#scar x cub

[dork-a-doodle]

Animal Talent!Scar and his trusty steed, Jellie the cat!

Also I wanted to infodump about the ConVex in this AU:

Fairies become Vexes when directly exposed to large amounts of corrupted magic which changes them both physically and mentally, making them vicious and blood thirsty

The process is reversible, but requires restraining the Vex which can be quite the challenge. And even when cured, the Vex magic will leave permanent changes to the fairy’s body, like lingering blue pigmentation, slightly sharpened teeth and altered wing shape

Neither Cub nor Scar will tell anyone how exactly they managed to expose themselves to enough corrupted magic to get turned into Vexes

But based on the faces they make when asked, it probably happened because they were doing something very, very stupid.

[gee-arid]

Some sillies!

Mumbo: He seems.. to be a vampire bat alicorn?? Sometimes he forgets the horn or the wings though.. And hes not got a cutiemark. Oh, hes a changeling- unreformed, he missed the memo, but dont worry hes not hurting anyone- but he has a really poor understanding on pony species and what goes with what, and he aaalways forgets what he was presenting as- not to mention a cutiemark. Whats your talent mumbo? "oh! eer i forgot?" The variety of species on the server confuse him, which ones are meant to have marks and which arent??? Every other hermit knows what he is- they just dont mind, or think hes doing an elaborate bit.

Scar and Jellie: Hes part Siren, however... he did not get the flight ability. Thats okay though, Jellie always has a place to sit.

Cub: Also part siren! Though hes got more pony parts. Despite this, siren genes mean he never got a cutiemark.

Grian: A hippogriff!

[tyxaar]

Also can I just say that Cub's marketing for the fireworks factory is so damn good. Like, setting up shows in peoples' bases, arming HotGuy with an explosive crossbow, and gathering a buncha hermits for a firework battle against the dragon? I haven't seen so many fireworks used since crossbows were added!!!

[shade-e-e-es]

Another art dump, can you tell I like Ren?

[th3-c0ll3ct3r]

IF their were to be another empires smp season and either Scott or Joel or the random hermit who joins use every Time, WERE TO BECOME THE VILLIAN, then it'd take THE ENTIRE SERVERS CONBIND TO DEFEAT THEM

BUT Y'ALL AINT READY FOR THAT CONVERSATION?-

[nightgnarpy]

I cant choose a scar ship

Scar x Mumbo

Scar x Grian

Scar x cub

Scar x Skizz

Scar x wels (I see them more as platonic!)

Scar x Mumbo x Grian

I can’t choooseeee😭😭

Tbh season 4 scar and wels are Platonic couple and they still r platonic in my eyes :3 I feel like wells is aroace or under the spectrum

[convexicalcrow]

Does Scar also have a possession kink? I read your 'Old Habits' and just... Im thinking they both are whores for it. lol

I mean... yes and no. They are both whores for it but for different reasons. They get different things out of it. Yes, because possession is the vehicle by which they become full Vexes and access their powers. Scar wouldn't be so possessive of his Vex head if he wasn't into it. But there's more to it than that.

To me, what makes me say Cub has a possession kink is that for him, it's all about the lack of power, the giving up of control to a higher being or authority. It's about willingly giving your body to Something Else to use as It sees fit. (Or unwillingly, as was the case with the skulk.) It's like being in a 24/7 total power exchange/TPE relationship, to borrow some BDSM language. Cub's not in charge, because he doesn't want to be; he just does what he's told, and he's fine with that.

And ofc Scar does have that to a certain extent, because he does place the Vex as a higher authority. He still has his Vex head that he's so possessive about, he has the giant Vex head in Scarland, the Evoker in Main Street, he won't kill Vexes beause he's Not Allowed To, it's there. He's willing to serve and embrace the Vex and give them a presence in Scarland.

But to me, this isn't about Scar giving himself over to the Vex in the way Cub does. To me, this is a show of power. It's signposting what he is, what power he has access to, who he is. Scar is a Vex, and you can't go to Scarland without being able to see that. It's a threat, and a reminder, that the ConVex never went away. ConCorp didn't die at the end of s6 with Scar on his diamond throne. That lore never ended. It wasn't like wizard Scar or tycoon Scar or Elf Scar or any of the other various characters Scar has played over the years. They come and go, but Vex Scar is forever.

Contrast that with how Cub leans into it, but he isn't building Vex shrines in his base, he's not having Evokers everywhere, it's not something he shows off, because that's not who Cub is. With Cub, you don't know what's hit you until it's too late. You never see it coming. Things seem normal... until they really aren't, and you can't remember how we got here, but that's what's happened.

