#spawned by both a conversation and my own experiences

[gemmahale]

Hey peeps, we gotta talk about accessibility again.

I’m so glad you’ve discovered how gradient texts work. They look so cool! (Come teach me, plz.)

But I can’t read that color-into-black gradient on my screen unless I highlight it. The text disappears. And I’m on the basic, default setting for Tumblr’s Dash.

I’m here for you matching your aesthetic! I love it! But please, for the love of my eyeballs, please make sure your constant is high enough to be legible by most people. (If I’m struggling on default, folks with migraine settings or other high-visibility tools probably aren’t faring much better.)

And please, please, please, reconsider using that gradient for your tags. I want to know what I’m walking into, and if I can’t see it, I can’t read it. Tags are a safety tool.

Make a banner! Make it an image and have the text below it! You have options!

But at the very least, please don’t use black/navy/dark grey as your second gradient color.

And please rethink using the teeny font for blocks of text. I want to read it without eye strain.

[rivereverie]

Astarion and Vanity

Spoilers for all of Astarion’s story through all acts of BG3. As always, this is just my interpretation and thoughts on the character from what I know, so feel free to disagree.

I feel that Astarion’s expression of vanity is a part of him that gets misread a lot. It’s something that is pointed to as one of his negative traits as though this vanity of his is sincere. Personally, I think his outward obsession with his own looks and charm is anything but shallow, and is yet another example of how his life experience and trauma has shaped him. 

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder (ha), and for the sake of this mild analysis, I’m going to be defining beauty as conventional physical attractiveness. The main point is that Astarion in-game is treated as being very attractive, so that’s how I will treat him in this conversation. Beauty can be a form of power; one Astarion was very clearly blessed with. While all the main companions in the game are designed to be rather attractive, for Astarion, this goes beyond simply wanting to appeal to the player and is not incidental. In my opinion, Astarion’s looks are crucial to his character. 

To briefly summarize what we all know about Astarion, he was thoroughly and systematically stripped of his autonomy and identity by Cazador. He was forced to adopt an incredibly narrow worldview of essentially: power = freedom = safety (simplified, of course). Throughout the game, he makes choices that slowly shape and are shaped by the man he’s becoming. By the end of the spawn route, he’s still only just beginning to really discover himself. This all is crucial to the heart of his character and influences all his actions. 

Given his hollow sense of identity, Astarion clings to certain traits which he parades around, making sure everyone knows these things about him. The most prominent of those traits being hedonism, sadism, selfishness, and vanity. In this post, I’m going to be focusing on the last item, though I do have a post on learned cruelty that delves into the trait of sadism in the context of his identity. The pattern here is that these traits are masks that serve to make him feel in-control of both himself and those around him. 

While Astarion may seem terribly vain, his appearance to others is actually a very deep-seated, sensitive issue that genuinely affects him. The infamous mirror scene may come across to some as him being shallow, at first, but really he’s right in what he said; his reflection is just one more thing that was taken from him, and it’s completely fair that he is angry and grieves. But this is also significant to him beyond the fact of its injustice, or the symbolism of reflection as identity. Let’s dive a little into his psyche, and guess at how he sees himself and the world: He’s spent the past 200 years being valued exclusively for his ability to bring back prey for Cazador and perform sexually. This equates to his charm and his body. After two centuries of being degraded and stripped of everything, and only ever getting any kind of positive reinforcement, praise, or acknowledgement for your looks and seductiveness, of course he’d begin unconsciously tying his sense of self-worth to his appearance. By Cazador, he was turned into a tool and a toy. By his targets, he was objectified. Dehumanized from both sides in different ways, and again, only valued for his body and whatever sweet words he could spin. This leaves him with his self-worth very profoundly tied to his appearance to others, as I said.

I imagine he had two main types of targets when under Cazador’s thrall: starry-eyed, naive folks who were swept off their feet, and more predatory characters who took advantage of an easy offer. The former were probably the only source of genuine positive attention he ever got for those 200 years, even if it was shallow. Since he cannot find self-affirmation by looking into a mirror, he finds new mirrors in the eyes of those who look upon him. His beauty is reflected in their hunger, their lust, their admiration, their bashfulness, their envy. Is it any wonder that now he flaunts himself, always making comments about how good he looks? If he doesn’t get an affirmative response, then at least it's his way of reassuring himself. Telling himself that he’s still valuable in the only way he knows how to assess his value. “I don’t need a reflection to know this looks fabulous”, he tells himself. This is why he makes so many seemingly vain comments. Why he’s so concerned with being done-up and looking good. Why he has spent so much time mending his clothes so he looks every bit the part of the dashing elven rogue. 

Speaking of his clothes, this is another way he’s clinging to his autonomy and identity even through all his years of torment. His clothes were probably one of the only things he was ever allowed to have. When you have so little, of course you’ll care for it, hence why the flavor text  for both his shirt and armor mention how his clothes are worn, but have been repaired many times by a careful hand. During those years under Cazador, it probably brought him a small sense of control to be able to mend and embroider his own clothes; the only things which he felt belonged to him, more so than his own body. Something familiar that gave him a sense of security and self. (This is why I adore the idea of him becoming a tailor after the story, because it's giving him a healthy outlet of personal expression and creating something that's entirely his own. Hobbies can be crucial to cultivating one's identity and self-esteem, and we all want that for him). Not to mention that Cazador probably would not have taken kindly to his spawn not looking their best, and that's probably a "rule" Astarion carried with him even into freedom.

I think the mirror scene is a lot more than him just seeking validation and showing us a glimpse into this part of his mind, though. It’s also about him genuinely trying to evaluate how the player character sees him, and shows how he’s trying to figure out his new identity in freedom, but that’s its own discussion for another time. I just think that it’s unfair for people to call him vain or shallow for caring about his reflection and appearance so much, when that’s all he was ever taught to value in himself.

 The only other significant way we see Astarion valuing himself is through his skills as a rogue, with his constant cocky comments about how easy it is for him. While this too is a form of external validation born of valuing himself for what he can do rather than what he is, it’s still a positive thing for him. The game doesn’t really address all this, but in my mind, him getting to make use of his skills and be valued as a part of a group that needs him is probably really good for his self-esteem at this point in his life. 

All of this to say, I don’t think it’s fair to cast judgement on him for being “vain”, given everything we know about him. There is a big difference between him and someone who genuinely sees the world through a shallow and judgmental lens. For him, his mask of vanity is a symptom of his pain and twisted worldview rather than something rotten born of privilege and a superiority complex. His self-aggrandizement is a necessary part of the narrative he’s building for himself: the vampire spawn who would ascend. Again, desperate to convince himself and those around him that he both wants and deserves this, even as his crooked worldview is being chipped away by genuine kindness and connection. This understanding of his mind shows why it’s so important to him that we see and love him for who he actually is, not just his charm and beauty. His heart is beautiful in an entirely different way that outshines his physical features, even if he himself doesn't see it. The hope is that, with his friends and perhaps partner at his side, he’ll learn to value himself for his own heart and soul; for the person he’s becoming as he gathers up the pieces of his identity. To see the light he holds within him that endured those centuries of darkness. Until the mirrors stop mattering.

[omnitrash]

Self Aware Dmc!! - Seeing their little darling cry for the first time!

Hi hi!!! I’ve had this idea in my head for a WHIIIIIILEEE now so I’m finally getting to it! This oneshot mostly takes place in Dmc3 and as usual, I’m mostly basing it on my own experiences!…and it’s a long oneshot…anyway- do you guys like Nevan? I think she’s neat 😇

(I can’t write fight scenes for shit-)

Happy reading guys and thanks for all the support!!

Pink dialogue- two people thinking or speaking at the same time

You were a very sensitive person, Dante concluded, feeling your growing frustration and dejectedness as you struggled to beat Cerberus.

“Easy mode unlocked…? Oh fuck off, I can do this!” He heard you grumbled, snickering quietly at your attitude and muttering a small encouragement under his breath.

“Atta sweetheart…you got this”

And soon enough you did, he grinned to himself as he heard you cheer while you watched him play with the newly attained nunchucks. See? He knew you could do it! Just had to get a hand of the controls, that’s all.

However he had to wonder…if you really were this sensitive and got easily dejected like this…would you be okay during harder boss fights? He couldn’t help but worry.

This concern resurfaced once more later on when the two of you encountered Nevan. Hearing you squeal over him and her as he flirted with her playfully.

Did you really have to fawn over her too? I mean he could agree she was hot but c’mon sweetheart, he’s right there! He could be way better than some batty opera singer!

Nevan, though, raised a brow…you were cute little thing. If you were with the spawn of Sparda, you’d certainly be worth looking into…you were easy on the eyes too. And your voice was as beautiful as you were, having listened to you sing during your failed attempts at taking her down…she wouldn’t mind singing for you, sugar.

The concern started setting in once you started getting quiet after trying to fight her for an hour. Even with your little music playing, you couldn’t make it pass the first phase and it only made you more dejected. You didn’t even sing, make any swooning comments about the two, or yelp and panic when you made Dante barely dodge an attack or get hit anymore.

When Dante fell in battle once more after another hour, he couldn’t help feel your disappointment. Not at him but at yourself. He looked at Nevan for a moment, seeing her own hint of concern in her eyes at your current state.

“…maybe I’ll just try again tomorrow…it’s late…sorry Dante..” They heard you mutter, Dante quickly feeling your absence once you left the game.

“Oh sweetheart…” He muttered, sighing as he sat down on the ground and looked at the bat demoness. He had a feeling he’d be here for a while so why not chat with her?

“…so how long have you sung for?”

The red haired demoness across from him rose a brow in faint amusement, interested in the young man’s start for a conversation but she saw no harm indulging. It’s not like she was fighting him out of a grudge or anything like that.

By the time you had returned, the two had already developed a sense of grudging respect towards the other. And Nevan managed to get the information she wanted of the person she saw briefly, now understanding it was you behind that faint but powerful aura radiating off the young devil hunter.

“Alright Nevan…round two…” They heard you murmur, Dante sighing quietly in contentment as he felt your presence embrace him again. Though he wished he could’ve helped you cheer up a bit. Knowing -and feeling- that you were still dejected about your constant losses the day before. He knew you could take down the wannabe Jessica Rabbit, he was sure of it! “…ready Dante?”

‘Ready as ever sweetheart!’ He thought, readying himself for as many fights as you needed.

“This party’s getting crazy…! Let’s rock!”

And lo and behold, just an hour later you were able to beat the demoness, both you and Dante letting out a cheer as you both landed the final blow. The demoness letting out a small smile of her own…you did fight hard for this with the little devil hunter, after all. She couldn’t help that she grew fond of you.

“LETS GOOOO! HAHA! YEAH WE DID IT!” You laughed, briefly letting go off the control for a moment as the cutscene played out. Watching as your hands shook, and letting out a nervous chuckle at that. “Oh shit my hands are shaking…lmao, skill issue-“

‘Sweetheart, no-‘ ‘Sugar, no-‘ the two characters thought, sweat dropping slightly at that information before looking at each other. Dante holding the demoness in his arms, as she extended her hand to his cheek and down his chest.

