#ugh the horn is a spoiler-

[rui-drawsbox]

malmal,,, i could treat u great,,,

[mintglacier]

I need the rebirth sephiroth theme expeditiously

[jazeswhbhaven]

A Successful Hunt in Heaven | React | Spoilers | Prologue

LETS GO YA'LL

First, let me say that this is completely different than Levi's Torture story and when I get a chance to read the rest of this???? I'm pretty sure it's gonna be a 10...

Cause let's jump in???

We start with the fact that MC is standing in front of a throne, everything is in white and angels are calling them Gabriel.

I was like???? AYO ARE WE GABRIEL???

It seems, that we are indeed Gabriel....

it's so good to see our angry bae again, even if he's cussin' us out

not that he can help it, we are literally Gabriel right now. but why the fuck are we????

SO it's flashback time and we're in Gehenna after a big battle. Three kings Mammon/Levi/Beel came to help out and the results were victorious.

Mammon is so that guy because if I were watching him lifting buildings with ease all day, I would. Lemonade in hand like those ladies watching the lifeguard at the pool.

So the kings are talking amongst themselves about Satan reacting to Mammon's saying of "how Gehenna is his so ofc he's gonna help" and Beel saying that Satan would headbutt him with his horns if he heard him and it's surprising that he didn't (foreshadowing??)

Mammon just loves to call his boyfriend small huh? Lol

We know Beel, you like to spy on us. Next you're gonna be randomly showing up when we're showering or something and be like HEY JUST CHECKING UP ON YOUUUUU.

My stinka boo. <3

Anyways....

Leviathan, give me one reason why I shouldn't box with you right now. One good reason other than the fact that I can't fight demons 💀

I ain't payin' you nary a cent back.

But yeah everyone starts to depart though, since the job is done and it's time for the devils of Gehenna to relax and chill!

I'm crying because I like how Levi and Beel's dynamic here is still "Ugh my dumbass best friend that annoys me sometimes" because He was getting onto Beel for being careless and making Bael work too much and Beel was like "Awh but you're closer to me :(((((" and Levi is like "Nah you got 6 other kings" skskskkskskksks And then he drags him away here? I love them your honor, their dynamic makes me crack up each time.

BUT now that this is over and done with we're at the PUB GETTIN' DRUNK LETS GET IT

Even Ppyong comments that he hasn't had a drink in a while and Sitri is over here yappin' about tea and how long it takes to brew compared to just pouring alcohol and throwing it in your mouth. Then a funny thing with Leraye happens...

I can hear him in my head and it's hilarious. Because Leraye why you sayin' it like this? lmaoooo

After being chided that he was being too damn loud in his ear and some other interactions from the other nobles, it's then realized that Satan actually hasn't been around in a while. No one has seen him in a couple days and I'm just like....wait ya'll just been doing whatever and not concerned that your King is literally not around for over 48 hours? o k

We then get Belial/Jjyu busting in the pub and saying there's an emergency meeting to talk about Satan's disappearance. Turns out Zagan and Belial noticed that Satan has been gone for a quite a while, Zagan being the first to notice and so he called the meeting. During this time when everyone is thinking of what's happening and what's going on, with MC thinking more about the "how this happened" rather than the "how can we fix this"??? There's a solution right outside the door.....

BUT FIRST

Paimon is so real because if a bead can shut up Jjyu it really does give us a reality check on how small he is lmao

ALSO POINTING WEAPONS AT THE DOOR? ITS ON SIGHT?

Oh.

oh.

That's my cat daddy right there.

I'm so happy we get to have Ronove content ya'll. And so randomly too. I wonder if we will get other Abaddon devils as a cameo in the other cards??? Hopefully? MAYBE?

So the nobles are wondering who called him there, and it turns out Zagan did.

And he was trying to say that from the beginning but since Ppyong wasn't looking at him, he couldn't translate. To which Astaroth is like "Just speak tho." LMAO

Anyways,

It seems the Abaddon devils love the thrill of danger. Dantalian also seems to love that to where he will literally put himself in harms way. But I mean I guess the devils there are just built different as they keep saying anyways.

So in order to save Satan though, someone has to go undercover as an angel. Problem with that is devils are unable to lie so if they were caught they would immediately just give up and admit they were sneaking in. But MC....

LOL this dialogue had me like??? OMG p l s. First...this is actually for once something I'd say, more in a joking sense even though this is clearly a serious moment.

I also love how Sitri was like "okay but the only thing you know how to do is lie, MC" and I was like...thanks Sitri thank you so much for your support you have no idea how much it means to me /s

But he's right, MC doesn't know how to do anything else which at this point damn we still don't know how to fight with magic or something??? Anything??

Thank you for letting us know this information Ronove. You are a treasure.

So, we end up seeing Ronove's power in action btw. How it works is that he says the words, and they work as long as he doesn't swallow.

R o n o v e

I do not need to know how you were eating food with your butt. Thank you sir. (why did I go there? Because it's a joke that's been done already in another media lmao so if you know you know) Honestly though if not his butt then probably made another hole somewhere or he ate through his dick who the fuck knows this is Hell and he's from Abaddon, anything could go.

He's so hot I'm crying. Like...I'm trying to imagine what a wet voice is and it's making me shiver in a bad/good way.

So his power is in action, he says "you will be an angel" and he pretty much spits in in MC's mouth and mixes it up and tells you to swallow. (reference my thirst post with him saying to swallow it)

So, there's no specifics to his powers. It works, but not the in way anyone would expect. This type of theme in most stories always ends up bad in some shape or form when the words are vague or broad. So yeah MC was an angel alright.....

So we were back in Heaven, and now we understand that MC is possessing Gabriel's body. I wonder if he's aware that's happening and he's internally screaming or if he's just kinda unable to do anything about it and is unconscious the entire time?

It's believable surface wise because everyone is falling for it, even Satan who was cursing and spitting on MC/Gabriel to point where they had to gag him.

Ngl, I'd have a hard time being into this "roleplay" too because he legit doesn't know it's MC so he hates them. It's kind of like a revenge mirror thing from Gabe's christmas card (i still have to do a react on that btw)

THIS????? FACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gabriel needs to make those faces more.

But the entire time MC was pretending to be Gabriel I was like "GURL FOCUS" because they kept getting distracted by Satan looking fine as fuck in those restraints and that gag in his mouth. Which I mean??? EYAH but we're here to do mission rescue. But now we about to do some

Mission I'm going to fuck Satan as the angel he hates. And I'm so anticipating that Satan is going to react and sort of like it....SO YEAH YEAH YEAH INDIRECT WAY OF CXC

I did not originally ship any of the angels with any of the Kings or Nobles butttttt after I get my hands on the rest of this card story I'll be a believer.

Funny thing though is that I did in fact get the artifact for that discounted 250 pull they give us each time and it clearly is a reference to the key from Hellraiser which is one of my favorite Horror films~

we have such sights to show you

Okay but crossover of Kings as each of the different Cenobites when? Cause I need it.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

F! Yuu’s Dad in Twst Wonderland pt. 5

Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.6 Pt.7

Please save Yuu’s dad from the boys in this world.

Turns out the boys at RSA are a different type of annoying

Instead of selfish brutish boy, it’s selfless boy polite boy who lives in a fairytale and doesn’t have the self awareness not to be handing out pre-engagement rings to the first person they fall in love with.

Like he has to give Yuu the “Don’t be a Disney Princess talk”

🦀: Yuu, what’s on your fingers?

🦐: My platonic engagement rings.

🦀: You’re what? W-what’s a platonic engagement?

🦐: They said I was really pretty and could tell I had a nice personality and warm spirit in need of help and a permanent place to stay so they slipped a ring on my finger and said that if I still needed help I could stay with them in their manors and castles and all they wanted in return was my love and companionship.

🦀: That last part doesn’t sound pretty platonic.

🍎🐦: Ah, Yuu, here’s the rest of your platonic engagement letters.

Yuu’s dad snatches a letter and opens one.

🦀: My dear Yuu, I crave your presence and companionship wherever I am. Would you please do me the honor of living with me after your graduation?! Oh God, I’ve made a terrible mistake!

Yuu’s dad shakes the rings off her fingers, grabs Grim, and runs out of RSA.

🦐: Dad, where are we going to go?

