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i brought you some pics of how my fav photos of julia were made 👀 lightroom+photoshop+imagination+home photostudio (also to be underwater in clothes was kinda disgusting xD)

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Lasombra primogen

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my shadowheart inspired tattoo

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" Gods, you're beautiful. "

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Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Astarion/Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate) Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate) Additional Tags: Modern AU Summary:

Shadowheart have met a strange little boy in her childhood

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modern au

"Jenny, pick some apples, please! I'm going to make apple pie!"

“Mom, my name is Shadowheart,” the girl, dressed all in black, reminded her, but still went to fulfill her request. She wasn't even that fond of apples and apple pie, but her mood was too changeable at that age. Maybe she'll eat a piece later, doing her mother a favor; maybe she really will gobble it all up in one go with great pleasure and only make a face for show. She hasn't decided yet.

Life on a small farm was relaxed, but very monotonous: too boring. Jenny wanted something more interesting, like the mysterious rituals from horror films that her mother forbade her to watch in the evenings. But all that remained was to dream and write down interesting observations in a personal diary. Perhaps when she goes to university, everything will become much more cheerful than this dull farm life and she will leave here for a dormitory.

The apples were green and hard, just pick them and eat them now. These are just perfect for a pie: large and sour.

The girl took a basket with her to put it all in and put it under the tree. She jumped slightly to catch the branch and pulled it towards her.

"Ah-ah-ah!" someone yelled above her, because this branch served as part of his support, because of which someone not very large, but still very heavy, fell on Shadowheart from above, immediately crushing her with his weight.

"Aouch!" She lay down under the tree and rubbed her cheek next to her nose. A broken branch cut across her face and left a shallow cut, which immediately began to bleed slightly. "Get off me!"

The girl pushed the stranger off her and looked angrily in his direction. A boy appeared before her, a little shorter than her, with beautiful white curls, looking about fourteen years old, absolutely frightened either by her reaction or by the fact that he had been caught red-handed. One of the apples was clutched tightly in his hand.

"Are you stealing our apples?" She continued to frown, lifting him from the ground by his chest.

“N-no,” despite direct evidence of this, the boy continued to lie to her. He was almost half a head shorter than her and was truly afraid of Shadowheart. "You are beautiful."

He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind to defend himself - and he was right. This took the new acquaintance by surprise, and she let him go, feeling slightly embarrassed. The plan was a success. True, he himself did not yet understand whether he lied or actually found her attractive.

“Very funny,” Shadowheart took the apple from him. "Who are you and where are you from?"

"Astarion. From the Szarr estate. Please don't tell my stepfather that I was here!" according to his request, he was not very eager to receive punishment for such a thing. "I was going to leave home. I needed food with me…"

"From the Szarr estate?" Shadowheart was sincerely surprised. “But they buy everything fresh from our family. Why steal… Why leave home? It's such a luxurious estate there. Literally all of my classmates dream of living in it…"

Shadowheart hesitated.

"I heard that the owner of the house seems to have children, but I haven’t met anyone yet… Do you even go to school there or are you homeschooled?"

Astarion just sighed:

"Homeschooled. I really need to leave home…"

"Jenny, where have you gone?" her mother called, leaning out of the window of the house. Astarion tensed and hid behind a tree so that no one would see him.

"I'm coming now!" she answered her. “And I’m not Jenny,” she muttered under her breath with dissatisfaction.

"Who then?" he asked quietly from behind the tree.

"Shadowheart."

Having collected the required number of apples for herself, the girl nevertheless took pity on the new guest, who still did not leave, despite her threatening appearance, and left him several apples under the tree so that he would not have to climb up again.

After this meeting, she did not see him for a long time. Perhaps he really ran away from home. Perhaps he finally came to his senses and returned home. Every time she saw the Szarr estate from afar, she tried to guess what was happening there, if someone wanted to leave this luxurious place of their own free will. But still, Shadowheart chalked it up to a typical boyish desire to go on adventures after watching stupid cartoons. Although since then she wanted to get a little closer to the estate.

The end of July passed in such thoughts and the remaining days of the hot summer quickly flew by. Black clothes were far from the best choice for this weather, but Jenny had no intention of being like her normie parents. She grew up a little more over the summer and fell into the occult with even greater interest, hiding books of witchcraft from her mother under the bed, because for just one volume of “The Witches’ Hammer” her mother would give her a long and boring lecture.

[crypticsiren1]

modern au

"Jenny, pick some apples, please! I'm going to make apple pie!"

