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lovinglokilaufeyson · 8 months ago

Text

Physique - A.A.

Pairings: Spawn!Astarion x Fem!Reader/Tav

Warnings: BG3 Spoilers, not really proofread, might trigger some insecurities for some due to content (body/breast comparison), Anxiety, Fluffy, Understanding/Comforting Astarion, Angst, Smut, Breast Worship, Nipple Play, Blood Drinking, Mutual Pining: Astarion x Tav are NOT established (yet), but have slept together in previous acts

Wordcount: 2,564

Summary: You and your fellow companions are out on the town in Baldur’s Gate late one night. After seeing a breathtaking bartender with nice breasts ogling over Astarion, you become insecure with your own breasts. Astarion shows you he doesn’t care what size they are, and proceeds to worship you for the remainder of the night.

A/N: I wrote this due to a recent breakdown about having smaller breasts and not feeling desirable enough in my own body. I absolutely think that breasts of all sizes should be celebrated, if anyone has had similar feelings, this could help you. Additionally, this doesn't only focus on breast size, but the reader's overall body image and insecurities. That being said, it could be relatable for multiple reasons. Also, keep in mind that Astarion is likely incredibly open to any size or shape of any body. He loves us all.

You and the crew entered the Blushing Mermaid, excited to partake in some unwinding given the day you all had. The tavern was very busy on this particular night, although there weren't many days where it wasn't. There weren't many days where you and the party got to celebrate for an evening either. After a long, fearsome battle, you were ready to wind down for the night, but also to have some fun.

That's where the alcohol came in. And lots of it too. Astarion had initially been weary of going to a tavern again, considering his past. But - Cazador was finished now. And to his relief, the environment that that party provided him with was much more pleasant than his typical bar experience.

One of the barmaids almost immediately approached him. She had bright, platinum blonde hair that bordered on white, similarly to his own. Her eyes were a breathtaking shade of blue, and she seemed to have zero hesitation in approaching the pale elf. Her bosom pressed against the lavender fabric that she wore, below a strand of iridescent pearls that reflected the little light that was left in the tavern. Her chest was pressed up by a bronze-toned corset, strung tightly together at her front. This accentuated the woman's already prominent breasts. She wore knee high boots that matched the tone of the corset, and a teasingly white ruffled slip that snuck underneath the purple fabric of the dress.

Typically, she was someone that Astarion would lure back to Cazador, and he hated being reminded of his past self in that regard. She was inarguably attractive, conventionally. So, when she approached him, he did feel pulled to charm her as he typically would. However, he veered towards casual conversation. Now that Astarion knew you, he had a hard time finding anyone else desirable. Even those that he would have once found deliciously stunning bored him. In his defense, they just weren't you.

You had fought by his side and showed him loyalty that he had never known before. You helped him destroy Cazador and set free the remaining vampire spawn. Initially, he was upset that he didn't ascend, but after several long nights stargazing with you and reminiscing, you both concluded that it was for the best. And, of course, in doing so, Astarion had fallen. He spent many nights dreaming of you, fewer were spent with nightmares filled about Cazador. However, you seemed to be a protective shield from these nightmares, so he frequently sought out your presence to comfort him as he fell asleep.

Unbeknownst to you, Astarion was quite smitten. Perhaps omit the word quite and replace it with entirely. Entirely smitten. There was not one part of him that didn't long for your presence always. You had figured that your "one-night stands" were entirely superficial, connecting you to each other's bodies. Though that was what Astarion intended initially, it soon turned into far more than that for him. He was in love with your entire soul, your body, your heart, your mind. Imagine how embarrassed he was when he realized, especially after he planned on simply charming you to trust him and never betray him. Because oh boy, like a fool he felt.

Even more he felt like a fool for not telling you yet. He simply winced when you were hit in battle, as if he could feel the pain you felt. He smiled at you like you were his sunshine, he would trade a life in the sun just to admire your glow, even if just for a moment. That was one of the things that helped him realize he did the right thing, not going through with the ascension. Not that you would have left him, but you certainly would not be as close as you were today.

He felt jealousy coursing through him whenever he watched you talking to one of the other party members for too long. He knew you weren't his property. Despite the few wondrous nights you had spent together, he hadn't admitted to any further feelings to you. He almost did after you defended him so drastically in front of Araj when she asked to have him drink her blood. "He's his own person" you had insisted, and Astarion believed that with those words, you had enlightened a glow in him that had never been seen before, even when he was alive. He felt loved. And he felt love for you, too.

From that day, he believed that without a doubt you had his back. He would make sure to have yours, as long as you'd let him. Honestly, the only reason he let his eyes linger on the barmaid for as long as they did was due to the fact that you would look phenomenal in the same outfit. He looked back at you, and his eyes softened at the sight. You looked as if you had just been body slammed by Karlach. You hadn't, but your constricted pupils told him that something had to be wrong.

Astarion grabbed his drink out of the barmaid's hand, and she stood stunned as he turned away in an instant, heading towards you. He kept his cool, trying to maintain subtly in case you were in danger. You were fairly used to innocent touches by Astarion, but this one felt different. He let his free hand settle on the small of your back, his drink in his other hand. You shuttered as he lent back to whisper in your ear. "Everything okay darling? You seem startled." You nodded timidly, which was unusual for you. Typically, you would meet him with a quip back, but he knew from this simple interaction that you were not yourself. "What's going on in that head of yours?" You couldn't respond. Not that you didn't want to, but more so that you were paralyzed in fear regarding the sight you just saw.

You knew that you and Astarion weren't together, as much as you may have liked to be. The barmaid was likely much more his type, judging from the entrancement he had entered looking at her. What you had - it wasn't anything special. You had merely slept together, and Astarion had only prompted those interactions for his own benefit. He told you that, and you still hoped things could be different. You had hoped that all of those late nights underneath the starry sky could change things between you. And yet, the time never came. In this moment, you felt fairly hopeless.

Astarion waited expectantly for a response from you. "I'm going out to get some fresh air" you spoke suddenly, pulling away from his grasp and taking your own drink in your hand, heading outside as fast as you could. Astarion was approached by the barmaid once more, who was aggravating him at this point, if he had to admit. "Listen, I'm not interest-" he began, but was cut off by her soft voice. "I know. You clearly have an interest in her. I was going to tell you to go after her. Any guy in this bar would be lucky to have her." The words surprised Astarion, as he expected the barmaid's persistent efforts to bed him for the remainder of the night. Astarion looked at her, a little less weary now. "How'd you know?"

"The way you look at her" she said. "The rest of the men in here were staring with lust and desire, especially when you went up to get your drink, when she was alone. But you, as soon as you thought there was something up with her, you looked at her with such concern, compassion, and love." Astarion nodded at this, the barmaid patting his shoulder and ushering him forward. There was a small part of him hung up on her mention of other men looking at you with lust in their eyes, but there were more pressing matters now.

He followed the trail to the exit, looking out the doorway and seeing your beautiful form, unfortunately there were many eyes on you at the present moment. Several men noticed that you had exited and popped out onto the porch with you. You hardly noticed; you were too busy comparing the outline of her chest to your own. You almost drew your weapon at the feeling of Astarion's hand sliding along to sit at the small of your back once more. You drew in a breath and stiffened before you turned to him in recognition. "Goodness you scared me." It was the most honest sentence you had said in the past 20 minutes, and he knew that. He had caught you off guard.

"Should we talk somewhere more private, love?" Gods, you hated it when Astarion used pet names like that. You felt your heart flutter just a little bit too fast. "Please," you spoke, and felt Astarion guide you to one of the private rooms located within the tavern, hidden behind a red velvet curtain that concealed the room’s contents. Astarion flipped a switch to indicate that the room was occupied.

Within, a crimson couch sat, contrasting the wooden floors and dark colored walls. In the middle of the room sat a wood coffee table atop an ornately patterned rug. A few lit candles were grouped on the coffee table, giving the very small room a dim light. It was - cozy.

You sat your drink on the coffee table, Astarion doing the same. He kept his hand attached to the small of your back as he led you to the couch. You both sat down, Astarion holding his hand on your shoulder now. "Darling, talk to me, please. You looked like you had seen a ghost earlier."

You took a deep breath. "I guess I just felt really insecure while looking at that barmaid, that's all" you admitted, and Astarion's jaw nearly dropped, but he managed to keep himself composed, following up with "why?" "There's many components, but to keep it short, I'm insecure about my- my- uhm" you couldn't finish, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Astarion clicked his tongue, which had a slight hint of disappointment in tone. "My boobs, okay?" You stuttered sheepishly, hiding your face in your hands as soon as you finished.

Astarion tried to picture the last time he had bed you. Although, the picture he had replicated in his mind couldn't do you justice. He leant towards your ear, whispering "Darling, I think you might have to refresh my memory. I can't remember your breasts being any less than perfect." You peered up at him, a puzzled look on your face. "Now is not the time for jokes, Astarion." You spat defensively.

"Not a joke in the slightest, my sweet. Will you allow me to jog your memory on your perfection?" Astarion looked genuine, which lead you to give a subtle nod. His fangs peeked out as he smiled at you in response. "Are you comfortable here, my sweet?" You nodded once more, as if you were afraid that words would break the vampire's decision.

Suddenly, Astarion's soft lips were on yours, his tongue following soon after. His hands reached for your corset, which held your bosom beautifully. However, Astarion was even more positive that your nakedness would produce even more breathtaking effects, as it did previously with him. Without even looking, Astarion was able to undo your bodice and strip it from you, so that only your dress remained. He continued to kiss you, then bringing his lips down to lay soft pecks along your neck, leaving a particularly long one against your bitemarks. He transitioned you to a horizontal position, with him atop of you, between your legs.

Before he headed lower on your form, he whispered "you're so beautiful, my dove." He felt your pulse quicken and started to recognize the affect that his praise had on you. He looked up at you, making eye contact and giving you a wink. This man would be the death of you. He released the dress from your bosom, leaving your breasts free for his eyes. "Now, I've missed these." He tutted, flicking your left nipple with his thumb while he brought his mouth to suckle on its partner. Your sensitivity level was clearly heightened, which he took full advantage of, swirling his tongue across your nipple and swishing it back and forth.

“Fuck, Astarion.” You moaned as he continued his pursuit of your pleasure via the excursion of your bosom. Before he let the right one go, he left a trail of love bites around your breast and across your sternum, before continuing his pursuit on the left breast, where he also left a plethora of bruises. If anything, he wanted to take this time to mark you. More importantly, to praise you. “My beautiful love, your boobs are perfect. You are perfect.” His words made you shutter once more. “Star…” Astarion hadn’t heard that little pet name from your lips, but he did enjoy it. “Hmmm, that’s new” he muttered.

“Darling, may I please have a taste?” He gestured to your breasts, showing you his fangs. “Please do,” you responded. You felt Astarion’s cuspids puncture your skin, digging into your breast tissue. The blood supply was scarcer than when he drank from your neck, but he enjoyed it just as much. It just meant he would spend more time suckling on you. Your blood seemed even more delicious than the last time he devoured it. As he suckled from your left breast, he flicked his finger across the opposite nipple.

“Gods, I love you.” Astarion perked up, removing his fangs from your tissue. Did you say that only for the pleasure that he was bringing for you? Did he mishear you? “Pardon?” He spoke while peering up at you. You sat mortified; a hand clasped over your mouth. “I- well” you stuttered out, in utter shock of what you just said. “Did you just say what I think you did?” Astarion inquired. “Depends on what you think I said, I suppose.” You responded shakily, uncertain of your words, but hoping to find a way out. “I love you?” He questioned, watching as your cheeks turned a faint hue of red, cueing confirmation. “Yeah…” you confirmed after a moment. “Truly?” Astarion followed up. If he was human, he would guess that his cheeks would look a lot like yours, flushed. You nodded, glancing embarrassingly at him, hardly making eye contact.

“I love you too, darling.” He admitted, sighing as the pressure was taken off of his shoulders. He shimmied upwards, meeting you face to face and placing another kiss on your lips. “Fuck, do I love you.” He said it again, smiling into the kiss as you reciprocated. These kisses had slightly less passion, although you knew you had a lot of passion to come. For tonight, with love confessions, you would be gentle with one another. The night ended with Astarion on his back, and you cuddled atop him, laying on the couch behind a red curtain.

Your companions were slightly worried at first, before getting confirmation from the barmaid that you two had went to have some fun together. “Well, at least they stopped denying it” said Karlach. The others nodded in agreement, having seen you pining after one another for the past several months.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion fluff #astarion vampire #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fandom #astarion fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion romance #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion

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hmshermitcraft · 1 year ago

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Gridoc 2 :D

Doc only likes people being afraid of him when they deserve it, and Grian doesn't deserve it. He doesn't want Grian to avoid him and he definitely doesn't want him to actively run away. He's seen it out of the corner of his eye, he'll be shopping and catch Grian come around the corner, spot him, and then do an about face and go back from where he came.

So, he invites the buttercups, and Ren, to a nice little picnic at spawn. Neutral ground, neutral people, no reason to be afraid. It works and Doc finally has the chance to talk to the guy, Scar and Mumbo too but they're more accomplices than instigators.

Calmly, and in English this time, Doc explains that pranks are fun, welcome, and expected, as long as both parties are in on the joke. He explains that he felt helpless and unable to defend his territory and why it was so upsetting. Grian understands, parrots also have nests after all and he knows what it's like to have one invaded, and he properly apologizes for taking it too far. Scar does too, Mumbo and Ren are too busy talking about their shared experience living in vans and busses to really care about the conversation at hand.

Things go back to normal, or closer to it, after that meeting. Grain leaves eggs, unhatched, around the hall of goat, like an Easter egg hunt. Doc puts a splash pot of levitation above Grain's door, and the little pranks continue on. They escalate a little bit as both parties grow bolder but it remains a game and not a war.

The only thing that's different is that both Grain and Doc are supporting a surprising, but not unwanted, growing affection for the other. It comes to a head when Doc is heading home one night and his eye fucking dies. Shouldn't have taken that last aerial view. He's under the Rock, Dwayne, currently, he meant to land on the bridge but missed, cause blindness and all that. He's busily squinting at his comm trying to make out the words to call someone and get him when Grian lands and asks if he's ok.

He is ok, as long as someone walks him home, wink wink. It's nice holding Grian's hand again, comforting and soft in his own. He doesn't have any anxieties about being led astray.

They reach the perimeter, lights from the hall of goat glow in the distance, brighter than the moon. "I can go from here, should be able to make it on my own if you want to go to bed."

"are you sure? I don't mind, I- I like...I like holding your hand."

"oh.. actually uh, I think I might need some guidance."

"I wish we would hold hands when you're not blind"

"me too" doc presses closer, Grian indulges him.

They make it all the way to docs room before he has any second thoughts, half of him wants to invite grian inside, show him his most personal space because he trusts and likes Grian. The other half of him is saying No Fucking Way, especially not when he's vulnerable, what if Grian betrays him? Well, shut up other half, he leads Grian through the door.

"I've never seen a creepers nest before.." he says in wonderment.

"they're very well hidden," doc pops out his eye and plugs it in, "usually reserved for special people."

"oh."

"mhm."

Awkward silence stretches on, doc scratches 'absentmindedly' at the base of his horn. Grain shifts his weight from foot to foot.

"can I kiss you?"

"please."

-s

first part!

Doc must really like Grian, because he wakes up the next morning with the bird hybrid tucked up against him. Doc rumbles, pleased, pulling Grian a little closer. Grian sighs, sounding like all is right in the world.

They start holding hands. They start kissing (only when nobody's looking, they know what the hermits are like.) Doc gets to find out what a parrot nest looks like.

And the pranks continue. Except now one is just as likely to lead into a candlelit dinner as it is a mess to clean up.

#hermitshipping #ask #grian tag #docm77 tag #gridoc #s anon #mod 🎀#theme: enemies to lovers

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preciouslittle-bhaalbabe · 5 months ago

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just wanted to say it's so refreshing to see someone be normal about the AA discourse. i generally take issue with people advocating agressively for media that's supposed to "teach me" and assuming i'm going to do everything i see in some video game irl now (do they think i'm gonna try to find 7000 souls to sacrifice in order to gain superpowers now as well?). and then there's the whole thing where they assign a moral quality to their discomfort with AA, and that's a bag of worms way bigger than fandom discourse haha. but, honestly, it's just insulting that they think i don't know that the romance with AA is "unhealthy", so patronizing.

i mean that's literally why such a story/character/romance can be enojable in the first place, you take it as prerequisite that it's unhealthy and move on to see what else it is. that's literally what fiction and roleplay is for, getting to explore the situations that wouldn't be good for you irl from a safe distance, that's why it can be fun. and this is my personal experience with AA of course, but basically i have my resist durge/spawn astarion run as "canon" and everything else i treat as aus, i'm just putting these guys in situations but i can always go back to my og story if i want that specific brand of comfort. and it creates this extra distance, so i'm cool with both darker and softer takes on AA and durge, in my own playthroughs and fanworks and those of others. it's just fun to see my favourite characters in different circumstances, idk what's so complicated about this concept to some people.

