#it doesn't even change the story AT ALL if this dungeon never happens

[kalina-moonbride]

Copperbell Mines (ARR Dungeon)

For @voidsentprinces' "Countdown to Dawntrail"!

Context: Level 17 quest "Into a Copper Hell". Spoilers: Just that quest. Warnings: The general wtf'ery of said quest--slavery, capitalism

Kalina Jovasch stared at Papashan, across the table at the Quicksand. Blinked. Scratched her chin with the tip of a claw. "Let me see if I understand this right."

The Lalafell nodded. "Of course. Whatever questions you have about the petition, I can answer. Or perhaps Painted Mesa can."

"You enslaved these hecatoncheire folk."

Papashan tilted his head. "Well, now, I didn't enslave them. Nor did anyone still living. Our predecessors in the Thorne Dynasty did, centuries ago."

"Ah. Your people enslaved them. Then buried them. And now they're fighting back? As you say, understandably so."

"Yes." He shot a nervous glance at Momodi, who made a don't look at me face.

"And now you want me to put them back in their prison."

"Yes!"

"Let me think." She folded her arms, closed her eyes, tilted her head down, waited there for a few moments, making a show of it. Then all in a burst, she stood up from the table, shoving her chair backward and swatting the tabletop with the palm of a hand. "No way in all the hells."

Papashan flinched. "But... Ul'dah's economy..."

Kalina shook her head. "Nah. I won't have that blood on my hands. Talk to them, maybe? Or find yourself another mine. Or if you absolutely must crush this rebellion, I suggest teaming up with Garlemald. I hear they're into that sort of thing." Breathing through fury, she turned and left to seek work at some other adventuring guild.

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: You're back home right when Azriel was starting to lose all hope, but is the person standing in front of him the same who disappeared all those years ago?

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury

Word Count: 6670

Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 ○ Part 3

Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.

Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.

His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.

In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.

Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.

He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.

You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.

As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.

He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.

Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.

He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.

He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.

His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.

His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.

“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.

He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.

Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.

Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.

Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.

He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.

“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.

He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.

He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.

“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.

“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.

“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.

“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”

“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.

Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.

“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”

“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.

“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.

“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.

He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.

“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?

Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.

Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.

“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.

“I will not leave her.”

“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.

Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.

He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.

He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.

Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.

“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.

“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”

He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.

“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.

When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.

Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.

Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.

That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.

“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.

“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”

“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.

“Why would she hurt you then?”

“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.

“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.

“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”

“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?

“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.

“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”

“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”

Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.

⋆｡°✩°｡⋆

You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.

You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.

The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.

You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.

Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.

Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.

You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.

As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.

You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.

As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.

You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.

You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.

The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.

When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.

“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.

“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.

“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.

Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.

The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.

As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.

If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.

Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.

Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.

You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.

When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.

Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.

You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.

A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?

“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.

Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.

You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?

Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.

“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.

He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.

You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.

“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.

Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.

“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.

“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.

You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.

The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.

“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”

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[sunderwight]

crack scum villain theory: there is no "original" Shang Qinghua

how this works is, neither the world of SV nor the world of PIDW actually existed in any tangible sense before Airplane died. Airplane dying was actually the catalyst for the system, and whatever unfathomable cosmic entities are behind it, to recreate the world from the novel. that's why Airplane transmigrates into an infant, and also why the world mostly follows canon up until Airplane interacts too much with actual plot-relevant characters, and accidentally butterfly effects Shen Jiu into a fatal qi deviation. At which point the system determines that a dead Shen Qingqiu makes fulfilling the basic story requirements impossible or at least dangerously low in terms of odds, and brings in the second play (User 002, Shen Yuan).

SY is able to earn more points from the system than Airplane, but that's mostly thanks to his proximity to the protagonist not actual preferential treatment, and he seems to have more concrete restrictions on his behavior and limits on his mobility (OOC lock, entering into an already-established character, and of course being forced to ensure that Luo Binghe goes into the Endless Abyss) (this does make it ironic that he ultimately changes the most things). whereas Airplane seems to have more freedom to do as he pleases. the system doesn't even seem to dock him points for accidentally contributing to the death of a vitally plot-relevant character.

so the SV world was originally supposed to more or less just be the same as the PIDW world. it didn't change to any significant degree until Shen Jiu died.

I suspect, then, that the PIDW world which followed canon didn't exist as any kind of separate reality until Shen Jiu died of a fatal qi deviation and had to be replaced. at which point the system -- perhaps hedging its bets -- created two splintered timelines. one being the original sandbox for Airplane to play in and continue to alter, the other being a manufactured reflection of the story's original outcome, possibly to serve as some kind of emergency back-up character bank or reference outline.

which means that the PIDW version of this reality isn't a full and cohesive world. though of course the people there don't know that. it's mostly just a tool for the system, which is why we first encounter Bingge being utilized as an enforcer. Bingge and everyone else who exists in the PIDW reality, they all remember their past as the story and are at the end point of what Airplane had written, but none of it actually happened. they instead sprang into existence at their narrative end point.

since the Shang Qinghua of Airplane's novel died well before the end of the story, characters in the PIDW have various recollections of a "Shang Qinghua" and his death, but they are vague and ultimately do not reflect the tangible events of a world the way that the SV timeline does. they are artificial memories based on a story. PIDW Shen Jiu likewise never really existed, although SV Shen Jiu did. similarly, all the history of the SV world that supposedly happened before Shang Qinghua was born never actually happened either. that's all constructed as well, which means that in a weird kind of a way, no one in the world can actually be older than Shang Qinghua either. they can only have manufactured memories that give them that impression. which means Airplane is the oldest being in that entire universe. he'd even be older than his own parents, because they were created to be his parents the moment he was born.

so there's no other Shang Qinghua. everything prior to Airplane's transmigration in the SV world and prior to the last PIDW chapter in the PIDW world is like when a video game designer seeds a dungeon with a skeleton and a bunch of notes about how some lone adventurer got lost and died there. at no point in the game was there ever actually a live adventurer in place of that skeleton.

that's "original" Shang Qinghua. he doesn't exist, because in one reality he's only ever been a version of Airplane, and in another he's a skeleton in a video game dungeon.

[tossawary]

Regarding "The Hobbit" film trilogy, even if I ended up personally disliking and resenting how much time and focus the elf characters (and others) ended up taking away from the dwarves whom I think deserved more focus as rich internal characters (I know that studio pressures are a factor in that terrible love triangle and so on), I still... vaguely appreciate the effort to create and include named female characters like Tauriel, when the book is sadly lacking in them. I think she's fine, actually. Comparatively, there are many other elements in these adaptations that I think are much, MUCH worse.

But still, if you want to add female characters to this story, the obvious answer to me seems to be to just make half the Company into dwarf women? (With similarly fancy beards and other facial hair! Because I think that's fun.) It's just... so much easier?

Do NOT come at me with that "dwarf women are rare" bullshit. Unreliable narration. Logistically unlikely. Also, if you believe that "men are the warriors and craftsmen, the women stay at home" is how dwarf society strictly functions (boring, honestly, on top of being incredibly sexist), I could argue that the Battle of Azanulbizar and other struggles probably left a significant dent in this dwarf group's male population, leaving behind many widows and mothers without children to pick up the work. The battlefields have come to and TAKEN both Erebor and Moria from the dwarves. I see no good reason why dwarf women would not have equal investment in reclaiming their home and the gold. Many of the Company are not presented to be formally trained warriors, anyway.

Now, ideally, we could do way queerer stuff in terms of both romance and gender here, but we know cowards with veto powers would not let this happen. Still, I feel like basic genderbending would have been a very doable move and is, actually, a very reasonable ask of an adaptation that would have added some depth to the story even if you didn't acknowledge the change at all.

Like, preferably, this would be an adaptational change that would be directly addressed. Maybe all of the Company appear male at first due to traveling that way (and assumptions made by humans and hobbits), then Bilbo might learn that some of the Company are dwarf women when he becomes closer to all of them. We could have a brief scene acknowledging that dwarf women are fighting these battles for their pasts and their futures too. It doesn't have to be a big thing! They can just be there. Existing. Participating.

I even think it would be fun if two of the dwarves were actually an older married couple traveling together, instead of brothers or cousins, because loving married bickering and battle couples are fun. You can have running jokes in the background about how Smaug's invasion ruined their wedding day, and going back and forth with "you never take me anywhere nice" @ each other whenever they're stuck in Goblintown or the Mirkwood dungeons. (I like seeing good marriages & partnerships in fiction and established couples going on fantasy quests together. I just think it's neat.)

But another (sillier) direction is that you could just cast some actresses in beards to play some of the dwarves, then leave the fact that some of these characters are probably dwarf women (traveling as men) as a fun detail for the audience. Bilbo is either too oblivious to notice or much too polite to bring it up at all. It's canonically compliant to the text this way!

Now, obviously some few people would have complained that Tolkien's work was being ruined by "political correctness", but they complained anyway about Tauriel (when there are MANY other bad choices in these movies), and what worthwhile arguments could they have possibly made against genderbending some of the THIRTEEN dwarves? Like, most casual fans I know cannot NAME the entire Company, who get so little character development in the book that the films had to come up with unique designs and backgrounds for most of them anyway. Bro (directed towards someone objecting to the idea of including female dwarves), be real, there's no way that you honestly cared this much about "Nori the Dwarf" before right now.

[sebaztianlovesgeek]

THE NON CANON PARTS OF THE BLACK BUTLER ANIME IN BOTH SEASON 1 AND 2 AND ALSO THE SPECIALS WERE WILD

(in no particular order)

Ciel hires a random naked dog man who can turn into a giant wolf to be his servant even though he literally does nothing around the manor and just hangs out with Finny all the time

Finny forms a crush on a character we later find out is an angel named Angela and after the dog village arc ends we never hear of his crush again

For the most part the curry arc is the same, but for some reason they decided to change the ending. In the manga Lau and Ranmao killed Nina and her husband, in the anime everyone becomes evil by eating curry, and Sebastian had to feed them all his curry buns to turn them all good again, WHAT??

Sebastian has sex with a Nun in some cult church

Angela took Vincent and Rachel's bodies and stitched them into a weird Frankenstein looking thing because apparently that would combine their souls in the afterlife so they could be together forever

Also the whole thing with Ciel being kidnapped by the cult is never explained despite Queen Victoria and Angela being responsible for the death of his parents, therefore you'd think they'd also be responsible for the whole cult thing? But they would have no reason to sell a 10 year old to be abused by a cult-

Ash (aka Angela because they're the same person) turns Queen Victoria into A FREAKING LOLI

Ciel is framed for drug trafficking

Sebastian is arrested and kept in a torture dungeon for like 3 days where he is BDSM whipped by Angela for some reason

Fred Abberline dies

Fred before he dies mentions he doesn't have any family yet he has a brother who shows up in season 2-

Lau and Ranmao die yet they also show up in season 2

Lizzy gets kidnapped by a doll man and is almost turned into a doll zombie (not a bizarre doll just a doll zombie)

Sebastian ditches Ciel in France for some reason

Ciel finds Undertaker on some random boat and then Undertaker tells him he's gonna freakin' die

London is on fucking fire

Who caused the fire? Pluto. And thats the only part of the story where he is relevant

The final fight between Sebastian and Ash/Angela is fucking awesome though

In season 2 Ciel is just in a suitcase and has amnesia

Alois pokes Hannah's eye out for spilling a drink or something

Ciel and Lizzy try to find a deer or something and everyone thinks they're gonna break up after just 1 argument

Lau even started a gambling thing where people put down their bets on whether or not Ciel and Lizzy were gonna break up

Some weird old lady set random people on fire because she didn't like her husband, for some reason the fire disintegrated the souls so Grell couldn't collect them which doesn't make sense

Some weird bullshit happens on a train with a Pharaoh, a murderer and Sebastian being cool like always

Alois has a dress up party at his house

Soma and Agni cry because Ciel has amnesia

Soma is dressed up as Sherlock Holmes even though black butler takes place before that came out

Lizzy dresses up as a Native American, lets just say she's lucky Twitter didn't exist in the Victorian Era

Kinda like the whole curry thing everyone turns evil except its from music from a magic instrument Hannah plays and not curry, and Sebastian stops it by playing his own music kind of like the final battle in Equestria Girls Rainbow Rocks

Alois crossdresses and turns Ciel bi curious

Sebastian and Claude have sexual tension in the lake

Ciel and Alois have a sword fight, Ciel is thrown off a balcony and Alois is stabbed

"PLEASE HELP ME CLAUDE, HELP ME I'M DYING 😭"

We soon find out about Alois' backstory and it's actually quite sad and hits a bit close to home for me, I won't go into detail but the poor kids been through a lot, Alois is genuinely an interesting and kind of well written character its a shame he was put in the non canon pile of shite

Claude then crushed Alois' skull and takes his soul and puts it in a ring

Kids are getting their eyeballs ripped out and apparently Alois is doing all of this, but for some reason Scotland yard THINKS CIEL IS ALOIS WHICH IS SO DUMB BECAUSE THEY'VE BEEN WORKING WITH HIM EVER SINCE HE BECAME THE QUEENS CORGI GUARD DOG

He is taken to some doctor and is dumped into a pool of gatorade to fuse his and Alois' souls

Ciel's backstory is basically half of Alois' and half of Ciel's and thinks Sebastian killed his brother Luca

Ciel doesn't like Claude because Claude is a goober

Hannah does a weird thing with Ciel she like... Possesses him? And his eyeball appears in her mouth or something? I had no idea what was going on

Soon it is revealed Hannah was the one who ate Luca's soul and is now feeling like a mother figure for Alois because of it

Grell shows up again (yay) and she keeps trying to take sexy photos of Sebastian

Soon Claude and Sebastian end up at a maze thingy and they need to answer trivia questions to get to Alois/Ciel's soul

Soon they go to some demon island and they end up fighting using a demon sword while Ciel and Alois talk about shit in some void

Claude fucking dies (rip goober)

Alois' soul is finally set free and the poor kid gets to be with his little brother again

Hannah turns Ciel into a demon so Sebastian can no longer eat his soul so Sebastian just becomes Ciel's butler for all eternity and I lowkey feel bad for him, because yeah eating childrens souls is wrong but BRO WORKED SO HARD HE LITERALLY BANGED A NUN FOR THIS CHILD AND THIS IS THE THANKS HE GETS??

Ciel and Sebastian fake their death, the end of season 2 and a few years after that the ACTUAL CONTINUATION OF THE CANON PARTS come out

Ciel in wonderland is very silly

Sebastian as the rabbit is hot for some reason, does that make me a furry?