“All right…I’ll help you. Your father was a handsome devil…but you’re no slouch yourself.” She smirked, before leaning in close and whispering in his ear so it wouldn’t reach your ears. She wouldn’t blow his cover after all.

“Plus, I’ve got my eye on the little sugar too, y’know? They’re too sweet…it’s quite selfish of you not to share, don’t you think, little devil hunter?”

Dante scowled, watching as she transformed into a devil arm and ceased to talk…how convenient. Maybe she knew that if she stayed as she was for a moment longer he’d rip her to shreds. Cutscene be damned.

….but maybe a little guitar solo wouldn’t hurt-

And so he jammed out, enjoying your cheerful and beaming reaction as the two enjoyed your victory while he rocked out on the old stage.

—————————————————————————

“You seem to be in a bad mood” Dante smirked as he entered the room, observing his brother’s scowl as he corrected him on the ritual’s procedures.

“Oh hey! There’s the mission number in the back! Yay, that’s so cool! Oh my fucking god. When the little details are little detailing, I love that-“ You fawned, missing the lovesick grin of the boy in red and and the small smirk of the demon in blue. How cute. You really were a sucker for these things huh?

Dante pointed Rebellion at his brother as he waited for a response. “I’m sure you have time for one more game, right?”

Vergil started to unsheath Yamato, stopping halfway through before conceding. “…why not? After all, we share the same blood.” He began to summon his new devil arm, the gauntlets glowing on his hands as he got into stance and smirked back at his younger brother.

“I’ll just use more of yours to undo daddy’s little spell”

“WHAAAAAAAT?????” The brothers heard you exclaim, sensing your surprise as the cutscene ended. “Also what the fuck??? Vergil saying daddy is crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once- okay ya. I gotta focus-“

Dante snickered under his breath, rolling his shoulder while the older twin rolled his eyes, his face growing slightly red at the remark you just made. Both twins preparing themselves for the fight ahead.

However something told Dante that he should worry about you, causing Vergil to raise a brow faintly at his brother’s shift in expression. He knew his younger brother wasn’t concerned about the fight ahead…so what could it be about? You, perhaps? You had fought against him with his little brother before so aside from the increase in difficulty, he didn’t think there was anything else to worry about….

Until he saw you take a moment from the fight.

He watched as you turned your head away from the death screen as you took a quiet but shaky breath and seeing Dante’s worried expression.

“…Dante, are they..?”

“I-I dunno, bro…they-“

“I’m fine” Your voice cut them off unknowingly, though you looked rather dejected. Having a sulk on your face…though considering you’d been fighting the older son of Sparda for almost three hours and hadn’t beaten him yet and only managing to get past his judgement cut phase once, they could understand why you’d look so down.

“No…I got this…maybe, I’ll take a shower first. Take a breath and try again..! Yeah” They heard you mutter before you left them alone. Leaving them to stare at each other…though admittedly Dante was still somewhat dead on the floor.

“…so how’s the weather?”

“Are you seriously doing this right now?-“

By the time you’d come back, they had been bickering for at least ten minutes now, watching as you started the fight once more with a small frown. It took you at least another hour to beat the fight but the sight of your expression from earlier never left their minds.

….if that’s how you reacted to this confrontation, would you be okay in their final fight?

This question wouldn’t plague their minds until the moment actually arrived, Vergil staring down at his brother’s wounded body on the water before they both heard something that made them tense and look up in your direction…a sniffle.

You were…crying?

“…damn it…fuck, this is so stupid…but..” You had let go off your controller but right now, they didn’t need it to feel your current dejection and frustration. “I can’t…I can’t do it..! I’ve been fighting him for two hours and I still…I can’t even get him down halfway…! I’m never gonna make it!” They heard your voice crack during your murmurs, watching as you wiped your eyes with your sleeves to clean your tears.

Hearing your shaky murmurs and small sniffles made them want to break the code and comfort you…but they couldn’t. Staring at you hopelessly before staring at each other. There must’ve been something they could do even then, couldn’t they?

“…don’t give up, my dear…please” Vergil found himself whispering without thinking, his whisper actually becoming audible. His younger brother following along with a small whisper of his own.

“Yeah sweetheart…how about we try one more time, huh? Verge here ain’t that scary, I promise..” He cooed softly, ignoring the brief glare he received in response.

The two perked up as you looked at the screen again, your eyes puffy and glossy with tears as you decided to restart the cutscene before the fight. Letting out little sniffles or whimper as you tried to swallow back any cries while you tried to attack.

You are so beautiful. You truly are, but the sight of your tears and the small noises you made was something else for them. It was a mix of hating to see you so sad over the game and finding your teary state endearing.

But their concern for you overcame their current adoration, Dante giving it his all and almost taking control himself during the fight. Allowing you to do more combos and damage than you were allowed to.

And Vergil?

He let himself be barraged with hit after hit. That’s not to say he didn’t fight back, but it wasn’t as fiercely. Like he was holding back for you…Dante didn’t mention it. He knew his brother was an actual softy deep down and that extended to you….and it also made the fight easier so that’s also a plus-

“Wait…I’m doing it…? Oh my gosh, I’m doing it..!” You murmured before shaking your head. “No no…don’t get too excited…you might jinx it..”

‘Sweetheart…’ Dante thought, sighing in slight exasperation at your self deprecating comment. His older brother only frowning in agreement as you landed the final blow and he fell to his knees.

“I…I did it! We did it Dante! Yeah haha!” You cheered shakily, beaming down at the characters as the cutscene of the aftermath played out.

They were so proud of you. Even if they had to tweak the game a little, they’d do anything to make sure you wouldn’t cry like that again. As to whether you heard their faint encouragement earlier, they’d never know. But they had a small feeling in the back of your head that you did…

“…oh shit, my hands are shaking so much. Ahaha oh my gosh-“

‘My dearest angel, no-‘

‘Sweetheart, not again!’

[bg-brainrot]

**BANGS DOOR OPEN**

I DO DECLARE IT BE HORNY HOURS!!

What is your opinion on Astarion’s fav positions?

Oh and what about him being a bottom!? (Pegging?)

**RUNS AWAY**

Ohoho! Don't run away, we have horny hour headcanons to discuss!

I do think this depends on spawn or ascended Astarion, so I split this up-- NSFW below the cut! CW: Astarion's past and trauma

Spawn Astarion

I've said it before in my headcanon post and I'll say it again and again and again: Spawn Astarion wants to stare into his partner's eyes during sex. Especially as he tries to grow more comfortable in sex, I think he would be open to trying out a few different positions, but ultimately find that he wants to be able to remain connected to them as best as he can, and that means seeing them, knowing that they're enjoying the experience as much as he is. After some time, he'd grow fond of other positions, but not for a while (see: The Thousandth Time).

That all being said, favorite position: missionary. I know people joke about this a lot but I think he really would enjoy it the most! He'd also be a fan of cowgirl/cowboy, and really any position that allows him to kiss his partner throughout, like sitting in each other's laps. He would hold their hand, press cool kisses to the sweaty sheen of their temple, anything to keep himself in the moment. It would be an active effort for a while, but soon it would become habit, effortless as he grows used to chasing his own pleasure without any thought at all.

Now top or bottom? I am of the opinion that Astarion is a switch with a preference to top at the start of his journey -- this is entirely because of the power dynamics at play. He'd been so used to being "on his back" literally and metaphorically that I think that first time in the woods is a moment of taking charge and one that he'd hold on to for a bit. Eventually? I think he would be comfortable as either top or bottom, and would certainly be willing to forgo some control if that's what his partner wants. It would really boil down to: 'I want us both to be happy in our experiences, let's figure what works for us both best' (so it would depend on his partner)

When the topic of pegging is brought up (either by himself or his partner), he would be cautiously excited at first, especially knowing how much his partner cares for him/his relationship with sex and how good it will feel. He's no stranger to being pegged, no stranger to enjoying the sensation, but it would be the first time in centuries that he actually wouldn't feel used by the end of it. So he enjoys it thoroughly that first time, all of his fears melting away with the way his partner coaxes the pleasure out of him, he may even make some noises he hasn't heard from his own mouth in years. Ultimately, it is one of the many ways he reclaims control and, for that, he can't get enough.

Ascended Astarion

Conversely: Ascended Astarion couldn't care less about eye contact during sex. In his act 3 romance scene, he only briefly makes direct eye contact, and it's mainly to get into a better position. To him, it's not about the inherent intimacy of sex, it's about the sensations that him and his consort both feel, that they both bring each other undone utterly and thoroughly.

So his favorite position? Doggy style. He likes deep penetration, and a position that gives him a lot of control. He sets the pace, the pressure-- he would feel every bit the lord he is while his consort begs for more beneath him. Another favorite position is 69, as he loves how he and his consort slot together so well, each heightening the others' pleasure throughout. To him, the more both he and his consort get out of it, the better, and if he can make them squirm with what a skilled lover he is at the same time? Delectable really.

Top or bottom is tricky here. Because I believe he starts out as a switch before Ascension, as Spawn Astarion does-- only I think his relationship with sex takes a different path than Spawn Astarion's, namely because he doesn't metaphorically lay his past to rest in the same way. As such, for a while he refuses to bottom. He sees it as demeaning, beneath him and, as his consort, his partner ought to understand and be willing to accept their place. Then, as he and his consort have more and more sexual encounters, he finds himself growing detached from sex. It becomes a rote power play in which he's more of an observer than an active participant. That is, until he finally lets go of some of that power. When he finally allows his partner to top, oh he enjoys it. A lot. Certainly more than he's willing to admit, but his consort would be able to tell easily enough, especially when Astarion all but demands it. That's not to say he relinquishes control entirely-- while he does enjoy being submissive to his lover, more than he expects, he certainly harnesses what it means to be a power bottom.

Ascended Astarion brings up pegging first, and it comes across as more of a casual topic of conversation than the excitement of a vampire lord ready to come undone. Again, his consort would know though. He wouldn't be able to hide the lustful gleam in his eyes when his consort agrees, he wouldn't be subtle about the way he whisks them away to their bedroom a moment later. He enjoys it in the moment surely, but is surprised by how little it entices him again. Being submissive is one thing, but he's left feeling oddly vulnerable afterward-- he doesn't care for that uncomfortable aftermath. When his consort next suggests pegging he shrugs it off, deciding to opt for something that focuses more on making sure that they get off instead.

Thank you so much anon 🫰🏽this was fun and hope you enjoyed horny hours!!

[lovinglokilaufeyson]

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.

[milli-moi]

So I made some thoughts into a thing. These are somewhat explicit things. So I’ll put them under the cut so people don’t have to read them if they don’t want to.

Anyway, I was writing something and I ended up thinking about my headcanons that I’ve developed for Agatha and Rio in the time I’ve written them. Specifically their sex lives. This is probably an even bigger thing because of the way these two are being written in fanfic.