🦀: Well we haven’t tried NBC?

~~~~~~~~~~

Spoilers: It didn’t last an entire day due to Rollo’s obsession with Yuu not having magic.

Yuu’s dad literally found Rollo on his knees, hands clasped with Yuu’s, begging her to be with him forever so she’ll never have to deal with those “magic freaks” again.

And so, the father, daughter, cat crew is back at Ramshackle.

Which is also where they see a pile of cards on Ramshackle’s doorstep.

🦐: They’re all Valentines Day cards! I completely forgot today was Valentines Day! Malleus’s card is so sweet!

🦀: Lemme see that. “Dearest-“ ugh- “My thanks for such a truly wonderful present. It is only fitting that I should give you something in return. How about the gift of beauty? Perhaps the gift of song? Or…Well, never mind. Just a joke based on the legends, you know. I shall give you something I picked out myself. -Malleus Draconia.” Sweetie, you do realize he indirectly called you ugly, right?

A/N: Real talk, do not accept the feelings of someone who offers you the gift of beauty. Please do not accept the feelings of someone who says they love you but is indirectly calling you ugly at the same time. I am telling you your self-confidence will plummet if you do.

🦐: Well…you know what it does sound like he’s saying I’m ugly. He thinks I’m ugly…HE THINKS I’M UGLY!! *Wails*

🦀: Don’t worry baby, he wouldn’t know what a pretty girl looks like if she hit him. Hell, his father probably abandoned his mother when he found out what her face looked like and realized it passed onto his son.

🦐: Dad…

🦀: No boy is going to insult my baby directly or indirectly and get away with it.

And so your dad storms out of Ramshackle, leaving you alone.

🦀: Malleus, come here!

What ensues is your dad grabbing Malleus by the collar and giving him this interesting sentence.

🦀: Malleus, I swear to God that if you ever make my daughter cry like you did with that stupid fucking letter, I will cut your horns off and have them displayed as a trophy.

⚡️: Let go of Waka-Sama!

Your dad drops him to the ground and gets a phone call from you.

🦐: He’s here and I lost sight of him.

🦀: Who’s at Ramshackle?

🦐: Rook! I saw him in the bushes with a pair of binoculars, and when I looked back he was gone!

🦀: Oh for fucks sake! Honey, don’t worry, I’m coming back as soon as I can.

🦐: *the phone call suddenly ends*

🦀: Shit, this is so not good. Maybe the cat got him and burned him to death. I hope the cat burnt him to death.

When he returns to Ramshackle, he finds you dancing, albeit very uncomfortably, with Rook in the backyard.

🦀: Hey! Hey! HEY! Hands off my daughter, French creep!

🏹: Non, Non, don’t misunderstand my intentions. I was simply inquiring her status about a visitation to Pomefiore. Vil wanted to see if she wanted some of his unused makeup.

🦀: But why are you dancing with her? Why were you in the bushes? Why didn’t you text her? You have her phone number! All of you do actually!

🏹: well quite frankly because you blocked us, and who wouldn’t want to spend time dancing with such a girl under the moonlight while waiting for an answer to a questi-Ah!

Yuu kicks Rook in the crotch and your father couldn’t have been happier

🦀: Good job, sweetie! Though you might want to kick a bit lower next time so instead of hitting the base of his penis, you hit his testes. Lemme show you.

Your dad picks Rook up and stands behind him so Rook’s body isn’t sliding downward.

🦀: Take another chance, honey!

You take another kick hitting Rook in his balls. You squeal in delight that you accomplished your dad’s helpful tip.

🦐: Yay! I did it! Did you see that?!

🦀: Sure did! Let’s bring the cat for a night time treat out in the town.

Your dad goes inside to get the baby carrier and Grim.

Meanwhile your first and second year friends are slowly walking up to you out of fear for what they just saw.

🦐: Oh, hi! What are you guys doing here?

♥️: Umm…💧💧💧….we were going to invite you to a beach party *sees Yuu’s dad walking out with Grim in a baby carrier strapped to his chest* but now I think we should leave and let you get a good nights rest for tomorrow’s academic activities hahaha!

🦐: Oh no, I can totally come to the party! I’m just going with my dad to the town for a snack!

🦀: *mouthing: you better not try anything or let anything happen to my daughter or else everyone will find you like this* *moves his hand to Rook’s body on the ground*

♥️: ….Yessir!

🦀: Come on, Yuu, let’s take you out for a snack and then you can enjoy your party.

You laugh and skip along with the your first and second year friends while your dad squishes Grim’s toe beans.

[butterflydm]

WoT rewatch (2x03-2x04)

Spoilers through what we know about s3 so far. And only show spoilers, actually. Not sure how I managed that.

2x03

Our big Nynaeve focal episode, though it does still continue and follow through on the other major plotlines for other characters, it's just that Nynaeve gets the majority of the time.

Leane, Liandrin, & Sheriam are the ones witnessing Nynaeve's Accepted Test.

We know that Liandrin is Black Ajah, of course, and I imagine her suggesting Nynaeve so early for the Test was not only to be allowed to teach her but also to traumatize her to make it easier to push her towards the Shadow. Because that's Ishy's goal with all five ta'veren - push them towards the Shadow. I do wonder if the reason he swaps to having Liandrin give Nynaeve to the Seanchan instead is because Lanfear's actions over in the Rand-Moiraine storyline have forced him to advance his plans. Because Lanfear doesn't really care about the other ta'veren at this point, at least that we see in s2 - she only cares about Rand.

I like that we heard about Nynaeve's backstory in s1 and now get to watch it play out.

"Remember, Red is dead." She's afraid of becoming like Liandrin.

This moment between Nynaeve and Test-Tam is so heartbreaking. Him asking after Rand and Nynaeve lying so that she won't break a dying man's heart, and then being forced to leave him there in pain.

And no Elayne around when Nynaeve & Test-Egwene say goodbye because they've literally never met (though she maybe heard her voice through the door).

The whole Romantic Lan riding in on a horse reminds me of what Adelas speculated about Lan & Moiraine's first meeting before she heard the true story.

The sleeves of Nynaeve's coat have really nice embroidery here.

Liandrin is probably thinking partly about Nynaeve here (she does have fondness for Nynaeve at this point) but also about how Ishy will not be happy with her, since he doesn't want the ta'veren dead.

Everything about the Seanchan remains chilling. We do see this particular damane (who can sense women who can channel) on one of the ships that explodes at the end, I believe.

Uno's death works on so many narrative levels, even before we learn at the end of the season that he's one of the Heroes - it's true to his established character and it shows how ruthless the Seanchan are. The added benefit of him being a Hero is that it sets up the Heroes as morally opposed to the Seanchan (especially those being led by the Shadow, but Suroth isn't doing anything here that the non-Shadow Seanchan wouldn't also do at this point, which is a very important point. Suroth moved faster and extended their reach more than Turok was prepared to do, and gets in trouble for it, but her actual methods are Empire-sanctioned from everything that we see on screen and it's important to note that, I feel).

I love Logain forcing Rand into a pointless fetch quest just to test what he's willing to do. Also, given what we know they changed about how women can sense channeling (it's a Talent not everyone has), I think they also gave that Talent to Logain, but for men. The Searcher damane may be seeing a similar glow to what Logain describes.

Oh look, a gleeman talking about the Horn of Valere, that summons the Heroes from the dead to fight for the Light, and then Rand asks Lanfear about it! The Horn gets talked about more in the party scene later too.

Now that we aren't in Nynaeve's Test-world, Elayne exists again!

I tease but this is a very heartbreaking scene. Poor Egwene. Mat stays behind. Rand sacrifices himself, and now she's being told that Nynaeve is dead.

Sheriam sucks at grief-counseling. I mean, it's clear she's not even really trying.

I wonder if Liandrin got told off by Ishy for losing Nynaeve, because it does feel like the plans for Mat accelerated abruptly, like maybe Liandrin is no longer trusted to break Mat to be ready for the dagger/Ishy.

Ugh, but she does fuck with his head hard before she kicks him out.

"A stupid desperate boy who wallows in self-pity, blaming his friends for leaving him."

Egwene & Liandrin's confrontation here is great.

"We Aes Sedai can only speak the truth, so listen to me." You liiiiiar!

Also Liandrin/the Shadow did NOT have Egwene's number correctly lol. Though I guess Liandrin has a better idea now.

Lanfear is loving getting all this attention being the woman on Rand's arm and getting all up in her fantasy world. I like that we meet Anveare here before we find out she's Moiraine's sister.

And Rand gets his first lesson in how politics work (and hates it).

Lanfear is so miffed that Rand isn't sharing everything with her. And miffed about him getting suspicious of 'Selene's' motives in helping him (which explains why she pushes so hard in his dreams later).

I love saidar being represented by water and now Logain using wine as the metaphor for saidin. Also, man, the queer metaphor that feels like it's pushing at the seams of this scene. Especially since it's followed up by still-in-denial Rand hooking up with Selene/Lanfear in the dream she creates for him.

I wonder if Logain actually IS genetically related to LTT (as he claims here). The lore is that the Dragon killed his entire bloodline but... yeah, idk. We know that reincarnation is not related to bloodline but there is a genetic element to channeling.

Mat not able to summon up his courage to go talk to Egwene because he's been fed poison for months that's convinced him she wouldn't want him around. 😭

Min-Mat romance shot down again.

Ishy looks a bit weary here at the start. Maybe because he thinks one of his ta'veren is dead/lost in the Arches?

Ishy doing his best to make Perrin believe that the wolf stuff is directly tied to the Shadow. And Perrin is the first of the ta'veren to learn that Rand didn't actually defeat the Dark One at the Eye last season, so now he thinks Rand died for nothing.

And now Elyas frees Perrin & only Perrin. He's no Darkfriend but he's narrowed down his list of those he cares about to wolf and wolf-related persons only.

And we learn about double-agent Min here.

Selene's inner Lanfear really jumping out in his most recent dream. And she is engaging hard in her LTT fantasies, plus pushing him to channel (and do something destructive because of his lack of control). This seems like something she did impulsively because she was mad at Rand for walking out on her earlier, so I think burning down the inn was not in her original plans.

Elayne's knowledge of White Tower history giving her a base of knowledge, and we see her show so much compassion to Egwene here. Such a good egg. 💜

Nynaeve putting Perrin & Mat into her happy fantasy world, and imagining Mat in such a loving way, giving him freedom over his life but a home base to return to as well. I do think that Nynaeve's world here is pure fantasy from her head and not an alternate reality because everything here is based on what Nynaeve knew and believed as of when she went into the Arches, rather than reflecting the whole world as it would exist, including what she didn't know at the time (aka Rand being alive).

So traumatic for our poor Nynaeve.

She had to know she couldn't actually bring her daughter through, but she couldn't not try.

2x04

Our big reveal episode for Lanfear. It does kinda crack me up that breaking out Lanfear was so epic and then he does the rest off-screen.

I do wonder what circumstances led to Lanfear being covered in blood when she was sealed up, because there did not seem to be blood involved when LTT & co sealed up Ishy in the 2x08 flashback. What was Lanfear up to when she was caught?

I really enjoy all the compare & contrast of the ways that having a channeler in the family can affect the family dynamic, depending on the families involved.

Oh hey chamberpot under the bed, just noticed that. Also poor Nynaeve and her PTSD from the Test. She looks so hollowed out.

Alanna's home seems so nice. ❤️

So Lan is on suicide watch, which he assures Alanna is not needed. Lan takes a moment to process what Alanna says about "your bond wasn't ripped from you, she took it." Given his reaction here, I think this might be the first time this belief of Alanna's has been directly mentioned to him (and she assumes this probably because of the conversation that she and Moiraine had about releasing the bond back in s1).

I think he's taking the opportunity to mine Alanna for information about Moiraine.

While Alanna spends time with her family, Moiraine avoids hers.

Okay, I feel like Barnathas was probably key to Lanfear's plans for Rand but Moiraine moved more quickly than anticipated. And we know that Rand was keeping his plans re: Logain away from 'Selene' (and she was very annoyed about it), so getting some info from Logain helped inadvertently ruin whatever specific plan Lanfear had originally envisioned here.

Going from Lan to Logain really does show us the difference in their mental states pretty clearly.

Egwene's mention of Rand here to Elayne is so nonspecific (someone I love more than anything) and I continue to be very curious how that whole situation will be handled in s3. I assume that Elayne knows by the time of 3x01 about Randgwene, since they were all traveling together for a month.

The wolf visions! I like that the wolves are just, like, sending vibes instead of talking.

Perrin also learns that he's been unintentionally sending his dreams to all the wolves. Very awkward for Perrin.

Hopper sharing his name. ❤️

So yeah, I think Lan is playing into Alanna & co's assumptions here while he bids his time to try to figure out what Moiraine is up to. He's being agreeable.

My current feeling about the bond is that Lan & Moiraine are just incredibly dramatic people and that's why we got the big rebonding scene in 2x08. Like renewing wedding vows. You were already married, you just wanted to recommit. I will continue to keep an eye on what Lan says or implies in the future, but I think it might just be masked this whole time.

Okay, my 2x03 theory about Liandrin is definitely out - I think the accelerated Seanchan kidnapping schedule is down to Liandrin needing to tell Ishy that she lost Nynaeve and then walking it back the next day (I'm assuming via dreams). Ishy doesn't trust her to do the job anymore and hands her task to Suroth, who is more directly under his nose. The timing doesn't work for it to be related to Rand & Lanfear's plotline.

Before the Test, Liandrin was acting like she had all the time in the world to train Nynaeve & mess with Mat's head. Nynaeve goes missing in the Arches and it's suddenly time to immediately toss Mat out on his ear, and then Nynaeve gets hustled off to the Seanchan basically as soon as possible after she comes back.

I think Lanfear keeps pushing the past love angle because she's trying to find LTT in Rand. But instead he just gets a little jealous (over himself lol).

Cute & casual Mat. ❤️

"I'm tired. I can't move."

So cute. Min doesn't appreciate it, but I do!

I do love the theme in this episode of the "Aes Sedai" curse, as Liandrin puts it, of watching their loved ones grow old & die while they stay young.

"The triumph of the Light over the Dark. And dessert after."

Worthy goals!

Anveare successfully blackmailing her big sister into spending time with her - good for her tbh. The family dynamics in this episode are so good. I do think this is what Lanfear would have failed to predict, yeah. Anveare and Logain are both pieces of the puzzle that led Moiraine to ruin Lanfear's big night with Rand.

Both Elayne & Rand talk in this episode about not getting to choose their own fate. Babies!

So Liandrin didn't seem surprised to see Egwene but Elayne is "a complication". It makes sense that she would assume that Egwene would come along with Nynaeve after that confrontation that she & Egwene had while Nynaeve was presumed dead. Elayne really IS a complication, considering how politically important she is.

Min actually struggling with her viewings instead of any struggle just being in her backstory: love it.

So... is Ishy trying to interrupt Lanfear's plans because he feels like she's getting too entrenched or does he have another motive for sending Mat to Cairhien? (secret Cauthor shipper Ishy)

This ploy of Lanfear's was really a very clever way to break through some of Rand's remaining emotional walls towards her. He gets to be her hero and then she gets that confession out of him that she wants so badly when she starts withholding herself from him due to her 'fear' over his 'madness'.

"You are the first woman who's ever seen me as a man. I didn't want you to see me as a monster."

I kinda broke this down as we were going along but: yeah, I really see it, how Rand's love for Egwene is tied to his boyhood and his dreams of a life in the Two Rivers. Egwene's first official act as a woman was to break up with Rand. For Egwene, I don't think that would at all stick out in her memory as A Big Thing, but it makes sense that it would for Rand. Especially since he had to let go of that dream of living with her in the Two Rivers as part of breaking out of Ishy's fake world in 1x08.

And now 'Selene' gets to be accepting of his nature (hoping it will lead to him accepting the truth of who/what she is).

It kinda sucks that Lanfear's romance advice here is actually quite good, because Rand now has a lot of reason not to trust it.

I really do not think this confession was actually gonna get Lanfear positive results even if Moiraine hadn't arrived when she did. Rand is already starting to freak out, even before the throat-slitting and all the blood.

But I guess that's why she tied Rand up. Insurance policy. Lanfear does believe in insurance policies. I'm gonna remember that for s3.

Poor Rand. What a devastating revelation.

[zeepia-tu]

Mithrun and the symbolism surrounding his trauma (short rant)

Warning: dungeon meshi spoilers below cut

There's another post I saw talking about Mithrun and his demon, but this popped up on my twt feed today and it made me so sad

Mithrun, the elf that judged others and looked down upon everyone while projecting a "perfect" image of himself. The guy that looked down on his brother for not displaying characteristics of a noble, meanwhile Mithrun is actually the bastard and illegitimate. Mithrun who tried to be perfect but was still insecure about people leaving him (whether he really cared for them or not).

Idk, just seeing this really hammers down the fact that I think he just wanted to be free of the judgements of others elves and the weight of the society he was born into. He didn't want anyone to harm him so the Demon showed up as a LAMB. The embodiment of weakness - something gentle and incapable of harm. But then it gets bigger - it grows horns - it gets hungrier and more vicious and demon-like. (The other post I saw talked about how goats are often demonic symbols.)

And then he stopped having the desire to care about what people think of him. He stopped being the "perfect elf", yet by the end of the series, he really is able to find peace because he now trusts the people around him that they care for him and love him. UGH I love his arc so much and if I took a day or two I could probably go into more depth but I just had to post this.

[daydreamgoddess14]

Here she is! 🎉

Ella Cole - the only reject at Slough House to view her banishment as a fresh start and a chance to change her life for the better. Ella never again wants to draw attention to herself the way she did at the Park, but the past has a nasty habit of catching up with even the most cautious of people, and Ella is about to find out that keeping herself distanced from everyone is no guarantee she can keep them safe.

Taglist: @theskytraveler @moonmaiden1996 @acrackintheteacup @succulentthief

Masterlist

Warnings: *I want to be super clear on warnings so this might give away a handful of spoilers* Mentions & depictions of DV (not graphic or laboured), minor mentions of SV (not dubcon or rape, more like coercion and 'feeling obligated'), stalking, impact of all of this shit on a child, OFC is a single mother so there are depictions of motherhood. My inbox is open if you have any questions or want to talk 😘

The Escape Artist - Chapter 1

Six months. For Ella Cole, it had been six months of living hand to mouth, trying to pay for flats, bedsits or house shares with mould on the walls and mushrooms growing out of the carpet. Drug dealers on the stairs, unlicensed dogs barking night after night, bits of kids more than half her age with flick knives and vapes. She didn't bother them, and they didn't bother her. She knew this world and understood the ecosystem and flashpoints. She leaned against the front door and wiggled the key, the only way to get it to lock properly. It was still early, quiet in the stairwell bar one other person who kept his hood up and his hands deep in his pockets. 

“Lend us a tenner, El?” 

“I'm skint Dozzer, sorry.”

“Just till tomorrow?”

“No, Doz. Get down the clinic when they open, they can get you something to get you through the day.”

“Ain't allowed in there this week. ‘Ad a row with the security gaffer.” He sniffed.

“They'll kick you out for good if you keep that shit up. I've got to go, ask Mike.”

“Thanks anyway, bab.” She didn't see anyone else on the way out. The girls would still be sleeping, false lashes caked in mascara and lipstick stains bleeding into the soft lines around their mouths. She had to get out of this block, she'd only accepted it out of desperation. The black mould on the walls of the last place stank and it was wreaking havoc with her lungs. Putting her foot on a mushroom growing out of the carpet was the last straw, but after two months she'd also had enough of bumping into addicts and sex workers in the corridors, and she was sick of the girls pimp trying to enlist her. The fellas would love ya, you could make a killin’ babe he told her. Despite the early hour, the smell of weed in the building entrance was overwhelming. 

“Ugh.” A small voice next to her complained. She'd stayed quiet so far. She wasn't always keen on Dozzer, even less so when he was after money. 

“I know, baby, it's gross.” Ella wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulders and guided her out into the street. “It's cold, zip your coat up.” If there was ever a reason to get out of their current accommodation situation, she was it. 

“Can we go to the cafe?”

“Not today, you're in breakfast club.” They navigated the street, avoiding puddles from the never-ending rain and bags of uncollected rubbish. Ella checked her watch, late again. She only had half an hour to get to the school and then on to Slough House. Lamb never said anything if she was late, just an arched eyebrow and withering stare. She still had no idea how much he knew - or didn't know - about her. She'd certainly not told him anything. She hadn't told any of them, six months of polite-ish conversation and pointed silence. Grabbing the girl's hand, Ella dashed out onto the pedestrian crossing outside the school. An approaching car slammed on its brakes and sounded the horn. Ella spun around to face the driver.

“It's a fucking crossing, you twat!” She yelled. The driver glared at her. The driver she recognised glared at her, and then quickly realised that they knew her. “Fucking hell, Cartwright, you trying to kill us?” She raised her middle finger and continued across the road and into the school gates. She waited at reception for the breakfast club staff and said her goodbyes. As she walked back towards the road, she saw his car parked up across from the school. He beeped the horn once and gestured for her to get in. 

“Sorry, I was miles away.” He said as she got into the passenger seat. 

“My own fault. I shouldn't have rushed us out.” She muttered. “We were running late.” He didn't say anything. He merged with the traffic and drove in silence to Slough House. “I didn't mean to call you a twat,” she said as he went to open his door once he'd parked up. 

“Yeah you did. You gave me the finger after you'd recognised me.”

“Yeah I did,” she replied sheepishly. “Can you umm… can you not tell anyone?”

“About giving me the finger?”

“About her.” 

“Sure.” He shrugged. “Does she… does she have a name? Am I allowed to know?”

“Thanks for the lift.” She ignored the question and slammed the car door, trudging up the death stairs of Slough House. 

“Oh, on time I see? Just about.” Lamb sneered. He perched on the edge of Ho's desk. 

“Just about is still on time,” she told him on her way past. 

“Fucking hell, a Cartwright on time as well. You pair are spoiling me today, am I dying?” He jeered as River shoved the heavy door open. 

“God I hope so.” River muttered, dragging himself up the stairs behind Ella. By the time he'd stopped off to see Louisa, Ella had made a cup of tea for herself only, and pulled on noise cancelling headphones. “Make my own then, shall I?” He dropped into his wobbly, missing-a-wheel office chair and got stuck into the files Catherine had left on his desk. An hour later, Ella looked up from her files to fingers clicking in her face. She frowned and pulled off the headphones. 

