#technically beta read

[torchstelechos]

Hi! I was looking at your blog and I was thinking about my own emotions during the game and...

My memory is not the best, but I remember that during the first conversation with my friends at the end of Act 2, I... Could really sympathize with Siffrin. Understand what drove him to do this

I mean, when all these characters started talking about how they would all go their separate ways, how they would "abandon" Siffrin (and us as a player by proxy), how they would all go home and just... Leave us aside, just asking to "drop by" sometimes?..

I felt like I couldn't let them go so soon.

And I should clarify, at that point I didn't know that Siffrin was the one causing the time loops, but something deep inside me already knew, so I looked at Mirabelle's game sprite and said "no, you're not going to be let go that easily, that's not going to happen" with tears in my eyes, because I hate saying goodbye, and I felt some... Strange resentment that they wanted to leave so soon, from Siffrin, from me

For me, that ending was unacceptable, unsatisfactory, and I was actually glad that the loops continued, even if it meant that Siffrin and I'd failed our "defeat the king, break the loops" mission, because it meant that I would be stuck with these characters for a while longer

And maybe Siffrin was also happy about it on some level, and I was actually on Siffrin's side here

It's just interesting how Siffrin and the player are so deeply connected on some level that you can feel a similar spectrum emotions that made Siffrin create this loop in the first place

It's interesting how the game pushes you to feel like you're in Siffrin's shoes when the characters talk so much about "going home and asking to visit sometimes" which felt like "leaving you behind"

So when the game told you that Siffrin is the reason the loops continue... I understood it. And even supported it

Hahaha... I hope it didn't sound like a crazy person xd

Good mood!

Howdy!! Happy you liked the stuff in my blog, i have a lot of emotions about the game and the character interactions. Which is why!!! I loved the very in depth description of your emotions about the games character stuffs!! I think its fascinating how well the game can connect the player to Siffrin, especially since the game holds no reservations in telling you that "No. You are not Siffrin. Siffrin is part of this world and you are not" which might sound harsh but it actually makes it very satisfying when you as the player can help Siffrin get his wish in the end. We aren't Siffrin, but we are helping them, and sometimes that means getting really emotionally invested in the same goal.

When I first started the ISAT experince, it was strange how much I felt connected to Siffrin because at first it is very much Oh! I did not feel this with SASASA! So,, its strange how much the different circumstances of the two games can change the outcome of the player's feelings. Going further into this, I did start with SASASA and then went into ISAT which informs an experience that I had not anticipated. With Loop, we were not there from the start and we as the player are only helping right at the end which makes it hard to connect to the same degree as Siffrin but we still care very deeply because of what we have seen. Loop is already knee deep into Act 4 mental anguish, we have no lead up, no build up, just that they are there and we have to help them. And then we fail. But we only find out in ISAT that we fail!! So, at first you can brush that aside as, We can do better! We can help them more than we did before! Then we get into ISAT and its,, different. Because now we know Siffrin from the start instead of right at the tail end of their spiral, we know how important everyone is to them, we know that its going to hurt when Siffrin gets to the end and loops back. We already know.

We have these preconceived conceptions of how this is going to go, but at every step we are wrongfooted because the game cares. Siffrin forgets the parties names, but Loop instantly goes to fix this and we the players can relax. We have someone to talk to! Who knows whats important and helps us get more into what Siffrin thinks because now we have a variable! The others stay the same for countless loops but then we see more of them and suddenly we're right there with Siffrin, we didn't know this about them. We couldn't know this about them until now! But then it grows stale, because now we know. We know, because we are learning with Siffrin. Then we have to focus outwards instead of inwards, because we love them all so much! We care about them! ...and then it doesnt work and suddenly we have to figure out why we're stuck. And it hurts because it starts getting obvious WHY its happening and,, we dont want the characters to leave just like that! There isnt any release of emotions! We didn't help Siffrin like we wanted to! We can't help Siffrin! Only the party can, and from the previous loops we know they'll leave us.

We're stuck forever, and thats horrible. Because Siffrin is losing things he can not lose without it becoming SASASA, and we know that. So when Siffrin starts to lose it, it hurts but at the same time its amazing! Something new! Something changed! Maybe this time, we can help Siffrin! Even if Siffrin is wrong, maybe this time. Except the house is changed, the ending is changed, the party has changed, and Siffrin has changed. And suddenly the thought of explaining hurts, because its the end. The real end!! And we have to be the ones to press the dialogue! We have to be the ones to press attack! We have to help guide Siffrin to their ending! And we do! and its amazing! The party is going to stay with Siffrin, even for a while longer! ... We wont get to see it, but thats okay because we're just here to help Siffrin.

And then we go to the favor tree to let Loop know.

And suddenly it becomes clear we failed someone.

But without them, how could we have saved this Siffrin? How could we have led them to where they needed to go? How could we have broken the loops without them?

We failed the Star, but we saved the time traveler who can help the Star in our stead.

I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT HOW THE GAME PROGRESSES AND HOW WE THE PLAYERS ARE PART OF THE ROYAL WE UNTIL WE NO LONGER CAN BE WITH SIFFRIN OR THE PARTY AAAAAAHHHHH.

Anyway thanks for sending this ask it made me go crazy with how I see the player in relations to Siffrin and Loop <3

[daisywords]

Just submitted a piece to a publication for the first time ever 😍 can't wait to get my first rejection 😍

[kay9leo]

WIP Tag Game

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

@myokk tagged me and seeing how I needed something to get me back into the writing world again after a hiatus, this seems like a good way to get back in 🤗

So while not a "true" WIP, it's an idea stuck in my head since in my original WIP (written and hidden in my computer files) of where Iñaki Martinez Cariaga (or MC) is used, I have Hogwarts Legacy take place in the late 2000s...but what if Iñaki's Ancient magic takes her back in time...to the year 1890? As a play on the name of a title of a famous Mark Twain book, I present a small snidget of an idea that's been flying circles in my head:

A New York Yankee in Hogwarts' Courtyard, 1890

Iñaki walked around Hogsmeade, trying to reconcile the past with the future wizarding village that she remembered before she was sent back in time over more than a hundred years ago.

Hogsmeade was still Hogsmeade with its quint shops, townhouses and stone ruins nearby its town entrance, but it was also different from how she remembered back in 2008.

For one, the MCC or the Muggleborn Cultural Center hasn't been made yet, a place where all muggleborns would go to get a taste of home away from home (even though it wasn't truly a taste of home for her, with her home being an ocean away in New York). Two, the Shrieking Shack building didn't exist yet and three, there was no Tim Howards Coffee Shops yet - the only American magical coffee shop chain that somehow made it across the pond.

If you think about it, I might be able to run into Tim Howards when he's still a baby in this time period. He doesn't become a famous Quidditch player until the 1920s. Iñaki frowned at that thought.

"So, what do you think? Is Hogsmeade up to your standing Yank?"

Iñaki blinked out of her thoughts and looked over to her right to see a brown haired boy, Sebastian Sallow giving her a confident smile despite the nervous look in his eyes. He was currently giving her the grand tour of the place. To her surprise, Sebastian wasn't the cocky boy he made himself out to be before the duel that he lost in DADA class. The entire walk, Sebastian was friendly, jolly and curious about her homelife back in America, never once meeting a Yankee. Soon that became her nickname when he saw how it made her smile as he asked questions to get to know about her a bit more.

It was hard to be tight lipped about her homeland. Especially as far as he and everyone but Professor Fig knew, she was just another girl from their era and out of her element because she was the new kid in a new country and NOT being stuck in the wrong time period. She had to be careful about what she said, to reveal little about the future as possible like Professor Fig and all those time traveling books and movies taught her before.

While she ran into some more recognizable names - Weasleys were a dime a dozens, Prewett was an extinct family name in her time period with their remaining line married into one of the Weasleys' family branches and Gaunt was the original family name of the founder of Ilvermorny- there were a few she didn't recognized.

Onai was one. So was Sweeting. And then there was Sallow.

Sebastian Sallow was a name that rang a small bell in her head, but she couldn't remember for what reason it was for as she smiled at its owner with a light smile as she pulled up a half lie.

"I think it's cute, like it's from a storybook. It reminds me of another wizarding village I visited in the past at home..." Or was it future? It didn't matter, it's in my past now... Iñaki thought with a small painful smile as she looked over the smaller village in this era.

"You really miss home, don't you Iñaki?" Sebastian said as he placed his hand on her shoulder. Iñaki looked up to him with a tight smile, fighting back tears that suddenly appeared in her eyes.

"Who me?" Iñaki chuckled, waving her hand off playfully as if she could physically fight off the emotional pains that came every time she thought about the new country she found herself in due to her dad's new job, the time period that she didn't belong to or the possible reality she might be stuck here for good and might never see her parents, family, friends or even her neighbor's pet dog ever again.

Heck, she might be in the history books of another country and her loved ones would never know what happened to her.