There is a lot of weird fan service, for example Ranmao keeps shoving her boobs and butt into Ciel's face... LADY THAT IS A 13 YEAR OLD YOU CANT DO THAT-

I'm glad it wasn't canon because I love Ranmao and she would never do that in canon

Madame Red as the queen of hearts is very cool

Weebalu already mentioned this but I wish J Michael Tatum (Sebastian's dub voice actor) did a Alice In Wonderland audiobook in the Sebastian voice

The one where Ciel puts on a play for hamlet was funny, the part where they're practicing is funny because its like an actual theatre club

Soma and Agni are the kids who are always eating, Ciel is the kid who just sucks at acting, Grell is the one who is great at acting but is very annoying and Sebastian is the theatre teacher who wants to commit kms because of all of these stupid kids

Ranmao is seaweed

Grell tries to commit incest during the play-

The special where its basically a 'behind the scenes' thing kind of like an actor AU

Sebastian is a fucking 2010's boy band looking lad

Grell is just amazing in this

In the final "trailer" Grell got pregnant, Queen Victoria built a giant robot, Claude tried to destroy the world with the fucking moon, Hannah... Uhhh lets not talk about what she did, a whole load of "I am your father" type plot twists took place and Alois was Ciel and Sebastian's great great great great great great grand-

The special where theres this character who's basically a self insert but she's a white girl so if you're not either of those its kind of hard getting into it (cries in gay guy)

The POV shots look like something out of Dora The Explorer

Soma wants to marry us for some reason, I wouldn't mind that he's cute

We also get kidnapped by Viscous Druitt for no reason and then Sebastian and Grell save us from a boat in the middle OF THE OCEAN

Finally Will The Reaper (I'm sure there are more specials but I'm lazy)

Grelliam galore

Probably one of the best specials because Grell and William are the main focus and they're just the absolute best

[rollforfelicity]

Why Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves Didn't Use D&D Combat Rules (And Why They Were Right Not To)

The D&D movie was really fun, and since at this point most of my friends play D&D (or at the very least other TTRPGs), almost everyone I talk to on a regular basis has also seen it and liked it. The consensus is that even though there's no "meta" that the characters are controlled by players sitting around a table, or jokes about the DM, the movie feels like D&D. The jokes feel like jokes people would make while playing. The constant pivoting from Plan A to Plan B to Plan C feels familiar to anyone who has spent an hour at a table deciding what to do, only to have a roll go sideways and screw things up. Before I get too far, I should say this post contains some mild spoilers for Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves.

What didn't feel like D&D were the fight scenes. In one scene, a Paladin quickly dispatches a group of enemies before any of the rest of the party even acts, showcasing that even though he's kind of a square, he's an incredible fighter. In another scene, the Barbarian grabs and wears a helmet in the middle of a fight, using it creatively to get the upper hand. During a fight against a gargoyle, the Bard blinds an enemy by throwing a blanket over their head, but gets pulled along with them when a loose rope wraps around his leg. These are all pretty big moments in the movie, and Rules as Written, would never happen at a D&D table, because D&D combat doesn't work like that.

Here's what I think is interesting. The vast majority of the rules of D&D revolve around combat. It's not all of the rules, but most class abilities, spells, items, and rules have a combat focus. So why does a movie that functions partially as advertisement for the game spend so little effort to replicate the bulk of the content of the base game?

In my opinion, it's because, Rules As Written (or RAW), combat in D&D is not, generally speaking, narratively satisfying. Let's look at a few reasons why.

D&D is a game where, RAW, things either happen, or they don't. If someone misses an attack, nothing happens. If someone misses a skill check, nothing happens. DMs can work with this, but in the base game, there isn't a lot of guidance for what to do when a player fails at something they're trying to do. This may seem trivial, but compare that to something like Powered By The Apocalypse, which is much more narratively focused. In those games, a full miss means the Game Master changes things up. The enemy gets the upper hand. A new danger surfaces. An NPC is put into peril. Not only does the player fail at what they're trying to do, but something else, bad for the Player Character (PC) but good for the story, happens. On a mixed success, the PC might get what they're after, but at a cost, or with a complication they weren't expecting.

This calls to mind the example of the Bard throwing a tarp over the gargoyle in the final fight of the D&D movie. That's a classic example of a mixed success. He succeeds at temporarily blinding the creature, but in the process, he gets caught up in the gargoyle's rope and is dragged along for a ride. This is a dynamic thing to happen in combat, but wouldn't happen in actual D&D. Instead, a PC would either succeed at what they're doing, and blind the creature, or fail and not blind them. You could argue that the Bard's action was the result of a Natural 1, but that also doesn't fit RAW, because the Bard does succeed as what he's trying to do, and with a Natural 1, he would have failed and been pulled along.

D&D doesn't really reward player creativity. Something like throwing a tarp over a creature wouldn't be likely to happen in a session at all, because in the actual game, it would take a full action to do that, and depending on the Difficulty Challenge (DC) the DM sets, there's a good chance of a wasted turn. Creative actions end up a huge gamble, and when you're playing a game where it could be 20+ minutes before you get to take another turn (more like an hour if you're playing with a Wizard, amirite), you're disincentivized from "wasting" your turn to do something less than optimal. You can describe what you're doing to add to the narrative, whether you succeed or fail, but that brings me to my next point.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this question from Rise Up Comus since I read it a month ago. In D&D, a player can describe all kinds of flavor to what they're doing, and there's no change to the mechanics of the game. You could read this as saying "Oh, well that means you have the freedom to do what you want!" but if you look at game design through the lens of "what kind of play does this game encourage or discourage" the takeaway I have is that description just...doesn't matter to D&D. In my experience, that can lead to a few different unsatisfactory outcomes.

Both players and DM treat combat as purely rolling, and describing only what is required. A DM announces, "The enemy wizard casts fireball, roll dexterity save, take 25 damage. Turn passes to the Rogue." Sometimes players who describe what they're doing are seen as showboating or taking up too much time. Worst case scenario, the DM penalizes descriptive players.

Some players like describing what they do, others don't. This has no mechanical effect on the game. Players who aren't descriptive might be frustrated that an already slow process is slowed down even more. Descriptive players may become frustrated because there's no mechanical benefit to what they're describing, and spend time fruitlessly arguing with the DM that focusing on a weak point of the enemy should give them advantage. I think most tables fall into this category. It's not a bad game by any means, but not everyone is there for the same reason when it comes to combat.

Rule of Cool Table! Everyone describes whatever they want, the dice rolls don't really matter! Combat is generally pretty easy because fuck the rules, if it's cool for the dragon to die based on how the fighter described the attack, even if it's only the first round of combat, hell yeah let's do it! For players who like being more strategic and enjoy the confines of the rule structure because it makes things challenging, these tables can be frustrating. (If you're familiar with Dungeons & Daddies, this is essentially how they play D&D).

Because there's no guideline in the rules, people come to the table with different expectations. Some people want combat to feel like a strategy game, where following the rules in the most optimal way (or combining rules elements in an unexpected way) is mechanically rewarding (usually measured by damage output). Some people want to describe themselves doing cool stuff! Some people don't care about their characters looking cool, but want the story to be compelling. If everyone isn't on the same page, this can lead to players ending combat feeling unfulfilled, and when combat is the bulk of a rules set, it feels strange to me that there's no guidance for DMs or players as to how to incentivize the kind of combat your table is interested in.

This leads to a situation where combat in D&D is the part of D&D that takes the longest, that the majority of spells and abilities are focused on, but it is, narratively, the least satisfying part of the game, unless the table alters the base rules significantly.

If you're not familiar with other TTRPGs, you might be thinking "Okay, but that's why the DM is allowed to do whatever they want and make up new rules! My DM gives inspiration when we describe something cool, that solves this problem!" My critique isn't necessarily of individual tables. DMs and players come up with all kinds of mechanics that aren't in the rules. My critique is that D&D is a role-playing game that essentially has no incentives, and many disincentives, for role-playing during combat. For example, RAW, characters don't really have time to communicate during their turns, as each round takes about 6 seconds. There's no time for banter or negotiation between PCs and enemies. You can see this disconnect by the way people talk about D&D. How many times have you heard people say "I love D&D but I don't like combat?" How could this rift be rectified? Let's take a look at some other TTRPGs.

In 7th Sea, if you take the time to describe how your character is doing something, you get a bonus to your dice pool. In Thirsty Sword Lesbians, when you get a mixed success on a Fight roll, you and your opponent are given narrative prompts to build tension (like flirt with or provoke your opponent). In Kids on Bikes, you can fail or succeed rolls by different number ranks, which determines how significant the successes or failures are. In Wanderhome, you get a token when you "take a moment to bask in the grandeur of the world, and describe it to the table." In Good Society, each player gets a "monologue token" which they can spend to prompt another player to deliver their Main Character's internal monologue. I just played a bad-action-movie-themed game called Action 12 Cinema, where players can boost a roll if they call out the song that would be playing during this scene of the movie, and get an even FURTHER boost if anyone at the table sings it.

Each of those game mechanics gives you an instant understanding into the mood of the game, and the kind of stories its built for you to tell. Even if you've never heard of any of those games, I bet, based on the title and the move, that you could hazard a guess as to what playing the game is like. Dungeons & Dragons certainly has rules that add to the lore of the game, and prompt you to create characters that act a certain way. But when it comes to combat, players and DMs are left to their own devices. Some may see that as a strength of the game, but I see it as a source for a lot of disappointing play experiences.

And it seems as though, at the very least, the writers of Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves thought the combat rules were narratively unsatisfying enough that they eschewed using any of them.

[velvetvexations]

The thing about comparing Kipperlilly's grudge to hating DEI and affirmative action is that those things are exactly what she's advocating for. The Bad Kids are not receiving accommodation for anything - and in fact Aguefort seems like the type to despise things like accommodations and would tell disabled people to pick themselves up by their bootstraps, but I digress -rather, they have direct connections to massive save-the-world plots three years in a row now that puts them way ahead of everyone else. Though they put in hard work, that doesn't change the fact that no one else working as hard as they can will ever equal being told to go stop a god from coming back and coincidentally your dad (a) worked directly with that dead god's primary agent in the past and (b) is now a super cool angel secret agent who will directly assist you in the task. Oh, and also, your teammate's parents are the dead god's primary mortal agents. And also they kidnapped your other teammate's dad because he's a powerful demon lord so now she's involved too. And you all happen to end up on Leviathan, where Fabian is an instant celebrity who immediately gets a cult worshiping the planks he walks on because they all work for his rich undead infernal dad.

The issue is that people keep mapping it to the real world and seeing "tragic backstory" like it would be IRL, which is a mistake. It's not a disability. They don't go to normal school to become accountants or NASA engineers, they are there to be doing exactly that shit that their backstories rope them into. Like, this isn't Buffy, they aren't saving the world incidentally, this is school for saving the world to pursue a career in saving the world. Spyre functions so differently from IRL that everyone is dramatically failing to comprehend the actual situation everyone is in.

And the thing about hating affirmative action is that it presumes someone only got into whatever not because they have skill, but because of their race or something like that. That's manifestly different from what's going on here. Kipperlilly has no doubt the Bad Kids are incredibly powerful and skilled - but their backstories gave them opportunities to use that power and skill that no one else will ever have regardless of effort or even luck. The Bad Kids can't go five seconds without tripping over the revelation that the BBEG for the year is one of their second cousins. That just doesn't happen to other people, period. The world revolves around the BK's in ways it will never revolve around anyone else so the Bad Kids will always get the massive adventures to save the world and be the top of their class because they're personally connected to the narrative.

Remember, Brennan has confirmed that other AA students do not do shit like that. They do exactly the sort of missions you'd expect them to - go in dungeon, fight monsters, come back. It's not "uh, the Rat Grinders should have just gone out and saved the world too", that's not how it works. AA students are not usually expected to, their rat grinding is just a more tedious and efficient version of what they would be doing otherwise. The BK's don't get involved with these plots simply because they're the most heroic heroes ever who seek wrongs to right, they do it because every single time everyone but Gorgug (who is for the most part absent major narrative stakes) was born someone that would get those in's, feats reproducible by no one else.

"Ah, but the Seven-"

The Seven prove the tragedy of it. Because Kipperlilly is right, but she's also wrong. The brilliance of BLeeM this season is that he's crafted a narrative inseparable from the meta of how the game works. In a very real way this is like the Dungeons & Dragons versions of Tron. The fact that it's a series of fictional TTRPG sessions is essential to the universe and it's story, in a Twin Peaks-ian way.

Because, see, it's not actually, technically magical trauma that gives out those narrative advantages. Magical trauma is just the most obviously visible side-effect. What the issue actually is is that, as everyone has noted over and over again, the Rat Grinders are NPCs, and it is therefore impossible for the world to ever bend itself around them the way it does for the PCs. Except, most are just saying that as a funny haha joke.

No, like, literally, that's the issue. They will always be in the shadow of the handful of people that the people constructing their world, their timeline, their very existence, has decided matter. They are doomed by narrative causality to be "boring". And I'm going to take a moment to say here, isn't it crazy no one is talking about this when we just got done with Neverafter which was all about this exact thing????? Like, literally the BBEG was the Authors. That is the situation here, more or less.

Anyway, there will never be a demon attacking that due to a curse is only vulnerable to hot licks from Ruben's guitar passed down from the first gnomish rocker. Mary Ann will never be the prophesized liberator of kobolds enslaved in dragon dens. Ivy will never find out her father was secretly a super-soldier for the Council of Chosen who before he was assassinated left her notes detailing a sinister plot within the government of Solace.

People keep having a hard time with this because it intuitively doesn't feel right to ever classify something like losing a father in any context to have some kind of bright side. But if you take nothing else away from this post, let it be this: Adventuring as it's done in Spyre is not something done in the real world. Adventuring is something everyone chose to go to AA to learn and put into practice as their long-term career. And in that, absolutely these things give the PCs a completely one hundred percent insurmountable leg-up on the thing they're all in competition for.

And it being completely insurmountable in that way further goes to show the difference between hating that situation and hating affirmative action. Even AA is not a guarantee that a specific member of the majority will lose out on something and a specific member of the minority will get it instead. As soon as the character sheets were rolled everyone else at Aguefort may as well have just gone home and started studying to be accountants because the main characters had been chosen. Or they could keep going and hope they get a spin-off, I guess.

But Kipperlilly does keep trying, for she doesn't really comprehend the true eldritch horror beyond her existence shackled to the bits of a bunch of comedians, and her solution is to adjust for those unfair advantages.

Which is affirmative action.

How is that not obvious.

[oh-dameron]

Noodling on an "Oops! Back In Time!" story idea where the Straw Hats sail through a Grand Line anomaly or whatever and wake up as they were about thirteen years in the past.

Robin is seventeen, still on the run in West Blue. She'd wake up, run down the list of her nakama to decide who needs help first: Franky and Jimbe are grown men already, they're fine, they can handle themselves. The East Blue crew are all little kids. To the best of her knowledge the tragedies that shaped their lives haven't happened yet and won't for a while. They're safe for now.

Chopper is a baby reindeer, probably hasn't eaten his fruit yet. Brook is currently unreachable to her, without a ship or a crew, but Franky is right there in Water 7 with a fleet of battleships that he needs to get rid of before they can be used to frame Tom. Maybe she can assume he'll take care of it.

Sanji is still in Germa kingdom. He's not safe at all.