“Yes?”

“You haven't said anything for like, an hour.”

“I'm working?”

“Well, yeah but -”

“Did you want something?”

“Can I ask a question?” She didn't reply so he went ahead. “What's her name? How old is she?”

“That's two questions.” He waited, expectantly. “She's eight.” Ella sighed. 

“And?”

“You'll take the piss out of her name so I'm not telling you.”

“You really think I'm in a position to take the piss out of someone's name?” She pursed her lips to hide the small smile. 

“Her name is Clover.” She braced for laughter, or a derogatory sneer which didn't come. 

“It's nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah, cute. Very hippy, I don’t envy teenage Clover. Did you choose it?”

“I did. I thought… I hoped she'd bring me luck.”

“Is that why you're here? Bad luck?” She shook her head slightly and put the headphones back on. End of conversation. “Right. Good chat, at least twenty more words than usual so that's progress.” Her head had dipped again, back to the files. 

“Are you talking to yourself?” Shirley asked from the doorway. 

“No, I'm talking to… her,” he trailed off miserably when it was clear Ella wasn't listening at all. 

“Twat. Lamb wants you.”

“Two twats in one day. I am a lucky boy,” he sighed, leaving Ella alone. 

*

As much as Ella appreciated Clover's preference for the sex workers over the drug addicts in the small block of flats, it made it somewhat trickier to explain why she wasn't allowed to pop and show them her freshly painted nails - which they always loved to see - or why she couldn't hang out at their flat for any longer than it took to say hello in the corridor.

“Why do they always have visitors?” She grumbled, admiring the purple glitter polish Ella had let her have on for the weekend. 

“Because that's their job lovey, their visitors pay to come and… play games together.”

“Like monopoly?”

“Something like that.” Ella mumbled, head halfway in the oven which wouldn't light. She idly wondered how long the gas would take to kill her, then she remembered she hadn't paid the bill. “Shit.”

“What's up?”

“McDonald's for tea. Get your shoes on.” Ella sat back on the kitchen floor, stained with god knows what, and always sticky no matter what miracle cleaning products she brought. It had to get better than this. Surely it had to get better than this. She gritted her teeth, breathing in short huffs to try and keep the tears at bay. She'd felt a pang of terror after giving away Clover's name to Cartwright. For six months she'd been so careful, not daring to speak about her to anyone just in case, just in case, it somehow reached other ears. She had no way of knowing who Cartwright was in with. He appeared above board, but didn't they all? In sleep deprived delirium, she'd even researched how to change Clover's name via deed poll. She hadn't slept properly for nearly a week, hadn't paid the gas bill, but she had a fiver in her pocket and a handful of change - enough for a kids meal and maybe something for herself if she was lucky. She leaned into the door and wiggled the key, and led Clover out, passed the congregation of kids on the stairs and straight into the girl's pimp.

“Alright, El? Still got a job for you if you want it?”

“No thank you Pav, payday on Monday. I'm sure I'll get by til then.”

“A loan then? You don't even have to pay me back in cash,” Pawel Wójcik leered at Ella, a rolled cigarette caught between his teeth. 

“Nope.”

“They love a milf ya know? Could get you forty quid a go?” Forty quid sounded like a lottery win but Ella stood fast. She held Clover's hand tightly.

“Bye, Pav.” She kept it polite, always kept it polite. He wasn't a man she wanted to upset or demean, she didn't have to work for him, he still had the ability to make her life miserable. She hadn't realised how much of a sliding scale ‘miserable’ was. She'd been miserable before but at least they'd been warm and well fed. She hadn't had pimps offering her work or addicts asking for cash. Bills were paid, and Clover had her own room. It wasn't going to be for long, she soothed. She was fighting hand over fist to get back the security deposit from the flat before. The letting company were trying to lay the blame for the mould on her and were holding onto the deposit to pay for the flat to be cleaned. Another call on Monday to get them to pay up and once they did she'd be back on her feet again. Assuming she made it to Monday. They huddled in bed together, even with the lack of sleep Ella finally felt peace. Her baby in her arms, too old really to be sleeping in her mother’s bed but when there was only one bed the options were limited. Ella thought it funny how Clo proclaimed to be a big girl who wanted her own room back, her own bed back, but who suddenly became so small again when it came to bedtime. Her stomach rumbled, the small burger she’d managed to scrape together the change for wasn’t really enough. She hoped the girls down the hall would be up in the morning, they usually had plenty of bread for toast. Pawel wouldn’t allow them to go hungry, it was bad for business when the sounds of hunger got in the way of the blow jobs. 

“Fuck me, you look like shit.” Sofia told her the next morning through a cloud of cigarette smoke.

“Can we borrow some bread til tomorrow?”

“Sofia, look at my nails!”

“Oh Clo, they look beautiful! Why don’t you ladies come in for a cuppa.”

“You don’t have any visitors?”

“Nah, we’re free til lunchtime. Don't expect to see Lulu though, she's sleeping off a big night.” Clo raced through the flat to the plush pink velvet sofa and flicked on the TV. Sofia put a gentle hand on Ella’s arm. “Rough week?”

“Awful. I need to call that letting agent again tomorrow, if I had that money back we’d have a safety net. I wouldn’t be hunting for fucking change to take to McDonalds.”

“Can you even pay cash there anymore?” Sofia put a huge mug of tea down on the table. Ella cleared her throat, nodding over at the draining board which was laden with dildos. “Sorry, washing up. I’ll hide these.”

“Please don’t make me explain to an eight year old what a dildo is.” Ella grimaced. With the dildos away, a plate piled high with buttered toast made its way to the table. Ella ate until she felt sick.

“Better?”

“Thank you. I’m sorry we had to come to you.”

“Don’t be. I’d rather look after you two than a fifty year old on viagra,” she shuddered. “Heart attack waiting to happen - and my first aid at work is not up to date.”

“You haven’t heard anything?”

“If he’s out, everyone’s keeping it quiet. I’ll tell you if I hear otherwise.” As Ella left, Sofia pushed a twenty pound note into her hand. 

“I can't take -”

“You can, you will.”

“I'll pay you back.”

“You won't. I've been there babe, I promise it'll be worth it.”

*

“Cole, with me.” Lamb ordered as lunchtime drew near on Monday. Ella's face fell, she'd planned a Subway payday treat before her wages were swallowed by bills and school clubs. She glanced over at River who shrugged and then followed Lamb outside, down the stairs and round the corner into the Chinese restaurant. His usual order was on the table already. “Whatever the girl wants.” He told the staff.

“Oh, no I'm fine.”

“You ain't paying, I know you’re broke.” Ella blushed. “Saw you nicking biscuits from Ho's desk for breakfast last week.” 

“Chow mein please.” She mumbled, eyes tracing the red gingham tablecloth.

“Get her some other bits as well, will ya? Put it on my tab. Now, what I'm trying to work out is why you're so broke. It's not the old fizzy lifting powder, you're not as twitchy as Dander. Longridge is the resident gambler -”

“Just had a few big bills this month.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why are you asking me? You could just find out from the Park. Or Ho.”

“I'm asking you,” he said sternly. After a few sloppy bites of noodles, he softened. “Look, you don't seem as brain dead as the rest of the idiots upstairs. You've done everything I've asked for six months, and stuff I haven't asked for, you haven't complained, you've had your head down and got it done. Some people far more stupid than me might actually think you were enjoying it.”

“Believe it or not, I am.”

“But why?” She pushed the chow mein around her plate. 

“I was married. I am married, actually. He's a big deal in organised crime, moves things around, makes things disappear. Money, drugs, people, gold, you name it. The Park were watching the gang, he made me doctor some images and change some tracking details to throw them off. Taverner found out it was me.”

“Did they get him?”

“Only on a lesser charge. A few of the lads went down for him on the big stuff.”

“He’s a bully then. Must be if he got his underlings to go down for him?” Ella swallowed thickly. 

“Yeah. He doesn't like… disobedience.” 

“Where is he now?”

“Serving a year, but he might be out by now.”

“And Taverner sent you to me. Why didn't she have you charged?”

“My dad is a copper. Between them they made it go away.”

“Bet daddy dearest was happy about that.”

“I wouldn't know, I haven't seen him for years.”

“Disowned and yet he still saved you from the clink, eh?”

“Something like that.”

“What a pickle you're in. A fallen woman, pushed from a life of luxury into squalor. You should write a book. Make sure there's lots of pictures though, otherwise Cartwright won't be able to read it.” He laughed loudly at his own joke and followed it up with a belch. “C'mon eat up. Will he come after you?” 

“I've been staying low, I know a few people who are listening out for me,” Ella thought of Sofia and Lulu, teasing any snippets of information from clients they knew of who had links to him. Lamb nodded, seemingly happy enough with her response. 

“We'll see, shall we? And the money?”

“I ran away with nothing. I've had to get deposits and advance rent together, it's just been a bit hard that's all.”

“Let's call this your six month probationary review, eh? Congratulations, you've passed and it comes with a payrise effective right now.” He pulled a battered wallet from his pocket and handed her a wad of notes.

“No, that's not right -”

“You're on less than the others, even Dander and she's only about twelve. Someone fucked up on payroll. Accept it and say thank you, Lamb.”

“Thank you, Lamb.”

“You're welcome, now this ain't a fucking charity so that's your lot. Sort your shit out and don't bring it to my door.” Ella hesitated, feeling like she should acknowledge Clover somehow. 

“Just so you know, if everything did go to shit -”

“Oh fuck off, Standish can keep your fucking cat if the ex offs you.”

“I have a daughter.” Lamb stared. 

“What do you want? A medal?” His cutlery clattered onto the empty plate. “Alright. Say no more.”

“Thank you.” 

“Don't get all fucking weepy, you're better than that. Pull yourself together and get back to work.” Ella nodded and got up from the table, leaving Lamb alone with the leftovers and his thoughts. 

*

Feeling  buoyed by her conversation with Lamb, Ella took advantage of Cartwright going to get a coffee and called the letting agent. She was halfway through giving them an earful when he returned. She knew he was eavesdropping, the page he was reading hadn't turned despite only having a handful of text on it. Unless Lamb had been right and he couldn't read. 

“Look, you owe me that money, that flat was not fit to be lived in. I have photos from the day I moved in, I have my hospital records which show I had three successive chest infections caused by black mould and I have a solicitor who specialises in getting deposits back from fraudulent landlords. I will put those pictures on every single platform I can and tell everyone that you're putting children at risk.” She kept her voice low but it dripped with anger. The monotonous voice on the end of the phone barely registered her threats. Ella balled her hand into a fist and bit down on it to keep from shouting. She didn't notice River get up from his desk until he was leaning over hers to pluck the phone from her ear. 

“Pay her the fucking money back or I'll be down your office in an hour with the police.” Ella stared, River listened to the response. “I don't give a shit how long it's supposed to take, it's taken long enough.” There was silence again while he waited, tapping his long fingers on her desk. She watched his hand, not daring to look up at him. “Thank you.” He handed her the phone. “Check your account,” he left the call connected while Ella opened her banking app. Her jaw dropped, confirming the payment had been received. He took the phone back again, “That's come through. See how easy it was? Don't let it happen again.” When he passed her the phone again, she flinched. “Sorry, I shouldn't have interfered.”

“It's fine. Thank you.”

“You should go and get the cash out, hang on to it.” Ella frowned. Her new cash is king world was still taking some adjustment. She'd been so used to waving a platinum credit card, her phone, her watch, at a pin machine. She was amazed at how quickly she'd become frugal. The watch and her latest model phone - traded in for a basic handset - had been sold to buy a bed.

“Yeah, you're probably right.” She sighed heavily, an odd feeling settling in her chest that she couldn't quite place. Relief. For the first time in months she felt relieved. 

 

She didn't abandon her vigilance entirely, but between telling Lamb and Cartwright - a duo she never envisaged being remotely trustworthy - the bare minimum, she relaxed enough to be able to sleep at night. She ensured that her private life remained completely private. No one but Lamb knew of her ex, and no one else other than Lamb and Cartwright knew about Clover, and she intended to keep it that way. But she found herself drawn to swapping book recommendations with Catherine, and even the constant arguments between Marcus and Shirley occasionally raised a smile. And then of course, there was Lamb. 

“Turnock’s fucking teacakes?”

“They were out of jaffa cakes.”

“And you see me eatin’ marshmallow do ya?”

“Don’t turn your nose up. What’s the suitable alternative?”

“I dunno Cole, use your brain. Knew I shouldn't have told you you had half an extra brain cell than the others.”

“Hobnobs. Shall I get you some hobnobs?”

“Fucking hobnobs,” Lamb grumbled, pouring a scotch from the fresh bottle he pulled out from the bag. “Least you got the scotch.”

“As if I'd leave you hanging there.” Ella put her hand on the box of teacakes, intent on taking them back downstairs to have one with a cup of tea.

“Leave the teacakes.” He eyed her though the bottom of the glass.

“Thought so.”

“Jaffa cakes tomorrow or you’re out of here. Got it?”

“Jaffa cakes tomorrow.” She agreed. He ripped open the box.

“Oi here y’are.” She caught the airborne red and silver wrapped teacake he threw at her and beamed.

“Cheers, Lamb.”

“Off you fuck, work to do.” Ella slipped through his office door and gave Catherine a wave on her way down the stairs. She managed to find two reasonably clean mugs and made tea, popping one on the desk next to hers and one on her own desk. Headphones on, she unwrapped the chocolate covered marshmallow and took a bite.

“Bit early isn’t it?” 

“Cartwright, there is no early when chocolate is involved.” She dragged off the headset and let it hang around her neck.

“Did you get me one?” 

“Nope.” 

“So that’s how it is?”

“I made you tea.” She popped the last bite into her mouth and nodded at his desk. Next to the mug of tea was a packet of hobnobs. He smiled, small, but a smile nonetheless.

“Thanks, Cole. Still sucking up to Lamb?”

“It’s not sucking up, he actually likes me. You’ll never know what that feels like.” She put her hand to her heart and pouted. “Sucks to be you.”

“See all you've done there is lure yourself into a false sense of security,” he opened the packet and snapped a biscuit in half, dunking it in the tea, “he doesn’t like anyone.” Catherine made her way through the maze of offices with a pile of files. 

“Morning you two. Thank you for the book, Ella, very enjoyable. These are tax returns from the early 90s relating to the Havilland job.”

“Love a dodgy tax return,” Ella gratefully received her half. “I'll bring you the next in the series if you like?”

“Lovely, I've passed the first one onto Louisa.”

“That's great, I told her she'd love it.” Ella smiled. River frowned. 

“Since when is anyone actually nice to each other around here?” He muttered holding the second half of his biscuit in the tea for a fraction too long. It broke off with a solemn plop into the liquid. “Bollocks.” Since Lamb had taken a chance, Ella thought to herself. Since she'd allowed herself to feel the tiniest modicum of joy that she'd managed to escape from hell and had survived. It was far better than the self-flagellation she'd gone for originally, there might be a mountain to climb but she had to celebrate the achievement of making it to base camp. That evening, come 5pm, there was a mass exodus from Slough House and after six shit months and one less shit, almost verging on normal month, Ella felt able to actually smile at her colleagues as they departed. She walked down the slippery stairs with River, into the evening rain. 

“See you Monday,” she said, opening her umbrella. He was looking past her at the bus stop. “Oi, dickhead, see you Monday?”

“Yeah, Monday.” His brow furrowed as he looked not quite at her, his attention still on the bus stop.

“Cartwright?”

“Do you need a lift to the school? It's pissing down.”

“No thanks, I'll live. You're going to the pub with Louisa anyway.”

“You should come next time.” He said, finally looking directly at her. 

“We'll see. I should go.” 

“Have a good one.”

“You too.” He watched her leave, walking in the opposite direction of the bus stop where the figure he'd been watching had vanished. 

Chapter 2

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 14: Devil's Ploy

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

You snort and blink rapidly to clear your nose of the fetid sulphuric odour burning the membranes of your nostrils, throat and eyes. In the cramped, dimly lit sewers, where the air doesn’t stir, the stench of it lingers and never seems to dissipate.

When your vision finally becomes unimpaired by burning tears, the cambion and her fire-red hair, horns bedazzled with chains of gold, is leering at you with a conniving expression that makes your stomach sink. You’ve seen this expression on her plenty of times when she was scheming and plotting.

“Gods above,” you hiss with a rasp to your voice. “What do you want, Mizora? I thought I was good and done with your kind.”

“And here I thought we had all become such good friends,” she titters, feigning cordiality terribly. “You always did have so much… spunk. I’m happy death still hasn’t taken your lovely little spark.”

“You can ask Raphael all about my spark,” you smirk. Vivid blue lightning crackles and buzzes over your fingertips. “Oh, wait. You can’t because I killed him for seeing me as no more than a little mouse, a pawn, and I will do the same with you if you think you can play games with me.”

“Oh-yes,” Mizora giggles, not one iota ruffled by your threats. “All nine Hells were positively astir with the news of his demise. He always was such a pompous and over-confident twat, not unlike your master, I suppose."

Master. Ugh.

“I would be lying if I said it was nice to see you again, Mizora. If you will excuse me, I have my prey to hunt, and you’ve made me lose its trail.”

You can’t hear or smell Elowyn anymore. She will be deep into the ruin by now, or worse yet, in the Crimson Palace itself, but you still don’t understand what use she would have of that place. There is nothing left there but closed cells full of rotting gore that can never be opened again since you made Astarion break Cazador’s quarterstaff - Woe. Insofar as you’re aware, that was the only key to controlling everything.

“A great pity you’re in such a rush, pet,” Mizora snickers. Gods, you hate being called “pet.” You almost growl, but you’re too preoccupied with the rising feeling of foreboding swishing around in your stomach. You know that laugh and dread what’s about to come out of her mouth next. “I was going to offer to assist your Vampire Ascendant with his little… problem, but I suppose if you don’t want help… well, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. Ta-ta!”

“Wait!” You snap, whirling around. You’re going to regret this. “Wait… What do you know of Astarion’s ailment?”

“I thought that might get your attention,” she smirks smugly. “Let’s make ourselves more comfortable, shall we? You may be accustomed to living in such filth, but I am decidedly not.”

Mizora snaps her fingers, fire bursts to life all around you, and then you’re in a grand sitting room with glitzy settees, lounges and chairs. Rugs made of creatures you’ve never seen before litter the floor. Some appear reptile-like with scaly hides, others plush furs, others with feathers and more with something you can only begin to describe as some form of cartilaginous exoskeleton. They look at you with glassy, dead eyes ashine in their long-dead sockets.

It’s stiflingly hot, and you peer out of double doors leading to the terrace and take in the landscape. In the distance, black, jagged mountains pierce the horizon with peaks wreathed in an eerie crimson mist. Brimstone and fire dance in a perpetual inferno bordering a river made entirely of lava or possibly blood. It’s hard to tell from this height. The air is acrid and clouded with volcanic ash, and the sky flickers reds and oranges as fireballs race through clouds of darkest black.

“Avernus,” Mizora gushes. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“I think I preferred the sewers,” you croak, wiping the sweat from your brow and going back inside. It does little to provide any comfort or liberation from the sweltering climate.

“Of course, sewer spawn,” she scoffs indignantly and drops unceremoniously onto a lounge. “It was your home for a little while. Wasn’t it? Until the Cleric and Wizard found you down there.”

“Have you been watching me this entire time?” You cross your arms and quirk a brow at her. “Do you have nothing better to do than derive pleasure from pain and suffering?”

“Oh, darling.” Her head falls back, and she laughs, “Of course! Who wouldn’t want to watch this little tragedy play out? It has been quite amusing thus far.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the show,” you bow sarcastically with a frown. “If you’re getting such a kick out of it, why are you meddling in my nightmare?”

“Sit. Won’t you?” She gestures toward the chaise. Mizora won’t tell you anything until you do as she asks. This is all part of her little game, after all. So, you sit with a roll of your eyes. “I would have been happy to watch until the vampire killed you, but alas, all good things must come to an end. Zariel and the other archdevils have other plans.”

Fuck. If another archdevil, or several, from the sounds of it, are getting involved, this is unlikely to be good. What got you here was another deal with an archdevil, but if there’s even a chance that something Mizora might tell you can give you somewhere to start, well, you can humour her.

“Which are?”

“Oh,” Mizora shrugs. “I don’t know, little lamb. I am merely a messenger.”

“Okay,” you comb your fingers through your sweat-dampened hair. She’s lying. You can see the hinting glint in her eyes. She knows more than she’s letting on. “Well, what is it you can tell me?”

The toothy, menacing smile that sidles across Mizora’s face should send you running. She sneers, “Tell me. What do you know of Mephistopheles?”

You shrug, “I know he is an archdevil, a rather powerful one. His domain is Cania. The Rite of Profane Ascension was a contract with him. Beyond that, I do not spend much time researching devils.”

“So, nothing then,” she pouts. “Well, allow me to enlighten you.”

Fire leaps to life in a circle, and Mizora’s eyes gleam with the keenness of a wild cat as you jump and get ready to defend yourself. Everything goes black except for the inferno burning around you.

As you watch the writhing blaze, depictions form in the leaping flames, moving against them. A towering devil with bright red skin, curling ram horns and massive bat-like wings jutting out from his back. He has an unnervingly charming smile, but it’s offset by cold, milk-white eyes that stare through you, making you shudder.

The figure paces around, muttering to himself and the empty grand halls around him. His eyes bounce around with feral neuroticism. He twitches, growls, hisses and waves his hand as if shooing away an annoying insect while snarling.

Abruptly, the fiery figure lets out a blood-curdling shriek and starts clawing at his skin, tearing gashes into himself until his skin is hanging in gruesome, dripping flaps from his arms and chest. Fire explodes in his palms, and he flings around bolts of Hellfire, instantly turning everything around him to ash. He pivots quickly and appears to be looking straight at you. He roars so loud you’re sure your eardrums have burst. He charges toward you with the ferocity of a rabid animal and a fireball barrels toward you.

Everything goes black, and you fall onto the floor by Mizora, who is snickering.

“What in the Hells was that?” You snap, getting up and getting in her face. You grab that fur collar in your hands and shake her, “What the fuck did I just witness?”

“Mephistopheles, for all his cunning and brilliance, is a deeply troubled individual. As you saw, he is neurotic and suspicious and often flies into fits of explosive and violent rage. Does that remind you of anyone?”