I’m not saying it’s wrong or bad or anything like that but I feel like 80% at least of the fanfic written about their sexual relationship involves penetration with toys/magical changes. This alone is not indicative of the average wlw couple, and I get the sense that specific roles are also not as common as fanfic has us believe. I know people have said that this could well be because a lot of people don’t have experience with what they are writing (don’t get me wrong, I don’t think you need an experience to be able to write it- I’ve written many m/f scenes and I’ve got zero experience there)

Basically, what I’m getting to is that my headcanons for the couple don’t follow the same views as a lot of those ive seen and read. I

I headcanon Agatha as like 100% gay (well probably more like 97% but it’s the same idea) and honestly it means a huge amount to me personally to have a gay female character who is somewhat feminine (again I know a lot of people love the idea of a very butch Agatha but the costume designer actually said he dressed her as in the middle, with both masc and fem elements) and who wanted to be a mum and who was (based on the outcomes not the way they were achieved) a good mum. I like the fact I can imagine if Nicky hadn’t died that her and Rio could have been ultra happy with a little brood of demon-spawn. It’s not often we see gay women in media who have any form of soft and maternal, or that are gay to the point male body parts put them off.

So, although this list is about Rio, it’s probably important you know where I am coming at this from before I break it down. I will likely do a matching list for Agatha and hopefully be able to link it here once I have done.

Really happy to have conversations with people about this list, and if it inspires you in any way I’d love you to use it (and would love to be tagged, not for credit but so I can see what you’ve created lol)

Anyway, the list:

- Rio had experience of lust before Agatha. She possibly had even had sex before Agatha but she hadn’t experienced attraction or arousal in the way that they related to one person.

- She was incredibly fascinated by how pleasure worked, how it could feel for other people. To the point she once made Agatha touch herself so she could sit at eye level and study what she did and how her body responded to it.

- She has an oral fixation. We all know that. BUT it has its uses, it means that Rio wanted to try putting anything in/on her mouth that she could. They only discovered oral sex was a thing because of this desire (1700s, you had to work it out on your own more or less and it’s not the first place I would think to put my mouth tbh..)

- That same fixation threw her off guard when Agatha began to lactate. She didn’t like how much she wanted to taste her wife’s milk but was surprised to be encouraged by Agatha.

- She went through a ‘teenage stage’ in which she struggled to keep her hands to herself after she first experienced sex with Agatha. Agatha found it somewhat cute but would never admit that.

- She is able to alter her appearance and has often wondered what it would be like to create a penis for herself and feel the difference but Agatha finds the whole idea off-putting. She’s not into penis-shaped things at all.

- Rio loves the taste of Agatha (something often talked about in the adult rated world but something that not many people feel in reality) she has a different palate than humans, enjoying the taste of almost all natural things regardless of whether they are meant to be ingested. The first time she went down on Agatha she had to be pushed away, reluctant to stop when it became too much.

- Rio has not had sex with anyone since Agatha. The last time being around 1790, a hate- filled moment of weakness before Agatha gained the darkhold. As a result of this she had some darkish thoughts about seducing Agnes in the hex just to get the chance to be with her again. She didn’t, it would have been wrong and felt worse afterwards.

- She bites. She had to learn how hard was too hard, almost biting off one of Agatha’s nipples the first time they slept together. Agatha has a scar on the inside of her thigh and one on her left shoulder from the times when Rio was still learning.

- Rio has a love-hate relationship with modern clothing. She loves how it is now acceptable to not only show cleavage blatantly but also to wear trousers that line the shape of the hips and thighs. She likes that jeans mean she can have a good look at Agatha’s ass and it not be obvious or inappropriate. She wishes they would go back to real corsets, the fashion she never really got to see Agatha in, and she knows the effects they had on cleavage. She knows she missed out. Underwear is something she hates, almost as much as she misses long skirts. The two go hand in hand, the lack of underwear and the long skirt being what made it possible for her to take Agatha against a tree or two in the old forests without giving too much to anyone that might happen to see them.

- She wishes she had more time to explore a truly invincible Agatha. She wonders if the corruption of the darkhold would also have enhanced Agatha’s own carnal needs. She wonders how hard she could have pushed her.

[rangerhippolord]

Servitors that "go rogue" are preventable

I groan every time I hear another story about a servitor that has "gone rogue" and ended up turning into a cobud instead. Given what I know about a servitor's limitations, as well as the unconscious biases and motivations for creating a servitor, I'll explain why this happens and how to prevent some awkward conversations both in and out of system.

Servitors "going rogue" can sound scary, but you need to look closer at the servitor's purpose and what mindsets their cocreator has about it. If the servitor is seen as an entity that carries out a task like shuffling cards and nothing more, that's unlikely to cause problems. However, one that's supposed to mimic being a headmate probably will. While servitors are inherently human because they are part of the human brain, a creator's underlying expectations and desires can lead to cobud creation instead.

Servitor limitations

Servitors aren't designed to solely handle personality-dependent tasks. They are designed to handle basic tasks or serve as a support for these tasks. But they will fall short when expected more of.

A prime example of this is the "body OS", or "body operating system". This is a basic servitor that most people likely have; it seems to come prepackaged with having a brain. Its purpose seems to be making it easier to think and go about your day-to-day activities.

While the body OS can engage in conversations, it's not designed to handle an entire conversation by itself. The body OS echos general opinions and basic conversation behaviors, but that's because it's designed to help you by offloading conscious effort in day-to-day conversations. (I may share my interesting experience with our body OS in a future post.) However, once you do need to make decisions based on your values or do thinking that requires a lot of conscious thought, the body OS falls short. I assume this because we have heard multiple stories about headmates abandoning the front, only for new ones to spawn after it's been too long. Thus, I concluded a headmate being in control must be required and the body OS isn't enough on its own.

A long time ago, I found another system's experience that supported the idea a servitor shouldn't be left alone in the front. They had a dish-washing servitor, but I may have misremembered and it was just their body OS. They have their servitor do the dishes so they can focus on each other in wonderland. However, if someone interrupts them, a headmate will be summoned to address the situation.

Summoning a headmate also happens with different servitor-like thoughtforms we have. We struggle with emotional self-awareness, so we ask these entities if we really feel a certain way or not on certain things. In response, they will spit out a short answer. However, when it comes to explaining why, they will eventually summon the part of us with those feelings instead. If they didn't, that would imply they were just part of us, and not really a separate servitor who's just passing along a message.

Overall, servitors don't seem like they can carry out personality-dependent tasks on their own. Knowing that, it makes sense why a servitor expected to do those tasks likely becomes a cobud instead.

When things go wrong

I assume there are a few underlying expectations that can lead to servitors "going rogue" and becoming disobedient. However, most of them fall under the general unconscious assumption certain "servitors" are actually separate people. There are a few stories I can think of and some of my speculations about escapism that may explain what inspires these mindsets.

One possible mindset could be the self-fulfilling prophecy that servitors could go rogue in the first place. I have heard of multiple reports of servitors going rogue, reports that it happens easily, and fears of servitors going rogue. This seems very similar to the fears authors and role players have for creating cobuds out of story characters. However, it's possible to have story characters and cobuds (like we do). Likewise, there are examples of servitors not going rogue, usually HUD-like servitors. However, fear is one of the easier expectations to identify.

I believe the main expectation for servitors going rogue is unconsciously expecting a servitor to be a person. You can create a cobud starting with a story character, so I feel basing your cobud off of a servitor isn't too different.

I'm not the first to come to this conclusion either. In response to an older system who reported their servitors having gone rogue, another paromancer suspected the servitor creator had a deep desire for a person instead of a mindless robot. A similar response was given by several paromancers to another incident I'm more familiar with.

A long time ago, I was fortunate enough to meet a system with a "servitor going rogue" situation in a public Discord server. They had a fascinating approach to servitor creation- they "programmed" them by having them follow state machine logic: "if this happens, do xyz." However, their servitors were expected to be servants while also having person-like qualities. The servitor creator explained they would scrap servitors that were deemed "too sentient" and created revisions to try and find that line between person and "machine". However, to me as well as others, it seemed pretty obvious the underlying desire for a cobud was still present.

While a lot more complicated, my host, Gray, created a "servitor" but desired a headmate instead. We saw Gray wanting to create more cobud-like thoughtforms as a problem (due to large-system stigma), and this time he wanted to make a "servitor" to serve as our "subconscious representative". Upon closer inspection, we eventually realized it wasn't a servitor- it was Stars, our headmate who went dormant and Gray brought back. (Stars is kind of servitor-like in nature though, which is part of why it's complicated.) We then realized the underlying motivation for creating some of our more recent turned-out-to-be cobud headmates was Gray wanting Stars back, but failing to do so before. We didn't create any other cobuds since, but we kept the cobuds Gray created.

On a slightly different note, I also speculate wanting someone or something else to live your life will also lead to a failure in creating a servitor. I vaguely remember some people wanting to create a servitor to do things like chores, but they never produced results. On the other hand, the system I mentioned earlier with the dish-washing servitor wasn't stressed about doing dishes, they were just bored. I feel those different mindsets going into servitor creation are significant.

However, it's possible this situation is more rare and less understood than I initially thought. Hosts who abandon the front, an already rare situation in of itself, don't usually need a servitor to take their place. Plus, my feelings of wanting cobuds to be treated like people unless told otherwise is probably making this situation seem more common to me than it really is. I will be very surprised if a system can successfully pull off creating a servitor that does stressful tasks for them. But I don't recommend it either because it would ultimately be a band-aid solution to a deeper problem.

Preventing "rogue" servitors

Ultimately, I feel the underlying biases and desires into servitorship are the driving force that lead to servitors going rogue or not. Since servitors aren't designed to handle deep conscious thinking and decision making on personal values, asking a servitor to do that is ultimately asking for a cobud instead. Being mindful of potential mental health related motuvations, accepting the possibility of more cobuds, blah blahhh

First, if you like the idea of having a servitor doing chores or act as a servant for you, think about what it would be like to have a servitor and consider the possibility you want another cobud and/or are trying to escape responsibility. Do you want to zone out and be distracted while a servitor is doing simple tasks, or do you want to avoid the task all together? If you want a "yes" person who always says yes to you, are you sure this isn't a trauma response from bad past experiences with people, and you just want someone who would genuinely want to say "yes" to you? Addressing any underlying trauma will lead to a happier experience a servitor can't offer you.

Keep in mind it's not normal to have a trauma response or a panic attack for things like cleaning and doing homework. You shouldn't have to suffer trying to force yourself to do these things. If possible, please seek professional help and/or look into self-help resources.

Second, if you want to create more than one cobud, do it. Discouraging cocreators from creating large systems doesn't usually work and creates stigma and shame. It also leads to cases like ours where systems will create "servitors", unconsciously hoping to find a loophole. There's no point in adding unnecessary restraints. Instead, it's more effective to understand why you want to create more cobuds instead and go from there.

Third, there's also no need to humanize servitors either. You can still respect a servitor that isn't intended to be a person. The servitor may need times to recharge, just like how focusing on anything for too long can be exhausting, you shouldn't lash out at a servitor doing what it was expected to do, etc. It's like respecting the body- understand the servitor's limits and don't push far beyond them.

