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nocturniashifter · 2 months

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𝓦hat late night thoughts does your s/o have about you? | +18 pick a pile

Hello my loves! Welcome to another PAP. Since the +18 theme won in the last vote on which reading should be posted first, here it is lol. I really hope you like it and that it resonates with you. ♡

┈─★ Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only and shouldn't be taken seriously or used as a substitute for medical and professional advice. It's also a general reading, so it may or may not resonate with you.

┈─★ How to choose: Close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose the image that catches your attention the most – trust your intuition.

MASTERLIST | PAID READINGS

── .✦ PILE 1

Shufflemancy: Hypnotic - Vanic, Alone With You - Ashlee, Soul 4 Sale - Simon Curtis, Daddy AF - slayyter, Sex Teraphy - Robin Thicke, Yummy - Chelo, Earned It - The Weeknd, Closer - Asking Alexandria, Virgin Ring - Zeromancer, They Wanna Fuck - Kim Petras.

Without a doubt you have left your s/o mesmerized by you and they think you are a magnetic person. In the eyes of your s/o, you are the only and the hottest person they have ever met in their life, so you constantly occupy their mind and when it comes to spicy thoughts, it couldn't be any different. When we talk about the late night thoughts they have of you, they always imagine themselves loving you madly in bed like no one has ever loved you before – and they imagine doing it so well that you would never be the same person after that fuck. In all of their late-night fantasies, they imagine themselves being the most dominant one and they enjoy the feeling powerful and superior when they are in that role. Many of the s/os in this pile have a kink about being called mommy/daddy so there's always that element to their fantasy. They always imagine that just their touch or every movement they make makes you lose control completely and all you can do is moan and beg for them not to stop – and to them the sounds of your moans are like sweet music to their ears. At the same time as they imagine completely destroying you in bed to the point where you can't even walk, they also want to love you gently. Regardless of what mood you are in while in bed with each other, they imagine themselves taking their time with you and giving their best so that you can feel all the pleasure you deserve. They imagine giving you everything you want because in those moments they really give themselves completely and also fuck you all night long. Regardless of what your genitals are, your partner imagines licking you until you cum and all you can do is just moan with pleasure.

Your s/os also imagine having sex with you as a way to relieve the stress you may feel or as a form of relaxation when you are feeling exhausted/overwhelmed. They also imagine you letting your naughty side out in bed and losing your inhibitions if you have them, because they want to explore a lot of things with you and they really just want to love your body. If you are still virgins in your desired reality or just have fears and insecurities when it comes to sex, you can rest assured that you are safe with your s/os and they will assure you of this and that you are always comfortable. They want to fulfill all your fantasies and they will be as rough or as soft as you want, just communicate what you want to them because the last thing they want is to make you uncomfortable or go over your boundaries. One of the things they would like to try with you is roleplay – for example, where they play a role where they are a doctor and you are their patient or even where they are a vampire, they really let the creativity flow lol. You are really very hot in their eyes and sometimes they get so horny that they just want to push you against the wall and fuck you right there. One of the physical features they like most about you is your ass and they like the way it moves when you're fucking – and if you haven't had sex yet, they wonder what it would be like ;).

Additionally, they enjoy BDSM and like to imagine what it would be like to tie you up with ropes or chains, use a blindfold, whips, etc. Regardless if you've already had sex with your s/o or not, they REALLY want to fuck you and destroy you completely so good luck lol. If you have any insecurity about your body even if it is in your desired reality, they want to worship your body and show you how perfect you are for them.

── .✦ PILE 2

Shufflemancy: For Your Entertainment - Adam Lambert, Drip - Brooke Candy, I Sit On Acid - Lords Of Acid, Please Me - Cardi Bi, Nobody - Keith Sweat, Sex Music - Tank, Yummy - Chelo, Grind With Me - Pretty Ricky, Ride - SoMo.

The late night thoughts of this pile's s/os are really hot! In their eyes, you are very hot and sexy. In their fantasies, they are always hurting you and turning all that pain into pleasure – be it spanking your ass, pulling your hair, using a whip on you, etc. – and they want to take you to the limit. Just like in pile one, they always imagine themselves as the dominant one in the situation and with you following every order they give you. They would like to tie you up with a rope or chain but mainly to make you hold back your orgasm until you can't take it anymore and only after a while of a lot of teasing they would finally let you cum - the teasing would mainly be verbal, as they like to degrade you with words and would say things like “can you handle what I’m about to do to you?”. They want to make you so ecstatic that the only thing you can do is moan with pleasure. They really want to get hard on you so if you like this GOOD LUCK just like pile 1 lol.

Regardless of what your genitals are, they are completely crazy about it and if they could, they would enjoy it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, etc. lol – in fact, one of the fantasies they have about you is where you sit on their face. Even though in most of their fantasies, they are the most dominant, deep down they want you to take control and dominate them the same way they dominate you – and normally that wouldn't happen to anyone else so you are privileged lol. When they fantasize about this scenario, they imagine you making them moan, teasing them with your body and making them beg for more, them getting down on their knees and obeying every order you give like the good boy/girl that they are. Just like in pile 1, one of the physical features they like most about you is your ass and they think it's so round and soft, perfect for them to spank and fuck you lmao and they also like your breasts or your pecs. Regardless of your gender, they love it when you ride them – and if you haven't had sex with your s/o yet, they still like to imagine what it would be like.

They really love you and need you and want to show it through sex. They want to please you and want you both to enjoy the moment. But at the same time they want to tease and break you. One of the things they like to imagine is putting cream on your body and licking it. They want to be unforgettable sexual partners for you, so much so that you won't be able to compare their sex to previous partners you had or other partners you would have – if you and your s/o aren't together as a couple yet. They want to fuck you so bad until your bodies collapse and weaken and all you can do is just lie in bed sighing.

── .✦ PILE 3

Shufflemancy: Sex Machina - bludnymph, Pit of Vipers - Simon Curtis, Sexercize - Kylie Minogue, Pornstar - August Alsina, Please Me - Cardi Bi, Candy - slayyter, Final Girl - Graveyardguy, Anywhere - 112 Rebirth TV, Dominatrix - Leather Strip, Chromebitch - Zeromancer.

Honestly, in the late-night thoughts your s/o has about you, you're basically a porn star. Your s/o thinks you're so hot that just seeing you walk, bend down to pick something up or just seeing the way your body moves with your every movement makes them crazy to rip off your clothes lol. One of the things your s/o think about you late at night is them sticking more than one finger inside you and you going down on them because they think your mouth can take them to paradise – if your s/o have a dick, they like the sight of you choking on their dick. They like to try different positions and one of the ones they imagine most when it comes to you is 69. If this applies to your desired reality, they imagine having sex via video call with you or making a sex tape with you. They also fantasize a lot about anal sex and putting a plug in you. Regardless of your gender, if you are someone who wears heels in your desired reality, trust me when I tell you that your s/o likes to imagine what it would be like to fuck you while you are wearing your heels, especially if they are red. They also fantasize about public sex and may want to do it in a gym, in a car, at a party, etc. They want you to submit completely to them, they want to use you and just like in other piles they want to incorporate elements of BDSM into your sex – especially tying you up with ropes or chains, whipping you and in some cases, even putting a collar on you. Some of the s/os in this pile just like to be the most dominant because they don't like feeling like things in their life are out of control, so one way to compensate for this is to take on the role of dom in bed. Some s/os in this pile fantasize about watching you masturbate and others fantasize about watching you get fucked by someone else in front of them.

For those who are still virgins in their desired realities and/or who have not yet had their first time with their s/o, they want to be like your teacher and teach you everything they can in the most pleasurable way possible. For those who have a s/o with a dick, they also like to see you jump on their dick and regardless of your gender, they really like it when you ride them and they like to see the way your body moves in these hours. Seriously, when you ride them, they are speechless and all they can do is moan – they think you are a pro at this. At the same time that your s/o is an impatient person when it comes to sex – when I say this I'm referring to the fact that, when they get horny, they already wants to take off your clothes – they want to make you wait just to tease you and also because they want to let things flow between you so that you can both enjoy the moment.

Just like in pile 2, the s/os in this pile also secretly like to fantasize about being dominated by you and that you are taking control in bed – in their fantasies, you might even be wearing those sexy leather outfits, especially if If you are female, in this case it is that cliché dominatrix outfit. But in general, when they imagine this scenario they see themselves on their knees, obeying your every command, moaning and begging for you as you degrade them. And, just like in pile 2, they don't want to admit it out loud because of their ego, but if you insist they will give in. Plus, they really like going down on you and think you taste sweet. Kind of off topic but many of these s/os are obsessed with you and in some cases this can be too much and not in a healthy way. But, continuing: just like in pile 1, your s/o also wants to try roleplay with you and they also like to play but their fantasies are darker – for example, they might want to play a role where they are the hunter and you are the prey that is running away from them. Some of the s/os in this pile have knife kink too. Although they have this darker side when it comes to sex, they also want to make love to you – that softer kind of sex, with kisses and cuddles – and they want to fulfill all your fantasies and kinks in bed. They also like to have sex in different places, be it in bed, under the shower, in the car, on the balcony, in the kitchen – just choose. Usually, when they think about you late at night, they think of all the ways they can make you scream.

That was it, guys! I sincerely hope that you liked it and that it was accurate for you. I won't post +18 PAPs for a while because I'll soon have a specific deck for readings like this, so if you already like my readings with just Shufflemancy, wait until my deck arrives 👀. Until next time PAP! ♡

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ineadhyn · 9 months

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One of Astarion's most interesting scenes to me is the one in the flop house where we meet Dalyria and Petras. So, obviously, I felt the need to analyze it.

Astarion's behaviour switches the very moment he recognises his siblings. He has been snappy and theatrical before, but this now feels different. More raw. His posture changes, he bends forward in a pose like he's ready to attack. The moment he sees them, he enters fight mode.

