#so i often feel hungry and experience the hunger pains

[kittycomrade]

I dying sen help

[bg-brainrot]

Failed Every Insight Check and Fell all the Harder (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Companion piece to: Failed a Dex Save and Fell for You

Summary: After a few months of traveling together, Astarion has begun to experience some new feelings around you. After one fateful day in Moonrise Towers, he finally figures out what those feelings are.

Tags: Astarion POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Awkward Fluff, tw: mentions of astarion's past and all that comes with it, tw: mentions of araj scene, Feelings Realization, Jealousy

A/N: here comes the awkward, fluffy Astarion figuring out his feelings Valentine’s special. He’s a hot mess, of course. (happy Early Valentine’s because I will be busy on Valentine’s) And thanks to everyone who voted for this one!

Word count: ~4.8k

Ever since your group entered the Shadowlands, something has been bothering Astarion. He hadn't noticed at first– or rather, had tried his best to ignore it. But, as time goes on, he’s finding it more and more difficult to brush aside.

It had started out small. An odd pain in the pit of his stomach.

What was that? he'd thought, holding a hand to his abdomen in concern. Perhaps he was just hungry, but it certainly didn’t feel like the ever-present hunger in his belly. No, that was a dull, continuous ache. This? This felt like something was weighing him down. Maybe I’m ill. I shouldn’t mention it to anyone, lest Lae’zel slit my throat in my sleep.

Besides, the pain didn’t happen often. He noticed it a distinct few times.

Once, when you first entered the Shadowlands. He’d just watched you bend down, hands plucking at something off the side of the cursed lands’ road. He thought momentarily that he ought to stop you, that none of you knew what could be lurking in its magical darkness. But that tinge of worry was promptly replaced by that same gods awful pit in his stomach. 

Because there you were, presenting your party’s cleric with your spoils. You were gifting Shadowheart a night orchid– had remembered that she mentioned loving them. You bore the woman’s wretched joke with a smile. Disgusting, Astarion thought. No wonder my stomach feels uncomfortable, what a pathetic little exchange.

Like everything that had bothered him in the last couple of months since finding himself free of Cazador, he decided to forget the feeling. Life is his to take full advantage now, why let something like that affect him?

Or so he thought until the next time the feeling made its return.

You had just arrived at the Last Light Inn as a group, found shelter through the Harpers’ well-established safe haven. Astarion was quite happy to be rid of the shadows, content to cozy up in an inn. He figured, if he played his cards right, you may even let him partake in your blood or ask for a bit of fun.

Then your party found Dammon. Equipped with Infernal Iron and one blazing hot barbarian, Dammon made magic happen in a matter of moments. 

Astarion was glad. As much as the group was a bit much at times, he understood Karlach’s struggle with her body all too well. She deserved this small victory in reclaiming her body. 

His feelings of genuine sympathy were short-lived though because a moment later you were wrapping your arms around the tiefling’s body. It was a test, of course, to see if Dammon’s fusing had worked. But there it was again, the feeling in his stomach. This time it felt twice as heavy, a lead ball in his guts. Maybe I should let someone know, he thought. This can’t be good.

But the sensation was soon forgotten as your group settled into the Last Light Inn. Old allies were in some miserable new states– requiring even more help, gods– and new acquaintances were made. It was all rather dull for Astarion.

The one time Astarion perked up was when you went head-to-head with the head Harper. He chuckled under his breath when you outsmarted the old crone, Jaheira. That’s right, Harper. Don’t mess with my protector.

Your first night at the inn was capped off with a bit of revelry: a game of Truth or Dare. 

Astarion could sense your reluctance to play. You’d been acting odd all day, stiff and awkward around him. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to tease you to the high celestial plane– in fact, he already knew what he wanted to ask you. “You are going to regret this so much," he'd said to you from across the table.

Then the game began, and the deep, uncomfortable feeling never left his core.

Each and every companion received your attention throughout the game, in one way or another. Even that damned smith, Dammon, was given a dare from you. And Astarion just sat there, not even earning a glance, his mood growing more and more sour.

When, at last, he was able to taunt you with his question, you were far too in your cups to give a proper response. He sat on your lap, placed there from one of Shadowheart’s dares, staring into your surprised, open eyes, wishing that he'd thought of an easier question for an inebriated version of you.

The group had shooed you both out of the game upon seeing your state, though Astarion didn't mind. He'd much rather leave the lot of them and tease you by himself.

Once you were alone, you answered his question. That he, Astarion, was your favorite and for all manner of incredulous, unbelievable reasons. He’d expected you to say him. He’d asked to hear your praise, confirm your attachment in the name of his plan to seduce you. All the same he was left uncomfortable, juggling the sudden and unabashed flattery. Being praised for his looks was one thing but for being… himself?

The feeling in his stomach grew. Suddenly his lungs felt it, his undead heart felt it. What in the sweet hells is the matter with me? he thought, as he helped lay your drunken, passed out form to bed later that night. He hadn’t felt a sensation like this before– he hated it. 

Then you reached out to him in your sleep, and he froze. Something about the touch quietened the pain under his ribs, and so he extended his fingers, gently touching your brow as you fell asleep. See? I’m fine, he assured himself. I truly am just ravenous.

__

He continued this way for several days in the Shadowcursed lands.

One moment, he was perfectly fine, hacking and slashing at a Shambling Mound with abandon. The next, he would look over at you, see you laughing at something Karlach said, and it felt like an iron ingot had made its way into his insides.

Damned tiefling woman. I’m far funnier than her, you know, he thinks, resheathing his knives with a little too much gusto. The sound of your laughter rang in his head for the rest of the evening, as if he were being driven to insanity by it.

The next day, you had fought a horde of Meazels. At first, Astarion thought the fight was delightful fun– the tiefling woman and the cleric kept getting teleported against their will and after his recent annoyance with both of them, he found it quite amusing. That is, until you found yourself garrotted, teleported as far away from him as possible.

He was on you in mere moments, ripping the creature off of you with his blades. It was almost as if he’d reacted instinctively and, as someone whose instincts typically led him away from danger, he found the sensation quite off-putting. Nevertheless, he'd freed you, asking, “Are you alright, darling?”

Astarion couldn’t remember what you’d even said because once he saw the marks the creatures left on you, the pit in his stomach dropped. Where there had been a heavy pressure before, there was now a sharp feeling. His eyes carefully trailed over your injuries, trying his best to focus on you and not the phantom pain building inside him.

You had been fine, nothing that a quick heal from Shadowheart couldn’t fix, but that feeling stayed in his stomach the rest of the day. It’s simply the Shadowlands, he'd thought. They not only play tricks on the mind, clearly they’re playing tricks on my body.

It was a few days later, as you helped the Harper’s deal with their lantern problem that the sensation shifted again.

Astarion watched, eyes glued to your form, as you dispatched the hideous drider, your twin blades piercing the creature in its most vulnerable spots. He’d seen you kill many monsters before, hundreds likely at this point. But something about the way your body moved in the Moonlantern’s glow, the way your face lit up as the creature’s body crumpled to the floor, caused the vampire to stop and watch.

This time, he’d felt the heavy sensation move up, somewhere just below his throat. He tried against all odds to gulp it away, but nothing seemed to work. We need to finish our business here and get out as soon as possible, he thought now, convinced it was the shadows warping his senses…

But as your travel continues, the feelings never go away. 

It’s a different pressure, it builds, it ebbs, it flows between his heart, his stomach, his torso– and each time he brushes it off. Stewing in these uncomfortable feelings, Astarion spends the week in a hazy mire, not unlike the shadows that surround you all.

Then your group finally infiltrates Moonrise.

__

Moonrise Towers, the seat of the Absolute and a once grand fortress. 

Now, Astarion can’t help but think it seems rather underutilized. Your group is walking along the empty parapets outside, which are woefully missing any sense of grandeur or ornamentation. “Darling,” he says, leaning into you slightly. “Don’t you think we ought to just kill everyone now and take the place for ourselves. Might be quite fun.”

You bark out a laugh, which he feels proud to have produced, and reply, “Maybe later. This is an infiltration mission only. Besides, once we defeat the Absolute, I’m sure there will be a vacancy.”

Astarion laughs back at you. Gods, he enjoys this. The way that he can say something that others would balk at and you will miraculously not only appreciate it, but also play along with it. Having fun with them is so easy, he thinks. And look, I’m still wearing all of my clothes! What a novel idea.

The thought is cut short when your group walks through an outside doorway into a room that can only be described as grotesque. Whoever works here clearly has some knowledge of arcana, if the ingredients and alchemical tools are anything to go by, but it smells utterly foul to Astarion.

It’s when you spot the drow woman hunched over a table in the corner that he realizes where the stench is coming from. Hells below, that woman reeks of something truly awful, he thinks, recoiling. He’d grown used to following behind you closely, but as you step forward to speak to the woman, he finds himself taking a step back instead.

The woman introduces herself as Araj Oblodra, a trader of blood– a rather poor trader, by the smell of it. She takes note of Astarion, who shuffles back instinctively, before you and her go about some kind of business with your blood. Astarion contemplates speaking up, shooing you away from her, but decides to stay back, as far away as he can remain without arousing suspicion. They can handle themselves.

Then, after the woman looks back toward him one too many times, he hears you snap, “And why are you so interested in my pale friend?” 

“Ah, yes. Perhaps there’s one more thing we could discuss,” she begins, her voice a dangerous drawl. “He’s a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn at least.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Astarion says, all-too-ready to fill his role. “We’re all friends under the Absolute. I won’t bite.”

“Oh, I’d prefer if you did,” she’s quick to respond. Her eagerness picks at Astarion’s nerves, and he raises an eyebrow at her. Araj doesn’t deign to give him another moment’s look though, as she turns back to you. “I assume he belongs to you?”

“Excuse me?” Your voice sounds offended– on his behalf, Astarion wonders? “He’s his own person.” Your words cause the feeling in Astarion’s stomach to flip, and, as much as he wants to come to his own defense, he finds himself quite content to hear you do it for him.

“I’m sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable,” she says with a snide chuckle. 

Adorable? he thinks, but he’s unable to interject before the woman continues to barrel forward.

The blood trader turns back to Astarion, face wrinkled with distaste as her tone changes to something a bit more confrontational, “Do you have a name, spawn?”

Her sudden shift in attitude, the proud tilt to her head, it all throws the vampire off balance as he goes to answer, “Astarion, b-but hold on!” Astarion holds up a hand to try to slow this woman’s tirade, all to no avail.

“Good. Now, Astarion, I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl,” Araj begins, laying out the scene for her request.

Too bad that the scene sounds quite ridiculous to Astarion. Surely he heard her incorrectly? “I’m sorry, you want to be bitten?”

The woman goes on a new insane diatribe– something about dancing with death– but Astarion can hardly be bothered. All he needs to know is that she’s offering some measly potion for being bitten and, gods, does he not want to bite this woman’s disgusting neck. Or wrist. Or really any part of her. “I will have to decline,” he says, with a gracious little bow. Your group is still infiltrating the towers, it wouldn’t do to tell Araj exactly how horrid she smells.

It’s entirely more grace than she deserved, that much is clear because she presses him again. Again, he refuses. “I gave you my answer.”

The drow scoffs, turning back to you once more, “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?”

You, for your part, look confused. There’s a line of concern in your forehead as you look between the woman and Astarion, wondering what it is that you’re missing. “I’m surprised, Astarion. I thought you’d enjoy an opportunity like this.”

What?! he thinks, a sudden, sharp spike of anger shooting through him. He tempers his immediate rage and speaks to Araj with that same, false pleasantry she doesn’t deserve, “I’m sorry, but could you excuse us a moment?”

Astarion, not waiting for her response, pulls you aside, away from the drow’s nosy eyes and ears. Once you’re alone, he turns to you, his voice a hiss, “Are you actually asking me to do this? Trading me for some-some-some potion?”

“What’s the matter? Why would she be different from any other enemy?” you ask, leaning toward him.

Your voice is full of genuine worry, and some of his anger abates as he meets your eyes. Of course, they don’t know what they’re asking. How could they know? “Because there’s something wrong with her blood. I can smell it from here. Ugh, it’s rank.”

Now your brows furrow, and a sharp edge enters your eyes as you ask your next question, “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her blood?”

“I can’t say. It just smells… wrong. Unnatural.” His words sound pathetic to his own ears. 

Of course that’s not an excuse, Astarion laments. What am I even thinking? The potion is clearly useful. They are going to make me do this, and I may as well prepare myself. I’ve put up with worse after all.

So, he stands straight once more, ready to put on the performance of a lifetime. His tone takes on a resigned tone as he continues, “Drinking it wouldn’t kill me, but it would not be pleasant.”

You both hear a sigh from behind you. “I don’t have all day, True Soul,” Araj calls, impatiently.

Your eyes remain focused entirely on him, ignoring the woman’s irritated sigh, her entitled words. “Astarion,” you begin, and he takes a breath in preparation for your other foot to drop. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do. And if she refuses to take no for an answer again, we’ll simply have to start our assault on the towers a bit early.”

The breath leaves him.

"Alright. Uh, thank you,” he says, feeling the tension drop from his shoulders. He’d been prepared to acquiesce, to do exactly what you’d asked of him. But this? This is something he hadn’t been prepared for. 

In a daze, Astarion makes his way back to Araj, putting on as polite of a facade as he’s still capable of making, “It's still a ‘no’, I’m afraid.”

“How very disappointing,” the blood trader says, shooting you both a disgusted look. She turns away in a huff, leaving your group alone to recover from the exchange. And leaving Astarion floundering in another new sensation.

Because once more, the feeling in the pit of his stomach has reared its ugly head– only this time it shoots through him like a bolt of lightning. He's not sure what it is, but it's stunned him into slipping off his carefully crafted mask. He turns to you once more, voice soft around its usual edges, "Thank you. I… appreciated that.”

"You have no need to thank me. It was always your choice, Astarion."

Huh.

The feeling sinks into him, settling deeper and deeper as you continue through Moonrise.

__

That night, you go to bed in your own bedroll, leaving Astarion to his meditations with a smile and a wave. It has been a long day for all of you, and it's clear from the way you take a glance back that you're worried about him.

Gods, he's worried about him.

After dealing with that vile drow woman, you'd all continued about the tower, ingratiating yourselves with even the most repugnant of creatures to appear faithful to the Absolute. But Astarion paid attention to almost none of it.

He'd stabbed when you told him it was time to stab, he'd joined your side when you called him to you, but his mind had been wholly preoccupied.

They didn't make me do it, he'd thought, as he unlocked some chest.

Well, isn't this exactly what I wanted? he'd thought, following you down some stairs.

Clearly they just fell for my charms, my masterful seduction, he'd thought, flanking a prison guard for you.

So why do I feel like this? he'd thought, staring at your back as you led the way before him.

Now, he lays here in his tent, staring at the fold of its ceiling in a rapt fascination he doesn't feel. The feeling in his stomach has stayed all day, tethering him to his thoughts with its continuous pressure.

When did I get to the point where I would follow them anywhere? Is their lack of self-preservation contagious? he asks himself, eyes narrowing in frustration. I shouldn't have gone into that horrendous tower in the first place. Then I wouldn't feel like this.

But he had.

And you'd not forced him to do so.

You'd not forced him to do anything.

They're a fool, an utter fool. I could have bitten that drow, as easy as breathing, he thinks, rolling his eyes at the thought. Close your eyes and push through, that's what I always say.

But did you want to? something in the back of his mind asks. 