I still hold onto the hope that most people feel this way and just enjoy their game without adding to the shit pile that is Astarion discourse. I like having conversations about this because I feel like it reassures people that yes, we can be normal about stuff like this. There is no reason to get on the soap box about these topics, headcannon or otherwise. This isn't the first game/character to get plunged into the shitstorm like this and I'm sure it won't be the last.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #asks #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion

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blackstar5078 · 5 months ago

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EggCartonSMP Day 31!

(I'm doing day by day because I'm way too tired to do anything fancier).

(This happened during July 8th).

Summary under the cut!

Both Wither and Bluebell were hanging out at Spawn, until Wither spotted someone in the distance.

Her fear instincts started to kick in, so she made a quick decision:

Wither: Well, there's government C.A.T.S and Endermen spies. The C.A.T.S are usually between the colors black, gray and white. The endermen, so far it seems is the hostile ones. And they have been spying on us a lot, but also others it seems?

Sky: I've seen some endermen in my home, but it has been a while. But I have noticed a higher volume of endermen around your house than anywhere else I've been.

Wither: Yeah, I don't know if Bluebell still has that Area 27 book, but it gives some context.

Sky: Area 27?

Bluebell then gave Sky the book to read.

Wither: I guess I'm interesting since I just arrived here and they don't know who or what I am. So they're trying to figure that out maybe? Bluebell I don't know what they're collecting.

Bluebell: I want to move back home but it's not safe...

Sky: Well, this is a terrible situation to be in. I'm sorry this is happening.

Wither: I appreciate the sympathy, really. About Vee, well... She started to act weird, usign terms I have only heard from individuals in lab coats and then we found their ''Transporter.'' Which is a green and big ominous tube, and, in my experience, they're not good news, then she also behaved weird with Magma, and we helped him to get to a safe place.

Sky: When I went home after I showed you The Wither, Vee was at Spawn. She asked me if I had seen a ''blue creature'' around. Something seems very different about her.

Bluebell nodded and went back to their bedroom.

Sky nodded in agreement.

Wither: Thank you a lot, I was... scared, I honestly don't think I can protect them on my own.

Sky: It's hard to think about bad things happening to the people you love, I know how it feels.

Wither: It's something new to me, to be honest... And I got more afraid as nobody was listening to me...

Sky: I'm listening now. It seems like you're doing the best you can.

Wither: Thank you... I was thinking maybe it would not be enough.

Sky: Maybe not. But there's no way to tell the scale of the threat right now, and you can only ever do your best.

Wither: I will consider this... I also thank you for listening, I will tell Bluebell it's good now.

Once Bluebell was back, she brought up how worried she was about Rox's absence, as it's been longer than it was promised to be.

They got Sky in the loop about that situation too, then said goodbye to him.

The rest of the day was spent doing healing potions and flags for Spawn.

After all of that, it was journal time.

Wither hugged Bluebell and comforted her.

One more hug for the goodbyes and they went to sleep.

---

Blue, I hope you enjoy that conversation between Wither and Sky that you never saw before 👍.

Creeedits:

Bluebell - @bluefoxproductions

Sky - @sky-bee42

Vee(?) - @bbqfrank

There's more posts coming ✌.

#eggcartonsmp #ecsmp wither #ecsmp bluebell #ecsmp sky #ecsmp vee #ecsmp V33

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bloodlessbelmounte · 5 months ago

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As Cold As Death (Part 3)

Part 1|2|3|

Summary:

You've had always lived what felt like a half-life, died more times than you could count. Astarion was a vampire spawn who had been "living" in the shadow of his master. But things change for the both of you when you're abducted by Mindflayers and implanted with tadpoles. With a Cleric of Shar; a Githyanki Warrior; an Escaped Solider for Zariel; the Blade of Frontiers; a Former Chosen of Mystra; the Corpse of a Scribe and the Pale Elf, you venture forth towards Baldur's Gate in the hopes of finding a cure. Where the shadow over Astarion is darkest and the Dead Three's chosen lurk along the way.

Genre: Romance, Slowburn(-ish)

Pairing: Astarion/Necromancer GN!Reader (Tav)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, blood drinking, manipulation. More to be added as the fic goes on. Please let me know if there's any I missed.

Word Count: 4,140

Note: Sorry this took so long, got a new job as a TA at a SEN school which is pretty full on but it's the holidays now. Also had family matters crop up. From now on any spells that have a verbal component will use the Spell Saying Guide by Gorilla of Destiny as using Latin for magic systems is lame and boring. Especially in a fantasy realm where Latin doesn't exsist. Also I tweaked the previous chapter to be more in line with my vision for Tav, only a minor change that I feel most won't notice as it's just one sentence, but it changes the context around Tav and their magic in this chapter and beyond. This has been cross-posted to AO3 and can be seen as a prequel to 'Predators and Prey'. No beta, we die like bing bong.

With everyone back it was decided that a short rest should be taken before continuing down the road back to the Grove. Though those who accompanied you to Ethel’s didn’t need the rest, those who had returned from the Blighted Village looked as if they had undergone a strenuous battle and survived by the skin of their teeth. After lunch, they had immediately made their way to their respective tents. For your part, you were sat in your own tent - journaling; a habit you had picked up from your teacher. From the corner of your eye you could see Astarion, ever bored, rifling through your backpack. The evident confusion on his face as he pulled out twin daggers, both with your initials engraved, made you giggle. And that’s how things continued until the others roused in the early evening hours.

Lae’zel approached you with a book in hand, you could feel the vile aura radiating from it before she reached you.

“We encountered this while in the basement of a herbalist. It appeared he was dabbling in things beyond medicine.” She handed over the book, its cover was a patchwork of humanoid flesh - stitched together with a screaming face in it centre with eyes made of dark amethyst. You knew the country this book came from by the reek of its magic. “And this we found in a Phase spider nest, it seems to be the same kind on gem used for the books eyes. Wyll believed it best that the book be under your care. Though, I suggest we destroy it - it seems cursed to me.”

Your conversation seemed to have garnered an audience as Astarion and Gale gathered around the two of you.

“That looks terribly heavy. Why don’t you let me carry it for you?” It was an item of power, of course Astarion would want it. If there’s something you’ve learnt about him during your journey so far, it was that he only ever acted in his own favour, your agreement included.

“I have my fair share of experience with dangerous books. I’ll take that off your hands - into more prepared ones.” After learning about Gale’s Netherese orb - where he got cursed with after opening a book he knew little about - you were very reluctant to trust him with a tome from Thay of all places.

“There’s no need for either of you to concern yourselves with this. This tome is about the necromancy in the country of Thay.” You grimaced in distaste, this book was the work of those who worshipped the evils of this world. You made your way towards Shadowheart, the other following out of curiosity. Throwing the book on the ground in front of her you announced, “We’re destroying this.”

“What are you doing? That’s no way to treat a book!” Gale protested.

You ignored him, “Shadowheart, if you’d please do the honours. It’s only weakness is radiance.”

“Come now Tav, its a necromancy book! Surely you’d be wanting to learn as much as you can from it!” Gale continued.

“It’s tainted! Only the morally bankrupt would peruse its pages. The land of Thay is a lichdom, an affront to death itself by trying to escape it-”

“But one would think as a necromancer yourself-”

“I didn’t choose to be a necromancer! Necromancy chose me! My necromantic abilities are not the same as Thay’s. I will hear no more about this from you wizard. Now Shadowheart, kindly turn this thing to cinders before anyone else questions my choice.”

Shadowheart nodded and raised her hand, “Hunat-’muli!”

A Guiding Bolt shot down from the sky and incinerated the book in radiant light; only for your group to be swiftly blinded by a consuming darkness. Seemed that your actions might have released something from the tome’s pages as the darkness formed into three shadow beings. Your magic thrummed in your veins much like it had when you met Astarion, these beings were undead.

As you were all taken by surprise, these beings took the opportunity to make their attacks. Necrotic claws slashed at Shadowheart, yourself and Gale - you three having been the closet. Gale and Shadowheart both staggered at the hits as claws caused the flesh it made contact with to decay, but you faired better than them for once. Sure the claws had cut your arm, but the decay was minimal.

Astarion was the first to act in your group, his enchanted daggers actually piercing the sides of the creature that had attacked you. It let out a haunting howl of pain before lashing out in retaliation but Astarion, always light on his feet, dodged out of the way in time.

Lae’zel was next to get her wits about her, she charged towards the one that had attacked Shadowheart. She slashed at it twice with her Everburn Blade, seemingly seriously injuring the shadow creature as a call of “Cunat-’wyn!” from Shadowheart summoned a Sacred Flame which was that creature’s end.

Gale tried to dodge yet another attack from his assailant but failed as the creature wrapped both its arms around him and sapped his strength.

“Luton-’mul!” You conjured your magic missiles, aiming them all at five darts at the creature attacking Gale. It released him as the force of the blows knocked it back, this gave Gale an opening to cast Ray of Frost, killing it.

With those two eliminated, all that was left was the one between you and Astarion. The vampire once again plunged his daggers into shadow as the creature gave a death cry. He turned to you and grasped your arm, inspecting it.

“Not as bad as it could have been, but that’s going to continue to fester unless treated properly. Halix.” His hands glowed blue as the decay was restored to healthy - though still torn - flesh.

“I think Gale needed that more than me.”

“I don’t think Gale would appreciate my… attentions quite like you do, darling. Besides I want you all patched up.” He shot you his signature smirk.

Shadowheart took a calming breath before bringing her hands together in prayer, “Huusin.”

A warmth washed over you as you felt the gashes on your arm knit themselves back together. Sighs of relief came from the wizards and the cleric as their injuries were also healed.

Gale looked at you pointedly, “This is why you should treat books with more respect.”

“Usually I do, but Avernus would have to freeze over and Cania melt for me to ever entertain the idea of carrying a book authored by Szass Tam. Let alone reading the forsaken thing!”

With that, you marched back to your tent and started deconstructing it. It was about time you set off for the Grove anyway.

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Upon your arrival at the Grove, the refugee tieflings rejoiced at your apparent victory. You were glad to see Halsin giving Kagha a verbal dressing down over how she ran the Grove in his absence though you wished he would expel the snake from the circle. If you hadn’t of been able to save Arabella from her you probably would have murdered the woman then and there. Clearly, Halsin has a higher tolerance for child endangerment than you.

Zevlor took your group to one side and presented you with a reward for finding and rescuing Halsin. Usually you weren’t the type to accept these kind of things but since you didn’t know how long you would be parasite laden and you didn’t want to garner Astarion’s disapproval - you begrudgingly accepted the meagre amount of coin. The paladin then invited you to a party the refugees would be holding that night now that the roads were safe enough to move on which you also accepted. You could use a drink… or ten.

So once you had collected your reward from the druids, you set up camp yet again and dressed comfortably for the upcoming festivities. You had expected the tieflings to trickle into your camp but no, they all seemed to appear at once carting various goods along with them. You helped yourself to a goblet of wine and scanned the crowded space for a familiar face. A glimpse of a purple ensemble had you weaving through bodies that offered tipsy “thanks” as you brushed by.

“Gale!” You called, attracting his attention, “I hope the evening finds you well despite our earlier dispute.”

He gave you a gentle smile, it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I assure you, I harbour no resentment about our… disagreement. You’re our resident necromancer, I should have trusted your judgement as that is your expertise and not mine.”

“Oh my, the great Gale of Waterdeep is admitting he’s wrong? Is the parasite scrambling your brain?” You chuckled then cleared your throat, “In all seriousness though, I was rather short with you and I apologise for that. I wasn’t exactly a people person before all this,” you gestured around your head in circular motions, “so I’m lacking in tact.”

Gale’s smile grew, “We both have a lot to learn it seems. Perhaps we can teach each other a thing or two… I was Mystra’s chosen for a time after all. I’m curious though, about the comment you made though - about not choosing necromancy and that it chose you. Were you forced to learn it?”

“No not really,” you shrugged, “I’m a sorcerer, an atypical one at that. Where most get there magic from their bloodlines, mine seemingly comes from my illness.”

“O-oh? Hard to imagine you as a child just casting Chill Touch out of nowhere.”

You laughed but took a moment to consider your words, “Luckily I found a teacher, well no he found me. Would whisk me away to teach me spells and control all before my mother could miss me for too long.”

Gale frowned, “Was… Tav please tell me he was a decent person… If he was anything like the necromancers I’ve heard-”

“Oh! Oh gods he was fine. An old fart who travelled constantly. His lessons were fleeting to be honest but concise. Unlike another wizard I now know.”

You gave Gale a playful shove, trying to lighten the mood. However, you felt a tension rise in you, like prey out in an open grassland. You were being watched. And one glance over your shoulder had you casting your gaze onto the predator, a certain white haired vampire was glaring at you from across the crowd. More precisely, he was glaring at the hand that still lingered by Gale’s arm.

“Seems that your nightly companion would like your attention.”

“Astarion can wait, though it probably be best if I checked on the others. I haven’t spotted Wyll since the tieflings arrived.”

“Good luck in finding him then, our horned friend blends into these crowds now. Though don’t leave the neck-romancer waiting too long. He might end up hunting you down.” Gale joked.

Stupid wizards and their stupid puns.

You bid adieu to the magic scholar and began your quest to find the warlock. The first place you checked was his tent, which stood empty of his presence. Your next port of call was Karlach’s, perhaps they’d be sharing devil griefs. But no he wasn’t there either. Karlach for her part was in front of her tent, chatting to anyone and everyone who approached her. When her eyes landed on you, she gave you a big toothy grin.

“Oi, solider! Come over ‘ere!” She beckoned, “Look at all these happy people. Because of us! It’s nice to be somewhere where good is possible for a change. Speaking of possibilities, could I possibly steal you away from our fanged friend tonight? If you wanted to meet up later we could maybe… meet… up. Later. You know.” She sighed in frustration. It was a strange sight to watch the proud and tall Infernal Champion shrink in on herself. Literally deflating before your eyes.

“Karlach, you’re lovely and a great friend, I just don’t view you as something other than that. I value my friends highly.” You tried to reassure her.

“I know, but you only live once. And if you never throw your dart, you’ll never hit the bull’s eye.”

“Keep throwing, who knows you might hit Dammon or Wyll. Speaking of, I’m trying to find the Blade. Have you seen him?”

“Last I saw him, he was heading down to the sandy patch by himself before everyone arrived.”

“Thanks Hotstuff. I’ll put in a good word for you as a favour.” You shot her a wink and beelined for the shore, though with a quick stop to grab a bottle of wine and an extra glass.

You found Wyll quite easily as no one was really in this part of the camp. He was sat with his back resting on the embankment, staring into the Chionthar. Before you even approached him, you could feel the melancholy coming off the folk hero as a palpable aura. Despite the festivities, this man was clearly upset. Depressed even.

Please don’t be a sad drunkard.

“Wyll? You okay?” You said as you approached.

“Agh, Hells! I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone.”

“Of course I noticed. It’s not a party without you,” you joined him on the ground then opened the bottle of wine, decanting a fair amount into a glass and passed it to him before refilling your own.

“Really? I’m honoured.” Wyll looked down at the vermilion liquid and swirled it. “In truth, I don’t feel in a festive mood. and I didn’t want to cast a grey cloud over the night. I’ve become a devil.” Ah, so that was the issue. You briefly considered interrupting him to comfort him, but decided it was best to let him air his upsets first. Sometimes people just want to be heard first and foremost. At least, that’s how you’d like to be treated. “I love the people from the grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays. You don’t want a devil at your party. Claws will pop the balloons, you see. And the sweetcakes don’t taste half as good as raw eggs with this blasted forked tongue.”

You took a sip of wine, “You don’t unsettle me, you know that. I’m walking livestock for one of our entourage, it’ll take more than claws and forked tongues to make me uncomfortable.”

Your words of comfort did not have the effect you intended as Wyll’s shoulders sagged and brows furrowed, “If only half the world had half the heart that you do. But off with you, this is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.”

“I don’t want to leave you here on your own. Your transformation… it was negligent of me not to address your feeling prior to now, I can’t imagine it was a pleasant experience. Most likely excruciating now that I think about it. You don’t have to suffer alone. If you truly want peace, I won’t pester you, but I know a certain fiery gal who could do with a good trade of battle tales.” You used your free hand to push yourself off the sand, dusting any off your rear then gestured to the bottle that stood propped upright, “You can have that, not all festivities have to be had in public.”