And if she let one tear escape, the whole dam would break and she wasn't certain if she would survive the floods of her emotional pain since she woke up in 1890 after accidentally tampering with a magical place she thought nothing of. It wasn't like it was a time turner. Just a bunch of standing stones that reminded her of Stonehenge that stood in up in a forest nearby Feldcroft that called to her for some reason when she was flying around, trying to free up her mind from the thoughts of being homesick.

She was really far from home this time around.

"Yes you. You seem to keep your distance from everyone you know? We don't bite." Sebastian smiled at her. "Take it from someone that had to move before, you'll find yourself fitting in sooner than later. Natty practically befriend you -"

True...Iñaki thought.

" -Ominis seems relaxed and happy to be around you since you met him your first night-"

It probably helps that my first thought of his surname that I told him was that one of his ancestors rejected her family's prejudicial pureblood beliefs and founded Ilvermorny and not of his infamous descendent that is Tim Riddler...or what ever his name was.

" -in the Slytherin Common Room-"

I was a Gryffindor in my time period.

"-and I do need a dueling partner in Crossed Wands." Sebastian winked at her. "Yeah." Her voice croaked. That's what it seemed it was good at doing since she moved to London for her Dad's work. "I-" She cleared her throat with a smile. "-I DO like dueling."

Dueling made it easy to forget, to not remember that she was no longer home. That there was no DeLorean or ruby heels she can tap together three times to bring her back to her time period, to her world.

It wasn't until the Troll fight she had with Sebastian that she thought, maybe she didn't need a time traveling car or magical red heels to go home. Not when she felt that same magical force that brought her to this time period flow out of her when she defeated -no vanquished- the troll.

If Ancient Magic brought me back to the past, I'm going to find a way to use it to get back to my own time with no problem. Iñaki thought with a smug smile as she helped repair the town back, unaware of the only flaw in her plan as Sebastian Sallow gathered her for a quick drink at the Three Broomsticks on him.

And never once did she notice the awe in his eyes as he looked at her or the growing heart he wore on his sleeve for her the longer she remained stuck in the past. She would have noticed it if she looked back, but the only flaw in that was this:

Iñaki was too busy looking forward to finally go back home, back to the future where she belonged.

No Pressure Tags: @theladyofshalott1989 @ps-cactus and whoever sees this and is interested in writing as well/needs a small push to return to the writing world 😁

Thank you @myokk for tagging me and helping me to slowly return to the writing world for a bit after the hiatus I took💖🥰💖

[nyxi-pixie]

it frustrates me everyday that we have such a wonderful thriving resource for improving media literacy, helping new authors learn technical writing skills, allowing older authors to hone their skills or figure out how to write styles/genres/scenes theyre unfamiliar with BUT BARELY ANYONE USES IT. ao3 is free work built by the hands of everyone from the earliest beginner to the most learned professional. interaction encourages you to engage more because to tell an author what you liked is to CONSIDER what you liked. to think about why it worked and what went well. thats going to improve your technical skills and it helps you think more deeply about the content itself. community learning is humanitys best tool, and for reading and writing you HAVE this Perfectly designed community AND YOU DONT USE IT.

[obstinaterixatrix]

Usopp asks sanji to write out the recipe of a favorite dish of his and let him borrow the kitchen to make it but sanji keeps Observing and Hovering

set vaguely after arlong park I guess??

—

Despite what anyone on the crew might think, Sanji isn’t actually against having other people in the kitchen. Working in a restaurant means working with a bunch of assholes who know how to sauté shit without setting themselves on fire. But while the bastards on the Baratie could barely be considered chefs, they were still—technically speaking—chefs.

He doesn’t miss the cacophony of steel and iron, of stupid banter, of order after order after order. He doesn’t miss elbowing past Patty on the way to the fridge, or heckling some dipshit’s new recipe until it’s actually worth serving, or cleaning with the geezer at the end of the day.

What he does miss is working with someone who knows how to hold a knife.

“That’s not how you fillet a fish,” Sanji says. Once he’s sure Usopp’s not in danger of accidentally cutting himself, Sanji reaches over to reposition Usopp’s hand, finger off the spine of the blade.

Usopp makes a face, probably torn between deferring to Sanji or spinning some story to brush him off. They’re still feeling each other out—it’s been a weird leap from ‘reluctant waiter and picky customer’ to ‘crewmates bound by the whims of their idiot captain.’ In the end, Usopp nods, carefully cutting into the pike while holding the knife in his new and improved posture (smart choice, less chance of losing his grip and a finger).

“You’re not cutting close enough to the—“

“Do you not want me here?” Usopp blurts out. “In the kitchen, I mean,” he clarifies, and for a second it looks like he’s going to continue, but he. Doesn’t. No backpedaling, no deflection, no convoluted over-explanation, which—isn’t Usopp supposed to lie? That’s his whole thing. Sanji knows that much, at least (but not much else).

“I’m trying to be nice,” Sanji says, eventually. To his own surprise, he means it. “If I didn’t want you here, I would’ve kicked you out.”

“…Oh.”

Usopp continues filleting the pike, and Sanji doesn’t point out the bones that are stuck in the pieces.

Alright, so, the thing is. Spending nine whole years surrounded by thugs will apparently have an impact on someone’s social skills. Which doesn’t matter with Luffy—he doesn’t really care about what Sanji says (unless it’s about food). It doesn’t matter with Zoro—Sanji doesn’t give a shit about that mosshead. And with Nami-chan, Sanji doesn’t have to think—a single glimpse of her radiant beauty is so soul-stirring that Sanji’s simply helpless against the flood of praise that springs forth ❤️

So how the hell is he supposed to talk to someone like Usopp?

Thankfully, it’s not a question Sanji has to consider for too long—Usopp clears his throat, taking the lead.

“I actually did this a lot before joining the crew,” he says, which—knife technique aside—sounds plausible.

“Yeah?”

“I must’ve grilled a thousand—no, ten thousand fish,” he continues, which sounds like bullshit. “By the time I was eight, the whole island was lining up for a taste of the great Captain Usopp’s legendary fire-grilled fish! Using spices foraged from the forest and fish caught by spear, not even the most refined palate could resist the food I poured my heart and soul into! But you see—” and here, he smiles, bright but somehow bittersweet, “I’d only cook it for my loyal crew and the princess we’d all sworn to protect.

“Now, as astounding as my own recipe was, I’m man enough to admit when I’m beat. And yours beats mine, no contest. So someday, I’d… like to cook it. For my old crew.”

It’s impressive, the way Usopp manages to be blindingly honest while lying his ass off. Sanji’s not quite sure what to make of it. If anyone else was feeding him this crap, he would’ve told them to eat shit, but…

…

“Hey,” Sanji says. “Tell me about your old crew.”

And, with a wide grin, Usopp does.

(The fish comes out fine. A little over-seasoned, but edible. They’ll work on it.)

[swansong-if]

Happy New Year! I hope you're doing well. I was just wondering if there's anything new to report since the last progress update 2 months ago? There's not many fairytale IFs around and your writing is so atmospheric, I can't help wanting more!

Happy new year to you!!! 😘

Tysm for your kind words, glad you like the story even tho there's so little of it available. Extremely valid question, I'm so sorry I'm horrible at giving progress updates because I have no concept of time 💀 I'd say the chapter is proceeding steadily? Slowly, especially bc I keep adding scenes or changing stuff and then having to go back to change stuff in the prologue so it makes sense lmao but it's been going surprisingly well! I took a break during the holidays because 1) I was working 2) holidays, but hopefully I'll be back on track these days so I can give an actual estimate!

[resldue]

DROPS THIS HERE AND RUNS

@dipplinduo atting you bc u expressed interest skdjfhkjsdf

[clumsily-stacked-fandoms]

If anyone wants I would give anything to beta-read for someone. Or edit. PLEASE just reach out to me and I’m good at it trust me i used to be my english teacher’s favourite

[snazzy-suit]

LLoG Progress Update! (Complete!)

I'm pleased to announce that "Hey! Creatures! Leave Them Kids Alone!" is finished! It took almost five years (90% of which I didn't even look at this story), but here we are. I was starting to think this day would never come ^^'

Let's see the final results, shall we?

Chapter 5.4 - Complete. Word count: 8,257

Chapter 5.5 - Complete. Word count: 8,357

Chapter 5.6 - Complete. Word count: 6,048

Chapter 5.7 - Complete. Word count: 8,113

Chapter 5.8 - Complete. Word count: 8,529

Chapter 5.9 - Complete. Word count: 6,874

Chapter 5.10 - Complete. Word count: 6,775

Final Word Count: 52,953

==

Me: I'm going to try and trim this down a little.

Me, an absolute clown: *proceeds to add over 2,000 more words*

Jfc will I ever change? -_-

Anyway, I'm going to give things one last look over and then I'll post chapter 5.4 sometime in the next few days. A week from then, I'll post chapter 5.5 and so on. Then, once the complete story is posted, I'll post a separate work that contains an alternate, deleted, missing, and unused scene that didn't make the final cut. The tentative title for this is "How Can You Have Any Extras If You Don't Eat Yer Meat?!" (a bit of a mouthful, I know lol).