And indeed, he does attack. He immediately goes for Petras, aiming for the weak spots he knows, his intelligence. It's bite or be bitten. If he doesn't do it (a choice you can make in his origin run for example) Petras does just the same, insulting Astarion using his known flaws: his arrogance, his egoism, claiming Astarion is all talk. This tells so much about Astarions life with them.

Dalyria is a bit calmer, she seems to care about both of them, at least enough that she doesn't want to see either of them killed. Dalyria does believe Cazador's claim of freeing them at least on surface level. She can be convinced to trust Astarion when he says he'll free them. She wants to be free. Asking why Astarion would come back if he was free, there is a certain longing in her voice. She's also the one telling Astarion about the ritual place, hoping Astarion might actually be able to free them, or at least not kill Petras.

Still the aggression in the room is not only between Astarion and Petras. Astarion also snaps at Dalyria when she's barely said anything. "That's not a way to welcome back a brother, Dal." The three of them are like dogs in the kennels of a dog fighting ring, barking at the sight of each other. Trained to compete and not giving each other an inch. You can imagine what it must have been like sharing one bedroom.

Then Astarion does his theatrical "Didn't you miss me?" Did they? Probably as much as Astarion pities them. A bit, because they've known each other for so long, but not enough to go out of their way. Just after saying he pities them, Astarion dreams about completing the ritual (which includes sacrificing them). Mostly I see the "Didn't you miss me" as Astarion wanting to make a confident first impression on them. Although it's too late, because his first instinct was to pull up his usual defences when interacting with his siblings: snapping at them.

And then Astarion actually gets physically aggressive and burns Petras. This is new. Petras didn't expect this. He says "What the hells happened to you, Astarion?" In combination with the other spawn scene when they call Astarion the runt, that never put up a fight, this paints a clear picture: Astarion has never been physically aggressive during his time with Cazador. Probably because he didn't have the means. He was simply too weak, being tortured more than any of the others. Petras talks about eating rats and dogs, Astarion got rats and bugs (he says that when talking about the bite with Tav). Also of course being broken into submission by being sealed into the tomb for the one time he didn't obey. (Worthy to mention that even then Astarion did not fight, he ran.)

Now that Astarion has some power for the first time, he uses it. And holy damn can I understand why he wants more. How good it must feel to be able to defend himself with more than words for the first time. This bit of power makes him say "I am not afraid of anything anymore."

It's enough for him to say "I am going to stop Cazador." A thing none of the spawn expects of him. Astarion would never rebel against the master. Cazador himself doesn't believe it until his last moment. They were all wrong about Astarion. Cazador indeed never broke him.

Also, pay attention to the leaning forward pose. Astarion does that on multiple occasions. It's his "my instinct screams to fight and defend myself"-pose.

(I am not entirely sure if "do not slouch before me" is also referring the same pose, or if it's more of an instinct to bow or cower. But that's for another day.)

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion analysis #cazador #dalyria #pale petras

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sabersandsnipers · 10 months

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A Trap Lies Ahead

Request:

How would romanced Astarion react to Tav (probably a bard Tav) offering to use themself as bait to lure out one of Astarion's sibling vampire spawn? Like, instead of just running into Dal and Petras, Tav preforms at where Astarion says are frequent haunts of his siblings, with Tav basically making themself seem like an easy target. Just an idea for a scenario.

You stare at your reflection in the standing mirror. Astarion flits around you, a tape measure hanging around his neck. His actions are precise and practiced, and you notice the focus in his gaze.

His confidence does nothing to cure your nerves, though. After brainstorming for hours on how to lure one of his fellow spawn in for questioning, you didn’t think offering yourself as bait would be something to consider. You were even more surprised that Astarion even agreed it. But he’s determined to corner another vampire and get answers.

Astarion lines the tape up with one of your arms, and you shiver as his fingertips brush against your skin. His gaze meets yours briefly. He studies you for a moment, and you hope he doesn’t notice the fear crawling within you.

But centuries of studying people has made him an expert at reading expressions. He lets his touch linger on your skin a moment longer, a small gesture of comfort. You know he senses the worry in you.

A few minutes later he pauses in front of you. You glance down at him from the pedestal he put you on.

“I have all the measurements I need,” he tells you. He plays with the measuring tape in his hands. “I’ll get to work on the dress.”

His eyes flit around nervously, and he’s unable to meet your gaze. Your hands have started shaking at the thought of baring yourself to the danger ahead, and you know anxiety has started to grip him as well. You tilt his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

“We’ll get through this,” you say, as much to yourself as to him.

He sighs, but his stance remains tense. He steps forward a bit and buries his face in your chest, inhaling your scent. You lace your fingers in his curls and press a kiss to top of his head.

“I’m sorry I’m putting you through this,” he says. Your heart clenches at the hurt in his voice. This is as much torture for him as it is for you.

You cradle his face in your hands, stroking your thumb along his cheekbone. His eyelids flutter closed at the sensation.

“I trust you, Astarion. And we have to do something. We can’t just wait for them to come to us,” you tell him, hoping your words will ease some of his guilt.

He grabs your hand and places a kiss on your palm. His eyes meet yours, a new determination settling within them.

“I will be close by, love,” he says. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

A smile pulls at your lips, and your body warms at his protectiveness. “I know. I just worry you might do your job too well with how that dress is gonna look,” you joke.

He lets out a breathy laugh. “I will admit you’re going to have to look irresistible, but you don’t even need a dress to do that in my opinion.”

Your cheeks flush with heat. “As long as you’re the only one that gets to touch me by the time the night’s over.”

His hands grip your hips and lift you up to place you before him. His gaze now looks down on you, but the way he looks at you doesn’t make you feel smaller.

“If they lay a hand on you, they will know a different fear by the time I’m done with them.” His words are hard but his expression is soft. You can’t help the shiver of excitement that runs through you at his promise.

His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling your forehead against his. You let out a breath at his proximity, savoring the way his thumb strokes the sensitive skin on your neck. The stress that had gripped you so tightly before has vanished with Astarion’s words.

And you can’t help but feel sorry for any enemy that has the guts to touch Astarion’s mate.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion imagine #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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violentvaleska · 1 year

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𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆

ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʏᴀɴ!ʟᴇᴠɪ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʟ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀᴛ ғɪʀsᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀs ʜɪs ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ sᴜʙᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴅᴇsɪʀᴀʙʟᴇ ғᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ-ɪɴᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ-ᴅʏɴᴀᴍɪᴄs, sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴsɪᴏɴ, ᴍɪsᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴀʙᴜsɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, sᴍᴜᴛ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴅᴜʙᴄᴏɴ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʙᴀʙʏ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ

Levi doesn't really know what has drawn him to you. Perhaps your eagerness to please or your fearful and awe driven gaze directed him. Maybe it was your cute smile or the elegant way you held yourself. It certainly wasn't the fact that you were born in the safety of Mitras and your weak excuse of combat wasn't it either. While you appear to be smart and talented with the ODM gear, you certainly wouldn't do fighting titans. It's that simple. Your purpose as a soldier would probably be death, giving your life for humanity. Levi hates that fact; he despises the idea of you dying. You were subordinated to him after you joined the Survey Corps a year ago and if it wasn't for him, you would have been eaten and ripped apart on more occasions than he would like to admit.

He expected you to be just that, a rich brat. Probably narcissistic and an egomaniac, having only your own desires in best interest. Most likely arrogant and always bragging about your accomplishments, like Oluo. To his surprise you were nothing like that. Your star struck eyes would always look up to him, a mixture of hope and awe in them. You would follow his every comment, much like Petra, but unlike her you were still in need of extra training.

The Captain always held you close. He would make you stay longer in training, so you could get better and stronger. After he would tell you to shower and meet him in his office to help him with paperwork, something that definitely wasn't in your range of duty. He abused his power over you, using your eagerness to help for his own advantage. Levi thrived, still does, in your attention and obedient behavior. He quite often thinks about you, wondering why a brat of Mitras would join the military. You had no reason to; a rich family, fulfilled life. And while he doesn't enjoy the thought of you with another man, you would have probably married someone of your class and bore him children. These thoughts made him realize that it might be the reason why you left. You did not want to be treated like a baby machine, did not want to marry a stranger twice your age. The Scouts made you free, or so you thought. Truth is you'd never be free, not as long as your Captain was around. It made him wonder what your life was like in Mitras. You were a late bloomer; joined when you turned eighteen, he knew that much. You probably waited to legally decide your fate on your own, without having to worry about your parents intervening. He remembers that day he looked over all of the reports of his new Cadets. You caught his interest.

"Fucking Mitras brat." He spat.

And then Eren came around. Levi was aware of his importance and upcoming changes that would occur with the moment he stepped foot into the Corps. Levi sat in Erwin's office drinking tea while he rolled his eyes at Hange’s rambling, their loud voice caused him a headache.

"We need you to pick a new squad, Levi. Your Cadets will be handed over to Miche, so you have time to prepare your soldiers for the special operation. " Erwin explained and gave them a meaningful glance. He felt sour at the thought, but eventually decided to dare his luck a little.

"Sure. Am I allowed to hand-pick my new squad?" The blonde, tall man rolled his eyes, giving him a cold facade.

"Yes. I trust you on your decisions. Do you have anyone specific in mind?" In his head, Levi screamed your name in desperation.

"Eld is a fine soldier. Petra Ral and Oluo Bozado would be suited too." He halted, glaring at him as he waited for Erwin to agree. He did so gladly.

"There is someone else." Levi noted and cleared his throat. The Commander gave him a sad look, feeling regret twirling in his gut.

"You want to drag her into this?" Erwin wondered, hoping to motivate his friend to change his mind.

"You said you would trust my decisions." Erwin stopped arguing and Levi knew he had Smith wrapped around his finger. He would give him almost anything if it meant that the Captain was happy. Confused Hange scratched their head. "Who are you talking about?" They asked directed at Erwin, they didn't expect an answer from Levi anyways.