“… Astarion,” you breathe and stumble back. “Oh Gods…”

“Yes, pet.” Mizora nods with a fiendish cackle. “I can see you putting it all together. The Vampire Ascendant was an experiment of sorts. As you can imagine, these tendencies are not becoming of an archdevil. In an effort to rid himself of his neurotic temper, he needed a willing vessel to imbue with a portion of his nature. What better way to lure a willing participant than to offer unfathomable power?”

You collapse onto the chaise, wracking your fingers through your hair, “The Vampire Ascendant was nothing more than a way for Mephistopheles to offload his psychosis?”

Gods above. It makes so much sense. Astarion’s blind fits of rage. The voices in his head. The alternate version of him that sometimes takes control. You never got to see the whole contract. Did Raphael know about this and neglect to say it?

“But.” You add, looking at Mizora, “Astarion is himself some of the time.”

“Ah-yes,” Mizora snickers, glancing at her nails. “The vessel was never supposed to have an intact soul. It’s much easier to work with an empty cask than one that is already full, so to speak. A spawn was never supposed to usurp the ritual. I would say an oversight on Mephistopheles’ part, but truly, who could have imagined a spawn would get infected with a mind flayer tadpole that broke his master’s chains? Then, he just so happened to come upon a fine hero to help him. It’s all rather ludicrous sounding. Astarion’s soul is fractured but not completely eradicated. Well, not yet at least.”

“What do you mean not yet?”

“Think of it like this,” Mizora speaks to you slowly, as if you might not be smart enough to understand the metaphor slipping past her lips. “The entity is like an infection. It contaminates him, tainting everything from his thoughts, the platelets in his blood, to the marrow in his very bones, faster than his body can heal itself.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You’re starting to get suspicious. Where is the catch? The line she will hook you with?

“Can’t I just want to help out an old friend?” She pouts.

You glower at her and cross your arms, “No.”

“You were always so clever.” Mizora suddenly becomes serious, “Mephistopheles is a threat. Now that he is no longer burdened by his demons, he’s set his aspirations quite high. Too high for the liking of many of the archdevils. We would like to see him reunited with himself. It’s a very fine little deal. You get what you want to rid Astarion of the entity that’s eating him from the inside out, and we get to cage Mephistopheles back in the prison of his mind. A warning, pet. It will not be an easy road.”

“My life has never been easy. Why would it start now?” You sigh, “Tell me what needs to be done, and I will do it.”

“Such a good little spawn. Aren’t you? He’s killed you, tortured you, starved you, beat you, emotionally ruined you, and stolen your name, and you’re still willing to risk yourself to save him?” Mizora giggles, “I would say it was a true love story in the making were it not so fucking tragic.”

“What do you mean stolen my name?” You growl, cocking your head at her, “I have a name!”

“Oh,” she snickers, “Then tell me, pet. What’s your name?”

“My name…” You trail off, wracking your brain for the word. It’s right there, sitting precariously on the tip of your tongue. “My name… It’s… It’s…”

Mizora’s laughter is a haunting melody, a sinister cackle in a chilling symphony. That sound could freeze the blood of the bravest soul and make the earth tremble, “You can’t remember it. Can you?”

You replay old conversations in your head. You can see Shadowheart’s lips moving, but then there’s a sudden silence where all you hear is white noise even though she’s still talking. It’s the same with conversations with Gale, just white noise in the place where your name should have been.

Astarion stole your name from you… When did that happen, and why can’t you remember? What else has he stolen from you?

“What’s my name,” you swallow the thick odium that’s erected itself into your throat. You shriek, rage sweeping through you in a gust of hatred, “What my name, Mizora! Say it!”

Mizora smiles haughtily and speaks. You focus with every iota of your capacity, watching her lips move, but it is as you feared. Your ears hear nothing but the breathy whisper of silence, and your eyes seem unable to read the phonetics on her lips.

You’re his darling. His sweet girl. His precious treasure. His consort. His nameless spawn.

And yet, you’re still prepared to sacrifice your life.

Yes, a very good little spawn, indeed.

“It doesn’t matter,” you mutter, clenching your chest as a tendril of sadness wraps around your heart and chokes it. “What do I have to do?”

“Before we can do anything about Astarion. We must first unbind him from his contract.” Mizora says, eyes narrowing, fixed on you. “I don’t care how you do it, but you must get Astarion’s contract from Mephistopheles. Steal it. Bargain for it. The choice is yours, but you must do it fast. There’s no way to know how much time before Astarion is lost forever.”

Mizora deposits you back into the sewers, and her voice bounces off the stony passageways, “Tick-tock, tick-tock, pet.”

You consider continuing to try to track Elowyn, but you’re reeling with information and cannot fathom how you would even begin to concentrate on her. She must be dealt with. That is certain, but it must wait until your mind isn’t fraught and unsettled.

How are you supposed to get Astarion’s contract from Mephistopheles? Bargaining for it should be your last resort, but how do you get to Cania, the eighth layer of the Nine Hells, survive it long enough to sneak into Mephistar and somehow sneak through an archdevil citadel? It seems like an impossible task.

Should you tell Astarion? He would usually be the first person you ran to for help with a heist, but he’s unlikely to let you go, even if it is the only means to save him from inevitably losing himself entirely. You can’t risk Astarion forcing you to stay, but you might not be able to risk going to the Hells without him. The Vampire Ascendant will likely be an invaluable asset if you meet resistance. But if he loses himself, you might not survive Astarion’s wrath long enough to get where you’re going. Whether that thing inside him is a separate entity or a version of himself that’s been infected and corrupted, you doubt it will take kindly to you trying to remove it.

Do you approach Shadowheart? You would be putting her in great peril, but she might be able to help with research. This is your mistake to fix, and you don’t relish putting your friend’s lives on the line. Karlach and Wyll are in the Hells. They may be able to help ascertain a way to get to Cania, but you’ll need to figure out how to contact them.

And Good Gods, your name…

The silent corridors echo with the foreboding sound of your heavy footsteps like the ominous rumble of an approaching storm as you work through the maze of gangways and channels. Tears stroll in rivulets down your snowy cheeks, liquid poetry to express all the emotions you can’t.

Dejection. Grief. Fear. Defeat. Loss.

Lost in the spiralling thoughts, you forget to look to the sky as you drag your weary body home. The only thing you want right now is to curl up in the strong arms of Astarion and let him hold your broken pieces and fears together because you’re not sure if you can do it by yourself.

The sun cracks the skyline, the first rays of the soft light of an autumn day embracing the streets, but the sun no longer embraces you. It blinds and broils you. Your skin glows, flakes, and melts. Deep, molten silver-blue channels crack in your arms, legs and face. The pain is so intense you can’t even remember to scream as you stand, waiting for your skin to slough off your bones and cover the street with ash.

You don’t remember reaching out to the bond with Astarion, but his voice fills your head, “Gods above. What in the nine Hells are you doing!? ” Astarion bellows. Panic infects his usual halcyon timbre, “Find shelter! I’m coming!”

The pain is all-consuming. You can’t move, can’t think, can’t speak as your nerves are melted away. Your skin dissolves like water evaporating under the sun’s heat. Every inch of your skin is being flayed in a single moment that lasts forever.

You will die nameless and alone.

“Fuck! Find shelter. Now!”

Astarion’s compulsion overrides everything else, and your body moves stiffly to obey the command even as it smokes and your skin is loosened from your frame, liquifying and dripping off your arms and legs, turning to ash in midair and being carried away by the morning breeze.

Find shelter. Find shelter. Find shelter.

Your instructions resound in your head even louder than the pain that falls to a buzz in the background. You can’t even blink as your fingers curl around the boards of a long-abandoned shack. Gods. Are those your fingers? Is that bone you see? You wrench the board off the window. The pads of your fingers squelch and ooze. When you throw the boards down, your skin sticks to them, peeling away in rangy, fibril bands like gum. Thank the Gods, you lack the capacity to mull it over much as your body throws itself inside without your consent.

With the order completed, there is a brief moment of pure, blissful euphoria - a reward for being so very obedient. The compulsion pales, the vines recede, and you’re pitched back into the residual agony that has yet to abate.

Now that the sun is no longer skinning you alive, the pain has lessened, and you remember how to scream. An inhumane noise rends your throat somewhere between a shriek and a wail. Your head lolls to the side, and your eyes fall to your arms.

You immediately wish they hadn’t.

Your skin is not the smooth pearlescent you’re used to seeing now that the colour it once held has faded to death’s grip. It’s powdery and matte. You’re sure you’re looking at the bones of your forearms in the chasmal rifts.

You hear white noise in your head, murmuring over the bond. It feels like Astarion is trying to contact you, but you hear no words. To get your thoughts off the pain still being recited by your nerves, you shift your focus to the emotions in your head, trying to sift through them. Astarion’s heartbeat in your chest is excruciating. It hammers with the intensity of a blacksmith striking an anvil. He’s petrified, bordering on hysterical.

You reach out in your head, “Astarion?”

“Little love!” He howls. You must remember to request he not attempt to dissolve your brain matter. “Why haven’t you been answering me?”

“Where are you?” 

“Close, my treasure.” 

You don’t know how much time elapses as you bounce between consciousness and dissociation while focusing on not moving. The less you move, the better for you, but your limbs and muscles seem to jerk and twitch without your consent, and every time, it sends another agonizing swell of suffering to break over you. Teardrops flutter on your lashes, but you can’t move to wipe them away.

Your ears pick up the thudding tempo of Astarion’s beating heart before he bursts through the door, scattering the planks and showering splinters in his haste. Astarion drops to his knees beside you. He visibly shudders as his eyes land on you, slumped against a wall.

“Hells,” he breathes, chest heaving from exertion. You can feel his horror in your head, but you need not. It’s evident in his shaky and rapid speech, “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here. You’re safe. Look at me, darling.”

Why, after everything he has done to you, is his proximity so remarkably comforting? You let your eyes roam over him and truly appreciate the beauty before you. His scarlet eyes, dazzling like vivid, perfectly polished jewels ashine behind… tears? No. That doesn’t seem right. Your vision is blurred from your eyes being boiled in their sockets. You must be imagining the tears, but his eyes are beautiful nonetheless. His sculpted, full lips, which once held the promise of an eternity of silk kisses, are downturned at the corners. You would give anything to run your fingers along them right now, feel them on your skin, taste them on your tongue. He is breathtaking, quite literally.

“Sweetheart.” Astarion reaches to you. His fingers tremble as they hover below your jaw. He knows it will hurt if he touches you, “Can you hear me?”

You answer in his head because moving the muscles in your face to make you capable of speech will hurt, “Yes. I hear you.”

“I can compel you to not feel the pain, to sleep, but I need your permission.” His eyes bore into you. His voice is a favourite dream you long to slip into, “Please.”

It’s dangerous permission to give. You’ve told him you will leave if he compels you again, but he just did, didn’t he? He compelled you to find shelter when you could not do it yourself. He compelled you from afar. He does not need to be near you to force commands upon you. He can wrap your brain and body around his finger like twine from anywhere, anytime, on a whim. But Gods, you will do anything to make this pain end, to drift away from this fucking nightmare.

“Do it.”

Immediately, you feel your control funnelling away, like sand through an hourglass.

“You feel no pain,” he purrs, and the pain vanishes as your nerve endings deactivate. It’s a blissful respite, and you sigh. “Thank you for trusting me. Sleep now.”

Your brain shuts off. Darkness claims you, and Hells below, you welcome it.

“Wake.”

The directive floats through your comatose mind like a beam of light cuts through the pitch-blackness of nullity. Your faculties burst to life, waking one by one, unfurling like a blooming flower. The first thing you feel is hunger so painful that your body jerks to collapse in on itself as your limbs jolt and tremor insuppressibly. Excruciating cramps make your toes curl and your hands ball into fists. Your mind is raving, mad with hunger. You consider biting your tongue if only for the sweet succour of that crimson elixir.

You cannot think of anything other than the sensation of your insides gnawing on themselves, the paralyzing contracting of every ligament and tendon in your body, the desiccation that’s withered your tongue, and the grave need to feed - on anything and anyone.

Another spasm causes you to lurch and claw at your skin like you could dig yourself out of this ailing body. Warm hands clasp your wrists, and all your mind can think is warm means alive, and alive means blood. Your eyes snap open, but your addled brain simply cannot process the visual input, and you don’t think twice before fire erupts from your palms.

“Shit!”

You hear it, but you do not process it. As soon as the grip on you rescinds, you lunge at this figure before you whose beating heart is thrumming the provocative siren song of life and food. Colliding with it is like being throttled into a brick wall, but you waste no time fumbling and climbing with bared fangs. You’re so close to that beautifully pulsing vein, and it’s the only thing your eyes can focus on.

Stomach bubbling with hunger, you go to bite, jaws snapping and slobbering like a feral beast. As soon as your fangs hover within striking distance, your body arrests, and you’re instantaneously immobilized.

Strong arms wrap around you, lift, and sink you to the floor. A hand cradles your cheek, and the branching blue-purple veins make you swoon. You think about biting them only to have your body freeze up on you further. It guides your eyes to vivid crimson irises that spark recognition and reason back into your dazed lucidity.

“Astarion…”

“Stop thinking about biting me,” he chuckles and shifts you to the side. “You’ll be able to move again.”

“What?” You would quirk a brow at him, but you’re too focused on trying to push your intentions of biting him away. They do not concede to your urges, and you find your eyes wander without your permission to any vein that might be in striking distance. Astarion always gently walks your errant gaze back to his. “You haven’t compelled me?”

“Ah. Apologies. I do forget how new you are to this.” Astarion reaches for something on the dresser to his right, “No. This is not a compulsion. As my…” he trails off.

“Spawn.” You state with a palpable despondency threaded between the fog of hunger that looms over you.

“I do hate that word,” he shakes his head with discontentment as if he does not want to face the reality of what he has turned you into. “You are physically unable to bite me without my permission. Your body simply will not allow you to do it. Which is why you currently cannot move.”

Astarion holds a goblet out to you, and your stomach is set on fire by the iron sharpness that wafts from the syrupy, bright red nectar. It breaks you away from your absorption of sinking your fangs into Astarion’s flesh, and you snatch it out of his hands and drink with mindless gluttony.

The blood is fresh, hot and rich as the liquid rushes into your mouth. It waterfalls through your body, unknotting the snarls in your muscles, dissolving away the relentless twist of your stomach, and replacing the bloodlust hysteria in your mind with a sultry buzzing.

Astarion’s already holding another goblet, and you throw the empty one to the side and close your eyes as you guzzle. The blood is buttery and decadent. It’s hundreds, nay, thousands of exquisite dishes in a single swallow. It’s like a summertime dawn on your tongue. The wet warmth of it sinks between your thighs, settling with a molten throbbing in your core, and you moan at the pure bliss.

Astarion slips the goblet from your fingers once you’ve finished, and you look at him with half-lidded eyes. You rack your brain for memories of the few times you’ve tasted the blood of thinking creatures. You bit a few in the battles between when he turned you and the Netherbrain, but you cannot remember any of them ever tasting that deliciously arousing.

“That wasn’t animal blood,” you state, almost slurring. You feel drunk, or maybe Astarion is just intoxicating to look at while he mesmerizes you with those red eyes and perfect lips that foretoken pleasure. “Who did you just feed me?”

“No, it was decidedly not animal blood,” he grins as you adjust on his lap and straddle him. You’re not entirely sure what you’re doing in your desirous daze, and you trace the perfect bow of his lips as he speaks. “It was my blood.”

“You are delectable,” you giggle as your fingers help themselves and start fiddling with the buttons on his chemise. As your muddled mind starts to make sense of what he just said, you’re tripped up. You stare at him with a slack jaw and round eyes.

“The look on your face is priceless, darling,” he giggles and glances down at your roving hands as they push open his shirt and trace the defined muscles. Astarion’s fingers trace down your neck, sending shivers down your spine and making you squirm on his lap in wanton desperation for even the most minuscule friction to sate the ache, “I told you that you would taste me, and I you. It will not make you a True Vampire, though, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Right now, you could not care less about being a True Vampire. There is very little on your mind except how his skin feels on your fingers and how extraordinary he would feel stretching you.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent deeply, placing slow kisses up the column. His fingers curl into the silk nightdress he must have changed you into at some point as he groans.

“Whatever are you doing?” He mutters near your ear, pressing his cheek to yours.

“I want you,” you sigh as you curl your fingers into his hair.

“You just attacked me,” he swallows.

“Then, let me apologize,” you grind against his hardening length in a way that makes you both gasp.

“You’ve been asleep for a week,” he mumbles, even as his arms wrap around you, tugging you close. “You have no idea how close you were to dying. Truly dying.”

You should probably be concerned with how long he kept you asleep since your time is limited, but you don’t care. You can’t care. You’ve never been quite so high on blood, on him. He is the light, darkness and blood that runs through your veins, and good Gods, you will give him everything.

“So, wake me up,” you purr as you push his shirt over his shoulders and run the flat of your tongue up his neck, relishing the salt of his skin. “Touch me like only you can. Love me like only you do. Help me feel alive, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls you back, cradling your face with this thumb pressed gently under your chin, drawing your eyes to his, and you stare at him through narrow, seductively hooded eyes like a love-sick pup. He traces your lips with his thumb, and you catch it in your mouth and suck.

“Hells,” he rasps darkly with a sharp inhalation.

You feel the offering call of the bond, and you don’t hesitate to throw it open. That beautifully overwhelming frisson shatters through you as Astarion’s lips catch yours in an eager, bordering on frantic kiss. He snakes his hand into your hair, holding you firmly against his vehement embrace. His tongue darts into your mouth, and a guttural groan thunders in his chest. His kiss is unusually clumsy, lacking the artistry and mastery he typically possesses, and your teeth click together with your greed for each other. You roll your hips, sinking your clit against his length, and your head falls back as white-hot sparks of want rupture behind your eyelids.

As far as you’re concerned, he is the definition of desire. His lips, his hands, and his taste are the only things that can bring you back to life from this deathless death, and you’re sure that you could never get close enough to him. Even with every curve of your body pressed into every contour of his, it still wouldn’t be enough. Nothing is sweeter than the serene sin of the kisses his lips press against your throat.

You peel off your nightdress, and your fingers tug at the opening of his breeches, graceless in your wild hunger to be filled, to be taken, to be his. Astarion quirks his hips up and pulls them down his hips, freeing his cock. The head glistens with evidence of his arousal. With no warning or hesitation, you sink his full length into you. The heavenly stretch makes you cry out and dig your fingers into his chest.

“Fuck,” he breathes, heavy, ragged and uneven. The pads of his fingers find your swollen flesh, sweeping and circling, and you get lost in the divine stimulation.

You set a slow, teasing pace, rising and sinking back down onto him as you delight in feeling the ridges of his head with every languid pump. Astarion pants as he lets out breathy moans. He brings a hand to your hip, trying to urge you to move quicker.

“Good Gods,” he whimpers, his gaze glossed with desire. “Have mercy.”

You are starving for pleasure, famished, and you will take it how you want it. With a warning growl, you grasp his wrist and pin it above his head to the wall. Astarion grins at your dominance and doesn’t fight it. He murmurs something unintelligible as you plunge onto his cock, and stares reverentially through thick lashes, drinking you in as you forfeit all rational thought.

Time runs away with you. You could have been riding him for hours or seconds, but eventually, your savouring pace turns reckless and erratic. Astarion bucks his hips in time to meet yours as the sound of smacking flesh, wanton cries and panting is all that fills your ears and head.

Astarion’s fingers tremble and quake against your sensitive bud, his skin sheens with sweat and his breath hitches. When you finally unpin his wrist, he clutches your hips and guides you to continue the tempo that is driving you perilously close to the edge.

His breath starts to come faster, panting hot and crude, fanning across your sweat-veiled skin. Scarlet eyes devour you as you chase your release in his lap. He penetrates you - Harder. Deeper. Animalistic.

“Oh shit—” His eyes snap open wide, almost in a look of blissful confusion. In your rapture, you barely notice the way his lips move, but you hear nothing but white noise. “I’m going to— Gods. I think I’m going to—“

A shuddering gasp escapes his lips, his body suddenly tensing beneath you. The look of ecstasy that washes over his face is enough to hurl you over the precipice, and you cry out with him. Between your walls clutching and spasming, you feel his cock twitching and pulsing, flooding you with his seed. His arms wrap around you, and you cling to him with a grip that would surely bruise. He crushes you against him as you’re both overwhelmed with pleasure so pure you think maybe it would have killed you were you not already dead.

As the intoxication of your climax fades, you sag into him, pressing your forehead against his neck. You close your eyes, breathing in the fragrance of his sweat, and focus on the rise and fall of his chest. It would be nice to stay in this darkness, snug and safe and home in his embrace, with the bond open so you can remain one pale star against the dusk of reality.

And then you remember the white noise from the moving lips of Shadowheart, Gale, Mizora, and him … You pull back abruptly, breaking out of Astarion’s arms and staring at him, tears teeming in your eyes. Astarion’s confusion is evident on his face and through the connection.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. You can feel him trying to figure it out in his head. It’s such an odd sensation, almost like your emotions are being poked and prodded. “What did I do?”

“Say my name,” you whimper, focusing on his lips.

“What?” His eyes bounce around as his brows pull down.

“My name,” you repeat with a quivering lip. “Say it.”