So hopefully, next time you want to dive into servitorship, you have a clear understanding of what you want and your intentions. No one wants their cobud sharing the "So my host thought I was a lifeless robot!" story!

[hmshermitcraft]

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.

[sashiepoo]

why houseki no kuni is important

the contemporary train of thought, to nobody's surprise, is highly existentialist. more than that, it is an eternally reverberating set of waves spawned by individuals whose thoughts swing back and forth like broken pendulums swinging between ephemeral states of positivity and eternal states of negativity. everybody wants to emulate themselves as happier than they are, despite constantly self sabotaging themselves. i always think back to houseki no kuni whenever i see these sorts of thoughts manifest in any space, be it in the comments of a tiktok, a conversation with a friend, listening to a random youtube video, and frankly present in just the implications of really anything postmodern. this sense of dread permeates through everything that we exist within, and it is easier said than done to dispel it.

houseki no kuni is a dark fantasy work that centers around gems, a species with an extremely small population that inhabit a large island, where they simply focus on surviving through their relatively long lifespans. the plot is significantly pushed forth by invasions from an extraterrestrial species known as the lunarians. the work is a beautiful look into what exactly constitutes the incredible breadth of emotions experienced by individuals, as well as a retrospective on finding meaning and understanding what to make of our inherent goals and the relationships and connection-dependent bonds that make up the human conditions. this work will contain spoilers for houseki no kuni's ending and i will mostly be discussing it vaguely as a product of the story rather than something akin to an in-depth analysis or even a thematic overview

the reason i bring up the idea of existentialism as a pendulum is that i think houseki no kuni represents this exact pendulum, taken to its utter extremes, where the tragedies and experiences of phosphophyllite seem to reflect how i view my own life. briefly looking at the process of phos as a character, we see that from the very first moment they can recall, all they ever wanted was to be useful to people. they feel this inherent debt towards the people around them, some that are seemingly based in a desire for approval and others that stem from a desire to simply provide unconditionally for those around them. a lot of works look at this sort of dichotomy between self-sacrifice and selfishness, and the possibility that both are not mutually exclusive outcomes, and i think that houseki no kuni is no exception however it applies an interesting perspective to it.

the first thing that we need to understand about phos is that their desire to help others doesn't just come from nowhere. it is a product of the society that they live in, and it is not as if the gems live by rules and implied ideas that are any different than ours. when you judge a member of society, in your own world, i want you to think about what fairly objective metric you would use to determine their worth? while there are a few valid answers, i think most of them would be based on their contributions, or some extension of their character that you think is a net positive on society. in the land of the lustrous (see what i did there), there is a heavy emphasis on survival, and the value of individuals is determined by the qualities that contribute the most to the society (hardness and capability as a fighter seem to be clear determinants of the hierarchy) and if you can't fight, your other methods of contribution, such as rutile's ability to fix the broken gems. as such, phos's desire to contribute, while seemingly based in self-sacrifice is really just a product of their own desire to be acknowledged. but this is not to say that phos is selfish, because they are a genuinely kind gem, and while we see several gems that maintain this order, contribute and are self-sacrificing in similar manners, a lot of them do it out of self-preservation, whereas phos has a desire to simply just help. they want to feel as if they're a part of the greater society

part of what makes this idea of self-sacrifice inherently disagreeable and difficult to extend to a lot of people's individual lives is exactly that they feel highly individualistic. in a world where there is everybody (8 billion is not a small number) people are inclined to think that there is only them that matters. even if we consider that there are a special few that we let into our lives and view as special, oftentimes these bonds are crude and inevitable to be broken in the pursuit of oneself ultimately the plague of individualism is exactly what separates people from the ability to unconditionally view their lives in service of others as an ouroborostic ideal, where the fulfillment of ones self stems from the fulfillment of others.

the subsequent phases of the story go through phos's increase in strength at the cost of antarcticite's life, coupled with a lot of trauma and an inability to accept the position that they always desired as a fighter. this, coupled with a distrust in kongo leads to phos's deep dive into a desire for the truth, but really it is not truth that they pursue but change because they feel it as their duty, letting it usurp and become them, as the pressure of this duty breaks phos on and on.

as we move through the story, we see phos sacrifice bits and pieces of themself, both metaphorically, and literally, as they attempt to satisfy every goal and every task requested of them, and when it boils down to it, they either are unable to fulfill any of it, or fail at doing so. this slow burn through the story, while essentially exposition, is crafted in such a compelling manner. you can truly feel the disappointment the characters experience in phos, and the disappointment they experience in themselves. this manifests itself ultimately in a destruction of all of phos's ideals that they spawned in with. their shift back to individualism is viewed as a negative thing for a lot of readers, and while the context of the story does a lot of heavylifting for the viewer's frame of mind, there should be no surprise that people tend to scorn individualistic frameworks of thought.

it is not as if ichikawa is inherently disregarding phos's pursuit of the truth as a bad thing, but i think the idea that you should do it entirely by yourself is something that Ichikawa considers self-destructive, which i think is the main idea behind everything up until chapter 80ish, where phos decides to make kongo pray. this is where the rest of the story funnels into its big sacrifice for phos. the big twist, where phos is left with nothing but themself for 10000 years. over this time, phos has tons to reflect on everything that the gems did to betray their trust and good will, and despite all of this, phos still decides to pray. following this, phos even sacrifices themself finally.

i don't want to talk at length about this portion of houseki no kuni for a couple of reasons. one is that there are tons of incredibly intelligent and perceptive people that have written about phos's prayer, and shared their perspectives, the good and the bad about it, and i find my thoughts to be nothing unique and mostly a reflection of the general consensus. what i do want to touch on, is ichikawa's final thoughts. what happens after the prayer?

first thing to point out is phos's very obvious realization. they sacrificed everything when all they really wanted was to be loved. they desired change, truth, love, but never really did anything to satisfy their own craving for love, just missions that they hoped would serve as a means to that end.

phos ends up finding a new species, new people to love and people that love them. and they live out their happy years until the sun comes to envelope them. phos feels committed to their duty and decides to stay back to sacrifice themself to the sun, and this ultimate act of self-sacrifice is i think what has brought me to the core of houseki no kuni

it was one of the most raw, and rough endings of all time, and it was filled with moments that were hard to really rationalize, and an unusual explanation of a lot of the things that were inherent to the story, but in the end, all that was left was phosphophyllite

and phosphophyllite was light... really light... there was really nothing left of them besides their goal. when everything was fully erased, that inherent desire never truly left, and so they hope they can brighten someone's day.

people feel so often that they have no purpose, and that they cannot feel loved by anyone, and yet they will never acknowledge their inherent need to love, and their inherent need to acknowledge their purpose. repressing and burdening yourself over the years with all of these thoughts, only for the most fleeting, light, and authentic portion of yourself to still yearn for you to maybe get yourself out of the passenger seat and drive it yourself. the desire to be loved is not one that can be enacted passively, and the desire for purpose is not something that can be enacted actively. to be loved and to love, and to act for your purpose, and act as a means to your purpose. houseki no kuni reminds you what exactly to pursue.

[wonderscale]

Alright so!! Yoghan!!! (Putting this under a read more bc Long)

Yoghan is the middle of Theil's spawn siblings, though in terms of life he's about the same age as Aerielaya. He was turned at about 53, 155 years before Theil joins them.

He's a dwarf alchemist and like... Weird AF /pos. He went to Damien (the vampire lord they serve) to be turned "For the sake of science," both in the sense of having an eternity to learn everything he possibly can, and in the sense of learning about the in and outs of the condition itself from a scientific standpoint. He does all kinds of experiments based around the condition. He studies the effects of different kinds of blood, how certain potions and ingredients affect vampires when compared to mortals, the changes that it does to the body and mind, basically anything he can get his hands on.

He's incredibly cheerful almost all of the time, and not great with negative emotions. He would love to be able to comfort people! He just doesn't know what to say or do most of the time. He had such a normal life, and was turned by choice to do what he loves. Meanwhile Theil feared their own death, and his other two siblings were both on the brink of death when Damien found them. He doesn't want to say the wrong thing and make things worse because he can hardly imagine their pain.

He and Aerie bicker often, but they still care greatly for each other. They just also love getting on each other's nerves every single day.

He's probably the sibling that's the least close with Theil, but that doesn't mean they aren't incredibly close. He's also extremely interested in their magic, and the effects that chugging down tadpoles had on them and their magic.

He gets a long really swimmingly with Gale, mostly because they're both huge nerds. They can have back and forth conversations about magic and alchemy and it's all super complicated and gives Theil a headache.

After getting freedom, he would most likely want to open his own alchemists shop in Baldur's Gate. He had one in Neverwinter when he was still mortal.

He's probably my oc with the least amount of problems. He's just a nerdy lil guy!! He doesn't need anything but science!!

(if anyone can find this picrew I haven't been able to in like a year)

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

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.

[blackstar5078]

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 ✌.

[moramaisis]

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x his vamp bride Status: Happy together S/O: Both are bi criminals This fic: Part 7 of the series (everything is linked on Ao3), chapter 2 out of 4 (at the time i'm posting this.) All the tags and notes and other info is on Ao3. The series. Summary: The offer is accepted and soon the vampire couple gets to experience their first wedding night, however, not all goes according to plan when dark secrets arise. Luckily, no one is better at keeping secrets than the ascended couple. Warnings and tags: evil vampire couple, villain romance, explicit nasty smut, exaggerated horniness, gothic inspired, dark humor, turns into horror comedy in parts, very dark humor, arranged marriage, mention of murder, bodily fluid play, orgy, multiple partners, groping, handjobs, no incest but fucking in the same room and sharing partners, oral sex, anal sex, vag sex, dommy vampire bride, danger play w seduction ??, murder, vulnerable conversations, mention of children and pregnancy, mild drama, praise kink (idk how this became a part of this fic, i'm not even into that), hair play, spanking, lots of kissing and intimacy, one character has a breeding kink but i'm judging…mildly. DEAD DOVE. Notes: I always feel the need to explain things because my fics are weird. Very gothic horror inspired, as well as splatterpunk inspired, sometimes dark comedy, sometimes campy. Not taking itself too seriously. I feel like this 7th part is even more gratuitous than the others.

We made the decision to move back to Crow's Call, although, Oneressa was begging us to stay. It took a lot of reassuring that she was a great host and our stay has been nothing but wonderful.

“We simply aren't used to all this hustle and bustle,” I said. “Besides, it's not fair to thrust all of our new pets upon you.”

“Disciplining Cornelis is a full time job.” Astarion chimed in. “My lady, we're not leaving for good. We're your renters, you own us.” His charisma was enough to calm Oneressa's fears, she blushed and gave us her blessing.

Once back home I could finally relax. The centuries old castle was quiet, cold and humid. Cornelis was standing in the corner, wearing nothing but his lace robe and panties, shaking wildly from the winter chill. Amara was sitting in a chair, legs crossed, watching us silently and sending an occasional glare of disgust towards her ex-accomplice. She was allowed to wear the clothes she had on when we turned her.

