afangirlsmuse

[afangirlsmuse]

Batstarion but what if moogle

[afangirlsmuse]

“Just enough, however, that she can sit beneath a window and read, Astarion settled at her feet with his head in her lap, his arms lazily draped over her legs and around her middle as the bright rays of the sun catch at his hair and its warmth blankets his back.”

From Chapter 6 of the Infinite Horizon by my lovely friend @winternightjewels

[afangirlsmuse]

WIP-Wednesday

I didn't want to miss it!

Have some of the next chapter of A Wish Beyond the Witchlight

Some spoilers for the 5e campaign module The Wild Beyond the Witchlight. Follows post-game adventure with Astarion and my Tav, Khinna on a quest to get Astarion back into the sunshine.

Khinna is a multi-class warlock/sorcerer. Her patron is the Archfey Zybilna, by whom she was raised, and considers her mother.

********************************************************************

The ride in the gondola was smooth and pleasant, as Swanah promised them. Astarion kept Khinna tucked in snuggly at his side, relishing in the simple comfort of having her close to him. His fingers traced the embroidery he added to the sleeves of a dress for her. A name-day gift for her while they were staying in the lower city. 

As their boat floated over the river, Astarion tilted his head up, gazing at the motes of light that hung in the air around them. He felt Khinna shift slightly, her head resting on the space between his shoulder and chest as she joined him in marveling at the magical sight.  He turned his head slightly and kissed the top of her head. 

“I love you.” He murmured into her hair. She shifted again, looking up and leaning in to press her lips against his. 

“And I love you.” She returned. He gave her a small smile and pulled her back against him, letting her once again use him as a pillow as they stared at the colored orbs of light dancing in the air. 

The ride lasted little more than an hour, though it could have been mere minutes. Having Khinna close to hold gently, without fear of threats looming large on the horizon or nightmares to chase away was something he was still getting accustomed to. But it was definitely something he wanted to get used to. 

The romantic atmosphere of the ride and merriment of the carnival on their return to the pier clutched on his chest, stealing his breath from just how…sentimental, grateful, loved, and happy he felt. True joy, not the satisfied satiation he felt when she bore her neck to him.  It was all so strange and almost too much. 

 He straightened his posture and tensed his muscles after climbing from the boat, trying to focus on anything but the deluge of emotion crashing through him. A blessedly joyful and overwhelmingly positive deluge, but a deluge nonetheless. His grip on Khinna’s hand must have been a tad too firm as it drew her attention to his expression. She guided him off the pier after thanking their gondola swan to a bench in a small alcove, obviously meant for resting in between carnival attractions. 

“What do you need?” She asked, sitting down, taking both of his hands in hers. He shook his head, closing his eyes. 

“Its all so much. I don’t know!” The brush of her thumb across his knuckles did little to ground him, but it was a start. He let out an almost incredulous breathy laugh, “I’ve never felt so elated,” He shook his head as he tried to parse through everything he felt. It wasn’t the emotions themselves that unsettled him. It was the sheer magnitude of them leaving him feeling out of control. Why could he manipulate and lie his way in and out of almost any situation, and yet, being here at a gods damned carnival of all places, had him feeling like he was spiraling out of control?. 

A slip of control, an errant display of emotion, any emotion that wasn’t tailored to his situation meant consequences. Most of which he wanted to avoid. More lashes, more time in the kennel, a victim escaping him. He had to keep in control, even if what he was feeling was good.  He shook his head like it would rattle his unchecked emotions back in line. 

Khinna stayed silent, her grip firm enough to remind him she was there but gentle enough that he could pull free should he need to. He squeezed her hands as she released one of his, bringing it up to his cheek to wipe away a stray tear. Damn this place for making him so sentimental! He huffed, grateful she had not made a scene of it. The last thing he wanted to was seem more vulnerable in such a public place. 

“The carnival has a way of reflecting and amplifying the emotions of its patrons. It’s part of how Mr. Witch and Mr. Light, in particular, make sure their patrons enjoy themselves.” She kept stroking her thumb over his knuckles, her other hand gently caressing his cheek, which he turned into. “Normally, it’s barely perceptible and only affects the atmosphere of the carnival. I suspect after all you have been through, you are much more aware, consciously or not, of your emotions.” His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned more into her touch, trying to chase away the feeling of vulnerability the influx of emotion had on him.  