Of course not, but when has what I wanted ever mattered– 

It may not have mattered under Cazador's grip, but it has always mattered to you. You're nothing like that evil man. You'd always been there for him, had managed to find trust in your heart for him, and had been genuinely kind to him.

The now-familiar feeling in his stomach seems to spread to the rest of his body, a warmth that doesn't quite feel warm. It bleeds all the way to his face and his lips curl up into an involuntary smile at the thought of you.

You– you, who had only ever been meant to play a bit role in the tragedy that is Astarion’s life. You, who had transcended your part, leaving Astarion contemplating every aspect of you in the stark solitude of his tent. 

Your beauty when you're covered in blood after a battle, the mischievous glint in your eye when you're teaching a child a sleight of hand trick– even when anger pulls your brows together and you're yelling at him for saying something particularly naughty. Each and every one makes his smile grow wider.

You, his chosen protector, are so much more than just that.

They are incredible. The thought comes to him unprompted, truly as easy as breathing.

His eyes widen in alarm, staring blankly at the tent above him.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t an illness. Nor was it hunger. No. It was guilt. It was jealousy. It was…

Oh fuck, Astarion curses to himself. Am I in love?

Now that he has a word to the sensation, that the feeling is in his grasp, he knows he's right. He doesn't have a lot of experience with love, if any– he'd never had the luxury under Cazador's cruel gaze and he can't recall much from before that– but he knows he's right.

And hells does he wish he could crush the feeling in his hands right here and now.

Gods, you complete and utter imbecile, he thinks, hitting his head against the floor. You have things to do, goals to accomplish. They were only supposed to be a means to those goals, not a – a–

Astarion’s mind blanks as he thinks of you again, your charm, your wit, your damnable caring.

Not a companion. Not a friend. Not a lover. When did those late night trysts turn from an obligation, a part of his simple, perfect plan, into something more?

Even now, as he thinks of those nights, he brings a hand to his lips, recalling a night where you had simply stayed in his bedroll. You had kept all of your clothes on, as had he, and simply held each other as you fell asleep. Their kiss that night was delectable, he recalls, tracing the line of his lips, as if he could still feel the ghost of yours on them.

Fuck, he thinks again, dropping his hand in frustration. How could I have been so blind? How did I not nip this in the bud before it got to this disgusting pining?

But he hasn’t nipped it in the bud. The feeling has grown, unfettered, quick as a druidic plant growth, all unbeknownst to him. It has been nurtured by your attention. It has been watered by your kindness. It has become unruly in the safety of your arms.

Now what? he thinks to himself bitterly, wiping a hand across his face with a sigh. What use are these feelings when everything they were built upon is a lie? You are, after all, still playing the role he set out for you.

He considers overlooking the feelings, just as he has inadvertently done in his ignorance. It wouldn’t be of any use to tell you, of course. You could hardly feel the same way about him as he does you, and he’d rather not add another nuisance in the fight against the Absolute.

Besides, if he told you, he would have to fess up, explain his entire plan to you. What would even be left of the two of you after that?

But, he thinks to himself. Let’s say I did tell them. What could they possibly say…

“I was pretending all along too.” – gods, that would break him. That much is all too apparent from the way his undead heart aches at the thought, with a pain he couldn’t possibly feel.

“I like you, but not like that.” – maybe this was worse. Actually, it was definitely worse. He may never recover. His ego would certainly never recover.

“I have someone else that I love.” – honestly, reasonable. What did he have to offer you after all? A bloodthirsty master and the occasional snarky comment? He wouldn’t be surprised to find you in Karlach’s tent at this very moment…

“I hate you.” – he might be able to take this the best. You should hate him. He’d done nothing but lie and manipulate his way into your bedroll. Hate, well, that he understood.

“I love you, but…” – every single 'but' cut like a different, jagged blade. But we’re in danger every day? An excuse, surely. But you come with too much baggage? True, but not something he would be able to resolve. But I don’t want to be with a monster? Again, reasonable, but out of his control.

Astarion runs through scenario after scenario, each one playing with his own emotions in a new and horrendous way. In the end, he all but slaps himself out of it.

No, I cannot tell them. I absolutely must take this to my second grave, he determines, shaking the thoughts away with a few hard blinks.

But the feeling in his chest is more persistent than ever. As if giving it a name and meaning has given it a new, annoying life. He laments to himself aloud, "I may never feel like myself again.”

If this is what love does to a person, he wants no part of it.

__

The vampire didn't have a restful night's reverie, that much is apparent. His mood is foul, his body tense, and his eyes are trying their damnedest to avoid yours. 

No way, he thinks as you all set off for the day. I spun myself into a frenzy last night. Clearly. I feel absolutely nothing–

Then you turn back to him, concern lining your eyes as you address him. What had you just said? He had found himself somehow lost in your eyes, your lips, the turn of your nose… 

Shit, he thinks to himself. No, get back in control. You have only just reclaimed yourself, you can't lose yourself to something as cruel as love.

But, try as he might, his eyes can’t avoid you. 

All morning, he continues to sneak glances your way. Despite his roguish nature, he finds hiding his stares to be impossible. After all, you are the group’s leader. You are at the front, you are at his side, gods, you are everywhere. This feels like some kind of divine punishment…

You catch him looking, of course. And each time, he curses himself, gods, you idiot. You may as well broadcast your feelings to the world. And hells, how long have you felt this way?

Astarion tries futilely to act normal. This is just another day with the group in the Shadowlands. He’s not thinking about holding your hand in his. He’s not thinking about the way you look when you sleep. And, above all else, he is not thinking of your lips or the way that they move when you say his name.

Despite his inner turmoil, the world moves on. You lead the group through the Mason’s Guild, and you all manage to clear the place out easily enough.

The vampire thinks he’s finally reaching some sort of peace. Yes, this routine work he can do. No problem at all.

Then, you say something kind to Karlach, that infernally charming woman, who continues to support you at your side. Who, for all intents and purposes, should be the person who warms your bedroll at night, now that you can touch her. Not him, the man who can only make your bedroll colder. Who, even now, is avoiding your every glance.

Oh hells, he thinks, face dropping. The realization that he’s right is too much for him to bear.

Astarion stalks off, annoyed at himself and his thoughts, needing a moment to recollect himself. I can do this, he thinks. I can do this. I can–

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath once he knows he’s alone. “You’re supposed to get over this, you stupid fool. Shit. Gods dammit.”

He hears your familiar footfalls approaching and freezes, his shoulders tense with anticipation.

You find him in a pool of shadows away from the others, and he can’t help but feel like a beast that’s been cornered. He’s certain his face reflects that, reflects every bit of emotion he’s feeling as plain as could be, but your patience with him has apparently worn thin for the day. Your voice is less kind than usual when you say, “Do you need to talk?”

Seeing the anger in your face, the way that your hands are placed on your hips in annoyance, he knows he can’t keep his feelings to himself. He’ll only continue to push you away, into the strong, red arms of another.

No, he thinks, in a panic. I should– I need to–

He needs to do something about his feelings, unwanted or not. Really, he needs to tell you, regardless of what your response may be. If not, he may regret it for the rest of his undying life.

Now that he is in control of his own choices, he supposes that means all of them, for better or worse. That means even the most difficult ones. This is one of those difficult ones, isn’t it?

So Astarion swallows his pride, his anxieties, his insecurities, and settles his fate.

“Later,” he says, barely getting the words out. He blinks, and tries again, pleading with you with his eyes, “Please, just come by my tent later.”

Later, I will tell them. Everything.

[aagneauu]

High value habits to elevate yourself 🥂✨

When the term "high value" is mentioned, we often think of things related exclusively to economic wealth, but being a high-value person is an attitude, an attribute founded on habits and a wealthy mentality. So today I wanted to mention a few habits that I personally perceive as something a person with strong standards apply on their lives. ✨

Sorry if there's any grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language :b

1. Long-term mentality ✦

Enjoying yourself is very important, but when we only think about the things that give us temporary pleasure, is often very likely that we forget to take care about our future stability. For example, if you want to travel, the smart thing to do would be to save the money in order to be able to afford it, but how many times we just feel the urge to waste money on unnecessary stuff just to get that brief satisfaction, that bad habit will take us far from our goals. This rule can be applied on almost every aspect, and if you're able to stick to your goals and take decisions according to them, trust me, you'll get very far.

2. Invest ✦

Stop wasting and start investing; your money, your time and your energy. In terms of money, you obviously can spend some of it on pretty stuff, but instead of wasting your whole salary on things you want, a smarter move would be to use part of that money to invest it on something that potentially can give us another income, maybe there's a valuable peace of jewelry or clothing that not only we could use, but to sell and trade in the future, or even if you have enough money saved, you can invest in a property, to not only live in it, but to rent it. Our time and energy works in the same way, we could be wasting our time and energy with people that don't give us nothing we can learn from, and you're worth way more than that. Find people and habits that not only make you feel good and appreciated, but that will leave you something interesting for your personal growth, and remember, better alone than in a bad company.

3. Details matter ✦

How we talk, how we decide to present ourselves to the world, our values, the effort we put on what we make. Every little detail says something about us. For example, something as simple as spraying perfume before we go out makes a difference, or if you study, the amount of time and effort you decide to put on certain classes. Socially, what you decide to say, and to develop the hability to stay quiet when necessary. Maybe you think that those little things don't make a huge difference at the long-term, but when you see how your life can change drastically with every little step you take, you learn to pay attention to it.

4. Patience ✦

It is a strong word, it is even harder to apply to our lives sometimes. Being patient not only with people, but with our circumstances. Sometimes things that we don't like happens, and we don't even understand why because we thought that we did everything right, but everything happens for a reason, it's like a fruit, you could take it out of the tree earlier because you're hungry, but it isn't that mature and tasty, but if you just wait, resist the hunger, the fruit will be way better. That applies to money, emotional growth and life changes. Learn to understand that sometimes, pain will be the sign to something better than your current situation.

5. Stop following the crowd ✦

Set standards and learn what is good for you, if you just rely on others to decide what is best for you, or even worse; you know something is bad for you and still do it for others, then expect low quality experiences. People time to time will call you boring or even extreme just because you decide to be loyal to your values. If something that everyone is doing seems beneficial, do it, but because it gives you something valuable, not because of the crowd. You can apply this rule to everything; friends, money, and other experiences. The amount ot peace and comfort that you can get with this transformation is a huge life upgrade.

This were some topics that come to mind when the "high value" term is mentioned. And remember, no one is perfect and every little thing makes us unique. Life is a long journey that you can decide to upgrade with every little move.

Hope u enjoyed! ♡

[starlight-tav]

Loving Astarion, for me, is an act of self-compassion. Maybe it's different for others who play BG3, but every time I have built a relationship with Astarion, it has been both intentional and a challenge. I've had to commit to loving him, to learning him, to balancing what is good for me with what is good for him.

Astarion is desperately hungry for safety. But he doesn't know what safety looks and feels like; it's an unfamiliar animal that seems hostile to him. If you are set on goodness for your playthrough, you have to be creative and sometimes underhanded in your efforts to be kind and merciful. Otherwise, he'll never trust you.

It is a commitment to figure out all of the ways that you can create safety and show him kindness in ways that he'll accept. I'm struggling to phrase it correctly, but it's so, so important to me that the more he trusts you, the harder it should be to love him, because that's when you learn about the harm he's caused and how little remorse he has for it. But instead, it gets easier to love him. You no longer need to disguise your kindness around him.

What's more, he no longer disguises his--at least, not as often. He even shows a bit of mercy.

If you choose to persuade him not to ascend, he thanks you for it. Not because you saved him, but because you were his mirror, showing him that he was always more than what his abuser made him. Even knowing he's done horrible things, you love him.

That's something that I desperately needed to see, to experience. Loving him through his pain and hunger and villainy helped me accept those parts of myself as well.

I'm so grateful to Larian and Neil Newbon for this character. He can be a real pain in the ass at times. But he's worth the effort. I love building a relationship with him and watching him learn who he is and who he can be. Is it a perfect experience? No. But I'm so thankful for it.

I don't know why, but I feel the need to apologize for the ramble. I'm sitting at work and just thinking about Astarion. I'm not doing all that well in my head recently, but I'm clinging to the things that matter to me. Anyway, you can ignore me.

[marypaol]

Behind Closed Doors

Draco x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Secret relationship, anxiety, struggles eating, I think that’s it :)

Summary: Reader is friends with the Golden Trio as well as in the same House as them, but is dating Draco in secret.

Note: Dedicated to @miniy00ng1 for requesting! I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

___

It was mealtime, the whole Hall filled with students in different colored robes, banners hung up about the upcoming Quidditch game. The whole place seemed to be buzzing with excitement, every face having a smile as all stomachs were fulfilled. But the girl at the maroon themed table thought otherwise. Eating seemed like the last appealing thing in existence sat the moment. In fact, the gold plate in front of her seemed to be blinding, its reflective surface painful to the eye. She leaned back in her chair, ceasing the sting as she continued to push around food on her plate; she didn’t feel like eating at the moment. Not that she wasn’t hungry, she was ever since Snape opened his mouth in Potions, but now as she sat in the Great Hall, other plates of students piled with delicious food, eating felt sickening. Something was stopping her from doing so, a feeling nagging at her stomach trying to eat her alive until all she could feel was whatever this was. The feeling was sickening as well and all she felt like doing was falling face first on her bed.

“Something the matter?”

She flinched softly, fork slipping easily from her hand to the floor, a loud clacking sound as a few students looked over. Her heart pounded slightly from the unexpected voice but she quickly composed herself, fixing her hair and facing her friends. Hermonie was the one who spoke, eyes filled with concern as their eyes met each other’s.

The girl nodded and swallowed thickly, trying to get rid of the feeling inside her but unsuccessfully doing so.

“Y-“ she cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m doing well.”

Hermonie glanced at the red head next to her for some sort of we’re-going-to-talk-about-this-later look but he didn’t seem to be paying any attention, too busy talking to Harry about their plan to punch Malfoy in the nose.

The intelligent girl sighed, glancing back at her friend.

“Oh if you’re certain.”

The girl suddenly felt it coming up her throat, the secret she held in for months bottled up inside her, only for her to loose her ability to speak, voice stuck in her stomach. The feeling was thick as it settled there, daring her to spill what was going on behind her friends’ backs.

“I’m certain.” She managed out, voice cracking sharply before she cleared her throat.

Hermonie gave her a concerned look before turning her attention back to the book she had provided herself. That was after she snuck another look.

The girl herself was relieved her friend didn’t push further, or she would have almost told her what was really going on. You see, the feeling nagging at her wasn’t hunger, as she was trying to convince herself, but rather anxiety. She knew something they didn’t, and as each day went on she felt worse and worse about it. If there was one thing she didn’t like it was keeping secrets from her friends. She liked expressing her feelings with them because they would show their support as kindness; both something she personally didn’t experience as often as she desired. But this wasn’t a little thing that happened in class that she was worried about, it was big. And she was supposed to keep it a secret?

The nagging feeling grew despite her mental pleads, but she tried to ignore it as she again tried to eat, but once again failing to do so.

~~

The soft sheets surrounded her later that evening, emerald bed frames not quite fitting in with her maroon robes. Pale fingers were in her hair, stroking the stress from that day away with his touch. His lips pressed against her head briefly before he spoke. “You okay, love?” He whispered against her hair, voice almost muted but she hears him perfectly.

She nodded against his chest, his scent seeming to get stronger in her scenes just from doing so. Draco sighed very softly.