"A Cadet from Levi's current squad." It didn't take more to form Hange’s lips into an 'O' shape as awkward silence hit them. Rumors had already spread in the upper ranks of the squad about Levi being madly in love with his subordinate. The Captain would never dare to call it love though. No, he just gets off on the idea of having control over the Mitras brat.

"Why did you choose me?" You asked him when the two of you cleaned the hall of your new headquarters, an abandoned castle. It's dirty and if there was something Levi hated more than stains on his clothes it certainly was an unclean environment.

"Are you questioning my decisions brat?" He felt good, turning the words in your mouth so you would feel sorry.

"I would never dare to, Captain!" You raised your voice in fear, looking at him with hurt.

"It's just-" You started shuddering at his cold stare, knowing you had to choose your next words wisely.

"There are so many others who are better than me." He nodded his head and agreed with you, your polite smile falling. He felt almost bad, but the thin line of feeling bad and boiling lust was conflicted within him.

"But I have my reasons. You have other useful qualities." He encouraged her.

"Like what?" Levi sighted and gritted his teeth, fletching them at her.

"Oi, shut up now. The floors don't clean themselves." Shrinking under him you held your breath and whispered a small 'sorry Sir' continuing your cleaning duties.

You didn't have dinner tonight, not enough time to eat. You relaxed in the showers and thought about your mistakes for too long. You shouldn't have lost your temper, shouldn't have raised your voice, after all Captain Levi is your superior, you don't know what has gotten into you. Petra tried to offer you comfort. "He's just stressed." She assured you, as she held your crying body in her arms. "I'm sure he only wants to talk things out with you! You mean a lot to him, I can tell." Her words were smoothing and the two of you made their way into the showers, relaxing under the warm stream of water.

In his mind the two of you got closer over the past three weeks you were at the castle. With every passing day he got more and more desperate, bombing you with training. Learning about the true purpose of the 57th expedition, he had to make sure that you were safe. The hard work made you feel exhausted and after you had to repeat the same exercise for what felt like the hundredth time you simply snapped.

"I can't do this anymore!" You screamed, while you lost your calm demeanor. Throwing a tantrum around Levi, criticizing him at the same time, wasn't the best idea, you'll admit. The Captain angrily shut you up and squeezed your arm under his tight grip. He felt pissed, angry way beyond your pathetic imagination.

"If you don't get better you will die. I can’t always be there to save your sorry ass Cadet." He was aggressive and shook your body.

"Then don't! I'm a soldier, it would be an honor to die for your cause." It was the first time he had violently touched you; the back of his hand smacking against your skin. His squad held their breaths in shock and didn't know how to react to his outburst. It wasn't unusual for Levi to get physical with people that misbehaved, but with you it was something else. Never did he lay his hands on you, except in training of course. You were quiet, other than the quiet whimpers that left your lips. It urged him to do worse.

"Are you dense? You stupid brat don't even know what it means to die in honor. You should have stayed in Mitras with that attitude. I'm in no need of suicidal soldiers." You started crying at this point, shaking under his hands. He felt adrenaline shot into his abdomen, a nice tingle made his member slightly twitch at the sight of you.

"Then why did you choose me?" He was close to hitting you again, his hand bawling into a fist; knuckles shining white.

"Meet me in an hour in my office. Clean yourself up, you smell." With that he let you go and walked past his squat, eyebrows furrowing as Petra ran to your side, offering comfort. You didn't deserve that; he thought and shook his head in anger. The two of you were too soft.

After that you dressed in your fresh formal-uniform and brushed your wet hair behind your ears, trying to appear as neat and dolled up as always, a habit that stuck with you ever since you were a little girl. Your parents made sure that your appearance would match your status as a wealthy Mitras girl. You hated it there, felt trapped and lonely. Some things that were taught to you stayed with you though, like taking good care of your body, always keeping your stuff clean or being polite. Of course, you learned to obey others, especially men, too. They prepared you to be a good wife. It scared you, made you feel sick; the thought of marrying a stranger gave you anxiety. It's why you decided to leave and enlisted in the Training Corps, making your parents disappointed. You felt guilty, as much as you do now. You displeased your Captain, the one you looked up to, the one that makes you eager to submit. You would do anything and perhaps, tonight you will.

Those thoughts cross your mind as you stand in front of his office and private quarters. The upper ranks really have nice privileges. Your heart pounds against your chest, as you softly knock on the wood. Footsteps emerge as you fitch with the hem of your dress shirt. The door creaks open, revealing your Captain to you. He takes a step to the side, offering you access to his office with a spread arm. You don't look at him when you enter, head hanging low, and eyes fixed on the ground. Your punishment might be a severe one, probably physical discipline. He did punish you twice, made you run around the headquarters for three hours or leave out all the meals once. But this time is going to be much worse, and you know it's the way he looks at you that makes you question his sanity. You should feel ashamed of that.

"You know Cadet, I could tell that you were on edge as of lately." He starts and takes a seat, making you stand opposite of his desk.

"And I get it, we all are." He places his slender hands on the wooden surface, the same hands that caused you pain an hour ago.

"But raising your voice against your Captain? Arguing with him, with me-“ he scoffs leaning forward.

"Now that's disrespectful on a new level. What happened? Did I finally break my favorite toy?" Levi mocks, a sinister expression on his usual stoic face. The last sentence got to you, eyes widening, a little displeased groan escapes you, eyebrows furrowing at the insult. Though, instead of sharing your discomfort with him, you simply answer: "Sorry Captain. It won't happen again." At that he rolls his eyes, shaking his head disappointed.

"That did not answer my question. Did I break you yet, Cadet?" You wonder if the thought of emotionally dragging you down would please him. It would make sense, he always did show sadistic tendencies around you, bombing you with dehumanizing duties. You agreed to do them with a smile, hoping it would please him and it did. Now you wonder if it just egged him on to be much harsher with you.

"I was close." You confess and fold your hands in your front, blankly returning his gaze.

"Good. I hope you know why I'm pushing you harder than the others." His tongue slightly brushes over his dry lips, as he locks his steel-colored eyes on your form. You take a moment to think and hesitantly speak up after a few seconds.

"I believe it's because I'm not as good as the others." A small smile spreads over his lips as he stands up again. You never saw him smile; it slightly starts to weird you out.

"Correct. You would die out there, I can't have that." Levi walks up to you in a slow pace, his relaxed state dominating the room. You swallow, taking a step back as he closes in.

"Captain? May I ask why you can't have me dying?" A sight leaves him, as he places a hard on your shoulder, stopping you from moving.

"Aren't you a nosey girl?" Your Captain states and places his other hand on your other shoulder as well. A bit of panic rises in your gut at the touch. The Captain was never one to show affection and this strange touch simply can't mean anything good.

"Why did you order me here?" The question lingers in the air like a heavy prayer, making Levi's hands grip your delicate shoulders tighter.

"Tch. Want me to show you?" He's seconds away from doing something stupid and both of you know it.

"Yes, please." You murmur and break the contact of your stare, allowing him full authority. With excitement his hands glide from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer. He leans to the level of your ear, warm breath and the sudden closeness making you stiffen.

"What I'm going to show you is either a reward-" you feel his hands softly roam your curves, making you start shaking at the feeling it provides you. Not sure if it is desperation or despair, you let quiet whines out, encouraging him to grip your bum.

"-or a punishment." You yelp as the same hand that caressed you moments ago gave your behind a harsh slap. Biting down onto your lip, you try to push him away from you to no use. He doesn't even buckle under your weak attempts.

"It's going to be up to you, silly Cadet." He whispers and slowly starts to move his head down your neck, placing tingling kisses at your vulnerable areas. Denying that his hands and lips feel pleasurable on your body would be a lie. It feels good, adrenaline rises in your gut as you think about how wrong this is. Superior ranks to yours shouldn't use you the way he does, after all you could report him for his inappropriate behaviors. Though it probably won't be to any good use, because Commander Erwin closed his eyes to the strange relationship of yours months ago. You know that most of the upper ranks suspect something between the two of you and yet nobody came to your help so far, because they don't want to anger Captain Levi.

At some point you are a mess; cheeks flushed, heart beating rapidly, and your flesh is painted in bite marks. His hands hold you up and keep you from falling into his erratic body.

"Captain-" you wince and grip him weakly against your heated form, allowing even more contact between the two of you.

"Hm?" He hums and lets his hand wander between your legs, making your posture stiffen.

"This is wrong Captain, please-" you finish your sentence with a moan as his fingers dance circles around your clit, a wonderful sensation erecting in your abdomen.

"Shut up, it is not." He insists and slowly takes a few steps forward, making you stumble back at the unexpected movement. The both of you crash against his table and with a swift motion it's empty, papers and pens landing on the floor. He quickly makes use of your shocked self and pushes you down onto it, hour back connecting with the hardwood. A sound of pain rings through the room and it takes you a while to register what's happening. Levi presses your body down with his, his heavy breathing catches your attention and the next thing you notice is something hard against your thigh. At first you thought it was his hip bone, but after he starts rubbing it against you realization hits you. Feeling yourself blushing furiously, heat spreads through your stomach like a wildfire. You try to push him away, brushing his hand from you, which only causes him to grind harder against you.

"No," you whine as he bites your earlobe. "Levi stop!" Your voice sounds muffled, a few tears run down your hot cheeks. He stills for a moment before resuming. Your hips arch upwards, pushing into his hardened length. He groans, mouth wide open while his eyes are squeezed shut. Moving his head from your shoulder to rest his face right below your ear, he whispers:

"You are to call me Captain, Cadet." His breath is warm against your neck, the rough sound of his deep voice sends shivers down your spine, and you let out a whimper that sounds like a plea. He smirks slightly, enclosing his hand around your throat.