Extras Total Word Count: 2,262

Until then!

Tl;dr - The chapters are done and the first will be posted soon

[astarionsdarlingjade]

Ruin

Chap. 1

word count- 8k+

Astarion/Named Fem! Dark Urge

The gif isn't really relevant but I didn't want to not put anything. I'll probably change it later when I get the photo mod figured out.

This takes place ten years before the events of the game.

The lights and sounds of the tavern bombarded her senses as she walked through the wooden creaking doors. The place was packed with patrons of all sorts; humans, dwarves, and even some elves, and all of them were drunk out of their minds. A few heads turned as she made her way towards the bar, but most of the patrons were too absorbed in their drinks or their own conversations to notice her. She was used to it, though. 

It was best for when she needed to find her targets. Taking a seat at the bar she kept the hood of her cloak low so as not to be seen. The Blushing Mermaid was certainly busier tonight, filled to the brim with sailors fresh from a long haul and dock workers ready to drink their pay.

She would need to pick at least one tonight to sate her father's prayers. Her eyes landed on a tiefling woman, who sat in the far corner of the tavern. Her golden irises were framed by black, and her navy skin glinted under the candlelight. Away from the bustling of the sailors, she sat nursing one drink that seemed to have been sat there for hours. 

Their eyes met, and she quickly sent her a small coquettish smile before setting her own drink down. She moved to leave her stool, but before she could, a smooth and velvety voice reached her ears.

"Hello, beautiful."

Forcing herself to stop her movements, she turned to look at who exactly had the gall to approach a Bhaalspawn. Even if it wasn't obvious. Looking over her shoulder revealed a pale elf, his eyes a deep shade of red, framed by silver locks. Not too unusual, but there was something rather unnerving about how they seemed to glow so vibrantly.

She sighed inwardly, hoping that he would quickly leave her be, so that she might focus on the tiefling woman. He must have taken her sighing for a sign because he smiled and took the stool beside her.

"I've not seen you here before. What brings you to a place like this?"

His smile was a bit too practiced, she noticed. He also made sure that his lips were sealed tight. Strange.

What a pretty corpse he'd make-

She bit back a snarky response and forced a polite smile instead, "Just passing through."

Please leave, Lord Bhaal must have a sufficient sacrifice before midnight, and I refuse to displease him. She prayed silently.

But he didn't, instead, he regaled her with many a line about the beauty of her hair, and her eyes. All the while she had to bite back her temper and pray to her father for him to simply leave her be.

After what seemed like hours, she finally spoke again. "Do you wish to buy me a drink, or simply sit beside me?"

Her question seemed to startle him, but his composure returned, and he grinned at her.

"I can, but only if you promise me one thing."

Her patience was running thin. The clock was so close to ticking midnight.

Her eyes fell back to the far end of the room, the tiefling woman was gone, her drink still sat on the table, nearly full as it had been before.

Gods damnit-

"Give me the pleasure of your company for the night. And I'll buy you any drink you desire."

She nearly spat in shock. So that was what he getting at? He wanted to... take her to bed? 

His tone was laced with seduction as he continued, "And when morning comes, you can have your way with me. But first, let me have mine with you."

She could practically hear her father's screams of rage as the clock struck 11.

Lord Bhaal demanded blood. Demanded a sacrifice-

"Very well," she acquiesced, swallowing back thoughts of how he would look covered in blood. His own, of course.

She would have to make this quick, she was already late.

"Come," She said, taking his hand as she led him through the creaking doors. "I am at your disposal."

"For now," she added, her voice low.

The streets of Baldur's Gate were deadly silent for once, the only noise came from the taverns and the docks, and even then the sounds were distant, muffled by the buildings. She had led the elf through the alleys, weaving and darting through them, until they found a quiet spot near the harbor, where a single ship was docked.

"What's this?" he asked, an edge to his voice.

She turned and looked at him, and gave him a seductive smirk. "We're alone, and the streets are quiet."

It didn't take him long to understand her meaning. He wasted no time, and before she could get another word out, his mouth was upon hers.  The kiss was heated and messy, and he grabbed her waist and pushed her against the wall of a nearby building.

She pulled away and smiled. "Impatient, are we?"

"Only because I know what I want." He said, returning her smile.

"And what do you want, hmm?" she asked, still a bit breathless from the kiss.

He smirked and moved his hands down to her hips. "You. Now."

She laughed. "So forward! You haven't even given me your name," she said, with a tone of faux offense.

"I could say the same to you, darling," he retorted.

"Rhea," She said, whispering it softly.

He repeated it, rolling the name on his tongue.

"Such a pretty name, for such a pretty thing," He purred, pulling her closer.

She pulled back, her lips ghosting over his ear. His breath hitched. Her tongue darted out and traced the shell of his ear, before she nibbled on his earlobe. He let out a small, choked moan, before he felt her hand press against his bulge.

"And yours," she asked quietly, her hand moving slowly over his bulge. 

Even without the clock, she could tell it was just past midnight. Surely, skipping one night of sacrifice wouldn't be too harmful. If anything, Orin would more than make up for her share.

"Astarion, darling," He breathed, his lips ghosting against hers.

"A lovely name," she replied, rolling it on her tongue as she closed the distance. This kiss was much softer, and gentler than the first. It was tender and warm.

It felt nice. She let herself get lost in the moment. In his touch. His hands were cool, and it was almost easy, to forget her lost sacrifice. To forget who she was. Almost.

She pulled away, her breathing heavy, and her heart racing. Astarion looked at her, his eyes wide, and his lips slightly parted. It was hard to tell under the dim streetlights, but there seemed to be no color to his pallid face. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off with another kiss. It was hungry, and it burned through her like wildfire. Intoxicating.

"Oh, darling. I am going to enjoy making you scream," he said breathlessly. 

"Is that a promise?" She asked coyly, tasting the salt from the sea on her tongue as she spoke.

"Indeed it is, " he murmured. 

She laughed dryly. "We'll see."

He pushed her forward, her back hitting the wall. He was on her in a second, his mouth attacking hers, and his hands roaming her body. She groaned, her hands tangling themselves in his hair. He chuckled and grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. He began to trail kisses down her neck, nipping and sucking on the skin as he went. She gasped, arching her back, trying to get closer to him. His other hand snaked up her thigh and under her dress, slowly dragging his nails across her skin. She moaned, rutting her hips into him.

"Gods, you're so eager." He pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the wall, and his knee found its way between her legs, forcing a whine from her lips as she ground her hips against his knee. Surprisingly desperate for friction. 

"Astarion..."

"That's it, darling. Moan my name. Let the whole city hear you."

He was surprisingly careful not to bite into her flesh, his teeth grazing just enough for heat to pool in her stomach. She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut. She could feel her arousal building, her body aching for more. For him.

He grinned, and pulled away, his hand leaving her wrist. She groaned at the loss of contact, and he silenced her with a kiss. His hands unclipped her cloak and let it slide to the ground before pushing her dress up and past her hips. Astarion broke the kiss and looked down at her, his eyes on fire. Cool air hit her heated core, and she shivered. 

"My, my, darling," He cooed. "How wet you are for me. Are you always this ready, or am I just special?"

"You talk too much," she growled, pulling him down into another kiss.

Her hand slid between them, and she rubbed her palm against him, drawing a low moan from his plush lips.

He pushed her hand away and pulled her dress up. She frowned and her brow furrowed, as he stepped back.  He knelt, and she swallowed thickly, anticipation coiling in her stomach. She leaned back against the wall, her hands gripping the rough bricks for support. He began trailing kisses up her thighs, and her breath hitched. His hand caressed her thighs, and he ran his tongue along her inner thigh. She let out a gasp, and she could feel him smirking against her skin.

"So sensitive." He ran his tongue ran closer to her heat, and she shivered.

" Astarion ... "

"Tell me what you want, darling."

"Touch me, please," She gasped, her nails digging into the bricks.

He paused his movements, seemingly lost in thought before he spoke again.

"Mm. Beg for me," he said, his eyes not meeting her gaze. Distant-

She gritted her teeth. "No."

He paused and looked up at her, his crimson eyes a blaze. "Beg, or I'll leave you like this."

She threw him a glare. Her, beg? For some-

His cool breath fanned over her cunt, making her stomach flutter, and her face hot. 

"Fine," she gritted through her teeth.

"Please."

"Please what, darling?" he cooed. 

"Please, I want you to fuck me. Right now."

He smirked. "Good girl."

He dropped to his knees and buried his face between her thighs. She felt his lips on her, and she threw her head back, moaning loudly. His tongue was warm, as he licked a line from her opening to her clit, circling her entrance.

"Oh, yes. Fuck, yes," she moaned, her fingers tangling themselves in his silver hair.

He moaned, his tongue lapping at her folds. Her hips bucked as her toes curled in her boots. Laughing, he began to tease her, his tongue flicking at her clit, his fingers slid into her hot cunt.