Astarion’s lips move, and… nothing. All you can hear is the buzzing, fizzing hiss of white noise coming from his mouth.

“Again.”

“I don’t understand —“ He yet again opens and closes his mouth with only a droning hum. Your fingers clamber against his lips, pushing his mouth open as if you might be able to grasp the word as it leaves his tongue. “Whatever is the matter?”

He doesn’t even know, you realize. He has no idea that he’s stolen your name just as he stole your life. You find some comfort in knowing that it wasn’t this version of him that did it, at least. You stare off dejected as everything rushes back to you like a slap across the cheek.

Mizora. The Hells. Mephistopheles. The Contract. The ticking clock. Your name.

“My love,” Astarion’s fingers curl into your hair, and he ushers your eyes to his. “Did I harm you? Please. Tell me what’s troubling you."

“I don’t remember my name,” the tears spill out of your eyes. “You stole it from me.” 

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, I hope you enjoy this, darlings!

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

So... does she tell him what Mizora revealed?

[pepsiiwho]

Okay some MR thoughts

Spoilers ahead abt Louis

I really really love the very subtle foreshadowing that Louis is an Elda through the use of his horns. Idk if u guys noticed, but all the clemar are remarks small horns (considering the size of their heads and bodies) and while it’s super cute, it also seems consistent throughout the race. Comparatively, Louis has these two massive ram like horns, big enough to wind around his face and be seen through his endless mountain of hair— they don’t look normal.

It’s silent too no one says anything, and as a viewer you just think “ah bc his military status is so high and he’s so strong is a design quirk to make him seem more formidable” but of course the reveal drops (WHICH U GUESSED HOURD BEFORE HAND MIND YOU!!!) and it’s like “oh shit his horns are bigger because he’s a badass, they’re bigger because he’s over compensating and doesn’t know the specifics of the race he’s trying to emulate” and I just love that.

I wish the voice actor was American doing a British accent, that way we can further push these clues bc otherwise the only Americans in game are Elda tribe members …. Of which he is.

Ugh I fear I really love Louis. And it sucks bc I know his fans will horrendously annoying… but not me, I’m gods angel.

[sawyer-is-eepy]

i cannot BELIEVE that i haven't posted the fanart of a certain nomai i did a while back. UGH!! A TRAGEDY!!

anyways here's our favorite nightshade, i love her so much

(spoilers for base game outer wilds under cut)

my favorite lady. I love her so much. this is my hc design for solanum without her mask. I gave her the same horns we see her with on the vinyl, which i think is the closest we'll ever get to seeing her with no mask ::] (err wish there was a way to do a three eyed emoticon, so I could reference the nomai as well instead of just the hearthians ::[ ) anyways isn't very canon because I gave her a different nose than the nomai have, at least its different than the one on the vinyl but shhhh anyways. I gave her heterochromia because people draw gabbro with heterochromia and why should they get all the fun? also sometimes I give agate(my hearthian oc) heterochromia and I wanted them to be matching

[hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend]

Themis!

This uhhhh....this got away from me just a little.....Anyway hope you find the grump and sunshine entertaining!

no warnings. spoilers for endwalker and the pandaemonium raids. word count: 3.1k ao3

“Hm, perhaps he has been delayed longer than anticipated.” Themis mutters, looking up at the sky, “I don’t suppose you were not joking this one time, sending a falling star in case of your absence.” An all together silly notion when he thought about the phrase a bit more and the context in which Azem said such a remark. His “star” tended to be a friend sent in his place, but he can’t imagine that Azem–no, Deimos, Themis was told he could use his real name especially with this matter–would leave Pandaemonium to anyone else, not while he was so close to the subject matter. Themis sighs, shaking his head, “I guess I shall get started without him.” He turns towards the transporter that will take him into the depths of Pandaemonium, two steps and he looks up hearing the sound of cloth snapping upon the wind. 

In an instant the world goes dark.

He groans in harmony with two others as he comes to and takes stock of the damage. Nothing feels broken, his head will most likely ache until he can sleep it off, but still he is unable to move with weight on his legs still. He blinks color over taking the features of who used him as a cushion, one a color he knows well, while the other is unfamiliar but he can see the traces of the Speaker, Curious. He blinks once more the colors gone and the smile he had to greet his companion dims as the owner of the mistaken soul looks nothing like Deimos. The creature before him is covered with scales, horns where ears would be, a tail that lazily moves, and still possesses the body and many traits of man. Their hair short and dark blue, brandished with a sword, dressed in a bright pink tabard and brown boots, and eyes that when they open finally are the same exact teal color of one of Deimos’ eyes, A familiar then?. He about doubts himself when he recalls some of the other creatures Deimos found adorable—one of which resides in Pandaemonium still if he recalls—a human-like creature with lizard-like attributes really isn’t that far from the beaten path for him.

“Ugh, I think I broke a tail bone,” they mutter, holding their head.

“No you didn’t,” the other one snaps, “because you decided to use me to break your fall.” The second, a woman, rises, blue eyes with a differing iris pattern to his own narrowed at the familiar, smoothing her long jet black hair and black and white long sleeved dress before slapping away the familiar’s tail with a huff. “Now will you get off of me already!”

The familiar stands, dusting away at their clothes, “And here I thought a hit on your head would make you nicer.” Their green blue eyes finally take notice of Themis still sitting on the ground beneath the woman, with wide eyes and mouth agape taking them in, “You can’t even complain! You used this poor guy as a cushion for your fall.” The woman rolls her eyes, quickly standing and making sure everything is in place, the familiar shaking their head, “And you’re not even going to apologize.”

“Thank you for breaking our fall,” the woman says, eyes studying him in much the same manner he was earlier.

“That’s not-. Never mind.” The familiar turns back to him, holding a hand out, “Forgive her, uhm…”

He takes their hand, thumb running over the hard scales that look like they should scratch him like bark, but feel smooth like brick on the Convocation building. Their smile begins to strain, giving a slight tug on their hand once he’s up enough to stand on his own. Themis shakes his head, letting her hand go, “Apologies, I for a moment thought you were someone else.” He puts a hand to his chest, giving a slight bow, “I am Themis.”

“I see.” The familiar gives a slow nod, “Well, nice to meet you. My name is Siberite, like the stone.”

“And your friend?”

The woman looks him up and down, turning her nose up at him, “Hardly your business but seeing as she would tell you eventually, it’s Liana,” she responds, Siberite giving her a curious look before shrugging.

“Are you a familiar also?”

“Yep,” Siberite chimes in cutting off the woman, “She’s Hythlodaeus’ new familiar!” Themis finds he would have been witness to a murder if looks could kill. He looks Liana over once more, finding no trace of the humble man Siberite claims her to be connected to, only the faint traces of Lahabrea. Did Deimos go to him after all? No, that’s not it, with how open he’s finding Siberite to be there would be no need to lie about that. He also can’t help the feeling that she too is lying about her name, a very curious one. Her gaze flicks to him once more with a cross of her arms and still the lizard-like familiar smiles as if she wasn’t just threatened by her companion, “But I think I know where your earlier confusion came from. Azem made sure their signature was prominent on my aether, in case I ever needed assistance in my travels.”

Themis chuckles, “How very like him to think of such a thing,” Liana rolls her eyes, “and fortunate for me.”

The woman slides her gaze to him, “Fortunate how?”

“I was told by my companion a falling star would appear before me, should he be unable to join me, I did not think it would be so literal.” Liana snorts, “Nor did I expect there to be two of you.”

“You were expecting us?” Siberite asks, crossing her arms when he nods, giving a click of her tongue.

“Ugh, well we weren’t expecting you and we have no time to help you in whatever it is you need assistance with.”

“Gods will you calm down, Sst-Liana. You didn’t even have to come along.” Themis watches as the woman raises her shoulders, and tightens her crossed arms, eyes glancing around them, looking for something, Or maybe someone?. “Was it Azem that told you to expect us? Is he the companion you’re referring to?”

Unusual that Deimos’ own familiar would refer to him by his title rather than name, Themis thinks as he confirms his familiar’s question. “And given that you are his familiar then I believe our purpose here is the same. You are here to investigate Pandaemonium, yes?” The glare “Hythlodaeus’” familiar gives him confirms as much, Just what are you to be so untrustworthy of the world?. “Then before we continue might I inquire how it was that you came to collide with my skull?”

“No.”

“Really? Must you?” Siberite says exasperated, “Themis is just trying to help.”

“No it is alright,” he says, looking at Liana, “I am well aware that we all have secrets we must keep. I shall pry no further.”

Siberite turns to her companion, “Can I at least show him the crystal?”

“Why?”

“Because if he’s investigating too then he may have different insights on what it is and what its deal is.” 

“He has one minute,” Liana says, pulling out a memory crystal and slapping it down into his outstretched hand.

He looks down at the unmarked sky blue crystal, a faint voice speaking of danger within Pandaemonium. “Fascinating. While I cannot say much to the details, there are memories stirring within it, that speak of something gravely amiss within Pandaemonium.”

“So exactly what we know already.”

He smiles, handing it back to her, “Tell me, do you know aught about Pandaemonium? What it is and what it is for?”

“Uhhhh, no.” Siberite answers, “But I’m guessing you do?”

He smiles and walks towards the edge of the island, partially turning away from them. “It is a facility that extends beneath Elpis,” he lets only his gaze slide to look at Liana, “and overseen by the Words of Lahabrea.” Liana’s eyes narrow, shoulders raising like a threatened feline, So that’s what you fear. What makes you uneasy being here, he ponders before continuing. “It houses those creations that are highly valuable to research, but are highly dangerous to the star.”

“So it’s expected to be under heavy surveillance and lock and key,” Siberite says, “You think something got out that shouldn’t have been let out?”

“It is possible,” he says, facing them once more, “but several days ago there was an unnatural shift in the flow of its aether detected. Soon thereafter, all communications from Pandaemonium ceased.”

“Oh.” The familiar’s tail falls as she hugs herself, looking down at her feet. “So what’s your role in all this?”

“I am here as a representative of an organization that works directly with the Convocation, and have been tasked with investigating this incident.”

“Aka he’s not here to collect the dead.” Liana says sharply to her companion. He frowns with a furrowing brow, the woman waving away his reaction, “Are you satisfied with the pleasantries, Siberite?” She answers with a small shrug, “Finally. Then let’s get to it.” She begins to walk away, Siberite following almost obediently behind, “You too Themis! Let’s go!”

He takes a deep breath before jogging to catch up. “You wish to investigate this matter with me?”

“I have no choice.” Siberite smiles, laughing softly to herself, You would have asked either way and still told me to come along even if she said no like he would have. “We need access inside and given you are here on a more official basis it saves us from having to break in.”

“I see. You are correct though, it would be no trouble to grant you access as well.” The woman mumbles something he can’t quite catch, “We simply need to get permission from one of the Words of Lahabrea.”

Liana stops suddenly, turning on her heel, “Excuse me? We need to ask for permission still?”

“Well, yes.” Her teeth grind, “It is mostly because I did not anticipate for our group to have a third, and they need to be informed of Azem’s familiar entering the facility.” Themis turns, giving Siberite a smile, “While I have no doubt you’d have access already, it would not do for the warders to mistake you for a resident of Pandaemonium.”

“Yeah, I would much rather not end up in a cage.” 

“Lead the way then, Themis.” 

Ignoring the venom she drips from his name, the man takes them to a Word of Lahabrea, who’s eyes go wide a moment upon seeing Siberite. When she’s standing in front of him, surprise turns to understanding, “An interesting aetheric signature with that one, but not surprising in the least.” He turns to Themis, “Was the transporter not granting you access?”

He shakes his head, gesturing to Liana, “I need you to add a record of her aether as she is joining me in my investigation.”

“Along with Azem’s familiar?”

“This one I happened to stumble upon on my way here. She’s been sent to check on his creation and pick up some research.”

The Word shakes his head with a sigh, “You think he would have stopped taking an interest in his old work by now, and not feel the need to visit his contribution to the pet summoning community. But I shall add your companion’s aether to the records.”

“Excellent. You have my thanks.”

The Word leaves for just a moment, returning with a nod. “Her aether has been recorded. Might I ask why her aether is a little on the thin side?”

“She’s a familiar, created by the Chief of the Bureau of Architecture.” Themis refrains from smiling when he catches her fists clench.

“I see. They’re being very extensive in whatever it is you’re doing it would seem. So if you discover aught that merits a report, please do so with the utmost haste. Master Lahabrea shall guide us on the proper course of action from there.”

Themis frowns, matching the narrowed gaze of Liana, “So I take it that you have detected nothing amiss as of late?”

“The warders have reported nothing that would cause alarm. Minor fluctuations in aether have been observed, but surely Master Lahabrea would have acted if they were anything to worry about.”

“So Lahabrea is kept well informed of the goings on here then,” Liana says with a hum, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly, mumbling, “Interesting.”

The Word looks over at her, “I hope I am not overstepping my boundaries by asking but….you seem to be quite familiar with Master Lahabrea. Do you know him?”

Liana looks away, Siberite frowning when she looks over at her. The familiar quickly perks up, “She’s met him briefly, but I’ve told her of the many stories I have of him.”

“You mean the ones Azem has of the man.” The Word corrects.

She gives the man a glare, popping her hip with crossed arms, and tail flicking back and forth, “No, that isn’t what I meant at all. I have met the man multiple times, thank you very much.” Themis looks between the two of them wide eyed, his tongue burning with more questions that he cannot ask, lest he give up more of his identity to them. “For someone that seems to have once worked with Azem you know very little about what kind of person he is. He does not wish for me to be at his side at all times, because that would make me near useless to him. He is someone that values a variety of thought processes, mine included.”

The Word flinches at her tone, “My apologies. Master Lahabrea is not known for being generous with his time– that one would have ‘stories’ of his company almost beggars belief.”

Siberite huffs, looking away from the Word defiantly, Themis clearing his throat, “And with that I believe it is time for us to be on our way to get started with our duties.” He gives a nod to the Word, “I thank you for your time and, uh, patience.”

“Finally,” Liana breathes out, making her way back towards the transporter that will bring them to Pandaemonium. Siberite rushes to be in pace with her, the two having a hushed conversation, Themis picking up on small pieces of it as he follows at a slower and steadier pace. From what he’s able to put together, Deimos’ familiar is questioning just why her companion would lie about her name and why she seemed much too uncomfortable being here, when it was she that insisted on joining her. To little surprise Liana responds in short answers that offer no insight, other than she has very strong feelings towards Lahabrea that balance on a wire, and her hostility towards this familiar was once waned but is growing once again. One name stands out within their conversation, Emet-Selch. 

While Themis finds it no surprise that Siberite should know the man on a more personal level, it makes him curious as to how Liana knows him, and why her feelings on the man show more than just disdain for his fractious personality. If he was comparing her feelings on Emet-Selch and Lahabrea he would hazard a guess that while she’s angrier towards the latter the roots of such strong emotion are the same. 

Eventually Siberite throws her hands up and slows to match his pace, “Is it really such a shock to have met him? Or well someone like me to have? Or was it just that guy being condescending?” She sighs, shaking her head to begin musing once more, “I mean it makes sense why he would speak that way to me, people here don’t really see familiars as worth something I’ve found. Granted he’s also not the first person to speak to me like that, which-. I don’t know, it irks me that just because I’m so small or look so delicate or something else entirely people love to assume that I have nothing of value to offer. Or that I’m not able to understand something complex, but I do try to. I just can’t always help my mind wandering when it makes connections to other things.” She looks up at him when he stays silent, “Oh, um, sorry. Ignore all that.” She laughs, running a hand through her hair, “I’ve been told I need to work on how much I talk. Just can’t help it, you feel pretty easy to talk to, you know that?”

He smiles recalling when he witnessed the occasional conversation between Deimos and Emet-Selch where the older man would have to physically quiet him so the two could pick out just what it was that Deimos was needing answers to. Observations that proved helpful as Themis became more settled in his role and would hold longer conversations with the man, and a reason he was picked for this assignment. “You would not be the first person to say such a thing.” She beams, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts once again, “As for your question, it is true what he said that Lahabrea is not known to be generous with his time. Even I had to contain my surprise to hear you both had met the man in the flesh. Makes you both more interesting by the moment.”

“And yet you don’t ask too many questions. Some,” her eyes look quickly at her companion, “would say that you’re naive for just taking us at our word.”

“I have many questions, but I shall refrain from asking them. Secrets will make this journey all the more intriguing, wouldn’t you agree?”

She smirks, giving him a nudge, “And here I thought you’d get more boring learning more about who you are. Puzzles and intrigue it is then, Themis!”

With that declaration the three of them make it to the transporter. Siberite is the first to descend into the facility, Liana gesturing for him to follow next. “Before we go in,” he starts, Liana rolling her eyes, “tell me, what is your connection to this place. I know your companion’s connection, her creator once worked under Lahabrea. Yours is unknown and I must make sure it will not interfere with our investigation.”

The woman gives a saccharine smile as she walks past him into the teleporter, pausing just long enough to whisper, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Elidibus.” She leaves into the depths of Pandaemonium before he can muster any response. While there’s some worry as to just how she knows his true identity, he doesn’t believe she would let such knowledge free given how long she kept it to herself. No, he pushed something, threatened her, and she simply responded in kind. He smiles to himself, stepping into the transporter, Who knew that confronting the dread beast that is Pandaemonium would entail such intrigue. What other sights will you show us….

[cameronspecial]

Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 11)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Reference to a Panic Attack and Spoilers for The Cruel Prince.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.0K

Summary: Halloween, the best holiday of the year is meant to be spent with the people you love.

A/N: Definitely not me adding in the KitKat part because I just went on a road trip in the US and my Canadian self was disappointed with the KitKat.

Masterlist

Friday night, Y/N finally has her first book club meeting. Rafe sits beside her with one hand on her thigh and the other holding his book. “I like how confident Jude’s character is. She is so badass,” Rafe inputs into the conversation. When the other members of the club found out Rafe is a part of it, it is safe to say they were shocked at the revelation and didn’t expect him to actually read the book. But ever since Rafe and Y/N started reading together every night, he has actually gotten through a few books. If they weren’t sleeping in bed together, they’d FaceTime each other and just bathe in the knowledge that the other was a shout away. For the book for the club, they would often take turns reading to each other. “Yass, she is an absolute queen. Like becoming a spy was so awesome,” Kate adds. The conversation continues until the hour is up and everyone has gone home. Y/N is getting herself a snack when she feels Rafe drop his chin onto her shoulder. He gives her a gentle kiss, “I think we should dress as Jude and Cardan for Halloween. You can put your hair up in horns and wear a dress. I can put on one of those flowy shirts that are like a pirate shirt. You’d love it.”

“That’s a great idea, we can go into town now to see what we can get. Ooh, but we should look at fan art first,” Y/N rattles, completely abandoning her snack to go check her phone. Rafe smiles as he sees the excitement on her face. She shows him multiple different pictures and he gives her his thoughts about it. Before he knows it, they are going into town to see what they could find. 

———

Halloween is Y/N’s favourite holiday. The idea of being able to pretend to be whoever one wants is appealing to her. This Halloween is especially exciting for her because Rafe actually wants to do a couples costume with her. Rafe is throwing a Halloween bash in honour of the holiday and she knows he is going all out just for her. He had her help him pick out a multitude of decorations, drinks and candies. She is trying to follow the video to make the horns with her hair for the costume, but she quickly grows frustrated with the task. “Ugh,” she lets out very loudly. This summons Rafe into the bathroom from the adjoining bedroom, “What’s wrong, my rose?” “This video is literally the hardest thing I have ever done,” she complains to her boyfriend. Rafe gives her a wicked smile and approaches her, “Here let me try.” 

He begins to work on her hair and she watches, shocked that he is able to do it without even having to watch the video. He can see her questioning gaze through the mirror, “I’ve been practicing how to do it with my sisters’ help. It took a lot of hair-pulling and arguing, but we were eventually able to nail it.” She feels a rush of heat spread across her neck at the effort Rafe is going through to make their first Halloween together perfect. She never asked him to do any of this, but he went out of his way to make the environment comfortable for her. “Thank you,” she whispers once he is done with her hair, turning to give a kiss on his exposed collarbone in the pirate shirt. He has yet to put on the crown or feather cape they had custom-made based on the fanart they saw. “You’re welcome. Could you help me put on a little eyeliner, please? It seems like something Cardan would do,” Rafe replies, reaching into her makeup bag to bring out the eyeliner. 

She gives a small nod of her head and pats the counter for him to sit on top of. He does as instructed and they both laugh as they realize it made him too tall. Y/N motions over to the toilet for him to sit on. Once he is seated, she brings his head into her hand and starts to apply the eyeliner. He starts to squirm in her hand, making it harder for her to do what she needs to. “Cameron, stop moving,” she chastises, holding onto his head harder. He shakes his head a little, “I can’t. It tickles. 

“Well if you don’t, then it will be all smudged.” 

“Ughh, okay.”

“Rafe Jacob Cameron! Stay still. I’ll give you a kiss if you do.”

“Okay, fine.”