"And I'm calling you mine." He decides and opens your dress shirt, exposing your bodice and skin underneath. In a matter of a minute, you wrinkle completely naked underneath him; plank panic written on your face. He on the other hand is completely dressed, only making the effort to loosen the first two buttons of his shirt. His cravat is placed in your mouth to make you shut up and he observes you with dark eyes, while he pushes his sleeves up to his elbows.

"You look so beautiful." He whispers and brushes over your cheek, wetting his thumb with your salty tears. His pupils are blown as he slowly fitches with his pants, pulling out his member to the cool air.

"Please-" you cry out, not sure if you want him to continue or to stop. He looks good that way; black hair falling into his pale face and his posture hovering over your vulnerable form.

"No, I deserve you this way." He breathes out and leans down.

"You are my subordinate, my soldier. Mine." He groans and starts to slowly rub circles between your already wet folds.

"Ever since you joined the Scouts you have been nothing but submissive-" He trails off and enters you with his finger, making you whimper.

Levi thrusts even harder and throws his head back until a deep growl rings through your ears and you feel him twitch. For a moment he thought about coming inside of you, impregnating you so you wouldn't have to attend the expeditions anymore. Eventually he decides against it, the risks of getting into serious trouble are too high. He watches as hot strings of his semen trip onto your lower bell, his face twisting in disgust. He grabs for a napkin in his pant pockets and cleans himself and your skin, making sure that not one single drop is left. He ever so slightly looks at you, trying to read your reaction. Are you scared? Pleased? He can't tell.

"But I guess people can change, hugh?" He pulls out and leads his finger to his lips, greedily tasting you. Closing your eyes in shame, you bit down on the cloth between your lips, feeling the dip of something hot press against your entrance. You can't hold back your cry when he slides it inside you, stretching you open to take all you are willing to give. His pace increases slightly after he waited for a minute so you could adjust. His hands run through your hair, tugging at any loose strands. Your heart races and your hands ball into fists as you try your best to ignore the burning pain you are in. Levi doesn't stop once. With an angry grunt he slams himself inside and you moan loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist, digging your nails into his broad shoulders. The cloth in your mouths loosens and you take the opportunity, spitting it out.

"Captain. Please-" You cry as you feel your nails digging into his flesh, breaking his pure skin easily. The harsh movements of his hips slowly start to feel enjoyable, the slapping sound of skin ringing in your ears.

"I knew I liked you better when you were quiet." He breathes as he thrusts in and out of you, faster than before. When you thought about your first time it certainly didn’t cross your mind that it would be like this; rough and full hatred. Not understanding why, you would feel pleasure with the way he treats you, you close your eyes and let the sensation wash over you. Your body shakes with each stroke of his cock and your hands start to tremble. A sudden orgasm washes over you and you scream his name, letting it flow free through your clenched teeth. He growls low in his throat when he watches how your hips jerk up towards him.

You breathe flatly, your back hurting from the hard surface underneath you. Your classy eyes watch the dancing flames of the chandelier above you with interest. You feel exhausted and lightheaded, the feeling of being empty again is weird. The sensation of your climax still lingering in your abdomen.

"Sit up Cadet." Your Captain demands and helps you into an upright position.

"Dress. Then help me with those reports." He gestures at the floor, while fixing his shirt, trying to appear not too casual.

"Yes Captain." You obey his comment, collecting your uniform and undergarments that has been spread around his table. You notice his eyes on your naked body, making you feel uncomfortable.

"Cadet." He catches your attention as your eyes meet.

"You don't tell anyone about this. And don't even get the idea of spreading your legs for anyone but me." Levi demands in a grumpy manner. You glance at him, shocked and offended. Never would you dare to do this with any other person.

"Oi! Do you understand that brat?" ‘

"Yes Captain Levi."

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #oneshot #warnings in description #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #yandere levi ackerman x reader

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dreaminofu · 1 month

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discuss in an essay form how much is a lot

The meaning of ”a lot” in the context of phone calls between Bojan Cvjetićanin and Jere Pöyhönen

In this essay we discuss how much is ”a lot” concerning phone calls between Bojan Cvjetićanin (also known as Bojan Titanic and fire and water of Jere Pöyhönen) and Jere Pöyhönen (also knows as Jerč and Pasi).

The two met during the 2023 Eurovision Song Contest where each represented their respective countries, Finland and Slovenia. The pair quickly bonded over their similar energy and childish sense of humour, being able to relieve the pressure of the hectic comptetition from each other’s shoulder, and formed a close friendship as a result. (See bojere and sad bojere bitches tags in the renowned scientific journal Tumblr.com, where the theories as to the true nature of their relationship being ”something more” than just friends or brothers run rampant.)

Ever since the comptetition Mr. Cvjetićanin and Mr. Pöyhönen have stayed in close contact, even seeing each other in person several times despite living 2000 kilometres away from each other (see bojere and sad bojere bitches again for further details).

On the evening of August 15th, 2024, a video was posted on the Tiktok account of one Petra Ceglar (also known as MVP), in which Mr. Cvjetićanin, concerning Mr. Pöyhönen, said:

”We talk anyway on the phone a lot--”

Firstly, we need to define what ”a lot” means in the traditional sense. According to Merriam-Webster, ”a lot” is an adverb meaning to a considerable degree or extent (e.g. ”I liked it a lot.” [=very much] or often, frequently (e.g. Do you travel a lot?). It should also be noted that ”a lot” can have a very subjective meaning to each individual.

We have evidence of Mr. Pöyhönen reporting that he and Mr. Cvjetićanin try to keep in touch on a weekly basis and that they ”talk all the time” (the source of the latter comment has been much disputed). In addition, we have two instances of Mr. Cvjetićanin disclosing that they talk a lot, the previous time the exact wording being ”we are in contact a lot, honestly we talk a lot”. When analyzing Mr. Cvjetićanin’s words further, it is evident that he puts a great deal of emphasis on the words ”a lot”, which conveys that ”a lot” can only signify very frequent occasions regarding the frequency of phone calls between these two individuals.

As a conclusion, when the theoretical framework and the results of our extensive empirical research are combined, it is indeed indisputable that Mr. Cvjetićanin and Mr. Pöyhönen use their cellular devices frequently, at least weekly, to make phone calls to each other. (Though the author is inclined to believe that the two men fall asleep every night on the phone whispering confessions of missing each other.)

It is imperative that further research is done on this subject, particularly concerning the content of these phone calls. On a further note, the scholars in this field are especially keen to tackle the implications of Mr. Cvjetićanin’s words ”but you know it anyway” and ”this is only for the internet” in the video discussed in this essay. Only time will tell what will come of this research.

The author would like to offer her most sincere gratitude to her trusted colleagues consulted for this significant piece of scientific history.

#they talk a lot okay #you asked for an essay i gave you an essay #don’t you have anything more important to do you might ask?#yes #but oh well priorities #and i’m procrastinating stuff so a welcome distraction #bojere #sad bojere bitches support group #bojere science #asks

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chaoticbardlady99 · 10 months

Text

She’s My Religion (Part 2: She Needs This Love Just as Much as Me) Astarion x F! Reader

Author note- totally not sure how I feel about this, but here we go! I hope someone enjoys this lmao.

I’m really tired and so this has been edited once and I’ll add the link for part 1 later. If you asked to be on my tag list- I am going to be adding you tomorrow simply because I can barely keep my eyes open right now.

CW: Domestic violence, physical abuse, emotional abuse, mentions of torture, violence, angst.

Picture does not belong to me and is not mine. I cannot for the life of me remember where I got it so I apologize in advance.

“You’ve been doing WHAT!?”

Astarion sits staring at the forest with his head hung with guilt and shame. Shadowheart sounds furious with him and admittedly, Astarion is also raving mad at himself.

Astarion miscalculated terribly- his plan was completely, utterly doomed from the start. Shadowheart is pacing back and forth in front of him- reading him the right act.

Astarion is zoning out as Shadowheart goes on and on saying all the things he’s already said to himself- he begins to drift to the first time he had ever met you about three years ago.

Astarion had been in solitary confinement for what had felt like forever when Cazador let him out. It was probably the only time Cazador had looked somewhat close to nervous with some sick twisted affection behind his eyes. He simply told Astarion he was to accompany you around the grounds and that you needed to be treated with respect. Your step-father did not want you to be present after dinner.

“You are allowed to take her to do what she wants- within reason. Do not let her leave the mansion grounds and make sure she is content,” Cazador said stiffly, “I am trusting you, boy. You know the consequences if you step out of line.”

Later, before you had arrived, Dalyria had made him privy to you and your… temperaments. Astarion relished in knowing you made a fool out of Petras. Someone needed to give the prick a wake up call.

It was also, supposedly, no secret to anyone in your family that you are the one Cazador wishes to marry, but due to your lack of royal blood, it would ruin his alliance with the Von family entirely. So Cazador is stuck with a woman named Daisy Von (who he cannot stand) and Astarion felt like it was the perfect karma for Cazador- the one time he wants something or someone, he absolutely cannot have it.

You were (still are) wildly different from your obnoxious step-sisters and step-brothers.

“Wild.”

“Rebellious.”

“Boorish.”

“Trouble maker.”

It was all this annoying group of people could seem to talk about- how terrible and horrible you were. What a disappointment. What a nuisance.

Dalyria told him beforehand that this was the norm and that it really only gets more embarrassing for them every time. You were kind, headstrong, ambitious, and beautiful according to Dalyria- when she had stepped in for Petras that night at the last minute, you had treated her like a person. You had asked her about herself, engaged in her hobbies by asking questions, and you had made a point of showing her all the medical books in Bridril Von’s library (you even let her take one, Bridril never goes in the library). Astarion had just stared at her in disbelief- she had to be playing a trick on him.

You stood on the farthest end next to the youngest girl and Bridril had scowled so aggressively, Astarion thought his face may cave in on itself. You are far more captivating than any of Bridril’s children could ever wish to be. No wonder Cazador wants you so badly that he’s willing to do anything to make sure you come over with them or that you show up for dinner at your own home- undeterred by the inability to actually make a proposal for your hand.