Robin, who only looks seventeen, pulls out her mad skills as a spy and top-tier pirate and member of the actual Revolutionary Army and hustles to North Blue in record time, snapping necks and serving cunt the whole way. She infiltrates the fuck out of Germa 66 and is on the palace flagship before you can say Security Clearance. Robin's not stupid enough to dangle the poneglyphs or the Ancient Weapons in front of Judge: that's a carrot he would never stop chasing. No, she claims to have details of Vegapunk and Caesar's work on artificial devil fruits, counting on spite to get her through. It does. Robin was at Punk Hazard and Dressrosa and Wano: she knows enough details to make it plausible, and she's a trained academic to boot. She can make it sound right, even if it's not her field, even if it's made-up nonsense that will hopefully have Judge chasing his own tail for years.

Meanwhile, every night she's sending eyes and ears all over the palace looking for the missing third prince. Officially, the kingdom is still in mourning for the double tragedy of losing their Queen and one of the princes in quick succession. Robin cannot find any trace of grief in Judge or his remaining children, even when she's invited to dine with the royal family (there are still two empty chairs at the table, and she's ushered into one of them as though it was nothing. Luckily, she's had decades of keeping calm in the face of casual brutality to perfectly hone her poker face).

It doesn't take her long to find the stairs going down, down into the dark. And there's a dungeon at the bottom, a barred cell containing an eight-year old child who looks so much smaller than his brothers. He's covered in bruises and there's a metal horror wrapped around his head and casual brutality be damned, there are two wolves inside Robin right now and one of them wants to sit down and weep and the other one wants to snap Judge's neck and then tear this castle down brick by brick. Except. Tiny Sanji is doing a one-handed handstand in the middle of his cell. It's a bit wobbly, and he tumbles off-balance when he sees her, but there's nothing wobbly about the smile on the little she can see of his face when he runs to her.

"Robin-chwan!" he chirps, hugging her through the bars. "I knew I couldn't be the only one who came back! I'm so lucky to be rescued by such a dashing lady!" He peers at her through the helmet, eyes huge and blue and earnest. "You got here so fast! Who else is with you? Are you OK?"

And it's just so Sanji, who knows as well as she does where the rest of the crew is-better, probably-to think that she'd go to anyone else before coming here. As though his problems could wait while everyone else is taken care of first.

"Now that I've found you I'm quite alright, Sanji. The crew is just you and me for now, but I'm sure we'll soon change that."

He does a little spin of delight at having her all to himself, and it's the simple glee of a small child spending time with a favourite person. Robin smiles, and retrieves the keys, and holds his tiny hand all of the way out of the castle as he chatters about how amazing she is and who they'll go to find next. They sail away, leaving the palace in flames behind them.

[afatlotofchance]

And finally I can complete my series of notes and observations about weight gain in fantasy works (at least for now... More shall probably come in the future). As I said before I wanted to put side by side two "weight gains showing the protagonist's change of lifestyle/mindset" from fantasy literature, but I didn't have time to complete the post. So, oppose to Dragonlance's weight gain, I want to tell you about one weight gain instance from Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser.

If you don't know about it, this series of short stories and novellas is one of the big classics of heroic fantasy. It is the most famous creation of Fritz Leiber, the man who coined the term "sword and sorcery" (which F&tGM embodies), and it was a key inspiration from other famous fantasy behemoths, from Dungeons and Dragons to Discworld. It started out as a pastiche+subversion+ironic take on the traditional Conan-like stories and other Lovecraft-like pulp tales, but then became a more serious and straightforward fantasy later on. It is also the source of a LOT of things considered today "fantasy tropes". Like the idea of a Guild of Thieves. That's Leiber who invented it, as a joke for his fantasy world. Today people treat it like a serious part of fantasy worldbuilding but... it started out as a friggin' joke. To show that the city of Lankhmar (main setting of the adventures) was so corrupted even the thieves had a guild.

All in all this series is famous for being of a sly and cynical form of humor, and the weight gain in question happens during one of the most famous short stories of the series, a dark humor adventure titled "Lean Times in Lankhmar". The basic plot is simple: the two protagonists, the titular Fafhrd (tall and muscular barbarian with the voice of an opera singer and the heart of a poet-bard) and Gray Mouser (small, thin, joke-cracking, cunning trickster/rogue/clown-thief) end up splitting their iconic duo after a big fight, and each give up their life of thieves, mercenaries and adventurers to find new jobs within the city of Lankhmar. And what interests us is what happens to the Mouser.

"Lean Times in Lankhmar" is a satire of religion, which depicts how cults an worships are treated as a corrupted showbusiness in the city, and the new job Mouser finds is by being part of a sort of "religious mafia", which taxes street-preachers and the priests of temples so that no "accidents" happens to them. His job is basically to be the agent and messenger of the "big boss", coming in to collect the "taxes" (deduced from the popularity of the god of the priest racketted on the day), but using thugs and lower agents to do the dirty work such as "convincing" the reluctant payers to spit up the money. This new job allows him a life of riches and powers while not doing any particular physical job, and it is explicitely said that during these "lean times in Lankhmar" he indulges into sweets and foods to the point of growing quite fat. (Something especially unusual since he is the tiny, thin, small and skinny member of the duo)

Of course, this is all part of a metaphor (made explicit by the end of the story) of how, when Fafhrd and the Mouser are apart from each other, and not doing their usual adventures, their life and personality go completely off-rail, and at the end the Mouser, quitting his job and leaving Lankhmar, shivers at the idea of what kind of bloated, corrupted, fat leech he could have become. It also doesn't help that, at several moments in the story, it is pointed out how his weight gain robbed him of a part of his physical abilities (his belly has gotten large enough that he has some trouble crouching down, and his lack of physical exercise made him exhausted after running down the streets of the city, something that never happened to him before). By the sequel story (which is I think the one about the daughters, or wives, of the Sea-King) he returns to his former, fit self, but not after a segment of the narrative describing the many physical exercises he imposed upon himself to melt down his fat belly.

Now, I promised you pictures, didn't I? Half of the Fafhrd and Mouser stories were adapted into comic book format by Mike Mignola, of the Hellboy fame, and this half does contain "Lean Times in Lankhmar"! Given Mignola's unique style, the weight gain is... well a bit stylized. But you still have one visual depiction of the fat-Mouser (I don't think anybody actually illustrated Lean Times in Lankhmar in a way to depict the Mouser with his newfound belly)

[moramaisis]

Characters: Ascended Astarion x tav tiefling Pairing: M/F Status: Happily evil together. In a stable relationship. Warnings: Heavy smut, murder, villain couple, dark romance, dark humor, unhinged horniness. Long story! Keywords: Mutual masturbation, hand job, rim job, oral sex, threesome, biting, vaginal sex, light dom/sub, light degrading, femdom, teasing. Notes: This is a third story....yeah.....it's sad. The brainrot is thriving. It's smut with a plot and i tried to world-build, though it might stray away from canon...a little. Ao3 Summary: After defeating the Elder Brain ascended Astarion and his tiefling bride decide to travel the world. The first place they visit is a town in the north with interesting pagan traditions. The couple gets bored after a while and Arsenia proposes they convert their first spawn. A certain elf of high class has caught her eye and the couple decides to seduce him.

After everything was over, it was time to move on. I said i didn't want to settle down and Astarion has been stuck for 200 years. Stuck in those 200 years. He wanted to see the world. I was used to travelling and could travel some more.

I said we could hang a map on the wall and throw daggers at it, see where fate takes us. He said i was too dramatic.

„I excelled in geography and i'm very good with daggers, my love. I couldn't make a random throw even if i was blindfolded.“

I said i will throw him at the map if he doesn't make a choice. So, we did the next best thing. We were staying at an inn, so, i went downstairs, snatched the most disheveled drunk and threw him at the map. He survived the encounter, but the mark left by his bloody nose was enough to start our quest. The location happened to be lovely as well. We were quite lucky, as it appeared.

Before leaving we had to make a one last trip to the Cazador's palace. Astarion gathered his mortal minions and gave them instructions to clean out the castle. There were a lot of gore leftovers in the dungeons. The castle had to be maintained while we were gone. A few days later we rented a carriage and left Baldur's Gate. I wore a suit topped with a long coat. I considered a dress, but decided against it. Astarion made sure that my suit was made from the best fabrics and finely tailored. I had never felt so fancy in my life. Our destination was a large town in the North, it was a place i have never been to.

As we approached our destination the landscape began to change dramatically. Dense forests encircled boulder fields, eroding cliff edges broke the surface of meadows coated in dead grasses. The closer we got, the whiter the earth became. One morning we opened the carriage curtains to witness falling snow. Air became colder, snow thickened. Soon we exchanged our carriage for a horse-drawn sleigh.

We entered the town coated in furs and blankets, with frosty eyelashes and visible breath. It was very different to the views we were used to, however, it was breathtaking. The streets were decorated with lanterns, evergreen branches hanging from doors and windows. Colorful ribbons and ornaments - woven from twigs, hay and carved from wood - adorned the greenery. We rented a small house near the wall and sat by the fireplace. The nights were long and short days heavily clouded. Every morning workers shovelled snow on the streets. Strange creatures of all sorts pulled sleighs around town, horses, furry horned beasts, odd deer-looking things. Even a couple pulled by dogs!

Daily walks became our routine, my hand in the crook of my lover's arm, both of us dressed in furs.

„I can't believe i killed 7000 spawn just to move to a place without the sun,“ Astarion groaned as we were walking between shops.

„What is your obsession with the sun? Do you want a fucking tan?“

„I'd look great with a tan, you must admit,“ Astarion smiled amusedly.

„You look good in anything, beloved,“ i teased him. „I like it here. It's beautiful, peaceful, the air smells fresh…“

„That's because the sewers are frozen, my love.“

“That certainly helps,“ i smirked, gazing up at the sky as flashes of color snaked across the darkness. „Look up. You can't see that in Baldur's Gate.“

Astarion turned his eyes to the sky and we both watched the Northern Lights in silence.

“I have seen these before. Back when i used to travel and work as a blade for hire. I always wanted to see them again.“ I fought back distant memories, now that time has passed a dusting of bittersweetness coated them. Astarion caught on to that.

“Is that longing in your voice that i hear ?“

“Maybe“, i sighed.

Astarion turned to face me and took my hands. „Sounds like you're missing your former life filled with danger and adventure. We don't have to carry on like this, you know. Pretending to be an honorable married couple. We're on vacation, after all. We can do whatever we want.“

I squeezed his hand, bringing it close to my heart. „You're so sweet that you're making my teeth rot. I don't want to spoil our fun. I love travelling with you and i need a vacation. It's just…i liked my job. New day, new person to find, a new skull to smash. There were ups and downs, for sure, and i don't miss working for assholes…but….i feel like an impostor. We don't quite fit in, do we, love?“

He liked my train of thought, it was safe to say he felt the same.

“I always knew you're a thrill-seeker, it's one of the many things i love about you. So, tell me, what twisted little ideas are festering in that demented brain of yours?“

My smirk grew wider, menacing and flirty. „Too early to say. The city needs exploring. But, lover, you'll be the first to know.“ I reached out and twirled a curl of Astarion's hair, then ran my hand down the front of his coat possessively. I have always been very…tactile. „Lets pay less glamorous parts of this city a visit, shall we?“

“Excellent choice, my treasure. Lets remember the good old times.“

We walked to the poor section of the town. Buildings were smaller here, still in good condition, but visibly older. It was like going back in time. People walking past us were also dressed simply, mainly wearing goat or sheep skin coats. Astarion spotted a lively pub and we entered the rustic, dimly lit building. We took a seat near the back and gave a lovely maiden, who approached our table, the order. Coins were exchanged and our drinks arrived soon. Astarion got himself a cup of wine, while i took some ale. Both locally brewed, with unusual spicy additives, and pretty good!

The buzz hit me quickly and i relaxed on the bench. We were eavesdropping and the conversations were exactly what you'd expect to hear in a pub. Although, one peaked my interest. It was held by a two men behind a corner table. The taller man was chewing on some dried meat, while the stouter one was downing his ale.

“The solstice is coming, i promised my daughter a new skirt. She will be taking part in the celebrations, doing the ritual. It's not proper to show up in a patched dress. She wants to impress someone, she said,“ spoke the taller man.

The other nodded in a daze. „I will be at home. Marena will be working.“

“Working during celebrations?“

The stout man sighed, „She's working at the house of Anvegg now. She's in the kitchen and the fancy folk are having a ball. All the big noses will be there.“

“Right, right. It's not posh enough to celebrate amongst the commoners.“

I scraped my claw on the table, it was our sign that i was interested. Astarion looked at me with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Felt an urge to mingle with high society? Although, crashing a ball would be an act of rebellion in itself. These kind of things are usually invitation only.“

“I think the house of Anvegg is one of the oldest elf families ruling this town.“ This town had more elves and half-elves than any other race. It was quite diverse otherwise, except for humans. It would be curious to see the forces behind this place. Especially as old as these.

Astarion's eyes unfocused, he was somewhere else for a second. „Hmm, Cazador had spawn for these kinds of activities. Prowling around crowded places, hiding in dark alleyways, sharpening fangs on unwilling necks…“

“…and look where it got him. Tigers who don't hunt become lazy. And overconfident.“ I filled the pause, spitting venom at that lost name.

Astarion smirked, he seemed to experience a special kind of joy each time i bad-mouthed his former master. I liked to indulge him, but he knew i was right. I wasn't going to let my lover become stagnant, he was mine and i will look after him.

“It does feel nice being back in the trenches,“ he admitted. „Watching the events unfold, being in control.“

I touched his hand, my face hidden by shadow. My touch was passionate as i played with his fingers. I wanted to reassure him, bring him some peace of mind. Every time he mentioned his former master i felt a violent impulse to cuss out Cazador. However, his reminiscing was becoming more frequent. After the ritual his confidence was soaring, just mentioning his former master's name could send him into rage. Time passed and he started to change. He began mentioning his spawn life again. Something about that filled me with sadness and a carnal desire to comfort him.

“Control is everything, my darkest desire,“ i lulled a song of seduction.

His response was fiery, his hand caressed mine as he leaned over the table.

“You are right, my little dragon,“ his tone carried a similar amount of allure.

“We need more information about the upper echelon, if we proceed.“ I tilted my head, a plan already brewing.

“I love seeing you scheme. The wickedest ideas rise from the depths of that deviant little mind of yours, especially when you look at me like that.“

“Call my mind little one more time and i'll fuck you right on the spot.“ There was a threat hidden in my lustful whisper. My tease carried the intensity of the sun.

“You're making it very hard to stop, my little love.“

His eyes burned me and i felt an urge to make him scream. It sent shivers down my spine. I would never say that to him – it would be simply too cruel - but Cazasor was right when he said his screams sounded sweet. Besides, i didn't want to give him the wrong impression. His suffering did bring me pleasure, but only if it led to delight. And bringing him delight was equally arousing to me. I adored messing with his head. My love has always been toothy and bloodstained. It was understandably too much for the majority, that's why my list of lovers was so short. I think he was attracted to my duality.

“Go on, try me.“ My voice challenged him.

Astarion snatched my jaw and pulled me closer. Our eyes met, holding a staring contest. A tingle danced between my legs. His thumb brushed over my lips, repeating the motion after reaching the corner of my mouth. I parted my lips and bit his thumb. His eyebrows furrowed as he gasped from pain.