Even though it was me who proposed to turn the sorceress I was uncertain about Amara. Her history gave me no reason to trust her and I didn't know a single thing about her. The night she arose from her grave I was ready to rip her head off. However, the woman gave us all a surprise. Though she may have looked bloody and pained from her transformation, she lunged at Cornelis the very second she saw him. The sorceress clawed out his eyes, then jumped up and throat punched him. I had to pull her away from Cornelis, while she writhed and cussed at him. It was at that very moment that I started taking a liking to her. These two behaved like a cat and dog around each other. It was immensely entertaining.

With our two new spawn and dogs the castle felt pretty crowded. I discussed the household matters with Astarion and assigned Amara a room, whilst making Cornelis sleep in a built-in closet. Of course, this didn't help the dynamic between the two.

One dreary, misty day I was interrupted by loud shouting coming from the hallway.

Amara and Cornelis were circling each other like tigers.

“Shut it, muff connoisseur! I hope betrayal stings you like it did me!” Cornelis growled.

“What do you even know about betrayal, you man child? How did I ever agree to working with you? You're fucking hopeless! The only means of survival you know is suckling your father's teat. Criminal mastermind of the underworld, ha! Not a day spent using your brain!”

“Oh, that's rich coming from a kleptomaniac! Tell me, did the Watch forget to pay your benefits or was there another reason that inspired you to steal from the officers of law?”

“You tried to fucking kill me!”

“And you ran with your tail between your legs when I was captured. Damn coward!”

“I didn't touch your fucking spell!” Amara hissed at him. “Why did you even taunt them? Did it get you hard? Why couldn't you send another letter?!”

I rushed to separate them.

“That's enough! You're giving me a headache.” I barked and the two glared at me. Their endless fighting was starting to tire me out. “If you don't stop your bickering I will rip out your tongues and stitch the stumps together. Now separate and fuck off from my sight!”

Amara wrinkled her nose and walked away, while Cornelis stared at her like he was going to throw her down the stairs.

“And, by the way, i disrupted your spell, moron.” I spat, heading back to our bedroom.

“W-what?!” Cornelis yelped, whilst Amara's evil cackle filled the hallway.

I slammed the door shut behind me. Astarion was looking at me amusedly.

“Are the children being unruly?”

“I think I just shattered Cornelis' world.”

Astarion laughed.

“It needed to be done a long time ago…and preferably by his parents.”

“I told him about the spell.”

“Poor thing, how crushing it must be to know you had him wrapped around your little finger.” The vampire said with a dark gleam in his eye, whilst rubbing lotion into his curls and shaping them with his hands.

I lay down on the bed beside him and returned to my sketchbook. It was lying next to a tome about local history and I continued copying the map of the Arrnevae lands. They were huge and stretched out across craggy mountain streams, unkempt hunting paths and forgotten monoliths worn by time. I turned a few pages to see the ruins of Orilenta. The once magnificent castle looked like the spine of a scavenger-picked giant.

“I bet even ghosts don't want to haunt that place,” I sighed.

A few days had passed and we were enjoying a lovely quiet evening in the living-room. Astarion was sitting near the fireplace, fixing a torn seam in one of his favorite jacket. I was beside him, completing my manicure. Amara had just returned from her hunt, holding a hare, and sat down on a chair in the corner of the room to quench her thirst.

“Skin it and prepare the pelt for me.” I commanded.

Amara stared at me briefly before answering.

“Aye, mistress.”

Though Amara gave us the occasional stink eye she seemed to adapt well to her new circumstances. Amara was smart and seeing how effortlessly we tossed around a massive half elf like Cornelis removed any sort of disobedience from her being. I heard the popping sound of skin as she sunk her fangs into the rabbit's neck. The evening was truly serene.

A loud knock on the wooden door startled us all. Amara flinched and dropped her hare. Astarion frowned looking up from his sewing.

“Will someone get the damned door?” His question was addressed to our spawn, who seemed shy like a pair of wild animals. Cornelis flew past us to open the door but I jumped in his way. I pushed him in the chest with such force that he flew backwards into the room he emerged from and slammed the door in his face. He was still in his lacy panties and i didn't want to encourage any kind of rumors.

I unlocked the front door and looked at the unwanted guest. It was a young man in a thick fur coat, holding his stag by the reins.

“Miss Aspenbrook.” The young man said, handing me a letter. I accepted it and watched as he jumped up into the saddle and disappeared into the night. I shut the door and sat down on the settee.

“What is that, dear?” The vampire lord asked, peeking at me curiously.

“It has the Arrnevae family wax seal.” I said meaningfully.

“Everyone, out of this room! Out, while you still have legs!” He barked and Amara tucked her hare under her armpit, scurrying out like a rodent. Cornelis flung his door open and speed walked through the room, running up the staircase. Once we were left alone he resumed his sewing.

I broke the seal and opened the letter, it was filled with a beautiful handwriting in red ink. For a second I froze in horror, thinking it was written in elvish, but I was glad to be mistaken. I ran my eyes over the text.

“What does it say?” He asked eagerly.

“They agreed to our proposal. To double marriage, to everything. All we have to do now is write them back to discuss the details and set the date.”

Astarion's eyes lit up.

“That's wonderful news! Finally things are moving in the right direction.” The glow in his ruby eyes intensified as he yelled, ”Wine! Now!”

Cornelis brought us a bottle of red, as well as two cups, then scrambled. I cracked the bottle open, pouring us a drink. This was the beginning of our new home, though, we weren't out of the woods yet.

After some correspondence with our future spouses we were sent a draft of our marriage document. Exchanging letters with Arnnevae proved to be great fun, at least for us. We tasked Amara to deliver our letters and she did so with ease, casting a portal and jumping out the other end. Needless to say, our side of the correspondence was lightening fast. We studied the marriage document together, it was quite the interesting read.

“The marriage is annulled if spouses fail to produce an heir…” I read aloud. “Spouses hereby affirm to treat their new family with generosity and care they're due. Wow, never seen emotional blackmail in writing before.”

“Not an uncommon thing in such documents.” Astarion explained. “This is just a fancier way of saying they want us to respect their wishes and share the goods.”

I ran my eyes over the text once more. “No mention of the time they're giving us. How soon are they expecting babies? Summer solstice, nana's birthday?”

Astarion chuckled.

“I think they're being pretty reasonable. At least they're not rushing us.”

There was something else that needed to be discussed.

“Beloved, it's important that we stock up on birth control, unless…” I placed a hand on Astarion's leg. He looked at me calmly, with the most peculiar look upon his face.

“Unless what, darling? We decide to bring a child into this world? This world that was almost destroyed by a group of fanatics a year ago? Or…?” He paused, tilting his head as he looked directly at me. “Have you thought about it?”

“Not since we became involved in Baldur's Gate. I cleared a healer of her potions and never thought about it since.” I realized how it came across and hurried to explain. “Not that I hated the idea of having a baby dhampir with you, I just didn't want to face the apocalypse with morning sickness.”

“You were absolutely right.” He smiled, patting my knee. “One parasite inside your body was more than enough.” It looked like he had something on his mind and he was mulling it over. “Have you been taking it ever since?”

“Well…yes. I know that vampires can't get vampires pregnant but….we've had guests in our bedroom. Better to be prepared. It's a habit.” His oddness sparked my curiosity.

“Hmm,” he seemed perplexed. “I wonder if this would be considered a weakness, though, I doubt Cazador had the mindfulness to think about reproduction when negotiating his hellish contract.”

That idea made my veins run cold. The possibility of pregnancy filled me with dread.

“Him as a parent? Can you imagine? Did he even remember how the deed is done?” I made a crude attempt at a joke but Astarion smirked nevertheless.

“He did, darling.” My beloved glanced at me wearily. “But he had no interest in actual children. Why raise his own competitors? Besides, he would've created total monsters.”

Something inside me shivered. I took his hand in mine, caressing it gently.

“I wouldn't put it past devils to make it possible. If not for anything more than pure fun and chaos, my dear.” His fingers stroked my skin.

“I cannot lie that it makes me curious. That I want to see what our offspring would look like.” I was staring at the floor, trying to stifle my nervous chuckle. “Yet I have to be honest with you, I don't think that I would make a good mother. If our offspring turned into uncontrollable monsters I would kill them with my own bare hands.”

I felt a squeeze around my palm.

“Out of us two you're definitely the more well-adjusted one. You had doting parents, you know how it ought to be done.”

I was unable to control my manic grin.

“I'm not fit for parenthood. All my memories are tainted, even the brightest ones.” I turned to look at Astarion. “What about you? Have you been thinking about it?”

The gaze of his ruby eyes was subdued and melancholic.

“Maybe? My dear, i've lived through enough to know that there's nothing I can give to a child. I have no desire to raise a tyrant, a spiteful brat, or a bloodthirsty fiend. Our current life satisfies me completely…however…i have thought about it, as one naturally does, about the 'what ifs'. Having a child should invoke feelings of joy and I feel no such emotion.”

I exhaled and cupped his face, covering it with thankful kisses. Astarion gazed at me with surprise.

“I'm glad we feel the same. Just thinking about pregnancy and parenting fills me with greater dread than fighting the Netherbrain.”

My love grinned as he wrapped his arms around me.

“We know ourselves too well, my flame. Offspring take too much of our valuable time and resources. It's better spent elsewhere.” He rubbed his face against my neck.

“My thoughts exactly. It would make an interesting project for research purposes, but the kind of project where you put the subject out of it's misery when its done.” I laughed and Astarion tightened his arms around me, kissing my neck.

“I have plenty of potions in my night stand, darling. I've made sure to not leave behind any unwanted gifts.” He cooed in my ear. “Once we secure our future home we shall find a way to deal with our pesky spouses.”

The way he pronounced ''spouses'' was so diabolical that it made me fall for him all over again.

“So considerate,” I purred as I kissed his lips.

After further communications we agreed to several rules and set the date. There wasn't any point in dragging this out, hence the signing would happen next week. The conditions of the marriage were simple: no fuss, no guests, no dramatics. We were to sign the contract in Arrnevae castle, stay the night (possibly longer if we were up for it) and return home. Regular visits were due between our estates but both of us were established enough to know that we had a life outside this union.

When the time arrived we had a long bath, put on our finest clothes and jewellery and flew to Arrnevae estate. The wedding registration was settled to occur in the afternoon. We shapeshifted down the road. It was a cold and foggy winter's day, the air was milky and landscape painted various shades of grey. We walked up to the door and knocked. A servant let us in, guiding us to the big hall.

Our wedding outfits were black and lacy and our make up was dark and alluring. Thirza and Uldreyin were waiting for us in the vast empty space. Arched windows let in some of the milky light but not enough to brighten the room. Brother and sister were dressed in long silver gowns and decadent silver jewellery. Headdresses, belts and rings – these two embodied the elvish essence. I doubt that our fashion choices were a hindrance to them but I had a feeling that they viewed us as an exotic treat. The clerk was sitting behind a desk, papers and ink spread out in front of him.