You looked positively irritated everytime Daisy opened her mouth and he was too. The woman is dense and over-the-top. Dinner had been awkward and you had barely even touched your food, but drank three goblets of wine- every time Bridril leered at you for getting another glass, a sly smirk would cross your lips. Your own silent rebellion.

Your demeanor and attitude resembled that of a bird trapped in a cage- wings clipped and feathers plucked. It made Astarion feel bitter- in what world were you trapped? You get to live in a nice mansion and go to dinner parties in nice clothes- Astarion just woke up in a TOMB after being in there for WEEKS. How dare a pampered princess such as yourself pretend that you are provided with anything less than perfection.

His bitterness (and biases) hadn’t lasted very long- it lasted for about 5 parties. Your relationship started out with a lot of bickering and miscommunication. Both of your words towards each other were passively laced with venom, but you never complained so he kept being assigned to you. It was never an option really either. Cazador insisted you be a part of every dinner despite Bridril’s grumbling.

The 6th meeting had changed everything. You had not arrived for the party your step-father was throwing and Bridril told Cazador that you were sick before hurriedly rushing off to talk to a local Magistrate. Cazador, naturally, wasn’t satisfied with this explanation so he had sent Astarion to find you.

Astarion had found you sleeping- bloody, battered, and bruised in your bedroom. There was a thick black banded bruise on your neck. The walls were empty, there was only a bedroll in the corner, and the book you had been reading the last time he was there was destroyed and in tatters on the floor. You had woken up when he accidentally slammed the door out of rage and you had looked around disoriented, but skittish and alert all the same. Your eyes softened when you realized it was just him.

You told him you had lost a competition because you hadn’t been sleeping well- too many bad dreams. Bridril had been so embarrassed that he had beaten you for the last several hours before- completely forgetting the mass amount of guests that he had invited to his home that evening. You weren’t allowed to leave your room. Astarion had been wrong. You were a trapped bird in a cage.

It was the one and only time Astarion ever willingly went to Cazador and told him what he had witnessed. You never had a scratch on you again at any future gatherings, but you always looked more tired than the time before. Bridril would boast about all the competitions you had won over the last month- Archery, jousting, mock combats, javelin throwing, etc, etc, etc. The list went on and on- you looked closer and closer to vomiting or keeling over from exhaustion with every activity he named. Life returned to your eyes when you and Astarion went off to dick around.

Escorting you around the Crimson Palace or around the Mansion quickly became his favorite part of those stupid dinner parties or any of the events Cazador threw or went to. You are complex and didn’t grow up in nobility. You despised it, but you were stuck because Bridril had enchanted your mother. You told him she breaks sometimes, but you rarely recognize the woman that pretends to be her nowadays.

You admitted to Astarion you thought he was a pompous bastard when you first met, but he is pretty so you let it slide. Astarion told you that he thought you were a spoiled brat, but because YOU were pretty, he also let it slide.

You had smiled at him, “I guess we are both wrong.”

“But not about being pretty.”

“Oh most certainly not.”

One evening, the two of you had had ‘too much’ fun according to Cazador. You had snuck him into the library and you had sat reading for the entire 6 hour affair. You had asked if it was okay if you sat near him and that eventually led to you leaninging against each other. Astarion had felt like he had been physically, painfully ripped from you when it was time to go. You had kissed Astarion on the cheek before he left and he kissed your hand. Cazador had flayed Astarion for that one night.

Astarion had felt some guilt regarding his resentment toward you after the incident. He knew he wasn’t helping his own situation by giving into your whims and your touch.

If Astarion didn’t know any better, he would think Cazador loved you, but he learned quickly that Cazador’s “affection” for you comes from a place of obsession and possessiveness. You looked like a previous lover of his from a lifetime that Astarion knew very little about. You were different from this woman, but it was not unwelcome in Cazador’s eyes- he has always liked a challenge. He could make you submit.

Cazador had wanted to send someone else to be your escort after you had begun to show an interest in Astarion- this was quickly squashed when you looked like you were going to light Cazador and his entire world on fire if he dared to volunteer another person. He had brought Leon, Astarion, and Dalyria and when Cazador volunteered Leon- you simply said, “No, I want Astarion.”

Cazador was infuriated, but he wanted- no needed you to be happy and to like him. Cazador had told Pale Petras that if he could win your favor, he was sure you’d just willingly come to him and ask to be his consort. Daisy could be thrown out entirely and maybe he’ll have negotiating room. The thought had made Astarion’s stomach turn- he wouldn’t be able to bare watching you become a lifeless consort under Cazador.

However, he always pushed those thoughts away when he was around you so he could stay in a good mood. You would flirt back and forth with Astarion, talk about irrelevant bullshit from the week, the gossip around the mansion, and you both mimicked and complained about how pathetic it was to watch Daisy grovel at Cazador’s feet- a lamb to the slaughter. You referred to the slaughter as being marriage, he referred to the slaughter as Cazador.

It had been a wonderful year of Daisy entirely failing at keeping Cazador’s attention, but she was determined and Astarion admittedly hoped that you may remain a consistent part of his life- the tiniest ray of light to look forward to once or twice a month. And if Cazador marries Daisy? Well, Astarion may never have to be that far away from you permanently.

Then, one night at a party, he had been in the Von mansion’s dining room- Cazador had instructed him to find you. He eventually gave up after he couldn’t and figured you would come to him eventually. Astarion was right, but not in the way he had originally hoped.

You had snuck into the second floor dining area and you locked it behind you. Astarion had been relieved to be in your presence again, but the state you were in… His relief was swallowed up when he had seen how bruised and beaten up you looked. Astarion had surprised you by his presence and you surprised him with your plan. You were escaping and instead of stopping you like a very massive part wanted him too- in spite of Cazador’s command to keep you from leaving the property having been shoved down Astarion’s throat, Astarion helped you tie the rope to propel down the side of the building.

Astarion can still remember the earnest look you’d given him- the way you begged him to leave with you. Gods he wanted to. Astarion remembered all the days that followed after where he kicked himself for not being selfish, but for whatever reason, he didn’t want there to be any way for you to be caught. Astarion knew if he went with you, neither one of you would ever get to know what it means to be free. Cazador would be able to find you through Astarion.

Astarion had told you “no”, struggled to get you to understand between tears, but then you promised him that you would be back. You would kill Cazador and he would be free- you just need him to wait for you. You didn’t know Cazador was a Vampire Lord at the time, but he still believed you. You said give you at least four years- you need time to prepare. He agreed.

Astarion never forgot your promise, clinging to it like a divine wish. There were only 2 more years left- then the Mindflayers kidnapped him.

Astarion had never felt more angry or defeated in his whole life. Astarion would have been free, but now he’s going to turn into a Mindflayer of all things.

Except it had been the best stroke of luck he’d ever had. You were there! In front of him after two years! Your softer noble appearance has been replaced with a scar that shows you dodged just in time to not lose an eye, an Oath of Vengeance sigil plastered to your chest, piercings along your ears, and a large beholder tattoo on your neck. Still beautiful, just far more authentic.

Astarion knows his initial plan to seduce you, sleep with you, and manipulate your feelings was a fucked up one-especially because he knew having you in every way would destroy Cazador without thinking of how it would make you feel. Astarion also acknowledged that a part of him had been doing all this for his own selfish pleasure- no one was in the way of keeping you from getting closer and Astarion didn’t want to have to share your affections with others in camp. And besides, he had been there first.

Oh and Astarion took every advantage of having you to himself. Talking to you, making you laugh, kissing you, being entangled with you while you sleep, drinking from you- fucking you until you only smell of him, leaving bite marks to show you are Astarion’s only.

What Astarion hadn’t anticipated was how much he would also want to be yours. He had been pushing down the feeling for a long time and he always brushed off Shadowheart’s puppy love jokes. Astarion was not smitten with you- he merely knows you and that’s why it’s all so easy. You had shown him simple kindness and you had a history together- you were the obvious choice to go to for protection.

Then the fight with Yurgir happened and Astarion watched you die.

The battle had been hard- brutal even for Astarion’s standards- and the constant bombs being dropped wasn’t helping the situation.

You were up top with Karlach, facing Yurgir head on while Shadowheart and himself tried to pick off the other attackers going after you both.

It had felt like hours, but in reality, what happened next lasted mere seconds.

Yurgir had made you and Karlach lose your balance, but Yurgir was focused on you. Astarion watched in despair as you were flung into the wall, crashing to the ground with a pained scream, a sickening crack, then nothing but blood pouring out of your head. Suddenly, a bomb exploded above you, the rocks began to pour down from the ceiling, and buried you.

The screams that had erupted from Karlach and Shadowheart had snapped him into action. Astarion didn’t remember the rest of the battle, just that it had been a bloodthirsty blur and now he, Karlach, and Shadowheart were clearing the rubble. Astarion had been the one to find you and your face was a bit bruised, the back of your head still seeping with blood, but you looked so peaceful and your skin was so so cold.

When you were completely uncovered, it was evident that you were dead- that this was a job for Withers or a scroll of revivify. Your neck was snapped in half, your limbs were broken- some even shattered. Shadowheart was able to heal and reset your neck so that the whole ordeal was slightly less grotesque. After, he had cradled you in his arms until Karlach and Shadowheart were sure there were no enemies between themselves and the exit.

Astarion had refused to let Karlach take you, holding your broken form against him as his silent tears spilled onto your hushed expression.

You had thankfully not been beyond the point of no return, but Astarion had realized that he needed to have a conversation with you. You are more than an upper hand to him, more than someone fun to tumble around with in his tent- you have somehow become his reason for going forward. Astarion had resigned himself to dying if you weren’t able to be revived. The thought had surprised him after wanting to be free for so long, but would his freedom be worth having if he couldn’t spend it with you? Astarion would rather take his chances and hope you end up together in the same afterlife.