"Please, please, please," She pleaded, her voice desperate. 

A far cry from her usual disposition. Not even he could get this much of a response from her. 

He moaned, the sound vibrating through her, his fingers curled inside her, and his tongue teased her clit.

She was a mess, her body trembling, her eyes screwed shut, her breaths coming in gasps and short bursts. He smirked, and began to thrust his fingers in and out of her faster, his tongue swirling around her clit.

"More. Please, fuck. Please, please," she begged, her voice breaking.

He obliged, adding a third finger, and pumping them in and out of her. She could feel herself nearing the edge, her body shuddering, her thighs quivering. She was barely able to keep upright, the brick of the wall rough against her hands.

"Hells," She moaned, her hands fisting his hair. He hummed as he sucked on her clit, his fingers steadily working her to her climax.

"Oh, fuck, fuck!" She screamed, her body tensing as her orgasm washed over her, her vision white.

He licked her through her orgasm, his fingers still thrusting inside her all the while. She gasped, her body shuddering, her eyes clenched shut. He pulled away, and licked his lips, his eyes shining with amusement and his chin glistened with her juices.

"Now, love. Tell me, how was that?"

She stared at him, her eyes wide. It certainly didn't compare to her usual feelings, but-

He stood and leaned in, kissing her. Probably thinking her speechless.

"That good, hm? Well, it's a good thing we have the entire night to ourselves." Before she could answer, his mouth was on hers, his tongue slipping past her lips, and his hand gripping her thigh.

She could taste herself on his lips, making her whimper, her hands fisted the front of his shirt. Her hands reached for his belt, quickly undoing it before the sound of drunken shouts and slurred speech interrupted her.

Astarion pulled away, looking over towards the docks. A group of sailors were walking away from the taverns, their voices loud and their steps clumsy.

"Shit," She cursed. It would probably be best to return-

"Perhaps we should finish this  somewhere else." Astarion's voice pulled her back to reality. "Somewhere, with a bit more privacy?"

She smirked and nodded. "That would be wise." She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. "Though I rather think you're enjoying this."

He smiled and shrugged. "Can you blame me?"

She shook her head. "I suppose not."

He looked at her, his smile faltering. "Shall we?" he said as he offered an arm. 

She paused and bit her lip before linking her arm in his. "We shall."

The door to her temporary home was quickly unlocked, and she ushered him inside.

He looked around, his eyes taking in the small room. "How quaint," He remarked, his eyes scanning the walls before they landed on the bed, the sheets and pillows still messy from when she woke.

"I prefer not to stand out," she said her voice brusque as she latched the door behind him.

He chuckled and turned back to her. "Fair."

His hand went to her waist, pulling her closer. Astarion leaned in and kissed her, his tongue slipping into her mouth. She moaned into the kiss, her hands tangling themselves in his hair, pulling him even closer. He hummed, his other hand moving to her hip. She gasped as he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as if by instinct. He carried her to the bed and laid her down, his mouth never leaving hers.

She broke the kiss, her hands tugging at his shirt. "Off," She demanded.

She ran her hands over his chest, her eyes trailing over his body. "Very," She murmured.

He leaned in, his mouth attacking her neck. She gasped, her back arching into him, and her hands gripping his shoulders. He chuckled and continued his assault on her neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. Her hips bucked, her eyes rolling back into her skull. His hands slid down her sides, grabbing her ass and pulling her closer. "Please," She breathed.

He smirked and ground his hips against hers. "Please what, my dear?"

She moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. "I need you," She pleaded.

He chuckled and moved his mouth lower, his teeth grazing her collarbone. "Where?"

"Everywhere," She breathed.

She whimpered, her hips bucking, her back arching. "Astarion. Please. Fuck. Touch me."

He hummed and pulled away, his hand sliding up her dress. His fingers found her clit and began to rub it.

He smirked at her, watching her fall apart under his touch. "Like this, darling?"

"Gods yes," she hissed, her eyes squeezed shut. "Like that."

He moaned, his fingers circling her clit, his tongue running along her throat. She shuddered, her hips bucking up.

"Please. Please. Please," She pleaded, her voice already hoarse.

"So needy," He slid a finger inside her, his thumb continuing to circle her clit.

She gasped, her legs spreading wider, her body trembling as the cool air hit her.

He continued, his finger sliding in and out of her cunt, his thumb teasing and circling her clit. She writhed beneath him, her body aching for more.

He added a second finger, his thumb pressing against her clit. "Do you want me to fuck you?" he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

She whimpered, her eyes screwing shut. "Yes."

He grinned and quickened his pace, his fingers pumping in and out of her. Her hips rocked, that familiar heat pooling in her stomach again. She moaned, her back arching, while her thighs quivered. He curled his fingers, his thumb brushing against her clit. Her hips bucked once more, her back arching into his hand before all pressure vanished.

Her eyes opened, and she looked up at him, her pupils blown wide, her face flushed. "Why did you stop?" she wined, her voice an octave higher than its usual tone.

He laughed, and moved his hand, his fingers running up her thigh. "I want to taste you."

He leaned in, trailing kisses along her collarbone. She gasped, her body tensing, her eyes screwing shut as the kisses trailed down her neck, his hand slowly making its way down her stomach.

"You want me, don't you, darling? Want to feel me inside you, filling you, stretching you?" He nipped at her collarbone again, his fingers rubbing circles on her hip.

It was maddening, the feel of his fingers along her burning skin, his open-mouthed kisses were bruising, surely to leave a purple mark in the morning. 

"Please," She breathed, her eyes opening.

The word came so easily now, something she had never had to even utter before. A word that was many others last to her. 

"You beg so beautifully. It would be rude not to grant your request." He pushed her dress up and over her head, and tossed it to the side as his eyes roamed her exposed body.

She shivered as the cool air hit her skin. He smirked and leaned in, his lips ghosting over her nipple before he instead opted to kiss her again, his tongue slipping into her mouth, his fingers dancing over her hip. She moaned loudly, not bothering to cover her mouth this time, her hands were too busy fisting the sheets. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to her neck, trailing slowly down to her breasts.

"Please, Astarion," She breathed his name again, like a prayer. 

He laughed, his hand sliding down her stomach, his fingers teasing her clit. She writhed against his hand, her body needed more.

"I could get used to hearing that," He purred, his fingers pushing into her.

And she could listen to his voice all-day-

"Oh, fuck."

He moaned, kissing her shoulder, his hand still moving, his fingers pumping in and out of her faster and faster. She shuddered, and her hands clenched the sheets tighter. She writhed beneath him, her eyes screwed shut, her breath ragged.

"Fuck, Astarion."

He laughed and continued to pump his fingers into her, while his mouth found her breast, his tongue circling her nipple, his teeth scraped against it. 

"Gods." she moaned, her hands now around his neck, pulling him closer, her fingers tangling in his hair.

A familiar coil started to tighten as his fingers fucked her faster.

"I could do this all day. Watching you fall apart beneath me. Hearing you moan, feeling you writhe, seeing your body shake," he murmured into her skin as his lips moved from her breast and trailed up her chest, neck, and jaw before his mouth finally met hers, his tongue pushing between her lips.

Her nails dug into his shoulders as she broke it, her voice slurring, "Please. I need you. 'Need you to fill me. Make me yours."

He groaned before pulling away from her, his fingers sliding out of her. He forced them into her mouth, making her taste herself.  She sucked on them, licking them clean as he watched her, his eyes hooded, his lips parted.

He hummed and pulled his fingers from her mouth, his hand going to his breeches. Astarion undid his pants, freeing his cock. The sight of his cock made her bite her lip, her stomach twisted, and a shiver of excitement ran through her.

"Mmm, I do enjoy the way you look at me, darling." He positioned himself at her entrance, his fingers digging into her thighs as he pulled her closer.

"You're so beautiful, Astarion. So perfect," She cooed, as her hands trailed down his chest. She pushed him back onto the bed and she straddled his hips, her nails dragging across his skin, leaving faint pink marks in their wake. Surprise crossed his face, as if he hadn't expected it.

But he recovered quickly. "Oh, am I?" His smirk returned, though there was something else there too—something she couldn't quite grasp.

His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared. His voice was husky and his words were breathy, "Do tell me, what about me is so perfect?"

She hummed, as she trailed a finger up his neck and jaw. She cupped his cheek and leaned in close, their lips almost touching, but not quite. Her other hand trailed down his body to wrap around his cock, pumping him slowly. He was already hard for her. "So, so many things." Her tongue darted out and licked his bottom lip before she took it between her teeth and bit down.

"I'm sure, darling, but please do be a dear and enlighten me," He rasped.

She grinned wickedly. "I think it would be better to show you."  He leaned his head back, allowing her access to him. 

She kissed and sucked at the skin, leaving red marks that would certainly be gone by morning. Her lips trailed down to his collarbone, her teeth scraping his skin. She felt him shudder, his body trembling as his grip tightened. She pulled away, a satisfied smirk playing across her lips.