“Mom, my name is Shadowheart,” the girl, dressed all in black, reminded her, but still went to fulfill her request. She wasn't even that fond of apples and apple pie, but her mood was too changeable at that age. Maybe she'll eat a piece later, doing her mother a favor; maybe she really will gobble it all up in one go with great pleasure and only make a face for show. She hasn't decided yet.

Life on a small farm was relaxed, but very monotonous: too boring. Jenny wanted something more interesting, like the mysterious rituals from horror films that her mother forbade her to watch in the evenings. But all that remained was to dream and write down interesting observations in a personal diary. Perhaps when she goes to university, everything will become much more cheerful than this dull farm life and she will leave here for a dormitory.

The apples were green and hard, just pick them and eat them now. These are just perfect for a pie: large and sour.

The girl took a basket with her to put it all in and put it under the tree. She jumped slightly to catch the branch and pulled it towards her.

"Ah-ah-ah!" someone yelled above her, because this branch served as part of his support, because of which someone not very large, but still very heavy, fell on Shadowheart from above, immediately crushing her with his weight.

"Aouch!" She lay down under the tree and rubbed her cheek next to her nose. A broken branch cut across her face and left a shallow cut, which immediately began to bleed slightly. "Get off me!"

The girl pushed the stranger off her and looked angrily in his direction. A boy appeared before her, a little shorter than her, with beautiful white curls, looking about fourteen years old, absolutely frightened either by her reaction or by the fact that he had been caught red-handed. One of the apples was clutched tightly in his hand.

"Are you stealing our apples?" She continued to frown, lifting him from the ground by his chest.

“N-no,” despite direct evidence of this, the boy continued to lie to her. He was almost half a head shorter than her and was truly afraid of Shadowheart. "You are beautiful."

He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind to defend himself - and he was right. This took the new acquaintance by surprise, and she let him go, feeling slightly embarrassed. The plan was a success. True, he himself did not yet understand whether he lied or actually found her attractive.

“Very funny,” Shadowheart took the apple from him. "Who are you and where are you from?"

"Astarion. From the Szarr estate. Please don't tell my stepfather that I was here!" according to his request, he was not very eager to receive punishment for such a thing. "I was going to leave home. I needed food with me…"

"From the Szarr estate?" Shadowheart was sincerely surprised. “But they buy everything fresh from our family. Why steal… Why leave home? It's such a luxurious estate there. Literally all of my classmates dream of living in it…"

Shadowheart hesitated.

"I heard that the owner of the house seems to have children, but I haven’t met anyone yet… Do you even go to school there or are you homeschooled?"

Astarion just sighed:

"Homeschooled. I really need to leave home…"

"Jenny, where have you gone?" her mother called, leaning out of the window of the house. Astarion tensed and hid behind a tree so that no one would see him.

"I'm coming now!" she answered her. “And I’m not Jenny,” she muttered under her breath with dissatisfaction.

"Who then?" he asked quietly from behind the tree.

"Shadowheart."

Having collected the required number of apples for herself, the girl nevertheless took pity on the new guest, who still did not leave, despite her threatening appearance, and left him several apples under the tree so that he would not have to climb up again.

After this meeting, she did not see him for a long time. Perhaps he really ran away from home. Perhaps he finally came to his senses and returned home. Every time she saw the Szarr estate from afar, she tried to guess what was happening there, if someone wanted to leave this luxurious place of their own free will. But still, Shadowheart chalked it up to a typical boyish desire to go on adventures after watching stupid cartoons. Although since then she wanted to get a little closer to the estate.

The end of July passed in such thoughts and the remaining days of the hot summer quickly flew by. Black clothes were far from the best choice for this weather, but Jenny had no intention of being like her normie parents. She grew up a little more over the summer and fell into the occult with even greater interest, hiding books of witchcraft from her mother under the bed, because for just one volume of “The Witches’ Hammer” her mother would give her a long and boring lecture.

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VV by me

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Hedonism

If we forget about some of the humiliating nuances of their stay here, then overall the boudoir was quite good. They would even say that the pleasant surroundings smoothed out all these nuances and warmed their pleasure-seeking soul with a voluptuous flame.

A huge soft bed, a STUNNING VIEW from the windows of the House of Hope, which many would envy; a big space where you can walk around and fully open your wings so that they do not become numb in one position; a romantic atmosphere with lit candles and a pool always filled with clean water, where you can plunge headlong and smoke a hookah without going far from the water treatments.

PERFECT.