Both sibling greeted us with a regal smile. It was apparent they appreciated the effort we had put into our appearance, it helped to made everything just a little more formal.

“Good day.” Uldreyin was the first to greet us. “Would you like some wine?” He pointed at the carafe on the desk.

“How kind.” Astarion smiled charmingly as we both reached for a cup and Uldreyin filled them for us. “Trying to get us drunk on the first day of our marriage? I think we're going to get along just fine.”

Uldreyin laughed whilst pouring himself and his sister a drink.

“I know you had a long journey in the cold. Ask and we'll get you anything that you need.”

“We're not used to hosting guests,” Thirza chimed in with a smile. “Forgive us if we misstep.”

“You mustn't worry, you've been nothing but kind.” I replied, drinking from my cup. “Where are your parents? Aren't they celebrating with us?”

Thirza smiled apologetically.

“Father and mother took ill. They've become quite frail. They shall meet you once better. Brother told them about your plan and they were happy to see us marry. Can't wait to meet their grandchildren, they said.”

“It may take some time.” I nodded and Thirza laughed while sipping her wine.

“I'm pretty anxious about it,” she admitted to me and I caressed her arm.

“Me too,” I whispered. “Pregnancy scares the life out of me.”

Thirza squeezed my hand, there was something foreboding in her eyes, a certain kind of fear and sorrow. It alarmed me.

“You can tell me anything. I will help you as much as I can.” I promised her and the elf gazed at me adoringly.

“So, shall we move forward?” Uldreyin asked, turning to the clerk.

“Please do.” Astarion replied.

The clerk read us the contract and passed us the quill. We signed our names at the bottom of the contract. The siblings signed the document after us and the clerk waited for the ink to dry. Then he rolled up the papers and placed them inside his bag.

“Your marriage is finalized. I shall return to the city hall and catalogue the document. Your copy is here. My congratulations.” He left the copy on the desk and exited the room with a servant by his side.

It felt odd seeing a piece of rolled-up paper which carried such importance and joined our future with this noble family. Just scribbled ink on a dead tree, just another made up law. The marriage was pretty traditional on paper – we were married to the opposite sex. Uldreyin to me and Astarion to Thirza, yet we had agreed that keeping it traditional wasn't in our best interest.

“And so it is finally done! Welcome to the family!” Uldreyin said raising his cup and we smashed our cups into his. He rang his bell and ordered the servant to bring us refreshments. The two large plates consisted of different breads, cheeses, meats and sausages. The servant took the copy of the document and we sat down on a bear rug that was in front of the fireplace. Uldreyin provided us pillows and blankets. The tray with the plates was standing on the floor.

I tasted all the refreshments meanwhile Astarion was reserved with his food.

“Forgive me that I'm stingy with compliments today. I'm very distracted but, rest assured, you two look spellbinding.” Uldreyin flirted.

“Why thank you,” Astarion replied. “We were aiming to please. Allow me to return the compliment. Both of you are absolutely stunning, isn't it right, darling?” He glanced at me and I smiled.

“Indeed. I love your long hair. Can I touch it?” My eyes wandered shamelessly on Uldreyin's body, bouncing to his sister.

The elf didn't seem to mind at all.

“Please do.” He craned his neck with the most charming smile and I picked a strand of his long, silky hair. I could never get tired of the texture of elven hair, it was always so carefully maintained.

“How incredibly soft. What's your secret?” I asked playfully.

Uldreyin's face lit up as he started explaining his routine. I kept stroking his hair as we discussed various herbs and hair care techniques.

“I thought your beloved taught you all about elven secrets. He must be well aware of them, judging by his hair.”

“His routine is pretty simple. He grew up in Baldur's Gate so he's practically human. His beauty is all natural.” I teased.

“Are you two gossiping about me already?” Astarion chimed in. He was having small talk with Thirza but was immediately involved in our conversation.

“Uldreyin complimented your hair,” I winked.

“Really?” Astarion inspected us calmly. “Are you wooing Arsenia by complimenting me? That's an interesting technique, though, it might work on her.”

Uldreyin gazed at the vampire with an alluring smirk.

“Arsenia told me that you grew up in Baldur's Gate. Please don't take it the wrong way but it explains a lot. You're the most progressive, most modern elf i've ever met.”

Astarion's eyes narrowed suspiciously while he maintained the most enchanting smile. Although he was still suffering from memory loss, and his exact childhood remained a mystery, this was an acceptable part of our lore.

“Are you saying that i'm not elf enough for you? I can confirm that there's nothing unusual about me, well, apart from the obvious. You'll find out swiftly if you choose to travel anywhere in Faerûn.”

“It's not at all what I meant!” The elf hurried to apologize. “The elves here tend to live in the past. They're clinging to the way of life that was common ages ago. Blame the closeness of ancient forests, these fey-ridden pockets keep away newcomers and innovation. Our city grew thanks to the craftsmanship of local talent, natural resources and new roads, but it's not comparable to a bustling giant such as Baldur's Gate. I don't wish to offend you. You're well-travelled, it's simply obvious.”

“Hmm, i've made many friends here and I have yet to see anything backwards. This place is as free spirited as our home town, if not more.”

“Free spirit has always been a part of the elves.” Uldreyin smiled. “We should be more free but our ancestors mimicked human traditions when they started constructing this city.”

“Baldur's Gate has outgrown itself,” Astarion said tenderly. “It hosts many dangerous places that put the wild forests to shame. Are you keeping an eye on the news? It's facing destruction every few years. How people still dare to live there is beyond me.”

Uldreyin stared at Astarion adoringly.

“Nevertheless, I wish to visit it one day. Rather sooner than later.”

“Fair enough, just wait a little. Give the people time to rebuild the ruins.”

“I wouldn't mind visiting it either.” Thirza sighed. “Or any other big city. Even if for a short time.”

“And yet we are here. Running from one.” I chuckled.

“You said that you grew up in the wilderness?” Thirza asked.

“Yes. I still miss it sometimes. The nature, the freedom.”

“An you, Astarion, how do you feel about living in the wilderness, as city folk?” She turned to him.

“We spent long nights camping in the forest during our adventures. I learned to appreciate it. It was freeing. Far from prying eyes.” The vampire smiled enigmatically.

Thirza was visibly captivated by our devotion to nature and each other.

“Astarion, what did you do in Baldur's gate?” Uldreyin asked suddenly.

“I worked as a magistrate.” His reply was short and polite.

Uldreyin finished his cup of wine and placed it on the floor.

“We hired a person to research you and they found that someone bearing your name had stopped working in the town hall a long time ago.”

Thirza tilted her head playfully.

“Not now, brother. It's our wedding day.”

“I am simply curious,” Uldreyin answered innocently.

Astarion and I looked at each other. We had made sure to check the records – well, bribed someone to show them to us, to be exact – in order to destroy any documents mentioning his death, and great was our surprise when we found nothing! Astarion told me then that it must have been Cazador who erased them, so that nothing could be traced back to him. Ironically, Astarion's tombstone was the only evidence of his death, and we removed that quickly.

Astarion's face was illuminated by a smug little grin.

“You did your homework, Uldreyin. How thoughtful. Yet I think it would be wiser to ask such questions before marriage.”

Uldreyin delighted him with a cunning smile.

“Worry not, dear lover, we're satisfied with this arrangement. We didn't see anything that we weren't expecting to see.”

“You are running from a prosperous city, inherited money, your beloved is well-known among the criminal underbelly. It's evident you're running from something.” Thirza added with the warmest disposition. “I hope my words don't come across as an insult, dear Arsenia.”

“No offence taken.” I reassured her.

I was certain that Astarion would find a way to wriggle out of this situation. I filled his cup with wine and the vampire took a long sip.

“Why not, lets toss the cards on the table. I worked as a magistrate, that part's true,” he said in a serious tone. “The thing is, I wasn't the most impartial one. Certain people offered me money for a verdict that suited them. I was young and all that power went straight to my head. I neglected truth when it paid well and my corruption brought me much unwanted attention. Certain folk weren't too pleased with my ruling, so they cursed me. I was fired from my position soon after and went into hiding. I spent years looking for a cure, until finally finding it in the arms of my true love.”

Astarion glanced at me with longing and I fell in love again. I loved watching him pull the wool over people's eyes. He was magnificent at his craft of deception, polished over years of vampiric slavery. There was just one thing that made me wonder – how much truth did he weave into the story about his corruption? Either way, he made it sound believable and it was all that mattered.

Uldreyin and Thirza didn't react the way we thought. Both siblings weren't shocked or repulsed, they simply studied us with a smile.

“My, my! What an eventful career. I presume you have learned from your mistakes?” Uldreyin asked cheekily.

“I most certainly have! Never get caught!” Astarion replied and the siblings burst out laughing.

“You're still fairly young, dear lover. There's plenty of temptation around to pull you back to your bad habits.” It was hard to tell if Uldreyin was flirting or insulting him.

“Oh, i've aged in dog years,” the vampire answered alluringly. “Besides, I have Arsenia to keep me out of trouble. I promised her to be good.”

He glanced at me and I smacked his leg.

“Stop it! I'm not your babysitter.”

“I would never think of you that way. But she likes giving punishments.” Astarion said while sending me a seductive glance.

I shook my head slowly.

“And rewards too, of course.” The vampire added slyly.

“That certainly makes a great motivator,” Uldreyin stated.

“Oh, she is an excellent motivator.”

“That's only because you're a treat. And I like treating myself.” I said looking at Astarion.

The chemistry between us was strong enough to electrify the whole room. I leaned on my arm and pulled his face towards myself to kiss his lips. The vampire replied eagerly, devouring me like a starving beast. It was fair to assume that the conversation about our dodgy past was closed for the day. Our kiss grew longer than was decent.

We pulled apart as I resisted an urge to bite him. I wasn't surprised at all to see that the siblings were watching us, they probably didn't avert their eyes during the whole performance. There was something captivating about a happy relationship, it could give the feeling of missing out to even the happiest singles.

“Do you have any leftover kisses for thy spouse?” Uldreyin asked slyly.

“There may be a few.” I grinned and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him into a heated kiss. Uldreyin opened his mouth to let my tongue in. He rubbed his tongue against mine, matching my passion. I gave his silky hair a needy tug and Uldreyin bit my lip. I ended our kiss, pushing him away. A gentle touch on the shoulder made me turn my head. Thriza's enigmatic smile was warming my cheek.

“May I have a taste as well?”

“Be me guest.”

The lady pressed her mouth against mine with an appetite. I widened my mouth but was immediately dominated by her tongue. Her hand travelled up my bodice and squeezed my breast.

“Your beloved is a good kisser,” I heard Uldreyin say. “We should sample you next. I'm sure it's going to be a pleasant surprise.”

“We're both qualified in the oral department. We take practice very seriously.” Astarion replied.

“Can't say the same, unfortunately. I think we're in dire need of your helping hand.”

