or perhaps supernatural, but otherwise did not know. She asked what he did to stop it before, he told her he did "something terrible." She asked if he would have to do it again, and he simply said "I hope not."

Tork put 2 and 2 together: They found Razvra's body in the temple of the Dragon God. They found the Elk-God's body in the Godkiller's temple and an empty temple of the Elk God. There are two more champions, and two more temples. One of the champions is a guardian of the Raven goddess Morthana.

They looked at the portraits again. The one of the mystery man, Illark, had a broken frame. An Investigation check proved that it was likely thrown or otherwise smashed in frustration, but they found it strange it was still preserved with these others if Sigurd had been the one to throw it.

They also noticed, but no one seemed to pick up on my hint yet: Asa, the elf woman, had red hair and tawny skin. Yilcer passed a check and determined she was an Eldarin like herself (who is also from Brislat if you remember / read Yilcer's backstory).

:)

They flitted back and forth between whether they wanted to sell Sigurd's stuff or not. Yilcer very much did not want to, but they all decided his story was already too fucking sad AND they decapitated his dead husband - "We have to leave him something!" Tork said.

They took the stack of newer letters as well as all the books, but left the portraits and deposit box.

They asked the bank teller how old the vault was. She looked through records and found it was actually the very first account the bank ever opened and sadly did not have any official dated records from back then, but its several hundred years old. They asked when the last time someone came an she told them about a hundred years or so (which is about when Sigurd met/adopted Yilcer but no one noticed that yet).

They bought a few more things in town now that they remembere why they went to the bank to begin with: Yilcer has an account now and exchanged an Ancient coin for gold to finish their shopping spree.

After Tahir got the Distinguished Outfit from all over the shops, he decided to flirt with Dravor as a distraction. Dravor rolled a nat 1 so he was very much enamored by our dog furry in thigh highs while Xehara stole the remaining 4 speak with dead scrolls and four comprehend language scrolls. Everyone was trying to get him to steal more than that but he refused. Dravor, being a nervous wreck while Tahir continued to flirt with him, gave Tahir a special potion of healing that does 10d6 + 10 healing. Tahir kissed him as thanks and the poor man nearly passed out.

I REALLY need to draw Dravor because he's like. A tall foreboding goth wizard with long dark beard who was reduced to blabber. I told them it was like when Kiff in Futurama gets nervous and just can't say anything.

I might make a list of the things they bought if anyone is interested, A few items I ripped from BG3 but a few I made up for their particular individual needs. I'll have to ask my note-taking player what they got, though, thank the gods he's been helping me keep track.

Ivan thought about his vampire clan has a triumvirate of gods. An Angel of the Moon named Mani, A Demon of the Sun named Kuukul, and a Necromantic Sorcerer named Erste. After seeing Eloise being called Manaven in another language at a previous temple, he determined that Eloise is likely the Moon Goddess he and his people worship. His people have a temple carved into the mountain that is said to hold the corpses of their gods, but no one except the absolute elite are allowed to go there. He realizes Eloise's body may be there, but has no idea who Kuukul or Erste may be.

Before we wrapped up I gave them a summary of important locations:

The scrolls Sigurd gave to Amin (Tahir's brother) to give to Xehara has portraits of Illark and one is the seal of Stillas, a beautiful city-state of commerce and wealth. It is possible Illark could be there. It's about a 3 week journey.

Much further to the west is Brislat and Fjorsom, and thus where the Temple of the Quartet is.

To the east they may find the origins of a peculiar necklace they found in Sigartha.

To the Northwest is Osanisk, an oceanic country and home to the Temple of the Angler Goddess.

To the far east or they could Osanisk are docking points where they will have to take a boat to Aeonaclys, Ivan's home, and thus where Eloise might be (and thus putting Asa in Osanisk).

They seem to prefer to head towards Stillas, so we'll find out next week.

If you all need it, here's are the Maps:

Cities Map | Countries Map

They are currently in between the desert mountains in a valley called the Caravan Carnival in Dauthas, also called Paripahari (not labeled, sorry), it is a long river that connects the oceans and cuts through Stillas where a great many caravans convene together, a Silk Road of sorts.

[whitegoldtower]

Some more Solemnar and Lydia headcanons:

There’s a slight language barrier - Sol can speak the common tongue with little to no difficulty but reading it is a whole other story; his first language is Aldmeri.

Lydia can’t read or write.

Sometimes they get absolutely shitfaced on firebrand wine and Lydia makes Solemnar attempt to read both volumes of The Lusty Argonian Maid. Shenanigans ensue and they’re howling the entire time

———————————🍷🍷———————————

“Stop it, I’m trying to be serious here!”

*Lydia snort laughing* “No, continue, please.”

“But my oven isn’t hot enough… for the baking. It could take me whores (hours).”

*She’s fucking dying at this point, and he’s laughing too, her cup of wine has almost tipped over onto her lap*

“Does this turn you on? Lewd bread-making? Ahem. You want me to k-need the loaf? Here?”

*he drunkenly makes these absolutely absurd kneading motions with his hands*

“IT’S KNEAD”

“You read it, then!”

“*tears in her eyes from laughing* I can’t!”

“That’s what I thought! … Pfft-”

———————————🍷🍷———————————

In an Interview:

Q: Do you ever miss each other when you’re apart?

Solemnar: Preposterous. [He looks at her fondly]

Lydia: See, [She glances at him] sometimes I begin to think I’m getting a little sentimental about him, and then-

Solemnar: And then?