She finishes doing his eyeliner and goes to apply her own lipstick. Rafe is quick to press a kiss onto her lips, smudging her lipstick and imprinting some of it onto his lips. She giggles at the messy lipstick on her boyfriend's lips. She moves from between his legs and goes to get a wet cloth to wipe his lips. “Now, let me get you your crown,” she says, walking over to where it sits in his dress and placing it on his head. Rafe smiles up at her and relishes in the kiss she places on his forehead, “This kinda reminds me of the coronation scene from the book.” 

“Yeah, it kinda does feel like that with you being shorter than me right now. We should’ve gotten Mason to be Oak. Then we can recreate the whole scene.”

“Maybe, but I like this being just an us thing to do.”

“True. I just worry he feels left out sometimes.”

“It’s okay, we can include him when we do family costumes with our kids.”

“When we have kids? You seem to have our future figured out for us, don’t you?”

“I absolutely do. I was thinking you’d probably want to move out to England after you finish at Oxford, which I would definitely follow you to once I finish school. We would have four kids because I know you like the even number and you like the idea of kids always having a playmate. Of course, Sparky would move with us. And the house would definitely need a bay window for you.”

“That’s quite the plan you have. You’d really move to England for me?”

“I’d move to the end of the world for you. You are my forever.”

“You are my forever too.”

But a small part of Y/N can’t help but feel guilty about the idea of making Rafe move. Ever since she overheard Ward talking about the distance, she can’t stop worrying about their future. She knows he always planned to take over his dad’s company after he finished school and she didn’t want to be the reason why he didn’t realize that dream. She knows it’s what he wants to do to make his dad proud. She doesn’t even know what Rafe would do in England with her. It would also mean that they would have four years of being apart before they could be together again and she isn’t sure how she could handle that. Not wanting to think any deeper about it, she snaps out of her spiral and leads him downstairs to get ready for the party. 

————

Lacey and Mason arrive earlier to help set up for the party; the former with booze in hand and the latter with candy. Lacey is dressed as a chef, true to her future career choice and Mason as a handyman. “So what are you guys supposed to be? Pirate prince with pointy ears and a hot badass knife girl,” Lacey asks with a questioning brow, setting the box of beer cans on the counter. Y/N shakes her head at her best friend’s teasing, “Nooo, I’m Jude Duarte and Cameron is Cardan Greenbriar from The Cruel Prince. Silly.” “Ahh, so it’s a couples costume. Cute,” Mason adds, organizing the candy he brought.

————

The party is in full swing now. Music blaring, people screaming, bodies moving and Y/N is getting nervous. She is lost in a sea of people, getting pushed from every side. At a certain point, she couldn’t keep up with the crowd and tripped onto the ground. She curls into a ball to protect her head and heart. She begins to cry and feels as though her chest is tightening. Lacey had seen what had happened to her best friend and immediately shoves her way through the crowd to help. “Come on, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Lacey picks her up and brings her to Rafe’s room. Lacey sits Y/N on the bed, “Tell me five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell and one you can taste.” “The… The…” Y/N is so frazzled she can’t concentrate on the relaxing technique Lacey suggests. 

Rafe finds the girls in his room after searching everywhere for his rose. He starts piecing the pieces together as to what happened when he sees the pair and rushes to her side. “I’m sorry we got separated, I’m here now. Let’s do some butterfly taps and take some deep breaths in and out for me, my rose,” he advises with his hands rubbing the sides of her hips. He helps her place her hands in a cross on her chest. She copies Rafe’s breathing and begins to tap her collarbones, alternating between the left and right. The other two immediately notice her breathing start to slow down and her shoulders aren’t as tensed. He places a kiss on her forehead now that her breathing is finally steady, “There we go. You’ve got this.” He continues to whisper hushed encouragement to her.

Lacey can’t help but feel jealous at the sight in front of her. She used to be able to help Y/N calm down from a panic attack. Definitely not as fast though. However, she can’t help but feel happy that her best friend has found someone who understands how she works so much. She takes this as her opportunity to slip out of the room and go back to check on the partiers for Rafe, making a mental note to check on Y/N later.

 Oppositely, Rafe is feeling more confident in himself. He thought back to what his father said about knowing sooner rather than later that he couldn’t reassure her. This proves Ward is wrong. Rafe was able to assess the situation without being told what happened and help Y/N through it. He remembered what Y/N said about her panic attacks and jumped into action. He figures the party and getting lost in the crowd are probably the reason for her panic attack. “Wanna ditch the party and see if the pharmacy is already serving discounted chocolate and candies? We can head to the beach and eat it there while watching the waves,” he offers as soon as her breathing has steadied and she moves her hands into his. 

“But what about your party? You and Mason have to stop shutting down your parties before even ten just for me. You’ll both start having a bad reputation.”

“I couldn’t care less about what people think as long as the people I love are safe and healthy. But I was thinking of just letting Mason watch over everything.” 

“I would love to go get candy, but maybe we can go later. I think it would be more fun to go trick or treating. I mean we are in costume.”

Rafe chuckles at her childishness, “Really?! I mean, I don’t object to the idea, but you really think people will give us candy?” 

“Yeah! Not to brag, but everyone on this island loves me.” 

“That’s very true. Come on, let’s go get some clean pillowcases.”

Rafe secures two pillowcases for the pair and sends a quick text to Mason to keep an eye on things for him. Mason replies back quickly saying that he will and asks if Y/N wanted him to come check on her. Rafe answers by telling him she has now calmed down and wishes to go trick or treating. Y/N is excited about going out, but she isn’t sure how to feel entirely about it. She definitely noticed how Rafe would shut down his parties early and forgo going to other parties ever since they started dating. The girl would insist on him going without her or offer to go for an hour or two; however, he would always resist her pleas. She doesn’t want to change his personality, even though he says it is okay. At this moment though, Y/N could not be more glad that he is seriously okay with the idea of going out to get some candy. 

————

The houses on the Kook side of the Island often give out the best candy and it often becomes a competition between the houses. Halloween is the one time a year in which the Kooks do not care if the Pogues are on their property and most Pogues would dare to approach the rich side. Kooks welcome as many people to their houses to prove they offer the best treat with the number of guests coming at their door. Y/N remembers the excitement that would pass around in elementary school as the students would brag about the candies their parents bought. She and Rafe run up the driveway of a house while holding hands giggling like schoolchildren. They arrive at their first house of the night. After going through the trick-or-treating ritual, Y/N reaches into their bag to see what they got as they walk back to the road. Her eyes shine at the red wrapper in her hands. “What is it?” Rafe questions the girl. 

“It’s a Canadian KitKat! Yes, I love these.”

“What’s so special about a Canadian KitKat? We have these in America.”

“The Canadian one isn’t as sweet and it doesn’t leave that weird aftertaste. The chocolate taste much better. I had some when we went up to Canada for my mom’s book tour last summer. Here, try some.”

She quickly opens the package, breaks off a piece of the chocolate and shoves it into his mouth. Rafe’s eyes widen in surprise and he eats the chocolate bar, “Hmm, this is good. Why don’t ours taste like this?” 

“In Canada, KitKat is owned by Nestle and here, it’s owned by Hershey’s.” 

“I see. Well, next time I go to America, I’m going to pack a suitcase full of these for you.”

She looks at him with a huge smile on her face. The pair go to a few more houses and the next house on the street is quite dark. As they approach the house, a little girl dressed as Barbie is walking beside them. Rafe gives her a small smile and a wave. They make their way to the front door to see a duo of teens standing in front of a candy bowl with a please take one sign on a table. The teenage boys laugh as they take the whole bowl of candy without leaving one, even though they saw the little girl. The boys run past the trio without a care in the world. Little Barbie looks at the candy bowl with sad eyes and before Y/N can even do anything, Rafe is handing over his candy bag to her. Her eyes light up and she yells a thank you, running back to her mother at the end of the driveway. The mother waves her hand in thanks to Rafe’s sweet gesture. 

Y/N looks at her boyfriend in awe, “That was so sweet. But now you have no candy. How about we stop by the pharmacy for discount candy and head to the beach?” Rafe nods at the offer and leads her back to where he parked his car. 

————

She is examining the box of candy in front of her when he pops up behind her, wearing Jason’s mask from Friday the 13th. She jumps, startled at his sudden appearance in the strange mask. She gives him a light hit on his bicep and a frown. “Cameron, You scared me! Don’t do that,” Y/N reprimands her partner. Rafe laughs and wraps his arms around her shoulders, “I’m sorry, my rose. I was only playing. I love you.” He kisses her cheeks in hopes to soothe her anger. She shakes her head at him. “Ugh, I guess I love you too. Come on, let’s head to the beach.” 

They head down to the beach with the bag of candy in hand and a blanket wrapped around both of their shoulders. The duo sets themselves a few feet away from the water. The sound of the waves hitting the sand is the only noise that can be heard on the beach. Y/N rests her head on his shoulder and begins to eat the candy they acquired, Rafe looks down at the girl with a grin on his face. She looks more serene than she did at the party and he loves the way she is watching the waves in wonder. 

His life plan was always to go to UNC, graduate, come back home, and work for his father. It was engraved in his mind in his very first memory of his father. It had been their plan and Rafe never questioned it because he thought it was the best path to pleasing his father. He may have known Y/N for more than one-third of his life, but the plan never changed just from knowing her since he never thought he had a chance with her and he just suppressed his feeling for her. But, now, she is his girlfriend and they have a future together. This makes him question everything he thought he wanted for his future. Now, all that mattered to him is her being in the picture and if that meant going off to England with her then he is going to make damn sure he is by her side every step of the way. 

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @terraeluce @f4ll-for-you @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

[thebigbiwolf]

Starvin' Darlin - Chapter 2

Pairing: Not quite friends to lovers Astarion x OC/F!Tav

Chapter Summary: Seeing Evelyn with Gale stirs up some unfamiliar and VERY unwelcome feelings in Astarion. And for some reason, she graces him with a midnight visit. I'm terrible with summaries but here's what's in store for you:

* A bit of possessive!Astarion if you squint

* More pining

* More biting

* Deep DEEP emotional constipation (my personal favorite)

Fic Tags: Minor spoilers for Act 1, The Bite Scene, Emotional slow burn, Angst, Teasing, Frottage (god I'm sorry), Pining, This is my first ever fic so idk how to tag things appropriately but you get the gist.

Fic Warnings: Eventual Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubcon (I cannot stress this enough), Bloodlust/Loss of control, Mentions of blood, lmk if you need anything else tagged.

Read on AO3: Here

Word Count: 5k

A/N: School and life have been kicking my ass but I finally got around to finishing this chapter and I couldn't wait to post it! I'm having so much fun writing in Astarion's POV. Huge thank you to my bestie @imaginarydromedary for being the best beta ever and for your endless patience with me.

The morning that follows that fateful night in Evelyn’s tent goes rather well, all things considered.

She approaches Astarion first. A pleasant surprise, considering they could hardly look at each other after he ravaged her the night before. 

He looks over the novel he had been skimming, Shanties for the Bitch Queen . Admittedly, not one of his favorites, but reading material was scarce these days. He closes it with a soft thud and rises to meet her, all pleasant smiles and perfectly coiffed hair. 

“Good morning.” he says, a curious tilt to his head. 

She looks a bit more pale than usual with faded, grim circles forming underneath her eyes. Her bun is a bit unruly, some strands falling into her face and parted by the wine-dark bone of her horns. She either didn’t sleep well or is still reeling from the anemia. 

The bruise he administered had spread and darkened, plainly visible even under the black ink of her tattoos. It seems she found no use in hiding it, then. Very well. It’s not like they keep extra scarves laying about the camp, anyway.

“How do you feel?” he asks, gently. He doesn’t mean to provoke her, but his curiosity is getting the better of him, and the slightest hint of shame is beginning to burrow its way into his conscience. Ugh . He thinks he prefers the tadpole.

“A bit woozy.” She responds, “I woke up this morning with the intention of asking you how one usually fares after being drained, but then I remembered,” she stops herself when she realizes what she’s about to say: I was your first. Unspoken, but lingering between them . It makes him want to laugh; A woman with a reputation such as hers acting so bashful .

“It’ll pass,” he reassures, “Just be glad I’m not a true vampire. A bite from one of them and you might wake up as a vampire spawn, like my good self. All of a vampire’s hunger, but few of their powers.”

“Speaking of hunger,” Evelyn says, realizing she’s famished. She turns from him and begins making her way towards the campfire. Finding that only charred logs and old cinders remain, she runs the black tip of her boot through the ashes with the intention of stoking the fire back to life, dust clouding, then dispersing before her.

He follows closely behind, observing. She seems well, all things considered. A bit out of sorts, but nothing a bit of rest couldn’t cure.

“You know, I had considered bringing you an apple,” Astarion starts, hovering by the pit, “Leaving it by your bedside before you rose for the day - ever the gentleman, but,” he clears his throat. 

That newly recognizable twinge of something is curling its way back into his chest, causing him to squint in discomfort. 

In truth, he didn’t know how she would react to him encroaching on her space. Not after that dreadful attempt on her life. He is a monster, after all. That, and she had already been so insufferably forgiving. Such kindness is likely to reach its end sooner rather than later.

“I - erm, didn’t want to disturb your rest.” is what he finally settles on. Polit , he thinks, Best not overdo it.

“That would have been nice of you.” She says it quietly, more to herself than to him.

“Oh, darling, you have no idea how nice I can be.” The flirtation sneaks its way out of him on an impulse. He’s about to apologize, something he seems to be doing a bit too often for his taste, when out of the corner of his eye, he catches one of their companions making their way towards them. 

“It appears we have company.” Astarion sneers, “And here I thought I was going to have you all to myself this morning.”

To the elf’s surprise, most of them were quick to come around to the idea of a vampire spawn slinking about. Especially once they found themselves in the middle of an ambush, and Astarion very quickly made good on his promises to her. 

Newfound strength coursed through his body, her blood weaving threads of heat through his veins as if it were his own. His speed was unmatched, cutting down half a dozen goblins before they had a chance to wail.

 It was exhilarating . 

The day flew by in flashes of red. Despite the many unnecessary stops Evelyn insisted on making to help undesirables, Astarion’s emotional high managed to remain relatively intact. That was, until their group settled in for the night.

As most of the others retired to their tents, the elf prepared for his nightly ritual: sifting through his collection of tomes and selecting one to read under the stars - his favorite way to end the evening. 

It was supposed to be perfect. Uneventful. Quiet .

But, there was Gale: lost in thought and muttering to himself, or maybe to the conjured image of some woman’s head floating above his hand. Astarion may have been able to ignore that in itself, but the sound of light footsteps drew his attention. 

Evelyn was approaching the wizard. 

He scoffs. Of course Gale was showing off in hopes of procuring her attention. The man was practically putting on a damn light show in his desperation. It’s not enough that the wizard eats valuable items they could be using to pawn for coins, but does he really have to be such an unbearable distraction as well?

“Pretty,” he recognizes the word as it leaves her. The sound of their chatter was too faint for it to carry its way to his beautifully pointed ears, but he could just barely read Evelyn’s lips at this angle.

Gale startles, dropping his hand along with his focus. The woman’s visage vanishes. He looks embarrassed, shifting uncomfortably as he no doubt explains himself in some horribly mundane fashion.

Astarion returns to his book, scanning over the page, but the words refuse to settle in his mind. He stares at the ink, willing the sentences to fill his head with anything other than the nonsense unfolding in front of him, but his focus stubbornly remains on the chattering pair.

Gods, he’s talking her ears off. 

At any moment, Evelyn will dismiss the man, embarrassing the hells out of him, which will make for an excellent show. That in itself is enough reason to keep watching. But the longer this goes on, the less he’s sure. 

She seems to be enjoying their chat, nodding in agreement at Gale’s words, listening to him without so much as a hint of impatience. Gale then steps behind her, a bit too close for the likes of an average, friendly conversation. His chest almost touches the woman’s shoulder as he moves into her space, the cloth of his nightshirt just barely grazing her. 

Something within Astarion begins twisting in protest. His thumb runs over the long-forgotten page in circles. The rough texture reminds him that yes, he was supposed to be reading, or at least attempting to look disinterested, but he can't will himself to turn away.

Gale smiles softly down at her, then begins to move his arms in a way that could only be described as a poor imitation of a wounded bird. Purple light emanates in front of the two of them in response. More magic tricks. Of course. As if that would be enough to impress the woman who’s supposedly been at the receiving end of every imaginable courting attempt in Faerun. 

Astarion rolls his eyes, content to continue his chapter of The Realm According to Bumpo, before he notices Evelyn following suit, imitating the very same motions. She, however, has a grace about her, unlike the bearded beast at her side. Her movements are quick and decisive, abandoning all flattery for precision. The burst of light emanates from her palms, just as it had for the wizard.

She looks pleased. Elated, even. This is the first time he’s seen her smile since she made a fool out of him in her tent, caressing his body and reveling in its reaction, like he was some sort of toy. Though her expression looks different to him now. He can’t quite place his finger on why.

He swallows, attempting to alleviate the tightness in his throat. 

A purple aura starts radiating around them, dancing and swaying in waves, as if the two were surrounded by a flowing channel of lavender, smelling of rosewater; the sun setting over a dark ocean. Even from a distance, the sight pulls at something inside him. An unwelcome ache settles within his chest.

Evelyn turns to the man next to her, unaware that they’ve been drawn closer by the magic enveloping them. She tilts her head back to meet Gale’s gaze. The way he’s looking at her, the flecks of gold in her irises locked with his: deep, brown, and moving, makes Astarion’s skin itch.  

He finds himself wondering what color his own eyes were before his transformation. Were they so seemingly honest, so trustworthy in their melanism, before they became what they are now? Sharp, red, and tinted by bloodlust. Wouldn’t they be boring? 

“You’re staring.”

He’s pulled from his brooding by the sound of Shadowheart’s observation. He hadn’t noticed her approaching him, distracted by that sickening, sweet smell. “Or has the tadpole gifted you with the ability to telepathically commune with books?”

“I’m simply admiring our wizard’s talents.” Astarion says, dismissing her with a wave, “Making sure all those expensive boots and rings haven’t gone to waste. It would be a pity, wouldn’t it? Unnecessarily sacrificing clothes that may have suited you while you’re having to traipse about in a tin can?”

The cleric snickers, “I see. Is that why you look like a kicked pup? Or, are you upset that your master’s replaced you with a new lapdog?” 

He slams the book closed. The sound surprises Evelyn, and the magic surrounding her and Gale dissipates. 

He doesn’t dignify Shadowheart with a response, nor does he spare a second glance at the others before retreating to the quiet solace of his tent.

”That wretched little…” He grumbles to himself as soon as he closes the entrance, tossing Bumpo atop the other novels in his collection, all piled haphazardly on the small desk occupying a corner of his living space. 

This type of reaction was unusual for him. Astarion would normally be happy to engage in petty banter. The more scathing, the better, but Shadowheart had somehow weaseled her way into a tender area. It left him feeling exposed, and a bit nauseated at the idea of allowing someone so clearly beneath himself, at least in terms of wit, to get the better of him. 

Taking a deep breath, Astarion focuses on releasing the tension in his jaw. Best not to let this ruin his entire night, he reasons, before lighting  several half-melted candles littering his quarters. Their flames emanate a soft, golden glow, and the process is meditative enough to finish soothing him. 

He doesn’t have watch tonight, so he allows himself some extra comfort, removing his shirt before sinking down into the soft furs of his bedroll. Astarion closes his eyes to trance, thinking the extra rest will do him some good, but the image of Evelyn rushes back to his mind -  the way her soft lips parted in surprise, realizing her and Gale’s close proximity, and how his gaze flitted down to her mouth in return..

The wizard should be wearing a damn collar around his neck with how she commands his attention. It’s pathetic.

It couldn’t be a matter of coincidence, surely. She must know the effect she has on the man. If Gale harbors feelings for her ( yuck ), even if it were the result of close quarters, Evelyn could use it to her advantage. She had just revealed the effectiveness of similar tactics to him last night, and a powerful wizard would be a powerful ally. 

Whereas, Astarion is just… a vampire spawn. Not even a true vampire. A slave. A nobody.

He rubs his face in frustration. The Sharran did have a point. Astarion may have an insatiable appetite, happy to receive all matters of attention from whatever suitors decide to shower him with it, but what about her? What if Evelyn found him less interesting, less worthy of her time and, subsequently, her protection? 

No. His ego balks at the suggestion. 

Besides, he had felt her lust for him not 24 hours ago. It moved through him as though it was his own, and the taste of her still lingers on his tongue. He heard the hitch in her breath - felt it under his own lips, and reliving the memory still stirs a familiar hunger within him. 

Though, they still haven’t spoken about it. 

The usually quiet, insecure part of him wonders if she’d just rather forget it altogether. He could empathize with that, at least. It’s easy enough for him to imagine their last encounter may have left her feeling disgusted, used.

Guilt worms its way back into his mind, cozying up right next to his tadpole but oh, so much worse . 

He hasn’t felt like this since the beginning of his servitude. He assumed the emotion had been neglected long enough to be left entirely behind him, overshadowed by the threat of whatever new, interesting ways Cazador would think of to torture him at the mere suggestion of disobedience. But here, in the thin veil of safety he’s allowed himself to believe shrouds him, he aches. 