“You're fucking feral…mmm, i'm glad i made you mine.“ He leaned to kiss me and the crowded room melted away, there was nobody else but us. The spot between my legs moistened and throbbed in yearning. I grabbed the back of his head and sat up in my seat. Astarion broke our kiss.

“We should find a more private place,“ he said.

I took his hand and pulled him up, we swivelled the tables and escaped into the snowy streets. He led me down a narrow street, snow crunching under out boots, and we stopped in a passage between two buildings. Conveniently, there were no windows. Astarion pushed me against the worn stone wall and unbuttoned my coat. I lifted my leg and he pressed it to his waist. Our kiss was raw. His hand made its way down my pants, i throbbed and let him play with myself. His hand was stroking my folds, drawing circles around my bud. It was wonderful, i could do anything when i felt like this.

I began opening his coat, then his pants. My hand clenched his member, toying with it like it was my treat. His breath quickened as his hips thrust into my hand. I started kneading his length, finishing each motion with a tight squeeze at the base of his shaft. He was my plaything and couldn't keep my hands off him. It was driving him crazy and he repaid me by pushing his fingers inside me. My silky walls clenched around him and he thrust his fingers into me. It was blissful!

My hand clamped around my lover's member, kneading it upwards. Once i reached the tip i pulled aside his skin and circled the head. Astarion shuddered and dug into the crook of my neck, his fangs meeting my skin. I arched my back, welcoming the bite. It turned me on like nothing else, electrified the tips of my nerves. Asatrion knew it well. He released my neck and dragged his tongue down my skin, only to suddenly bite me again. I undulated against him, moaning from delight. My fingers were swirling delicate patterns into the tender head of his member. He thrust his hips, looking for some kind of friction to end my tease.

I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. I removed my hand from his length and slipped it under, caressing his balls, then moved deeper down to stroke the tender skin around his rear entrance. Astarion exhaled with pleasure, his hot breath wafting over my neck. His fingers were moving at a steady pace inside me, my wetness dripping down my thigh. It was wonderful and i didn't want it to end, not yet.

My fingers stroked him, giving him a delicate rim job. I could feel him clenching under my touch, his breath quickened and his teeth sunk into my shoulder. The pleasure was building inside me, i would finish soon if he let me.

„Slow down your fingers, just a little,“ i mumbled in his ear.

Astarion was kissing and nipping my neck, his hand complied with my request. Meantime, i was caressing his back entrance, pushing a finger into his tight bundle of muscle, then easing down. He was heaving his hips in unison with my fingers, his fully hard member brushing against my arm, smearing precum on my skin.

We spent a while like rutting animals, grunting against the cold wall. Then i removed my hand and he pulled down my pants. It didn't take any effort to slide inside me. I exhaled in ecstasy, grasping at his clothing, awaiting him to speed up his hips. He did exactly that, unwilling to wait any longer. He fucked me right there, in the snow, my hands clenching is ass. The orgasm was delicious and my vampire lord finished soon after, my clenching silkiness driving him over the edge.

Next day we had to go out during the working hours. The sky was heavily clouded by gray, wide snowflakes were falling from the sky. I took us to a bookshop, it was a beautiful room filled with dark wood. I introduced us as traveling merchants who are looking into expanding our business. The shopkeeper was a sweet woman, who took kindly to my conversation. Of course, our fancy clothing and furs helped to sell the illusion. I bought a book about local poetry and asked about the city. The woman told us everything we wanted to know. It appears there were three major houses who ruled the city. Three big elven families who had formed a council.

I also asked about the celebrations. She told me about the winter solstice and the goddess of death and cold. They held huge celebrations each winter, when the night was the longest. It was a local deity, whose familiars haunted the barren winter lands. We were lucky, the solstice was happening very soon.

We enjoyed the town until that day. Explored streets, buildings. I rented a sleigh and we drove around like royalty. Locals were skiing in the hills and ice skating on frozen lakes. I bought some skates and tried it out. It was a lot harder than it looked, but my vampiric reflexes helped. I wanted to experience as much as i could. Surprisingly, i managed to get Astarion to try out ice skating too. It was amusing to no end seeing a vampire lord on ice. I was so proud of him, although it took some convincing. In the end we managed to explore the frozen lake together, holding hands like the cheesiest old couple.

Two young girls passed us. I heard one say that were were adorable and she hopes to be just like us when she grows old. I almost turned around and ripped their heads off but Astarion stopped me.

The day of the solstice citizens lit candles on their windows. The day itself was incredibly short, the night, however, lit by golden lights. We heard the commotion from our house. People were wearing masks and clothing in bright colors, chanting and singing. Many masks depicted skulls, decorated with ribbons and runes. It was the night to execute our plan. I wore a dress with a tight bodice – that gave be excellent cleavage – and a huge skirt. Astarion dressed in an elaborately decorated suit. We had no chance entering through the main doors without unwanted attention, so we had to sneak in. While inside we had to look the part, so we fluffed our feathers like a pair of peacocks.

We put on our fur coats and hired a sleigh to take us to the upper city. My jewelry felt cold and heavy against my chest and neck. It was a freezing cold. We sneaked as close to the Anvegg palace as we could, but the streets were crowded by sleighs. People were waiting in a queue to pass through huge metal gates. The palace itself was magnificent, resembling a castle. Its architecture was elegant and detailed. We spotted guards everywhere and had to sneak along the palace wall. After careful inspection we decided to climb over the wall behind the palace gardens. The guards were pacing along the wall, but since it was so long they were fairly spaced out.

Astarion shapeshifted into mist and flew up the wall, there he snapped the neck of the nearest guard and threw him into the garden's evergreen bushes. I – being a sorcerer after all – conjured a spell that allowed me to fly. From there we jumped down and hid behind the bushes. Astarion called forth a fog and it blanketed the palace like a tender curtain. We snuck in through the palace backdoor, but not before casting a spell of invisibility upon us both.

We made our way to the ballroom and stood at the back. The scene was a sight to behold. Elves and races of different kind were dressed to impress. The room was adorned by evergreen branches, lanterns, candles and decorations made of crystal. The latter reflected light in different colors, creating prismatic speckles on the walls. Drinks flowed freely, a table with light foods and desserts was under arched columns. Musicians were playing a fast-paced, but oddly melancholic, tune. Nobody was dancing yet, people were exchanging pleasantries, still entering.

“Looks like we got here too early,“ Astarion noted.

“Bollocks, i'll fetch us some drinks.“ I dodged people masterfully to get us two glasses. The drinks were spicy, but very good.

“So, this is how the upper crust parties in this piece of the world? Is this what you expected?“

I glanced around and sipped from my glass. „Yes and no. With the masks and sad music there better be a sacrifice coming.“

I found it odd that although all the townsfolk was masked, no one in the ballroom was wearing one.

“The nobles have too much money and status to hide their face. Just showing up here is a sign of success. Why hide that?“ Astarion spoke, tasting his drink. I think he noticed me glaring at people.

The ballroom was filling up and the song changed, still melancholic. Soon a chime of bells echoed in the hall. People's murmur quieted down and a figure appeared on a balcony above the crowd. It was a handsome finely-dressed elf.

“Dear guests, beloved neighbors, and those who had to make a long journey to get here, i welcome you in the house of Anvegg. I'm lord Ronegard Anvegg and this palace has been the heart of our family for more than 500 years. Ever since it was built, it has been welcoming to guests and hosting a winter solstice ceremony to ward off dark spirits of the cold and thank the winter goddess Lendera. This year we have something special prepared. But, until then, let us dance and drink like the sun will never rise! We shall honor the eternal night!“

The crowd cheered. Lord Ronegard smiled and raised his glass, then continued.

“To those who are new, i'd like to present my family. My beautiful wife Ereida. „

A stunning woman walked forth, taking her husband's hand. She wore a gown with a long train, jewelry and a headdress. The crowd sheered again.

“Be warmed by the light of Anvegg's palace. Friends will always find a refuge here,“ she said, her voice like a song. By the whispers it became clear she was greatly loved and admired.

Lord Ronegard spoke again, holding his wife's gentle hand, “this is my oldest son, Obreon!“

An elf nodded at the back of the balcony, while making a step forward, surrounded by his siblings who were waiting to be presented. My eyes snapped onto him and never left. I don't think i have seen such a face in a long time, the noble modesty and elegant movements crowned him in excellence. He was stunning, long white hair that glimmered in light blue, dark gray eyes, sensual lips. The handsome elf was wearing a suit in gray and blue colors, silver rings and an elegant silver headdress.

“….Obreon is a skilled dancer, sorcerer and talented musician.“

The named son kept an impassive face, but his mask cracked as a glimmer of annoyance sparked in his eyes. He stepped back into the row and his father proceeded to present his other children, two sons and three daughters – all equally gorgeous. My eyes were glued to Obreon. I recalled what the bookshop keeper told me. Anvegg family were powerful sorcerers, who wielded old magic, kept magical artifacts and had fought battles for this city.

There was something about him that i couldn't comprehend, something magnetic, something familiar. I wanted to possess him. Add him to my collection. Break him, make him kneel. Desire and violence mixed in my twisted head.

I turned to Astarion and whispered in his ear, “you wanted an army of spawn. Have you though about turning somebody?“

“Who do you have in mind?“ He lowered his head curiously.

“How about the oldest son of the Anvegg family?“

Astarion looked up at the balcony, eyes narrowing. He noted the white hair, his overall visage and raised an eyebrow, snickering loudly. „You clearly have a type. Taking the son of a powerful family will blow our cover, not to mention put a target on our backs, my treasure. Maybe you should make another choice?“

My tongue thrashed, rubbing against the back of my teeth, an animal trying desperately to escape its cage. Astarion was right, it was a huge risk, but i couldn't stop thinking about it. The more i entertained the idea, the more i liked it. My hand slid up his chest, stopping on his shoulder.

“It will be dangerous, but if we play our cards right this might become our secret weapon,“ i whispered in his ear.

“You love this city, if we make ourselves the public enemy we'll have to leave.“

I glanced at the balcony, the noble family were slowly disappearing, probably going down the stairs to join the ballroom. I knew this, i didn't feel like leaving, not yet. The danger of this idea, however, had a hold on me, it made me tingle.

My lips were almost touching Astarion's ear as they formed a breathy purr, “imagine, the beloved son of this city as your spawn…listening for you, being your eyes…the most powerful house would stand at your feet. There won't be a better way to infiltrate.“ My siren song tickled his neck, wafted curls of hair across his skin.

“You'd have to use your master's restraint on him…maybe spice it with some spells. As long as he doesn't talk, who will rat us out? We're the heroes of Baldur's Gate, remember.“

He turned to look at me, our faces almost touching. “You know how to be convincing, but be honest with me, why did you pick him?“

“He would make a great plaything, in more ways than one. Can't give you a solid reason, my darkest desire. It's just instincts.“

Astarion chuckled victoriously, his voice sweet and sedative. „So that's how it is then? My treasure has finally started shopping for some bedroom furniture? You started quite late, i expected someone with your appetites to begin a lot sooner.“

“Maybe he won't be any good at all. For his own sake, he better be. Do you like him? If the sands of time ran backwards, and you were standing in a dark alleyway, would you have taken someone like him?“

He paused, looking out into the crowd. The noble family had entered the room, scattering to greet their guests, old and new.

“I had low standards in my former life. He's the sort you'd rarely find in one. Had i met him back then…well…“ he drawled, voice cracking, eyes locked to something in the distance, „he would have certainly caught my eye.“

I smiled, it was all i wanted to hear.

“He looks like he could be your son….or a long lost relative. Maybe fathered in the bushes of some lost elven kingdom,“ i teased.

Astarion snorted with amusement, „Not all elves look the same, you know. It's flattering, but don't ascribe me any children, i assure you, i have none. I'm one of a kind.“

“We'll have to wait until he's alone. This greeting ceremony will go on for a long time.“

So we waited, crawling around the ballroom like shadows, waiting and watching. Guests started making merry, cups were filled and couples danced. I pulled Astarion to an empty hallway and took his waist.

“Excuse me, noble sir, will you spare me a dance?“ I was feeling playful and the night was simply too good waste. The fast-paced melancholic music echoed in the hallways, bouncing off high ceilings and candelabras. Astarion held my hand, whilst enchanting me with an elegant bow.

“It would be a pleasure, my lady.“ He placed a hand on my waist and i took the long train of my skirt into my hand, we started swirling around in a light-footed dance. We were ghosts haunting this castle, invisible yet present.

The night went on and soon another chime of bells wafted through air. It was Ronegard Anvegg standing on the steps of an elaborate staircase.

“Dear guests, it's time to witness the ritual and fulfil the hunger of winter's ghosts. Please, proceed to the inner garden, our servants will lead your way.“

Servants in fancy clothing and holding lanterns stood near the main doors. A flow of guests began moving outside, where more servants lit their way. The night was cold, a light sprinkling of snow descending from the sky. The winter moon hung low, enormous like a bulging eye. The passage of guests, who had put on their coats and gloves, was travelling to the garden located in the inner circle of the castle. We followed, still cloaked by the invisibility spell. It was a joyful trip, full of murmur and excited conversation. I had a strange anticipation in my chest, the thrill of something great and menacing igniting my nerves.

The crowd gathered in an open area with a frozen fountain at the back and evergreen trees surrounding the space. There was a tall stack of dry wood and hay in the center of the arena, decorated with red ribbons. Two dead hares were placed on each side, adorned with fresh flowers. Lord Anvegg walked in front of it, his family kept to the side of the funeral pyre.

“Some of you know these lands well, while some have not yet had the time to become acquainted. These lands are bountiful in summer, yet deadly in winter. For centuries locals held rituals to make wintertide a safer time. Before, the hungry ghosts of Lendera's familiars roamed the lands, hunting people down, spilling blood. Venturing outside was not safe, going into the woods was deadly. Only by appeasing the winter soul have we gained safety and freedom.“

Ronegard gestured to his servants and they carried something to the arena. It was a tall bundle, tightly bound by colorful ribbons. The servants carried it to the stack of kindling and rested it against the wood. It stood up, now vaguely human shaped.

“Each winter solstice we give the winter's kiss a sacrifice, usually we choose someone from the town's prison. Someone worthy of death. This year, however…“ He raised his hand elegantly and a servant lifted a flap of fabric from the top of the bundle. A pale face emerged, eyes wide open, cheeks glistening with tears. A gasp travelled through the crowd, some were snickering.

“Tonight we are giving away one of our own. Some of you know him as Florian Denere, an elf who worked for the council. It was discovered he had been selling our information and filling his pockets with our gold. A betrayal is an act worthy of death in these parts, we keep close to survive and there simply isn't any room for those who put themselves above everyone else. Today, we shall give him to the winter hounds!“

His last words turned into an ecstatic yell, making the crowd cheer and clap. The sacrifice stared at the crowd, sweat running down his face, unable to speak as his lips were sewn shut. A servant brought Ronegard a torch and he placed in onto the kindling. The fire catched on and started to spread, a yellow glow reflecting in the terrified eyes of the sacrifice. He seemed paralysed by some potion, the only part animated being his eyes, those were nearly bulging out of his head, staring at the fire that was creeping closer to his feet.