“I know something’s wrong.” He stated, letting his words float in the air for a little so she would reconsider telling him. It was her turn to sigh, this time it was in defeat since she knew she had to tell him eventually.

“I feel bad.” She explained hesitantly. She could almost sense Draco’s confusion so she spoke again, this time getting up a little and looking into his eyes. The silver drowned her, surrounding her in concern. Her heart stuttered at the sight.

She reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it softly.

“I mean, we can’t keep it a secret forever. They’re gonna find out sooner or later.” She explained. She felt him tense beneath her, hand squeezing hers right back.

“Look, loves, I know you feel bad for not telling them, and that’s okay, it’s normal, but they’ll judge us. You know that.” He said this calmly and gently, stroking her hand with his thumb while his other hand went through her hair.

She nodded, deciding to let the stress go and focus on the moment hand. She had someone that understood her, cared for her, loved her, and she was thinking about what others thought?

“What are you thinking about?” Draco asked her, taking notice on how she was looking out the window in deep thought, hand pausing on her head. She smiled into his robes, rubbing her cheek on it comfortably. She finally felt like the anxiety disappeared and she couldn’t see a time where it would come back again.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly, loves.”

“You.”

Thank you again for requesting! You’re appreciated! 🫶🏻

[thesharktanksdriver]

Determination!: The all blue night (platonic)

Masterlist for the series.

I put in Zeff’s manga reasoning for loosing a leg this one cause it makes more sense and is much more impactful in my opinion. Like I get they didn’t want to put in he ate his own leg to survive because it’s super dark but I digress. Sorry for the slow rate I’m writing stuff school has been taking a big toll on me inspiration wise and kinda mentally too lol

tag list : @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea @angstylittleb1tch @badluckinfrench @emmbny @kenkenmaaa @yunho-leeknow @chibiduck @spqce-bun @coca-cola-fiend @Koifishpoond @eyes-ofhell @imaginarydreams @ghostdoodlen

At some point in a long while hunger becomes or less like second nature

You knew the feeling intimately

It starts as a burning pit that consumes your entire stomach

Eating through stomach lining as acid boils over and spills into the rest of you

It travels and burns

Eating you away as hands scrape against the midriff to try and alleviate the ache

The pain

The want

The need

The agony

But eventually the pain becomes background noise

As does all pain after so long

You’d died so many times in so many different ways and yet starvation is one thing that is familiar to you

And like how death is your friend whom you see oh so often

So is hunger

Nights spent alone clutching a completely empty stomach

The pain becoming almost a comforting sensation in its familiarity

At some point you’d just accepted that your stay hungry

That even when dying over and over again and occasionally treating yourself to a meal you’d stay hungry

Because even when you ate it was never enough

Stomach still aching and swirling in its emptiness and collapsing in on itself

At some point a long time ago you used to go to bed with a full stomach and now each night your rocked to sleep by the pain of an empty one

Things used to be different

And you can’t remember what that was like anymore

So you just accepted as it was

And so you accepted you’d be forever hungry

Ending up a cruise ship wasn’t your intention but just as most things that happen to you it quickly becomes a new experience

And as always you go with the flow of things

Ending up on the cruise wasn’t planned

Nor was ending up somehow being found by a young chef boy who helped cover for you

But as always fate seemed to have different plans

And you just rolled with it

The boy’s name was Sanji, he was 10 and helped you hide in the storage area of the cruise

At night he’d sneak you out

With hands much like your own, scarred yet retaining a soft and caring quality he’d guide you through the halls

Past the creaky floorboards he knew by heart after 2 years of apparently living on this ship

Through the elegant dining rooms that housed grand chandeliers and checkerboard floors

Beneath the white table cloths of spotless tables he and you sit

Quietly looking at recipe books together or sharing stories between the two of you

Sanji was apparently from the north blue originally, but found himself on the cruise that now housed him called the orbit

The chefs found him one night

Scared and alone pillaging the kitchen

They took pity on him, partially out of genuine concern and intrigue at seeing the spark of talent in him

And since then he’s been cooking and calling this place “home”

Though that was a vague term

Much like yourself Sanji had ambitions beyond this small boat cruising the sea

He wanted to find something

Wanted to be something beyond an errand boy

Wanted to cook for anyone who’d have his food

To ensure they didn’t go to bed hungry

The way he describes it to you under a table in candlelight resounds something in you

Especially since he then takes your hands, promising he’d ensure you’d be full

That you’ll have the best food he can provide

All for you

Someone who’s still a stranger to him

A stowaway on a cruise meant for upper crust but not quite celestial dragons (yet they both act the same either way)

And he still promises he’d do everything in his power to make you content

He cooks for you as if you were someone important and not a stowaway

You nod along not having the will to tell him he’d never be able to do that

Not when you can’t remember what being full felt like anyways

And so you lie and say your full after you finish a plate even if your still staving

His blinding smile is able to make you feel the pain momentarily go away anyways

Sanji tells you one night of a place called “the all blue”

Supposedly it was the place that connected the north, south, east, and west together

Creating a sea where creatures from all four seas could coexist together

It was a chef and fisherman’s dream

But it was just that

A dream

Unattainable and imaginary

Or…at least that’s what everybody else thought

But not Sanji

And certainly not you

He speaks so hopeful about his dream

Of finding the all blue

Of proving everyone wrong

Of making his dream come true

He has the spark to do it

You can tell by his eyes alone

Sapphire hued just like the waves of the ocean he seeks

Similarly he sees a spark in your eyes as well

Almost seeming to Glow in hazy candlelight

And as you say you believe in him

In his dream

Believed in him when no one else did

Well, who’s to say he couldn’t become more motivated

Especially when your eyes shine like stars above the sea

And when in the candlelight highlighted by luminous stars hidden in irises he asks you about your dream

And in a haze of memory and emotion you tell him a story

One you cannot remember now but he holds dear in his heart

The story of wanting

The story loss

The story of loneliness

The story of a family torn apart

And the story of a devil fruit

By the end of it all you and Sanji sit in a darkened kitchen

Two stowaways on the same ship (though one is welcomed and the other is a mystery)

Both connected through the spark of a dream to sail the seas

One’s purpose clear while the other is hazed

But either which way the two talk in an empty kitchen and eat

Unknowingly both know what it feels like to starve

And both know loss

The two of you make a pinky promise, when he finds the all blue you’ll be the first to have one of his meals and you promise you’ll always be his friend

The raid of the orbit comes out of nowhere and somehow predictable at the same time

You’d come to know that your luck was something that ran out quite fast

And unfortunately you were no stranger to things such as this

But typically when a ship went down you were on the deck

Now instead you were in the storage

Stood atop boxes that were quickly being eaten up by cold unforgiving water

Yelling and screams echoes down quickly flooding halls

Waves crashing so Harshly against the ship that it begins to crack the wood, doesn’t help that the invading ship is bumping into it either

Confusion spreading through you like wildfire as the water continues to raise higher and higher

If you were anyone else you’d be scared of dying to such a fate

But your not

Your more worried about Sanji as you trudge through the wading waves

Feet becoming heavier and heavier with each step you take

Feeling as if concrete was slowly forming shoes over your boots or chains manifesting from the cold water that sucks warmth from you

By now it’s just above your waist and the effects of it really begin to hit you

Soon enough you’d be immobile

Unable to move and frozen like a Statue for the waves that’ll sink you with it

If you didn’t die from the cold first but you doubted that

With how the steadily rising of it your definitely drowning before hypothermia or shock

Though at this point even the pain of choking on salt water, it quickly filling your lungs for the burn of air loss to help fill the liquid

But then you hear sloshing through the blaring of your ears

And your name

It echoes and for a moment you need a moment to realize what was said or who even called out

But then it hits you

Sanji

He came back for you

Came back knowing you’d be in danger

Came back knowing you were in an area with water

Came back knowing you’d be eaten up by the waves if he didn’t

Came back because he knew knew you ate a devil fruit

Shaking cold hands grab your own and he drags you with him

But at the point in which the water gets to the point of immobilizing you he decides to pick you up instead

Placing you on his back as he drags both himself and you through flooding halls

Water splashes

Yelling continues

Sanji’s rapidly thumbing heart echoes through your ribcage as you helplessly lay your head on his shoulder

He should’ve left you there to save himself

You say so to his face

But despite that he yells at you for being an idiot

About how in the hell you expected him to leave you there to die

Not when he promised he’d cook you the first meal he’d make when he found the all blue

Not when you were the only one who enjoyed his cooking

Through the chaos you and him stumble out into the deck

The boat rocking violently as rain and sea water pelts down on you like hail

Your still weak because of this, the water soaking you to the bone

But thoroughly out of being submerged you slink off of Sanji’s back

But he holds your hand

It shakes in your grip

He’s scared and you can’t blame him

Swords clash all around the two of you, and somehow both of you weave through the carnage

For reasons you don’t like to think about he seemed used to fighting just as you were

But unlike you who content in laying down and dying he fights

Sanji will die clawing to survive

It’s why he picks up a sword

Why he points it at a pirate despite the fact he won’t win

Why he pushes you behind him even if your stronger and older than him

Because Sanji cares

And that’s something very rare now in the world

Even when the captain of the crew comes up to the two of you Sanji doesn’t back down

He proudly declares his dream

To find the all blue

And within that captains eyes you see it

That same spark, that same dream, that same determination

Though it’s dying and faded it for a moment lights up once more

You see it before being engulfed by water and grasp for it

You, Sanji and the pirate known as Zeff end up on a barren rock in the middle of the ocean

No grass nor trees

Just a jutting stone too far up from the water to safely jump in from or fish

Stuck after the captain with dimming eyes saved both you and Sanji after a colossal wave swept the two of you off ship

In the water despite your attempts in making Sanji let you go he didn’t

His grip had held stead-strong as he kept trying to pull you up with him

Unable to even as air escaped his lungs

But Zeff intervened

And the three of you were alive for now

But you could hardly call this living

You sit with Sanji looking out towards the sea, hoping for a ship to cross by

The food given by Zeff won’t last long to feed either of you past a few days, you know that

Even if Sanji does his best to ration it between the two of you

You know one of you won’t survive

And you know you won’t let it be him

Starvation is not a new go around for you

It’s probably your most common death besides dehydration, drowning or hypothermia

But it’s not a fun way to go even if the pain of a empty stomach became commonplace for you

You can’t let Sanji die that way

Not before finding the all blue

So when he’s not looking you hid the food he gives you

Hiding each piece and scrap of moldy bread

Keeping it from his sapphire eyes that become more and more sunken like your own

Keeping the fact how much pain your in from him

You distract from it all by telling him more stories

Of singing songs even if your throat feels like sand paper is scraping against it with each word

Each syllable

Each hum

But you don’t care

Not when you see his eyes reignite with hope

Not when his sullen face pulls up into a smile when you tell him of when you learned piano from a crew who befriended a whale

Not when they sparkle with curiosity when hearing of a land atop the clouds with white winged people

Not when you see the slightest bit of ease when you tell him of the constellations

Pointing to the stars and explaining their meaning

Telling him how no one was ever truly alone when the stars hung and watched

That’s what’s you had told yourself after so many weeks alone drifting

That the stars were watching

That you weren’t alone as you clutched Roger’s coat closer

Everyone was made of stardust and in the end that’s where they returned when they died

You weren’t alone, not with the stars watching over you

Not when Roger was watching over you

As you lay awake while Sanji clings to you for warmth you pull the coat closer around the two of you

One night as Sanji slept you snuck to the other side of the island

Zeff doesn’t face you, but the smell of iron lingers in a scent as familiar as the sea to you

Blood

It stains the ground and air in its presence

It’s familiar to you though, even if that’s a sad fact to admit

Sitting down next to the old captain you look to the night sky

Your oldest friend of them all

Bleak and empty with the stars being the only boots of light penetrating the deep darkness

Dead stars continuing to shine even after being extinguished, their light still traveling eons away to hit your eyes in their gentle glow amidst the sorrow and joy of life

His hand trumps your shoulder as you sit next to him, he can probably feel the bone beneath now paper thing flesh

Fat being eaten away by your body to try and survive

Leaving you a shell of yourself even moreso than him or Sanji

He can tell, and despite not looking in his diminishing eyes you can sense the horror in them

His shaking hand is enough to tell you

But despite it all you smile at him, now looking at the weathered man

Your eyes speak volumes that he can’t decipher in such little amount of time

But even with that he sees the understanding and acceptance of your own fate

And it crushes him

Grinds him down to his very spirit

And Zeff is left speechless as you tend to his tourniquet and stump of a leg

Still bloody and raw

You don’t flinch at the sight at all

If anything you gaze at blood and gore as if it were normal

Examining it as if it were a paper cut before assuring him it’s luckily not infected and that he cut off his blood circulation correctly

How you knew this knowledge was beyond him

And yet you knew it all the same

Humming a soft tune to yourself that he hears softly in the daytime across the little barren rock of an island

It’s raspy and quiet

And at the same time hauntingly loud in his ears

It seems to linger there even as you go back to Sanji

As does the fact you know what your fate is

And that there’s nothing him nor the boy could do for you, your body on the cusp of death that nothing could change that

But all the same you smile and sing in the face of it all

As if awaiting death like an old friend at a bar

Drunk on the remaining days of your life as you sung songs awaiting his arrival

You’ve always known when your time was near, you always seemed to sense it before it had come

Maybe death was a sentient entity and you’d just been able to sense it better as time went on

Or maybe you were just so used to your body shutting down that you’d noticed the signs before it happened

But either which was you knew your time was soon

There was no crying about it

Nor shivers of fear

If anything it felt more like a release and a hopeful occasion

Because you’d be released from the hunger if only to feel your stomach become empty again (but for the moment you wake in that void where you clutch a golden star the pain is gone)

If only to be released from this barren prison and find a way to save Sanji and Zeff

Because if you died you could get them help

That was seemingly the only purpose of your powers anyways

Die

Comeback

Rinse and repeat

You were fine with it though

As long as it meant you were able to help others (even at your own expense)

Every moment drags on

Every twitch of your finger takes so much out of you

Your body not having enough to power it

Despite it though you sit beside Sanji one last time

You sing for him and tell him stories

Tell him of the grand line and its wonders

The new world and its mystery

Trailing off occasionally for a break as everything becomes harder to do

The words seeming to slur and slosh around in your mouth

He can tell something is wrong

By the tears gathering in ocean blue eyes he knows

So he savours what you say

What you tell

What you sing

The words being engraved in his mind as paper thin skeletal hands clutch his own

That night he falls asleep much later than he usually did

He sits staring up to the stars you’d told him of

His grip deathly tight on your hand

Thumb lightly grazing your pulse as if to ensure himself your still there

Still breathing

Still alive

Using your pulse to try and keep himself awake even if it’s wasting precious energy

When he eventually drifts off with tears gathered in his eyes (knowing you’d be deathly still in the morning, cold and stiff and forever asleep) you tell him to find it

The all blue

He dreams of that place when you slip from his grasp

He dreams of the fishes mingling together when you take out the scraps hidden away and placing them in his pile

He dreams of preparing when you hobble over to Zeff

He dreams of cooking when the old man begs you to eat, to be selfish and you reply that you are being selfish. That you want him and Sanji to live for your sake and that was as selfish as it came

He dreams of serving you a dish when the old man can do nothing but hold you close and not want to let go and yet eventually you slip away

He dreams of your reaction as you say to Zeff your gonna go get some rest and promise to get them help with a gentle smile