It’s unbecoming.

Instead of resting as he should, Astarion isn’t quite sure how much time he spends ruminating on ways to quietly rid the party of Gale, before he hears the faintest rapping at the canvas of his tent. 

At first, he believes he imagined it, and gives the noise little consideration before settling back into his trance. But then, he hears it again: quick, rapid tapping. A knock. 

It surprises him. He hurriedly moves to stand. In the faint glow of the candlelight, the shadow at his doorstep dances against the closed fabric, smaller than himself and horned. A visit from Evelyn at this hour? Strange.

He undoes the ties and opens his space to her. 

Her hair is undone, dark waves falling over her shoulders and obscuring the marks he gave her. She’s wearing the same clothes she wore to bed last night, the very same black breast band. It smells as if it's been washed, though, with no lingering scent of her blood. Her loose, matching trousers settle high on her waist, just above her navel. She looks exhausted. 

Being run ragged by the events of the day while also having to contend with a missing pint or two of blood may have had more of a negative effect than anticipated. 

Evelyn doesn’t say anything at first, but he catches her eyes glancing at his bare chest before retreating back to his own, cementing themselves there. He raises an eyebrow at her, smirking, and thinks about teasing her. The temptation threatens to get the better of him, but he refrains, not wanting this unexpected visit cut too short. “Need something?”

“I was hoping we could talk.”

Her stare is unwavering, a commitment worthy of admiration.

“Right this way.” Astarion bows slightly towards her, an arm raised behind him to gesture her inside. She steps past him, careful to not brush against his exposed skin. He closes the entrance behind them, shutting out the ambient noise and drowning them in silence. His space is large enough to accommodate himself and his essentials quite comfortably, but it's infinitely smaller with her here.

“I hope I didn’t disturb you.” there is a hoarseness to her voice. She must have woken up just before making her way over.

“No, actually. I was just catching up on some reading.” Not entirely a lie. He had been reading at several points tonight. “What is it you want to discuss? I’m assuming there’s a reason this couldn’t wait until morning, not that I mind.”

“It's about you.”

Oh. No midnight gossip, then.

"I’ve been thinking about how we’re going to continue feeding you.”

“You’ve been up all night tossing and turning because you're concerned about my eating habits?” he responds, unamused, and crosses his arms.

“I have not been tossing and -” she’s about to argue with him, he thinks, but her exasperation causes her to lose her concentration. She breaks eye contact, distracted by the toned curves of his biceps, then snaps her gaze to the floor. “Would you please put on a shirt?”

“Ha!” His laugh is humorless. “I’d like to think we’re well past the point of propriety. Besides, you're in my tent.”

Evelyn pinches the bridge of her nose. “I knew this was a mistake.”

“Come now, darling. Why are you really here?”

She sighs in frustration, as if he should already know.

“I wanted to talk about last night.”

“Ugh, I’ve already apologized. What more do you want?”

A moment passes in uncomfortable silence. He can practically hear the gears grinding in her head as she searches for the right words, and he'd give anything to reach out with his tadpole and take the unfiltered thoughts from her mind. Instead, he takes pity on her.

“Unless, you’re looking for another nibble?” 

It's a joke, a way to clear the tension from the air. Entirely unserious.

She doesn't laugh.

Instead, she looks around the room: first at his assortment of decorative pillows, then to the empty elixir bottles piled in a corner, anywhere but himself. "Well, I - I don’t know.”  She clears her throat. “I just figured after today’s performance, it may be for the best.”

Wait. What?

He stiffens, so taken aback by her suggestion that the elf almost believes he’s still mid-trance. 

“What?” 

“I may be willing to help you again, when necessary.”

She has to be joking.

“You’re joking.”

“No. I’m serious, if it would help.”

“It would.”

“Then, yes.”

They stand almost toe to toe, Astarion once again absorbing her warmth. He hadn’t noticed their height difference the first time they did this, too busy devouring the poor woman like some deranged beast, but it's notable here, on equal footing. Peering up at him, her nose aligns with his collarbones.

"Tonight, then?" she asks.

"Eager, are we?"

She shrugs with indifference, "Just in case we run into any trouble at the goblin camp tomorrow."

The very picture of practicality. What else did he expect?

"Alright, then."

"Alright."

That nagging sensation begins to tug at him again - the very same one he felt as he had stepped out of her tent last night. A weak but unshakeable tension, like a magnet, uncomfortable as it is alluring. The force of it draws his body closer to hers where she stands, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Underneath her calm exterior, Evelyn’s heart is pounding. Though her breaths are steady, controlled, he can hear it from where he stands. For a moment, those are the only sounds filling the space between them, until the tiefling speaks up.

“You’re tall, for an elf.”

An oddly-timed observation, but a true one. His brother, Petras, was always outwardly envious of him for it. Though, he's not sure why it sounds so flattering coming from her lips.

“How kind of you to notice.” 

She scans the room, searching for something, until she spots the table. Her fingers run along the dark ringlets in the wood, tracing the hardened puddles of forgotten wax, until they reach his heaping pile of books. She taps her fingertips on his leather bound copy of Bumpo . 

“May I?” 

He nods, unsure of what’s been asked of him. 

Evelyn gathers the novels in her arms before piling them carefully onto the floor in a few leveled stacks, clearing the space. ”That should be enough room for one of us to sit,” she says, evenly. 

Then, there is a heavy silence; anticipation. It hangs in the air thick as smoke, twice as suffocating. She's only taken a few steps from him, but it’s as though she’s crossed an ocean. The distance between them begins to develop its own gravitational pull, making the hairs on his arms stand on end.

“Whatever’s most comfortable, dear."

The tiefling nods, then plants herself on the table’s surface, legs hanging over the edge. Evelyn is now eye-level with him, her irises glossy; catching and reflecting what little light dances off the few remaining candles beside her.

She tilts her head at him, expectantly. Her face remains neutral - practiced, as though she feels nothing at all; as if she isn’t trying to drive him mad.

She’s back to playing her little games.

Fine.

Astarion’s posture straightens as he strides towards her, confidently closing their distance. He places his hands at her sides, not quite touching her, but still close enough to feel the heat emanating from her body, even through her clothes.  

“Now, where would you like it?” The question sounds innocent enough, but the double meaning is not lost on her. 

Her grip tightens at the table’s edge, knuckles whitening. 

His head tilts downwards, looming over her like a predator, and the scent of vanilla invades his nostrils. The sweetness settles on his palate before spreading across his tongue, coating it with a rum-like burn. He runs the flavor over the sharp edges of his teeth.

"I could do it here," he whispers, dipping his nose and running the tip of it along her nape. He quietly revels in how she prickles beneath him, her body betraying her feigned indifference.

"Or, here." One of his thumbs trace the flat of her wrist in slow, circular motions, causing the pulse beneath it to flutter.

"Or…" His other hand slides atop her knee, fingers gripping and parting her thighs just slightly…

She snaps them shut.

"Just do it, dickhead."

He hums a laugh. 

“As you wish.” 

The cool brush of Astarion’s lips on her neck has Evelyn’s heart racing, a frantic drum beating against his ears. It’s just as intoxicating as he remembers, threatening to muddle the edges of his mind. “Just try to keep still for me.” he whispers.

The warning is sincere, but the stubborn woman misinterprets him. Thinking he’s toying with her, she opens her mouth, intent on insulting him, but stops short, whining pitifully when his fangs break the surface of her skin. Her body flinches at the initial discomfort, but otherwise remains virtually motionless; compliant.

Drinking from her now feels like an entirely new experience. This time, he anticipates the raging current - knows how to find his footing. Rather than being ripped under, it feels as though Astarion is floating, enveloped in warmth unlike any he’s ever known. At best, he would imagine it similar to a hug, had he ever been on the receiving end of one.

He begins to lap at the wound to keep it from closing, the press and drag of his tongue drawing out a few small, involuntary twitches from the girl. She’s being so good for him, staying put like she’d been told; fighting her own restlessness, the urge to squirm in place.

If only she would allow him to reward her, to offer his body in exchange for this endless parade of favors, he would take the chance in a heartbeat. It would be so, so easy with her, unlike any miserable encounter he’d been forced into partaking in the last few centuries. He knows he would enjoy her body, along with all the lovely little sounds she would make for him; the temporary bliss.

And it would be a fair price to pay for keeping him safe, fed, and warm . 

The mental image has Astarion’s hand moving without his knowledge, too engrossed to notice his own palm caressing the side of her face. His thumb traces the edge of her cheek as he holds her there, allowing the weight of her head to rest against his fingers. Dark strands of hair brush against his knuckles, bringing him back to the present.

He thinks Evelyn hasn’t noticed yet, believes himself safe to correct the mistake without any mutual discomfort.

Which leaves him infinitely more overwhelmed when her smaller hand grazes up the length of his arm, wrapping it around his wrist to keep it in place. Her body relaxes into his touch, seemingly more grounded. 

The intimacy is like a punch to the chest.

She’s suddenly too close for comfort. It’s claustrophobic - suffocating, strangling him along with whatever sense he had left, apparently. That damned vanilla, the dizzying scent of her blood -

Air, he thinks, I just need some fresh air.

Astarion pulls away from her, readying an apology and an excuse to swiftly dismiss the woman. 

But when Evelyn meets his gaze, the words die prematurely.  

She is a vision , freckles dappling her skin like star-covered porcelain, now flushed red from nose to cheeks. The whites of her eyes have gone glossy, dazed and dream-like, tempting him further into her space.

Her tongue darts out to wet her parted lips, the small gesture commanding his attention. He finds himself entirely fixated on them, as if it would take another life-altering, unnatural disaster to pull his focus away. 

Evelyn’s lashes flutter in recognition, then she quickly releases his wrist. The residual heat fades before he can appreciate it, leaving him cold once again. 

“Oh, sorry.” 

“My apologies."

Their speech overlaps, then silence fills the room again, and they are left to stare at each other. His hands suddenly feel much too idle at his sides, itching. He throws on a polite smile, a familiar mask, but the expression doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Astarion has never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. His hunger is sated, and he should feel satisfied. He should feel like a new man. 

So why, then, does he only feel this intolerable weight in his chest?

Why does his stomach turn at the idea of her so carelessly offering herself up to any vampire spawn, let alone himself , despite the obvious danger? 

Why is he so deeply frustrated by her lack of self preservation?

Isn’t this exactly what he wanted; to have her crawling back for more?

He can't help but wonder if this sudden apprehension is part of her little plan: to confuse him, drive him to distraction, then bring him to his knees like every other unfortunate man she’s had in her sights before robbing them and tossing them aside.

Out-seducing a vampire would admittedly be an admirable feat, but why? What could her angle be, when Astarion has nothing to offer her? 

“Are you alright? You look… lost.” 

He blinks back to the present. 

“I - ” He coughs, " Ahem . Yes, dear. Of course.” 

Hot, crimson streaks drip down the sharp bone of his chin. He springs into action, away from her unfavorable concern, and grabs his nightshirt from off the floor behind him. He has just the one, beautifully embroidered and sewn back together countless times by his own hands, now being used in place of a common napkin. 

Evelyn gasps. The sound is like ice, piercing his chest when he realizes his mistake. The devil’s never seen him without a shirt on before now. Meaning, she had never bore witness to the elaborate poem carved into his back - ugly, raised scars painting his flesh and soiling his otherwise perfectly sculpted muscle. 

He regrets not humoring her request to redress earlier. 

The elf plays off the noise as if he hadn’t heard it, turning to hand her the clothes and hoping she knows better than to mention anything of it. She silently takes the garment from him and places it where he had bitten her. A blooming red stain soaks into the pale fabric. He’ll have to work on getting it out for the next several days, if it decides to come out at all.

Evelyn finally moves to stand, teetering a bit from lightheadedness. Astarion reaches out to steady her, but she shakes her head, declining. 

“I’m okay.”

He retracts his hand. The damned thing’s gotten him into enough trouble tonight already. 

“Well then, you should get some rest.” 

She scoffs, “Wow, not even a thank you?”

He lowers his voice, practically growling at her, “My dear, if you’d allow me to properly thank you, you wouldn’t be leaving this tent. Maybe not for the next week, if I’m feeling generous.”

A pretty little flush once again spreads across her face. He’s rather pleased with himself, thinking he’s finally stunned her. 

“And if you weren’t feeling generous?”

Rising to meet him, then. She is playing a very dangerous game.

Astarion closes what little distance there is left between them and grabs her face by the jaw, grip firm . The force has her stumbling, the back of her thighs meeting the hard edge of the table. Wood digs into her skin as the legs grate loudly against his decorative rugs, shifting from the sudden push.

Evelyn’s eyes shut, brows furrowed and panting as she clutches his forearms to steady herself.

To his wicked delight, she does not pull away.

His thumb drags over her bottom lip. The effort she’s expending not to whine at his gentle touch has him reeling. Her skin burns beneath his palms. 

“Then, I’d strip you, tie your limbs to this desk,” he murmurs against her lips, before tilting to whisper his confession hot in her ear. 

“And you wouldn’t be leaving this tent. Ever . ”

He abruptly releases her, turning away and waving her off. 

“Now, go. We have a big day tomorrow.”

Not sparing the woman a glance, he begins gathering his books and setting them back onto the table beside her.

She says nothing in response, but he hears her tear open the entrance to his tent and step out into the night.

[commenter2]

The Show Must Go On episode review (Hazbin Hotel S1 finale)

The finale of season 1 of Hazbin Hotel. MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW! Also long post warning

Did the title of the episode strangely remind anyone else of the failed videogame “Showdown Bandit”? Anyone?

Charlie wishing her mom was there. Likely foreshadowing her appearing near the end.

Charlie really likes a man in uniform. Maybe take some notes on that Vaggie XD.

Looks like we got a glimpse at how Niffy sees the world, which is apparently similar to Randy Cunningham when as the Ninja.

Again CHARLE=PURITY

I’m not liking how Pentious said that quote about living and dying.

During Al’s speech, you can see Charlie realizing that Pen likes Cherri and being happy for him. Charlie is Pen X Cherri shipper confirmed XD

Could Al be really starting to care about the others?

Angel X Husk and Pen X Cherri fanservice, Charlie liking the last one XD

Oh now Cherri is interested in Pen.

COME ON, KISS YOU TWO! YES!!!

Gross, Adam’s personality is rubbing off on Lute. Even Adam is getting uncomfortable with it and considering its Adam that’s saying something.

The Heaven Bucks things sounds really fake, mostly cause I feel like money doesn’t exist/is necessary for Heaven.

WHAT THE HECK ARE THOSE OUTFITS CHARLIE AND VAGGIE ARE WEARING!?! And why am I getting She-Ra/RWBY vibes from them? Also Charlie is wearing her crown, cute.

I’m intrigued by Charlie’s shield cause I was kind of expecting to see Charlie use her pitchfork along with it, but the shield is still a nice bit of symbolism for how she wants to protect people and not harm anyone…that much. It also shows that she and Vaggie are a great team/couple as Charlie is the defense while Vaggie is the offense.

My fellow DEATH BATTLE fans (which is hopefully a lot of you) get ready to analyze Charlie’s powers, skills, and feats in this fight!

Al’s shield being another feat of how powerful Alastor is, though I wonder if his recent deal with Charlie helped with it?

Aww come one Niffty finally has a chance to go all psycho and all we see is her just stabbing corpses!

While Charlie’s crown is black on the outside, its gold on the inside/other side. Not only do I think this is a Dante’s Inferno reference (it reminds me of the hypocrites’ part but reversed) it also symbolizes how even though she is the daughter of the Devil, Charlie is still a good person.

Alastor’s using shadow jutsu!

OK I DID NOT SEE AL’S VOICE CHANGING after his cane got destroyed. At least this explains how those times I noticed his voiced changed in previous episodes.

Valentino was really saddened when Vox said seeing Alastor about to die was better then sex XD. It’s also funny cause there is a similar line in Netflix’s Castlevania series, which I could definitely see fans making parodies of soon.

Wait WTF is going on now with his voice? Ugh.

That’s our Charlie, even when in a war she is still apologizing. Also her glitter is WAY more effective than Dale Gribble’s pocket sand XD

Also if you slow down the scene enough, you can see that Charlie’s shield damaged and dented the angelic spear, meaning its likely made of something stronger then the angelic steel mentioned by Carmilla in “Hello Rosie”

Charlie shooting fireworks from her fingertips, a nice example of her powers AND a callback to the pilot.

NO NOT THE EGGBOIS! Luckily Angel finally used his secret set of arms to save one of them, we even get to hear his theme song.

And Pen X Cherri fans REJOICED! Also again showing how shallow Cherri can be.

Aww this can’t be goWHAT THE FUCK! I couldn’t even finish writing this sentence because of how fast Pen’s death was! I mean it was implied he was going to die but I thought it be more dramatic than that! Can the Helluva Boss writers at least do this for when they finally kill Striker, or have it happen in my episode idea where Moxxie and his father in law do it?

OOO ITS TIME FOR CHALIE’S DEMON FORM. And in a Sailor Moon kind of way too.

WAIT THAT’S IT? It’s just her regular horns and a tail. The writers really need to amp up these “full demon” forms of the characters as this, Ozzie’s, and Mammon’s forms have been really disappointing to me especially when compared to Stolas and even Helsa’s odd form from the pilot. I hope that this is some kind of semi form or one of many transformations of Charlie’s, and her REAL demon form is something more monstrous but it results in her losing control.

I do like Razzle and Dazzle being dragons, as I did recall them having such a power but this is better than what I was thinking they’d transform into.

DAZZLE NO! At least he died protecting Charlie.

VAGGIE VS. LUTE ROUND 2 (ding ding sound effect from episode)

(Adam slaps Charlie) Again we need fanart of Lucifer and Lilith kicking Adam’s ass.

So a part of me likes that Vaggie spared Lute cause it shows she is better than the so called “angel”, but a part of me knows this is going to bite back later on.

Lute riping her own arm off just proves the previous statement. Still I wonder what a cyborg angel will be like.

You can control fire and shoot fireworks from your fingers, you these things to make Adam let go of you Charlie!

SO Adam is wearing a mask, like I brought up before. I wonder what he looks like under it.

I’m not mad at Lucifer coming in late, cause he likely couldn’t as he probably realized it would just lead to more problems involving Heaven, but again he shows that he is the best dad so far in the series by coming in to save Charlie. Take notes Stolas!

Huh, Adam looks pretty normal looking, even looks a bit like Lute. I was expecting something really ugly under the mask like a pale complexion, sweat, and an unshaven face especially since he has worm that the entire time we have seen him.

OH HO now were getting that Adam ass kicking. Too bad that line from Lucifer kind of ruined it. I mean I can kind of see it being on brand with his goofy personality but still.

Again no one is saying Lilith’s name here. Also I know Lucifer is likely joking about him and Eve being together and just referencing the apple, but I really want to hear Lucifer say he’s only been with Lilith for all his life, then took a break after the divorce.

“NOT THE HOTEL”, is what I would be saying if the trading cards weren’t released early. Still devastating to see.

Like when Adam was choking her, Charlie had the means to save herself there as she is confirmed to have wings. Maybe their waiting for a special occasion to use them.

(Charlie transforms) What was that? At least this confirms that Charlie can transform and confirm that hoove/foot idea I brought up in the last review. I wonder if this is some kind of power from her mother?

Okay Lucifer’s demon form is pretty good. This does make me wonder what that shadow thing of his form the pilot is, if that is still canon. Hopefully it is and it confirms that Charlie can have multiple demon forms.

Holy crap they killed Adam off and Death by Niffy no less! I mean I wanted Adam and Lute to get out of the picture so someone better could take the role of angelic antagonist, but I never thought they would just kill Adam off. At least Vaggie is really happy about this, and I don’t blame her XD. It’s nice to see her smile like this.

Again we see that Lucifer has restraint, which is still interesting.

Lute took his halo. I sense some trouble coming from this. Fingers crossed that it involves how Heaven is okay with Adam being gone, and Lute becoming the thing she hates to destroy Hell AND the “traitors” of Heaven.

I’m still mix on Katie Killjoy being voiced by Brandon. It is making me wonder if Katie was always going to be like this or if they’re altering her to be more like Brandon’s female characters like Bryce. I mean I always though Katie would have a role where she just keeps spreading bad things about Charlie’s hotel, even making things up/ hire others to cause trouble for Charlie so the news can keep reporting on her. Heck she is even thanking them which I never saw pilot Katie never doing through she could be doing it to save face on livestream television. It’s still a funny idea and it has even remined me that there was a time in animation where shows had reoccurring characters whose main thing about them was being obvious references to other fictional or even real characters like Total Drama had characters such as Harold being a Napoleon Dynamite parody and Anne Maria referencing Snooki, Dr. Orpheus from the Venture Bros. was a cheap Dr. Strange knockoff (but still really funny), and there is one character in Atop the 4th Wall that I won’t spoil here cause it’s that crazy, so check it out for yourselves when you can.

Another cameo of Baxter and ARACKNISS!

I also wonder if the Exterminations will be put to a halt here as pointed out in the sliding text on the news channel. It would be interesting to see if Hell really does have an overpopulation problem, and what that would look like.

I’m surprised the V’s aren’t reacting to this more, more so with Vox but it’s likely that he saw the fight with Adam and Alastor and now has a plan on destroying Alastor. That would be cool to see in the next season.

THANK GOD FAT NUGGETS SURIVED! I think VIvzie would have had a riot on her hands if she allowed him to die.

Lucifer said the episode title!

So it looks like Alastor DID care for the others, but now he is dedicated to getting his freedom back from what I still think could be the Lilith imposter who will also be an upcoming deadly force/threat

KeeKee has a Keyblade form!

Yeah Vox and Val are definitely going to use this news for personal gain. The real question is if Velvette will aid them, as her recording them say all this feels like she will try and go out on her own, dragging her allies down in the process. Fitting given her song from “Scrambled Eggs”.