Ronegard lifted a cup and yelled out into the night, „goddess of winter, ruler of death, take thy offering and stay benignant to our people. This soul is yours!“

The crowd screamed out in bloodlust, though some were averting their eyes in horror. I was spellbound by this sudden act of violence, my eyes taking in every movement, every scent and sound. The hair on my neck stood up, the energy of this ritual was unmatched. The sacrifice's eyes reflected a golden orange as the flames swept over him, he was engulfed in seconds, the fabric soaked in something flammable. My hand reached out for Astarion, grabbing his hand into mine. He squeezed me in return. Coming here was worth it after all.

“What an unexpected turn! The noble family is a lot more unhinged than i imagined! Bloody human sacrifices for old forgotten gods, how quaint! I have to admit, Ronegard knows how to throw an unforgettable party. I think some guests will be revisiting the highlight of this event in their nightmares,“ Astarion laughed, enjoying the performance as much as i did. The stench of burning human hair and flesh washed over the guests. It was so revolting that many covered their noses, some retched.

Ronegard was standing motionlessly and gazing into the flames, captivated by the sparks rising up into the night sky. Or maybe there was something else he saw in the fire? His eyes were oddly absent. He woke from his stupor and turned to guests with a wide smile.

“Dear guests, i'm asking you to go back inside. The ritual is over and it's getting rather unpleasant.“

He left the scene surrounded by servants who began guiding the crowd inside. The Anvegg family was last to move, they exchanged a few glances and haste words, then dispersed into the darkness. All but one – Obreon, he stared into the fire for a few more minutes, then began slowly sauntering to the castle. I nudged Astarion, it was our chance! I removed the invisibility spell. We had found a secluded spot away from the crowd, near the evergreen trees, where we could remain undisturbed.

“I want you to approach him first,“ i whispered. „Get a feeling for him, then introduce me.“ „Keen on watching, are you?“ He was joyous, eyes glinting from the anticipation of a challenge. „You always liked to see me at work. Don't forget to blink, darling.“

He was teasing me, but not too far from the truth. My eyes were fixated on our target, predatory, merciless.

Obreon didn't see him coming. Astarion just popped out from the dark void, that was this night, making the elf wince.

„What a powerful performance! It's going to be the talk for days to come. Not to mention a masterfully crafted exposition of a warning.“

The surprise on Obreon's face dissipated, replaced by formal coldness. „Excuse me, i don't think we've been introduced?“

„That is entirely our fault. We had to undertake a very long journey to get here and exprienced a few delays. We were late, but lucky enough to see the main event.“

„Oh, i'm sorry to hear that. It explains why i didn't see you at the dance.“ Obreon's demeanor seemed to soften up a little.

„You have an extraordinary memory, Lord Anvegg. How many people were there? A few hundred?“

„It's more of a curse, really,“ Obreon sighed. „I wanted to take a little walk, you may join me, if you don't mind the cold.“ The two began slowly encircling the gardens, snow crunching under their feet.

“I couldn't help but notice your disapproval during the ceremony. Were you close with the burning man?“ Astarion's question was blunt, yet not carrying any kind of accusations.

Obreon looked up in to the sky, the snowfall was becoming denser.

“I dearly hope it wasn't that obvious. Yes, i knew him. At one point i may have called him a friend, but it was a long time ago. In the council everybody knows each other. It was a shock to find out what he had been doing.“

Astarion sensed that the elf had nobody to talk to about the loss. It was an open door.

“It's always the ones who we least expect that tend to surprise us. My condolences for the loss of your friend.“

Obreon thanked him with a tired, yet grateful smile. “I will be fine. He knew what he was risking. The council has always been ruthless to traitors.“

“So you're telling me, private executions are widely practiced in these parts?“

“Private – only on special occasions. Public – not anymore. I'm guessing you outsiders think it's barbaric.“

“Not really, if the sacrifice is a criminal, then does it truly matter what kind of a punishment they receive? At least they're spending their last moments doing something useful. Or do you think otherwise?“

Obreon moistened his lips while admiring the castle. Snow was building on his head and coat.

“I would be a hypocrite to say that i care about the sacrificed. The dangers my father spoke about are very real. Townsfolk used go missing during wintertide, then be found ripped apart. The messengers of the goddess howled and scratched behind closed doors. People were scared to go into the forests, to go outside at night. Although, attacks happened during daytime, too. These are a necessary measure. A life has to be given, a thinking feeling being, such is the law.“

“Ah, gods love exercising their unyielding power, often as a detriment to their own worshippers. Are there any more human sacrifices planned in your yearly calendar? I can free up a spot in my schedule.“ Astarion's voice dropped flirtatiously. It worked as Obreon smiled.

“Not this kind. We celebrate summer solstice, but only sacrifice animals and wine during the ceremony. Some may sacrifice their virginity, but that's up to the gods of luck to decide.“ Obreon stopped and turned to look at Astarion. „You didn't say your name. It's not fair since you know mine.“

“I'm lord Astarion Ancunin and there's someone i'd like you to meet.“

“It's a pleasure, though, i haven't heard your name before.“ Obreon followed Astarion, who was leading them towards the row of evergreen trees.

“It's to be expected, i've led a rather secluded lifestyle and made my debut recently.“

I was watching from the bushes in silent awe, the plan had worked out perfectly. Astarion was enchanting to observe, his performance truly noteworthy. I could never get tired of this. He was good at what he did best – seducing. Cazador, you bastard, you made the perfect monster.

Astarion's hand reached out for me, parting the snow coated branches, and i gave him mine. He guided me out of the shadows, where i could see Obreon up close for the first time. He didn't disappoint, still as magnetic as when i first saw him, only now he wore a cautiously furrowed brow.

“This is my consort, my love and my partner in crime – Arsenia.“

I smiled, trying to not scare the elf with my intense staring. I stretched out my hand, as was customary. He took it gently and brought it to his lips. It was a gentle kiss, i barely felt any warmth. I caught his gaze and smiled. Obreon's eyes stayed on mine for longer than was decent.

“I apologize for stalking you in the bushes, but i was dying to meet you.“

Obreon was amused, „it seems i walked into an ambush. You must be freezing, you had to wait a long time for me.“

“I don't mind the cold, especially on a night like this. The gardens are beautiful, i went on a stroll.“

It was so difficult not to stare, i tried my best to soften my expression, but the hunter in me was enthralled by the chase. I was hyper-aware of myself, the air and the falling snow. I felt alive! There has always been a predatory aspect to my being, which was amplified by me becoming a vampire spawn. No, a vampire bride. I had tasted my lover in more ways than one. He had given me his blood. I was truly free to unleash my horrors into the world.

Obreon sensed the energy, there was no way for it to be unnoticed, it crackled through the air like distant lightening, filling the air with the scent of ozone. I doubt he understood what it meant, yet he was enticed. The elf's gray eyes darted from Astarion's smug smirk to my alluring little smile. My eyes were full of unspoken promises. Calling to him, inviting him to take part of unfathomable pleasures. Astarion's act was unmatched, he was spellbinding and gentlemanly.

“The gardens are one my favorite places, too. It's even more beautiful during the summer when everything is in bloom,“ Obreon said.

“It's also very private, i noticed. A lot of alcoves to hide in.“ My voice was silky smooth, brimming with temptation.

Obreon looked down shyly, a playful smile lingering on his lips. “It's by design. Many unions have been formed in this greenery.“

“I imagine many confessions of love, as well. This maze of green is built for the lecherous whispers of lovers and their hastened breaths,“ Astarion noted, his voice becoming deep and seductive.

We started moving, walking slowly between the snow-capped trees and bushes, many of which still held on to their berries. White pearlescent drops peeked out from the snow. As we were ambling the gardens Astarion drifted to Obreon's left side, while i kept to his right. He was cornered, the poor thing didn't even have a clue. Or did he? Perhaps he was waiting for a special kind of treat?

Obreon nodded with amusement. „If it was warmer these paths would be filled with guests. I'm ashamed to say that i have seen lifted skirts and bare thighs on more occasions than i dare to admit. My family turns a blind eye, as long as the guests are content.“

Astarion leaned closer. „Have you ever thought about joining one of them?“ His tone was controlled, yet flirtatious.

Obreon was impressed and entertained by his bluntness. “I have received a few invitations over the years, but none of them enticed me.“ The elf glanced at Astarion playfully.

I wrapped my arm around his bicep, caressing the silky fabric with my fingers. “It was brave to admit that, but it would be even braver to explain why.“

Obreon turned to look at me, our eyes met and his gaze travelled down to my lips, then to my cleavage, before bouncing back up. I let him know i caught him staring, he could look if he wanted to. I certainly didn't hide my wandering stare. My glowing tiefling eyes ran down his delicious frame, stopping briefly at his crotch.

Obreon gulped, „i'm very selective when it comes to that. There wasn't any chemistry between the us, or there wasn't enough of it.“

Astarion looked at him intensely. „Having high standards is paramount in these times, but especially to a person of your importance. Do entertain us, how do we measure up to your desires?“

Obreon's cheeks flushed, he gathered himself and looked in Astarion's eyes. „Are you going to make a proposal?“ The question was soft and quiet, more of a whisper.

“Would you like to get one?“ I squeezed his bicep, coming to a kissing distance of his lips.

Obreon smiled anxiously, his breath quickened. He stopped the walk. Large flakes of snow were gliding from the sky. It was so still and peaceful outside. The elf was firmly pressed between us, cornered like a deer by a pack of wolves. Yet, he didn't seem to want to run.

“Maybe,“ Obreon whispered lustfully.

I brushed his long hair out of the way and kissed his neck. Obreon closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, blissfully. Astarion touched Obreon's jaw to turn his face and kissed him on the lips. Obreon accepted the kiss eagerly, melting into position. He moved his hand to Astarion's neck, holding him gently.

I wrapped my arms around the elf, allowing them to wander shamelessly. My kisses on his neck were demanding, my tongue made an appearance and licked his soft skin. He tasted of nothing, maybe with a barely noticeable flavor of salt. His hair was silky soft, a lot of care went into it's upkeep for sure. I played with it, letting it slide between the tender flesh of my fingers.

Having him in our arms was victorious, the aloof prince at our mercy. The pretty man in a lion's den. I watched him kiss my beloved one, the scene made my heart beat faster. It was unusually satisfying to see my lover in action from a bystander's point of view. I could fully appreciate his beauty only when observing him from afar. Well, not afar in this case. I was still up close.

Astarion's lips moved in a hypnotizing way. They were soft, skilled and deadly. Those very lips that brought me pleasure were now making someone else sigh lustfully. I heard Obreon, i couldn't be fooled. I watched, tilting my head to catch every minute detail. The place between my legs tingled, becoming tender and responsive to every movement and friction. I needed to see Obreon flinching, his body was a plaything i wanted to engage.

I pressed my hand against Obreon's crotch and felt him through the fabric. He winced, gasping from the pleasant surprise. I rubbed him through the clothing and he thrust into my hand. This sent waves of pleasure up my body. I cupped his face and snatched him from Astarion, then kissed him passionately. Obreon let me inside his mouth, let me play with his tongue, while his hand touched my breasts that were mischievously bulging out from by bodice.

Suddenly, i felt a brush of wind on my neck. It was Astarion, he stood behind me, kissing my neck and nipping my skin. My pussy throbbed, eager to be touched. He caressed my shoulders, his fingers were running down my back, squeezing my waist. It was fantastic and i channeled that into the body in front of me – Obreon.

My hand was stroking him harder and faster, making the elf squirm underneath me, his kisses became more savage. I unbuttoned Obreon's trousers and slipped my hand into his undergarments, his erect cock fitting perfectlty into my fist, burning it with heat. Obreon moaned out loud, his hips bucking into my hand, begging to get off. I began stroking him, pausing to play with him like i saw fit, teasing him, edging him.

Meantime, Astarion was decorating my shoulder blades with toothy kisses, finally lifting up my skirts to touch me. His hand fluttered to my crotch and slipped a finger into my wetness, gently rubbing my swollen bud. I never wanted him to stop. His finger glided over my bud so delightfully, every stroke sending flickers of pleasure up my nerves. I uttered a blissful growl, the wetness dripping down my thigh. Then his hand started rubbing me in circles and i felt ecstatic! My hips started moving on their own, helping the orgasm build. My swollen bud was overly sensitive and the epicentre of my current state. I broke Obreon's kiss, my head tilted back in ecstasy.

All this time i made sure my hand in Obreon's pants never stopped for a second. The noble elf was watching us now, eyes darkened by deviant, perverted lust. He was breathing heavily, lips parted, tongue slithering behind the white cages of his teeth. He lunged forward and kissed Astarion over my shoulder. There i was, squeezed between two warm bodies, flushed and dripping wet.

Obreon took my leg and pulled it up to his waist, holding me, clinging to me like i was a wuthering wave and he a drowning sailor. The tingling delightfulness in my groin started to expand and my walls flexed, welcoming an intense orgasm. My eyebrows furrowed and mouth gaped as it shot up inside me, the wonderful spark-filled sensation. My eyes drifted out of focus, my head falling back, i was enjoying the aftertaste. My hand was still working on Obreon, now speeding up with the intent to make him groan.

Obreon tightened his hold on my thigh, his hips moving along with my hand. The cheeky bastard was basically jerking off into my hand. There was a viciousness to his movements, a desperate kind of lust.

Astarion parted their kiss and grazed his lips down the nobleman's neck, sucking on him, teasing his flesh. Obreon whimpered in bliss, allowing himself to be devoured. He was in a state, cheeks adorned with a heavy blush, clothes and hair disheveled. His voice formed a hoarse moan, whilst his hips continued to hump my hand. I was holding him firmly, moving quickly along his shaft. My thumb made sure to brush the tip of his member as it pulled out.

Obreon's voice cracked in the middle of a moan, his body shuddered and slowed down. I felt his seed in my fist, but i kept on stroking him. Obreon embraced me tightly, his thumb caressing my thigh. He was breathless as he humped me jerkingly throughout his orgasm. I pulled out my sticky, semen coated hand and shoved it into Obreon's mouth. He sucked on it obediently, cleaning my fingers with his tongue.

„Mm, what a good boy,“ i exhaled sweetly. Astarion glanced at me, he was still toying with the nobleman's neck. We understood each other well. His jaw flung open, sharp fangs glistening with saliva, and latched onto Obreon's flesh. Obreon gasped, but was still licking my fingers in his mouth. I smiled watching my lover drain him. My fingers dug deeper into Obreon's mouth, caressing his tongue possessively. His eyes drifted shut, long eyelashes fluttering as if he was dreaming. I could feel him sucking my finger, a heavy lustful gasp flowing from his lips.

„You were such a delight, my lovely elf,“ i whispered in his ear.

Obreon's body began to weaken, his hand released my leg and it dropped to the ground. Astarion embraced him and held him up, while the nobleman drifted silently into a dreamless sleep. Obreon's body fell limp, his beautiful face peaceful and dignified. Astarion placed his body into the snow. He stood back up and stared at the lifeless shape.

„It was beautiful, my love,“ i said serenely and reached out to wipe away the blood on Astarion's chin.