Like, when the crossover happened, Cub hid one (1) skulk catalyst under the sheep/cow/animal farm at the Hermit base on the first day for shits and giggles, and that seemed fine. Talked about building a cake empire. Sure, why not? Built a house out of blocks from every empire, which was a nice touch. Becomes a monster slayer bc why not and also cool giant battle axe. And then all of a sudden, ya boi decides to go into a swamp and get his ass possessed, and starts pranking hard for a couple of weeks before finally getting cured and escaping back through the rift. Like. LIKE. IT WAS LIKE FIVE WEEKS. ALL OF THAT HAPPENED IN LIKE FIVE WEEKS. There's no way we could have predicted ANY OF THAT given where we started. Especially given it was his idea. Just go to another server and get posssessed for Lore Reasons nbd. Lore that Shubble also took on as well later on in her series when she got skulk possessed while Supreme was around. Lore that Cub still leans into even now, which makes me see him as serving both the Vex and skulk, since he hasn't just left the skulk lore behind either. It's left residue that he isn't interested in dropping.

(as an aside, I find it SO INTERESTING that of all the character lore Cub has, there's nothing for the old man -> young Cub transition. He just entirely changed his default skin bc he wanted to at the start of s8 and left it at that. Which is fine! You do you, Cub. But you better believe I'm gonna fill that lore gap if he won't. XD)

Meanwhile, Scar was hanging out at Tumble Town, and having a lovely time of it which included building trains and Western-style buildings and ponderosa pine trees and not getting possessed by swamp skulk. SEE. IT'S NOT HARD CUB I PROMISE.

So yes, Scar has a possession kink, but it's nothing like Cub's. For Cub, he serves the Vex (and the skulk); for Scar, the Vex serve him.

[hermitshippingbigbang]

T-minus 2 Days!!

Writers, don't miss out! There are only 2 days left to sign up for the Hermitshipping Big Bang 2023!

Need an external support system to help keep you motivated to write? The mod team will be checking in every couple of weeks throughout the event to see how everyone's work is coming along. Our first Writer Check-in is coming up soon on June 24 (the same day that Writer Sign-ups close)! For the first three Check-ins, there are no consequences if you are lagging behind in progress; however, your fic MUST be complete by Writer Check-in 4 on September 2.

If you think you can complete a fic (or 2! or 3!) by that date, go ahead and sign up to be a writer! We'd love to have you!

Writers sign up here! [CLOSES JUNE 24]

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[limelocked]

I made the analogy and now I’m fucked I keep thinking about mcyt orv au but that’s like it’s fucking impossible have you SEEN orv??? orv can’t be anything But orv making anything else- it’s like homestuck but So Much Worse and more blatant

[masterattendanthuang]

feel like i had to clarify something here because of tags

i did not draw this with just grian in mind^^ this is a beautiful poly relationship pls respect that

happy pride everyone i offer this to yall

grub exclusive before i go eep gnight

[moomoorare]

Drew for my sof au last night. I LOVE MAKING DESIGNS DUDE!!!

[noctude]

this idea has been in my brain for over 2 months and I finally had time to make it. is this too earnestly cringe to upload? i am beyond the capacity to care. enjoy

now on youtube!

[link to drive folder w/ downloads including instrumental]

Everything was chill back in Hermitcraft 6 (lying)

Then Grian got up to his usual tricks 

The name of the game is kill or be killed

No swords no bows no PVP skills

First Rendog found his inner fish

But he couldn’t stick the landing and his bones went squish

Stress flew through the dares with talent and grace

But she didn’t catch the totem and she fell on her face

Then Ren came back with a sinister vice

Tricked X with a race and blew him up twice

Looks like steel beams can’t be melted by slime

‘Cause Jevin didn’t see Mumbo’s tower in time

Stress set a trap at the shopping district

And dropped Scar right into a pufferfish pit

Cub’s stunt got stuck and X felt robbed

So he got a skeleton to finish the job

This is the Hermitcraft showdown of Hermitcraft destiny

Players, mobs, and explosions as far as the eye can see

And only one will survive, I wonder who it will be

This is the Hermitcraft showdown of Hermitcraft destiny

Tango and Impulse were shopping at the mall

But the store detonated and it killed them all

Grian had a no-good-very-bad-day 

And when he made it back home he got blown away

Then False broke a block and before she could speak

A giant underground explosion sent her into next week 

Cleo signed up for a warehouse tour

But she didn’t read the waiver and she fell through the floor

And TinFoilChef went laughing to the grave

Then without another word went back into his caves

Tango’s game was a race against the clock

And Keralis threw an egg at the most explosive block  

Now revenge is a dish that’s best served cold 

But Bdubs got it boiling as Cleo foretold

And when Joe got the rug pulled from under his feet

He tried to play it cool but he couldn’t take the heat 

This is the Hermitcraft showdown of Hermitcraft destiny

It’s 90% explosions as far as the eye can see

And only one will survive, I wonder who it will be

This is the Hermitcraft showdown….