"You're trembling," She said, her voice teasing.

He swallowed, his eyes meeting hers. "You've been such a tease," His voice was hoarse.

"Am I?"

She leaned in, her lips ghosting over his neck, her teeth grazing his earlobe. "Well, maybe I should tease you some more."

He groaned, his hips thrusting up, as his cock brushed her stomach.

She pulled away, her hands gripped his shoulders, and her legs pinned him down.

"Or," she whispered, her voice dropping an octave, "Maybe I should ride your cock." She moved her hips, her heat grinding against his length. He let out a gasp, his hands grabbing her ass, pulling her closer.

He moaned her name, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his breath hot on her skin.

She smiled, her lips ghosting his jaw, her hands fisting his silver locks, pulling him closer before she pulled away again, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into the skin. She lifted herself off of him, forcing a whine from his plush lips, his cock brushed against her folds before she paused and sat back, a wicked grin playing across her lips.

"Hm ," she hummed, her eyes half-lidded as she watched his chest heave.

"Say 'please," she said.

"What?" His voice cracked, his eyes widening.

"You heard me." She ran her nails down his chest, a sharp cry escaping his throat. "Beg me."

He swallowed, his mouth going dry. His cock twitched, and precum smeared against her inner thigh. He sat up quickly, his fingers tangling in her hair, his lips crashing into hers. He kissed her hungrily, his tongue swiping across her lips. She gasped and allowed him entry, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Please," He muttered, his voice breaking while his hands gripped the sheets. 

She forced a smile when he averted his gaze, her hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a few slow strokes. He threw his head back, his body arching off the bed.

"Fuck," He breathed, his eyes fluttering closed, his jaw slack.

She smiled and wrapped her hand around his cock, her thumb stroking the head.

She shifted, her knees bracketing his hips, before her lips trailed down his chest, her tongue tracing patterns along his skin as she moved down. He groaned, his body trembling, his eyes screwed shut. "Look at me," She ordered, her voice dropping an octave.

He nodded, his eyes fluttering open, and his gaze met hers.

"You're so beautiful." She pressed her lips to his chest, and her tongue flicked against his nipple, eliciting a moan from him. She pulled away, and licked her lips, her hands stroking his length, her thumb tracing the vein, her hand gripping the base, her nails digging into the sensitive skin, causing him to shudder and moan.

She smirked and moved her mouth down his stomach, her lips kissing and sucking his skin. He bucked his hips, his cock brushing her cheek.

He breathed her name, his voice ragged.

She looked up at him, and smiled, her tongue flicking over his tip. "So desperate," she murmured as she gripped the base of his cock, her hand sliding down his length. His face contorted, unreadable as he struggled to form words.

Her tongue swirled around his head before her lips closed around him. He groaned, his hands tangling in her hair, pushing her head down further.

His breath hitched as she sucked his cock, and her hand cupped his balls. He moaned again, his grip on her hair tightening as his hips thrust up against her face. She hummed, her mouth taking more of him, her nails digging into his thighs. He let out a whimper, his eyes screwing shut, his hips rocking upward.

She pulled away, her tongue dragging along his length. "Don't close your eyes."

He nodded slowly, his eyes fluttering open, his gaze meeting hers. She moved her mouth further down his cock, her teeth grazing his skin. He shuddered, his body trembling. His hands wove into her hair tighter, his cock sliding deeper until he hit the back of her throat. His hips thrust up to meet her mouth. He sped up, the only sounds in the room were the sound of her sucking his cock and his moans.

She gagged, her nails digging crescents into his skin as his hips stilled and his cock twitched, his hot cum filling her mouth.

She moaned as she swallowed. Astarion groaned, his eyes fluttering shut, his body shuddering as he pulled away, a smile on her lips as she swallowed thickly. She moved her mouth further down his length, her tongue dragging along his skin, licking up all the remnants of his release, her tongue flicked over his slit, his hips jerking up one last time.

He pulled her head away from his cock, his fingers still in her hair, his cock still hard.

She let out a soft laugh and he released her hair. Her mouth trailed up his stomach, her teeth grazing his nipple.

"Gods," He breathed.

She hummed in agreement, her teeth biting down as her fingers pinched his other nipple, his back arched off the mattress, and a soft moan escaped his lips.

His hands were tugging at her hair again, and he pulled her head back. 

"Astarion," She breathed.

"I want you," She whispered, her head falling onto his chest.

"Mmm," He purred, his hands gripping her hips, his cock sliding against her slick folds.

She whimpered, her hips pressing down, trying to get him inside.

His hands pulled her down, his cock pushing into her. She let out a moan, her body shuddering. His hips thrust up, his hands guiding her. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps as her hips met his. She was so close, she could feel herself about to fall apart again, her walls tightening around his cock. He groaned, his hands sliding up her sides, his fingertips brushing her nipples. 

She didn't think she could last much longer, her vision was beginning to blur, and there were dark splotches in the corners. She was on her back in an instant, his mouth kissing down her throat, his teeth grazing her skin, his hands running up and down her sides. She shivered, her body arching into his touch, her legs wrapping around his waist. Her ankles hooked together, and her heels dug into his ass, pulling him closer.

Astarion growled and thrust his cock into her roughly, his hips snapping against hers. She gasped, her vision going white. He gripped her hips, his nails digging into her skin. She moaned, her head falling back, as her hands gripped the sheets.

"Faster," she whined.

He smirked and pulled out fully before thrusting back in. He set a punishing pace, fucking her hard and fast, his hips slamming against hers.

"Fuck, Astarion." She cried out, her eyes rolling back, her body quivering.

In response, he moaned her name and fucked her harder.

"Good girl," he said, his voice still hoarse.

She whimpered, her hands further tangling themselves in the sheets, as her eyes on him. 

"You're so good, darling. Such a good girl," he praised, his hand reaching between them and started to rub her clit.

His praise, his words, his touch- She could feel herself teetering on the edge yet again, her mind clouding over.

"So close- Come for me."

She swore she could see stars as she came, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Good girl," he said one last time before she felt his cock pulse, his warm release spilling into her.

"Fuck."

"That's it, darling. Take it all."

She whimpered, her hands grasping his shoulders, pulling him closer so that their chests were touching. 

He grunted, his eyes screwed shut, his lips pressed to her temple. She whined as her arms moved to wrap around his neck. He chuckled, his hand moving to her neck, squeezing lightly.

"Oh, fuck," She breathed.

"There we go," he cooed. "I'm going to let you catch your breath, then I'm going to fuck you again."

Morning light filtered in through the curtains, forcing her eyes to open. She stretched her legs out, the silk sheets brushing her skin as she did so. Her brow furrowed, her head tilting. Where the fuck am I? The night came back to her in waves: the tavern, the missed sacrifice, and finally the man with the pretty eyes and charming smile.

"Fuck." She hissed, her face growing hot.

Looking down she saw her dress was gone, she was completely bare save for the blanket covering her. Her cunt was sore, and the stickiness between her legs was a dead giveaway of what she had done the previous night. She looked around the room, noting the clothes scattered about.

Her dress and corset lay across the back of a chair, his shirt on the floor by the foot of the bed, his pants near the door. Both of their pairs of shoes tossed haphazardly across the wooden floor.

The memories came flooding back to her. How his hands roamed her body, how he'd praised her, how she'd screamed his name when she came again and again.

Astarion.

Something shifted behind her. She froze, not daring to look back. She could feel a chest pressed to her back, his breath cool on her neck. His arm was draped across her side, his hand resting on her stomach.

She tried to shift out from under his grip, but he merely tightened his arm and pulled her closer. His breathing was even, a sure sign he was asleep. Well- not asleep, but sill. She let out a shaky breath and settled back into the mattress, his arm still holding her close.

A soft, barely there smile found its way to her lips as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Fuck."

She turned to face him, his hair was a mess, and a silver curl fell just above his brow. She quickly pushed it away from his face, careful not to wake him. Her eyes ran over his visage, his lips were slightly parted revealing the tips of his canines. 

They were certainly shaper than she had expected, it was a miracle they hadn't pierced her flesh.

She shifted closer to him and wrapped an arm around him, her fingers lightly tracing his bare back.

Her face twisted as she felt ridges under her fingertips. Furrowing her brows, she moved her hand back to the spot and pressed her fingers down. She felt him stiffen, his breath hitching. She withdrew her hand as if burnt.

She didn't need to look to know what they were. Somehow, she hadn't registered the scars crisscrossing his back. She supposed she had been too busy the night before. She placed her lips against his shoulder, and wondered where exactly they had come from. 

He was still resting when she dressed and picked up a quill.

"You seem to be in a good mood, My Lady."

The Butler's voice was like nails on glass as she came to a stop. He was the second person to mention it. The first was some follower in the temple, who quickly scurried away after she sent them a glare. She hadn't realized that it was that obvious.

"Oh?" She looked at him and forced a smile, trying to hide her mounting irritation.