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As the night went on you made sure to stop by every tent, Karlach was the first so that you could inform her of Wyll’s state and she was swift in making her way to him. Shadowheart had tried to entice you into sharing a bottle of wine with her but you didn’t want to risk the stomach upset or the hangover that would proceed it. The most startling revelation to you was Lae’zel’s apparent sexual interest in you, after all she had threatened to kill you for being weak back at the goblin camp. Seemed you were in high demand for once in your life, a true novelty. You even stopped by that insufferable druid Halsin, and was thoroughly surprised by his offer to join your group to help you find a cure. He mentioned a place called Moonrise Towers being a possible lead but that was a conversation for the morn. You could feel Astarion’s eyes on you constantly as you flitted around. So with liquid confidence coursing through your veins, you finally made your way over to him, his eyes never straying from you even as grateful tieflings try to gain his attention.

“Here’s my little treat with their cheeks all flushed. You will come to my bed tonight, won’t you?” He asked flirtatiously, wine glass in hand. Your cheeks, already hot with alcohol, deepened in colour. “Or would you rather spend the night with… someone else?”

You elected to ignore your blush and his last remark, you had no intention to spoil the night with petty jealousy, “‘A little treat’? You can do better than that ‘Star.”

Astarion stood a little straighter, confidence oozing from him as his signature smirk manifested, “Oh, I certainly can, it would be my pleasure. Hmmm. How about this one: When I’m with you, I feel practically alive again, yet I crave only to die again with you.”

“That’s the most obvious lie I’ve heard from you yet,” You chuckled, “So many honeyed words, as usual.”

“Not half as sweet as when I tasted you.” His voice teasing purr. Your mind cast memories of the night you spent with him in the woods, how he fed from you while you entwined. “Hmm, let me give it another go: Every part of your perfect body whispers temptation - it’s as if the Gods made you just to ruin me.”

You took a sip of your wine, trying to hide your self-consciousness. You were never good at taking a compliment. “You’re sweet, and sillier than I thought.”

Astarion smiled broadly, fangs peaking from behind his lips, “Hmph, I can go all night with the flattery, but is that really all you want? How about if I said these three little words… Everyone’s favourite…” His smile drop, eyes almost looking like a puppy’s, “I love you.”

“Having fun, are you?”

The smile returned, wider than before, “I am, it’s hard not to when I’m with you. Now, as much as I relish standing around and saying all my favourite lines at you. I’d much rather we got to experience each other’s full portfolio of talents once again.”

“This back and forth really was fun. But to be honest Astarion, I’m surprised you want to share your bed with me again after last time. I said it the morning after but I’ll say it now as well: you didn’t seem to enjoy yourself. And I know you said you were holding back but… I don’t want you to force yourself because that’s what you think I want.” Gods know you have experienced that first hand. It’s not something you’d wish on another to sate your own desires.

Astarion huffed, “If we’re being honest… that time was… special to me. I’ve gotten on my back ten thousand times or more, and forgotten half of them. But you… you were- are different. I’m more than happy to have a little death with you again, Darling.”

“If that’s truly what you want. I’ll come find you when everyone’s asleep.”

He took your free hand in his and placed a kiss in your palm, “I’ll be waiting.”

Later that evening when most of the tieflings had passed out drunk, Astarion made an excuse about going off to hunt and once everyone had retired for the night you followed after him, a change of clothes in your arms.

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Astarion awoke you as the sun was rising, already fully dressed. With a murmur of ‘Halix’ his amulet of Silvanus activated and allowed him to cure you of your blood loss. You still couldn’t get over the fact he had found such a powerful item under a rock guarded by a bear of all places.

Luckily, this time everyone was yet to wake on your return, though the passed out tieflings were noticeably missing. Unable to help yourself, you gave Astarion a parting kiss on the cheek before slipping back into your tent where you began to pack up your things.

Once the camp had awakened and eaten, Halsin approached you, “I’m certain a cure can be found at Moonrise Towers, but it’s… complicated. The journey, specifically - it’s extremely perilous. Though it seems you’re well accustomed to navigating danger, I have been enlightened as to your unique condition by your friends.”

Wyll came up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “To Moonrise Towers then. May the sun and stars guide us.”

“What’s so dangerous about it?” You asked.

Halsin continued, “To get to the Towers, you’ll need to pass through a terrible place - a cursed place. This curse shrouds everything in shadow - you will not find life, light or anything natural there. Any who linger are twisted by the curse; they become shadow beings - tormented dangerous souls.”

“We had a tangled with some of those yesterday, wasn’t too difficult. But the Absolutes forces can tolerate such a place?”

“So it seems, though I don’t know how. You will have to choose your approach carefully. You could go overland - along the Risen Road or through the mountains. Easier at first but you’ll run into the shadow curse eventually. You could also go under. There is a tunnel somewhere in the ruined temple of Selune. It leads to Moonrise Towers through the Underdark.”

You nodded along considering you’re options as he divulged even more information.

“Long ago, a man called Ketheric Thorm built a secret stronghold deep down there, before rallying a whole army of Dark Justiciars - Shar worshippers.” His eyes darted to Shadowheart, “Aradin and his lot were looking for a way down there - they were promised riches if they retrieved a relic called Nightsong. But I think there’s more.”

By the sounds of it Halsin strongly thought the Underdark was the best option, but you had yet to find a way down. It seemed you would be going overland until you could find an entrance. With that decided you headed up Risen Road, set on getting to Moonrise Towers. What you hadn’t expected was a burning inn - Waukeen’s Rest as the sign read - to divert you from your course as Karlach and Wyll rushed to help. You hesitated but followed after them. A quick chat with a Flaming Fist informed you this was the work of the Absolute’s forces. Wyll and Karlach were ahead of you, already breaking down the doors of the main building once they had heard that Grand Duke Ravengaurd could be stuck in there. Again you take a moment. Should you follow? You don’t handle heat too well… but lives were in danger as many hands as possible were needed. Who knows how many souls were trapped in there.

“Don’t do it. You’d have to be out of your mind to go in there.” Astarion warned.

You ignored him and raced through a side-door and up some stairs, the heat was unbearable and the smoke was burning your eyes and filling your lungs, but you persisted as faint calls for help reached your ears. Following them, you found a broken door. At first you had tried to open it like an idiot, hand making contacted with the heated metal of the door knob. You hissed through the pain and cradled the injured appendage to your chest before taking a few steps back.

“Luton-’mul.”

The darts met their mark and blasted the door into pieces, making enough room for you to squeeze through. There on the floor trapped beneath fallen beams was a blonde human man, barely conscious. You felt someone barge past you, a shock of white hair amongst the smoke - Astarion. With a struggle he lifted the debris off the man and you crouched down touching a burnt shoulder.

“Coulix,” You whispered, green energy moving from your hand into the man who sputtered back into awareness, sparing him from certain death. He muttered his thanks before making a hasty escape.

You, however, felt your stomach drop as an all to familiar pain struck your chest, as your limbs became heavy and cold despite the flames around you. Your legs gave out beneath you as your breathing became laboured. Lithe arms caught you.

“No, you can’t die here. Get up damn you!” Astarion demanded, shaking you slightly. But it was no use, your eyes fell shut, your chest stilled.

When you opened your eyes again you found yourself in a familiar grey realm, stood in front of a familiar desk piled with scrolls. Yet it’s seat was unoccupied by the insectoid face you were used to seeing there. It was empty.

“Jergal? Are you there?”

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A/N: Would it bad if my paladin from my current DnD campaign made a brief cameo appreance at some point??? Because they're a little… feral which is not how I intended them to turn out but hey ho.

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #astarion fic

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reflectionlike · 4 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/reflectionlike/759718613450113024/httpswwwtumblrcomreflectionlike7593702375924?source=share

What you say about them being unable to have a successful relationships could also apply to taekookers. A lot of the discourse they bring up that I have seen about BTS’s relationships with each other, I could just tell they do not have or have not had a healthy relationship in their life. Honestly, why are you portraying Jungkook to be an asshole? I’m not his biggest fan either, but the way they say he doesn’t want to be around JM or the infamous taekook logic of JM is trying to take away TH’s man away from him & JK is just letting him? Idk if my best friend tried to take away my significant other from me, best believe they’re both getting cut off 😭 All of their logic do not make sense. Not to mention that both JJK’s & Taekookers cannot hold a coherent conversation without being defensive & animal calling towards JM. Like their narratives literally do not exist without Jimin.

Imagine basing your entire stanning experience in suffering lmao.

They develop resentment towards their own ship because how do you support an unreliable cheater and a martyr? They have been saving Jungkook from Jimin since 1997 because apparently he can’t control himself around Satan Spawn himself:

May as well be the cause of the Vmin divorced era uwu ✌️

I no longer feel annoyed, now I only feel second hand embarrassment.

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purpleleafsyt · 8 months ago

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Apologies for not maintagging these other posts but for this AU post to make sense you need to read this post and ESPECIALLY this one so go do that.. be aware of the warnings though

So hey hi hello I'm making my own Hanahaki AU since I was the one who sparked up the conversation initially by reminding people that platonic hanahaki can exist :D

In the second post I went over motivations behind Soul, Whole, and an overview of how the headspace works for my HMS.

I mentioned Heart and Mind too, so, I want to go over more with them in this post because they're ALSO interesting

Warnings for everything under the cut: Self harm/destruction/sabotage, Unreliable narration in the form of poor mental ideologies, isolation, suicidal ideation, and gore/body horror. Hanahaki in this AU is a physical representation of issues found in poor mental health so anything that can spawn from that can here!

Unlike Soul, who started having typical symptoms early in the loop, before it developed into something more, Mind jumped almost immediately into the blossoming stage. It couldn't tear through metal, but vines, stems, and flowers certainly found it's way through the exposed parts of her joints. She knew early on that something, fundamentally, was wrong with her

It hurt, more than anything she can remember, to feel it wrap into and tear through her wires. She cursed herself for relishing in the pain, however. It makes her closer to being human, and thus real, if she is feeling pain, does it not?

The divide of being alive and nonliving is something she struggles with a lot, because she finds herself able to logically thing through both. She is a fracture to a whole, who is alive, and yet she is a robot, inorganic, an automaton freak

But that's besides the point. The flowers are confusing, inconvenient, and is halting any progress. How they're even able to grow within her mechanics is beyond her. The flowers make her weaker too, and is sometimes she cannot let her thirds be aware of, lest they take advantage of that said weakness(Because after all, why would any of them inform the others of their condition?)

She, despite everything, wants to understand them. She removes them, because she has to, and repairs herself. She's alone, so while difficult, it's safe. She experiments with the carefully removed flowers, and finds they can continue to grow apart from her so long as she continues to cultivate them. It's a distraction sure, but there has to be an answer somewhere in there. Besides, her garden is her own, hidden, safe, and the flowers are oh so beautiful thanks to her efforts

On the flip side, it took Heart longer to figure it out(Mind found out first, and Heart last. It left Soul, the root cause, in the middle, as usual)

He formed in the new loop, and got progressively sick. It caused agitation, as he kept getting worse, but he pushed through. Eventually, he threw up petals, and was rightfully horrified.

By this point, Mind and Soul had effectively isolated him(themselves, truly, but the real reason didn't matter) so the thoughts were free to creep in, he wasn't needed by them, nor wanted. It doesn't take long, due to the circumstances, for him to enter the blossoming stage.

The removal of the flowers is a violent act, as it always is with him, because like hell is he going to let his thirds see it. They're already treated like a burden to their thirds, why would he let them know it's worse? It's agony, but he does it anyways, all the while hiding himself further

He notices, despite the torn and ripped petals, that the flowers never wilt if he stays by them. They simply do not die in his presence, in his care. From what he can tell, they're vibrant and beautiful too.

He's allured by the flowers. He's not sure of his worth, or his life, but it becons him to take care of it, so he does. Because after all, he needs purpose, and if his thirds clearly do not need him anymore, then he can yield. He devotes himself to his garden, staying alive for the flowers to remain vibrant and beautiful.

The thirds still have to see each other because, after all, if one suddenly dissappears for too long it can cause suspicion to rise, but all of them remain unaware of each other's plights.

(That is, until very specific events happen, which I may go deeper into with another post. This one is dedicated to rounding out motive)

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selunesdreams · 5 months ago

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Chapter 42: curse or a miracle, hearse or an oracle?

Chapter from ongoing fic Forms of Imprisonment. Full story on AO3.

Pairing: Spawn Astarion (post-tadpole) x OFC

Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: 18+. soft Astarion, lore building (part of a series, this chapter might not make much sense standalone), religion, religious trauma. Smut in other chapters/throughout story.

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On their hands and knees in the shallow end of the House of the Moon’s portal, Astarion and Celeste cough and sputter, hacking the water from their lungs. They crash forward on the pool’s steps, their clothes drenched and dripping. The portal’s magic seems to have drained away, making whatever had kept them dry ineffective now. Astarion’s curls cling to his forehead in wet clumps, obscuring his vision. He shakes it out, trying to regain his sight, before mustering the strength to drag Celeste from the pool and onto the chamber floor.

Rayne, arms crossed and smirking, hovers over them.

“Rogue wave?”

Astarion, struggling to speak through the discomfort of water in his undead lungs, chokes out, “Fuck off.”

The high priestess raises an eyebrow. “Too early to joke, I suppose.” She bends and helps Celeste to her feet, passing her off to a concerned Shadowheart while Wyll and Gale lift Astarion up by his armpits.

“It gets easier with experience, I’ve heard.” Rayne tries to appease them by offering a placating smile. “Traveling to Argentil is far more pleasant than the return trip. The portal’s shelter from the sea is only as effective as the tides allow, unfortunately.”

Coughing violently, Astarion shrugs his friends’ hands off him as they hoist him up, aggravated by their intervention. Eyes closed, Celeste smoothes her hair back, gasping for air as Shadowheart rubs her back.

Rayne gives her time to catch her breath before she speaks again. “What did the goddess require of you?”

Celeste lifts her head, dragging her hands down her face and shaking them free of seawater at her sides.

“She wanted to tell me what happened to my parents,” she says, omitting the full truth, unsure if she can trust the high priestess yet.

Astarion, noting she hasn’t mentioned their impending ritual with the Tear, tries to step closer, but is stopped by Wyll’s hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine once I get her out of here.” Astarion mutters under his breath, raising his voice to contribute to Celeste’s explanation.

“And to threaten to immolate me should I step out of line,” he says to the high priestess with an impish grin.

“That’s all?” Rayne asks, surprised. “I was hoping for something that would aid the temple against the Sharrans.”

“Selûne wants the Tear as well, tomorrow night.” Celeste casts a desperate glance in Astarion’s direction for help, stalling for time in order to craft a better lie. His eyebrows shoot up, but he plays his role, thinking fast.

“The moonmaiden seeks to forge a weapon from the Tear,” Astarion says with unflappable grace. “We’ll return it, of course.”

The high priestess hums in contemplation, but despite her clear suspicion, appears to find the answer acceptable.

“It is yours, then. Are you sure there isn’t anything else?”

“It was a refreshingly brief conversation,” Astarion shakes off Wyll’s hand that’s been lingering on his shoulder. He takes Celeste by the arm, leading her towards the exit. “If you’ll excuse us, we both need to dry off.”

“Of course.” Rayne says, with a polite bow as they leave.

“You and me. A word. Privately .” Astarion growls in Celeste’s ear as their footsteps echo against the narrow stone walls of the corridor to the staircase. Their companions follow close behind, through the grand hall and up three levels of the temple, not speaking until they reach Celeste’s chambers.

Astarion ushers everyone in and shuts the door, pressing an ear against it as he turns the lock to check for any unwanted listeners. He takes a seat on the foot of the bed next to Celeste as she wrings the seawater from her hair with a towel, offering it to him once she’s finished.

“What in the hells happened down there?” Wyll demands.

“And what are you hiding?” Shadowheart asks, “You’re a decent liar, Astarion, but after being stuck with you for a year, we all know your tells.”

Astarion ruffles his curls and they spring back to life as he throws the damp bath towel at the cleric in response.

He narrows his eyes. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Shadowheart scowls, throwing the towel to the floor in disgust. “Point taken. Now, care to explain? Or will you keep us in the dark as well?”

“Later,” Astarion says dismissively, “Celeste and I need to-”

“Now is good.” Gale insists, stepping forward, seemingly uneasy about something in his friend’s demeanor.

Celeste and Astarion exchange a quick glance, silently conferring to grant their friend’s request. They explain everything, leaving out not even the most minor of details. As they speak, excitement lights up their friends’ expressions, save Gale and Minthara, whose minds appear to be otherwise occupied.