He dreams of sitting beside you with his feet in the water wadding slowly, the sight of a sunset fading quickly into night

Briefly he jostles momentarily awake when you lay back next to him, smiling and telling him to get some rest

Halfway asleep he nods, partially thinking it was his dream because he’s had no one care for him like this except you (and mom and maybe Reiju)

So of course for the moment in which he’s only partially aware he sees it as a happy dream

You hold him close and he goes back to dreaming

He dreams of you sitting by his mom in that hospital bed, a dish for the two of you in her lap while you fade into the nothingness that is night

When he wakes that morning he wakes up alone and cold

He lays there for several minutes sobbing to himself as he notices the food he rationed out for you a few feet away untouched and moldy

Sanji sobs and his all blue eyes spill with tears

Across the island the old man does the same

Your body is not on the island and unknowingly to them faded to stardust

But both later come to the conclusion that in your last moments you’d decided to take the plunge into the water

To not leave them with a rotting corpse on that barren rock (since despite both of their hunger neither would eat your corpse. Zeff could eat his own leg in desperation but that was his leg, not the dead body of a child)

A reminder of both their failures

One in protecting the two young children he sacrificed his leg for

And the other in promising you’d be the first to taste his dream

Unbeknownst to them across the sea a young child reports to a ship of being a survivor of the orbit

Saying that they saw two others shipwrecked on a rocky island jutting out from the ocean

As a ship is sent off to investigate an odd group of crows end up dropping food on the barren island to Sanji and Zeff’s bitter relief

Two loafs of bread and a canteen of water being able to get them a few more days before rescue

The urge to go see them is there within your heart, but for their sake you decide not to

You’d caused them too much pain in the first place

You don’t want to rub salt in the wound

Plus you’d prefer oregano instead to season yourself

Sanji is a troubled child, he’s self aware to know that about himself

It’s perhaps why everyone hated him

But for some reason you didn’t and surprisingly enough so did Zeff

The two of you handed out kindness to him as if he deserved it

As if he weren’t a failure on so many levels both genetically and emotionally

In a sense he could get why you did it, a kid only maybe a year or two older than him

Someone he viewed as his closest friends despite the relativity of time spent together and as a sibling he wishes he had (the now healed bruises and scars you saw but never pushed to ask about as you helped put salves over the old wounds are evident of that)

Someone who sacrificed themselves for him, for some fucking reason saving your food for him even as you withered away before his eyes

If he had been more watchful he would’ve noticed it, but being half there on that island starved and scared left him more like a shell

Made him ignorant until it was too late

He could accept why you care, but he can’t accept why Zeff cares

Can’t accept why this man, a hardened pirate would give a shit about him

Offer him kindness

Take him in

Mentor him

And eat his own leg to ensure Sanji and you wouldn’t go hungry (partially worked in the end)

Sanjis sometimes gets kindness from women, moms warm hugs are evident in his mind as is the tears from a sister who tells him to go and be free

Sanji’s sometimes kindness from those his age, your the shining example but he can also think of a few guests in the orbit who played games with him in its halls

But most of all Sanji has never experienced kindness from a man

So seeing Zeff go out of his way for him

Seeing how Zeff on the rescue ship doesn’t let anyone hound him for invasive answers and ensures he gets food first

The good food the ship goers give in pity that he scrounges up with a snotty noose and runny eyes, Zeff always lets him eat first before having his own fix

How Zeff rubs his back as the both mourn

It means a lot more than words can say

As does the fact that Zeff on a silent night says he’s going to open a restaurant on the sea

And that he needs staff

A silent invitation that is solidified as Sanji quietly takes his hand with tears in his eyes

If the old man is crying Sanji doesn’t comment

Not even if raindrops fall down from a clear night sky and pelt his dirtied kitchen apron

Not when he’s held close in loving arms

Not when they sit in the deck both brokenly humming the song you’d sing like a broken record

Out of tune and off key

It plays when the two of them cook in the kitchen of the baratie

Sanji always looks to the stars when he takes a smoke break, Zerg occasionally accompanying him on the balcony in a somber silence

And even though Sanji hates wasting food he can’t help but make an extra plate sometimes

Can’t help but subconsciously make more than needed to feed someone not there

Zeff doesn’t comment on it and tells the others to lay off if they ask Sanji about it

He can’t judge when he sometimes does the same

Can’t when he sometimes looks out to sea and hears your humming in the waves

The small song sung by a raspy throat that helped ease hours of the days spent on that barren rock

Days in which he worries of his wound being infected

Days in which he worried for the boy who shared his dream and the child who looked as if they accepted death

And it stays with him

Because Zeff can so clearly see your sunken face when he spots a starved begger on the street

Can so clearly see how you curled up at night trying to keep Sanji warm as skeletal hands clung to you

Can clearly see your eyes when he stares out at night, the full shine of stars that looked so bleak

Can so clearly see you valued the two of them more than yourself no matter how either of them tried to save you

And yet they couldn’t do it

You weren’t here anymore, no body to bury or honour either

Nothing but a barren rock and cold salty water to serve as your grave

The chefs at baratie try to question when one night a year they see Zeff and Sanji leave a full plate of food on the deck

But none of them ever get an answer except it was for someone hungry they couldn’t feed

Patty always tries to chase away the crows that peck at the food but each year they return to eat that plate of food until nothing is left

And oddly enough the murder always seems to leave behind a loaf of bread in the plates place

Years later a cannonball crashes through the baratie

Cracking and breaking timber in of what Sanji calls a home

Besides that and a marine asshole with his beautiful date it’s a mostly normal day

Not the worse he’s experienced

Nor the best

Average would be the best way to put it, the baratie often times seeming more like a fight club rather than a proper cooking establishment

If the smirk wasn’t enough I n the douches face then it was the fact he wasted perfectly good food

The thought sickens him

A sunken starved face stares back at him from the wasted soup

Boney and dead

It leaves him sick to his stomach especially when a starved pirate stumbles through the door

And everything seems to come back to him all at one once

Especially the man’s eyes, they look too much like your own on those last few days on the hellish rock

Soulless and empty

When he places a plate in front of the starved man he doesn’t expect anyone from the dinning room to follow in his example

Not with their cheering of the man being beaten down by patty

But stepping through the side door someone follows

He extinguishes his cigarette and turns around just as he hears the clink of another plate being lowered to the wooden deck

And it’s there that Sanji freezes

Your eyes stare back at him in just as much shock

A cigarette long forgotten falls to the deck and is extinguished when he steps on it

His arms wrap around your own as tears drop freely from his eyes

You hold him the same as you did the last

One hand laced in golden hair while the other pats his back

His knees buckle from the weight of it all

This has to be a dream

He only sees you in dreams or in the faces of the truly hungry

Your sunken starry eyes staring out from others

But your here

And your healthy and safe and alive

And despite the fact he’s confused as all hell

He can’t help but thank whatever god there is out there that your here again

Not just a reflection of a memory

Your here

When you pull away he can’t help but want to pull you back just to ensure you don’t go

To not make the same mistake that Zeff did in letting you go that he still regrets every single day of his life

But as you pull away you don’t do so entirely, you hold both his hands as he kneels to match your level

A confused starved pirate watches confused alongside a boy in a straw hat

“I know you probably have a lot of questions” you say, your hands fidgeting in his with nervousness. You expect him to be mad, to blow up at you and yell at you to leave but he doesn’t, instead you feel his thumb rubbing circles comfortingly on your knuckles. “Think you can get the old man? I think I owe it to you to explain….oh and I’ll pay for the food. I grabbed a random plate on the way here”

[echoes-in-the-multiverse]

Food for Fangs: Unmasking Vampire Parts.

Personal and Educational Post.

Written by Blade.

The way dissociative identities present as individual parts reflects how trauma has affected the brain. Their traits stem from what was needed to protect against trauma or overcome stress. These traits or ways of perceiving the world may be disguised or interpreted by the brain in the presentation of different types of alters. This allows the individual to remain unaware of their trauma, as the brain may create a narrative that feels understandable and logical, reducing the likelihood of questioning these details. It may be the way the individual's brain allows itself to feel things the host personality was not allowed to during abuse. 

However, there are many misconceptions about the way parts present in Dissociative Identity disorder. This series will cover non-human parts. This part 1 post is about Vampires, written by Blade, a vampire alter. This post will also primarily only cover parts when in executive control, as we feel discussing internal worlds is a different section more suited for the post of their own.

"Can vampire alters consume human food?" 

This question often arises due to the misconception that vampire alters truly believe they are vampires trapped in a human body. However, this is not the case. While an alter may present as a vampire, they are still aware of their human biology. If an alter is unable to understand or realise their role within the system fully, it could result from high levels of dissociation, such as derealisation and depersonalisation. It is crucial to address and work through these issues, as allowing a trauma-based reaction to persist outside of the traumatic experience can be harmful. 

Do they eat human food?

Depending on the role an alter has within the system, they may be required to consume food if they take executive control for an extended period. However, there may be trauma associated with food, and this discomfort may manifest through the vampire alter. Some may have the role of holding these feelings to prevent others from experiencing them, as it may cause less distress for them as a vampire who does not have an innate connection to the concept of consuming food. This is what my part did, I was disgusted at the idea of food and I only began to feel normal hunger after some therapy focused on my individual. This was also not questioned by other members of the system because it felt normal that a vampire would not want to eat human food or find it repulsive. 

But aren’t Vampires always hungry?

Although not all vampire alters are hungry all the time, this could be another trait of protection that is allowed through a vampire part. As discussed by Howell EF (2011) in “Understanding and Treating Dissociative Identity Disorder”, a non-human part may form a protective state that is allowed to express an emotion or feeling that the host part is unable to. Expressing hunger or being allowed to feel hungry may be something that the individual was not allowed to do so the brain displaced that feeling onto a part suited for that position of dealing with that pain, or the child/adult experiencing more trauma related that feeling as being like a vampire.

“Vampire Alters crave blood”

This relates to the point I made earlier: vampire alters are not actual vampires from mythology, so they do not crave blood. However, there may be aspects of their role that give the impression they crave blood. This could include being around procedures involving blood, being around mentions of blood, or being tasked with clearing a wound if it occurs. In the mind of a child or an adult experiencing additional trauma, a vampire would be the most suitable alter for this role, as they would naturally be comfortable around blood. However, to a part that is unaware of this trauma, or even to the vampire alter themselves, they may feel them being around as an impression that they crave blood like in myths. A vampire alter may also be assumed to crave blood if they happen to also be a persecutor who causes physical harm that results in blood.

 A person's craving to drink blood, known as Clinical Vampirism, is a rare condition that has been documented through case studies. However, it is often associated with a delusion or as part of mental health conditions such as schizophrenia. But, there was a case study on a man who suffered from vampirism and was later diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). His violent tendencies, stemming from his vampirism, manifested through his other identity, leading outsiders to believe that his dissociative identity was a real vampire as an alter. This perpetuates the misconception that vampire alters are always like their mythical counterparts. However, the introduction of the case report clearly states that there is no established link between vampirism and DID, and they should be treated as separate conditions. This case study serves to show that vampirism is possible in patients with DID even if DID did not cause the vampirism. We have included the case study in our bibliography to provide sources, but we must issue a trigger warning for extreme violence, SH, su*cide, and trauma of all ages. Additionally, the use of the r slur in the introduction should be noted as it may be offensive and we do not agree with the use of the word. We will have linked more reading on the topic including other case studies of people with schizophrenia and one study that talks about the different levels/types of vampirism documented. All the same trigger warnings apply.

Although vampires do not have an inherent desire to drink blood, some may find comfort in consuming red foods. This may serve as a way for their brain to establish safe foods and comfort through this alter without it seeming out of place or may have been the brain thinking the only way the individual would be able to consume these foods was if they were a vampire and hence the trait is given to the vampire alter. In my own recovery, addressing my relationship with food was important. I eventually discovered that my comfort food was tomatoes, and I found it easier to consume foods like Gazpacho, which is in liquid form. This allowed me to find comfort in eating while also embracing my vampire identity because it felt like a natural progression towards something more positive, as it also involved addressing past trauma but brought comfort too in being a non-human part.

This post serves as an important reminder that DID is a trauma disorder so everything about an individual will be shaped by trauma. It is not a fantasy or roleplay in which dissociative identities are made or exist by.

Bibliography

Howell EF. Understanding and Treating Dissociative Identity Disorder. Routledge; 2011.

Sakarya D, Gunes C, Ozturk E, Sar V. ‘Vampirism’ in a Case of Dissociative Identity Disorder and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Psychotherapy and Psychosomatics. 2012;81(5):322-323. doi:https://doi.org/10.1159/000335930

O’Brien C, Hallahan B. Delusions of Vampirism in an Adolescent and Treatment with Clozapine: a Case Report. Cureus. Published online October 2, 2023. doi:https://doi.org/10.7759/cureus.46352

Halevy A, Levi Y, Shnaker A, Orda R. Auto-vampirism--an Unusual Cause of anaemia. Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine. 1989;82(10):630-631. Accessed July 25, 2024. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1292349/?page=2

Hervey WM, Catalano G, Catalano MC. Vampiristic Behaviors in a Patient with Traumatic Brain Injury Induced Disinhibition. World Journal of Clinical Cases. 2016;4(6):138. doi:https://doi.org/10.12998/wjcc.v4.i6.138

References 3-5 are the extra case studies referenced in the post.

Written by Blade.

This is a personal and educational post.

[loonybun]

hi guys here’s the cannibalism drabble as promised. i want you all to keep in mind i started this around 1 AM and finished around 3 AM and that is abundantly clear because it may seem less coherent the further it goes. which might add to it idk. also this entire thing is unedited so i’m slapping it at you like a wet fish

this isn’t canon, its for a specific au of mine called stainedrose :)

CONTAINS: cannibalism (a LOT of cannibalism), consumption of raw meat, disease mention, consumption of the brain, splitting someone’s skull open, past beheading mention, extreme gore all around, vivid descriptions of gore and violence, also the head is what’s eaten, very vague references to past trauma, implied conditioning, experimentation, dehumanization, sort of cult-like setting but also not really, unaware whumpee, parental figure whumper (not that obvious in this specific drabble but yeah. whumpee is an adult though), scientist whumper, carewhumper, test subject whumpee, inhuman whumpee, starvation, loss of autonomy, captivity, sleep deprivation, medical inaccuracies (i did research but never enough)

yeah it’s a doozy. enjoy!

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt hungry. Being starved for years had that effect. After a while, the feeling just faded away. It was as if he realized that he didn’t need such things. He was better than that, he wasn’t like these people. That’s what his superior always said, anyways. The boy had yet to internalize it, but at least the smaller sensations had faded entirely. Pain, fatigue, hunger, they seemed more like suggestions than experiences. The more he told himself that, the less they seemed to affect him.

When his superior entered the room one morning, carrying the newly severed head of an ordinary-looking brunette man, he was initially confused. His superior tossed it over to him, and it landed on the concrete floor with a hollow thud. The viscous liquid still flowed from where it had been lopped off, leaking onto the textured gray floor. He couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the smell. It reminded him of worse times— It reminded him to be grateful. He was being treated exceptionally well, considering his previous situation. He could bear the smell, and he could bear the way the cloudy brown eyes settled loosely on him.

He looked back to his superior, who nodded towards the head with a subtle smile. Hesitantly, the boy approached it, observing the finer details he hadn’t noticed before. It had been a clean cut, as the queen’s often were, and he could only assume that the man had died directly on contact. It was a merciful death. Quick and nearly painless. His superior stood in the doorway, removing his bloodied gloves and inverting them, before sticking them into his coat pocket. This wasn’t an ordinary gift. He’d been given knickknacks every so often, little bottles of fluid or clothes or trinkets. This was a test. Another test.