I cracked an eye open and saw the two elves merge in a passionate kiss. It was a beautiful act and I felt proud of Astarion. So proud, in fact, that I lifted Thirza's skirts and caressed her thighs. The elven lady deepened her kiss in response, her hands stroking my breasts. All this joyful celebration was making me wet.

The master of the house was the one who wrapped his arm around the vampire's waist. He parted the kiss and whispered something in his ear, to which Astarion grinned to. The elves moved closer to us and I felt their gentle hands on my back.

“My dear, can we join forces?” Astarion asked me.

The two pressed against us, forming a circle. I kissed Astarion gently, taking my time tasting his lips. Then moved over to Uldreyin as Astarion kissed Thirza. My hand remained on her thigh and Astarion joined me under the darkness of her skirt, so that I could focus on Uldreyin. I picked one of Uldreyin's hands and pushed it under my dress, guiding it between my legs. The elf got instantly inspired and caressed his long fingers down my slit. His hands smeared wetness across my crotch as he rubbed my clit. Thirza spread her legs and I dove into her slick folds, meanwhile Astarion played with her entrance.

Uldreyin took my free hand and guided it under his dress. His thick cock was eager and squeezing against his leg. I grabbed his member and started to massage it. I took a peek and noticed that Uldreyin had opened Astarion's trousers and was playing with his manhood. Thirza was kneading my breast, as well as, opening the buttons on Astarion's jacket and fondling his chest. We were a mess of grunting, fondling, horny pleasure seekers.

Astarion and I were working double as hard, engaging hungry mouths and bodies, yet finding a minute to seek out each other in this circle of flesh. Astarion's jacket and shirt were off, meanwhile Uldreyin had untied my bodice and loosened the gown around my shoulders, so I was able to slip out my arms and gather the bodice around my waist. Siblings took turns devouring Astarion's chest: they tasted his neck as if he were a sugared treat, stroked his skin as if handling the finest silk and indulged in tender biting. Their hunger was so desperate and overbearing, it felt like their first meal in years.

Soon they turned their attention to me and I was swept away by the sensation of mouths and tongues. It was overwhelming, a wave of friction, moisture and heat. I was bitten, licked, caressed – eaten alive. My body melted into the flesh that tasted me, my loins throbbed in ecstasy.

Astarion joined us and we merged once again. Various hands reached out for one another, grabbing and stroking – anything was an acceptable target, a cock, a nipple, a vulva. I fumbled around in the midst of moist writhing bodies, grabbing anything that was within reach. One of the sibling's hand pushed between my thighs and stroked my silky wetness. Someone's cock was grinding against my naked hip. My finger's toyed with every piece of meat they got a hold of.

“It's time we move to the bedchamber. It's getting cold.” Thirza mumbled in ecstasy.

“You're right. Everything is ready for our guests.” Her brother answered.

I opened my eyes to find out that Uldreyin was fully naked and Thirza was wearing nothing but her thin linen chemise. Uldreyin gave us both a hand to help us up. The journey to the bedchamber felt like love making, we passed through a long dark hallway with naked, ribbed stone walls. The bedchamber was warm and lit by dozens of candles, as well as, a lavish fireplace. The bed was pushed against a wall and double the size, likely custom made. A carafe of water, wine and a tray of refreshments was on the table.

The door shut behind us and Thirza hurried to free me from my gown. I helped to pull her chemise over her head as Uldreyin helped Astarion to undress. His hands were gentle, admiring even, he worshipped the elf. Thirza held my waist as she guided me to the bed, jumping on the mattress first and pulling me beside her. Uldreyin and Astarion followed us soon and we melted into a mountain of meat. Legs entwined, genitals rubbed against one another. I couldn't even tell whose all the body parts belonged to that fought for my attention. The sense of smell was my greatest helper.

Someone's face pressed between my legs, making my heart flutter and someone squeezed my hand around an erection. I recognized it soon enough, it was Uldreyin. I tried to look around and discovered that Astarion was hard at work between Thirza's legs. The lady herself was eating me out like I was a ripe plum. Pleasure between my legs was growing quickly, each stroke of her tongue sent fireworks up my spine. I moved my hips and orgasmed immediately. It washed over me like a wave and I slid my hips away from the sweet pleasure-giving fairy.

Thirza delighted me with a cheeky smile as she wiped her mouth. Her cheeks were adorned by a heavy blush, she stood on her elbows on knees, with Astarion's face pushed against her folds. I turned on my back, whilst Uldreyin's cock was still firmly in my hand, and pulled him on top of myself. He followed eagerly, occupying my mouth with a needy kiss. I guided his cock inside me, slipping and sliding in the process. The elf shuddered, groaning as he entered me, thrusting his member deeper into my warmth. I clenched his rear for some motivation, enjoying his ample behind as he fucked me.

I checked in on my beloved, he was on his back and straddled by Thirza, who was riding him as if he was a winning steed. The vampire seemed content and relaxed, which made me happy. Uldreyin was sweating and grunting atop me. Speaking of horses, I liked being the one pulling the reins. I grabbed his hair, twirled it around my wrist and tugged. Uldreyin's head yanked backwards, the muscles in his neck danced as he gasped. I smacked his rear with my other hand. The elf groaned in delight, his long eyelashes fluttering shut as his mouth gaped open.

I spanked him again as his hips were grinding against me. I pulled his hair once more and his body shuddered as I felt something hot and slippery against my thigh. Immediately I reached for it and squeezed it into my fist. Uldreyin made a hoarse whimper of lust, his spine curved and he began to grind his hips into my hand. His cock was slippery from my wetness so the process went rather smoothly. I yanked his hair and the elf mouthed a shaky moan, orgasming into my fist. I pulled his head over for a mean kiss and his lips melded with mine.

Uldreyin took his time lingering on my soft lips, then flopped down beside me and pulled me into a cuddle. We watched Thirza who was grinding her hips atop of Astarion, hands resting on the vampire's chest, long hair sticking to her sweaty back. She reached her orgasm right under our observant gaze with a fluttering sigh, yet didn't stop riding him. She rode him until he came inside of her and lay down on his chest to relax.

“She's so dedicated.” I whispered with admiration.

“She is.” The elf agreed, smiling. “She likes you. It was important that we both do.”

“As it should be. Life is too short for unhappy unions.”

“Couldn't have worded it better myself.” Uldreyin covered my shoulder in kisses. “I hope you don't mind if we have another run later in the day? We have some unfinished business.”

I pressed my hand that was coated in his seed against his chest, smearing it across his skin.

“You mean, you delivered your gift to the wrong place?” I taunted him with grin. “Someone got a little carried away.”

Uldreyin looked at his filthy chest and uttered a soft lustful chuckle.

“I think anyone would be in our place. You two have a talent for bringing out the worst in people.”

I circled my finger around his fluid-coated, glistening nipple.

“The worst? The best, more like! We're known for our therapeutic effects.”

“Or besotting effects…mmm…i can't wait to fill all of your places properly next time.” Uldreyin kissed my neck. “I'll need some rest, wake me up if you need anything or ring the bell to get the servant.” He left a few passionate kisses on my neck before getting comfortable and closing his eyes. Astarion seemed peacefully asleep in Thirza's arms, so I waited until everyone's breathing became slow and monotone.

I wasn't feeling tired or foolish enough to miss such a great opportunity to explore the castle. I got off the bed and put on one of the silky robes that were so graciously left for us on the clothes pole. The fabric was thin, airy and quite see through but it was better than haunting the place nude. The day was still young as I wandered into the endless hallways, the light coming from narrow windows was hazy and colorless, I was yet again surprised by the deafening silence of the castle. This place felt dead. I tried all the doors on my way, some were open and revealed themselves to be nothing more than unused bedrooms, closets, bathrooms and places used for storage.

I walked back and hurried up the stairs to look around the floor above us. The air was colder here with no signs of life. My bare feet made little to no noise as I attempted to open all the doors. One was a beautiful bathroom, one was a bedroom with furniture hidden under white linen, one was a carpeted room filled with various weapon displays.

Upon opening another door in the endless row of stone wall I caught a whiff of a strange odor. It was so faint that it was barely there, yet my vampiric senses detected it easily. I peeked through the gap in the door, it was a large room with ornate rugs and tapestry. The room was numbingly cold and the pale light coming from the window made it appear hazy. Seeing no visible source of the smell I filled my lungs again, trying to decipher it. The smell had a herbal note with bitter undertones, it took me a minute to comprehend what was bothering me about it, it felt unnatural, artificial even. This smell was not the smell of decay, nor filth – it reminded me of a potion.

Even more curious now I pushed the door wide open and stepped in. I saw luxurious embroidered armchairs, a wooden table with paws and animal pelts on the floor. I walked further into the room and turned, realizing that the room was much bigger than I first thought. There they were, the source of the smell, just to the right of me – two greyish brown withered bodies in a bed, their long hair draped over pillows and hanging down the side of the bed frame. I got closer to them, bending forward to study their skin. They seemed dried out, yet bearing no signs of decay, insects or scavenging. Their bony hands were resting on top of a thick quilted blanket, the pleats of their thin linen chemises moving in the draft.

“Who are you?” I mouthed, wondering if the spell that allowed to talk with the dead would even work on these two.

The two bodies were wearing rings and earrings, all lavish and made with spectacular craftsmanship. I pushed aside the hair of the body closest to me, revealing a dried out pointy ear.

“Oh…” I sighed.

The door behind me shut with a bang and I straightened my spine knowing that I was no longer alone. I turned my head and locked eyes with the intruder. It was Uldreyin, fully nude with long disheveled hair, who was staring at me without blinking. The look in his eyes would've made me shudder had I not used it on my victims during the peak of my career.

“Are these…..who I think they are?” I asked gently.

“Why did you sneak around, Arsenia? Why couldn't you stay in bed?”

“Why not, Uldreyin? Aren't we a family now? Families tend to share.”

Uldreyin walked up to me whilst burning me with his eyes, briefly glancing at the two dried out corpses without any emotion.

“So this is why your parents didn't come to the wedding. I'm indescribably curious to know what they did to deserve this. Oh, i'm not judging, some folks just don't seem to understand when to let go.”

“Are you now?” He stated calmly.

“Yes. Besides, I need to know what you used. They're in perfect condition. I'm even more curious why you didn't bury the bodies.” I leaned closer to him. “Or what you're going to tell the council members. Surely they'll ask.”

Uldreyin looked up at me with a deathly stare. His arms wrapped around my waist as he shoved me onto the bed and I heard the bones of the untimely departed snapping under my weight. Uldreyin climbed on top of me, sitting on my hips.

“I'm really sorry that you had to see this. I truly enjoyed the time we spent together.” He said sincerely but not without a hint of cold-blooded insanity in his voice.

His strength took me by surprise but I enjoyed playing the damsel in distress a little too much.

“I though you wanted to redeem your family's crime. That you wanted to prove everyone wrong.” I said while trying to act scared. Trying to ignore his weight on my hips was quite hard.

Uldreying tilted his head, running his hand up my chest and caressing my neck as if pondering how he was going to kill me.