"Yes. I haven't seen you look so... cheerful in so very long, I suppose there was a significant sacrifice made in the name of Lord Bhaal?" he said as they exited the temple.

Her nose crinkled in disgust at the smell of the sewers. It was something she thought you'd gotten used to, but it always managed to get worse. "You could say that," she answered, not giving him any other information.

"Very good, My Lady. Your Lord Father will be most pleased."

"I'm sure he will."

No one needed to know that she had neglected her duties in favor of having her brains fucked out by a strange man. Her Lord Father certainly didn't need to know that. The thought of her father brought a frown to her face. He had already been displeased with her for some time now.

"I have a meeting with Gortash, I won't return to the temple for some time," she said, her voice neutral as she pulled her hood down and over her eyes. 

Sceleritas gave a quick bow before disappearing into a cloud of red mist.

Gortash's dark circles were worse, a stressed smile on his chapped lips. "My friend," he cut himself off his eyes narrowing as he quickly approached, his eyes darting around.

"You seem to be in a good mood." His tone was light, but his eyes were cautious.

"I had an...interesting night." She said cooly. 

She tried not to think about her night with Astarion, tried not to remember the feel of his hands and mouth. How he had her pressed against the wall. She shifted on her feet.

Gortash raised a brow. "Is that so?"

"I can tell. You seem-" He paused, closing his next words carefully, "happier than when we last spoke." He paused and sniffled, a frown settling on his features as his eyes zoned in on something.

"You've been with someone." His nostrils flared, his eyes searching her face.

She gave him a smirk, a brow raising. " How did you know?"

She felt his eyes move over her body, her face flushed - her neck. There was no doubt in her mind that he could see the dark purple bruises blooming on her skin. Damn. She'd thought that the neckline of her dress would cover the marks left behind. 

"I'm just glad that it was... pleasant for you," he replied, his tone lighter.

Her brows furrowed, his eyes meeting hers. "You're worried," she tilted her head and took a step closer, their noses almost touching, "Why?" 

He shook his head, and turned away. If she had a better look she might have said his expression was one of- jealousy?

Was he jealous? Her smirk widened as she crossed her arms behind her back and followed him through the room. Sunlight highlighted the piles and stacks of books that were littered throughout. 

Books on... "Ilithids?" She questioned, picking up a dusty time, the title nearly faded against the purple background.

He nodded before turning to face her again, "I've been digging for more research on our project," he gestured for her to sit.

She opted to remain standing. The book dropped to the floor with a dull thud, sending up a cloud of dust. Ilthids.

"I plan to involve the research done when it comes to taking Baldur's Gate of course," his eyes were frantic now, rimmed in red from a lack of sleep.

Her eyes stayed on his lips as they moved but no sound reached her ears. She hadn't visited Gortash in months. He was now Bane's Chosen, so she had heard.

The circles under his eyes were worsening, and it seemed he had lost weight. Rhea wasn't one to worry when it came to others' problems, but- she did have a rather close relationship with the man. One he clearly held dearly if the look in his eyes earlier said anything at all. 

Her eyes flitted across the room in confusion. She had yet to see the Tiefling girl he had recently taken into service. She always managed to derail their conversations, into hours long chats about everything and nothing all at once.

Gortash's hand cupped her face, and when their eyes met she noticed how concerned he seemed.

"Is it your Father, again?"

She placed her hand on top of his own before closing her eyes and humming in content. 

Lord Bhaal was certainly displeased with her, after last night. No sacrifice, and she couldn't keep that damned pale elf off of her mind.  And not in her usual, 'I wonder what his insides would look like twisted around him,' or 'I wonder what his blood would taste of.'

What was his name again? It had slipped her mind-

Gortash's lips were surprisingly soft against her own. His hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer. She could feel the heat of his body radiating from under his robes, and a shiver ran down her spine as her eyes fluttered closed. She was the one who pulled away. Her eyes met his own.

"Where's the Tiefling?" She asked, trying to ignore how tightly he gripped her.

A blush spread across his face, a frown settling on his lips. "I had to- dismiss her."

"I thought you liked her?" She cocked her head.

"I did."

"Did?"

"Not anymore," he shook his head, "she had her uses but, not enough to keep her around."

Her brows furrowed, the gears in her brain moving slowly as she took his answer in. "You had a lot of uses for her. What changed?"

He let out a deep sigh and sat down.

"She got boring."

"Boring," she echoed, not quite understanding.

"Yes." He answered.

"I think she was quite the opposite," she said stalely.  She didn't bother to pry further.

"I don't understand," he said,  as he looked up at her, his hands wringing in his lap. 

"Don't understand what?"

She scoffed, her eyes narrowing as she met his gaze. A subject change, how typical. At least as of late. She couldn't recall him being this wishy-washy before.

"Who were you with?" He asked, his eyes narrowed.

She shook her head and laughed, the question taking her by surprise. He had never really shown much interest in who she was with. Although, lately he had been acting a bit more... desperate.

"You don't get a say in my affairs, Gortash."

His eyes softened as he leaned forward. "You do  know I care about you, right?"

She shrugged and moved closer, her knees hitting the armrest of his chair. "You do have a strange way of showing it." She moved so she was straddling him, her hands gripping the back of his chair. His own went to her waist.

"How else am I supposed to show it?"

"By letting me go."

His eyes flashed. "You know I can't do that. I don't want to do that."

She let out a chuckle. "Of course not. How foolish of me." Her fingers tangled in his hair as she leaned closer. "Why would you?"

His breath tickled her ear, his grip on her hips tightening. "You're mine."

Her nose twitched, and her eyes narrowed. "Is that so?"

"You know it is," he breathed, his lips pressing against her neck.

"If I'm yours, then why do you keep asking me who I've been with?" She whispered, tilting her head to the side.

"You can fuck whoever you want, as long as you come back to me."

"How possessive of you," she breathed, her lips pressing against his jaw, his chin, his nose.

"I've missed you, Rhea." His lips captured her own.

"I know," she hummed, her nails digging into his scalp, "and I you."

She lied effortlessly. There had been a time when her feelings were mutual. But that time had long passed. His hands slid over her skin, his movements slow.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" His breath was hot on her skin.

"Hmm," she hummed in agreement.

"How long has it been?" he asked in between kisses.

"Too long," she breathed, her head falling back as his lips moved lower.

The door slammed open.

"I'm sorry to interrupt-"

"Then don't." Gortash's head turned, his eyes meeting the interrupter.

"I've been looking everywhere for you." He gestured to Rhea and took a step past the threshold. 

He was an older gentleman, with graying hair and a permanent frown on his face. Gold horn-rimmed glasses were hanging precariously from his nose.

"What's wrong now?" her voice clipped, annoyed. 

"We have a slight... problem."

"Well spit it out, then."

"You know," the man trailed off, a sinister smile on his face.

She let out a groan and stood, her hand reaching for the dagger strapped to her side. She almost wretched. Orin. The man's face contorted and his body cracked to reveal the Changeling. Her putrid stench filled the room, her long blonde braid matted with blood and... what looked like viscera.

"Dear sister, I've missed you." The words were sickly sweet and sent a shiver down her spine.

"I can't say the same, Orin." Rhea's voice was monotone as her eyes met the Changeling's glossy ones.

Orin ignored the comment, her eyes narrowing as she picked her nails with her blade. "Father's been upset, all in a tizzy if you will," her tone was bored, her eyes meeting Rhea's.

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed," she deadpanned.

Orin's eyes narrowed and she stood, her body towering over Rhea's. "Watch the tone." She spat the words, her teeth gritting.

"Or what, Orin? You'll tell daddy on me? You'll tattle that I didn't give the proper sacrifice? That I didn't come home on time?" She took a step closer, a wicked grin spreading across her lips.

"Father isn't happy." Orin's lip curled.

"Let him come, I'm sure he'll love the welcome party."

"You think you're clever, don't you, dear sister." Orin's hand was cold against her neck.

"I'm not the one that needs to prove myself," Rhea whispered, her hand sliding between their bodies. Her dagger pressed into Orin's stomach. "If you threaten me again, I'll make sure there's no coming back for you."

Orin scoffed, "I, will be Lord Bhaal's Chosen. Only I am his favorite, the only one truly he cares for."

"Keep telling yourself that, dear sister," Rhea's tone was light, but her grip on her blade held fast. She pushed the blade harder against her stomach.

"Just a little more," Orin whispered, her voice taunting.

Orin's hand wrapped around her wrist.

Gortash cleared his throat, and both women turned to face him. He was clearly uncomfortable with the... situation. "I'm sorry, to interrupt."

His eyes stayed on Orin's blade, the tip was pressed against Rhea's throat, and small droplets of blood were dripping from her skin.

"But, we were in the middle of something." His tone was curt.

"And?" Orin raised a brow.

"We'd like you to leave." His lips formed a tight, thin line.

Orin's jaw was tense as her hand dropped to her side limply. "Fine."

She looked down at her blade and smiled. "You made me bleed," she wiped the blood from her waist.