He turned to look at me, smug and pleased with himself. A hint of dark passion glinted in his red eyes.

„It's been a long time since i've seen someone welcome death so willingly. I expected him to put up a fight. Well, i guess this is what happens if you let yourself starve.“ „Or his parents never taught him to be wary of strangers.“

Astarion touched my cheek lovingly. „We must bury him, my darling. We have to find a place where we can meet him tomorrow, without prying eyes. He will be confused and in need of soothing words. Potentially dangerous.“

„We'll bury him in the forest. The ground is frozen, but i will melt it with fire. And i'll need you to call upon a mist even bigger than envelops this castle.“

„Aren't i lucky to snag a sorcerer. Consider it done, my dear,“ he smiled.

I kissed him and it tasted of dark lust. I couldn't stop, my hand drifted to his loins and squeezed his cock. It was hard and begging to be played with.

Astarion groaned into our kiss and mumbled, „behave now, my insatiable lover, there's a dead body that's in need of a burial. After it's taken care of i'm all yours.“ I gave his member a possessive squeeze before letting it go.

„As you want, my desire,“ i growled.

The fog that came over the town was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. I heaved Obreon's body over my shoulder and cast a flying spell. Astarion turned into a swarm of bats and we departed our hunting grounds. Roof tiles clanked under my heels as i soared from building to building. The swarm of bats was faithfully by my side, sometimes surrounding me like a halo. Below us echoed the cheers and chanting of the partygoers, some exclamations of surprise, some curses at the mist. Street lanterns gave the mist a golden glow, so defused and distant that it seemed unreal. Like the light that's seeping between the eyelids when they're barely open.

We jumped off the town wall and wandered into the dark forest. It was pitch-black but the snow made it seem lighter. It was still snowing, the moon was our only witness. We travelled deep into the woods, so deep that nobody should wander there by accident. I placed Obreon's body into the snow and looked around. The trees here were ancient and contorted, branches and nubs covered in fluffy snowcaps. Near me the flock of bats undulated between trunks, descended and took the shape of a man.

„There's a clearing worthy of a grave,“ Astarion said and trekked through deep snow to a place below a rocky hill.

The ground there was flat, no big trees around. The hill with boulders provided cover.

„Мove aside, dear,“ i said as i started moving my hands in circular patterns, channeling my fire.

A huge blazing sphere materialized above the clearing. I danced my fingers in the air and it lowered closer to the ground, melting the snow. When green grasses appeared i pushed the sphere even lower and it touched the ground. The smell of burning wafted up and i clenched my fists. The fire snuffed out. This wasn't enough, still. I cast a spell that allowed me to move objects around, then focused on the dirt and scooped a human-sized hole into the earth. Astarion carried Obreon to his grave and laid him to rest. I commanded the giant clump of soil to move back into its place and the body was finally covered.

I stared at the fresh grave. The deed was done, there was no way back. Tomorrow we will have to welcome whatever crawls out of that grave, be it doom or blessing. I could have summoned a snowstorm to cover the naked dirt, but we were too far into the woods to have a need for it.

„I hope it's not doubt in your eyes that i'm seeing,“ Astarion whispered with amusement, while embracing me from behind. „It was your idea, after all. His family will slaughter us with a concerto, if they find out what we did.“ His voice lowered in tone, becoming a breathy, sultry whisper.

He was pent-up ever since our debauchery in the gardens. His hands encircled my waist.

„I'm deeply impressed by your sixth sense for masochists. Perhaps i should leave finding all future spawn to you…that, and i love indulging your whims, my darkest dream.“ As he was talking his lips were leaving a trail of kisses down my neck. I sighed with delight, letting him seduce me.

„Кeep talking….and kissing me, my love. I was hoping you would want to fuck on his grave.“

Astarion laughed alluringly and spun me around as if we were on a dance floor. My hands landed on his shoulders and snapped to his neck.

„We were in the middle of something. Well, you were, at least.“

„Want me to continue?“ I laughed smugly.

„Mmm,“ he drawled lustfully, „a certain part of me has been waiting very eagerly to meet you again.“ Astarion pulled my hand from his neck, pressed it against his face and traced his lips with my fingers.

My eyes were burning holes into him. Astarion opened his soft mouth and stuck his tongue out, running my manicured fingers across its moist surface. A sting of pleasure shot up my loins and i snapped my other hand from his neck and cupped his crotch. Astarion's heavily-lidded eyes were glued to mine, desire written on his parted lips.

My walls throbbed, i simply could not resist him. My hand clenched his member through his pants, traced its prominent outline, then kneaded it possessively. Astarion's mouth gaped further open, it was inviting me to do horrible things. I pushed my lips against his, but didn't kiss him just yet. My lips rubbed against his, teasing, soothing. My hand on his crotch began rubbing him off. Astarion shivered from delight, his hands grabbing my waist and starting to lift my skirts.

I smiled and took his lower lip between my teeth, sucking it, then clamping down at full force. Astarion moaned from the sudden pain, his brow frowning, but he didn't stop me. I sucked on his lip while my hand was hard at work on his cock. The opposing sensations were driving him mad, conflicting in his brain, enhancing one another. I released his lip and grasped the front of his jacket, beginning to lead him backwards towards the fresh grave. He complied, staring at me with vengeful lust. I shoved him onto the ground. It turned me on that our 'third wheel' was underneath us, even in death. You shall serve, Obreon, serve in every possible way.

Once my lord was down i crawled on top of him, my hands reaching for the clasps of his pants. I opened them and set his hard, aching member free. Just looking at it made me wet, it was mine, only mine, i will do whatever i damn please. I stooped and stuck my tongue out, licking up his shaft. I made a dramatic pause at the tip and began teasing it with my tongue. A pair of shaky moans from below let me know just how appreciative my lover was. His moans echoed with tingles in my crotch. I reached down and stroked my bud, making sure that Astarion sees it. He stared, moistening his lips with his tongue. I lowered myself to suck his tip again, prodding it with my tongue, all this time rubbing myself. It was heavenly.

Astarion closed his eyes in delight, his hips thrusting upwards, asking for more. I gave his shaft a few strokes, while my mouth was working on him with wicked devotion.

„Just fuck me already, my love,“ he groaned out grimly, while in desperate need of release.

I gazed up at him with evil self-satisfaction, as my tongue was swirling around his tip. I was pleasuring myself shamelessly, putting on a performance.

„Is this begging worthy of a vampire lord? Don't think so,“ i teased him cruelly, returning back to slurping his length. I sucked his tip like a lollipop.

Astarion shuddered and moaned out loud. „Damn you, do you want me to beg?! You evil, wicked, wretched little…“ His cursing got cut off by a needy groan, since i sucked him in and gave his member a few rough, fast-paced bounces. I spat him out shortly and began kneading him.

„Shit,“ he swore crudely.

I chuckled and heaved my hips, my hand still between my legs.

Astarion gulped and gathered himself, it wasn't easy since his mind was foggy. „Alright…“ he panted. His voice became low and seductive, the kind that drove me feral. „I need you to fuck me…i beg of you, my darkest desire.“

I listened intently, of course that voice got to me. I took great pleasure in stroking myself faster as he spoke. I nearly gave in, but decided to torture him further.

I smiled looking at him, then shook my head cruelly.

Astarion huffed annoyingly and frowned at me. His mask was quickly broken.

„Fuck, what do you want now? A poem of 50 paragraphs?!“

His frustration was deeply amusing to me. Watching him squirm made my bud grow bigger and more sensitive.

„You wouldn't be able to make one, you're a shitty poet,“ i said with a hoarse chuckle.

Astarion glared at me without blinking, eyes narrow. My evil foreplay was starting to dawn on him.

„I could command you…“ He started, but i cut him off.

„Command me to what? Sit on your cock? No you fucking can't….“ I laughed loudly, getting a deep satisfaction from his blight. I moved down and ran my tongue across his length, leaving a kiss on the tip. Then sat up and added, „or you would have already done so. You're powerless, vampire ascendant.“

Astarion trembled as i teased his member, something in his presence shifting. His face turned emotionless while his upper lip curled, exposing his fangs. He lunged forward and grabbed my neck. He pulled me close until our faces almost touched.

„I'm powerless…and yet here you are grinding yourself against me. Look at yourself, you're absolutely dripping feral, you'd do anything for me. What is this if not power?“

I looked at him silently. This was a fun turn of events, i loved it when he grabbed me like that. I grasped his member and smirked widely.

„Not bad, but i'm not afraid of you,“ i said and shoved him back onto the ground.

He wasn't expecting that and growled at me.

„You witch!“

I waved my finger, scolding him alluringly. „No, no, be nice now, my beloved.“

Astarion stared at me with a deep frown. „You're enjoying this, aren't you? Does my suffering satiate your sadistic little heart?“

I licked my lips, my hands moving to undo the lacing of my bodice. I moved up on his body so that my hips were right above his. I sat down, my wet folds pressing onto his length. As i was untying my bodice i rotated my hips, grinding myself against his hardness. Astarion inhaled sharply and arched his back, enjoying the delightful friction. I opened my bodice and freed my breasts, my hips now grinding more intentionally. A groan escaped him and his hands snapped onto my hips, making sure i never stop.

„You have no idea, my beloved,“ i purred, carried away by the sweet sensation between my legs.

I humped him further, my movements becoming more rough and desperate. My vampire was grunting underneath me, jerking my hips faster and faster. I needed him inside me. I reached down, grabbed his cock and guided it inside me. It slid in effortlessly for my wetness had stained even the front of his pants. Entering me made Astarion gasp out in ecstasy, his chest heaving with each heavy breath. I started riding him, angling myself in a way that i could grind my bud against his stomach. Astarion's hands dug deeper into my hips, pushing me down harder. I was panting, moans of pleasure flying from my lips each time his cock brushed against my walls. We spent a while like this. Astarion's frown softened, his visage revealing a desperation for pleasure.

Suddenly he sat up and pushed me to the ground, nudging my thighs up and entered me again. It was fantastic! He held my legs and thrust into me with speed and vigour. Each friction of his delicious cock against my throbbing walls sending waves of bliss up my body. I sunk my claws into his shoulders and let him have me however he wanted. The ecstasy in his eyes was unlike anything i've seen so far – bliss, impatience, adoration. I felt the orgasm build and screamed as it expanded, my head flying back, eyes fluttering shut.

Astarion fucked me through my contractions, groaning from the intensity of the sensation. There was an absence in his eyes that told me, he was coming soon. His hips kept moving, unable to stop even if he tried, aching for the sweet kiss of release. Finally, he moaned loudly and grabbed me into a tight embrace. His hips were still moving, riding out his prolonged frustration. I stroked his hair and held him lovingly. Once he stopped we just lay there in each other's arms. Gasping and covered in dirt.

We returned to the city and enjoyed the luxuries of our rented cottage. We filled the wooden tub and had a bath, drank wine, rested on soft fresh sheets. I asked Astarion to wash my hair and he fulfilled my request. Then i washed his. I have become used to his presence, even during the most intimate moments, and i demanded the same from him. He didn't seem to mind it either. Astarion said he was always watching, but so was i. I watched him unbashfully as he bathed, changed or slept. He was a feast for my eyes, something worthy of admiration.

„You always stare so eagerly,“ he noted.

„You can return the favor, i don't mind feeling your eyes on me,“ i smirked alluringly, or…have you become bored of this?“ I ran my hand down my leg to make a point.

„How could i possibly get bored of you, darling? I chose you as my consort for a reason,“ he flirted back.

„I hope you chose me for my personality, because you'll never get rid of me.“ My flirtation had a dark aftertaste, a playful warning just under top layers. „The only acceptable divorce i'll take is decapitation.“

„Are you threatening me or flirting? It sounds the same coming from your lips, my love.“ Astarion leaned closer to brush my neck, whispering, „Do not fear, my love, i know about the hidden recesses of your mind, ah, the horrors that lurk in that darkness are abundant. I met you when you were a merciless assassin and was captivated by your steady hand, by your stoic character. Though, i know now that your stoicism was simply a facade, there's hardly anyone in Faerun more passionate in nature than you. We're a good match, don't you think ?“

His seduction worked well on me. I put my hand on his chest, my claws dragging on his skin.

„Say it!“ i hissed, my eyes burning with fire.

His lips formed a devious smirk, but his eyes were clouded by lust.

„I love you and i will burn the world down for you.“

I laughed victoriously, drunk on desire.

„I will slaughter anyone who dares to lay a finger on you.“

Astarion lowered himself slowly onto my lips, his voice a hoarse whisper.

„It's a promise.“

Next night we made our leave, i used a flight spell again. It was still snowing and the forest was even more difficult to travel. Large snowdrifts were leaning against trees, the wind was knocking the buildup of snow from tree crowns. The grave site was coated in a blanket of snow, but still lightly dented. The hill made finding the spot a lot easier. We stood at the foot of the grave, dressed in our furs and waiting.

„It's quite romantic,“ i said playfully. „Еven while waiting something to chew its way out of the dirt.“

„The noble family has probably noticed the absence of their oldest son by now, but there's no commotion, no search patrols on the streets.“

„You think they're keeping it quiet on purpose? The palace is being searched, i'm sure of it.“

„The Anvegg family wants to save face, we must use it against them.“

An eerie scream echoed in the distance, bouncing off trees and stone. I grabbed Astarion's hand out of instinct. He comforted me.

„It must be one of those hungry winter ghosts Ronegard was speaking about. It's a good thing they have been appeased.“

I looked into the darkness of the forest, something was watching us, something ancient and incorporeal. This land was truly haunted, haunted by monsters scarier than us. Suddenly the snow on the grave started moving, a hollow formed on its surface, and a pale hand reached out into the sky.

„He is coming,“ i noted calmly. We watched as the snow got shovelled aside, mixed with the darkness of dirt, and a figure crawled out. Obreon was hard to recognize, his clothes were filthy, hair tangled and stained by soil. His gorgeous eyes we now red, wide from fear and confusion. Obreon clawed at the snow, pulling himself further into the moonlight. His head was whipping around, looking for something in the trees. Then he finally noticed us and froze.

„Where am i? W-what have you done to me?“ The nobleman growled.

„You have been reborn, sweet prince,“ Astarion spoke to him smugly.

„With term and conditions, dear. Now you belong to us.“ I stepped closer and squatted down in front of him, gently touching his hair.

„What are you saying? What did you do? Did you curse me?“ Obreon stared into my soul. He was so confused, so dazed.

„You're a vampire spawn now. He is your master.“ I stroked his hair, cleaning it from dirt, nodding towards Astarion.

Obreon frowned and shook his head in disbelief.

„No, no….no! This can't be true!“

I took a small mirror from the pocket of my trousers and held it up in front of Obreon's face. His eyes locked on it, widening with horror. He crawled closer, staring into the glossy surface that showed no reflection. Something inside him broke, his head dropped, long hair dragging on the snow.

„Мy family will kill you for this,“ he mumbled.

„I'm afraid you won't be able to tell them. I don't want to exert total control over you, so i need you to behave. Being a spawn doesn't have to mean endless suffering, however, if you to put us in any danger…“ Astarion was menacing, confident and powerful.