That is what has led him and Shadowheart to having this conversation. Astarion wants to ask you to be something real to each other. Shadowheart had initially been confused, stating that you had “always been real?”, then he told her everything.

Whenever you left Astarion behind, he’d pass the time getting drunk with Shadowheart (if she was left behind). The last time, she had to ask Astarion if his entire conversation catalog is just about you because you were brought up every other word- he had felt incredibly embarrassed, so much so that he had gotten up and hid in his tent.

“Astarion- you never shut up about her, you’ve been following her around like a lost dog since day one- Hells you looked halfway to smitten on the DAMN BEACH!” Shadowheart says with a shrill voice, “What do you mean the entire time up until yesterday that it was all a lie!?”

“It wasn't yesterday only, my favorite wine drunk Sharran” Astarion stated matter-of-factly, “I just… didn’t want to acknowledge that I wanted more. After I first met her, I didn’t see her again for two years- it was bearable, but that had come with the promise of her coming back. She almost didn’t yesterday and I realized that, even after this is all said and done, I don't ever want her to go away. In any capacity.”

Shadowheart shook her head at him, “She’s going to be furious. Heartbroken even.”

“I know,” Astarion says thickly, “but I’m hoping she will forgive me or at least let me prove to her that I’m serious about us.”

You weren’t due back for at least another hour so they had begun working on the speech immediately.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Whatever we are,” you are glaring at him, your voice coated in venom, “or whatever you were pretending I was to you- it’s over.”

No. No. No. NO!

Astarion didn’t think it was possible for his heart to feel like it’s been shattered since it barely beats at all.

It’s over?

It can’t be over! It’s barely begun and you only have half of the story. Astarion knows you’ll listen- you’ll see sense. You have to… right?

“Darling, pl-”

“No! I hate you so much!,” you sob into your hands, his whole body hurts looking at you, “I hate you more than I thought I could ever hate anyone- undead, dead, or alive! I trusted you and you used me for your own gain- so unkindly, go fuck yourself!”

Astarion wants to grab you as you turn around and walk away. He wants to get down on his knees and plead to you- pray to you until you don’t leave him- that you take it back. You’ll give him a chance, even if he loses privileges like getting to hold your hand, cuddle with you at night, or even kiss you for a while, that would be far more bearable than losing you altogether.

Astarion falls to his knees, ruptured and humbled.

“Astarion,” Shadowheart says softly, squatting down in front of him, “it will be okay. She’ll forgive you. She just needs a second, okay? You knew and I knew that this was a toss up to begin with.”

Astarion nodded numbly and got to his feet. Shadowheart gives him a squeeze on the shoulder before going into her own tent and Astarion briskly begins to walk back to his. He makes eye contact with you as Wyll enters your tent and the look on your face when you saw him makes this whole nightmare all too real.

Once he secures the tent flaps, Astarion crawls onto his bedroll and lets the sadness consume him while being surrounded by your scent. This may be one of the worst days he’s ever had in the last 200 years- at least from what he can remember.

If Astarion wasn’t so afraid for your safety, he would have packed up all of his things and headed back to Cazador with his tail between his legs, but he can’t because all that does is put you in danger.

Astarion slowly peels himself off the bed roll and hugs his knees to his chest. He lets himself stare off into nowhere as he lets himself be consumed with the agony and vexation- it’s not like there is any wildlife to go take out his pain on.

Astarion gets up and rolls his shoulders. As much as he wants you, you are done with him and he needs to respect that. Astarion decides he’ll leave you alone, but remain in the background. He’ll stay until you tell him to leave and never return. It will hurt so terribly to not be near you like he was, but he’ll just have to be grateful for the time he did have- the time he took for granted.

Astarion begins to get ready for the long night ahead of him when an open letter on one of his books catches his attention.

It’s addressed to you, torn open and stained with tears. Astarion opens the envelope. He reads the note so many times he feels like he may go on a homicidal rampage. Not only was your mother dead, likely at the hands of your step-father, you are officially considered engaged to be married to Cazador fucking Szarr.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion had waited until morning to try to talk to you again-giving up on leaving you alone. He knows that you have a very long cool down period when your feelings are hurt (he has made this mistake less severely in the recent past). If there is any hope of you hearing Astarion out- it would be today.

Except you had already left with Karlach, Gale, and Lae’zel by the time he has finally built up the courage to leave his tent.

Astarion spent the day with Shadowheart and actually attempted to help with camp chores. Astarion bounced ideas off of her, but he didn’t tell her about the note. It felt like that was information for you to share if you wanted and you probably hadn’t intended on him learning about this information in the first place.

Shadowheart looks at him after awhile, a troubled look on her face. Shadowheart turns towards Wyll.

“Hey Wyll, they should have been back by now right?”

Wyll walks over to Shadowheart and Astarion with the same troubled expression.

“Yes, it was just a quick supply run to Last Light Inn before we take a day to recooperate,” Wyll says slowly, “I’m wondering what has held them up this long…”

Their pondering and questions were quickly interrupted by the sound of foot steps racing towards them.

“SHADOWHEART! HALSIN!”

You and Karlach were screaming their names in unison. Karlach is supporting Lae’zel and Gale is slack against you as you fight to keep him upright. The usually wonderful smell of your blood is now making him ill as you come closer to camp.

Across your sides were long, bloody scratch marks- in fact, there are claw marks all along your arms and your armor. One side of your face has a superficial scratch. Karlach appears to be in better shape, but just as scratched up nonetheless.

“We- we were ambushed by an Absolute Cultist,” Karlach exclaims breathily, “a Fist named Marcus. He was trying to bring Isobel back to Ketheric.”

Astarion watches as you help lay Gale down near Halsin and Shadowheart so they can begin to get to work, Lae’zel being laid down next to him. Shadowheart catches your wrist with her hand and gives you a Superior Healing Potion- the soft smile you offer her makes Astarion think he may have a chance.

Astarion walks back towards his tent and toys with the letter on the counter. Does he bring it up? Does he just bring it back to you and not acknowledge it? What would you even want him to do?

The noise outside had diminished as Lae’zel and Gale were recovered enough to be moved and healed in their individual tents- Shadowheart healing Gale and Halsin healing Lae’zel. It must be an early night for everyone. Astarion takes a deep breath and opens his tent flap, ready to confront you- but it looks like he didn’t have to travel very far to confront you.

There you are, cleaned up now, standing in front of Astarion’s tent looking nervous and heartbroken. In his shock, Astarion offers you his hand and gently pulls you inside, closing the flaps behind you.

“What did I do?” you blurt out, tears streaming down your face as fast as words are coming out of your mouth, “I can be useful again. I can do whatever you need me to- be whoever you need me to be.”

You take a jagged, heart wrenching inhale and he can hear you fighting the lump in your throat.

“I can’t do this alone- I just can’t,” you sob and look down at your feet, “I know what I said. I know I’m a fool for crawling back here begging you to keep pretending, but please. I can be what you need me to be, I promise. I’ll be- perfect for you. Please.”

Astarion bridges the gap between the two of you and puts your face between his hands, guiding your melancholy eyes to his.

“Darling, you have always been perfect. I have never needed you to be anything more or less than what you are. You are a Godsend.”

“Then why?” you whisper, “Why would you practice breaking up with me? What did I do?”

Astarion sits there and looks at you with bewilderment- practicing breaking up with you? He was practicing trying to ask to be with you!

He chuckles despite the tears that are slowly spilling from his eyes, “You insult me, my Love. I have no issues with breaking up with people- I think. Never really had the chance and I had no desire to end our relationship yesterday.”

You look at him with regret and guilt in your eyes. You go to move away from him- evidently worried about him rejecting you and hurting you. He moves with you, not letting you go anywhere and he kisses your forehead, one of his hands moving to the small of your back while the other remains on your cheek.

“What I was trying to tell you, my Dear,” Astarion softly whispers, “is that, regardless of my original intentions, my plan failed terribly.”

“How so?” you whisper in return.

“It was all so simple- seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy- instinctive. 200 years of instinct had kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it and all I had to do was not fall for you.”

Astarion traces your bottom lip with his thumb, pulling you into him by pressing into the small of your back. You gasp gently at the contact.

“And that is where my nice simple plan fell apart,” he says woefully, “you’re incredible. You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.”

Your eyes search his face for any signs of ingenuity or deception.

“I do too, more than anything,” you say breathlessly, “but what about everything I said yesterday? Everything I said was terrible.”

“It was,” he ponders, then he says teasingly “if my feelings weren’t so hurt and if I wasn’t the one on the receiving end- I dare say I would have been proud of you.”

“Well I learned my dramatics from the best after all.”

“I didn’t know Wyll was such a great teacher- I’ll have to ask him for tips some time,” he quips.

Your laugh lifts the painful fog that has been smothering him in his tent for the last day. Astarion pulls you down with him into his bedroll, you curl up around him and he spreads the blanket out. You lay your head on his chest and he pulls you into him tightly- inhaling your scent and savoring the thrumming of your pulse underneath his finger nails.

“Those nights when we were together,” you ask, peering up at him with worry, “did they not mean anything to you then?”

Astarion freezes before he releases a deep sigh. This may be the part where you change your mind and he is mentally preparing for it- taking account of the way you feel against him just in case this is truly the last time.

“I don’t know what real looks like,” he confesses, “being close to anyone-any kind of intimacy- was something I performed to lure people back for him.”

He feels you flinch at the mention of Cazador.

“Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don’t know how to be with someone- no matter how much I’d like to.”

“I care about you deeply- we can be together without having sex for however long you need,” you pause, “you are so much more to me than sex and I adore you for so much more than just your body.”

“Really?” the shock in his voice is blatant.

“Really,” you say with a smile before laying your head back on his chest.

“I don’t know what we’re doing,” he says giddily, running his hands through your hair, “ but I know that this, this is nice.”