While the owner of the house again walked somewhere in the outside world and carefully persuaded souls to enter into contracts, Haarlep were left to their own existance. Neither Raphael, nor Mephistopheles - but only them alone with themselves and their thoughts. It would be even better if none of them were in their life, but they had what they had - to their great regret.

And since they were in such an interesting position, caught between a big scary devil and a smaller devil with daddy issues and a love of magical trinkets and paperwork, they had to make the most of it they could afford.

Haarlep slightly spread their wings and assumed a vertical position. They had just woken up and really did not want to leave this amazing bed, the fabrics of which were so pleasant to the skin that they seemed to hear the blanket and pillow screaming and begging them to return to the embrace of deep sleep and not leave them alone.

“No, we’re scared, stay…” the incubus squeaked playfully, then continuing this game to amuse themselves: “Oh, sorry, but we’ll be back soon. Just wait for us."

They now needed something to occupy themselves and have fun. There was no desire to contemplate numerous pictures with their and not their faces at the same time, but to start a morning with… Is it morning? With Haarlep's love to lie in bed until victory, one could doubt that it was morning.

The incubus decided to start their “morning” straight with a fragrant hookah by the water. Who will stop them, after all? If they had been told that such early smoking was harmful to health, Haarlep would have charmingly laughed in their faces and simply handed them a cigarette holder, inviting them to join.

“It may be harmful, but we cannot resist. You should always please yourself,” they clicked their tongue and walked straight to the pool with a leisurely gait.

This is their self-care day. Just like yesterday. Just like tomorrow. Just like as always. All that remains is to apply face cream to maintain smooth skin. They need to ask Raphael to bring them a new bottle from the human world. Or use another cream, which is legendary in the world of incubi and succubi, so as not to feel humiliated by the process and at least somehow turn it in your favor. Haarlep shuddered slightly. Perhaps they will still remain with the first option.

The hissing of tobacco from the hot coals pleasantly caressed the ear, and the fruity, sweet smell gradually filled the room. Haarlep lazily settled on the pillows, dangling one of their legs in the water, and took a deep breath of smoke. Tasty. A wonderful combination of sweetness and light sourness. It seems that during all this time they tried all the varieties of tobacco that were available; Even the strongest tobacco no longer had any effect on them.

It got boring.

Haarlep hated boredom. Maybe it was worth reading the manuscripts of dear Master again? After all, it wasn't like he was hiding it from them.

“Late-e-er,” they muttered under their breath, prolonging the hookah pleasure. They threw off the usual leather belts from their body and sank into the pool. It got a lot better that way. More relaxed.

There was still a glimmer of hope in their soul that today would be at least a little different from the rest. In the meantime, they will just smoke alone.

Sometimes happiness can be found in such little things.

[crypticsiren1]

YES

Hazbin Hotel in Avernus

Hear me out:

Hazbin Hotel, but in Avernus!

[crypticsiren1]

The Lady of Loss always guided her on the true path and forced Shadowheart to rethink her actions. Apologizing for her inappropriate behavior, the Cleric often devoted part of the evening at camp to heartfelt prayers in honor of the Dark Goddess.

But at some moments she simply did not understand why the wound on her arm suddenly began to hurt terribly.

The purple glow was like sharp blades piercing right through her palm; as if her hand was nailed to the surface with a huge nail and the wound was immediately cauterized with alcohol, or even worse, with fire. And this happened over and over again. It felt like a painful flash that gradually faded away; like the heat from the ashes of smoldering coals in a fire.

Brief attacks of pain appeared at those moments when Shadowheart least expected them.

She learned to live with it. After all, no matter how much she wanted, the wound never healed.

A curse? No. Goddess Shar could not do this to her. In this way, she only wanted to show her daughter of darkness her perverted love, otherwise the outside world would try to poison her consciousness.

The next evening Sharran sat in her tent and prayed. She closed her eyes, concentrating on her own thoughts. If the Cleric could, she would punish herself so as not to bother the goddess, and she, in turn, would see the sincerity of her intentions.

Her faith in darkness has never been questioned by Shadowheart herself. Only the wound on her hand still ached periodically: sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker. But it didn't make it any easier. The wound could hurt at a completely random moment - as if she was being punished simply for breathing.

“What did I do wrong this time?” — the Sharran thought to herself.

Scrolling over and over again the events of the past days, she recalled the dogmas of the Dark Goddess. The fists, which had previously rested peacefully on her knees, clenched so tightly that a little more and her own nails would have complemented the Sharite wound.

She realized that she was mistaken and took the wrong step.