He felt a calm wash over him then, and he exhaled as he opened his eyes. She had activated the warding bond in their rings. The corners of his mouth lifted in a slight grin. Of course, she knew he was distressed, even if it resulted from good emotions. His body relaxed, and he turned his head to kiss Khinna’s palm. “Thank you…” He murmured to her. 

She returned the soft smile with one of her own and a nod. “Do you need anything? More wine? Do you want to feed?” her hand moved from his face to his hands again. 

He shook his head, “I’m alright now.” 

“Should we do something a bit more thrilling then? Get your mind off of all this sappy and romantic nonsense?” She teased gently. 

He gave a good-natured huff. “Please,” He chaffed back at her, untangling himself, and standing up to offer her his arm. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Khinna guided him back the way they came, and to an attraction they passed on the way in. She looked up at him with another one of those smiles that he adored as they approached a pond with the most enormous lily pads he had ever seen. Eight giant dragonflies flew over their heads in the colored orbs of light. 

At the gate, Khinna dropped his arm, running up to the attendant. “Northwind!” 

A treannt sapling with a lush green canopy and golden garland adorning his branches looked up and smiled. “Khinna!” His leaves rattled, and a little red squirrl appeared, running down the treant’s arms. 

“Khinna?! She's come to visit?!” The squirel launched itself from the treant to Khinna’s bosom. She giggled as Astarion caught up to her. 

“She has!” She said back, giving the squirrel a scratch on the head with her finger. Astarion looked from Khinna to the treant, to the squirrel, quirking an eyebrow curiously. 

“A druid?” He asked curiously, with a slight touch of contempt for the tiny creature clinging to her breast. 

“Oh no Red is just a squirrel.” 

“An awakened squirrel thank you very much!” Red protested scampering up to Khinna’s shoulder, tail twitching curiously as he eyed Astarion. 

Astarion’s eyes narrowed just slightly, and a mischievous glint lit up his expression. He flashed the creature a bit of fang. “Oh good. Thinking creatures make much better snacks!” He snapped his teeth in a mock bite at him. 

“Eek!” The squirrel scurried off of Khinna, leaping back over to the safety of the treat’s branches. Astarion replaced the squirrel on Khinna’s shoulder with his arm casually draped over her. Khinna couldn’t help but giggle again. 

“Oh be nice you,” she said while bringing her hand up to lightly hit his chest in delicate chastisement. 

Red poked his head out of Northwind’s branches again. “Khinna’s prince is not very nice! Not very nice at all!”

[afangirlsmuse]

[Astarion] is a cat. He's a black cat. There's a stray that comes into my house called Red... and he's quite feral. It took me three years before I could pick him up and hold him. He's totally cool with me now. Three fucking years. He gave me a lot of inspiration about Astarion.

- Neil Newbon, on developing Astarion's physicality and mannerisms

[afangirlsmuse]

Start of a story that’s been occupying space in my brain in the recent weeks.

[afangirlsmuse]

Drawing this 80% because I want to draw Aymeric

[afangirlsmuse]

A surprise for @winternightjewels. I drew Azem and Hades meeting in the audition her lovely Reflections verse. And this is them singing together in that audition.

[afangirlsmuse]

For the lovely @winternightjewels. My half of our art trade. A reflections verse Hades x Azem. When they meet for an audition.

[afangirlsmuse]

[afangirlsmuse]

My Azem! Complete with a crown of stars since I can’t get that image from @winternightjewels stories out of my mind.

[afangirlsmuse]

HOUSE

I am a dumbass who forgot to post these shots of Agi and @jessabug916​‘s lady and fellow Estinien enjoyer Aerli <3

[afangirlsmuse]

Things you said prompts!

18. Things you said that scared me.

Ancient ot3 please :3

“I suppose that is why we love him.”

“One of the myriad reasons, yes.”

He should have said something by now.

He most certainly should have said something by now, yet, try as he might, words escape him each time he tries to claw them back and make an appropriate selection, sorted into precisely the right arrangement, for there is definitely a right thing to say at this juncture, even if he cannot convince himself that he knows precisely what it is.

Hades has heard the two of them reading aloud to each other from fantastical tales of all sorts of romance often enough (both because reading together is simply something they do, and, he swears, because they choose certain stories to read within his realm of hearing with the sole intention of teasing him) to understand that it is more than likely that there is an expectation there that he must not make the moment memorable for all the wrong reasons.