He was going to be an excellent master and i was so proud of him. He was all mine.

„..Astarion will command you to walk into the sun,“ i finished the sentence for him.

Obreon clenched his teeth and made a loud whimper - as if about to cry or burst out laughing, a grotesque gag of a sound. He raised his head, eyes glistening with tears, mouth contorted.

„Whatever you planned is destined to fail. My family….the council… will never let themselves to be influenced and if they find out that i'm a…“ he struggled to utter the word, „they will burn me as a traitor.“

„Вurn their own son?“ i chuckled, my hand caressing his head. „That's too heartless for a man who introduced his family so lovingly. Come on now, it's not all doom and gloom. We will take care of you, i promise.“

I knelt and pulled the elf into my lap. Obreon didn't resist and laid his head on my thigh, i started gently stroking his head. It was an odd scene, but he seemed to calm down.

Astarion was satisfied with the outcome, he stood and watched us quietly.

„What happens next?“ Obreon asked.

„We will take you home, but first, you have to make yourself presentable,“ Astarion replied. „Your family should remain blissfully unaware of your nightly escapades.“

„You can take a bath at our place and we will clean up your clothes,“ i chimed in, brushing dirty hair off his cheekbone.

„And you will tell your family a story with a very happy ending: you succumbed to a night of wild debauchery with two of your guests, who lured you out of the castle. You got drunk and passed out somewhere, only to stagger back home the next day. You can add whatever details you desire to make it more convincing. Lying shouldn't be too difficult, since it's basically the truth.“

Obreon listened quietly, eyes distant. Confusion and shock was written all over his face. He was scared, too. I tried my best to calm him, we didn't need him to panic.

„And…what do you want to be called? Should i call you master now?“ The nobleman barked bitterly.

Astarion rolled his eyes. „Мaster is such an old-fashioned, formal title, i prefer something more…casual. You may call me by my name.“

„You must stay out of the sun and be ready for the hunger, sweetheart. Astarion, will you read him the rules?“ I averted my eyes to my beloved.

The vampire hummed and replied with a delay, „Things will be different from when i was a spawn and it's no secret i feel aversion towards my former master's rules. Mine will be a lot easier to follow. Keep your nature a secret, i recommend drinking from criminals, it's about time they'd be useful for something. Animals are another good source to keep in mind. Secondly, obey my every command. You won't mention us to anyone. And you will come when called.“

„Think of us as your extended family,“ i added tenderly.

„It's time, my love,“ Astarion gestured.

I cast the flight spell on myself and Obreon, whilst Astarion shapeshifted into a swarm of bats. The mist was still veiling the town, so there was no chance of being seen. I held Obreon's hand as we jumped from rooftop to rooftop.

„So, you're a sorcerer,“ he mentioned midair. „He isn't building an army of sorcerers and wizards, is he?

That made me laugh. „Оf course not, it was i who chose you.“

Obreon stared at me with a frown, worry and confusion plastered all over his face.

We landed on the balcony and entered our humble abode. I filled him a lovely hot bath. The noble elf seemed to enter another stage of apathy, he just stood in the middle of the room stolidly, eyes vacant. I had to undress him and he behaved like a doll, allowing to be manipulated without any resistance. I guided him into the bath, where he sat in silence. I washed his body, then his hair, led him out of the bathtub and wrapped him in a blanket. Astarion stood next to a wall, sipping a glass of wine. He offered it to me, as i passed by, and i took it gladly. I downed the whole thing and pressed the empty glass back into his hand.

The next thing that needed to be done were Obreon's clothes. I washed them, then used a fireball to heat up the room and speed dry the garments. When i entered the room with fresh laundry in my hands, i stumbled upon a charming scene. Astarion was drying Obreon's hair with a towel. He did it so gently, so methodically. Then he picked something from the table and proceeded to comb his hair.

I placed the folded clothes on the table and sat down, enjoying the view.

„Has he said anything?“

„No, he's been ruminating.“

„Can we really send him back in such a state?“

„He will be fine in a minute. I was in a similar state myself. Though, a lot more self-aware,“ Astarion snickered.

„Poor thing, he must be blaming himself,“ i said mockingly, tilting my head.

„This is just the first stage, rage will come next.“ Astarion knew what he was talking about.

In a way, Obreon was at fault. He did follow two strangers into the night and succumbed to their seduction. At the same time, his decisions didn't have much gravity in the outcome. We would have turned him even if he resisted. In that case, he would have been at a greater risk of death. I wasn't sure i wanted a spawn that fought against us. There was no use for a biting dog. Astarion would trust my opinion, i'm sure, he knew i was good at picking people apart.

I walked up to Obreon and cupped his face with both hands. „Don't blame yourself. If you want to hate someone, hate me. Your hate shall be the wind under my wings. I can promise you one thing, if you accept us, we will keep you out of harm's way. You shall taste all the pleasures of eternity,“ i said to him in the most charming way.

I needed Obreon to be strong and cast aside his doubts. He was going back into the lion's den and had to be mentally sound. Astarion, who was still combing his hair, sent me an amused glance.

„I'm giving him something to focus on,“ i whispered to my beloved. „It's better if his aversion is aimed at me, not at his master.“

Astarion shook his head in charming disbelief. „You're positively diabolical, my darling. Not to mention impishly clever.“

His praise tickled me like nothing else. „Мove aside, i'll dry his hair.“ My smile was sly and flirty.

I brought my hands in front of me and summoned a fireball. The brightly colored flame filled the room with elongated shadows. I blew onto the fire ever so gently and a wave of hot air wafted over Obreon's hair. I repeated this a few times before extinguishing the flame.

Astarion began combing his hair again as if nothing happened.

„I wish someone took care of me, instead of feeding me dead rats and carving my skin off. My spawn should be grateful to have me as their master.“

„I wish i met you sooner, i would have draped his intestines on palace windows. You will be a better master than him, it will be your advantage. Your gift to those ingrates.“

„You're as lovely as ever,“ he stated.

Astarion put the comb down and walked out of the room.

„I'll fetch us some more wine.“

I followed him with my loving eyes, but i got interrupted by the pressure around my arm. I looked at Obreon and confirmed that he was indeed holding me. His red eyes were glued to mine, bottomless and glistening.

„You never answered me.“

„What was the question, my dear?“

„Why did you choose me?“

I lingered with my answer, letting Obreon's eyes melt into mine, his expectations to churn and tangle.

„Because i liked you.“ My answer was blunt, yet alluring. „Weren't you attracted to us, too?“

„You seduced me.“ Obreon was feverish.

„And you enjoyed it.“ My voice was sweet as honey, dark charm in full bloom. „In fact, it seemed you were waiting for it your whole life, judging by the way you were humping my hand.“

I could swear i saw the shadow of hesitation sliding across Obreon's face. He was doubting himself, questioning everything, ashamed.

„I will neve forgive you,“ he said, „but i can't hate you either.“

Simply admitting that made him feel small and guilty. It made me happy to see that we had made such a memorable impression on him, that we were messing with his pretty little head.

„There's no need to sulk. Eternal life is a gift not offered to many. You shall prosper under a reasonable master. You ought to be grateful to have Astarion,“ i cooed and leaned in to leave him tender kiss on the lips. „Get ready now.“

Obreon stood up, wrapped in his towel like a protective shell. I turned my back out of politeness and heard his towel drop to the floor. He started dressing himself. After some time i turned around and he was in his evening outfit. I ran my hand up his chest and smiled.

„So handsome. You'll need a spell to hide those eyes.“

Obreon nodded silently. He closed his eyes and began chanting. I felt a burst of magic and when he opened his eyes, they were his former color.

Astarion was back, holding two glasses of wine. He seemed pleased to see that things were going well. He walked up to us and splashed wine all over Obreon's outfit. The latter stared at him in shock, but the vampire lord simply smirked.

„You're far too clean for someone who spent the night hugging the bottle,“ Astarion said. „This will help you with your mission.“

I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and dried his face.

„Just remember this, your new abilities brought you a lot of advantages, not just weaknesses. We will meet again soon.“ I kissed him sensually and he succumbed to the charm once more. My hands moved on their own, slithering down his chest and grasping at his sides. A heavy sigh fluttered from Obreon's throat. I kissed him for a second longer and pulled away.

„You have to go now,“ i said. „I'll take you.“

Obreon shook his head, still recovering from the kiss.

„There's no need. I'll go alone. It won't be hard with a dense fog outside.“

„Have a safe journey.“

Obreon dashed past us and down the stairs. I heard the door open and slam shut. Once we were alone Astarion burst out laughing.

„That poor boy! You messed up his head and his loins! I wouldn't be surprised if he is infatuated with you, anyway, he will be eating from your hand.“

I huffed flirtatiously, „Me? You were there too, if i remember it correctly, messing with his head just as keenly as i was. He's in love with us both. He just doesn't understand it yet.“ My hand slid down the trim of his jacket.

Astarion's hand took my waist and pulled me closer. „We woke his hunger and he will be coming back until it's satiated,“ he spoke in a soft, tempting voice.

„I hope he does. Lust is more powerful than fear,“ my eyes had a sinister glow. I took the glass of wine Astarion was holding and sipped.

[chuckeroo777]

Dungeon Meshi Volume 13 Part 1

Welcome back! Things are about to reach a breaking point! You know things are crazy when all six chapters of the volume have the same name.

Volume 13's cover is literally just the gang running away from a spoiler, so please accept these cute pictures of baby Marcille from the daydream hours.

A precious image.

Wishes, man. There's always a catch. Whether that be an evil genie, or a perfect unconscious wish, it never goes how you want. This one doesn't even let you say no thanks.

This is such a good fake-out. Now someone grab some zip-ties.

So, is Marcille going to struggle with impulse control for the rest of her life, or did it just eat her desire not to lead an army to the surface?

Sure you will buddy. *proceeds to, in fact, not be careful*

Oh god, if he defeats the demon, we'll be out of a job.

This is cool and all, but what happens to this avatar after the gang goes inside? Does it turn back into monsters? Does it simply vanish? It's totally gone next time we see outside.

There was probably a more literal translation for that onomatopoeia, but damn if that isn't perfect. I also like the detail that Mithrun lost his fake eye.

Happy 8/8 everyone.

Going a little out of order here, since Chapter 87 and Misc tales 13 go together. So, everything seems to indicate that the Demon and magic itself are one and the same. But where do spirits fit into all of this? Are spirits, like, sub-sentient demon bits? Are they micro-organisms that can use magic? Everything in this page sure sounds like gnomish magic to me.

Genuinely curious how the anime will handle these panels.

How? No, seriously, how did the ancients trap the demon? The demon is an entity of unlimited power. Why is it contrained to rules? We know it likes fulfilling desires, but what's stopping it from acting on its own? Why did it need to swap with Laios just to use its power for itself? It's never really explained how the demon came to be constrained. I understand the demon's current rules, but I don't know how we reached this point.

So much world-building in one panel. I don't really get how the demon managed such massive, world sweeping changes though.

The demon is exceptionally awful. It is manipulative, selfish, cruel, and it ultimately takes everything that matters away. But it didn't become that way because of its intrinsic nature. It learned to be evil by watching us.

Seriously, the exit is right there. What is keeping the demon bound to these dungeons?

Yeah, maybe should have figured that out before going right into the lion's den. (haha)

No, see, that's the beauty of Laios' plan. By focusing so hard on plan A, the lion will be completely blindsided by plan B.

I'm sure Falin would think it's cute.

She does her best not to show it... but this is a big moment for Izutsumi. No one has ever trusted her. No one has ever implicitly trusted her with something important like this. And the craziest part? She's actually going to do it. Laios is right to trust her.

One interesting takeaway from this story is the lesson that people are, by their very nature, selfish beings. Yet, we push through, and do the right thing anyway. I'm sure someone smarter than me could articulate it better. Something something, Laios' curse.

I have some thoughts on this panel. Check out my post where I go into it in detail!

I know this is a serious moment, but Laios just looks like a creepy chicken.

Laios failed the vibe check. He looked WAY too cool and professional as he chopped off the lion's head.

Laios doesn't have an evil bone in his body, yet we're getting a Laios villain arc anyway!

Oh no! What are our heroes going to do! Find out next post!

[trooperwrites]

Solo Leveling

Enjoyment: 8/10

Quality: 4/10

Link

Genre: Action

Synopsis

Sung Jin-Woo is an weak E rank hunter barely making it in low rank dungeons when he faces a bizarre dungeon which leaves his party mostly dead and him as the only survivor. However, as the old saying goes, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Sung Jin-Woo has now acquired the ability to level up and he is on his grind to become the strongest hero of all time.

Review

I think this is probably the biggest gap I've given between the enjoyment of something and the quality. Firstly, lets talk about the positives. Solo Leveling has really nice looking art and panel composition. The fights are well framed and executed and everything looks very cool. Secondly, Solo Leveling is a very effective power fantasy. There is just something deeply satisfying about watching this guy level up and seeing the tides of battle immediately be reversed upon his arrival. In a world where good does not always prevail, it is satisfying to read Sung Jin-Woo triumph against what look to be hopeless odds. However, I think in terms of writing on a technical level that make the text worse even when considering genre and the tfact that it is suppose to be a power fantasy.

First, I want to talk about the fact that the text spends time foreshadowing things that are never developed. There are two cases that I think best exemplify this. The less egregious one was with the case of the Chinese hunter Liu Zhigang. His abilities where shown multiple times and there were numerous instances where it seemed like it he would become important in the later story. However, ultimately literally nothing happens with his character and he just gets dropped as the later arcs focus entirely on Sung Jin-Woo.

Secondly, in this case of Sung Jin-Woo's romantic interest of Cha Hae-In. Following the Jeju Island Arc, there is significant development of the relationship between the two. It appeared that she was going to his guild and maybe we would get a story arc between the two. However, some other random character ends up joining the guild and no arc happens. What makes this particularly egregious is that the new character that ends up joining the guild ends up being unimportant to the story and she doesn't actually do anything. What is the point of introducing this new characters to the guild if they aren't going to contribute meaningfully to the story. Not only is nothing done with the new character that has been introduced but also this ends Cha Hae-In being meaningful to the story. After this moment, she also disappears from the story and basically nothing happens between the two of them until shortly before the final arc where they go on a date and the epilogue where they are married. Ignoring the rest ending and epilogue for a moment, I'll get back to that at some point, there isn't enough development done between Jin-Woo and Hae-In for me to care about their relationship. They are basically strangers who haven't talked to each other in months by the time of their date. By not having Hae-In join Jin-Woo's guild, what was the point of them getting closer during the Jeju Island arc. She could basically be cut from the story and nothing would change. We lose out on having two characters interacting and developing as characters. Her character just feels like a prop to indulge in the power fantasy of the strong conventionally attractive woman falling for the main character.

This brings me to my other major critique in that Sung Jin-Woo morphs into a story warping character. This isn't true at the start, early on there are a lot of compelling supporting characters with their own struggles and goals but as the story progresses they become less and less important. Eventually, Jin-Woo is the only character that actually matters and the only character with any meaningful development. Hae-In's fate is the same as every other supporting character as they no longer become relevant nor are their arcs developed or focused on; it becomes, in essence, a one man show. This leads into the ending where Jin-Woo resets the world and everyone forgets about the hunters.