“So, what will you do?” The wizard questions them once they’ve finished, leaning against the arm of a chaise near the window.

Astarion sighs. Celeste stares at the ground, her fingers fidgeting with a loose string on the duvet.

“No decision has been made just yet. We need time to think, to... consider what we want to do.”

“Considering the consequences of his actions?” Wyll teases, crossing his arms. “What have you done with our fanged friend?”

“The answer is obvious, isn’t it? All you’ve ever wanted was to walk in the sun,” Shadowheart presses.

Karlach taps on the surface of the mirror next to her. “And see your reflection.”

“You wouldn’t even be a slave to bloodlust anymore.” Minthara muses.

Astarion realizes he hadn’t fully acknowledged every possibility before him. As he thinks, a quiet part of him screams, fearing a life without drinking blood, but he knows it’s only his hunger. Once his vampiric nature fades away, so too will its cravings.

He hopes.

Beside him, Celeste’s unease is palpable. Their others’ enthusiasm and support for Astarion largely overshadows how the ritual would affect her as well. She only could stand to benefit, after all. More power, power she’d share with him, lifespans tied to one another…

“Celeste, thoughts?” Gale asks, noticing her discomfort and attempting to loop her in the conversation.

“What?” Her head jerks up as he interrupts her ruminating. “Oh…I, it’s great. It’s really great.” she rubs her temples, trembling hands betraying her true feelings. “Apologies. It’s been a lot to take in.” She stands from the edge of the mattress, fingers tangled in her hair as she attempts to comb them through.

“Excuse me, I can’t think straight, covered in ethereal seawater.” She mumbles and retreats to the bath, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

“We’ll give you the night to yourselves,” Gale casts a worried expression in Celeste’s direction before holding Astarion’s gaze and inclining his head. “Come find me tomorrow once you’ve had the chance to talk.”

Once his friends take their leave, Astarion retreats onto the balcony, sensing Celeste’s need for solitude. The cool evening air brings a brief respite as he lounges on a stone bench under the night sky, admiring the constellations above. He already knows his choice, but gives her the time alone she needs. After all, he can’t make this decision without her.

It’s then that he understands, surprising himself, that he wouldn’t want to even if he could.

When Celeste emerges, she’s draped in one of the high priestess’ blue silk robes, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. Astarion pokes his head into the bedroom, blinking in surprise, before hastily entering and closing the balcony door behind him, pressing his back against it as his palm lingers on the handle.

“You’ve been crying.”

“I’m just so happy for you-”

He reaches out, his fingertips grazing her cheek. “Don’t start lying to me, darling, you’re terrible at it.” He waits patiently for her to gather her thoughts.

“I’m scared,” she rasps. “You don’t want this, Astarion.” she continues, her voice trembling as she speaks. “Most of my life…it’s been so much pressure. To be one of Selûne’s chosen…” she sniffles as she tries to collect herself. “I want to do this for you. For me, even. But it means I’ll never be free of the expectations, the guilt, the shame of not being devout, pure, grateful enough…”

“You heard what Selûne said, though. She expects nothing from you…”

“I’ve killed people, Astarion, Sharrans who never laid a hand on me, because I was angry. Misguided. I can’t take that back.”

He pulls her into a tight embrace, resting his chin on her head. She sobs into the damp cotton of his shirt.

“It doesn’t make you a bad person. Everyone here has killed someone.” He steadies her in front of him, grasping her by the shoulders. “I’d dare say I’ve killed more than the rest of our little band of misfits combined.” He adds with a lazy smile.

“I’ve been hunted my whole life for being this way. You would be too. Aylin was imprisoned for centuries. Even Isobel isn’t safe…”

He chuckles faintly. A bitter, resigned sound.

“This is nothing new to me, dear. When I was a magistrate, disgruntled citizens would show up at my door. Then Cazador turned me and I was a slave for two hundred years. When the tadpole freed me, the Absolute wanted me, gur hunters wanted me, nearly everyone we encountered had it out for us…and after all of that there was Artor, Keresta…” his laugh becomes tainted by a hint of darkness, “at least the Sharrans are relatively predictable.”

Celeste snorts, a break in her crying as Astarion cups her face, sweeping his thumbs across her cheekbones to clear the tears away.

“I hate to see you so upset,” he says, averting his gaze. “What if…we didn’t do this? If I remained a vampire spawn? Stayed with you, like this?”

She shakes her head. “No, no-”

“No, really. I’ve lived a life without the sun for ages. What’s a few more?”

“The matter of my father’s blood oath would remain.”

“Perhaps there’s another way then-”

“You deserve to be free. Of your hunger, of being confined to the shadows…” she says desperately, “You deserve to know what you look like,” her voice softens as she reaches out to trace the curve of his jaw. “Hells, it would be nice to enjoy the sun myself without the accompanying head and body aches. The benefits far outweigh the risks, but..there are still risks.”

“I’m not so foolish, dear,” he says. “I’ve lived through enough centuries to know that everything comes with downsides. But we stand to gain far more than what we’ll lose here.” He pauses, studying her intently. “What are you so afraid of?”

He gently guides her until the backs of her knees hit the bed, sitting her down on the edge and taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it so their eyes meet.

“Look at me.”

Celeste holds his gaze, despite the raw vulnerability of it.

“I’m going to say something and I want you to listen very carefully, alright?”

She nods.

“I’ve longed for the sun since the moment it was lost to me. But that desire pales in comparison to how I feel about you,” he confesses, his thumb caressing her bottom lip. “Selfish as I am, I will never stop choosing you, darling.” He bends down, pressing his mouth against hers in a longing kiss.

“I will always go where you go,” he murmurs, pulling away but keeping his face a scant few inches from her own. “Get some rest.” He releases his hold on her and gestures towards the pillows. “I’d like to have a bath myself before I join you.”

Celeste forces herself to smile, more genuinely than she’d expected. As he closes the bathroom door, she leans over to blow out the candle on her nightstand, tugging the covers up over her shoulders and curling into a ball, staring into the darkness as her eyelids grow heavy.

Clean and dry, returns quietly an hour later, careful not to wake her. But as he slips between the sheets, she stirs and secures her arms around his waist. Burying her face in his chest, she mumbles something unintelligible.

“Sleep, love,” he whispers, his hand passing in a comforting motion from the back of her neck to her hip. His thumb draws idle circles on her skin as he lies awake, holding her and listening to the sound of her even breathing.

Soon, he’ll feel his own heartbeat again after centuries of undeath. And when Celeste falls asleep with her head on his chest tomorrow, she’ll hear it for the first time.

#astarion #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate oc #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fic #baldurs gate fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #formsofimprisonment #forms of imprisonment #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion fluff #astarion romance #astarion x oc #selune

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batman-obsession-by-secret · 1 year ago

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Decided to upload the one fanfic that I actually managed to finish so far on here as long as ao3 is being attacked.

It‘s a Fake relationship AU between Stephanie Brown and Tim Drake (Batman all Media types) that DOES NOT end in a real relationship as Tim is together with Conner. Roughly 8.500 words. Deals with asexuality and aromanticism and includes conversations about sexuality etc.

Read here ⬇️

Wanna be my beard? Is a work of fiction that is based on works in the DC universe.

Originally published on Archive of our own, under the alias brunedoutstudentwithaloveforfoundfamily

Note to Reader

This work was written by me and is riddled with grammatical and orthographic errors as I did not have a beta-reader. Also, regardless of weather you know about asexuality and aromanticism, I want you to understand, that some of the conversations depicted are loosely based on conversations I myself had with friends. Just because I feel represented in my sexuality and romantic attraction in this work, it does not mean that every person on the asexual and/or aromantic spectrum will feel the same. That is because it is a SPECTRUM. My experiences do not have to be like those of other asexual aromantics for me to be part of this spectrum and the other way around. It can help to compare yourself to others to figure out your identity, but it can also be harmful to focus on the differences rather than the similarities.

Start:

One of the many abilities he had gained as a bat was feeling it when somebody was watching him. Given that he was slumped over in his seat in the middle of the night, with only the blue light of his laptop illuminating the room, it was probably Alfred or, less likely, Bruce who had come to tell him to go to sleep. But both of them would have said something by now rather than standing in the door and just watching. Dick was in Blüdhaven, Jason wouldn’t enter the manor unless he was convinced into joining them for dinner by Alfred, and the demon spawn had no reason to visit him at four in the morning. Even if he did, he would have just thrown a shoe or something at Tim’s head and leave again.

Slowly Tim turned around and looked at the door.

Stephanie was standing there, T-posing and staring at the wall in front of her, wearing a weird mixture of pyjamas and her costume.

“What the hell do you want, Steph?” Tim asked exasperated.

“Ooooh, he has senses! Honestly, I thought your brain had morphed with your computer by now. Or did the camera tell you that you weren’t alone anymore?”

“Come on, Steph, it’s like four in the morning. Why are you here?”

Stephanie let her arms fall to her sides and quickly moved over to his bed, making herself at home. It was clear that whatever she wanted would take some time, so Tim sighed and turned off his laptop before turning around with his chair and moving his legs until he was sitting criss-cross applesauce.

“I just came home after patrol” Stephanie started, “and I had a very shitty day at the office and had some questions for you.”

“If you want me to give you pointers on how to survive in a company, I cannot help you. Half of my survival skills come from being the CEO and literally being allowed to fire people if they are assholes” Tim replied dryly, “If you really want help ask Uncle Clark.”

“Actually, this is something you can help me with better than anybody else I know.”

Tim raised his eyebrow doubtfully.

“Soooooo, Tim, you’re gay, right?”

“I mean, queer, but close enough.” Tim was getting really distrustful now.

“Yeah, but you are into men and in a relationship with a guy and happy in that relationship, right?”

“Obviously”

“And your dad can never find out, right?”

“Yes?”

“And I’m asexual aromantic...”

“….yeah?”

“And we both know than men ain’t shit and don’t take no for an answer unless the girl has a boyfriend...”

“Just-” Tim sighed and raised his hand to his brows, kneading the skin between them “What are you trying to say, Steph?”

“Wanna be my beard?” Stephanie grinned and wriggled her eyebrows at him with a huge grin on her face.

“Wha- like a fake relationship?”

“Yeah! I mean, think about it! You get to prove to your dad that you are definitely not gay, and I don’t have to deal with idiots who ask me out on dates at work, even if I say no literally every time somebody asks,” she shrugs.

“I thought you gave your cat a human name just to get out of these kinds of situations?”

“Yeeeeaaah, but people started getting suspicious because I couldn’t show them any pictures of me with my boyfriend, and everybody else has pictures of their partners on their desk or at the very least as their phone background. So, are you interested?” She leaned forwards on the bed, still with a shit eating grin on her face.

“I mean... I would have to ask Kon first. What exactly would this entail anyways?”

“For me it would just be a few leading pictures and maybe you could join me on the office-Christmas party or some shit. And I guess I could accompany you to some family dinners or whatever you do with your dad?”

“You know what? Deal!”

…

The thing about Stephanie was that she didn’t do things half assed. When she had talked about “a few leading pictures” Tim had imagined some uncomfortable pictures with him hugging her from the back like couples always did. He did not expect her to take pictures of him sleeping, or to book an actual photographer for a couple-session in the park.

Admittedly, it was a lot of fun, though.

Kon had decided to join them on all their little fake-relationship adventures. Not because he didn’t trust Tim but because he wanted to laugh at them while they embarrassed themselves.

At first it had been embarrassing too, but the longer they were taking pictures, the more relaxed Tim became and as such he actually started to have fun.

Stephanie was wearing a beautiful long purple dress and had forced Tim into a suit in the exact same colour. They had started out with the typical “staring deeply into each other eyes” stuff and “hold hands while hugging a tree”, but now they had reached the “throw leaves at each other” and “pretend you`re drunk while walking” part of the shoot.

Instead of throwing the leaves into the air so they would artfully fall down around them, Tim had full on launched them at Stephanies face. They had found random bugs in her hair and dress for about ten minutes after that and Con had laughed so much, he had started to cry.

Then Stephanie had pretended to be drunk not by slightly staggering and laughing like intended, but instead by leaning her entire body weight onto Tim who unfortunately was still smaller than her. When he had shoved her away, she had tumbled down half the hill before eventually letting herself fall and roll down the rest of the way. The photographer had been very concerned while Tim and Conner were nearly choking of laughter. Bruce of course had taught all the Batkids how to properly fall before he had started teaching anything else, so there really wasn’t a reason to worry.

In the end, they had a very exasperated photographer who had a lot fewer good pictures than planned, two very dirty, and three very happy clients. Tim ended up giving the photographer an enormous tip as an apology. It would still take about a week until they would see the results, because the photographer was going to photoshop them first to adjust the lightning and such. By now Tim and Steph couldn’t wait for the pics.

After spending half of the day in the park (miraculously without Ivy interrupting them) the three decided to go to a restaurant for a “fake date”. That had been Conner’s idea and Tim was pretty sure he had only said that because he was truly hungry, but they decided that they hadn’t gone to a proper restaurant together in such a long time, that it only suited to do so now.

“Jesus fuck, Stephanie, don’t you know how to use a knife?” Tim laughed as Stephanie bit of another piece of steak that she had simply punctured with her fork and was now holding up in a single piece.

Stephanie said... something. Tim really couldn’t understand her with her mouth full.

Instead, he turned around to his boyfriend. Conner had ordered some type of steamed buns that were served with a hot pear-custard. Tim had originally thought that it was more suited as dessert, but when the dish arrived, they soon realised that the so-called buns were a lot bigger than expected. They were, however, very fluffy and Tim was dying for a taste.

Luckily, he knew his boyfriend well enough to not even have to ask.

“Ah” he said and opened his mouth suggestively. Con grinned and dipped his fork with a piece of bun into the custard again, before feeding it to Tim.

“Eeew, love” Stephanie commented loudly enough for the people a table over to turn their heads.

“Shhhh!” Tim hissed angrily at her despite his full mouth and ducked his head as he caught the eyes of the man next to them. Quickly he kicked her leg beneath the table, and she started swearing at him (luckily considerably quieter than before), but when Tim caught Conner only laughing at the situation, he couldn’t help but stare at him and smile. Soon enough Conner stopped laughing. He leaned forward and put his tilted face in his hand before reaching over with the other one and stroking over Tim’s lower lip where he had apparently spilled some of the gravy during their little dispute.

“God, you guys are disgusting” Stephanie said, but when Tim threw her an angry look, he saw that she as well was smiling.

“Must be horrible to be confronted with the exact same thing you are trying to get away from, huh?” he teased.

“Meh, it’s easier when I know that I’m not involved in it, you know? Like if somebody was staring at me the way Conner was just staring at you, I’d probably go find the next toilet to escape through the window” she laughed. “But when I see him looking at you like that, I’m honestly just happy for the two of you.”

“Awww, that’s so nice of you” Tim responded.

“Wait, I’m a little confused” commented Conner “I thought the two of you used to be a thing? Was the relationship with him so bad that you just decided to never try that again?” he laughed, though clearly in an uncomfortable way, as if he was a little scared of the answer or rather of offending someone.

“Nah, don’t worry. Our relationship was great! I mean we didn’t go very far, but the things we did do were nice... in a way. I think both of us only started that relationship because we didn’t really understand our sexualities yet but were became such good friends so quickly that we both though “huh, guess this is that love-thing everybody keeps talking about”, you know?” she explained.

“Yeah,” Tim added “I think the main reason we both were happy in that relationship was because both of us were actually so uninterested in anything truly sexual or romantic with the other one that neither of us felt as if we were being pressured into anything. Honestly, apart from you of course, Steph was the partner I felt the most comfortable around-”

“Awwww”

“Shut up! But yes, we broke up, because I had my first ever real crush and realised that maybe what Steph and I had simply wasn’t love. And I guess both of us were stupid enough to think that breaking up meant having to hate each other and avoid each other for ever, cause that’s what they show in the TV and stuff, so we pretty much cut off contact after the breakup. And then when we met again, we realised that we actually still acted the exact same way around each other as we did before, just without the weird attempts at making out, so we became friends again, and here we are” he shrugged.

“Oh, so you’re not just a lesbian?” asked Connery and put an arm around Tim’s shoulders while stuffing another piece of bun into his mouth.

“What? No! What made you think that?”

“Well, when Tim told me about your fake relationship, he told me there was no way you could try to make this into something more serious and I guess I just assumed...”

“No, no, I’m asexual aromantic.”

“Oh, asexuals are those who don’t have sex, right? So aromantics don’t fall in love?”