“…What is this?” He spoke at last, hoping for some sort of direction. He felt relieved when he watched the man’s face soften ever-so-slightly. He’d been right to ask. He waited for his superior’s instructions, or at the very least an explanation.

“Supper. You haven’t been eating much, and while I’m pleased with your results so far, I’d like to see how well you readjust. It’s also a test of your immune system. It’s an incredible testament to our work so far, and I’d love to see it in action.” He explained casually, a neutral smile upon his face. “All you need to do is enjoy your meal. I won’t mind the mess.”

The boy pushed any questions to the back of his mind. He’d gotten an answer, and he should focus on the task at hand rather than ruminate on specifics. If he performed well, everything would make sense sooner or later. His superior was a logical and kind man, and there was no reason for him to act off of a whim instead of necessity. Perhaps this was some sort of poison resistance test? He vaguely recalled something from his past life— the one he’d left far, far behind— something about prions infecting the brain. But of course, he wouldn’t be affected. His brain would obviously cancel the production of unnecessary proteins to prevent them from forming in the first place. That’s how that worked. That’s how it always worked. He just had to keep that in mind.

Without further hesitation, he sunk his teeth into the cheek of the head, holding it as you would a lover. The skin was warmer than he expected. Still fresh. He relished the sound that came as he tore off the chunk of flesh, and the flavor that bloomed in his mouth as the blood seeped from the wound. No meal he’d ever had before could begin to compare to the taste. Something more primal than hunger overtook him— the need to indulge. Engorge. Consume. He plucked the softer pieces of skin from the face and neck, gently tracing his lips against the skin as he sucked the blood and gore from the open wounds. The way the muscles actively began to tense with the more time he spent with it made it seem almost alive. Two interconnected beings becoming one. This soul had died alone and without struggle. The fight was over and lost. Neither of them had to be alone now. Whoever the person had been before death hardly mattered to him. That’s the beautiful thing about death. There’s no judgment in death.

Rigor mortis made the muscle and fat easier to bite into, though harder to chew. The texture was different now, more waxy. He’d worked away at most of the meat now, save for the scalp and area around the orifices of the face and the eyes. The exposed bone and viscera on the rest of the face was a sight to behold, saved from the possibility of rot. This body, or at least the head, would never know imperfection. It would be made useful, as all things should be.

He bit through the lower lip, easily pulling it away from the bone with his fingers and placing it into his mouth. Next came the upper— and then the nose, which was admittedly a lot more awkward to remove with how stiffly it clung to the bone beneath it. By the time he’d gotten to the eyes, he had already planned how to go about excavating them. The boy peeled the eyelids and swallowed them down, before placing his fingers between the space where the eye nestled into the skull. He didn’t need to apply much pressure before they came free with a squelching pop. He ate them one at a time, pressing them between his teeth until they burst. They tasted meaty, but not in the same way that the rest of the body had. The taste was a bit odd, even for him, though he downed them without complaint.

The gorey sockets stared back at him, the face now devoid of anything that resembled life. Hair still clung to the top like a matted mop, now tangled in blood and messy scraps where he had been less neat. The tendons that kept the bones together remained untouched. He’d been gentle with the process. As gentle as he could have been. He could have easily ripped the jaw from its hinge in order to get to the last bits of gore he’d missed, but he wasn’t a barbarian. He didn’t feel like his superior would approve of him disassembling the entire thing. It would make it so much harder to clean.

He turned back to his superior, who was observing his bloodied face with his typical soft smile. He wasn’t allowed to stop yet. The man motioned for him to continue, and the only thing he could do was comply.

The boy tore off the epidermis and hair, dropping it to the floor. The cranium was wet with blood and fluid, and he silently questioned how he could even go about breaking the thing. After a bit of contemplation, he bashed it against the concrete floor, watching the bone splinter and crack. The noise rippled throughout the room, and while he didn’t see it, he could feel his instructor flinch for the first time. He threw it down again, this time with more force. The back of the skull split, and he was able to pry his fingernails through a fracture. He chipped away at the skull until half of the brain was exposed. The squishy wet folds gave way as his hand slipped through them, before gripping onto a slippery blob. It came apart in his fingers, so he grabbed at more until he had a sensible handful. The brain was so soft he hardly even needed to chew. It was almost buttery in texture, and tasted nothing like the rest of the body. It didn’t have as strong of a taste as the rest of the body, being almost pure fat, but he persisted regardless. It’s what his superior wanted from him, and he’d be a fool to decline generosity when it was handed to him so kindly. The blood that mingled on his fingers at least added a bit more of a flavor, though it was diluted from whatever fluids the brain was already saturated in. He eventually decided to try a different approach, moving his hands to cup the skull like a bowl. The partially eaten brain sloshed around in its confinement. He put his mouth to the jagged edge and attempted to eat it like a soup. The mounds of pink brain matter that still remained were quickly devoured, leaving nothing but a hollow shell stripped of everything it could possibly be stripped of.

He stared over at his superior with a sheepish smile. The man nodded and stared at the fragments of skull and viscera on the floor. “Well, that was a spectacle. You did well. We’ll continue as usual, though you may have the rest of the day to yourself assuming you’ve finished your affirmations. Don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ll send someone in.” He walked over to the disfigured skull and plucked it from the boy’s hands, before patting him on the back. “You’ve done so well today. I hope you keep up the good work.”

[bg3fandomcritical-active]

The “evil” ending for an “evil” character is the good ending for that character. All the facts in the game say so. Spawn's ending is terrible: Astarion is abruptly and painfully deceived, and rejected. He doesn't expect at first what happens, he's been walking in the sun before, and probably deep down he desperately hoped things would stay the same. And he burns and runs away while the others rejoice in their victory, including Tav, and while they celebrate, Astarion sits somewhere behind the crates at the dock, curled up in a lump, slowly healing his wounds. Not only that - hunger will haunt him forever. Dulled senses and feelings - a vampire spawn has dulled senses. For example, he will no longer be able to savor the taste of food, wine (as AA does in his happy epilogue). The undead odor that will now exude from his body has returned. The sun that Astarion loved so much, and which is now killing him, is in many ways also a symbol of how the “bright world” rejects Astarion as something “foreign”. This bright, joyful, sunny, and light world in which there is no place for the likes of Astarion. Sure, a player can be on the side of the “bright world”, and everyone has their own beliefs, morals, etc., that's understandable. But it's unlikely that Astarion wants to accept that he has to retreat into darkness. And whatever the “artistic intent” may be, on the facts, it looks the way it looks in the game. And on the facts, a good ending for Astarion is the Ascension. The fact that he is no longer hungry or in need of a tadpole is far more important to me (and consequently to my Tav) than the fact that Astarion has decided to call me a pet (oops, trouble!). When on the one hand - “ spawn forever”, hunger, burning, vulnerability, depression and so on, and on the other “scarecrows” with “relationship inequality”, especially since all this “inequality” before the advent of kissing patch 6, consisted in the opportunity to admire playful Astarion, who demonstrated deep, strong affection and love. Abusing someone who genuinely loves, understands and supports him ( like in patch 6) is of course his story as written. Extremely poorly written, in that case. In all my life and all my gaming experience, I've never encountered worse writing, alas. At least now that it's fixed I can think of when he says "I'm always watching" and how it shows his love, the attention he gives to Tav. Even when socializing with other companions, you can think of Astarion watching, meaning he's still around, and rejoice in that. The adorable bat that often stops its flight near Tav is also very cute, and sort of hints at the possibility of being together, even while doing different things. For many of us, “flags” are of the Ascended Astarion are quite green, and some may even be gold. And speaking of emotional abuse, there are quite a few very, very “red” flags in Tav's behavior towards Spawn:

1. Manipulation. Tav manipulates Astarion into giving up what he really wants - the healing that the ritual will give him. If you fail the Persuasion check for this manipulation, Astarion will say how he feels about it, and how he “wants” the kind of fate Tav wishes for him.

2. Astarion suffers a lot in the scene of abandoning the ritual. It's a very heavy scene that just can't be watched without tears. Astarion cries if he doesn't ascend because he will be hit not only with the pain and grief of what has been taken from him, but also with the realization that nothing can be taken back. From the realization of the future that awaits him. Tav doesn't care. No reaction to it.

3. Tav specifically doesn't care about the state of Astarion at all. Not a single attempt to find not that healing, even at least some artifact to protect him from the sun. Tav is quietly going about his other, “more important” business and having fun.

4. Tav's behavior in the graveyard seems somehow not particularly empathic, despite what Astarion tells them. Well, that's okay, we also have terrible post-Ascension dialog where I have to exclusively “want to become a vampire” because otherwise I have to “want his body” and spit on all of Astarion's past traumas.

5. The scene at the docks is the apotheosis and culmination of the embodiment of the worst partner behavior example in the relationship. Tav doesn't care about Astarion specifically.

.

[clustercollective]

Things they don’t tell you about food insecurity as a child:

I’m 23 now. I buy my own food. I have food in my kitchen, and I can afford to go out to eat every so often. I have nutritious food, and I do not have any logical reason to worry it won’t be there later.

Yesterday I had a panic attack in the grocery store because I didn’t budget for cat litter. I could afford cat litter, and I need cat litter, but I could not leave the aisle until I put it back on the shelf because what if I can’t afford food now. I will have to make another trip to the store today to buy the cat litter.

I ate lunch earlier today. I ate leftovers, but it was a decent amount. I had chicken and mashed potatoes. By the time I finished eating, I was not hungry anymore. I am still not hungry. I have checked the kitchen 3 times looking for something to eat; not because I am hungry, simply because I need to eat so that when I inevitably run out of food, my body will have fat stores to sustain me.

Whenever I go out to eat, I set aside half of my meal to bring home, so I can guarantee I’ll have food for my next meal. When I get home though, I immediately panic that the leftovers won’t be there and I usually eat them right then, so that I will have fat stores and won’t have wasted food.

I keep a single cup of easy mac in my pantry so that no matter what, I always have food in the house. I keep cokes in my kitchen so that when I inevitably don’t have food, I at least have a sugary drink to lessen hunger pains. I compulsively buy ramen because it is cheap. If I have less than 3 packs of ramen in my house, I buy another box of it so I don’t run out, because it’s cheap and it’s at least filling. It’s not healthy or nutritious, but it’s filling.

I have a panic attack if my total at the grocery store is more than $50. If it is more than $50 I have to do multiple transactions. Because growing up, we never had more than $50 to spend on food. If the grocery bill was more than $50, my mom had to call my dad to ask if we could afford to pull money out of the utilities budget to pay for food.

If any one item in the cart is more than $10, I desperately try to find a cheaper alternative. Yesterday at the grocery store I nearly lost it on my fiance because they picked out a roast that cost $16. I had to walk away and splash water on my face in the bathroom to avoid breaking down in the middle of the meat aisle.

I’ve seen people talk about the physical effects of food insecurity, how it causes similar physical effects as famine. Even if where you live has an abundance of food, if you can’t afford it your body will end up in the same starvation mode that survivors of famine experience. You learn to function with a headache, sleep instead of eat. You get used to ignoring hunger pains, when your stomach growls audibly you blame it on indigestion. An inability to lose weight because your body is desperately holding onto those fat stores.

But I rarely see people talk about the emotional result of food insecurity. So I feel crazy when I start crying in the grocery store because milk went up by 10¢. I feel crazy when I eat nothing but ramen for a week because i had to buy $8 cat litter, and needed to make up for that cost in my savings. I feel crazy when I eat and eat and eat, because what if this is my last chance to eat this week. I feel crazy when I eat nothing but grilled cheese sandwiches for a week before I have friends or family over for a meal, so that I can afford to cook them good food. I feel crazy when I ask my fiance to go to the store so that o don’t have to see the cost of food, and then I feel crazy when I can’t eat because I’m worried if I eat all of their food, they won’t have any for themselves. I feel crazy when I go get fast food or pizza because I can’t make myself cook anything in the kitchen because what if it isn’t there later and I need food for tomorrow. I feel crazy when every time I’m asked where I want to eat I suggest cici’s pizza, because then I can eat enough that it won’t hurt for a couple of days if I don’t get to eat later, and it’s carbs, which is energy that takes a while for your body to process so it’ll be energy for tomorrow. I feel crazy when I shy away from any kind of salad because it just takes up room in your stomach that could be used for something with a higher caloric value.

Food insecurity makes me feel crazy. It isn’t just a physical issue, and it doesn’t go away just because food is more available. Not having access to enough food when I was I child has permanently altered my brain chemistry. It is a trauma. And it is not something I see taken seriously enough.

[queerprayers]

re: fasting

Fasting is a huge part of Lenten tradition and many people's practices, and I wanted to take a minute to address it. This post will address food restriction and eating disorders, so please be aware of your own triggers/comfort levels before reading.

"Without a purpose or plan, it's not Christian fasting; it's just going hungry." (John Piper)

"Prayer is reaching out after the unseen; fasting is letting go of all that is seen and temporal. Fasting helps express, deepen, confirm the resolution that we are ready to sacrifice anything, even ourselves to attain what we seek for the kingdom of God." (Andrew Murray)

I'm not going to include the whole history/theology of fasting. I'd encourage you to do your own research if this is an interesting topic to you! I just wanted to put some general thoughts out there.

Often people focus on food during Lent, for a few reasons. Eating is something we do regularly and it affects every aspect of our lives. We literally can't live without it. The absence of food can remind us of our own mortality, that we are nothing without the things God gives us. Fasting throughout Christian history has been a form of submission and letting go, of experiencing God in our wanting.

Many denominations have communal fasting guidelines, usually regarding what food items to give up for Lent. Christians often stay away from rich/dessert foods at the very least. For many, this is a simple way to mark the season, to save some joy for Easter.

I talked here about the exceptions that exist in fasting guidelines. They exist, and they're very important. I have never had an eating disorder, but the mental health issues I do experience have given me addictive habits and tendencies toward self-neglect. I don't fast beyond giving up a few small treats, and I don't think it would be safe for me to go further. If you're unsure, I'd encourage reaching out to a doctor/therapist or even a family member/friend to discuss what fasting means to you and whether it would be healthy.

I've talked about not giving in to the temptation to punish yourself. We cannot let ourselves believe that pain is the only place where God is, or that God desires our suffering, or that we are closer to God when we deny ourselves. Sometimes it feels that way, but both joy and pain hold God, both scarcity and abundance bring us to God. Feasting and fasting are both ways to experience God.

Lent is when we remember Jesus's forty days in the desert, in which he fasted. Fasting is part of Jewish traditions that he probably participated in, and part of his temptation was going hungry. This is true. For many, feasting is easy and natural, and fasting is vulnerable. This is where they experience God during Lent.

What is also true: God ate, joyfully and often! He miracled more wine at a wedding, he multiplied loaves and fishes, he was only recognized by some of his friends after the resurrection when he sat down for breakfast with them. And above all, he placed at the center of our faith, as one of his final commands, to remember him at the holy table. Of greatest importance was his last supper with his friends, a religious ritual and a communal act of love.

As you navigate your own relationship with food and with God, remember both these truths. And remember, we fast in Lent to feast in Easter. If feasting is what you struggle with, maybe make an Easter practice instead of a Lenten one! Or maybe create a Lenten practice of eating when you're hungry, of finding things you enjoy eating, of eating communally and lovingly.