You hum in agreement and he draws circles on your back. Astarion basks in your presence and sits in the relief that you are back in his arms again.

“Astarion,” you break the silence, “I have to tell you something- I got a letter. It’s not… good.”

“I know, Darling,” Astarion says tightly, “you left it in here. Unfortunately I let my noisiness get the best of me.”

You both sit in the heavy silence that fills the air.

“I’m to be married off to him, Astarion,” you choke out.

“I won’t let him have you, “Astarion snarls, his voice coming out much harsher than he intended.

“But what if there isn’t a choice? What if it would protect yo-”

“No.”

He is looming over you, you are now flat on your back staring up at him. Astarion feels like a coil ready to spring. If it’s ever between him and you regarding who goes to Cazador- he’d serve a thousand life sentences before he’d ever let that vile man so much as look in your direction.

“Astarion-”

“No,” he says between clenched teeth, “you will not sacrifice yourself for me. I don’t care if you marrying Cazador and being his consort would make me mortal again. You will not be his- he cannot have you.”

You look up at him with bleary, adoring eyes, “okay.”

Astarion kisses your trembling lips and he tastes the tears staining them. Astarion pulls away and strokes your cheek softly. He lays back down and you turn towards him, tangling your hands into his hair, gently detangling it. Astarion rests his hands on your hips, using his fingers to delicately adjust you until your legs are entangled in his.

“My mom is dead, Star,” you say remorsefully “she’s gone. She was all alone and probably so afraid. I never even said goodbye before I left her to her fate- I was a coward.”

The hurt in your voice is raw and bleeding- it breaks Astarion’s heart all over again.

“I am so incredibly sorry for your mother and your loss, Little Love, “Astarion says softly, “but you are not a coward. You did what you needed to do. You were always planning on coming back.”

“I was,” you whisper, “I was going to get her first and then you.”

“Foolishly enough,” Astarion chuckles, “I never lost faith in you. I felt like if anyone could do it, it would be you- the glimpse of sunlight amongst the secondhand embarrassment that is Daisy Von.”

You giggle and press your face into his chest- the vibrations fills his chest with warmth. Astarion is so incredibly happy you are back where you belong- here with him.

“I am hardly comparable to the sun,” you say, “I think I’m a candle. Ordinary, accessible, there when you need it.”

Astarion turns over your words in his head- he agrees with the statement but disagrees with the reasoning entirely.

“You are a candle,” he says slowly, “but a candle has always been a luxury to me. It allowed me to sew or read- to have a tiny piece of my humanity back. It was nice to have a break from the dark, huddled around the small flame.”

He pauses, “ I suppose that is why I am so drawn to you. You make me feel like a person again and you are a luxury I never thought I’d be lucky enough to afford outside of those monthly visits.”

“Well, then I promise I will remain here,” you say with adoration, “your humble candle- for as long as you need me.”

“Be careful what you promise, Little Love,” Astarion teases, “if you aren’t careful, you may be stuck with me for eternity.”

“Gods, I hope so!” you say with flourish, “everyone else is terribly boring and does not appreciate my predisposition for shenanigans.”

“How ungrateful!”

“Entirely ungrateful!” you agree.

Astarion pulls you in for another kiss, a grin forming as you gasp at the suddenness of his actions. Astarion kisses the tip of your nose, both of your cheeks, and your forehead. You settle into him and he strokes your hair- your breathing evens out and you are slack against him.

Astarion takes in your sleeping figure and feels another surge of protectiveness enveloping his body. He doesn’t know how accessible his thoughts are to Cazador, but he hopes Cazador hears this one.

You cannot have her- she is mine.

_________________________________________________

Author note- should I do a part three and four with the Cazador confrontation? I’m torn- let me know your thoughts pleaseeeeee

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 #karlach #astarion acunin #astarion x f! reader #astarion x female reader

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miraclesabound · 1 year

Text

My Hero

Summary: Luca helps Reader feel better after her date at his restaurant goes to shit.

Pairing: Luca/F!Plus Size!Reader, pre-relationship

Notes: I've been pondering this story for several weeks, and now I'm finally getting it down on paper.

Warnings: Date gone wrong, canon-typical language, self-esteem issues, mention of dirty thoughts, food and dessert descriptions, tiny bit of food kink?, past fat-shaming, still fluffy with a happy ending (mention of future relationship)

Tags: @pettyprocrastination @cinewhore @nolita-fairytale @phoenixhalliwell @grogusmum

"Chef, we have a problem at Table 5."

Luca sighs when Petra tells him this - she's his most trusted waitress, and she can usually handle anything on the floor. "What kind of problem?" he asks.

"The woman's date snuck out on her, and he stuck her with the check." Petra points out into the restaurant space, and Luca sees the patron in question. She's plump and pretty, but the way she's hunched over her table, Luca can tell how upset she is.

"Was the guy acting weird?"

Petra shrugs. "I mean, he was a little under-dressed, and he'd been twitchy. I guess he was looking for his opportunity to dash - he mentioned needing the bathroom, then he disappeared. That said, the lady has been lovely; I just hope this doesn't sour her on this place for good."

"Okay..." Luca ponders a minute, and then he takes his apron off. Calling to his staff, he says, "Chefs, I'll be right back, keep it moving!"

"Yes chef!" "Heard, chef!" Luca smiles to himself; he's always known his team is dependable.

When Petra comes back to check on you, she's not alone - she's accompanied by a striking man with dark blond hair and an attractive lift to his eyebrows.

"Petra, is this the manager?" you ask. "I'm good for the check, I wasn't trying to angle for a discount."

Petra shakes her head. "No ma'am - this is Chef Luca, our head of pastries. He just wanted to chat with you and see how you were doing." She pats your shoulder and takes her leave.

"May I sit?" Luca asks.

"Sure," you say. FUCK, he's cute - up close, you can tell that his nose and jaw could cut glass.

He sits across from you, and his expression is sympathetic. "Petra told me the basics - are you ok?"

"Well, like I said, I'm good for the check - but mostly, I feel stupid," you admit. "All the warning signs were there that this was a set-up."

"Oh?"

"Yeah - I'd known Oliver for five years, and he'd never gone out with anyone who....who's built like me - and then suddenly he says, "Oh, let's go to this great place I heard about, but can you put the reservation under your name?" We get here and Petra asks us about splitting the check - he says there's no need, it'll be just one check, and when I thank him, he says, "No, thank you for coming out." "

You pause, and then you groan in annoyance. "Shit, I bet he heard about me getting my inheritance from my aunt; that's why he knew I could afford this place."

Luca winces - he's heard of some cowardly shit in his time, but this is ridiculous. "That's the worst; I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, but thank you," you say. "Petra was great and it's sweet of you to check in." You pull out your purse. "I'll pay up and be on my way."

"Actually, do you have to go just yet?" Luca asks. "If you're not in a hurry, I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

Your mind briefly goes to a dirty place, but thankfully it doesn't show on your face. You put your purse back down and look at him questioningly. "What kind of favor?"

"I have a new dessert I'm working on, but I don't think it's quite right yet. Want to try a few samples and tell me what you think?"

That's not what you were expecting, but you won't argue with a handsome man presenting you with handmade delicacies either. You nod, and Luca signals Petra to the kitchen to get a tray together.

Petra returns with a plate full of different variations on the same dessert, along with a glass of sparkling water for a palate cleanser. Your eyes go wide - there must be a dozen different versions of this miniature treat in front of you. Each piece is unique, either by stacking order or by ingredient proportions.

"You don't mind me eating in front of you?" you ask Luca. Unfortunately, you've had it happen once where someone made oinking noises while you ate, and you've never quite lived it down.

"I wouldn't be in this business if I did," he reassures you.

"Ok, that's fair." Looking down at your platter, you decide to start from the left top corner and work your way down each column. It's hard not to notice Luca's eyes on you as you go through, but you figure he's just gauging your reactions.

It's all absolutely delicious, but there are samples that particularly stand out. When you're done, you have your answer. "Keeping in mind that I am the opposite of a professional at this sort of thing," you say, "I think if you took the stacking order of the third one - plum then chocolate then cookie - but then used the proportions of the seventh one where it's heavier on the chocolate than the other ingredients ... I think you'd have a winner."

Luca breaks out into a smile that makes your heart flutter. "I can see that," he agrees. "I'll test a full size version - and maybe you'd like to come back and try it tomorrow?"

"...Chef, are you asking for a food taster or for something else?" After the stunt Oliver pulled on you, you don't want any confusion.

"Well, let me put it this way," Luca says, helping you to your feet and hooking your purse over your shoulder. "If you were to come back tomorrow...there would be dinner before the new dessert premieres - if you're up for that?" He's still holding onto the strap of your bag, and it means you're looking right in his eyes.

"I am," you tell him with a smile. "And even if there weren't dinner, I'd still owe you for saving my night, so...yes. I'll be back tomorrow."

Years later, you and Luca still can't agree which of those nights actually counts as your first date. If someone were to ask Luca, he says it was the first night when you tried his desserts. If that same person were to ask you, you would say the dinner the next night was the change because that's when you had your first kiss.

Petra, who's no stranger to these conversations after all these years, keeps her opinions to herself - but in her mind, you're both off the mark. From what she could tell, Luca was yours as soon as he'd looked at you.

#luca the bear #chef luca x reader #luca x reader

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pastshadows · 3 months

Text

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 17: Let Me Forget

Summary: After a year of blissful cohabitation, Astarion disappears without a trace, leaving behind a heartfelt letter explaining his departure. Determined to find him, you traverse Faerûn in search of your lost love, only to realize that some absences are meant to be permanent.

Returning to Waterdeep, you find solace in the company of Gale as you come to terms with Astarion's absence. But just as you begin to heal, Astarion reappears, begging for a second chance at love.