In another dimension

With danger abound

Mumbo threw his ender-pearl

But missed solid ground

And Doc had played smart

But Grian played mean

He was dead on arrival,

The trap unforeseen

Then one player remained,

One Dragon Head left-

For the ride of his life, 

Iskall auctioned his death

He beat Joe Hills And ZombieCle-o

And every other member of the Dragon Bros:

FalseSymmetry and BDoubleO

And Grian and Mumbo Jumbolio 

Also Rendog, Jevin, TangoTek and Cubfan, 

Stress, Scar, and X just couldn’t beat the Iskallman

TinFoilChef or ImpulseSV

Doc can rock with blocks but can’t flee

So Grian and Impulse forged a team

And together they built a death machine

With a narrative arc from beginning to end

And a wild surprise around every bend

When the show and the ride were finally done

Our champion knew that his course had run

All that remains from the end of this fight 

Is a piece of bloodstained diorite 

This is the hermitcraft showdown of hermitcraft destiny

Just way too many explosions - where do they get all that TNT???

And only one will survive, I wonder who it will be

This is the Hermitcraft showdown

(this is the Hermitcraft showdown)

This is the Hermitcraft showdown  

(this is the Hermitcraft showdown)

This is the Hermitcraft showdown 

(this is the Hermitcraft showdown)

Of Hermitcraft destiny

[obssesseddepressedsleeplessmess]

hermitcraft season x

everything keeps going wrong and its hilarious

day 1:

welsknight's power went out five minutes before they started

keralis couldn't join and no one noticed for a bit

xisuma fell in lava and almost died in the first five minutes

mumbo had to do the introduction (and he claims he know the least of what is going on)

gem's game was glitching with falling blocks

ren set up the coop caving only to be the only one to die

impulse (skizz's best friend) killed skizzleman as the first kill (not death) in demise

after that:

grian is obsessed with fishing to get a mending book and can't get one in over 4000 attempts when impulse got one in under 20

mumbo dying to phantoms rather than the complicated trap set up for when he came back from afk

iskall's collaborative base

scar seeing the trap cub set and activating it while laughing about how he wouldn't fall for it (and losing all his resources)

stress dying to a trap made for iskall

Bonus: not really wrong but everyone taking things slow except for doc who had a villager trading hall day 1 and then took off to go be doc and break Minecraft

[talesofesther]

first in my heart

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.

A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.

Word count: 4,7k

Masterlist

"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."

It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.

To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.

And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.

Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.

He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.

Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.

It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.

The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.

You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.

With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.

"What are you up to, my sweet?"

The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.

The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.

You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."

You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.

Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"

The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."

Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."

He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.

You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.

Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.

He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.

And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"

A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.

You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.

The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.

When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.

You didn't.

You said you cared for him. You hugged him.

There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.

Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.

He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.

Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.

Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.

There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.

With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.

It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.

But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.

The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.

Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.

Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.

"Astarion?"

With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.

"Is everything okay?"

Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.

Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"

The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.

You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."

But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?

Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.

He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.

Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.

He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.

Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.

Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.

And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.

He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.

You could only hope he would adore it just as much.

It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.

Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.

You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.

Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.

You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.

With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.

You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.

"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.

You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.

"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.

You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."

His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.

"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.

A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.

You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.

"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.

For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.

You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.

"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.

Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.

"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"

You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."

A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.

You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.

Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.

The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.

A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.

He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.

People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.

Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.

Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.

You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.

Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.

"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.

"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."

Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.

There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.

Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.

You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.

When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."

You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

[convexicalcrow]

"Sir, you might want to see this," Bdubs said as he peeked into the Mayor's office.

"Oh? Have you found the Mycelium Resistance at last?" Scar said brightly as he got to his feet.

"Well, I- I don't really know. It's- just come and see, alright?" Bdubs said.

"Alright, alright. Lead on, my loyal captain!" Scar said.

Bdubs led him over to Cub's quartz shop, where the invincible end crystals pointed right up to the 0,0 origin of the world. Scar didn't see anything amiss just yet until-

"Hey. What's that weird- that's not mycelium, is it? That dark green stuff?" Scar said, seeing the strange substance spilling out from the central column where Cub kept his stock.

"I don't know what it is, it just appeared! Joe saw it, he reported it to me, and I felt you ought to know, sir. I don't know if it being here means Cub has anything to do with it, or if it's just a coincidence. I wouldn't touch it, though. It could be dangerous," Bdubs said.