"Goodbye, sister. I'll see you again soon." Her tone was a warning.

"I'm sure." Her tone was dismissive.

"Until then," Orin smiled as she left.

Rhea let out a deep sigh, her shoulders sagging.

"I forgot how exhausting she was."

Gortash was silent, his hand running down her back.

"Is it always like that?"

"Oh, yes." Her tone was sarcastic, her eyes fluttering closed as she sheathed her blade.

"I have no doubt Lord Bhaal will choose you as his Chosen," he assured her.

"I'm not too sure of that myself, these days." She opened her eyes, and her head turned away.

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Nothing of importance," she shrugged.

He nodded and sat down.

"Would you like to continue where we left off?" His tone was hopeful, his hand motioning towards the space next to him.

She sighed and moved closer. "It's going to cost you."

His hand was warm against her waist, her head dropping to his shoulder.

"Anything." He breathed the word, his tone desperate.

She smiled a genuine one this time and leaned closer. "Tell me how the research is going."

He sighed and shook his head. "Fine, have it your way."

The sun was low in the sky, the clouds painted a dark pink. The streets were busy, and she could already hear the sounds of music playing from the taverns. Her feet dragged along the cobblestones, her eyes scanning the crowd. She wondered if he was still there if he was still in her bed. 

He wasn't. His boots were gone, the clothes that were thrown over her desk were gone, and his scent lingered in the air. She wasn't surprised, but she was disappointed. She moved towards her desk and sat down. An envelope was on her desk. It was a plain white, her name scrawled on the front. It was in his handwriting.

"Astarion" she whispered, his name was a sigh that slipped from her lips as she opened the note. The note was short but sweet. She placed the note back on her desk and smiled.

Astarion.

What a lovely name.

Her eyes snapped open. No- 

She admonished herself. She had been too distracted as of late. She rubbed her temples, a headache forming. It had only been a day and yet she could still feel her father's anger, his frustration. Bloodlust- Her mind had drifted again and she hadn't sensed the presence. She was getting soft, and careless.

It was frightening. She had only been in Baldur's Gate for less than a year. Before that, it had been at Moonrise, and before that- 

Her head throbbed, and her temples felt like they were going to burst.

She woke covered in blood, the sky dark. The only light came from the stars and the moon, their silvery glow lighting up the sky. The air smelled of death and the stench of it was so strong it was nauseating. Her entire body ached, and she had to force herself to stand.

A body lay to her left, unrecognizable, entrails pooling on top of a familiar ritual circle.  The air was heavy with the smell of iron. She tried to remember what had happened, but it was a blur. Her legs felt weak and shaky, and she could hardly stand, let alone walk.

She needed to find water, to wash the blood away. Her hands were caked in it, her fingernails stained red. The stench was starting to make her feel ill, and she felt dizzy. She stumbled towards the streetlights, the lights illuminated the cobblestone streets.

The city was quiet, aside from the distant sounds of taverns. As she walked she quickened her pace. Her steps echoed off the walls and the stone streets.

She was alone, and the emptiness of the streets was suffocating. She kept walking, the cobblestones beneath her feet turned to wood, and she slammed her front door behind her, the sound echoing throughout the empty house.

She took a deep breath.

She needed to clean up and rest.

And then-

The water was freezing, and her body ached, the cold a sharp pain against her skin. She shivered, the chill seeping into her bones, her hair wet and tangled. She sat there for a while, staring at her hands. They were covered in dirt and grime, and she could still see the dried blood under her nails.

She washed her hands until her skin was raw, and even then, she couldn't get rid of the feeling. It wasn't just the blood. There was something else. Something was wrong. She stood in the tub and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were different, the pupils blown, the color a shade darker than her normal lavender.

She could still feel her heart beating, but she knew it wasn't the same. Her stomach lurched and she rushed to the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. Her throat burned, and the taste of bile was acidic on her tongue. She didn't know how long she stayed there, her knees pulled to her chest.

The water sticking to her skin had long gone cold, and her body was shaking, her skin gooseflesh.

She should be used to this, waking up in strange places- covered in gore- 

But sometimes it still managed to take her by surprise. Like tonight. Her eyes darted to the door. It was locked, and the curtains were drawn. No one would disturb her. Hopefully. She thought of the first time Sceleritas had appeared, right before she-

She cut herself off- she needed to sleep, to get the smell of iron and blood out of her mind. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she couldn't keep them open. The room was dark, and the shadows danced along the walls, the only light coming from the moon, its pale light filtering in through the window.

She could feel the cold air against her skin, and the weight of the covers against her body. The smell of lavender filled her nose. Her limbs were heavy as her body sank into the soft mattress.

Notes~

Hi! Thank you so much for reading this! I have the next few chapters outlined, I'm just working on actually putting everything together. This is also on my AO3 under the same username

[solarpunkani]

Good news: I finally finished writing the lost doll short story I mentioned awhile back

Bad news: 'can't write a story about a simple plot like a lost doll' my ass, this shit's 15 pages long and probably way too long to be a tumblr post

Neutral news: anyone wanna beta read it?

[koalas-koalas-everywhere]

Let's get the timeline right. On March 27 of 2023 I mentioned this longfic I was writing in the tags of a tangentially related post. I posted a bunch of sneak peeks for Mercelot Week during June of the same year (all together in AO3, you can find the individual posts on my blog on the #wlwaaod or #When Love Was an Act of Defiance tags). On August, I posted another advance (although this one was spur of the moment so it wasn't as polished. Not that I didn't find like 100 typos the moment I posted the others, so) — I also displayed the bad handle I have on months by saying that June had been one month ago. Lastly, I posted this playlist. You were the ones supposed to figure out its purpose on your own.

Now, a little over a year and 205k+ words later, I've started the last chapter, alternate The Sword in the Stone. Unlike the other chapters, I haven't quite nailed down its title. That's the trouble with endings, I guess. The plan now is to, you know, finish it, then go over it once, then start a posting schedule that will give me time to review each chapter again before. I've decided to celebrate this milestone by posting a short fic I wrote around New Years and planned to post back then, but, you know, didn't happen. It had absolutely nothing to do with WLWAAOD, except that it's also mercelot. I hope you enjoy it!

Lancelot was braced with his forearms on the battlements, senses focused on the sting of the cold wind on his cheeks. He had a scarf, but he’d pulled it off and wrapped it around his wrist, eager for the chill that had seeped into the kingdom. Winter had arrived that very day. That very night. 

He’d chosen that spot because it faced the wide fields and the forest outside of Camelot instead of its busy inner streets, where people had gathered to celebrate Samhain. For Lancelot, the date had run too close together as of late, though. Which wasn’t to say that some sort of dreadful remembrance had chased him away. Or, perhaps, it had. The fires seemed brighter that night, blinding; their heat so scalding that even the cold’s burn was preferable. At least it brought fresh air with it. The smoke, the breaths, the sweat of other people had just stuck in his throat until he couldn’t breathe. He’d needed solitude to mind his own lungs, the call of the earth with its breezes, its babbling brooks, the few remaining animals willing to brave the winter. However, they soon became too enthralling, the open night too open. He felt like he could let go of the ground beneath his feet, and he’d fly away.

“There you are.” Merlin’s voice jarred Lancelot’s soul back into his body and he almost stumbled, almost lost his grip.

“Here I am,” he agreed, breathless. “Just needed some air.”

“You disappeared before the festivities started, though.” He was suspicious. He often was, these days. That was perhaps one of the most startling changes to greet Lancelot when he’d come back. The same man who, as a boy, had picked him up bleeding from the forest floor and taken him to his home had then held everyone back when they’d rushed to welcome him, had not rested until every test had been done, almost wanting the proof that he wasn’t really their dead friend. 

Still, some things remained the same — now that they were past all that, Lancelot knew this wasn’t the same suspicion he aimed at the rest of the world. For it, Merlin had built up walls to protect himself, while he was prodding the knight not to close himself off from him. It had never been a problem before, but, that night, it might not have been an unreasonable fear.

“In the castle,” Lancelot corrected him. “Everyone else started earlier. Even in the palace, the staff has been running around all day.”

“All week.” Merlin came closer, leant on the same gap as him. “It doesn’t usually bother you.”

“No, it’s just today,” Lancelot conceded at last. “I’ve been feeling odd.”

“Happy anniversary,” Merlin offered like a question.

“I’ve been telling myself it wasn’t that, but what do I know? Maybe it is that I died last Samhain. My last Samhain,” he amended.

“Your Samhain before last.”

“I made it through at midnight, so I’m pretty sure it doesn’t count,” Lancelot laughed.

“No, it does,” Merlin said, his eyes suddenly carving into Lancelot’s. “That Samhain, you chose death. The last one, you chose life. It’s trying to get you to choose death again. Even the score in a way that the tally’s still on the left side.”

He was babbling the way he sometimes did, as though he didn’t know what he was saying, but he’d never felt more certain in his life.

“All right,” Lancelot said, trusting every word, and Merlin grabbed his face.

“You must choose life again, Lancelot.”