“I did, but years trying taught me that nothing that we do will ever change it. Even our parents didn't believe in our mission. In the end, they earned their fate.” Uldreyin's lips formed a bitter smile.

I slid my hands to my chest and pulled the robe wide open, my nipples hardening in the cold air. Uldreyin stared at them in a lustful daze.

“You can tell me everything. What did your parents do?” I asked.

“This won't save you,” he cooed as he cupped my breasts with both hands, easily distracted.

“You said it yourself, we had a good time together. Things don't have to end this way.” I replied whilst trying to conjure a frightened smile.

“It's such a shame. I don't know what we're going to tell Astarion. Guess he'll be upset and we can't have that.” He mumbled as his hands were playing with my flesh. I devoured his body with my eyes, feeling a surge of heat between my thighs as I spotted a growing erection.

“Were they good parents? Were they kind to you?”

Uldreyin shook his head.

“Yes and no. Sometimes things get very complicated. They gave us everything but little love. Still seething, even centuries later after losing the war. They never wanted this marriage, you know.” Uldreyin seemed distracted, hypnotized by lust that lulled him into a sense of false security. “They said that we can't marry a pair of criminals. Called you a hellish abomination and him a throwaway half elf. Said we're better off marrying each other.” The man burst out laughing.

“You mean….marrying your sister?” I frowned.

“Exactly. That this would be better than bringing some sick-blood into the family. Me and my sister wanted to escape.”

“You poor things. How vile is that!” I uttered with compassion as I touched his cheek and pulled his head to my chest. Uldreyin's hair felt soft as he pressed it between my breasts.

“Don't mock us.” He mumbled yet his hands remained glued to my breasts.

“Why would I mock you? You could've easily hired me to do the job.”

Uldreyin's hips thrust forward, pushing his erection against my thighs. My loins tingled in anticipation.

“You retired, didn't you?” He exhaled.

“That's true but i'm not against giving favors.” I pushed my hands against Uldreyin's back, lifted my knee off the mattress and flipped us over, pinning the elf underneath me. He didn't even see this coming, uttering a faint gasp of surprise. I climbed onto his hips so that his erection was resting right in front of my crotch, exposed, waiting and vulnerable. My robe fell down my shoulders, only barely sticking to my waist. I could feel the wetness under my seat.

“Still thinking about killing me? You're ruining our wedding, husband.” I delighted him with a grin. Uldreying appeared confused. He raised his hand to cast a spell but I clasped his wrist and pinned it against the bed, whilst pushing my right palm on his mouth. Footsteps as light as a feather echoed on the floor behind me and a pale figure loomed over us.

“How long have you been creeping behind the door?” I asked Astarion and he placed his hand on my shoulder, caressing it lovingly.

“Long enough to get the full picture.” He joked. The vampire was wearing a robe similar to mine. “I heard you leaving and saw that your tender husband went after you. Of course I had to supervise.”

“Good timing, my love. Have a look around this crime scene, it's the neatest one i've ever seen. And we nearly fucked on it.”

“Mmm….i wouldn't have it any other way.” He drawled seductively, then sat on the bed beside me. “We're grateful for all the things you did for the sake of our union, but threatening my beloved wasn't the brightest idea.” Astarion scolded him gently as if telling off a child who was caught stealing sweets from the kitchen.

“Be good now.” I removed my hand from Uldreyin's mouth and the elf stared at us calmly.

“Does Thirza know?” I asked.

“She was the one who poured the poison in their food.” He smiled wickedly.

“Team work, how wonderful!” Astarion grinned. “Now where do we go from here?” His ghostly hand fluttered onto Uldreyin's erection, stroking it gently with the tips of his fingers. Desire gleamed in Uldreyin's eyes.

“I think we all have too much to lose in this,” the noble elf said breathlessly.

“Some more than others,” Astarion said, his fingers gliding up and down Uldreyin's cock. “Were you planning to murder your wife during your wedding night? Shameful! And, ohhh…” Astarion craned his neck as I nudged him gently. “What? Me too? Oh dear, how messy!”

“I though she was going to tell on us,” the elf protested.

I shook my head.

“Murder? Really? And no groveling? Where's the effort, dear husband?” I reached my hand to his chest, twisting his nipple. Uldreyin gasped as a tender frown adorned his forehead.

“You would have listened?” He asked.

“Maybe. I love seeing elves of their knees.” I granted him a lustful smile, grabbed a firm hold of his hardened cock and pulled back the foreskin with my thumb, then circled my finger on his tender flesh. Uldreyin shuddered, still staring at us in lustful confusion.

“I didn't think we had that much in common,” he groaned as I kept teasing his member.

“Clearly, you missed something important.” Astarion stated, lowered himself and sucked Uldreyin's cock into his mouth, giving it a few meaningful strokes before spitting it out. Uldreyin's hips twitched eagerly, disappointed by the abrupt end of the pleasure.

“Can we forget about this misunderstanding?” He questioned.

“Should we, my love?” Astarion turned to face me.

I enjoyed the crimson of his eyes.

“Hmm….they did put in all this work to satisfy us. Before involving us in a crime and threatening to murder us in cold blood, that is. Perhaps? But I do want an apology.” I kissed Astarion and he rubbed Uldreyin's cock as we relished each other's lips.

“What kind of apology?” The elf asked, carnal need written all over his beautiful face.

“An oral one.”

Uldreyin swallowed and wet his lips with his tongue.

“Whatever you desire.” He was visibly desperate to have us and end the conflict.

“What about thy extended husband?” I inquired slyly, hugging Astarion by his waist.

“Whatever he wants,” Uldreyin mouthed.

I felt the waves of lust coming from Astarion and had a pretty good idea what he'd like. I trailed my finger past Uldreyin's testicles and touched his rear entrance.

“Anything?”

Uldreyin looked impatient.

“If he wants to fuck me then he should hurry up.”

“Shh…i don't like being rushed.” Astarion calmed him down. It was his turn to caress the bundle of muscle. Uldreyin's cock twitched. I kissed Astarion once again as he fingered Uldreyin. We heard the elf moan blissfully, trying to stroke his own cock but I slapped his hand away.

“You will fucking behave.” I warned as I climbed over to him, turned to face Astarion, and sat on his face. Uldreyin's mouth clamped to my pussy instantly, his hands squeezing my thighs. Astarion used a spell to summon a bottle of lube from the bedroom and rubbed it on Uldreyin's rear, as well on his cock. As his robe flew open we were presented with a beautiful erection. Astarion got between Uldreyin's legs, lifting his hips off the bed and stacking pillows under his back. A few of those came straight under his parent's corpses as we desecrated their eternal resting place. Another sequence of crunching bone filled the room while we shifted into position.

Astarion guided his cock inside Uldreyin's ass and Uldreyin moaned into my wet pussy. We locked eyes with Astarion whilst he started moving his hips slowly, enjoying each stroke against his member. Uldreyin was licking my clit and it felt like a true delight. I leaned on my arms and stretched my back, crawling up to Astarion and he pulled me into a depraved kiss. His hand held my neck as we tasted each other during the laborious task of fucking our shared husband.

Uldreyin's face felt cold and slippery underneath my seat, I was soaking his soft supple skin like a teeming spring flood. The pleasure was close and calling for my name with desperation. I moved my hips, rubbing my sensitive clit across the elf's tongue and came. It was a powerful wave that rolled up my body and I sat up quickly to unload the overly sensitive parts of me, sitting down beside Uldreyin. His face was glistening from the aftermath of our passion, so vulgar, disgusting and, yet, somehow endearing. The elf was also incredibly flushed, so present and in the moment that he had earned a little reward. He may have been a shitty murderer but at least he was a good lover.

I rubbed my cheek against his cock, stuck out my tongue and licked his shaft to give him an appetizer before the whole meal. Uldreyin writhed in anticipation, eyes glazed over by desire. I proceeded sucking his cock and felt Astarion's tender hand in my hair, caressing me, titillating my scalp. Uldreyin's pleasure-heavy groan was like music to my ears. He was totally helpless, pinned by us from both ends. I felt Astarion's hands grow needier and rougher as it played with my roots. His breathing quickened, forming into delightful gasps of pleasure. The vampire's hand cupped my skull, trembling as it yearned for every inch of my touch. I felt the bed shake, a well as, heard his faint sigh of ecstasy as he reached his orgasm. Astarion pulled out, sat down and resumed my scalp massage as a happy watcher of the show.

I sucked Uldreyin in a growing pace until he cried out in ecstasy, exploding in my mouth. Of course, I was going to return this little gift to its rightful owner. Crawling on my hands and knees I made my way to Uldreyin, then pressed my thumb on his chin.

The elf looked up at me with suspicion in his eyes, he knew exactly what I was going to do. I didn't even have to pull his jaw, he opened his mouth like a good little boy and I dribbled his present right into his mouth. He shut it and I brushed his hair to praise him.

“That's not where it's suppose to go,” our host replied with a besotted grin.

“Nothing goes to plan when you're fucking on the bones of your elders,” I said cheekily. “Here's some advice: next time you commit a crime try to get rid of the bodies.”

Uldreyin burst out in infectious laugher.

“You can't argue that I made our wedding night truly unforgettable!”

I nodded, still lightly annoyed by this unwanted surprise and all the unknowns that it thrust into our plans. I glanced at Astarion and he sent me a look that I wholly agreed with – Uldreyin was unstable and dangerous.

“I'm done for today. My knees are sore and I think I stabbed myself with someone's broken tibia.”

“I think it's best if we return home. Thank you for all the heightened emotions and the brush of danger, they truly added to the experience.” Astarion said with stoic politeness and sarcasm.

“There's no need to leave early! I promise that your lives aren't in any more danger than when you arrived.” Uldreyin lifted himself up on his elbows, he was as cheerful as a maggot on a fresh pile of roadkill. “Unless?” He lowered his voice meaningfully.

“We're not going to expose this little mishap in your parent's bedroom. We still need your support in the council and the weight of your family's name.” Astarion said coldly. “You may end your threats, it's becoming tacky.”

“I'm glad that we understand each other. I will give you my full support, as will my sister. And I will keep your secrets, if you agree to keep mine.” Uldreyin managed to come off as both cordial and menacing. “It almost feels like this union was a gift from the gods. Shall I ready you a ride?”

“No thank you. We'll summon a portal,” I lied with a smile.

Accompanied by the sounds of cracking bone I climbed off the bed and Astarion helped me up.

“How about a bath?” Uldreyin yelled.

We were making our way to the door while fastening our robes.

“We'll wash at home. I think you ought to clean up in here.” I said, pointing to the bed.

“I sincerely hope that our next meetup will happen soon!” The elf yelled as we rushed out the door.

Astarion and I were glad to find that Thirza was still asleep. It made everything just a little less awkward. We got dressed in a hurry, so fast, in fact, that I didn't even put on my corset and Astarion didn't smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt. After grabbing our coats we practically ran to the main door and shifted into bats outside, flying into the fog.

[bloodlessbelmounte]

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?”

——————————————————————————————————

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.

[maydaygmooh]

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.

[selunesdreams]

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.

-----------------------------------------

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.