"Hmm. Well, Joe was right to report this. I need to know if anything appears here that risks the beautiful grass of the shopping district! I suggest we ask Cub first, just to see what he has to say for himself. And if it's not him, well, we'll look elsewhere!" Scar said.

"Sounds good to me. I'll cordon off the shop and investigate further," Bdubs said.

-

Scar went first to the pyramid, and saw the huge crystal growths on a small island near the pyramid. They were emitting a strange kind of energy that Scar didn't like, and he liked it even less when he saw more of that strange dark green material at the base of the crystals.

"Hmm. This doesn't seem good at all," Scar said. "I'll see if he knows what's going on here."

-

The great door to the pyramid was sitting open when Scar arrived. There was more of that substance around, and it made him feel very uneasy. Had something got to Cub? Some new kind of mycelium?

"Cub? Cub, are you in?" Scar called as he walked inside.

"Scar! Just the Mayor I wanted to see," Cub called from deep within the pyramid. "Come on in, come on in, my friend!"

"Are you okay? Only there's all this weird substance I keep seeing around. You haven't joined the Mycelium Resistance have you? Because I'll be very cross if you have!" Scar said.

Cub laughed, and it was the kind of laugh Scar knew came from the Vex. That sinister laugh that also carried Cub's chaotic madness. The kind of laugh that made Scar's spine shiver.

"I'm serious! It's all over the pyramid! And it's in the shopping district! Do you know what's going on?" Scar said.

He got to the entrance to the storage room and noticed that all the lighting had been replaced with soul lanterns. And perching on the top of the rail above Xibalba was Cub, only he had clearly been corrupted by that same green substance.

"Well, hello there, Mayor Scar," Cub said. "Have you come to spread the skulk with me?"

"Skulk? What on earth is skulk? Is it that green stuff? How'd it even get here? I've never seen that before in my life!" Scar said.

Cub chuckled and moved off the railing. His eyes were glowing bright turquoise green and black, as if he had been possessed. He reached for Scar and Scar backed off, not wanting to be touched by that stuff, whatever it was, that had coated Cub's hands.

"Spread the souls, spread the skulk, spread the souls, spread the skulk," Cub murmured, chanting the words to himself as he stared right at Scar.

Scar couldn't look away. He never really could with Cub, to be honest. "You're mad. This- this isn't you. Where's my ConVex, hey? Where's my fellow Vex? What's going on?"

"Oh, the Vex are dead, don't you know? Everyone's dead. It's just you who's holding out. Come with me, Scar. Come and embrace the skulk," Cub said.

"The Vex are not dead, Cub! They live! They're very angry right now, let me tell you! What's done this to you? How can I cure you of-of whatever this thing is?" Scar said.

"There's no curing, only spreading," Cub said, grasping Scar's wrist tightly. "We took over with the Vex, but we can do so much more with the skulk."

"Hey! Let go of me! Hey!" Scar tried to pull away, but Cub's grip was too strong.

Scar stared in horror as that substance - the skulk? - started to creep over his hand, besmirching his glorious Mayoral outfit! The cheek of it! His anger went no further, though, as Cub touched his cheek, and Scar found himself immobilised.

[blueberrysnake]

new headcannon: Scar and Cub grew up together and found their way onto the hermitcraft server, where they were immediately adopted by everyone after they were found out to be without parents. They also became the resident vex experts, for obvious reasons. Attatched below is a short little thingy I decided to make.

X was happy to have new members joining his steadily growing group of rag-tag friends, but there's also a lot of safety paperwork that he has to fill out. He doesn't like paperwork; it's extremely boring.

Though, when Scar and Cub showed up, X knew they would be perfect fits to the Hermit craft family. It has been impossible to get them away from each other, though. They said they grew up together.

"Okay, down to our final two questions. What are your hybrid statuses," X asked the two friends that were sitting across the table.

"We're vex," Scar replied, in a quiet voice.

"Alright, I don't know that much about Vex, if you guys want, you can teach me sometime!" X replied, marking it down in two separate charts before continuing, "Right, and lastly, do you two have any parents that I can put down for an emergency contact?"

Cub and Scar look at each other, faces contorted in confusion. They seem to have an entire conversation between each other, before Cub speaks up.

"What- What are parents?" He asked in a timid voice.

X looked shocked for a moment, before deciding to elaborate slightly, to maybe get rid of some confusion.

"So a parent is who takes care of you when you're young. Who did that for the both of you?"

Cub immediately points a finger towards Scar, just as Scar does the same for Cub.

"Oh boy," X quietly sighs, knowing fully well the boys will be adopted by everyone in the server within a moment.

more vex lore you (and i) wish didn't exist

(from their s5 vex shop)