Lydia: And then I SEE HIM and he’s just a disappointment.

[He chokes on his wine]

Q: Have your perceptions of society changed at all since meeting one another?

Solemnar: [he checks his jerkin to make sure he didn’t tip any wine on himself before taking another long sip] … No.

Lydia: Liar. You know, underneath it all he’s actually not such a bastard?

Solemnar: I’m not?

Lydia: and I think he’s learnt a lot from us Nords, as much as he won’t admit it. In his own little twisted way, I think he quite likes living in Skyrim. [she takes a good long drink]

Solemnar: … Perhaps. I’m not confirming nor denying anything. And, [he gazes at Lydia again] I think you’ve learnt a lot more about why I am the way I am.

Lydia: Well, yes. I won’t give too much away, but he’s very much a person with thoughts and feelings. He’s not this heartless monster made by the Dominion: he’s Solemnar ‘cal Galadhremmin, a mer from a little hunting family on the Summerset Isle, who is actually very good at singing when he’s not hurling fireballs at bandits. It’s… unfortunate that the Thalmor got their hands on you at such a young age.

Solemnar:… Thank you. I actually happen to think you’re a very intelligent woman with great instincts and an admirable aptitude for weaponry. In fact, I think my family would like you very much. You’ve got a good hunting frame, and I also think they’d approve of your ability to haul an elk several hundred paces over your shoulder, without help, might I add.

Q: Do you ever worry about one another?

Solemnar: [slightly tipsy] … Absolutely. Back at home, Lydia is what our culture would refer to as a ‘deathling’. It’s in reference to the shorter lifespan men have in comparison to mer. So, yes, I worry about that a lot. If I can stave it off in any way, then I will.

[Lydia rests a hand over her heart, sincerely]

Lydia: Aww, that’s actually really sweet. [she goes to pat his knee]

Solemnar: Don’t touch me. [mocking side-eye]

Lydia: Ruin it, you twat.

[he raises his eyebrow at her, and she turns back to the question at hand, taking in a deep breath]

Lydia: To answer this question, myself… Of course I worry about him. While he’s trying to prolong my life, he seems to be doing everything to make his own life shorter. It was only three days ago that I had to sprint into the Moss Mother Cavern because this idiot thought he could take on three spriggans without sustaining any sort of injury.

Solemnar: I needed to blow off steam.

Lydia: You’ll be blowing off something if I ever catch you pulling that sort of shit again.

[they eye each other whilst taking another mouthful of wine]

Solemnar: Save it for the bedroom, won’t you?

Lydia: I’m going to give you a thick ear.

Q: Lastly, heads or tails?

Both: [without hesitation] Heads.

[they look at each other with their lips pursed]

Solemnar: Ooh-

[Lydia punches him in the arm]

[gymleaderjesse]

Adam

I'm beggining to see that I must have a type, or used to, because Adam was another man that pretended to be tough to mask his queerness. But the second that bedroom door closed, he was a dick pig.

On-again-off-again wouldn't even begin to describe the relationship that Adam and I had, but the sex was always great. After a few drinks, his would submit.

I never liked bottoming much, and Adam pretended that he hated it, but after a few shots of fireball, he was open to a lot. I typically would start with a back rub, massaging his muscles and getting him nice and relaxed. I love ass, so I would never neglect it during a massage. After caressing and gently pushing his body around, I would get a little more aggressive.

I'd press my body against his while he was still face down, and grind my crotch against his ass. While he always liked to call himself a top, he would moan the second anything touched his hole - and let me tell you, it was magnificent.

While still grinding on him, I would grab his neck and hold him down. He always loved being pushed around and used. Next, my tongue would make its way into his tight hole. He never made much noise while getting fucked, but an occassional whimper would escape as I pushed deeper into him with my tongue.

Once he was wet, I would flip him over, kissing his nipples while gently holding his next. Occasionally grabbing his balls and teasing them by pulling them down towards his hole. As much as this man loved to be used, he couldn't handle bottoming with just spit, so I'd let him put as much lube on my cock as he wanted. He would carefully coat every inch of my thick shaft, massaging the head with his wet hands. He'd put a few drops on my hand, which I would use to circle his hole, and pushing my index finger inside to get him primed. He'd breathe a sigh of relief while I was inside him.

Here it comes, my fat dick head pushed against his tight, shaven hole. As the head breaks through, his eyes get bigger as he bites his lower lip. He never liked a slow build up, so once I know he's feeling it, I swiftly push in to the base.

Adam yelps as he his walls accommodate the girth of my curved cock. His hands grab my headboard as he's clearly struggling to keep from screaming. I stayed in him up to the base until his face relaxed back into pleasure, and I began to stroke him out. My balls slapping against his ass as he whimpered in pain and pleasure, and he reached for his cock, which was dripping at this point.

At this point, it was always a race to see who could last longer. As I pounded his ass, my cock got closer and closer to erupting, and if he didn't jerk off, the pressure on his prostate made him squirm.

"Finish for me, baby. Cum on your chest" I demanded as I gripped his neck.

His eyes narrow at me as I feel his ass constrict as he shoots ropes of cum onto his chest. This new tightness and his whimpers push me over the edge, and I tighten my grip on his neck asI blow my load into him, deep. The load was so huge that he knew I came from the new hot sensation in the depths of his abdomen. I push his legs back further as I pull out, making sure all of my cum stays contained in him.

"I'm so full of your cum" he whines as he lowers his legs back onto the bed.

"That's only the first one today," I respond "and you better keep it, I worked hard to put it there"