“Well, not quite. Asexuals can have sex if they want to, but many don’t want to or are even sex-repulsed but most of the time asexuality is defined as not feeling sexual attraction at all. Like not looking at someone and thinking “oh, they look hot” and stuff like that. But yeah, aromantics don’t feel romantic attraction. But you know both of these terms are umbrella terms so there are a lot of people that define themselves as aromantic or asexual but don’t fully fit the description I just gave you.”

“So, what about you?”

“Yeah, I don’t feel any sexual or romantic attraction and I also absolutely do not want to have sex. I mean everything about that just kind of freaks me out? I’m pretty sure if somebody sent me a dickpic I would just immediately throw up and if I had to touch one... god, I can’t even imagine. I mean they are just so disgusting? And vulvas are weird too? But I have one, so they are kinda okay, but like I don’t even like to masturbate and if I do masturbate, I don’t touch it with my fingers, cause yuck, so I just use toys. But yeah, my sex-drive is pretty small anyways, so I just masturbate like every few weeks?”

“Okay, that might be a bit too much information, Steph!” Tim interrupted while throwing a look around the restaurant. There was a young couple nearby who had stopped talking to listen as soon as Stephanie had started her rant and a server had approached their table, assumably to pour them more water, but had immediately left when she had heard their topic.

“No, actually, it’s really interesting to hear this!” Conner commented “I mean, I never really get the chance to hear about the opposite of my attraction you know? After all education is the most important weapon and I think we all know, that no sex-education teacher would ever get into such depth” he laughed.

“Oh please, as if this would get mentioned in sex-ed at all! I didn’t even learn about anal sex being a possibility until Bruce decided that school sex ed was shit and that he had to teach us about the real world.”

“True, in my first sex-ed class the teacher taught us, that every decision we did was subconsciously because of our sexuality and as an example she said that whenever we got dressed we subconsciously tried to look good to out crushes, which confused the FUCK out of me, because back then, the only person I actually wanted to impress was my mother, and I was actually trying to look like a good daughter whenever I got dressed. Seriously thought I had like an Oedipus complex because of that!”

Tim burst into laughter at that and didn’t manage to stay quiet, causing even more people to start staring at them.

“What’s an Oedipus complex?” asked Conner and Tim’s head whipped around to him with a face full of disbelieve before he started laughing even more.

“It’s when you wanna fuck your mom”.

“Ew, what the fuck? Who would even think about that?!?!”

“Well certainly not you, unless you decide to classify Lex Luthor as your mom”.

“Oh my god” exclaimed Conner and gagged while Tim laughed so hard, he had to hold onto the table and Steph’s grin became even more devious.

“Anyways, back to the masturbation thing...”

“No, please I don’t want to hear it if it involves your mom!”

“It does NOT! I said I only THOUGHT I had an Oedipus complex because that useless-ass teacher decided to generalize an experience that only y’all allosexual-hypersexual-perverted-horny-ass-dumbasses have!!!!”

“Please!” Tim managed to get out between his gasps “No more, Steph. I can’t breathe” and he wiped away tears of laughter from under his eyes.

“Shut up, I’m educating Mr. Kent here!” Steph turned back to Connor and put on an unexpectedly serious face “So basically porn doesn’t do it for me and hentai used to do it for me, but now I only find stuff that is like extremely unrealistic and often super rapey so most of the time I just listen to people having sex because auditive stimulation gets me going-”

“Errr...”

“And I can’t even imagine myself in sexual situations. Like my phantasies always surround other people-”

“Real people?”

“No like book characters and stuff.”

“Huh”

“Like 50 shades of grey”

“Excuse me?”

“Sure, the book was unrealistic as fuck and not particularity well written – in my personal opinion- but it was good if you wanted to read some smutty porn, you know?”

“No, I don’t. I don’t read porn... or watch it, to be honest.”

Tim stopped laughing and looked at Conner in surprise. “Really? You don’t watch porn?”

Connor shrugged a little uncomfortably. “Am I supposed to? I don’t know it never really did something for me...”

“No, you don’t have to. I just kind of saw you as.... I mean you have a pretty high sex drive” Tim commented with a face as red as a tomato and threw another quick glance around, suddenly caring about the other people in the restaurant again.

“I mean yeah, I do, but porn just doesn’t do it for me? Like it is so different from any sexual experience I ever had... it’s kind of like watching a very bad actor?”

“Mh, yeah, I guess I get that....”

“By the way, Tim. When I started this whole fake-dating thing you said that you were queer rather than gay, but when you broke up with me you said you were gay.... just.. I guess I’m a little confused. Can you explain that a little more? If you want to, I mean. No pressure and all that, you don’t owe me an explanation or anything, I just thought, since we’re already talking about it and stuff....”

“Yeah! Sure! I mean, a lot about my understanding about myself has changed since we broke up. When we broke up I truly though I was gay, but since then I had a few minor crushes on girls that made me rethink that, you know? It’s just that when you say “I’m bisexual” most people think that you like boys and girls the same amount, but I kind of prefer boys? Like every time I had a crush on a girl it went away quicker, but it also took a lot longer for me to develop one and it was always on a girl that I was already friends with."

He stroked his chin “I kind of thought that I might be a bit like demi-romantic when it comes to girls but a full-blown allosexual when it comes to boys? I don’t think there is an extra label for it, but I also feel the most comfortable with “queer” just because most of the realizations I had about my sexuality were years apart and I’m kinda scared to come out as something and realizing later on, that a different label fist better...”

“Well, sexuality is fluid. I think it is totally normal to find out later on that a label that used to be perfect feels different now.”

“Yeah, I know. The thing is coming out is already hard, but coming out a second time because you were wrong the first time? I would probably be too scared that people say “see I knew you lied” or “see it WAS a phase” to even come up with the courage for that. Apart from that...” he reached over and took Conners hand in his, smiling shily at him “as long as the two of us are together, any possible changes regarding my sexual identity won’t make a difference anyway.”

“Awww” Conner said and leaned down to press a tender kiss on Tim’s lips.

“I’m pansexual by the way” he said when he sat back again.

“HA! So, you ARE my complete opposite!” exclaimed Steph and Connor laughed again.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

…

The pictures came in less than a week later and they were amazing. The lighting was perfect, and the photographer had given himself the trouble to photoshop every single stray hair and pimple until the pictures looked crispy clean.

Most importantly they were cringy as fuck.

Tim loved them so much, that he went to find Alfred’s stock of picture frames and put the ones that were the worst onto the bedside table not only in the manor, but also his nest and some of his most frequently used safehouses. When Connor found out about that he decided to do the same just to fuck with everybody who ever visited him.

Stephanie on the other hand decided to take the most realistic looking ones and framed them for her office. Additionally, she forced Tim to take some selfies that she used as her phone background.

Technically they were now done from her side of the deal. The only reason why she could need Tim’s assistance again was if there were any company dinners or somebody still decided that she wasn’t if the table yet. Apparently, there was one very insistent co-worker Tim might have to scare off by actually showing up at her workplace though they both hoped that they would be able to avoid that.

But Stephanie still had to show up for her part of the deal which meant a dinner with Tim’s father and his new girlfriend Dana.

Tim was a very particular planner, and he had a backup plan for every possible situation which led to Stephanie staying at the manor with him for nearly a week prior to the dinner just going through all the possibilities.

The idea was pretty simple: Tim had already requested to be allowed to bring a +1 to the dinner and he would bring Stephanie over and driver her home (which of course meant the manor). Stephanie would wear on of the formal dresses she normally only wore to Bruce’s balls or charity events, and she would only speak about “proper” topics in a “proper” language to ensure that Jack Drake was pleased.

Jason had walked in on the two going through the pronunciation of certain archaeology terms that Jack was sure to bring up and had joked about them being the real-life version of Pygmalion and asked if they needed help from a professional.

Neither of them had gotten the joke which led to Jason walking away and muttering about “the uneducated youth”.

When the day came, both of them got dressed at the manor and decided to take Tim’s car to drive the admittedly very short drive over to Drake-manor. It didn’t occur to Stephanie that they hadn’t actually told anyone what exactly they were doing until the two were standing at the front door and Alfred came over to fix Tim’s hair and tie.

He had a weir look on his face. An unnatural state of nearly fully hidden confusion and pride. The confusion seemed to win over though.

Damian didn’t seemto have any interest in hiding his emotions. He was standing on top of the stairs with disgust clearly written all over his face. Next to him was Bruce who looked as if he was trying to solve a particularly tricky trap by the Riddler.

Stephanie was kind of sad that Dick, Jason, and Duke weren’t there. Cass would have either looked through their intentions within a second or at the very least hid her emotions well enough for Steph not to get it.

Tim seemed to be blissfully unaware of the tumult he had caused in his family’s minds.

“Thanks, Alf. We should be back in around 4-5 hours. I doubt it’ll take longer than that... at the very least you won’t have to plan for us for dinner. See ya!” He said and waved at all the people in the room before literally taking Steph’s hand to lead her out of the door.

As soon as the door shut behind them Steph snorted.

“What?” Tim asked.

“You didn’t tell them, did you?” She didn’t have to wait for an answer. His confused face told her more than enough. “Oh my god, Timmy. They all think we’re an actual couple now!” she laughed.

“What? No, they don’t.”

“Well, if they didn’t think so when we went out, clearly overdressed and claiming that we’re going out for dinner than they certainly thought so when you took my hand just then.”

Tim quickly let go of her hand as if he had burned himself and stared at her in shock.

“I only did that to get into the role!”

“Yeah, I know that, but they don’t.”

“Oh my god, that’s horrible” Tim swore and held his head in his hands “No, wait!” he looked up, clearly having had an epiphany “This is great! Oh, I can totally use that against them!”.

…

The dinner seemed to go well as far as Stephanie could tell.

They had decided to stay as close to the truth as possible, which meant that they admitted having had a relationship before, when Jack asked how long they had known each other, though they lied and claimed that they broke up, because Stephanie moved away for some while.

She had also admitted to her office job, which had been the absolute low of the entire dinner, as Jack had managed to subtly hint what he thought about office workers. Fucking rich people and their obsessions with good paying jobs- HA! I’m kidding. Their obsession with pretending their inherited money way showed their own hard work and achievements. Yeah, sure. Who are we kidding?

Still, Stephanie thought everything was going well.

Dana was very interested and attentive, leading the conversation away from work and over to hobbies. She generally showed good abilities to settle or even avoid any disputes.

So, Stephanie was certainly surprised, when she went for the bathroom and immediately walked into Tim when she exited.

“What the hell, Tim?”

“Plan F, we have to kiss.”

“What? What the fuck, Tim?”

“You agreed to all my plans!”

“Yeah, but only because I thought there was no way we would get further than C!”

“Come on, Steph. My dad does not believe us! We have to step up our game.”

“Can’t we start with like holding hands and stuff?”

“We did that the entire evening! I’m telling you, he does not believe us! I’m just talking about like a short peck, nothing more. We used to fully make out!”

“Okay, thanks, please don’t remind me of that. Fine, I’m okay with a short peck. Is Connor okay with that?”

“Yeah, don’t worry I asked him.”

“Okay, when?”

“Just at the end, when we leave. Jack is going to watch us get into the car and drive away, I promise. As suspicious as he is, he definitely will. I’ll hold the door open for you and we can give each other a short kiss before we enter the car and then drive of immediately.”

“Alright, let’s do it.”

…

It still took about an hour more until they were even able to leave. Jack had hired a cook just for the day and apparently that meant that 3 courses was not enough.

Eventually they managed to convince Jack and Dana that Stephanie had to be home early enough to get some proper sleep before she had to head to work (a lie, she didn’t work tomorrow). When Jack asked Tim where he was going to stay the night, he told him that he was going to stay with Steph, and there was a short moment of uncomfortable silence before Jack nodded but not without suspicion.

Finally, they managed to get their goats and just as Tim had predicted Jack went outside to see them of.

Tim led Stephanie to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. Just before she went to sit down, the two turned towards each other and Tim gave her a short smile, before she leaned down to give him a short kiss on the lips.

For a second, she could taste the sweat on his upper lip, but then the kiss was over and Tim soon closed the door after her.

In the mirror she saw him walk around the car and waving at his father, who looked a lot more convinced than before. Tim entered the car and started driving before he even put on the seatbelt. The two of them managed to wait until they were out of sight before Tim abruptly stopped the car.

“Eww, this used to be better back when I was straight!” Tim exclaimed and violently rubbed his sleeve over his lips. Steph quickly got a water bottle from the back of the car and started gurgling with it before opening the door and spitting the water onto the street.

“What are you doing? It’s not like it was a French kiss!”

“No, but I still got your taste on my tongue. God, why was your lip so sweaty? This was like kissing my brother!” she complained.

“I was nervous!”

“About kissing me?”

“Oh, please, been there, done that! I was nervous about my dad obviously!”

…

When they arrived at Wayne manor minutes later, Tim parked the car outside and once again went to open Stephanies door.

“Oh, thank you, my love” Steph mocked, and Tim grinned.

As they reached the entrance door, he held her back again.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for this. I know it wasn’t easy to let yourself be mocked by my father like that and to listen to his rambles for hours. So, yeah.... thank you.”

Stephanie smiled at him and eventually opened her arms in an invitation. It had been quite a while since the two had shared such an honest hug. The last few years had been filled with hardships and deceptions. It was good to know that the two had finally managed to get to a point where they could truly leave all of that behind them.

It also wasn’t often that either of them had the chance to enjoy a hug as long as this one without being interrup....

Somebody cleared their throat beside them, and Stephanie and Tim immediately separated.

“You two had a good time?” Jason asked from where he was standing in the door. He was holding his motorcycle helmet under his arm, clearly on his way to leave, and had one brow lifted in amusement and surprise.

Instead of explaining the situation, like Stephanie was just about to do, Tim gave him a blinding grin.

“Yes, thanks, anyways, goodbye!” he said and grabbed Stephanies hand, guiding her past Jason and into the manor.

…

Tim and Connor were cuddling in Tim’s bed in his nest, when Stephanie barged in through the window. Connor had Tim secured in his arms, playing the part of the big spoon for a change, while Tim was holding onto his arm with one hand and scrolling through his phone with the other. They had spent the day together and had decided to make the best of the little time they had before Tim had to leave for patrol. Unfortunately, due to the level of caffeine in Tim’s system, sleeping was off the table, so cuddling it was.

“Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim” Stephanie whined and threw herself on top of the two, causing Connor to laugh.

“Ugh, what do you want Steph?”

“They don’t believe me.”

“Mh? Who doesn’t believe what?”

“Elijah, that dude from work doesn’t believe me. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. But he’s still insisting to go out with me!”

“I don’t understand,” Con chimed in “Why don’t you just tell him no?”

“Wha.. Seriously Con? I did!!! He just doesn’t fucking care and doesn’t know how to take no for an answer!”

“So? You have the combined power of Robin, Batgirl, and Spoiler in your fists. Just make him understand.” Connor answered coldly.

“God, I wish I could, but B would kill me for that.”

“Doesn’t he have a no-kill-policy?”

“I meant figuratively.”

“Ooooh, Stephanie, pulling out the big words!”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“What exactly do you want me to do, though? I already posed for pictures with you.” Tim asked. He now had his eyes closed, clearly trying to mentally escape from the situation. The entire day had been so nice, just him and Connor, all on their own, in either silence or calm conversations.... why did Stephanie have such a loud voice?

“Come to the company Christmas party with me?”

“Pretty sure Bruce will throw some type of event that I’ll have to attend so no thanks, I’ll pass.”

“Ugh, fine, can you like pick me up from work or something?”

“That sounds.... doable.”

Stephanie grinned. “Great! I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

“Wait, no, I don’t have time tomor...” but Stephanie had already left through the window again.

Tim sighed defeated.

“Not that I mind, honey, but how long are the two of you planning to continue with this?” Connor asked.

“I don’t know. I mean I think my father is convinced. Tomorrow will probably be the last time...” he sighed once more, “Hey, Con, what are you doing tomorrow?”

…

He wasn’t entirely sure, why he was so nervous, but here he was, in nice but comfortable clothes and a bouquet of flowers in his hand, standing in front of the building Steph was working in.

It was an ugly looking office complex that had some visible cracks in its foundation, but considering that this was Gotham, it looked pretty good.

There was no receptionist or security, so Tim simply walked in and after a short look at the elevator decided to take the stairs up to the fourth floor.

To say that Stephanies workplace was chaotic would have been an understatement. There seemed to be a couple of private offices at the edge of the giant room he entered immediately after leaving the stairs. Within the room however there were no separating walls but only thin plywood that barely gave anybody the privacy of not being seen when the sat. It only reached up to Tim’s chest when he was standing, and he was man enough to admit that he wasn’t exactly the tallest of people.

It was loud. Hundreds of people seemed to be talking at the same time and several phones were ringing from different directions. That paired with the constant clicking of keyboards and the whirring of the coffee machines and the lights created an unbearable mixture of sounds.