Such as the silence that is now beginning to sound like hesitation and uncertainty, when nothing could be further from the truth.

Yet he cannot say a word.

And it is terrifying, being faced with his own incapability and that which he has longed for for such a time as he will never confess, and the result is a racing heart and a tightness in his chest – and, worst of all, the horrifying prospect that he might actually weep with relief to know that they have not misunderstood him these many years. That they have seen through the barrage of chastisement and reprimands and complaint to the simple fact that he does not know how – nor want – to be without them.

But if they understand that much, perhaps there is the chance that he need not worry himself that he yet remains quiet, and that it unlikely that he is making especially impressive work of not letting the fear that threatens to consume him show. Maybe they know that his inability to answer them is not some facet of the more callous nature that he repeatedly and uselessly attempts to shroud himself with, but concern that saying the wrong and less than perfect thing might—

And then there is the other matter. The most frightening.

What if they cross this line and he falls ever more in love with them than he is already, and they are stolen away from him? What if she indeed becomes the next Azem and he must learn to live with a distance from her for months on end, not knowing whether she is safe or hurt and in desperate need of aid? What if Hythlodaeus’ self-sacrificing ways invite something bleak and terrible that he cannot fix?

If he learns to let himself accept his love for them and not deny it, where might it lead?

They are not a safe thing, these feelings, and already he knows he has been stripped of the last of his protection from them.

He looks up at those he loves best, lounging across their laps as he is, and manages a rough and unsteady, “I…”

One of Hythlodaeus’ hands rests over his heart, while she gently brushes her fingers through his hair.

“We know,” she murmurs, her gaze warm.

“We have always known,” Hythlodaeus promises.

And it is a little bit easier to breathe again.

---

Thank you very much for the prompt @jessabug916! :)

('Things you said...' prompts.)

[afangirlsmuse]

“Don’t make me do this” with HythAzemet please!

“There must be another path. Another way.”

“And what, pray tell, might that be? What option are you anticipating will miraculously present itself just at the right time to protect the star and each and every one of us who is left?”

“That you, of all people, who loves the star so very much, would mock—“

“I am not the one stubbornly ignoring the very facts and making a mockery of the duty to do as we must and…”

Hythlodaeus knows better than ever now why they did stubbornly refused to speak much about their work – and never of their professional conflicts with each other – within their home. What work remains at the Bureau has turned to attempts to store concept crystals in safe repositories across the city, dividing them up in hope of limiting losses, but even that is growing more dangerous by the day, the fears of his colleagues and volunteers brought to life before them, concepts summoned inadvertently from crystal and twisted in a matter of seconds.

And he returns home to this. Emet-Selch and Azem arguing, only it is progressively becoming Hades and their wife engaging in rows that wound and cross lines as never before.

He cannot have been as quiet as he believes in closing the front door behind him, for the raised voice in their bedroom (that they must fight with each other in the place they have always kept as a place of sanctuary and safety tears at his heart) abruptly fall silent, and he wonders if they will pretend and plaster false reassurances over raw feelings, or if they will abandon pretences and finally acknowledge that neither one of them has ever been able to keep half as much as they believe from him.

What they would think if they knew what he has decided… If they knew what he intended…

Would it drive them further apart? Will they blame each other?

He imagines they will not understand that it is not a matter of blame and responsibility. What plans the Convocation has, he is well aware of. How could he not be, living in such a storm as he currently is? And he knows how he feels he might be most useful. What his contribution to halting the destruction of the star must be.

It will only make matters worse, to tell them now. There will not be a moment’s peace between them, if such a thing is still possible.

The door cracks open and he hears from her a hushed, “Do not make me do this…”

“You need to stay. You cannot think that—“

“I just need time. Give me more time. Convince them. Please.”

Hades catches at her wrist as she pushes past him, pulling her back to him in a motion that she does not fight for the span of a breath or two, during which she noses along his jaw and allows herself to lean into him, but then she turns and he does not stop her as she dashes tears from her amber eyes and leaves him there in the doorway, his gaze tight with both frustration and a fear he will not let himself surrender to.

She stops short of barrelling into him on her way by to throw her arms around him, lifting up onto her toes to tuck her face into the crook of his neck and hold on tight.

Hythlodaeus wraps his arms snugly around her middle and cannot help but note the longing that softens Hades’ features as he watches them sway together for mere moments, before he too is forced to let her go with a kiss pressed to the top of her head and a murmur of her name.