I believe we should come to Easter hungry, for God and Life. And Lent is a great way to honor that hunger. Some people need that to be physical and literal, but it should be spiritual above all.

You know yourself. God knows you. You don't have to answer to anyone but God, which can be comforting and terrifying--let it be a comfort today. You don't have to explain yourself except to the one who already knows any explanation you could give.

<3 Johanna

[paganwitchisis]

The Unexpected Adventure Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Learning Experience

Word Count: 5,980

Rated: Explicit

RATED 18 PLUS!!!

Chapter 1 - here

Chapter 2 - you're here

Chapter 3 - here

AO3 link - here

Warnings: Smut, Smut and fluff, body swap, brief snippet of violence (fight), unknown pregnacy, protective and soft Astarion, blood (drinking)

WARNING SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER

Once inside, Astarion locked the door, and as different as it was, he leaned forward and kissed Tav who held her stomach and chest like she was injured. “I’m sorry. I know it’s jarring to wake up a corpse with eternal hunger. You're used to warmth and a heart that beats.”

“It’s certainly quite the adjustment. It’s a good thing I know your body so well, honey.” Tav attempted to find humor in the situation. “At least I’m in one handsome body.” Tav smiled awkwardly due to the fangs she was unused to.

“That you are. I didn’t realize how lucky you were until today. Gods, am I hot!” Astarion commented with a chuckle and light humor “But seriously, can I do anything to help, my dear?”

Tav readied herself to speak when the door was softly knocked upon. Scowling in Tav’s body (Which Tav thought gave her a hilarious face), Astarion got up and answered their door.

Surprisingly, it was Gale on the other side of the door.

“Ta…er…I mean Astarion, we may have a lead and we thought it would be best if you both were there.” Gale rationalized while looking away, unwilling to believe the circumstances the party was thrown into. It was no secret the wizard still desired Tav even with the obvious nature of Astarion and Tav’s relationship.

“How did you get a lead so soon? It isn’t like swapping bodies is a normal occurrence.” Astarion asked, annoyed. He’d much rather be attending to Tav than speaking to the wizard.

“Exactly. It isn’t normal, so when we spoke to the innkeeper downstairs, he pointed us towards another wizard in town. Apparently, they are here temporarily. Something about them attending because of another wizard named Lorroakan. You remember, the brat in the tower we killed who was after the Nightsong?”

“Obviously,” Astarion snapped. “So how can a wizard help us?”

“Astarion… It is only a lead. We won’t know much until we go to see them. They’re at the Rainforest Home when they aren’t at Sorcerous Sundries.” Gale informed Astarion who was frustrated until he felt an arm reach around his waist. Thankfully, Tav made noise as she walked, since she had yet to pick up on his stealth abilities, otherwise it would have startled the ex-vampire.

“This is so weird.” Tav commented on her embrace of her own body “Gale, we’d love to come with, but we are still… Acclimating. Give us a few hours, and we’ll join. It is still fairly early in the day, anyways.” Tav said in Astarion’s body. With that, Astarion closed the door on Gale’s face, not bothering to hear a reply.

“You know, we’ve got to work on your people skills.” Tav joked and made her way back to the bed. “I guess we need to get out of our armor, huh? Probably could do with a bath too, to be honest… I mean… Not saying you need it, honey, but… I mean, if you want to get one since it is your body, and…”

“Tav,” Astarion said as he then kissed himself to stop Tav from rambling. He thought it would be more difficult than this to show physical emotion when switching bodies, but it really wasn’t. Both of them were attractive people, in his opinion, and kissing her still felt right. “While we are…like this, my body is now yours, and I trust you with it. We’re both intimately familiar with each other, so it should be fairly easy for us to get used to certain… Aspects of this. Now, with the vampirism, I will need to help you. I’m sure drinking blood may be a little off-putting if we are like this for long, for example. Unfortunately, the pain will stay, and you will be hungry often, if not always. No matter how much blood you drink,… It… Can be a lot.”

“Is this what you normally feel?” Tav asked as she struggled to get his light armor off until Astarion came over and helped her, Tav repaying the kindness by helping him with her own armor on his new body.

“Do I usually feel hungry? My stomach clenching in pain because there is nothing I can eat or drink that can quell it for long? Yeah.” Astarion began to nervously chuckle “It was worse, actually, before the tadpole. The wriggling friend of ours seems to have diluted that, along with my strength, though. Regarding whether or not I feel cold, I grew numb to that about two or three decades in. It takes getting used to.”

Astarion could tell that Tav wasn’t too happy with his reply, but he merely told her the truth. It was nice for once, to not be in pain and to not feel death’s chilled hand upon your throat. Of course, that second part he wouldn’t tell her. He didn’t want her to act out of guilt, and he knew the cogs were working in her… Well, his head, as they spoke.

“Do I always smell so good? And everything is so loud! Is that my heartbeat?” Tav asked as she struggled with the vampiric condition.

Astarion chuckled. “Yeah, you do smell good, but what you’re smelling is blood. It’s going to take some time to get used to, but the enhanced hearing is something you acclimate to. You hear your heartbeat now, but imagine in the companion room. All those hearts, the blood flow, and I mean everything will be able to be picked up. You’ll know when someone is lying or when they are aroused.” Astarion smirked at the shocked expression Tav responded with.

“How do you do it?”

“Darling, I had two hundred years to get that under control. Don’t expect to be in control of the vampirism in a matter of hours.” Astarion hated that he had to have this conversation with Tav. He hated his condition was causing her pain or grief. He hated that she now knew the full extent of his plight and he worried that could change the dynamic of their relationship.

No.

Not Tav. Never Tav. She would always love and trust him no matter how insane the reason. That was one of the many reasons Astarion fell so completely for her.

“Astarion? You there?” Tav gently prodded with a hand on her body’s cheek. Touch usually guided him back if done the right way, Tav had learned early on. A hug or a gentle touch to a safer area usually helped him focus on the present.  

“Huh?… Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, dear, daydreaming for a moment.” Astarion wasn’t ready to show more of his vulnerability at the moment. Instead, he took her lips, or rather kissed his own, and tenderly pressed against her. Astarion had to pull away, considering they only had a few hours to get used to themselves before being thrown into another mission.

“Daydreaming? What about? This must be different for you, too.” Tav asked out of curiosity. 

 Astarion didn’t have to think long before he came up with a half-truth. He was always curious, and now he could finally act on it.

“Food. Gods, what I wouldn’t give for some strawberries.”

Tav smiled and took Astarion’s hand after grabbing Astarion’s daggers and attaching them back on the body she was borrowing. “let’s go fix that, shall we? Maybe a glass of wine will calm this stomach for a bit, too.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You’re like a newborn vampire. Any amount of blood, regardless of the source, and you will…”

“How is it different than when we go out to get our situation sorted out? I can’t stay here the entire time, Star.” Tav rebutted as she cut him off. Astarion thought for a moment and shook his head.

“Fine, but only because I’m with you. I know the signs, and with our tadpoles, you can communicate with me if things become too hard without making it obvious.” Astarion sternly stated. He was looking forward to eating, but he would never put her in danger over something like this.

 The couple made their way downstairs, and thankfully found the establishment mostly empty. It was still early, so it was possible the lunch crowd had simply not descended on them yet. It was fortuitous since the scant noise in the tavern was already giving Tav a headache. All of the noise was worse than in the room, but Tav wouldn’t let it beat her. The couple sat down at the bar, and Astarion found himself overwhelmed with the options before him. When he couldn’t eat, it was much simpler. Now? He wanted to try everything, but he also wanted to respect Tav and her body. He was sure a stomach ache was not what he had in mind if he overindulged.

Seeing his plight, Tav placed her hand on Astarion’s thigh under the table at the bar and asked; “Do you want some suggestions?”

“Please.” Astarion requested while being oddly shy about the his current state of affairs.

“Innkeeper, can we please have these?” Tav pointed to the roast chicken and stew combo. Tav had a suspicion Astarion would love to have protein but she wasn’t done yet. “Oh! And this!” Tav pulled a napkin out and wrote on it instructions before sliding it to the innkeep. Astarion tried to peek, but his eyesight wasn’t what it used to be. It was more dull than before, but then again his partner wasn’t an elf and the vampirism used to enhance his senses.

“You realize these are out of season?” The man replied to her paper instructions.

“Yeah, but I’ll pay well. Either I pay you a chunk of coin for them or I find someone who will.” Tav replied. The man seemed offended, but wasn’t going to pass up the chance to make more gold. He scoffed and left to get the original order, and when he placed it down, Tav handed him five hundred gold out of her money. She wasn’t about to dig in Astarion’s pockets and have him pay for her surprise. The man seemed pleased to hold the medium filled bag of gold and left them alone as he set on his task.

Meanwhile, Astarion could smell the food, and based off the pain in his stomach, he could guess Tav never ate breakfast. Of course, that isn’t because Astarion didn’t remind her, he was always trying to find ways to take care of his lover, and anything he could do, he would. He didn’t care if it was massaging her shoulders after a hard fight, or doing anything else to bring her comfort. ‘Her job was difficult enough’, he surmised, as she had to bring everyone together and make the hard decisions. At least in privacy, he could be the one to take care of her. Astarion took a tentative bite as Tav watched of his chicken. Astarion felt like there was an explosion of flavor in his mouth, which was of stark contrast to the ash he would taste while still a vampire. Tav, meanwhile, ordered wine from the bartender as the innkeeper was still not back. It made Astarion wonder what she wrote down, however his thoughts and his focus was zeroed in on the food he was consuming. Every bite was something new. Astarion knew he was going to miss this when he returned to his body, but damn, did the reprieve feel great. To be warm, to have a heartbeat, and to live for the first time in centuries was a blessing. It just was unfortunate his lover had to experience the opposite of his situation.

“I..well, technically you, have a full bladder.” Tav whispered as she put the glass of wine down. “Anything I should know before I go take care of this?” Tav was normally very proud and headstrong and yet in this, she was coy. This made Astarion smirk.

“You know my body almost as well as I do, my love.” Astarion chuckled “Just aim and shoot. Well… That, and don’t shake it too much after you’re done. You don’t want an erection… At least not when I can’t help you with it.” Astarion was smiling now at the thought of what they could do with these delicious new bodies, but of course, that thought would have to wait. Maybe if they got the chance later, they could indulge. After all, they were both beautiful people. Right now, however, Tav was fidgeting in her seat, and Astarion couldn’t pull himself away from the food if he tried.

Tav kissed Astarion on the forehead and politely excused herself to use the bathroom, while Astarion ate his fill. After about five minutes or so, Tav returned with a contemplative look on her face. Astarion could feel his smirk grow as he waited for her to sit down.

“So… How did it go?” Astarion teased

“I’m jealous. It is so easy for men to pee compared to being a woman.”  Tav huffed out while Astarion couldn’t help his full belly laugh.

“Well, I guess I’ll find out if the day drags too far on, then.” Astarion shook his head hoping he wouldn’t have to deal with more complex natural bodily urges. If Tav got her cycle, or worse, had to use… The facilities, in another regard, he would be lost on what to do since he doesn’t remember being in a body that consumed food, nor was he proficient in what she needed to do during her monthly visitor.

While Astarion ate and Tav drank her wine slowly, Astarion was aware of a small petite woman coming their direction from the open door of the Elfsong. Of course Astarion never met this woman but was taken aback by this determined face she wore. Tav, as per usual, was oblivious. Astarion kept an eye on her as he ate and saw she was staring at his body.

‘Great. Another one of those.’ Astarion thought to himself as he thought of the men and women who he could seduce without moving a muscle. He just didn’t realize until that day how handsome he was to see why he was so sought after in taverns and pubs they visited. Astarion would tell them off, but never really needed to once he and Tav got serious. He would just show some public display of affection and they would look away. Astarion thought that would be enough to protect Tav from this woman, but he soon found he was wrong.

Tav was a little surprised to feel Astarion place a hand on her thigh, and in between eating, he leaned over and kissed her deeply. Of course, Tav wasn’t aware of the woman who watched them, but noticed something was up with her lover.

“You okay?” Tav asked and placed a hand on his cheek as she was a little worried. Instead of a reply from her loverm the sound of someone’s throat being cleared became apparent.

Tav looked away one moment and looked at the person in question. The person was close… Too close. The woman was within Tav’s personal space and caging Tav against the bar even which made Tav frown. Who did they think they were? Tav saw that this woman looked very attractive. She had long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a thin figure. She held curves where she needed them, and larger breasts than Tav normally had. She was slightly tan, a high elf in full makeup and obviously she was aiming to get something out of Tav, but Tav couldn’t figure out what. This was until the woman spoke and Tav remembered that everyone saw her as Astarion.

“Hey handsome, what brings you here?”

Tav was surprised for a moment until Astarion cut in.

“If you don’t mind, this is a private conversation.” Astarion hissed out while not looking too ferocious as he was in Tav’s body. The woman ignored Astarion and turned her back to Astarion, still caging Tav in against the bar.

“It’s a bit noisy here. Why don’t we grab a booth somewhere a little more… Secluded? Leave this tart, and we can see what I have to offer…”

Tav put her hands up in an effort to have something between her and this random woman, but her anger festered under the facade.

“This ‘tart’ as you put it, is more important to me than you’ll ever know. You can’t offer anything that I don’t already have with her,” Tav caught herself to make sure she was using the right pronoun. “Now go fuck off, you hussy.” Tav snapped at the woman. Tav was not in the mood to deal with this situation. She was hungry, she was cold, and she didn’t want to have to kill a woman for coming onto her significant other. Tav felt honored that Astarion trusted her to protect and take care of his body, and she would be damned if she would betray that trust.

Astarion smirked at Tav’s shutdown of the situation and her words. It made him feel warm and seen to be with Tav, and he wasn’t referring to her body heat. When Tav declared her love publicly, it never failed to make him feel safe and cared for with her. Of course, these feelings were all new to him and he only just started accepting them, but he knew he always felt complete with Tav… No matter what body she was currently inhabiting.

“Ass! You don’t have to be a jerk!” The woman snapped but Tav just laughed. Unfortunately, that may have been the wrong thing to do, as it flashed Astarion’s fangs briefly, something the woman noticed.

“I… I’m going to go over there….I….I’m sorry bout the mix up” the woman stuttered and backed up slowly. Astarion noticed immediately why there was the sudden change in demeanor.

“Shit.” Astarion got up to handle the situation when a large red tiefling woman grabbed the scuff of her clothing and hoisted the belligerent woman in the air.

“Oi! I’ve been watching you. You give my friends any grief, and I’ll make sure the Fists can’t find any of your parts left.” The woman was shaking her head ‘no’, and squeaking out how she would tell no one and she was just mistaken.

With that, Karlach tossed the woman aside who ran promptly away. Astarion sighed in relief as Karlach joined them.

“I hope the bimbo wasn’t a problem. Kind of hard to miss, actually. Figured you’d both welcome some help,” Karlach mentioned before adding on “Had to do that bit a lot as a bodyguard in the Hells and even the bastard who sold me. I’d much rather help you both out, though. You both okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Astarion? Are you alright?” Tav answered while eyeing the entrance suspiciously.

“Yeah… It’s just jarring.”

“Thank you, Karlach, for the help.” Tav said in Astarion’s body and voice. It was very off putting to hear Astarion say thank you even if it was technically Tav saying it. Karlach just laughed and replied.

“Anything for you, Soldier...or should I say Fangs?” Karlach continued to laugh as she walked away.