He kissed him. Lips chapped, even sticky from dried spit, but they’d been covered by his scarf before he’d gone to talk to Lancelot, so they were warm. Scalding warm, hotter than the fires he’d been trying to avoid, and just as painful. Still, Lancelot pressed into them to escape the cold. They moved, just a little, again, and again, until their lips were the same temperature. Lancelot lifted his hands from where they’d been clutching Merlin’s sleeves, now seeking the warmth of skin. His fingers dipped inside his scarf, brushing then latching onto the pulse beating on Merlin’s neck as though that was what they’d wanted from the start.

His cold hands made the sorcerer shiver and the kiss ended as quickly as it had started. Lancelot didn’t regret having taken off his gloves, though.

“Sorry, was that weird?” Merlin asked after a few moments gasping into each other’s mouths. “I’m thinking back on it and I realise I was putting off a weird mood, before. I’m sorry.”

“You were fine,” Lancelot assured him.

“I don’t want you to think that was me being weird. Even if I was being weird. That is to say—“ Merlin licked his lips. It occurred to Lancelot that they wouldn’t be sticky now, although that would change if too much time passed. “That wasn’t a magic thing or anything.”

“You were fine,” Lancelot repeated and kissed him again.

[thoughtsofthegirlwiththecurl]

I think AO3 should let me add emoji reactions to highlighted sections as I read the way you can in Google Docs. It's extremely fun.

[pocket-size-cthulhu]

I may not be able to write for crap myself, but I AM crazy insane feral about character-driven storytelling and about character consistency and development, so I make for a very annoying beta reader who WILL help you develop your characters and write a more emotionally compelling story

[kiwibirdlafayette]

chaos and balance- the capsize

"i don't think you understand what's actually happening here. If you'd just open your bloody fucking eyes, it's pretty obvious."

Chaos and Balance is a narrative playlist that basically comprises, in a chronological order, my headcanon for the progression of cTom Syndicate and cJordan's relationship through the course of S1, S2, the divorce arc (post-canon part 1), Mianitian Isles and the Aftermath (post-canon part 2, aka Gays on A Boat, Aitheaca, etc.) It started mainly because I really love the potential of using music to tell stories, and how lyrics can be representative of feelings seldom expressed any other way- based on both canon moments, moments I've interpreted as significant to their relationship/overall arcs, and little interludes I've written that take place in between episodes/"off camera" that connect things together in my head. All this being said, it is primarily headcanons, and is purely for fun. dont like dont read lmao

This specific being how keeping in the canon nonsense of capsize x jordan plays a role in cSyndisparklez from my pov :] enjoy!

(Red lyrics are representative of Jordan’s voice, green is Tom! Bolded black is both of them)

The shenanigans of Capsize happen just after falling for the villain,

in which Jordan is forced internally for the first time to come to terms with the fact that yes, he is in love with his friend/enemy/however you wanna put it. Despite how much he annoys him, despite all of his questionable behavior, despite it all, he has fallen head over heels for this absolute bastard of a man, and hates to admit it, but deep down has longed for a kind of affection that he could have.

I'll take my timeI'm not the forward thinker; you read my mind-

But a part of him still remains hesitant, and for one reason or another, refuses to give in, to openly admit it to not just others but himself. It’s at this point (I’ve written in) that Tom’s kissed him twice. The first, just a little peck on the lips he was able to brush off as a joke, just a hahaa ok cool bro that's funny. But the second time, as a cheap play by the zombie to get a purge kill having already caught the Ianitee off guard. It's irritating for sure, to have him weasel his way into free points by taking advantage of a distraction that worked a little too well, but why could he not get it out of his head? It hadn’t felt so wrong, actually, and… he had almost hoped it had been genuine. If it had been genuine, maybe he would have returned the gesture.

Better to leave it unsaidWhy can't I leave it unsaid

Instead they dance around it in banter, blathering on and on to one another in often complete nonsense, refusing to address what’s really on his mind. (You know I talk too much) He could confess, sure. But what happens then? All the meanwhile, Tom is scared he’s losing him. (As I hold your face, I can't find the words I need, and soon the opportunity is drowning)

Never someone all that good with words, he kind of hopes that Jordan will catch on. He has to catch on, sooner or later.. Right?Z

And then Capsize and the Ianitee pirates show up. To Jordan, it seems like she’s interested in him beyond him just being another follower of Ianite, and there’s his escape. Play along, play the part and maybe- maybe he’ll get over this.

You know my type, tightrope across the table I can't keep holding my breath

She seems to be into it. She’s responding to his flirting at least. See. He doesn’t need Tom. An Ianitee and another Ianitee seems more acceptable to him in his head, and maybe would be easier. That about, he’s not really sure.

New wave, no time Red velvet under pressure

But what Jordan does know is that he’s drawn to her. To him, it could be a way to forget about Tom. To the varied onlooker, it could just be that he’s happy to have another Ianitee around. Someone who can relate to his experience, someone who’s out to find their goddess just as much as he wants to. But he continues to conflate the two and pursue her in a way that he won’t realize for years is less than ideal.

It sparks my memory when we parked aside the shore, I kissed you there, the ocean air enchanting It escapes me quickly

Tom on the other hand, is for lack of a better word furious. Not in like a “I’m gonna murder this pirate captain for stealing my man” (because if he’s honest she’s one of the coolest people he’s met and he’s gonna befriend her whether Jordan likes it or not, with him claiming it to be ‘Mr. steal your gal’ which is??? Because does it really seem like he wants Capsize, if not as a spiteful thing)

When Jordan’s not around, Tom and Capsize hit it off, as she finds this zombie who doesn’t want to flirt with her at any given moment a lot more of an interesting person. As a Dianitee, he’s supposed to be their enemy, but for someone so supposedly dedicated to his god, he knows how to carve his own path away from being more than his god’s messenger- something she’s always admired in champions.

You call me poison, but you won't stop coming around- No, you won't stop coming around

For the purpose of perhaps getting Jordan to get the hint, Tom plays into their supposed love triangle, pretending to do things to ‘steal away Capsize’, only feeding into Jordan’s confusion. *Now Tom’s interested in her too? Is he trying to move on from me too? *- clearly to dense to realize Tom’s trying to get his attention back. She even admits to Tom that it's amusing that men seem to keep coming after her, when she’s very much more into women (abridged, but direct quote)

All I want is you- Your violet disposition, My unsound intuition

It all sort of culminates in that moment on Jordan’s ship where Tom, annoyed from his perch, watches his friend make an absolute fool of himself over Capsize, and decides to intervene, taking on the role of “fighting” Jordan over her. Capsize in a way is having a good laugh watching them roll around on the deck of the ship (I’ve drawn this, this is where it all started), starting to see it all sort of come together as to where Jordan could be coming from. At some point, Tom’s got Jordan pinned to the deck, and as one last desperate attempt at trying to communicate what he’s been trying to all along, he kisses Jordan, and much to his surprise, he kisses him back. They pull away, to Capsize’s approving nods, and it's all over.

(Jordan’s attempts at saving this are my interpretation of this conversation, aka one of my favorite chat threads of S1)

In the aftermath of all of that (If I had any semblance of a memory I’d pinpoint when exactly this interlude takes place, but im just ballparking it somewhere after Jordan dies in Tom’s vault bc Capsize doesn’t save him); in which he’s still thinking about what happened that day. Jordan reluctantly confronts Tom who spills it all. He tells him how much and how long he’s been in love with him, and how frustrated it made him that every time he kissed Jordan, Jordan never seemed to reciprocate no matter how obvious his feelings were. He’s tried so hard to make it clear that all he wants is Jordan, he wants to be loved back, he wants to be able to call him his lover. He did what he did in front of Capsize cause the fake ass courting set him over the edge because it pissed him off that Jordan would so quickly go after someone he just met just because she was an Ianitee or whatever to get away from him, because was he really that bad that Jordan had to try to hard to stay away from him? Tom knows he had himself to blame as well, but it felt like a step too far.

Always been looking for something to lose, when I needed something to hold onto.

(This sequence is followed by Pull Me Up, which. If you haven’t seen my CMV that’s the one xD)

Note. For my sanity I choose to perceive that any capsize x jordan moments following are more related to Jordan’s ‘holiest of all Ianitees’ attitude and feeling like he has to be her savior (which is a different aspect of his character arc from the romantic side, which is what I mostly wanted to focus on with this ramble, but i do touch on it a little. It's not as ever present as it could be because I haven’t found the right song to incorporate it into outside of Violet and Talk Too Much) But there is definitely more. This is from what i have notated in my stuff for these two sequences :] enjoy!

[eluxcastar]

I just realised my last post was plagued by the very obvious discrepancy of me realising the previous Knave was a woman halfway through writing it because I started it before Arlecchino's little sisterfication but finished it after it, so in the middle of it, you can see me start calling her Arlecchino's mother instead of her father 💀 that is to say I fixed it and I'm sorry for the confusion this is why beta readers are important don't be like me