The front door does not slam. Even her well-guarded temper is not quite so petty.

Yet, in the silence, Hades buckles and reaches for the frame of the bedroom door to hold himself steady, and he swiftly closes the distance between them to fold him into a warm embrace and brush a kiss against his cheek.

No, he cannot tell them now.

He must hope for another path, as she does.

---

Thank you very much for the ask @jessabug916! :)

(Intense dialogue prompts.)

[afangirlsmuse]

Her Words

Inspired by the lovely @winternightjewels ficlet in response to the prompt I left her, “Don’t be what they made(make) you”. This is a follow up story with my own Azem, Calliope.

Written entirely on my phone. Please forgive any mistakes. 

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She had always wanted to introduce her “Words” as they had taken to calling themselves, (for they were,in no way, being paid in any official means by the Convocation nor did they have any official tie to Amaurot) to her husbands. So despite the hurt from her latest censure, she accepted it with all the grace she could muster, deciding that she would use this as an excuse to do just that.

Her “Words” (really just her friends) knew much and more about her husbands, for she always filled their time traveling together with talk of them. It was purely by accident that her husbands knew nearly nothing of them. Every time she had thought to speak of them, Hythlodaeus or Hades distracted (was distracted truly the right word for being so delightfully enraptured between them she could hardly form coherent words let alone sentences?) her.

She sat her husbands down insisting they speak. Hades wore his usual stoic expression, though his brow furrowed a bit more than usual, with what she could only hear in his aether as worry. Hythlodaeus sounded much the same though his expression gave little away. Their thoughts and expressions clued her in to the fact that she may have been *too* insistent. She gave a small smile to attempt to ease their worries. Her husbands found themselves subjected to a crash course in her friends for the rest of their evening. 

They left the city the next week after her friends called on her for help. There were strange magical phenomena on a remote tropical island, the leylines and flow of aether becoming visible. It would be the perfect occasion for her husbands to accompany her, without her feeling like she was being chaperoned. 

———-

Her friends were certainly a…colorful group. Emet-Selch soon realized that there really wasn’t an exaggeration in his wife’s depictions of the eccentricities of her companions. They gave him appraising looks and for the first time in years Hades felt the need to hide himself behind his wife and husband.

“Oh my goodness Calli! I honestly can’t believe you’re letting us meet them!” A younger women nearly screeched. She had short blue black hair blue tinted skin, and horns that grew from her forehead. A historic concept that had developed souls and been allowed to roam the star freely just as Amaurot constructed. A Tiefling, he believed they were called. 

“I’m Phoebe!” She said brightly. “And you must be Hythlodaeus and Had- oh, er, sorry! Emet-Selch right??” She turned to Azem for assurances that she didn’t offend. He would let that go since she did correct herself but chose not to spare her a correcting glance. 

Then there was the rather tall voluptuous woman beside her. She was very clearly a Satyress,a concept that developed souls. A familiar clung to her shoulder in the form of a small ape. She smiled, her expression hinting at a mischievousness that only his wife could have influenced. 

“Oh it’s so nice to meet you *Hades*. Oops.” The nonchalance with which she used his true name irked him, to which she apparently delighted in. 

“And you Hythlodaeus. Calliope has told us so much about you. I’m Anemone. And this is Mister” she gestured to the familiar on her shoulder, scratching at its belly. The tiny creature was packed with fire aspected aether, it made Hades wonder how they were not feeling the warmth the small creature should have been giving off. 

“Oh I think you have picked on them enough.” Came the low drawl of the lanky young man beside Anemone. He possessed the subtle bovine features of a Firbolg, another ancient concept that developed souls. Grinning, he leaned on the crude staff he possessed. “Dimitris” he introduced himself, tipping the brim of his hat to Hades and Hythlodaeus. 

The last of the bunch was not a historic concept but a young man with an instrument strapped to his back. He bore a haughty smirk as he nodded to the two Amaurotines. “Orpheus.” 

“Well!” Their wife clapped her hands once and turned on her heels to face them. “Now that introductions are out of the way, we have gifts for you!” She all but chirped. 

Hythlodaeus was intrigued, “oh?” 

“Yep!” Phoebe chimed, as Anemone dug into an enchanted bag that could hold more than its small size let on. The satyress produced two sets on finely crafted light adventuring gear. 