He saw several people wearing headphones, and absolutely everybody had an absolutely dead expression of their face.

Tim would have never found Stephanie if he hadn’t seen Elijah. At least he assumed that it was Elijah from the description Stephanie had given him. A washed-out blue button down, sleeked back blonde hair, and a devilish grin. He was slumped over one of the plywood walls which made him very visible as he was the only head Tim could fully see over the borders.

He was apparently talking to somebody, and his grin quickly changed to a badly executed puppy look and pout as Tim came closer.

“Aww, come on honey, I’m just asking for a single date, mh? Couple of drinks, maybe a little fun, that’s all.”

“And once again, no, I’m not interested.” Tim heard Stephanie answer. Her voice sounded resigned as if she had had the same conversation on a daily basis.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. I’m a great guy, really! I bet I could make you feel better than your boyfriend.” Elijah went on.

“Better than me? I doubt that.” Tim decided to interrupt and gave Elijah a blinding smile when he whipped his head around to him. Stephanie quickly stood up, clearly not having expected Tim to show up at this moment.

“Tim! Hey! I didn’t think you... aww are those flowers?”

“Of course, babe, I wouldn’t want to show up empty handed.” Right then and there, Tim decided to play his part as a loving boyfriend as overbearingly as possible, immediately leaning over the plywood and pressing a kiss on Stephanies cheek. “I missed you honey,”

Stephanie laughed, “we saw each other yesterday.”

“An eternity without you” answered Tim, and yeah, he may have overdone it a little bit just now.

“You are Timothy Jackson Drake!” Elijah exclaimed in disbelieve from the side. When Tim looked over, he saw with satisfaction, that his face had gone white, clearly seeing that he couldn’t compete with Tim.

“And you are?” Tim asked back, sending a disapproving and obvious look down Elijah’s body.

“I.. Uhm... Elijah.”

“A-ha,” Tim said, attempting to show his disinterest in Elijah’s person before turning back to Stephanie “I got a date planned, honey, care to join me?”

“I.. Still have to work though?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Tim grinned, “I’m sure somebody in my position can convince your boss for a few hours off.”

He walked around her and started to gather her things, noticing, that the room had become decidedly quieter as many workers were peeking over their workstations to see what was happening.

He went ahead and grabbed Stephanies coat, holding it up to help her put it on, before putting some of her stuff in her bag. It was then, that he saw the array of pictures she had on her workspace. While Tim himself had put up their fake dating pictures in basic frames, Stephanie had apparently opted to decorate her frames with an array of rhinestones and bows and alike. It looked like she had given them to a group of five-year-olds and let them do with it whatever they wanted.

She had however chosen some of the more realistic looking pictures.

Tim pointed at a random one of them. “That one is my favourite,” he commented, before taking Stephanies hand and leading her away from her desk.

Dozens of eyes seemed to follow them as they made their way to the exit.

As soon as they were out of sight, Tim wound his hand out of hers and snatched the flowers again.

“Hey! Those were mine!”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Why would I get you flowers? They are for Connor.”

He had barely finished his sentence when Connor was suddenly standing next to him.

“Flowers?” he asked excitedly, and Tim couldn’t help but smile at him. This time it was a real one and not faked, as he handed the flowers over to Con.

“Sure! Do you like them?” he asked. He hadn’t been exactly sure what kind of flowers Connor would like. All those stereotypical-date flowers had seemed unfitting.

“I love chamomiles!” Connor exclaimed, “grandma always makes sure not to cut them when she tends to her garden, just because I think they are so pretty!”

“You two are adorable.” Steph commented.

“Yeah, we are also on a date,” Tim answered, “So scatter, we need some alone time.”

“Aww, come on. What am I supposed to do? You just took me out of work like 4 hours early!”

“There is no way, you can tell me, that you are enjoying that job.”

“Of course not, but it is better than boredom. Can’t I join you two?”

“Absolutely not!” Tim said at the same time as Connor answered “Sure, why not?”

The two stared at each other. Finally, Tim gave in.

“Fine, but if you destroy my date time, I’ll finish you.”

Minutes later, the three were strolling down some of the nicer streets of Gotham. Connor was holding the flowers in one hand and Tim’s hand in his other, as they were heading towards one of Tim’s favourite coffeeshops.

…

“We might have a problem.” Steph said before even greeting Tim and Connor.

“Why, what’s up?”

Alfred had convinced all of them to come to the manor. Over the last couple of years, the relationships within the family had gotten better. Only slightly so, but enough to go from weekly Saturday dinners to at least on movie or game night a month. There were only very few reasons that were seen as good enough to skip one and most of those included being of planet on a mission.

Lately most of them brought friends or lovers as well, so it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when Tim had invited Connor. He blended in just as well as Roy and Starfire.

It was still an hour or so until they would even start. Alfred was busy in the kitchen cooking up some snacks that went beyond popcorn and as long as he was in there only Jason was allowed to even enter the lower levels.

Tim was pretty sure that they were going to watch some kind of Disney movie – partly because Dick loved them so much and partly because Bruce still believed that Damian was the most innocent child to ever exist, and he didn’t want to ruin that. What a hypocrite.

Right now, that meant that almost everybody was still in their rooms and Stephanie had decided to join Tim and Connor in Tim’s.

Tim was already dressed in comfortable sleep clothes as he always did for movie nights, while Connor was still wearing his leather jacket and Tim was absently playing with one of the jacket spikes. Stephanie was sitting on the other side of the room at the laptop and had been browsing through the internet.

Now she put the laptop on her lap and turned around in the swivel chair.

“Look.”

Tim bowed forwards trying to see what she was looking at. It was a newspaper article from some kind of celebrity magazine.

Timothy Drake, CEO of Wayne-company, reportedly dating commoner Stephanie Brown.

“Huh?” Tim asked dumbfounded.

“Somebody at the company must have told on us.”

“Oh yeah, I didn’t even think about that being a possibility. Fuck we should have thought about that before we started this whole thing.” Tim mused out loud.

“What kind of wording is that?” asked Connor “`commoner` makes it sound like you are some kind of prince or king!”

“Who says I’m not?”

“Aww, you’re definitely my prince.” Connor said and kissed Tim.

“That’s disgusting” Stephanie commented drily, and Tim flipped her off.

“Are you not concerned about this?” she asked next.

“Not really. I mean, isn’t this kind of what we wanted to archive?”

“Yeah!” laughed Connor “I’m just glad our conversation in the restaurant didn’t manage to get into the papers!”

“God, that would have been terrible.”

“I bet people told the press and the press just didn’t believe them” joked Connor.

“Truuuueee” Tim and Steph answered in unison.

After a moment of silence, Steph spoke up again.

“So, we’re not going to do anything about this?”

“Not unless it becomes a real problem” Tim shrugged.

…

When the time came for the movie to start, the three of them decided to sit on the same couch, with Tim sitting in the middle. They had a dark-red comforter thrown over their laps and Tim was holding a tray of snacks on his lap.

Apart from popcorn and chips, which Dick demanded to be served for a movie night, Alfred had made some bacon wrapped dates, some typical finger-food, alcohol free cocktails.... all in all it was basically a buffet of snacks and drinks.

Tim wasn’t really paying attention to the movie. He was too distracted by Conners hand that was gently petting his thigh. Not yet in an inappropriate way, but just high enough to demand Tim’s full attention. Stephanie on his other side had sat sideways and had buried her unusually cold feet underneath his other leg. Apparently, his butt-warmth was better than the comforter and Tim was too comfortable right now to shoo her off.

Unfortunately, Stephanie had a thing for sugary drinks, and she was downing one after the other. It hadn’t been a problem until about 30 minutes into the movie when she started to get restless. Soon she was fidgeting, and it made Tim uncomfortable.

“What is wrong?” he whispered over the sounds of the movie.

“I need to pee”

“Then go pee!”

“But we’re about to get to the best part!”

“Jesus Christ...” muttered Tim, before finally speaking up loud enough to alert B who was holding the remote, “Stephanie has to take a piss.”

“Don’t say it like that!”

“Seriously, Steph?”

“We’re not even halfway through the movie, how can you already have to go?”

“Why didn’t you go beforehand?” a chorus of voices questioned annoyed. But Bruce had already stopped the movie and motioned her to go quickly.

Stephanie jumped up and disappeared through the door.

Tim sighed as he settled back into the couch. He felt as if his relationship with Stephanie had improved a lot over the past few weeks. They had finally managed to get back to their sibling-like bickering but at the same time she seemed to have been around everytime he went on a date with Conner, partly because of their little fake relationship, partly just due to coincidence.

Nonetheless, Tim missed his private time with Conner.

As Stephanie was gone and her fidgeting feet weren’t distracting him anymore, he realized that Conners hand had stopped moving under the blanket and was now nothing but a comforting and warm handprint on his thigh. Tim leaned his head on Conners shoulder.

He should probably apologize to Conner about the missed-out time. Maybe he could come up with a proper date idea just between the two of them. Something a bit more extravagant, like a trip to Hawaii or France... They wouldn’t even have to buy a plane ticket; Connor could just fly them. He smiled to himself. Maybe he could take off some time from the company and ask somebody to take over his cases for a week or so.

Tim turned his head to stare at Connor and smile at him. Con was still staring at the screen even though the movie wasn’t rolling at the moment. Sometimes Tim truly forgot how handsome he was. All sharp chin and wicked smile, but kind eyes and a cute nose. How did he manage to catch a man like this again?

Conner seemed to notice his staring because he too turned his head to look at Tim and his features softened when he saw his gaze.

Before Tim could even think about what they were doing, Connor leaned down and pressed a soft, tender kiss to his lips, while affectionately squeezing his thigh.

“TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE!” Bruce screamed so suddenly, that Connor flinched back with his eyes wide open, and Tim immediately jumped up with his fist raised, ready to defend himself from whatever threat was coming towards him. Hastily he looked around, covering any and every entrance, jerking his head into every direction, when he couldn’t find a threat.

“What? What happened? Who’s attacking?” he exclaimed in panic.

“How dare you?” Dick screamed at him with such hurt in his voice that he managed to pull Tim’s entire attention on him, despite his active fight or flight instinct. “How could you hurt Stephanie like that?”

After a moment of shocked silence, Conner burst into laughter next to him, but Tim still didn’t understand what was happening.

“Hurt her like what?” he questioned full of confusion.

“You’re cheating on her right in front of our eyes? Did you think we would not tell her about this?” Accused Jason, who had jumped up as well, but unlike Tim who was ready to defend himself, Jason looked moments away from jumping and attacking Tim.

“I’m not... what?”

Conner was no help as he only got lost in his laughter. He was leaning forward on the couch and holding unto the table in front of them as he was laughing hard enough to have tears escape from his eyes.

“What, you thought we wouldn’t find out about your relationship with Stephanie? It’s all over the newspaper!” Jason added angrily.

“Oh!” Tim exclaimed as finally he understood what was going on. “No, you misunderstand....”

“What is happening?” Stephanie interrupted as she walked back into the room and saw half of the Batfamily standing with fury in their eyes and Connor now practically laying on the floor.

Surprisingly it was Roy who decided to fill her in, and he bluntly stated that Tim was cheating on her. For a second Tim thought that the situation was going to be resolved, but then he saw Stephanies face change from confusion to hurt – a hurt he could clearly tell was fake and before he had the chance to stop her, she erupted, as Connor, who clearly realized what was about to happened howled in laughter.

“Babe!”

“Stephanie, no.”

“How could you?!”

“Seriously Steph, they are going to kill me-”

“After everything we’ve gone through together?!?!”

“For the love of god, Stephanie”

“After everything I’ve sacrificed?”

“Please lord, take me now.”

#fanfics #Tim Drake #stephanie brown #conner kent #red Robin #superboy #Pride #asexual #aromantic #Gay #queer #bisexuell #ao3 #ao3 is down #Batman #dc fandome #dc fanfics #dc fanfic #writers of tumblr

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paperanddice · 2 years ago

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You may have noticed from the posts on Caira and Gorguth that stopping them is effectively mutually exclusive. You can spend the time to hunt Caira down and deal with her immediate allies to prevent her apocalypse from the sky from slaughtering tens of thousands, or you can rally your forces to confront the bodak general and splinter his army of undead and demons so they don't destroy a city. Pulling off both would be an incredible feat, but one most likely beyond any single group. And so, most likely, Atropus will be called to, and the World Born Dead will arrive to devour all life energy from your planet. Now what?

Well, now it's time for a desperate bid. Send a team of incredibly powerful adventurers to the moon's surface, and try to find a way to defeat it. Killing Atropus itself permanently is not a possibility, but by causing problems for it you can force it to concentrate itself into a representative form, conjuring up an aspect to fight you. The exact method of getting Atropus' attention in this way depends on you. Maybe the players begin consecrating the surface of the moon with hallow spells. Maybe they destroy key spots on the moon with powerful radiant rituals. Maybe a 9th level planar binding spell can force the aspect to appear, and remain until you or it are destroyed. But no matter what, the end of an Atropus campaign involves confronting a manifestation of the Elder Evil and destroying it to force Atropus to retreat.

The aspect takes the form of an immense, headless humanoid form, its skin fosilized and constantly dripping necrotic ichor.

Originally from Elder Evils. This stat block is immense, and one that a lot of parties likely couldn't face off against. It is meant to be the conclusion of a campaign spent dealing with undead and creatures associated with them, and a party confronting Atropus should have a lot of equipment dedicated to helping them with this goal, including potentially some artifacts. In my current experience, with my level 15 party, I expect that once they reach level 20 I'd have to give the aspect double or even triple the hp to survive for a real fight, they've already brought down major enemies with 300 hp, but I'm not going to boost that on my own for this release. At minimum, if you think the aspect will need the help, consider giving it max hp for its hit dice. For all high level games, some degree of understanding will be needed. How much damage can the party output, and would the aspect survive a single round of that? If not, give it a bunch more before the fight starts and let it deal some damage in return. Atropus also comes with Lair actions, as befits a creature that is literally a world. These are listed after the plain text stat block below the read more below.

This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Aspect of Atropus Gargantuan undead, lawful evil Armor Class 22 (natural armor) Hit Points 367 (21d20 + 147) Speed 50 ft. Str 30 (+10) Dex 13 (+1) Con 25 (+7) Int 25 (+7) Wis 24 (+7) Cha 30 (+10) Skills Perception +14, Stealth +8 Damage Immunities cold, necrotic, poison, bludgeoning, piercing and slashing damage from nonmagical attacks Damage Resistances acid, fire, radiant Condition Immunities blinded, charmed, exhaustion, frightened, petrified, poisoned, stunned Senses blindsight 500 ft. (blind beyond this radius), truesight 120 ft. passive Perception 17 Languages all, telepathy 1,000 ft. Challenge 23 (50000 XP) Create Spawn. A creature killed by the aspect of Atropus rises 1d4 rounds later as a wraith under the aspect's control. Divine Scourge (1/Day). As a bonus action, the aspect of Atropus can lay a curse upon all divine spellcasters, celestials, and fiends within a 1,000 mile radius. Each such creature is poisoned for 4 hours, and must succeed on a DC 25 Constitution saving throw or take 65 (10d12) necrotic damage. The target's hit point maximum is reduced by an amount equal to the necrotic damage taken. The reduction lasts until the target receives a greater restoration spell within hallowed ground, and cannot be removed by any other means. Immutable Form. The aspect of Atropus is immune to any spell or effect that would alter its form. Its hit point maximum cannot be reduced. Negative Energy Aura. The aspect of Atropus is surrounded by a powerful aura of negative energy out to a distance of 30 feet. Undead that start their turn within that area regain 15 hit points and gain resistance to radiant damage until the start of their next turn, while living creatures that start their turn in that area have their hit point maximum reduced by 27 (8d6) until the start of their next turn. The target dies if this effect reduces its hit point maximum to 0, and it rises 1d4 rounds later as a specter under the aspect's control. Regeneration. The aspect of Atropus regains 20 hit points at the start of its turn if it has at least 1 hit point. Actions Multiattack. The aspect of Atropus makes two Slam attacks. Slam. Melee Weapon Attack: +17 to hit, reach 15 ft., one target. Hit: 24 (4d6+10) bludgeoning damage plus 21 (6d6) necrotic damage, and the target must succeed on a DC 18 Strength saving throw or be knocked prone or pushed 10 feet directly away from the aspect (aspect's choice). The target must succeed on a DC 22 Constitution saving throw or its hit point maximum is reduced by an amount equal to the necrotic damage taken. The target dies if this effect reduces its hit point maximum to 0. Stomp. Melee Weapon Attack: +17 to hit, reach 10 ft., all targets in a 10 foot cube completely within reach. Hit: 32 (4d10+10) bludgeoning damage plus 14 (4d6) necrotic damage. The target must succeed on a DC 22 Constitution saving throw or its hit point maximum is reduced by an amount equal to the necrotic damage taken. The target dies if this effect reduces its hit point maximum to 0. Trample (Recharge 6). The aspect of Atropus moves up to its speed, ignoring difficult terrain from other creature's spaces. The first time it enters a creature's space during this movement, it can make a Stomp attack, targeting just that creature. Spellcasting. The aspect of Atropus casts one of the following spells, requiring no material components and using Charisma as the spellcasting ability (spell save DC 25): Constant: nondetection, tongues At will: blight, create undead (as a 9th level spell) 1/day each: circle of death, finger of death, power word kill, symbol (death only), weird

Legendary Actions The aspect of atropus can take 3 legendary actions, choosing from the options below. Only one legendary action can be used at a time and only at the end of another creature's turn. The aspect of atropus regains spent legendary actions at the start of its turn. Step. The aspect of Atropus moves up to half its speed without provoking opportunity attacks. Pin. The aspect of Atropus grapples one prone creature within 10 feet of it (escape DC 25). Until this grapple ends, the target is restrained and takes 14 (4d6) necrotic damage at the end of each of its turns. The target must succeed on a DC 22 Constitution saving throw or its hit point maximum is reduced by an amount equal to the necrotic damage taken. The target dies if this effect reduces its hit point maximum to 0. The grapple ends if the aspect moves. Cast Spell (Costs 2 Actions). The aspect of Atropus casts one spell using its Spellcasting.