This ending is really bad; I really hate the ending. The story basically ends by wiping out every character arc other than Jin-Woo's and resets the world to what it was before the story began. To highlight why I think this story is bad, lets again focus on the epilogue where Jin-Woo gets married to Hae-In. The reason why these two characters had a connection as hunters because they were both absurdly powerful and they were both isolated. They both have dealt with the struggle of being a hunter and the isolation that comes with said power. But this Hae-In is the not same Hae-In that he marries; the Hae-In that he marries is essentially a stranger with no connection to him. However, the failure of Solo Levelling to actually develop any of its side characters means that this is failure becomes blunted. Very few characters are actually different than when we first met them so nothing much is actually reset as all the character development that actually happens is about Jin-Woo.

All in all, Solo Leveling is a very power fantasy to read but it doesn't actually do anything substantive or interesting with its characters.

[space-spring]

I reblogged that post the other day about never finishing video games and it made me stop and think hard about my life and the fact that. oh my god....... I really DO never finish video games........... So I have changed my ways by finishing up Chapter 4 and the ending of Chaos route for Tactics Ogre! Tons of endgame spoilers ahead but here are my bullet-pointed highlights:

My guy Azelstan the pirate! I love him. His whole arc with losing his daughter reminded me a little of Svarog and Hossabara from Triangle Strategy (albeit with substantially more nihilism!), and finding him at the port and then going through the story with the girl he takes under his wing made me die a little inside.

I do really appreciate the fact that even once he joins you he's still a little bit of a mess! I feel like a lot of the characters join Denam out of anger or honor or something else equally passionate, and meanwhile Azelstan's out here going "I've lost everything I love and this is just a decent way to try and make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else." He's simply a very sad old man and I love him a lot

This is not a highlight per se but it IS funny: I had to play the whole pirate cove dungeon where you recruit him like three or four times because I kept thinking I had the recruitment conditions fulfilled and then. did not in fact have the recruitment conditions fulfilled. I killed SO many ghosts. I got to the point where I just bought like 30 exorcism arcanas before going in so I could just have anyone regardless of cleric status blast the stilled undead whenever I needed to

AUGHKDHJSHDGHJJS. I am. SO unwell about the Sherri recruitment scene. I cannot express just how much I am unwell about the Sherri recruitment scene. All the Phoraena sisters really are so cool and good and I spontaneously combust whenever they come on screen but this scene is just AUUUUUGH........ It kills me thinking about how long Sherri's been hiding out because she doesn't think anyone will welcome her back and meanwhile her sisters just!!! love her so much!!!!!!!!!! and SHE loves THEM so much!!!!!! it just makes me go woaugh..........

I also just replayed some of the earlier chapters with Cerya and Cistina to test out the endgame rewind feature, and I take back my little chart I made of them a while back where they're arguing over clothes and things. All of the sisters are defined first and foremost by Being Willing To Sacrifice Everything For Each Other and I love them so much about it

And in addition to all the Phoraena sister dynamics, looking at this scene through the perspective of Denam ALSO having a sister who's keeping herself apart because she feels unloved is so. wowowowow

And on that note Denam and Catiua are rotating around in my head 24/7!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm really so in love with how far the writers went with their argument and fallout and also insane about the bad ending in this scenario because AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?!?!?!?!?! and also I'm just a sucker for guilt arcs and having to live with mistakes even when it'd be easier not to. Catiua's absolutely insane (affectionate) and I think it's so fun how she changes things around and really comes into her own after this.

Also I really really love that the two of them got to have such a narratively clear conversation about everything that went down!!!!! This is a complete tangent but I sometimes kind of go insane over the fact that in Triangle Strategy we really don't get to see a ton of Roland and Cordelia after they reunite and Whiteholm is retaken. They have. so many things to talk about, and Cordelia has more than a few valid reasons to feel resentment toward Roland for the way he handled retaking Whiteholm. The closest they come to really talking about how they feel is that scene where they're standing in the garden and Roland's trying to explain why he killed Avlora and Cordelia just kinda quietly goes, "I know. I get it. I can't blame you." And while that scene is fun in its own "this bad boy can fit SO many emotionally traumatized Cordelia headcanons in it" sort of way, it's also so so so nice to see Denam and Catiua do the opposite and actually sit down and hash it out for a bit. They get to talk about why they're angry!!! They both get to explain themselves and then reassure each other that they're still loved!!!! They get to be genuinely close again and work as a team!!!!! and I love that for them :)

Also with comparisons to Cordelia, Catiua very distinctly doesn't get sidelined after Denam rescues her!!!! She's an active participant in the war and really takes charge over Denam, which is very neat imo, and I love getting to see her coronation and speech at the end

THIS ATTACK SPECIFICALLY. The whole final boss was so cool but I actually gasped and sat back when I saw this, it was just so so different than any of the other graphics in the game and it made me go nuts

AAAAOAUGH GHAGHG

The credits are really pretty :)

RHCKCHHGLGLRLRLAHHJG I am once again foaming at the mouth about the way the game blends game mechanics and story this is SUCH a fun explanation for how the whole world tarot system works and also I am absolutely gutted by the idea of Denam doing this canonically because he can't stand the regret of the choices he's had to make. I feel like Denam's guilt over the entire conflict isn't explicitly mentioned a ton (he actively makes a lot of comments to the effect of "I'm doing what my honor dictates and I have nothing to be ashamed of") and then every once in a while the game comes back and slaps you with stuff like this. Like hey. hey. yasumi matsuno. can we talk? I jst wantto talkk

Also all the endgame content is SO GOOD. I'm starting to move over to Reborn because I want to experience all the voice acting and stuff over on that version, but it's also so hard to leave my team and all the cool stuff I've unlocked. I need to read up on it more but I'm 90% sure you can recruit Lancelot and Warren if you do the Palace of the Dead stuff which I avoided in Chapter 4, so I'm tempted to go back and do that on there sometime. Or mayhaps I'll just play it through on Reborn once I get through Lawful and Neutral!

But yeah!!! Overall, such a fun route and a fun game and a fun ending :) I do feel like I want to come back to Chaos route once I've finished the other two, because I miss Vyce and the role-playing part of my RPG-obsessed brain really wants him to survive the canon-ish ending because I think there's a ton of things from the beginning of the route that I'll think differently on now that I've finished (like all of the stuff building up to Vyce going nuts and Catiua leaving).

[sleepyorchidmonster]

What if TWST has a game franchise similar to LOZ, but it's Alice's adventures in Wonderland?

The series is quite popular, you play as Alice, with the Cheshire Cat as your companion (who tends to cause more problems than help out), the Vorpal Sword is basically the Master Sword and you help the Queen of Hearts by exploring dungeons and solving riddles and puzzles. There is even an Ace Attorney spin-off (not very successful, since the nonsensical rules annoy most players).

However, it's a general consensus that no one understands the first game. The whole playthrough amounts to 2 hours at most, though dataminers found more content in the code. It that wasn't enough, there is a weird sign right next to the first dungeon, who clearly breaks the fourth wall:

*

WARNING! YOUR GAME WILL NEVER BE THE SAME IF YOU DON'T GET THIS MESSAGE!

"Up is down, left is right,

Count the letters, subtract the spaces,

1 2 3 know 9 8 7 are your friends, now and ever,

Mind the gaps, ignore the rabbit,

There is no fun that is not maddening!"

There is also a small note in the back, written in blood-red ink, signed with a paw-print:

"I watch everything with a disinterested smirk,

With lazy eyes that twinkle like faraway suns,

You'll never find me in the night sky while I lurk,

'Cause, "mime a ton, drum te hey!"

*

Now, the Cheshire cat was only introduced in a later game, so people kept trying to find glitches to the moon (they also didn't find the cat and kept talking to a mime NPC). A quick look at the Queen's Rules also didn't help, since the number you get when subtracting the letters and spaces while ignoring the numbers just doesn't add up (something about doing parkour whenever a tree is planted).

So it stayed that way, just like the "Mew under the truck" thing.

Until Cater decided to stream a playthrough alongside the dorm (it fits the Heartslabyul theme, also Riddle is interested in gaming, so why not start with a simpler game that is also a classic).

You see, firstly, if you consider the numbers as actual names and write them as words, you get additional letters that, when subtracted by the spaces...still get a rule that doesn't make sense (don't eat a tart after midnight) BUT, if you know about Queendom history, you'll know that this rule was added by the White Rabbit to fill a GAP in the book after the Queen banned a rule about the correct way to dance (up, down, left, right, two steps forward, one step back).

Long story short, Riddle solved the problem.

So, you can get that dance and replicate it in the game, swapping up with down and left with right (forward and backwards would also be up and down, in this case).

As for the extra note, they already knew it was the cat, but if you scramble "Mime a ton, drum te hey!", you get "I am on the tree, dummy!"

The cat introduced himself, saying he'll follow the player on the next journey, but not before giving a tip: "If you want to keep going, you have to be as mad as everyone here! Why kill when you can dance? They do say singing wards off evil..."

Riddle explained all of this in fifteen minutes. Just to humor him, Cater left the sign and made a beeline for the first tree in the area, expecting nothing of it.

The Cheshire Cat showed up, his smile overtaking the screen.

And with that, Cater wordlessly rushed to the first dungeon, doing the dance code instead of killing the first enemy.

The game crashed.

And then a cutscene started playing.

It was basically the Jabberwock appearing and destroying the dungeon's ceiling. Apparently he is "searching for that damn cat" and "hoping to battle his nemesis again". With that, he leaps to the sky, and we get the game's title drop.

Do note that the game was using a style similar to "A Link to the Past" at first, but everything changed and now it looks like Twilight Princess.

And that's how Cater's streams became famous. Also everyone is trying to memorize the Queen's rules.

The streams now happen in Ramshackle, with the entire cast present. Also Riddle is annoyed because people keep asking for his assistance with solving game puzzles.

Alternatively, this could also happen in Book 6.

Everyone speedrunnimg the Overblot fight just so they can keep playing.

[phoenixcatch7]

Guess who just finished Oracle of seasons :D!!!

Very fun game actually, I didn't except it to be so enjoyable, shame on me lol. The pixels and frustrating bits absolutely did not stop me from having a blast!

But dear goodness the backtracking. Oh my gosh, THE BACKTRACKING.

I didn't get the fast travel option until pretty far in, a lot of enemies were just a pain, and the difficulty spikes came mostly from absolutely incongruent solutions to puzzles and I got lost SO many times.

That being said, it was unexpectedly pleasant to be at such risk, to have to keep engaging my brain in little ways. Modern games (yeah, like botk) have very different ideas of power scaling and difficulty. It comes from a much more honed sense of the audience and the much more open worlds used as standard now, but there was something to be said about such a linear world and story. There were different optional things along the way, yes, but really... It never stopped being a challenge. I was constantly trying to outrun garden variety enemies, wrack my brain to remember locations and how to get there, pacing back and forth staring across a pit of lava that remained stubbornly impassable.

The amount of backtracking gave me an organic feel for the world, dumb decisions had dumb consequences. I never got bored fighting enemies or exploring dungeons. I loved trying out new things that weren't immediately obvious and seeing what would happen. It felt more up to me to figure out the solution than to find out what the game was telling me the solution was, you know?

The plot was pretty much as basic as you can get, save local princess from dark castle with evil boss, but it was hardly a downside when the characters were so wacky and varied.

I loved the boss designs! They ranged from fireball geodude with a face right out of mob psycho 100, to an acidic piranha plant tree in quicksand, to a super speed glowing tiger, to a two headed skeleton dragon that shot lasers. They were all sort of lumpy in the medieval painting way, gave them a retro sort of charm and a sense of danger that the sleeker modern bosses just don't have. Make bosses lumpy again 2k24 XD.

Link was a dear and pulled off some pretty slick moves in cutscenes! The twinrova reveal (spoilers for a game that came out in 2001?) was excellent, genuinely spooked me. Also the feeling of 'hnnnnn these are hyrules problems, my circus my monkeys' was great lol. Like ugh not these bozos again. I was having a break! Saving some other unrelated kingdom! But noooo it's our problems escaping containment after all. UGH. Lmao.

The linked game ability is pretty cool. I wasn't so sure I'd play OoA after, but I just might. Wonder what'll change? The idea of Link chasing the twin witches across kingdom borders is awesome, very proactive of him! Very high stakes undercover mission style!

The ending cutscenes were very adorable as well, very Legend of Zelda (even though she doesn't even appear in this game XD).

[prismatoxic]

Thoughts upon finishing dungeon meshi? I didn't expect to fall in love with this series and about to reread it all over again cause I know there's tons of details I missed on the first time around

many thoughts... head full...

i was spoiled for a lot of the stuff in the end because that's what happens when you jump headlong into a fandom without finishing the media, but there were some things that took me by surprise, which i was grateful for. i was shielding my partner from spoilers the whole time as well, because they actively upset him and i didn't want any of the stuff i knew to ruin the reveal for him. outside of one thing (laios becoming king), he actually avoided it all!

but, like, on the whole? fuck, man. there aren't many medias i hold in such high regard.

i loved every single character in the entire story. yes, even the ones who sucked; they sucked in compelling and well-written ways. i fell hard for kabru and mithrun, and love them so much, which surprised me. like, i could write essays about kabru, i fucking love the guy. don't let the chilaios posting fool you. but i also fucking adore namari and shuro, who seemed so insignificant in the very beginning. i loved every break we got to see them, or the canaries, or kabru's party.

and our main cast... izutsumi exceeded expectations in every possible way and i can't get enough of her. senshi's backstory was heartbreaking and added a depth to him i hadn't anticipated at all. falin, despite being fridged for the majority of the story, was such an important part of it all that she permeates every inch of the tale, and her survival by the end is an emotionally momentous occasion--and she's so incredible in the moments we get to spend with her!! marcille is so richly complex and amazing to watch, whether she's struggling or dominating the scene, and her love for those close to her is beautiful; we all know she loves falin, but the depths of her affection for the others, especially laios, was amazing.

and, like, you know how i feel about chilchuck and laios. but i will say laios's arc by the end of the manga blew me the fuck away. the things he had to sacrifice to save those he loved... the way he was revealed to hate humanity, yet we know he's always kind? that the people he loves most are humans? the way he did, in the end, accept his role as king, to guide and protect people?

laios doesn't get fixed by the narrative. much like falin, he merely changes, and whether it's for the better or not isn't always clear. but his friends love him, and he's respected, even though the oddities that have been pointed out about him the entire time have gone nowhere. and i think that's fucking incredible.

ryoko kui is a master at showing and not telling. from the small actions characters perform that are never brought up in the text to the things you can trace back through the story as having always been implied, the story remains deep and compelling all the way through, building an entire world and the lives of its characters up as it goes. there was not an inch of this work that wasn't given thought and care.

i loved dungeon meshi from start to finish. nothing i've been into in the past long, long while has been so consistently well done. i'm excited to see what trigger does with it, and what else ryoko kui might do post-canon, and perhaps most of all, where the fandom takes it. it's been such a blast to engage with and i'm so glad i gave it a chance.