With a snap, Azem was no longer in her robe and mask, but in gear that appeared to be of similar make to that she was presenting them with. Hades couldn’t help the roll of his eyes. He was about to protest until he saw the aether woven in the gear. 

“You made these without magic.” He said matter of factly, with almost the hint of a smile. 

She nodded, “Yes, well I didn’t want the potency of the aether in some of the material to be lost in the manipulation, so it just takes better to hand crafted enchantments as opposed to the innate enchantments of creation magic- I’m rambling.” She pressed a set into Hades arms. “Yours will bolster your defensive magic and can store aether to be channeled in a way however you choose.” She released the set of armor with the plant of an innocent kiss on his cheek. 

Taking the other set from Anemone, she took it to Hythlodaeus. “And yours allows is designed to amplify and focus your control over ambient aether.” She smiled proudly, leaning in to kiss her other husbands cheek and whispering in his ear so as to not embarrass him, “it will also make manipulating aether easier.” He smiled warmly at her and gave a kiss to her cheek of his own. 

———-

They were all seated around a table on the ship, (which her husbands were quite surprised to find out she and her friends owned) sharing a meal. 

As the current conversation lulled to a close, Hythlodaeus spoke up. “If I may inquire. How did you all meet our lovely wife?” He asked with a smile. 

Phoebe smiled, “she’s my best friend! Has been since I was a little kid!” She looked toward Calliope as she spoke. “My mom was hardly ever around and I don’t know who my dad is, so Calli would play with me when no one else did. Which was a lot of the time honestly. But she taught some magic and we would play pranks on the hoity-toity people who thought they could push me around”

Azem smiled, “we certainly made all kinds of mischief” she said letting her leg brush affectionately against Hades’. 

“Azem saved the orchard where my family lives” Drawled Dimitris. “The plants caught a bad blight one year, nearly starved us and the villages that depended on our crops out. She helped get the the aether flowing right and drove the fungus that blighted our plants out so we could survived. I knew there wouldn’t be a way to repay her, even though she insisted we didn’t need to. Instead I just came with her on her travels to help her out.” The firbolg shrugged. 

“My story isn’t nearly as exciting.” Orpheus spoke up, “I woke up a few years ago without any memory of who I was or where I came from. Azem found me and I thought traveling with her would be better than trying to survive alone in the woods so I just stuck around” 

Hythlodaeus quirked a brow and was about to pry for more information, when his wife spoke, “you won’t get much more from him. He’s still trying to figure everything including himself out.” To which Orpheus nodded in agreement, before he resumed his mindless melodic strumming. Hades eyed the young man warily not completely trusting of him, as he let Hythlodaeus carry the conversation.

“And you Anemone?” 

“Oh I’ve known Calliope since we were just girls. My Nana and her Mama were friends” 

“Venat.” Was his wife’s answer to the unspoken question of both husbands. 

“Yes. Well they were friends, are still friends I suppose. And I just remember Venat and Calliope always comin’ to visit us. I think Nana was trying to teach Venat the magic that we use in the forest. Mainly how we can transform into animals.” 

“It’s different from the methods we use.” Calliope clarified. “Uses less aether and is more about studying fauna than manifesting the true shape of your soul. We called it Wild Shape.” 

Hades seemed to relax at her clarification and the hint of a smile tugged at his lips. Looking between Anemone and Calliope, he started to realize it was less that his wife influenced the mischief in Anemone, and more the other way around. This was perhaps the only other person in the room that knew his wife as well as he and his husband did. It was nice to know she wasn’t alone when she traveled so frequently.

They spent the rest of their evening speaking on embarrassing and amusing stories of their journeys together and apart.  The grin on Hades face grew by the end of the night to an actually recognizable smile. 

While Emet-Selch may have took no joy in doing his duty contributing to this censure of Azem, seeing the impact she had on the star through the people truly effected by her choices was powerful testimony to bring back to the Convocation. Hades, delighted in how her face lit up with her stories, in how her laugh rang out as her friends reminded her of missing details, in the warmth of the color of her soul knowing she was surrounded by those she loved and who love her best. 

Perhaps he would find more occasions to accompany her on journeys from start to finish instead of coming only when she called. Clearly, the consequence of this censorship was beneficial for all of them. 

[afangirlsmuse]

An informational comic I illustrated for my comics 2 class about drag!