“Stupid,” Shadowheart mentally hissed at herself. The cleric had already violated at least several tenets of her faith throughout their journey. For something like this, their own clergy will simply destroy her. But even this death in the name of Shar will be pleasant. She will be ready to die for her if Shar believes that this is now Shadowheart's fate. But she still has a chance to prove herself and gain the favor of the Mistress of the Night.

Perhaps the Goddess will be less angry when she learns that they are heading into the Shadowblighted Lands and straight to the Last Light tavern. Today, as a gift to the Lady, she will bring the still warm heart of the Priestess of Selune.

“Darkness is the time to act, not to wait. Suppress the light of the moon whenever you find it.”

The dark lady will be pleased.

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fem tremere from bloodlines cosplay by me

i post it again

because i want

because i like it

fun fact: dots on my t-shirt are literally hundreds of my own fingerprints <3

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just Shadowheart and Scratch's play text asmr

The feeling of a fluffy white cloud in your hands. Soft fur that slides between your fingers. Big wet nose. Rough protruding tongue. A long tail that swings from side to side in a playful manner. Large, neat ears that evoke a silent squeak of affection.

The smell of grass and dust. A charming creature lying on its back, offering its belly for scratching. Impossibility to resist it.

"Who's a good boy?"

A satisfied bark in response. Standing ready to catch the ball and bring it back. Play. Play. Play. Impatient jumping from side to side.

A smile on your face. Swing your hand back and throw the ball towards the bushes. A quiet howl of pleasure and a lightning-fast jump. The ball quickly returns to the palm.

The desire to bury yourself in this white fur and never let such a charming dog go from you: to endlessly sit in the tent and just stroke him.

Showing weakness? Piercing pain in the arm. Closed eyes and clenched teeth. It’s easier to bite your own tongue in order to somehow distract yourself from the pain. Why now?

The intelligent look of a dog, carefully examining it as if the animal understands everything. The pain gradually goes away, leaving a taste of nausea in the mouth.

The fluffy top of the head, pushing into the palm as if in an attempt to pity the priestess from such a “parting word” from the Mistress of the Night.

A new portion of stroking the fur, which has become a little dustier from a light run after the ball. An outstretched, open palm towards the dog and a paw received in response with massive claws, but charming pads on its lower part.

“You’re a good boy,” hears Scratch in his direction.

Lightness at heart. Take a deep breath and exhale slowly. Peace.

[crypticsiren1]

Above the camp stretched an endless dark sky, dotted with small white points. The fire quietly crackled with dying branches, which made the Cleric flinch from time to time from the sounds. After last night, it was still worth putting a collar with a bell on the pale elf, just for not to worry about future bites from the vampire spawn.

Only it wasn’t just him and the potential loss of blood. Each of her new acquaintances was full of interest and possible danger. In their own way. She had to be careful with them and, if something happens, protect the artifact at the cost of her life.

But Shadowheart tried to focus a little on other thoughts: she was haunted by dreams of a little girl being led into the unknown by strangers. Scraps of these dreams could not form a single complete picture in her head. Was it a play of imagination or events that actually happened a long time ago? She did not know. She didn't remember. It's as if all her memory has been gutted, and now something from outside is trying to manipulate her and her faith in Shar. This is definitely the work of a damned parasite. But she shouldn't give up. To give - means to show weakness.

"I am loyal only to my Lady Shar."

Despite the occasional pain in her arm, Shadowheart still felt the favor of the Mistress of the Night; She firmly convinced herself that this was her parting words, and not punishment for wrongdoing. The Goddess Shar hears her pleases and she will not allow her Daughter of Darkness to follow the path of heretics.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. The makeshift pillow from her travel bag that night pressed unpleasantly on the back of her head and caused discomfort. Having thrown away all heavy thoughts, the Cleric opened her eyes and looked at the sky. Absolutely nothing has changed. There is still a lot of time until dawn.

Today's resting place was not one of the best of their entire trip. But on the other hand, it is not the worst. After the Illithid ship, any secluded corner of the forest will seem the holiest and dearest in the world.

Gale was on watch this night. But even because of insomnia, Shadowheart will not distract him with empty talk just to pass the time. It's better to try to sleep and gain strength.

They still have a long journey ahead: she must deliver a mysterious artifact to the Mother Superior. And she will fulfill her duty to the goddess Shar: to become a Dark Justicar is her secret dream, for which she is ready to do anything. For her loyalty to Shar, she earned this honorary title.

And her memory… Her memory will return as soon as the Cleric completes her mission.

[crypticsiren1]

Hatsune Miku/Snow Miku 2022 by me

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