Tav was going to speak to Astarion when the man she spoke to earlier returned.

“Hello, sir. I have what you asked for.” The man sighed and held out in his hand a square box. Tav took the box and thanked the man before grabbing Astarion’s hand and retreating back to their room. Astarion was confused but followed his lover all the same. Astarion smiled as he held her hand...or rather his own, but it was nice to share such a moment with the person he cared for.

Tav locked the door behind them and excitedly smiled at Astarion.

“I have a gift for you!”

“I saw. Five hundred gold, too. What did you buy?” Astarion asked curiously.

Tav grinned more, the smile reaching her eyes as she handed the box over to Astarion.  Astarion tentatively took the box and opened it to be hit with a sweet aroma. It was a fruity and sweet smell that Astarion felt like he smelt before. Long ago before he became a vampire. Astarion looked down and saw triangular shaped red fruit with a leaf at the base end.

They were strawberries.

Astarion could feel himself salivate at the thought and the smell of the confection. Astarion wasted no time bringing the red part of the fruit to his lips and taking a bite. It was beyond anything he had ever tasted before. If he thought the stew and chicken were good, then strawberries were divine. Astarion moaned and sat on the bed with his eyes closed. Astarion slowly chewed the food, enticing every drop of liquid to be expelled from the fruit before he swallowed.

“This is better than sex…” Astarion eventually blurted out after eating half the box of fruit.

“Better than sex? I guess I have to remind you how good that feels… If you want to, of course.” Tav attempted to be seductive, but one laugh from Astarion and she knew it wasn’t that great of acting in the new body. Tav began to laugh, too, but Astarion put the box down to the side and kissed her.

“Darling, I am very eager to see what that would be like, but first, you need to eat.” Astarion smirked and crawled on the bed a little to nestle between her legs. Astarion tossed Tav’s hair to the side and bared his neck. Tav couldn’t help her hunger as her mouth seemed to froth and foam at the mouth with saliva. She was already passively in pain due to her hunger, but if it could be abated, she would find that very welcoming.

“I can’t… I don’t know how much to take! I may kill you!”

“It’s sweet of you to be concerned, but I can get your attention. Worst case? I have my dagger on me and can do something superficial. I would like to think you won’t force me to use that option, my dear.”

“How… ow do I…?” Tav was confused but Astarion guided his body and head to the correct place on her neck and lowered her head.

“Open up and just swallow. When I get your attention, you just have to lick the wound to close it. Now, push down, my love, and enjoy.” Astarion mentioned as he braced himself for the pain of being bitten, but the pain was substantially less that what he remembered Cazador’s fangs were like. Tav punctured his flesh with a slight pop, her moan hitting his ears a moment later. Tav was given a moment or two before Astarion tapped on her shoulder and she pulled away, remembering to lick the wound first.

“Gods, you taste so fucking good. That was so sweet, rich, creamy and smooth, like a well aged wine or chocolate.”

“You did good, pulling away when I said to. Most newborns don’t have the strength to do that.” Astarion praised Tav, who seemed proud of that fact. “And about the blood? Do you see why I love drinking from you?” Astarion chuckled.

“I also have a problem. This is… Well… Awkward.” Tav would have blushed if she could as she gazed down and looked at the first hard-on she had in his body. “I feel like I need you. I really need you.”

Astarion smirked. “I suspected this would happen. Normally I’d take care of it on my own… Well, until we killed him. Since my rebirth, we’ve been at it like rabbits, so I never needed to hide my erection from you, not that you would have had an issue before our trip to the graveyard. I just wasn’t ready then, but now?” Astarion referred to Cazador like a vile poison he wanted to spit out of his mouth. “Let me help you get undressed.”

Astarion began unlacing Tav’s trousers, but he didn’t have the dexterity that he was used to and grew more and more frustrated at his inability to unlace her pants. Tav had to help him in the end as he was about to take a dagger to the laces.

“You need to relieve this.” Astarion huskily murmured as he was able to shimmy Tav out of the trousers and her underwear. Her cock jutted proudly at attention, a bead of Tav’s natural lubrication sat on the tip.

“Isn’t this masturbation?” Tav asked sarcastically.

Astarion laughed and replied. “Maybe, darling, but we both need to have clear heads to solve this issue,” Astarion replies “Plus, I’ve been dying to find out what these bodies feel like to have pleasure in. To know what these feel like.” Astarion fondled his own chest earning a low moan. “They’re so sensitive.”

“Let me help, then.” Tav began to undo Astarion’s pants while Astarion pulled at her shirt. Once the laces were free, Tav sat up and tossed her shirt to the side, pulling Astarion’s trousers down to his ankles. Meanwhile, Astarion had stripped his shirt, but was struggling with the bra until Tav came to his rescue yet again.

“I don’t get it. I am dexterous! This shouldn’t happen!”

“Maybe your body is dexterous, but mine is not. My body is built for a fighter build, honey.” Tav mentioned before taking his lips. Astarion kicked his pants and underwear off as they partook in each other. Astarion moaned when he tasted the blood on her lips, the taste was different than he remembered, but that didn’t matter to him. Tav took things a step further and deepened the kiss. They may have their bodies switched, but to Astarion and Tav? They didn’t feel like they changed bodies while they kissed each other. Everything felt normal, natural, and oh so delicious. Tav pulled back, and lightly nudged Astarion, asking him to lay down. Astarion couldn’t help how wet he was getting. Just the thought of what they would be doing made him want to clench his legs in an attempt to find relief for the deep ache inside of him. It was a surreal feeling, but one that Astarion understood well. It was desire. Astarion laid down and watched as Tav, using his body, crawled over him and took his lips again. Astarion could feel the erection against his thigh, as he instinctively thrust his hips towards Tav in an effort to find some kind of relief to the need he had, any kind of relief. Tav chuckled and began to kiss his jaw, his neck and his collarbone. She quickly made her way to his breasts and she took her tongue, giving his nipple a flick with the tip of the appendage. Tav clamped her lips over the nipple and swirled her tongue around the areola and nipple, earning a loud moan from Astarion. Astarion pushed his chest against her to get as close as possible to the pleasure she was giving him.

Tav spent a few more minutes lavishing attention on his rose bud before switching to the other. Astarion was very vocal as Tav massaged the breasts, licked and sucked on them and drove him mad with want.

“Please! Stop teasing me.” Astarion begged. Tav pulled back and smirked, then without kissing her way south, Tav skipped kissing Astarion’s stomach (or rather it was her stomach) and sank to the junction of Astarion’s thighs. Tav spread Astarion’s leg’s further and pulled the labia apart. Astarion swallowed hard, scared and excited in equal measure. Tav took a long lick up the center, from cleft to clit.

Astarion’s stomach clenched, pulling Astarion’s upper half off the bed slightly and momentarily.

“FUCK!” Astarion cursed, lowering his hand to the back of Tav’s head to encourage her to continue. Tav licked her lips and noted how although she tasted different, she was still sweet, and so Tav dove back in. Tav knew her body well so when she began her onslaught, she had to hold his body down on the bed. Tav began to twist her tongue and lap at the hidden pearl at the top of the vagina, sucking and varying the kind of licks and pressure on the clitoris. Astarion was loud, which was unheard of for the vampire. He usually was so well composed and so good at doing so. When Tav thought Astarion was building towards his crest, Tav slipped two fingers inside of Astarion whose legs trembled.

“I’m so close. Gods, this is unreal! This is so. Fucking. Good!” Astarion enunciated the last few words separately as he focused on his breathing. Tav curled her fingers looking for the small patch of flesh that was rougher to the touch and brushed against it several times.

This unraveled Astarion who screamed out Tav’s name in orgasm.

Tav could feel the contracting muscles, the throb and pulling inside where her finger sat. Tav helped Astarion ride out the climax, and when she went to pull away, Astarion grabbed her wrist. He grabbed the wrist of the hand that was inside of him just a moment ago and licked up the contents on her fingers.

“You still taste divine, my sweet. That felt so good. Now it’s your turn, lay on your back.”

Tav was going to argue back, but Astarion had already sat up and was crawling to his prize.

“You’re in for a treat, darling, I know how to suck cock well, and especially my own? This will be different, but I am sure I can make you come faster than you made me.”

“It’s a competition now, is it?” Tav joked.

“Never. I want you to thoroughly enjoy my lips and tongue on your new cock.” Astarion huskily said as his mouth now hovered over her engorged mast. Tav could feel his hot breath hit her new penis and she desperately wanted to thrust.  Astarion wasted no time and took her cock into his mouth, his hand holding her hips down just like she did with him, so she couldn’t thrust yet. Astarion ran his tongue up the bottom vein and twirled his tongue over the head of the length. It was Tav’s turn to be vocal as the sensation overwhelmed her. Astarion was right, because he was proficient, she was in nirvana and didn’t doubt she would come sooner than him. Tav tried to thrust and chase the release when Astarion pulled back to mutter.

My love, I want you to enjoy, not just come. Plus, you’re in for a treat.” Astarion took one long lick of her manhood. “The woman I love comes at least twice. We’re going to do a little testing and see how many I can squeeze out of you.”

“By the gods, you feel great. Please, let me come! I’d love to keep feeling this, but I really need release!”

“We just had sex maybe a day or two ago, don’t tell me you need so soon?”

“It’s you. I’ll always need you.”

“Grab my hair and thrust. I can take it.” Astarion said with a grin as he took his lover’s cock into his mouth once again. Astarion hollowed out his cheeks and sucks and moaned as he gave oral to his lover. Tav couldn’t wait anymore and lightly held his hair before she began thrusting into his oral cavity. His mouth was so slick, so hot and divine, that Tav wanted to stay doing this but the coil in her lower belly told her how close she was.

“I’m gonna…”

Tav couldn’t finish her sentence as Astarion used both his hands to pull Tav’s ass closer to his mouth, taking her all in and gave everything he had. She saw stars. She thought it was a myth, but this experience proved otherwise. Tav yelled out Astarion’s name, clenched her stomach as she partly sat up while she unloaded her load down her lover’s throat. Astarion just moaned as he drank his own sperm in. He noted how sour he tasted and wondered why Tav would like drinking his spend so much, however soon enough, Tav pulled away and left Astarion curious.

“You drink me when I taste like that? I mean, it makes sense why you’re so delectable, but why swallow me, my sweet?”

Tav looked him in the eyes and smiled. “I drink you down regardless of taste, because I love you. I want you to feel good, and honestly? You don’t taste that bad.”

Astarion looked at her quizzically, but noted she still sported a hard on. Astarion began to languidly stroke her mast while Tav would moan until Tav stopped him.

“Do you want to continue?”

“My dear, I am giddy from excitement. I want this. We need this, and gods, when will we get another chance to make love while in each other’s bodies?”

Tav crawled above Astarion at this point, as Astarion spread his legs around Tav’s hips and helped Tav line up her new cock.

“Now I should be prepared but you’ll want to slide in slowly. Especially because I haven’t been fucked as a woman before.” Astarion chuckled. Tav began to push in and almost doubled over her lover, the tight hot heat put Astarion’s mouth to shame. As she continued to push in, Astarion kissed Tav so as to muffle her moans. She was struggling not to spill her load so soon, and wondered how Astarion did it. Tav thought her new cock wouldn’t be as sensitive as her clit, but by the gods, was she wrong. Eventually, she was fully sheathed and waited for Astarion’s signal to proceed.

“Darling, this feels incredible. No wonder you ask for my cock so much! You can move. It’s like a deep ache inside me that goes away and feels so good, like burning electricity when you strike those walls.”

Tav began to move but was soon stopped.

“No, no, dear. You don’t simply pull out and shove in. Roll the hips.” Tav followed the instructions. “There you go. Doesn’t that feel better? It saves your back, feels better for both of us, and this way, you won’t fall out when you pull back.” Tav grew embarrassed at the last part as when they began coupling, she did, in fact, fall out for a moment. She didn’t know how far to pull back, as she wasn’t used to the appendage, but Hells, was he right. Everything felt better, tighter and more sensual as she rolled her hips into him. Tav kissed Astarion some more but deepened the kiss. She ran her tongue everywhere she could find. Astarion moaned and began to thrust back, his legs now tight against her hips and circled around her backside. The only sounds in the room were blissful moans, reliving sighs and cries of each other as skin slapped in rhythm of each other.

Tav began to speed the pace up, feeling the desire within her warn her that she wouldn’t last much longer, but she didn’t want to be the only one to come. Tav pulled Astarion's leg off her side and held it up as she rolled her hips. She angled herself deep and to the side slightly, which soon enough, pushed Astarion over the edge with a cry of her name. The contracting muscles and the throb from inside was too much and Tav soon followed afterwards. She emptied herself of her spend inside of Astarion, (or rather her own body). She didn’t care, he was undead, so the chance of pregnancy was astronomically low. Tav slumped forward as she caught her breath (although, as an undead, she didn’t have to) and was held gently by Astarion.

“Want to go again?”

[moremysteriesthantragedies]

I am curious about your general advice when it comes to writing asexual characters as an asexual yourself. 😊 /gen

Oh boy. I am going to try to keep this brief, but I could go on for hours about this subject. It's still long though (just not as long as it could be). so I'll put it under the cut.

Here is a list of things a lot of people assume makes a character asexual that just don't:

*Being aro/Uninterested in romance

*Being celibate

Having no interest in sex or sensual things for whatever reason.

Hating sex or sensual things for whatever reason.

*Notes: Someone can be aroace, but romantic orientation and sexual orientation are different. All romantic orientations or sexualities can also be uninterested in romance for their own reasons.

I would recommend avoiding language like "asexual lifestyle" when you mean celibate. It's offensive for the same reasons the phrase "gay lifestyle" is. It's assuming people of an entire sexuality all live the same type of life and shows what little one knows about the sexuality.

These can be traits of an asexual person, but these are all romantic orientations, personality quirks, or life decisions that don't make someone asexual. The only thing asexual means is that a person does not feel sexual attraction to others (though keep in mind asexuality is a spectrum). Sexual attraction and drive are separate, and how an asexual deals with this drive or lack thereof can vary from asexual to asexual.

Let me try to explain this in a way that allosexuals (anyone who experiences sexual attraction) can potentially understand: Your hunger (drive) and what you want to eat (sexual attraction) are two different things entirely. Asexuals can be offered a whole platter without any of the food looking that appealing. It may look pretty, but an asexual isn't going to be frothing at the mouth to consume it. Yet, some asexuals still get hungry, and food tastes good, so some asexuals will want to eat just to fulfill that hunger or because it tastes good. Asexuals are of course aware of food and they may have thoughts/fantasies about food because it satisfies this hunger or because it tastes good. Whether an asexual wants to eat alone or with others if this does interest them is entirely up to them and can depend from case to case (for some having dinner guests is fun! For others it is a royal pain).

Keeping this in mind, I would recommend people avoid the trap of treating some representation as better than other representation. Asexual characters that have their own personal interest in sex, asexual characters that have no interest in sex but may show interest/participate in some sensual activities, asexual characters that have no interest in either, and asexual characters that are repulsed by either are all valid.

I just don't agree with the idea that "sexually interested asexuals are not good representation" because there are real asexuals who have this experience and deserve to have representation as well. I think the main thing to remember is that asexuals can have a very different relationship with sensuality than those who feel sexual attraction. Aka avoid writing an asexual character that is basically just another allosexual with a few quirks.