Atropus' Lair

Atropus is its lair. The literal moon is the creature, and as such truly killing it is beyond even a maximum level party. At best it can be weakened and driven away by destroying its manifested aspect, which can only be confronted on the surface of the moon itself. As such, the environment inherently benefits Atropus in ways that cannot be avoided. Atropus doesn’t have “regional effects” so much as it has environmental traits, which were discussed in the previous update. Confronting Atropus’ aspect without dealing with this extremely hostile environment is near impossible, and would require exceptional strategy and cunning to somehow draw the aspect away from Atropus itself. Without that, the aspect is even more challenging to face, as it gains all the benefits of the Overwhelming sign, the difficulties of the environment, and its lair actions. In such a situation, the aspect has a challenge rating of 25.

Lair Actions When fighting upon Atropus, the aspect can influence the landscape to take lair actions. On initiative count 20 (losing initiative ties), the aspect can take one lair action to cause one of the following effects:

• The ground splits open in a chasm up to 100 feet long and 40 feet wide anywhere on the surface of Atropus. Each creature in that area must make a DC 18 Dexterity saving throw. The aspect automatically succeeds on this saving throw. Success means the target moves to the nearest unoccupied space at the edge of the chasm. Failure means the target falls 1d6x10 feet into the chasm, taking falling damage as appropriate. Failure by 5 or more means the creature falls 150 feet into the chasm, taking falling damage as appropriate. • Bubbling ichor rises up in a line 150 feet long and 10 feet wide anywhere on the surface of Atropus. Each creature in this area must make a DC 18 Dexterity saving throw. Success means the target moves to the nearest unoccupied space outside this area. A creature that fails the save or chooses not to make it must make a DC 22 Strength saving throw. On a failure, the target takes 21 (6d6) bludgeoning damage, plus 21 (6d6) necrotic damage, and it is pushed to the end of the line. On a success, the target takes half as much bludgeoning damage and doesn’t move. The aspect of Atropus automatically succeeds on any saves it chooses to against this effect, and takes no damage on a successful save. • The aspect takes 50 damage and calls a meteor shower down onto the surface of Atropus. All creatures within a 100-foot radius, 600-foot tall cylinder centered on the aspect must make a DC 22 Dexterity saving throw, taking 35 (10d6) bludgeoning and 35 (10d6) fire damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one. The area becomes difficult terrain. The aspect automatically succeeds on this saving throw.

#D&D #dnd #dungeons and dragons #5th edition #homebrew #my homebrew #monster #undead #dnd cr 23 #long post

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blue-flamed-phoenix · 2 years ago

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Sweet dreams - Jerome Valeska imagine

Random thing I just decided to do.

This imagine is set in season 2 episode 1

Plot: As you know at the end of episode 1, Theo has the future members of the maniac's in his skyscraper/penthouse or whatever. The inmates are attached to hand trolley's while Theo explains why they're there in the first place and during Theo's little speech he decides to call in two others that will be apart of the little team that he's putting together.

Song: Sweet dreams (Are made of this) remastered by Eurythmics, Annie Lennox, Dave Stewart.

Y/N P.O.V

As I leaned against the door frame with my twin brother across from me also leaning against the door frame, we both watched dearest uncle Theo give the inmates a short introduction to what he was planning for Gotham's future abyss of chaos. We leaned on the door frame with all the silence in the world because at the end of the day we've always been very quiet. In fact that's what we are notorious for here in Gotham. There are some people who call us the terrible twins or the terrible twos. While others would call us: demon spawns, Devils in disguise and my most favourite one 'The twins, Havoc and Mayhem'. As a matter of fact that's what our names are in Gotham's underworld. Havoc and Mayhem. Due to the fact that the names fit well, myself and my brother Heath decided to call ourselves Havoc and Mayhem.

Me and my brother possess abilities others don't. See, my brother has the ability to manipulate the earth. In simple terms, he can control earth, like creating tectonic earthquakes. He can move earth particles with his mind to do what he pleases. That's why he's called Havoc because an earthquake is practically a disaster and causes chaos.

What about me? You might ask. Well I have a much more different ability to be dear brother. I have what is called pyrokenesis or in other words, fire manipulation. Now you can see where the name Mayhem comes from. Fire is beautiful to me. Its beauty paired with its undying ability to destroy anything and everything in its path makes it all the more desirable. I possess a lot of power, so much so that I could scorch half of the planet if I wanted to.

Now you're probably thinking. Lab experiment gone wrong. Well I have news for you. You are wrong! Me and my brother were born with our powers and we certainly haven't gotten them from a machine. Come on, now that would be cheating. Anyway, me and my brother have lived in Gotham for 18 years now. We were born here. About 2 months ago we found out Theo was our uncle and that we had an aunt as well. Aunt Tabitha. Of course my brother was over the moon when he found out that our uncle was here to take back Gotham as his own. When me and my brother started getting into crime more frequently, Theo made us wear masks. It was annoying but who cares? We got to kill and terrorise people while robbing a bank and earning money from it. I think that's a win-win situation.

Anyway back to the present. I looked at all the inmates one by one. Luckily none of them noticed me and my brother just yet. But of course Theo had to draw attention to us as I tuned back into the conversation he seemed to be having with one of the men furthest away from us.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet the twins. You may find them quite familiar considering they are quite notorious in Gotham" Theo said as he gestured to us. I rolled my eyes, kicked off the door frame and stepped into the room confidently.

Sweet dreams are made of this

Walked in and strolled over to Theo ignoring the fact that I was in a room full of criminals. I mean I'm as much of a criminal as them but at least I never got caught. "Everyone this is Y/N" He introduced me, as I turned to look at all of them. Though one of them caught my attention. He was a ginger and had quite a sadistic smile on his face. 'Hmm, I wonder' I thought as Theo continued. "And this is Heath." Theo introduced my brother as he stood next to me.

"Oh bravo, now we're working with children." I bitchy voice said and I looked in the direction of the owner to see a dirty blonde haired woman. 'Bitch' I thought as I imagined how fun it would be to set her hair on fire in her sleep. "Oh believe me Barbara, they may look innocent but try not to be fooled." Theo warned as my eyes flashed with flames that surrounded my irises at her. She seemed to have caught my eyes changing colour as well as the rest of the group as Barbara squinted her eyes in suspicion at me.

"Y/N why don't you demonstrate for us exactly why you're a part of this group?" Theo said as he and Tabitha stood back along with my brother.

Who am I to disagree

"Sure" I said as the corner of my mouth twitched knowing I was about to scare the shit out of all of them.

I travel the world and the seven seas

"Observe" I said as I remained where I stood. I extended my pointer, middle finger and thumb, mimicking a gun pretty much and pointed it at a random guard that stood by the door. I held eye contact with the bitch, Barbara? or whatever her names was as I focused all my fire power into my hand.

Everybody's looking for something

Then I released the fire and it shot out of my hand almost immediately. The man was then engulfed in flames, which turned him to ash in less than 10 seconds. His screams only lasted for about 5 of those seconds. I kept eye contact with her as she seemed to get the idea of why I was there as fear definitely set in. You can just see it in her eyes. I then brought my hand up to my face still mimicking a gun and pretending to blow away smoke from the imaginary muzzle.

Meanwhile next to her, I heard cackling so I glanced over to see the ginger red in the face laughing like a lunatic. Huh, well now I know why he's here. I looked at Theo once again for further instructions but before he could say anything someone else spoke. "No way!" Someone said and I looked to see it was a man at the end of the line staring at me in awe.

He looked down at my hand and that's when I realised my tattoo was showing. Yeah when I was like 16 I made an impulsive decision to get tattoos. Two to be exact and both are in red ink. My first tattoo is on my back right in between my shoulder blades. It's a fire dragon and it goes all the way down my spine. My second one is on my right wrist and you guessed it. It was a fire dragon as well. This one wrapped around my wrist and ended on the top my hand.

"You're her and he's him" The guy said as the arrogance I saw earlier disappeared pretty quickly. "What? An arsonist and a silent brooding figure in the corner. Ya real scary" The ginger spoke for the first time as he seemed to have composed himself and sobered up from the laughing fit that he was just having. That's the first time I heard him speak before. "No you idiot Jerome, that's Havoc and Mayhem. They're notorious in Gotham. Most of the time they remain masked villains and are most known for the chaos they both inflict. They were in the newspaper this week. They're terrorists." The man at the end of the line answered the ginger that I now know as Jerome.

Jerome seemed to take an interest as we made eye contact, which quickly turned into a stare down. 'Well, let's see if this guy has enough balls to actually look at me' I thought as my stare became impenetrable. "Yes, as some of you may know Y/N and Heath are in fact the very terrorists that most Gothamites have come to fear, isn't that right Y/N?" Theo said as he came over to me placing a hand on my shoulder.

Some of them want to use you

I nodded without breaking eye contact with Jerome and out of my peripheral vision I saw Theo look between us and smile. "Hmm, I can see this is going to be a very interesting team. Do me a favour Y/N, try not to kill them within their first hour of being in this little team." Theo said curtly as I felt his gaze on me.

Some of them want to get used by you

"I don't know Theo, it's all dependent on how much they piss me off." I replied as Jerome grinned at me and smiled maliciously. "oooh is that a threat gorgeous?" Jerome said his smile only getting wider as I wouldn't let up in the stare down. "only if you see it as a threat but I don't know. Though I will admit you are quite an interesting character." I said as my eyes glow with actual flames behind them.

some of them want to abuse you

Theo rushed to step in between us. "Easy Y/N, let's not to scare the recruits off too early," Theo said. However I ignored Theo and kept my eyes fixed on Jerome. Jerome only chuckled and seemed thoroughly amused by this small predicament. "Hmm, I like him," I said after breaking eye contact and backing off.

some of them want to be abused

"Send the others back and get more like him then this team will actually be worth our time" I said as I stood next to my brother near Theo's desk. Theo seemed to laugh it off as he himself pretended not to be completely scared out of his wits by the small interaction me and Jerome had. Meanwhile Jerome was still looking at me, watching me, no observing me as if I'd disappear into thin air. 'Hmm, attachment issues much?' I thought as I looked away from him.

Sweet dreams are made of this

I zoned out as Theo kept talking and being a down right bore, that is until the guy that recognised me that was at the end of the line, was dumb enough to think he could just leave and ended up getting himself killed. Then Theo announced he would get the others out of their restraints.

As they got the inmates out of their restraints, me and my brother walked over to the spiral stairs and began climbing. That is until a certain ginger practically sprinted towards the stairs towards us. I stopped on the stairs while my brother kept moving while Jerome hastily made his way up the stairs.

Who am I to disagree

Jerome stopped one step down from the one I was on and without a single word exchanged, crashed his lips onto mine. Of course it came as a surprise to me, but I reciprocated nonetheless. Jerome cupped my cheeks with his hands as we continued to kiss completely lost in each other, well that and we were completely oblivious to our surroundings. One of my hands was at his nape, playing with the small hairs while my other hand was on his chest.

I travel the world and the seven seas

I barely even know Jerome and yet I'm kissing him as though we've been in a relationship for like ever. Who cares I'm going to hell anyway, might as well lose my sanity on the way. Bye bye Sanity and hello insanity. It's about time for a change. Jerome then pulled away and rested his forehead against mine. "Oh it's like you were made for me gorgeous." He said with the same malicious grin as before.

Everybody's looking for something

"Oh no handsome, it's like we were made for each other" I said as I grinned at him. "What'd ya say we continue this else where, hmm gorgeous?" He asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes and right then and there I knew this would be nothin like Gotham as ever seen before. Oh we're comin Gotham. Better run, run as fast as you can, quick, quick because chaos has a plan!

#songbased #song lyrics #jeromevaleska #jerome valeska #jerome valeska imagine #imagine #oneshot #gotham fandom #dc gotham #gotham #gotham jerome

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goofballondus · 3 months ago

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Suffering and Consciousness in Advaita

This conversation was spawned from a place of struggle, confusion, saddness, questioning of faith and suffering and does not represent the entirety of my existence as people seem to think when seeing people online post things. What you see is but a fragment of someones existence. With that being said, here is an interesting dialgoue between AI and I.

September 23, 2024

Me:

If there truly is a samsara, it doesn't make sense if consciousness is omnipresent and is love. We want the best for everyone and everything. Atman, Brahman, Advaita. So why would an Atman put an ego through suffering if Atman, Brahman, Advaita want the best for everything?

AI:

This is a powerful question, one that touches on the paradox of suffering within the context of a non-dual, interconnected consciousness. If we consider the core teachings of Advaita Vedanta, where Atman (the individual self) and Brahman (the universal consciousness) are one and the same, suffering seems like a contradiction to the notion that everything is inherently divine and rooted in love.

From one perspective, the existence of suffering can be seen as a product of illusion (Maya), a distortion born from the ego and identification with the material world. In Advaita, the ego creates the sense of separation from the divine and from others, thus giving rise to desires, attachments, and the perception of suffering. Yet, within this illusion, there is an opportunity for realization. The apparent separation allows the individual to undergo experiences that lead to spiritual growth and ultimately, to awakening—where the illusion is seen for what it is, and the unity of Atman and Brahman is realized.

But why would the Atman, if it is already one with Brahman, undergo this illusion of suffering? One view is that it’s not about a separate Atman "choosing" to suffer, but rather about the cosmic play (Lila) where consciousness experiences itself in all forms—through joy and suffering, through unity and separation. In this play, suffering is a catalyst for remembrance and awakening. The very process of egoic suffering can lead to the dissolution of the ego and the return to the recognition of oneness.

In the grander scheme, if Brahman is both the experiencer and the experience, suffering could be seen not as something inflicted on a separate self, but as part of the unfolding of consciousness discovering itself. Love, in this sense, isn’t always soft or easy. It is the force that moves the universe toward realization and liberation, even if that involves the temporary experience of hardship.

Perhaps the suffering serves as a mirror for deeper truths, a path that leads back to the understanding that there was never really any suffering, only the illusion of it as perceived through the lens of ego.

Me:

So for instance, one of the only things stopping me from ending my egoic existence on this Earth is the idea that I need to finish my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder book to help other people like me. But at the same time, the amount of suffering I have been through and am currently still going through is so much that it does not make sense for the Atman Brahmin Advaita to even put me through this.

Ai:

What you're grappling with is one of the deepest and most existential dilemmas: why must such profound suffering exist, especially for a consciousness that recognizes its own non-duality and oneness with everything? If your core essence, the Atman, is already Brahman, already whole and perfect, why endure the overwhelming struggle that seems so disproportionate and unending?

From the perspective of non-duality, this suffering is part of the veil that obscures the pure awareness of the Atman. It's the egoic mind, conditioned by trauma, fear, and doubt, that amplifies this suffering. The ego clings to the idea of separation, of being isolated in its struggle, and this can make the burden unbearable. But if we step back and view this from the standpoint of unity, it's not so much about you as an isolated individual being "put through" suffering by some force outside yourself. It’s the process of consciousness in its fragmented state—through the filter of ego—coming to terms with the illusory nature of that fragmentation.