Nice song, great that both Sir Pentious AND Dazzle got memorials, and the new hotel looks amazing as it has a little bit of symbolism from all the others like Husk’s casino vibe and Angel’s career.

PEN IS IN HEAVEN! Emily is loving it while Sera looks confused and scared, BOTH cause she has never saw this happen before or knows that this will kick off some serious consequences like a version of the Armageddon prediction. This is great as now even if the recent fan theory of Emily becoming a fallen angel happens, Charlie now has another ally in Heaven to help spread her redemption plan on that side of things, great for what I can see happening in the next season.

Oh hey everyone its “Lilith”. Yeah I still believe in the “Imposter Lilith” theory that I’ve been talking about lately, and the sunglasses bit adds to it since it is hiding her eyes, like how her face was covered in “Dad Beat Dad”. Plus there have been many times in stories where sunglasses were used to hide something in fiction. Also in the past, we’ve gotten info on her saying how she would like to fight against Heaven, so its odd that she would want sanctuary in it unless she has plans that involve her being there. The biggest clue would have to be that the real Lilith would likely have cheered when she heard Adam was dead. I did talk about how the Imposter could likely want to destroy everything, so for all we know she is pretending to be Lilith who wanted sanctuary in Heaven (if they even know she is there) which is all just a ruse to get info on how to destroy Heaven to fulfill her life’s work and if anything ever happens, the Imposter can rely on her servant Lute and the Exorcist to aid her.

I will admit that it COULD be the real Lilith. I did make a recent post on my Tumblr going over how I think Lilith actually recruited the Imposter to help her take down Heaven a peg a long item ago, but she eventually realized the Imposter had bigger plans that involved destroying everything in existence and Lilith has since been trying to stop the Imposter. At one point things could have gotten so bad to a point that she had to hide in Heaven (again if they even know she is there) until she thought of a plan to stop it like having Lute work for her (again maybe Al works for the Imposter) and similar to what I have in my “Season 1 is a test for Charlie” Lilith knew Adam wasn’t up for the task of defending everyone from the Imposter, so she had to install Lute as leader of the Exorcist so there would be at least a small capable army to fight against the Imposter/upcoming threat if things got bad. However now that Charlie’s redemption plan is getting more support and is proven to be true, Lilith could be scared that the Imposter could go after her and Lucifer next, so I think next season she will try and convince Charlie to stop her goals until they have a plan of stopping the Imposter. Maybe since she made a deal with Lute, she has no choice but to stop Charlie or risk losing the one chance they have at saving everything from the Imposter…until she learns that her daughter was able to make an army to stop the Exorcist which could lead to Lilith changing her mind and maybe think that Heaven and Hell should work together to stop the Imposter/big threat. Even then there could be consequences as we don’t know what exactly happens if a deal with a demon is ever broken. Would said demon die or would the natural of the forces of the universe go crazy until something happens? For any non Percy Jackson fans and those that don’t care about spoilers for it, look up “Trials of Apollo” and “River Styx” to get an understanding of what I mean by broken deals.

That was a GREAT episode AND a great finale for the first season of Hazbin Hotel.

We got tons of action, drama, suspense, fanservice, and mystery just like how I like my shows. The finale was really good cause its on track for what I’ve been saying I would like to see Charlie go through when it comes to the next step of trying to convince the people of Heaven and Hell her redemption plan is a good thing in general for the afterlife.

The only minor problems I have with it is that they didn’t utilize Niffty as much as I thought they would in the battle.

When it comes to the season as a whole it was great, with episode 4 being the worst as we all knew those events were coming but thanks to Helluva Boss it was made less serious to me.

I also agree with other fans that biggest problem the season had was that there should have been more episodes. I mean people know how popular Hazbin Hotel AND Helluva Boss is so it’s a bit odd that they didn’t get more then 8 episodes, especially since they aren’t the usual hour long episodes that are everywhere. Not to mention how half the season came out all at once here on Amazon Prime.

Apparently this is a big problem with Amazon Prime shows in general, BUT luckily given how well received the whole season has been (wordplay pun not intended), I’m hopeful that this will convince the people at A24 and Prime to give Vivzie and the HH cast more funding to make MORE episodes for next season, like maybe 14 this time. Sure this could delay the release of season 2, which is apparently already being made, but I bet I’m not alone when I say I’d be okay with such a delay if it means more Hazbin Hotel.

Hopefully next season though there are less trailers and clips released, another reason why there should be more episodes to help dimmish such things, AND if there is another early release on A24 it should just be like 2 days before the season comes on Amazon Prime and NOT a whole week.

I’m also calling it now that the season 2 episode premiere of Hazbin Hotel will start with a news segment with Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench recapping some of the events of last season and telling us what has happened to both the characters and Hell/Heaven since the finale. I also predict that Lilith, whether the real one or the Imposter posing as her, will appear at the end of said episode starting off that season’s main story.

I definitely want to hear your thoughts on not only this episode, but also on the entire season so don’t be shy. What do you think/hope will happen in season 2? What kind of episodes or stories would you like to see in the next season? What theories do you have?

LET ME HEAR IT!!!

[butterflydm]

WoT Rewatch (2x05-2x06)

Spoilers for what we know so far for season three and through book eleven, knife of dreams.

2x05

I love how varied the costumes are for the Seanchan Blood. So much variety! And we get some really good insight into their culture in this scene.

Also... is Turak related to the Empress? He has a fully-shaved head, and I think the only other person in the books who has a full-shaved head is Tuon. Is this something known in the books one way or the other or is it just a show vibe?

Double-checking book info, it does seem like being full-shaved means you're part of the Imperial family, and that Turak was also fully-shaved in the books, so he was always part of the Imperial family. Okay! I think I didn't add those pieces together before but it kinda makes sense that if one member of the Imperial family was the head of the formal Return, then another member of the Imperial family was in charge of the Forerunners.

But yeah the stylization, the heirarchy, all the different rules people follow. They did a really good setting it up. And having Turak explicitly believe that he's acting 'for the Light' like the Whitecloaks do, and that the whole reason that the Seanchan are here is because they believe that they need to "unite" the country in the name of the Empress "under the Light".

Also - the importance of the power of the Horn is emphasized here. Again.

Fain really is a much less independent character in the show than the books but he also seems to be a lot more trusted by Ishy.

Poor Rand has learned he's in a horror movie.

The True Power looks suitable for a horror movie too.

Moiraine does a very good (if ruthless) job of covering their tracks as they escape. She successfully double-bluffs Lanfear.

And we really do see the "casual cruelty" that Moiraine is about to mention. That man was straight-up helping Leanfer and she kills him like swatting a fly. I do think she does her best to hide this side of herself from Rand through the rest of the season. She knows he wouldn't approve. I wonder if that is going to continue into s3 -- her trying to hide her cruelty towards others from Rand.

Perrin and Elyas have their big clash here over motivations -- Elyas only cares about wolves & wolf people, while Perrin has strong ties to his people and his friends.

Poor Rand learns that his job isn't done. In fact, Moiraine's plan made everything worse, by freeing Ishamael!

Moiraine is so confidently wrong here. "If he frees them all, we have no hope of winning the Last Battle."

So glad Perrin has Hopper with him. ❤️

Perrin sniffing and getting wolf visions! But it's a sad one about Uno's corpse.

But there's not only a dead Uno but a live Aviendha!

And we get Dain Bornhald, who has a lot more tension with Perrin here than in the books lol

Yeeeah, Dain recognizes Perrin's wedding ring as "Two Rivers work" and that's how he guesses where Perrin is from.

Ugh, this fucking guy who runs the inn now. Fine with the Seanchan because it meant the previous innkeeper left (because her granddaughter was kidnapped by the Seanchan to be forced into being damane) and so he got to take over her inn. Wild to me that some book readers are okay with book!Mat basically turning into this guy (during CoT & KoD). I am so so glad that it feels like the show is taking a firm stance on Mat's moral character right now, and tying him into being one of the Heroes and us showing the Heroes in opposition to the Seanchan (not just in the final battle of the season but with Uno dying rather than bowing to the Seanchan). They just all feel like pretty deliberate choices that reassure me that show!Mat is never going to become this douchebag innkeeper who is willing to overlook slavery as long as he's not the one in chains.

Valda really does take any coincidence as proof that the Light wants him to 'question' people at knifepoint. Aiel show up at the same time as invaders from completely the opposite direction as the Aiel Waste? Wow, they must be related!

"He's still so young. I must remember that."

Thanks, Lanfear. Very creepy of you. I love how much her whole way of carrying herself is different now that the ruse is over. We saw hints of this woman before in 'Selene' but now she's out in full force.

Oh, this scene with the Brown sisters is so sad knowing what Nyomi really thinks of Verin. But at least we have Yassica! 🤞 Let's hope that she doesn't die!

Our poor kidnapped babies!

This convo between Liandrin & Nynaeve is good. Liandrin has so much bitterness in her.

I really love this moment of petulant temper that Suroth shows towards Ishamael. I like that her being a Darkfriend doesn't override her being an arrogant Blood. Her culture and her 'noble upbringing' still very much marks her behavior.

Hmm, Turak's death potentially plunging the Empire into civil war is another point towards me going, "oh yeah he's a member of the Imperial family".

So Ishy is making the same mistake that Moiraine made last season - he's trying to skip the prophecies and go straight to the Last Battle.

"People shouldn't be in cages." ❤️

Great intro for Aviendha. ❤️🧡

Perrin trying again to be protective over a woman and is shown she doesn't need or want it.

Lol her face when he asks her not to kill Dain.

Dain does see Perrin's gold eyes here.

Our first on-screen mention of TAR! Moiraine avoids telling Rand she can't channel, just says that she can't use the OP to keep them awake.

Rand exposed to the idea of political marriages here. Don't think he's impressed.

Liandrin (presumably) whammied Sheriam pretty hard (or maybe it was Nyomi who did it, since she used a similar-seeming weave on Verin & Adelas in the sneak peek. but we don't know if the two of them are working together yet or not).

I hope Yassica is somewhere safe in 3x01! She knows things! That's dangerous.

Gawyn name drop!

I note that Nyomi isn't present for Yassica's realization that the Black Ajah exists. Hopefully that makes Yassica safer!

Ah, Liandrin and Suroth. Technically on the same side but they hate each other so much. We may see a similar dynamic between some of the Forsaken next season.

Yeah, Liandrin is PISSED that she has to hand over the girls. And Ishy not meeting her personally feels like another sign that Liandrin is not currently in his favor.

And given how shocked Liandrin was to see that Nynaeve was in the White Tower, I think freeing Nynaeve was probably more about getting Suroth into Ishy's disfavor rather than believing they could actually escape.

Perrin-Avi romance teased but then shot down. And some Aiel lore!

Aviendha trying to figure out how explain the most basic concepts to Perrin when he doesn't get them at all.

Elayne and Nynaeve's rough beginnings here. Elayne trying so hard for caution while Nynaeve is focused on their mission (and rebelling against what she feels is Elayne's high-handed manner).

Verin in her head: "you are a LIAR, Liandrin."

Another great scene between Anveare & Moiraine. Correctly clocking that Moiraine doesn't have a clue what to do.

It's so sad how highly both Moiraine & Anveare think of Barthanes. He let them down in the worst way possible.

The TAR pajama party! Fun times. I like the mix of Old Tongue & modern.

"Desperation opens the mind to more interesting choices."

Ishy thinks he knows Lanfear well enough to predict her but doesn't keep a close enough eye on her plans to realize that she's also trying to use Moiraine as a pawn.

Mmm, yeah, what Lanfear says here ("is your little Aes Sedai pushing them along the way?") backs up my theory that Liandrin got her toys yanked away because she messed up.

Ishy calls everyone in the EF5 incorrectly except maybe Nynaeve ("fears power" but even there idk if that's quite on the money). Mat isn't his; Perrin embracing the wolf won't bring him closer to the Shadow; Egwene does not crave power for its own sake. He might be closer with Nynaeve because of how much time Liandrin spent with her.

(Court of the) Nine Moons name drop. So if a certain prophecy is mentioned next season, the pieces will be in place for observant viewers to make a connection.

Our poor Egwene.

If Egwene is stronger than any damane seen in "a long, long time", I wonder if that means Alivia is cut from the show. Or she's old enough to go past "a long long time" and not count. Maybe Suroth doesn't know about Alivia. That strong a damane seems likely to be reserved for the Imperial family.

We get the confirmation of Lanfear's past love being LTT. Also, gotta say, turning to the Shadow to try to win back LTT... yeah, that's the stellar decision-making that I expect from Lanfear lol. Great choice, babe. I'm sure that worked out really well for you. LTT was super-impressed with your life choices.

Rand half-naked and bound to a representation of the Wheel- never has a truer understanding of the books and Rand's entrapment by fate been shown. A+

2x06

This episode is really difficult to watch but I am so glad it exists. I like that the show forces viewers to take an unflinching look how horrific the damane breaking process is, because Jordan does mostly have it take place off-screen, which I think let some readers minimize what a traumatic experience it was for Egwene (and every damane) and which, in turn, helps explain (along with the big real-life time gap between TGH & CoT) why a large subset of readers had no issue with Mat trying his hardest to fall in love with a sul'dam, because Jordan allowed readers to gloss over what horrific things the sul'dam do. And the show says "nuh-uh, you don't get to ignore this" and I appreciate that so much.

But it is definitely brutal and hard to watch.

I imagine that the choices the show made this season will have (and were meant to have) a big impact on how the Mat-Tuon romance will play out - Mat being one of the Heroes, who are shown in direct opposition to the Seanchan's ideology (via Uno dying rather than bowing to them), Renna & Seta dying this season, the changes to how sul'dams and searching for damane work, etc. Very intrigued by how that might play out in the future.

Even in that first shot, we see the water jug that symbolizes Egwene's struggle against Renna.

We can hear screams in the background. 😭

"I will have to hurt you until you tell me." Attempting to remove her own moral culpability from the cruelty she engages in.

Maddy's physical acting here is so good that it makes me cringe. Looks so painful!

Rand and Lanfear's first real conversation. Of course, they are both in this with an agenda.

Yeah, Lanfear says straight-up here that she's been 'protecting' him from Ishy in his dreams. Wonder if he's thinking back to all those nightmares that he's been having under her 'protection'.

Rand and Lanfear each trying to play each other (though Lanfear has a lot more practice at it). This seems likely to be a big part of their dynamic next season.

Moiraine is wondering if she just fucked up big again.

Mat is so light and loose here. ❤️

Elayne and Nynaeve's fight here is so perfect - makes sense and is funny.

Nynaeve and Ryma's interactions in this episode are everything. So good. I am so glad Nynaeve was given the chance to bond with and learn from a Yellow Sister.

Lanfear poaches Liandrin from Liandrin, and we see both her manipulation & her cruelty here.

"The last tie to the girl you used to be."

That gives me some thoughts on how Lanfear might approach things with Rand next season.

We see the horror of the damane system here but the episode does not neglect how terrible the da'covale system is either, with the way that Suroth treats Loial. The dehumanization & the mockery.

We learn later that Lanfear is the one who directs Ingtar to the Horn, and we know from the books that he's a Darkfriend, so we have that connection there. Another way of her interrupting Ishamael's plans to substitute her own.

Yeah, seeing the sul'dam bracer up close, it definitely reminds me of the bracer that Nyomi stole from the 13th Depository.

"If you want to be free, make sure Mat leaves with [Rand]."

Yeah, I think Ishy was wanting Rand & Mat to travel to Falme on foot, a months-long journey, which would give him plenty of time to have Egwene broken and Nynaeve captured by the time they arrived.

Siuan is off visiting Caemlyn again.

Lan doesn't trust Alanna & co, and they don't trust him. A very tense scene. Yeah, Lan wasn't trusting them at all in the earlier ep. But this encounter helps Lan to trust them! They were willing to kill him if they believed he was a Darkfriend!

And Alanna gets the Dragon Reborn bombshell dropped on her head.

Hmm, I wonder if Lanfear realizes that giving this dream to Rand and then 'protecting him' from Ishty in it, after her earlier claims, might only help him realize that she was the one behind his earlier nightmares rather making him trust her more. Because this is the same nightmare that he's been having under her 'protection'.

So going back to what she said to Liandrin, I can actually see her motives for trying to kill Egwene later on being about trying to cut off 'the last ties to his boyhood' as opposed to sexual or romantic jealousy.

Lanfear holding out Egwene as a lure to Rand, probably both glad to have something to use over him but jealous as fuck over the reasons.

And we see that Rand really did see the real Egwene in the dream.

Poor Maigan.

Nynaeve & Elayne showing their loyalty to Egwene. ❤️

Team Light works out both how to open the a'dam and the truth of sul'dams here. We don't see the conversation on-screen this season but I am kinda assuming that, unlike the books, the Wondergirls will share this info with Moiraine & the boys.

I really like the details at Barthanes's cuffs and collar.

Moiraine really has cultivated an inability to trust anyone unless forced. It likely saved her life in the past but it is definitely making it harder for her now. Even Siuan and Lan, she pushes away when she worries that she no longer has the ability to protect them.

"If you want power, you take it." Very like Lanfear's philosophy, what Logain says here.

Cauthor reunion!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Never getting over this! Rand smiles like he hasn't smiled all season! Mat tenderly touching Rand's head! Mat wipes tears out of his eyes! And Mat really was the best person for Rand to reunite with first out of the EF5 because he wronged Mat the least with his pretend death (since it happened after they'd been separated) and Mat did something similar to all of them, so the scales are more balanced. They have some fears in common and can understand each other's motives.

And Mat's main motive seems to be to get Rand to talk to him & open up.

Elayne the inventor, studying the ter'angreal. Ugh, it's so heartbreaking hearing Ryma's story. Two dead Green Sisters, and Maigan captured.

Renna feigning being a ~good~ sul'dam who just wants to be friends with her damane but is easily pushed into brutality when her patience reaches its end, when Egwene doesn't hand over loyalty and affection on demand. Because having that kind of absolute power over another person is a corruptive influence all on its own.

Renna making Egwene burn the tree that brought her comfort. 😭

Nynaeve and Elayne's little moment here us so good.

"I left them behind." Mat can understand Rand here so well, and he's so sweet. And Rand immediately reciprocates. Rand knows that Egwene in Falme is a trap but can't not go.

So yeah, this second Cauthor roadtrip was Ishy's goal but first Min and then Siuan get in his way.

"My mate, who I've been telling you about." Mat has been gushing about Rand to Min. 🥰

Yeah, I'm glad that Mat & Min are going to get to sort things out next season (I assume).

"I genuinely thought you were my friend."

😭😭😭

"If you love him, stay away."

😭😭😭

This reunion went so hard.

Moiraine learns that she's run out of time. Siuan is here, with enough Aes Sedai to shield (or gentle) a male channeler, probably even the Dragon Reborn.

Mat watching Rand from a distance with teary eyes, and Rand's sad resignation to traveling to Falme alone (before Lan's ambush). Babies!

Poor baby Egwene. *eternal hugs*

Ryma's teaching methods compared to Liandrin's.

Ryma & Basan's fight against the Seanchan is so good. And heartbreaking. I hope we get to save her next season. I like that the ways she channels against the Seanchan feel like they use her healer's knowledge of the body.

And there's another reason why Nynaeve was the one to go testify against Liandrin - to return the rings that Ryma entrusted to her to the flame.

And we see the Warder bond as both strength AND weakness here. Both are important.

Just. Instant, involuntary tears during this whole section. The intense sadness for Egwene and Ryma and every woman forced into this horrorshow. The way seeing this horror bonds Elayne and Nynaeve in their determination to save Egwene.

And Renna adding insult to injury by pouring out the water after Egwene can bring herself to pour it. And Egwene's scream of pain and despair.

But then the steel entering her eyes again at the end. She's still got plenty of fight left in her, even if she broke for a moment in this episode.

[sand-seeks-sun]

Social Knitwork

Part 1 of a series - the next is here ! (WVR lvl 50[Heavensward] quest in character writing - quest line spoilers guaranteed)

Of course his boss sent him out of country now - that's the price of success! But did he really have to drive the needle in further by not even having an accurate guess as to where he should be offering services? Ugh… Embarrassment after embarrassment Ishgard has become. At the last of his straws to be broken does Kham begrudgingly accept ONE MORE vague lead that requires running all the way across this Fury's forsaken place and to the (thankfully warmer) halls of some church. The woman there is kind. Polite even, in a way he can't help being polite towards in return, even in his state. So her request to be a tutor is taken with a signature 3 nods of eagerness from him, and a mask-covered smile! Sure, this may not exactly be what Kham had in mind when Guildmaster Rose mentioned flaunting craft in Ishgard, but… Kham is choosing to be an optimist today. What a tragedy that rare state is met with the very girl he's been instructed to meet with recognizing the crafter for his tools as they see one another and launching with no introduction into a fit over how utterly little she wants this tutoring to be happening at all! But… How he empathizes. Deeply so.

His own mother, misguided in her love, had always been insistent in his youth that Kham put his spare time into wrestling, or fishing, or sheering- anything to be around other boys his age, really- when he would've rather every second be put towards his passion for thread-craft. Crochet is quiet, the loom is in a pleasant corner of their yurt when put out, the fibers feel soothing between his growing finger scales as well. Truly what isn't there to love about spending one's time making something, thread by thread, personal for whoever you want? There is a greater power in that than any muscle, Kham thinks. No, Kham knows so. But… His mother is his mother, and her pride in him feels of greater importance. For that brings a smile too.

As Khamgaal sits on the rounded bench that surround the frosty fountain with Averil beside him, still comfortably complaining to her newfound horn to speak to, he can't help feeling a little more normal. She can complain all she wants to.