It is so important to keep in mind that labels like "demisexual", for instance, are not just "allosexual light" . Demisexuals only feel sexual attraction after they feel a deep connection to someone. If you have a demisexual character being sexually attracted to complete strangers, then you're not actually writing an asexual character. If you have a demisexual who is called that because they're only interested in sex for specific, personal reasons not connected to their sexual attraction, you are not writing an asexual character. I will admit I don't know much about gray asexuals, but, from what I do know, it is often a title used by those who experience sexual attraction differently from allosexual individuals, so keep that in mind as well.

The way they experience sexual attraction is still different from allosexuals. Don't write an asexual as an allosexual making a personal choice. For instance, a character who is actively choosing not to have sex until they know someone better is not demisexual, demisexual individuals do not feel sexual attraction until they feel close to someone. A character that abstains from sex is not asexual, abstaining from sex is a personal choice not all asexuals make.

Here are some things to avoid when writing sensually interested asexuals:

I am just asexual myself, meaning I have no sexual attraction to others ever. I also only ever participate in sensual things for emotional connection reasons. This list pertains to this POV, as I am more experienced with that type of asexuality and treatment of sensuality in this context.

*Asexual characters suddenly having sexual attraction: In and out of the sheets, a character is still asexual. It is not a flip we switch to participate in these things, and sex does not "fix" our asexual state (we aren't broken to begin with). It doesn't mean we don't find our partners gorgeous though, it is important to separate aesthetic attraction from sexual attraction. Aesthetic attraction also does not go away during sexual activities.

Asexuals having no experience just because they are asexual: It will depend on their previous interest in the subject/opportunities in that department. Totally fine to make an unexperienced asexual character, just don't assume them being asexual means they have no experience.

Asexuals being apathic to sensual stimulation: We still have physical bodies that can feel pleasure. We still find sexual thoughts and scenarios stimulating. Us not being sexually attracted to the individuals involved does not mean sensual things stop being sensual. And yes, when someone we care about does any of these things, it is definitely stimulating.

Asexuals can't be "freaky": Asexual individuals with drives can have kinks just like everyone else. We too have sexual preferences and things we're really into, and they're not always "vanilla".

Notes: Let me put aesthetic attraction this way. You don't want to screw a painting because it's pretty. But, if you're feeling a certain way, you might imagine/bring that painting into that context. The painting still isn't sexual, but it can still be fun getting intimate with something that is pretty or that potentially has emotional value to you. (Don't take this too literarily).

Here are some general stereotypes I'd like to see less of:

They're so cute and innocent: Asexuals know what sex is. Again, some may not be well versed in it while others are very well versed. Even if they aren't well versed in it, that doesn't mean they have a "cute" and "innocent" personality. Asexuals are not children (unless the character literally is a child lol).

Prude to the max: Some may be uncomfortable with the topic of sex, but that doesn't mean they are just being "overly sensitive" nor does that mean they are rude about it. There are also plenty of asexuals that are very vulgar, some for humorous reasons and others due to simply being comfortable with the topic.

The cold/heartless asexual: I wrote a post about this once, but I'll repeat my point. Assuming the only reason someone can't feel sexual attraction is because they're "closed off" not only paints a lack of sexual attraction in a negative/unhealthy light but treats asexuality as a choice only "mean" people make. Totally okay to have a cold asexual character but, as I keep repeating, separate motives from sexuality, they are not the same thing.

They're just repressed: Asexuality is not "repression". Asexual individuals can be repressed in some ways just like everyone, but it's important to walk the line between repression versus lack of attraction and/or disinterest. They're not the same thing.

Remember, sexualities do not come with set personalities.

[iamgrape]

Gluttonous Love♡lust 6

Niki being Niki.

Previous || CH 6 || Next

➴.

"...(◕દ◕)" You look at Niki for a moment who seems to be a deep thoughts while he take a bite of his meal.

" You won't question why I'm asleep for almost the whole day?" You always wonder why Niki don't question you, or your odd habbit.

" Hmm? I don't think I should prey into your affairs." He already know why to begin with. He wonder what made you start such topic.

" Your not curious?" You pout. You wonder if Niki is being a dummy or your being a dummy of putting your self in a risk if you suddenly expose yourself. But living with him under a year made you felt bad for not telling him anything.

"Don't you know curiosity kills the cat, master?" He stared at you (color) eyes. "But if you want, you could always tells me."

"... I..." You gaze at Niki beautiful blue eyes, having a long eye contact. "You won't hate me?" Your voice almost sound mick.

" Why would I hate my master?"

" What if... What if... I'm not human...(◕દ◕; )" you nervously look at your hands in your lap, fidgeting and afraid what's his reaction is.

" Hmm? My master is not human~? Ahaha~" Niki chuckle as he realize it seems that you wanna confess your identity to him.

maybe if he don't snoop around in your defenseless form when sleeping, he will know the truth from you with you willing tell him. After all his master often the type that would feel guilty about something through their himedere/oresama facade.

"That's fine. I don't mind if your not human. After all. I'm not human either~" he stared into your eyes, when you finally look up to him with a nervous face. He watch as your face brighten when you heard his reply but still nervous about something.

"...(◕દ◕; ) w-will... That's good.. ahaha... B-but what if ... Hypnotically speaking ok? You find out i-im not send by that f-friend of yours... Ahmmm....." You were in verge of tearing up. Shaking like a hopeless prey that cannot stop their death, to be cooked.

"N-niki...??? A-are you mad...??(◕દ◕;; )". You saw how his eyes being scary, his eyeing you as if his gonna eat you alive, sound kinky but he probably mean literally. You can't help but felt chill.

"Are you... Are you... Gonna hate mmmmeee....?*hic..." Tears start to fall from your eyes as you realize he probably will hate you. No, his gonna hate you and eats you.

NIKI STOP IT!

he snap his own thoughts by his own nails digging into his tight, the pain snap him out of his deranged thoughts And the sight of you looking at him oddly.

It was so weird to be stared like a beast by you... Why would you look at him like that? No. Your looking at him in worry of something else...! You won't look at him like his sort of a monster right...?

" Ah? Sorry about t-that...ahaha..." Niki give a apologetic smile. His aura of a predator slip away as he close his eyes. "Please don't cry." He stood up from his seat as you start to sob and rock yourself in your chair. Like a little kid.

"Shhh... I won't hate you.." he softly wipes your tears away. "Please don't cry. It's ok." He cooed as he carried you in his arms and start to hummed a tone as he tried to calm you down but you continue to weep while leeching onto him.

"Huhu. You will! I'm a bad and a liar! Im bad!" Maybe the fact you haven't feed well enough for a lust demon, made you experience emotional moment like, a sign that you becoming far too weak. Maybe you'll be awake less than you did yesterday.

"Shh... It's ok, it's really ok." Niki felt hopeless as he cannot stop your tears drenching him. He felt bad, yet he don't quite understand your acting right now.

"..." You suddenly pause. You stopped crying or shaking.

"MC?" He was worried what's up with you now. He felt hungry when he realize the situation is very complicated and the fact your very close to him with the alluring delicious scent of yours made him even more in a dare situation but his use to control his hunger to some extreme intent.

"...here have an arm." You suddenly said, you thought about it. Niki probably too nice to you, maybe his just saying that cause your a pitiful demon his taking care off. You remember his a gluttony, your a lust demon. You probably taste delicious. Literally.

"Huh? " Now he doesn't understand whats going on your mind now, as you pout while shove your arm into his mouth. "Hey-hmm..." "He can't even say anything when your being pushy at it again.

"I won't die. A bite won't hurt... I t-think.(っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ so here have a bite. Master is a bad master..." You really want to repay Niki and apologize to Niki.

"Master is willing to feed my servant with my delicious flesh." You actually not sure if it's going to hurt bad or not but for sure. You'll heal right away.

"..." His blue eyes stared directly in your eyes, scanning your emotions and looking deep into your soul. Trying to see what's wrong with your head right now. But as your soft and aromatic flesh is right beside his mouth.

He can't help but gulp. His eyes suddenly darken as he look at your eyes for one last time which you nodded tearfully, more so fearing it would hurt than his taking a meat off you.

"What if... I get addicted to it?" He mumble as he slowly open his mouth his to tongue want to lick yet he stopped himself, wanting to take a bite yet he don't, he continue to have an eye contact with you, daring you to blink so he would stop this stupid charades you did out of being emotional.

"I-i... I don't think I'll die... I mean... Lust demon won't die being eaten... That's just being another category of p-preference..." You gulp as you felt your throat dry up by how seggsy his starring at you.

"..." You push your hand to his mouth more. Pouting why his not eating yet. " Servant you don't think I'm delicious enough to eat? (｡•́3•̀｡)?" You pout, not knowing what to offer Niki for being too nice to you.

His so nice to you. Offering a bite or two is something you can offer as you don't get a job either for the pass year. You lived a free loader who only know how to sleep, watch cartoon, wat and hug Niki before sleeping again.

"Ahaha~dont worry, master smell really nice~" he shook his head at your words. He chuckle a bit as he give you a soft smile. "Do you know...I use to have people come and go in my life. I have bad tendency. Even if I get close to a human, it would just me a spider and web of lies to eat my prey." Niki put down your hand as he wipe the remaining tears in your face and fix your messy face from crying too much.

"I was worried for a moment you know? When you come into my house. I usually won't try to eat unwilling victims because they have much life to give... The fact I thought Rinne is behind your appearance made me stop the urges as you probably come into my life because of order of the higher up, I cannot disobey the higher up or I'll be hungry without them paying me..." He was an underdog to people who offer him money to buy food or the chance to get a meal without his conscious and guilt getting the best out of him if he take a random victim.

He look at you who he been taking care and feeding since last year. He don't have enough for one but seeing you happily eat his meal makes him happy, someone who enjoyed his cooking.

His company. You won't look at him like his an outcast. Oh his precious master... ~ wouldn't do that right ?

Maybe they'd why he don't continue eliminating you out of his life when he knows your secret months ago. He grown attach to you.

No... it's not maybe. It is the reason. His precious master... So hopeless and delicious...

"But I wanted to eat you... After all, Your so delicious, your scent is driving me mad....~" he circle his arms around your waist, his head leaning and resting on your right shoulder blade his right hand reach up to your shoulder blade to trace his nails in a straight line.

"Awwwhmm...."You felt something sharp against your fresh and whimper in pain as his nails pierce through your flesh

"You taste very Divine..."he give a soft kiss as he lick the blood from the wound he made. He can't help but sigh in relief as he felt his hunger being erase but...

"MC..." He felt strange but he expected such effect. He don't know your that too clueless what you wanted to offer him, the consequences of you, offer of your flesh as a Lust demon to a gluttony.

"Should I feed you properly too?" His blue eyes that slowly enveloped by lust. A soft smile on his face as he look at his pitiful master who unable to feed properly for along time.

Oh master of mine... What would you do without me~?

"Hmm?" You hummed not able to see his gaze as he tilt your head upright and slowly lean in to give you a passionate kiss...

[zorkaya-moved]

@maquiscursed asked:

❝ there are two sorts of people. the players and the pieces. ❞ (from al-haitham)

Oh darling Scribe comes to confess—the roles of the game seem to profess the future's tango and its endless recess upon the ending of this game's last guess. The theater runs through her veins, entertainment wishes to launch itself into her embrace while she smiles so benevolently at those who gives her just exactly what she wants, needs, and desires.

However, Al-Haitham is not someone who she wants to give her anything aside from a short and sweet company. They're both too similar and too different. If not for the need to indulge and entertain, she's sure she'd find herself not wanting to make the outside world much of her trouble. As long as there's knowledge to gain, food to eat, money to spend, and a roof above one's head? Sometimes, even the sky can make a roof above one's head. When it's not raining, of course.

It's obvious to her that Al-Haitham does not see himself as a mere 'piece.' A piece means he's controlled, forced to do what he doesn't want to. It's a play by other's rules, it's a step back and a step forward upon another's beck and call. No way the Scribe will listen to anyone but himself... and perhaps the Dendro Archon. There's power in him, but he lacks ambition. He lacks ambition and the drive to do whatever he needs to so he could get what he wants. It seems like he already has everything, settled and comfortable where he is.

It must be nice.

It must be nice not to want more, not to become hungry, and not to be ambitious and not to strive forward. It must be nice to always be warm, to always feel something, and to be satisfied. It must be nice not to feel the hunger and possessiveness she experiences once in a while.

"Pfft, obviously," she rolls her eyes at him playfully, leaning back against the chair and shrugging the words off. Her shoulders drop, posture remaining laid-back and just a bit slouched as if she'll fall asleep on this comfortable chair. The pillow she sits on feels nice. Quite comfortable! Must be why the Scribe isn't suffering from Pain In The Ass Syndrome. Well, not in a physical way as some would like her to underline. "I mean, there are those who play the game and those who just don't. You're a player, you've got your own set of rules you like to follow. It comes with having control over your life, I guess. Or would you disagree?"

It's even funnier how he says that to her. She enjoys how he brings this example into their conversation because it's natural to see the Sages as 'players' as well, but little do people know of her interest in experimentation and wish to see how far humanity can go on. How nice it must be for Al-Haitham to have morality that doesn't stop him from wishing to see chaos. However, Sokolova Zarina is a woman of ambition. Pure, unfiltered ambition.

You're correct, Al-Haitham, there are players and pieces. And right now, all of you've been playing according to my expectations for years. I just wonder when you'll evolve far enough to find out the truth.

"I can't imagine you being a piece. It'd mean you'll be up on and about doing all the tasks you hate," the woman reaches out to one of the candies she brought here for some sugar to her tea. "You know, like talking to people more often and stay in your office past your assigned hours." There's slyness to her smile as she holds back a chuckle.

It's all warm mirth from her today, not letting the Scribe sit in silence during their short break away from their project.

[justifiedthoughts]

Al-Haitham Hunger Headcanons!

Because I’m brain rotting, haha!

- First of all, you cannot convince me that this man is not a workaholic. And you know what so often comes with the workaholic stereotypes?? Self-neglect :D - Personally feel as if Al-Haitham would do the basic necessities that would only result in distracting him from his work if left unkept (i.e. various bathroom needs) - He would view hunger as a secondary, able to easily ignore it. After all, he can basically consider it the headache of his stomach, and he’s worked through many headaches before, so he can work through the hunger pangs too.

- Generally, his stomach is pretty silent, all of the ‘growls’ he experiences making little to no noise. - If his stomach starts to make actual, noticeable sounds, he might remove his hearing aids just so his reading won’t be interrupted by the incessant noises.   + You can’t convince me those ear accessories are not hearing aids. - Pressure against his abdomen tends to elicit louder growls, paired with sharper hunger pangs compared to usual. As such, he’s taken to having his chair a bit farther from his desk than is standard. - Holds himself more stiffly, finding that being slumped is often a bigger pain than any value it may have (it hurts more).

- When asleep, he has a tendency to curl up, hands unconsciously pressed against his empty stomach. It doesn’t matter if he’s laying down or sitting at a desk; a sleeping, hungry Al-Haitham is a curled Al-Haitham. - Pressure = growling though, so he wakes up somewhat frequently to a long, drawn-out whine from his stomach, assuming he still has his hearing aids in. If not, then it’ll likely be a hunger pang that wakes him instead.

- I like to think that sometimes, he absentmindedly swallows air when he’s hungry, almost like he’s trying to falsely convince himself that he’s comfortably full. - While he is full (of air), it’s not exactly comfortable, the swallowed air usually just causing him gas and an increase in the amount of painful cramps that he experiences.

And this is all I can think of at the moment, haha. I hope you enjoyed! :D