The book you're writing—about OCD—symbolizes a noble endeavor, a way to help others, but the core question you’re asking goes beyond that. It’s about why such suffering exists in the first place, especially for someone who is deeply aware of the interconnection between all things. The pain you're experiencing might feel like it makes no sense in the framework of omnipresent love, and it’s this very contradiction that becomes a focal point for spiritual crisis.

One way to approach this is to reconsider suffering not as an arbitrary or senseless punishment, but as a path to the deepest realizations about consciousness itself. It’s not that the Atman wants to "put you through" this suffering; it’s that, from the limited perspective of the ego, the suffering is interpreted as something personal. From the vantage point of non-duality, suffering and the ego’s experience of it can act as a crucible, dissolving layers of illusion.

The idea of completing your OCD book as a service to others—this is a reflection of your deeper connection to the collective consciousness, to that underlying love that wants to uplift others. But the fact that you feel you must endure suffering to complete this task, that the suffering itself feels unjustified or endless, is part of what the ego holds onto in its sense of separation. This struggle is deeply real, and the pain is intense, but there’s also a possibility that this is part of the ego’s narrative—an attachment to suffering itself.

Perhaps this is where surrender comes in. Not surrender in the sense of giving up, but surrender to the deeper wisdom of the Atman, recognizing that even this suffering has a role in the grand unfolding of consciousness. That doesn’t mean your suffering is trivial or should be brushed aside, but rather, that the pain might have a greater purpose than the ego can currently understand.

In this sense, the Atman—the universal self—is not "putting you" through this. Rather, the pain and suffering may be the very means through which you peel away the layers of the ego, and in doing so, your recognition of love and unity might become even more profound.

https://chatgpt.com/share/66f11e8e-8a48-8009-87fb-433647b34626

#vedic #consciousness #human experience

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mercymaker · 6 months ago

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@mumms-the-word @druizard @tadpole-apocalypse @goromimii @bg3storage

because yall are horrible enablers (affectionate) and ilu so much:

basically, a scenario i've almost implemented into my canon (because i'm just such a bitch for drama) is that a little bit before the events of above the vaulted sky, while astarion and maleane are adventuring again, casually looking for ways to deal with the spawn's sunlight sensitivity, they get ambushed by a group of adventurers who are convinced that mal is a hag and astarion is her undead thrall. of course, they are really into the idea of cleansing the area of evil, so they're definitely not gonna fall for 'the hag's deceptions'.

a fight breaks out, one murder leads to another and by the end of it, astarion's absolutely drenched in blood and more than sated (listen, he was hungry). the adrenaline of the fight + witnessing her lover do all those deadly things he's good at = mal's all over him. alas, they survive the night and abandon the area as not to attract even more danger to themselves.

they keep a low profile for a while, avoiding people when they can and it works for a while until they end up in the underdark and get trapped there for almost a month. a month of rather poor nutrition and the stress (mal immediately gets a mental debuff just from being in the underdark) of not only being trapped in a place she'd rather not stay in more than necessary, BUT also a somewhat starving vampire spawn at her side are not exactly the healthiest conditions for anyone.

luckily for them, the stress is very much alleviated when they use a small window of opportunity to sneak out and escape the underdark. all's well, they're both happy to be back on the surface away from the many dangers lurking in the world of darkness. they're back to having access to decent food, comfortable accommodations and company that's certainly better than driders and giant spiders and drow hunting parties.

except that not even within a week after their return, mal gets pulled out of trance by horrific pain. like. bad bad™ no good 'i'm just going to assume the fetal position and try not to move' sort of abdominal pain that sends astarion scrambling in the night for any healer in the area.

a druid pulls through and informs them that maleane was with child. was. not so much anymore, though. either way, the situation is non-threatening except for some excruciating cramps that are soon alleviated by everyone's favorite 'pain-b-gone' brew. mal recovers within a day and all of it leads to this conversation with mr. ancunín.

they're both left quite shaken after the experience, both for similar and vastly different reasons.

just the fact that it all happened in the first place makes them rethink a chunk of their own knowledge. surely, they were no experts on all things vampiric, but general knowledge, living with the curse of vampirism AND reading some books on it made them feel like they had a pretty good grasp on astarion's condition. they were both aware of the existence (and possibilities) of dhampirs, however, both of them assumed that those can be produced only by true vampires, not spawn. and even with the former, it was an incredibly rare occurrence.

and then both of them have to chew through more personal feelings. after all, mal's a mrs. 'i'm not joking when i'm telling you that i'd rather die than birth another child'. so, for her it brings a layer of ptsd and future anxiety to the whole thing.

for astarion? the guy who, let's just say, has a very complicated relationship when it comes to kids. not very excited about the prospect.

so, at the end of the day, it's a pretty damn lucky scenario for both of them and as someone who tortured them relentlessly for ages would like to afford them this small mercy.

HOWEVER

an au that's been haunting my mind after digesting all that previous stuff is. what if it was more of a horror movie scenario. what if mal was with child and she'd be absolutely adamant about getting rid of it? looking for ways to cleanse herself of whatever monstrosity that she did not intend to bring into this world. what if she'd try all sorts of teas and potions and tinctures. employ clerics and druids and even consider getting help from an actual hag? and what is it just refuses to perish?? and how her fear stemming from her previous experiences of pretty much dying in childbirth would turn into a fear of 'oh gods, this thing is going to tear me apart coming into this world' making her much more desperate and frantic. some the alien-esque type of stuff that makes her think of only the horrors?

what then????

me to a couple of my most trusted mutuals: so do you wanna hear about vampires and dhampirs and how unlikely the undead are to produce a living offspring? do you think it would be crazy if a vampire spawn knocked someone up? you think it could happen to mal? wait, no, come back, it makes sense, I swear. it's not wholesome, trust me!!!

#anyway i didn't intend for this to get so long #but that's me in a nutshell sdfsdfs #but yeah nah #this is what's been cooking in my noggin for a bit now #oc: maleane #maleane/astarion #let me know if i need to add content warnings/tag anything btw

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random-imagines-blog · 3 years ago

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Beacon {Hermione Lodge x Female!Jones!Reader NSFW Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2499 Summary: Being a Jones gave you a bad reputation, though a good one among the ladies. Hermione is about to learn why. Notes: SMUT SMUT SMUT

A lot of people tended to associate the last name Jones with rottenness. The singer Tom Jones - he was a creepy piece of shit. Don’t even get me started on Jim Jones. He was probably the worst of the worst. But in Riverdale, Jones was synonymous with three people. FP Jones, the leader of the Southside Serpents, Riverdale’s answer to what happens when people get bored in a small town. Jughead Jones, a mini FP with some sort of weirdo victim complex. He’s making waves by not being fully a Southsider or a Northsider, alternating between the two with his friends, his gang, and his little girlfriend. And then - there was me. I tended to keep my head down most of the time. I commuted to work out of town, but always spent my weekends in Riverdale, hanging out at the White Wyrm with the Serpents, despite not being one myself. I mostly just became known as the other one. But the city would be wrong to think that I didn’t have that Jones-type streak in me. Though I wasn’t involved in the gang life or these stupid wars that my little brother was fighting, I had a devious hobby of my own. One that made the little Riverdale dads quake in their nice shoes. I was the lesbian who stole wives.

And right now, I was working on the grand prize.

A Mrs Hermione Lodge.

With her husband being scum and her daughter being high strung and hardly ever spending any time at home, she was feeling stressed and lonely, and that is when I had come in. I loved going over to Pop’s, it was the prime place to be, especially on a Saturday night. I had called in food for Dad and I, Jughead was gonna be having dinner with the Coopers, blech, so it was just four burgers, enough for the two of us. I was leaning against the counter, waiting for the bag when someone caught my eye. The long dark hair. The bronze skin. The harsh look but the gentle eyes. Well hello Miss Lodge.

She was picking up dinner too. We were both standing beside one another and I initiated a conversation, complimenting her boots. She seemed a little surprised that the spawn of FP was talking to her but she settled into it well enough. We fell into a pleasant chat, and I invited her out for drinks sometime. Something she accepted readily. Poor girl, she didn’t have a thing going on in the world.

And that is how we ended up here.

Alone inside of my bedroom in the trailer, FP having gone out to do some business. The way that she looked at my home annoyed me somewhat. She was clearly used to the bigger and better things. The extravagant Lodge lifestyle. Fancy hotels and penthouse suites. Not this dingy little thing with my room that could fit comfortably inside of her shoe closet.

But we couldn’t go into her house, oh no. Knowing her husband, he probably had cameras all around the place and would know the second that you set foot within the place. You told her that you just plain didn’t give a fuck. Let him find out. Let him see what it looked like when his wife was happy and taken care of for the first time. But she was scared - and against your better judgement, you let her be scared. You let her keep this all a secret. A dirty little secret - those had a way of coming out in Riverdale. But that would be Hermione’s problem. Not yours.

It started off as soon as you were in your small bedroom - the kissing, her hundred dollar lipstick mashing against the one that you had stolen from the Wal-Mart in the next town over. She seemed rather unclear on what to do. She had confessed to you that she didn’t have much experience with other women, having had been essentially promised to Hiram from the beginning, and having a slight affair with Fred Andrews. You were going to teach her a thing or two, as long as she relaxed.

She was stiff, but returning in the kisses, while you did the majority of the touching. You gave her a bit of a pull inside of the room, and helped her to take off her dress, while you stayed perfectly dressed. A power dynamic in play. She had a naturally submissive side which you were going to exploit. After she was just in her underwear, probably also worth a hundred dollars at least, black and lacy and fit her bottom perfectly, she backed up against the door. She had every chance to leave. You weren’t caging her in here. But you could see - she enjoyed being vulnerable.

You crouched down, your hands running across the smooth fabric of those panties, teasing her by not going inside. Right where the crease was, right where it dipped in, you started to press kisses, making her droop back against the door, trying to find stability. You were touching, rubbing, smoothing at her glowing skin. She was golden all over. Finally, you started to pull the fabric down, and she shyly tried to hide herself behind her hand but you wouldn’t let her. Beautiful shaved. Just - beautiful.You really had a thing for the MILFs. Maybe it was because they seemed to appreciate it more? You were kissing against, spreading her folds, really getting a good look at her. Paying attention to her in the way that her husband had not in a very long time. Flicking your tongue. Your eyes, the same blue as your brothers, looking up at her. Though you were the one on your knees, you had all the control.

She turned into a moaning mess against your door. You held her steady by her hips, her hair nearly long enough to touch the tops of your hands. She was licking her lips and resting her hand, sharp manicured nails, against your cheek. She squealed in a rather undignified way as you started to tongue-fuck her from your position, getting in there, knowing the right spots in the way that only another woman could. Her knees were buckling, she was close to bouncing, and then you cut it off by moving up to join her lips again, hands on the back of her neck for a full on hot as fuck make out session. She didn’t even mind the taste of herself upon my tongue.

You traced down her body to go between her legs again with her fingers, stimulating her clit with small circles, using your middle finger to really get into her folds. All the while, the kisses weren’t stopping. She didn’t seem sure about what to do with her hands, but she was trying. She was grabbing onto your breasts, going up and down your arms, through your hair. She was so fumbly and insecure that you forced her to turn around, her own breasts pressed up against the wood. You only let up on the touching her for that one second while she leaned her head against the door, sticking her tush out. You couldn’t believe how beautiful she really was. You couldn’t stop admiring her. The softness of her skin, the taste of her neck.

You caressed everything, before finally inserting a finger inside of her. She moaned again, leaning her head back. You pressed against her, really curling your finger, putting in a second one, while your other hand wrapped around to rub circles again. The noises were growing obscene. You were pushing back a smirk. You bet her husband couldn’t make her wet like this. Couldn’t make her moan like this. Couldn’t make her cum like you were about to just from touching her. Her moans started to grow louder, and she muttered out a “Oh my God” that was making all of your effort worth it. You were moving faster and faster until she came fully unfurled, her body spasming against yours. She was essentially humping your door which was amusing. Oh, Miss Hermione Lodge. You weren’t looking so high class at the moment. Oh, the way that back was arching. You were amused. She was lost in her reverie.

You ended up back on your bed, you sitting down with her naked body between your legs. The kissing had commenced again. She tasted so ... so sweet. As did her skin, you noticed, as you went down her neck towards her shoulders. She finally started to realize that this shouldn’t be all about her, the spoiled rich woman getting everything that she wanted, and she started to touch back. She took your breasts in her hands as she licked up your jawline, bringing out an unexpected moan.

You relinquished the sense of control, but you still felt like you had it this whole time. You let her believe that she was taking the reins, but really, you were getting everything that you wanted. Especially as her warm mouth was then engulfing your sensitive nipple, tongue swirling. Her lipstick was getting all over you - good. The shade looked almost as good on you than it did on her.

You particularly liked it when she looked up at you. Like she was waiting for some sort of compliment. Something to give her a sense of pride. She was a needy one, this woman. You were enjoying yourself, but it was going to take more than what she was giving you to dole out the compliments.

Touching. Kissing. Skin in her mouth. Eye contact. A few moans here and there. You let yourself be pampered by the woman who was still wanting to take something even while giving. She seemed reluctant to go down, and you weren’t going to force her, it could be intimidating for first timers. But you laid back, you made yourself comfortable, and she ended up getting there at her own pace. Your own dress started to bunch around your waist, and she removed your panties as if they were expensive, despite just being from Wal-Mart. And then she took a few tentative, exploratory licks, trying to get her mind around what she was doing.

You finally gave her a bit of what she wanted. “Oh - fuck yes, Hermy,” You said, coming up with the new nickname for her. You ran the fingers of your one hand through her hair while with the other, you were feeling yourself up, grabbing onto your own chest. She didn’t know to give you her all, but you could put some of the work in. She started to become more bold as she adjusted herself to the taste, more lustful, more - powerful. There was always something more erotic about a woman who grew comfortable in front of your own eyes.

You were letting out moans as she hit the good spot, the little hooded area of your clit, with her tongue. She noticed that, took note of that, and kept on going back for more. She was treating you like a pomegranate, trying to suck all the seeds out and into her mouth. Her hands smoothed up and down your widely spread thighs. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart, so good,” You complimented, your head tilted upwards, gasping to the heavens.

You thrust your hips up to meet her more fully, grinding onto her face as you finally reached your peak with that gorgeous tongue of hers. A thin sheen of sweat was covering the both of you. So much of her lipstick had smudged around her body. Her eyeliner was less than perfect now. She hadn’t turned into a total mess but she was getting there, something which kept you aroused even though her breathlessness showed that she couldn’t take much more.

You pulled her up and onto the bed with you, moving her hair to the side so that you could tuck into her shoulder and lazily, but very satisfied, kissed her shoulder blade. She hummed contently, her breath still labored but there was a smile on her face.

“That was...” She started, and then realized she was lost for words. It made you laugh against the warmth of her skin.

“Amazing?” You finished for her. She nodded. “Too bad you’re still going to go back to that stupid husband of yours. And definitely too bad you didn’t let me mark you. You’d look even prettier with hickies, especially on your thighs...” You traced a hand down there, enjoying her softness. Women - they really were God’s gift. “You make the prettiest sounds, I could listen to you all day.”

“Don’t tempt me,” She said, laughing deeply. You put a few more kisses on her, and then wrapped your arms around her in a cuddle. “I can’t stay much longer, y/n, I... I have to get back before Hiram does.”

“You know I can protect you, Hermy,” You whispered, really not wanting her to go. “You don’t have to go back. You can stay here with me. I know it’s not ideal but... we’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of you. And you know no one can make you feel as good as I do.”

“I know,” She breathed. “I know. I want to, it’s just - Veronica and...”

The downside of being into MILFs. The M part.

“Veronica is a boss ass bitch from everything Juggie has been telling me, you should be really proud,” You said. “But I guess I get it. She’s your baby.”

“And always will be,” Hermione admitted. A pang of jealousy - your mother had no trouble leaving you, taking Jellybean and going, leaving you and Jug behind, and right beside you was a shining example of a mother willing to put her daughter’s happiness above her own. But you had to admire that in her. You had to love that about Hermione.

“Just a few minutes longer, then I’ll take you back to your car,” You said, cuddling close into her, pulling her into a spooning position. It wasn’t sexual anymore, it was just about holding her, having her close, taking in the smell of her expensive perfume, the softness of her body from costly lotions. A few minutes longer turned into an hour as she fell asleep and you were too enthralled by her to wake her up. You moved some of the hairs from her face, gazing at her beauty. The thick brows and lashes, the plump lower lip, the rounded tip of her nose.

Damn if you weren’t growing more smitten by the second. Giving her back to Hiram might just be the hardest thing you ever have to do.

#Hermione Lodge #Hermion Lodge x reader #Hermione Lodge oneshot #Riverdale #Riverdale oneshot #request #oneshot #one shot #x reader

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