The question looms: can you forgive his abandonment and trust him once more? As you grapple with your emotions and trauma, a sinister force lurks in the shadows, targeting you for unknown reasons.

With danger closing in, you must navigate the treacherous waters of trust, love, and betrayal to uncover the truth behind the mysterious entity's motives. Will you be able to reunite with Astarion while facing the demons of your past? Can you unravel the secrets that threaten your very existence?

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 6.4K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.]

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Sexual Assault [Implied/attempted sexual assault: Chapter 7]. Past Trauma. Murder. Death. Longing. Sexual themes. Smut. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions. Panic attacks. Anxiety.

With the medley of parchment laid out on Gale’s lengthy kitchen table, the silence hangs heavily over the room, suffocating the air with an oppressive stillness and unspoken words. The only sound is the angry rain, drumming on the grand, arched windows, and the raging wind that buffets the manor with forceful gusts.

It is a foreboding sound. You have never been afraid of storms; you enjoyed watching them before, but you find yourself closing your eyes at every quaking groan of Gale’s tower and every rattle of the windows as they hold out against the blustery squalls.

Gale finally takes one piece of parchment and examines it. His brows furrow, and he rubs his chin. Eventually, his eyes flit up to Astarion.

“Dal’s.” Astarion sighs, answering the unasked question. Wracking his fingers through his hair, he points to each piece. “Petras’s. Yousen’s. Violet’s.”

Shadowheart’s voice is softer than normal when she speaks. “Where are your siblings, Astarion?”

“In the Underdark, as far as I know.” He shrugs. “I never returned to see them.”

Your hand coasts over the indented, scarred skin of your arm from the time you visited the Underdark. “They were in the Underdark. They were using the Arcane Tower as a home.”

“You saw them?” Astarion asks. “All of them?”

“Dal, Petras, and Leon were definitely there, as well as the spawn we set free.” Your fingernails bite into your scars as you try to repress the memory. “I’m not sure about the others.”

“Did they say anything?” Astarion turns to you with his speech a little more rapid than usual. “Anything at all?”

“It was many moons ago, Astarion. They weren’t interested in talking to me much, but no, they never mentioned someone was hunting them or requesting to sketch their scars.”

“Why do they have scars written in Infernal?” Hecat’s brows furrow as she regards the symbols. “It’s pieces of a contract.”

“We know.” Shadowheart says brusquely. “We know what it says and what it’s about. What we don’t understand is why it’s here.”

“Do you have scars like this, Astarion?” Hecat asks carelessly.

Your whole body immediately tenses, but you master yourself and attempt to appear unruffled by her inquisition. Astarion is capable of deciding how to answer this for himself.

“I do,” he nods. “A… gift from my old master.”

“Who must be dead?” Hecat presumes, still trying to make sense of everything. You’re not sure how much you want her to know. “Since you’re here and all, and still a spawn.”

“Yes, he’s dead.” Astarion answers calmly, but he subtly rests his hand on your thigh, and you realize his fingers are trembling.

Taking his hand, you give it a reassuring squeeze. He squeezes back while breathing deeply. It is not something you’re used to seeing him do unless he’s trying to calm you. It alerts you to his unease, setting you further on edge.

“I suppose I will ask the question none of us want to.” Shadowheart surmises with her lips pressed together and a clenched jaw. “Why are Astarion's siblings' scars drawn on pieces of paper we found in a manor hidden by illusion magic?”

You frown and chew on your bottom lip. “Is it possible that another Vampire Lord can try to fulfill the contract?”

Gale shakes his head. “We destroyed everything that even dared hint at that ungodly ritual.”

“We destroyed the paper trail.” You nod and glance at Astarion.

“But not the pawns of it.” He finishes, looking down at his lap. “The only people living who might be able to tell someone how to complete the ritual are my siblings, me, and all of you.”

“Hells.” Gale rasps, his hand rubbing his forehead. “Do you really think that’s what this is all about?”

“It makes sense,” you murmur. “But what we don’t know is if they are trying to collect the spawn that are already marked for sacrifice or if they simply need the markings on them.”

“Either way, they will collect them.” Astarion concludes bitterly, with one corner of his lips curling up in contempt. “Likely to make sure no one else has access to those markings. Furthermore, the spawn we set free in the Underdark will be rounded up as well. A Vampire Lord is not going to waste time making 7,000 spawn if there are already that many running around in the Underdark who have been conveniently carved up already. Gods. I knew I should have killed them.”

“So, what do we do?” Gale paces around, clearly agitated. “What can we do?”

“There are still two of Astarion’s siblings unaccounted for.” You sit back in your chair. “Maybe Astarion and I should visit the Underdark. If they are rounding up his siblings, maybe we can get to them before they do.”

“And bring them where, exactly?” Astarion spits, twisting in his chair to look at you. “Certainly not here.”

“Not here, but maybe our house?” Astarion’s brows pinch together, and his mouth snaps shut. You continue, “It’s well hidden; they can hunt in the forests, and it’s already set up for the particular needs of a vampire.”

You’re not particularly fond of the idea of letting them stay in your house. It feels like an encroachment, but it is the best idea you have right now. Judging from Astarion’s sour expression, he, too, is not pleased with it.

“Kamena…” Gale’s hands rest on the back of a chair, and he looks at you with his expression clouded by somberness. “I don’t wish to overstep, my friend, but are you certain it’s a good idea for you to return there?”

Astarion quirks a brow at you, and your hand moves to cover the scars everyone is now staring at. You ignore the urge to get as far away from this conversation as you can and take deep breaths. Admittedly, you don’t want to return there, but you don’t want to stay here either.

If you’re being completely honest, you would take Astarion, disappear, and never look back. If this Vampire Lord is truly after the contract in an attempt to complete the ritual, then Astarion is in peril staying here. You should be getting him as far away from here as you can.

But you cannot leave your friends, who are now tangled up in this mess.

“Thank you for your concern, Gale, but I’m fine.” You lie, and you’re rather impressed that you manage to keep your voice steady and strong. “What do you think, Astarion?”

“I think the more of my siblings we can keep away from them, the better, but I do not relish taking you into a den of vampire spawn who are likely feral.” Astarion rubs his eyes, squeezing them shut hard, creasing the corners. “Perhaps it would be best if I went alone.”

The thought of Astarion leaving makes your heart thud in your chest, seizing and being crushed under his words. He promised he would never leave you alone again, and now he’s trying to.

You try to breathe deeply, but the air seems unfathomably thin, and you feel like you’re drowning. Your eyes feel frozen open, just staring at the table but not really looking at it.

He wants to leave.

He wants to leave me alone again.

Would he ever come back?

Does he want to come back?

Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to gag that voice in your head that tells you to run, to break his heart before he can break yours, and to repress the whirling thoughts of loneliness, abandonment, and dread.

Is this just his way of trying to get away from me?

“Kamena?” Astarion touches your shoulder featherlight, but it still makes you jump up.

Your chair falls backward and clatters to the floor, and you stare the confused faces at the table. You ball your hands into fists at your sides so that they can’t see how badly you’re trembling.

“Excuse me.”

It takes considerable effort to force yourself to walk down the hallway as nonchalantly as you can, but as soon as you get out of sight, you pick up speed and jog to your room. No matter how hard you try, the panic continues to grow like thorny vines around your nerves, and your breath comes rapidly through parted lips.

You need a distraction from this downward spiral, so you grab the lock and thieves’ tools Astarion gave you to practice and draw a bath. Sitting in the tub, you listen to the soothing sound of running water, place the lock on a stool, kneel and hunch over the edge, and start trying to replicate what Astarion has shown you.

Your fingers still tremble fretfully with both tools in hand, and you cannot, for the life of you, find the first pin in this stubborn hunk of metal. Even as your trembling settles and your mind stops its incessant whirling, you cannot get the stupid lock to turn even slightly.

How many times has Astarion shown me this?

Would he give you a defective lock you never had any chance of opening? Yes, you think he would. He would find that to be quite humorous once you figured it out. You peer into the keyhole to see if any of the mechanisms look... Well, fuck. You’re unsure what you should even be looking for, and you frown at the lock with spite.

“You are staring at that lock like it has personally offended you.” Astarion chuckles, leaning his shoulder on the frame of the archway.

“It has,” you grumble. “It will not fucking open!”

“May I join you?” Astarion points to the bath.

You nod, continuing to try to manipulate the lock while he undresses and slips behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and he presses the sculpted planes of his chest into your back, hovering over you to watch your incompetent attempts while he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“I can veritably hear you scowling at me, you know.”

“Hells below.” Astarion groans dramatically. “This is truly painful to observe.”

His arms come around you, and his cool hands grip yours as his expert fingers guide the tools in your hand to demonstrate again. He turns the tools slowly, performing some sort of Rogue devilry, you’re quite sure, until you feel a small pop and hear a metal clink.

“Feel that?” Astarion glances at you, kissing your cheek. “That’s what you’re looking for.”

He relinquishes his control and goes back to resting his head on your shoulder with his arms tangled around your waist. He murmurs, “Are you okay?”

“You told me you wouldn’t leave me alone again,” you say shakily, swallowing the burbling fear. You hate how pathetic you sound. “Where you go, I go. Remember?”

“The Underdark is dangerous — far more dangerous now than it was when we went gallivanting down here.”

You hold your scarred arm out for him to see before going back to tending to the lock. The distraction is helpful, allowing you to focus instead of spiralling. “I’m well aware of how dangerous it is down there now.”

Astarion’s hand glides down your arm, his fingers brushing over each indented blemish gently. “Are you going to tell me what in the Hells happened down there?”

“I don’t know.” You answer truthfully. “The short version of it is that the spawn down there are feral and starved, and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“I suspect there is far more to it than that.” Astarion rubs your back in soothing circles, kissing the back of your shoulder softly. “Alright, fine. Where I go, you go, and vice versa from now on, yes?”

You glance over your shoulder into crimson eyes. “Promise?”

He sweeps a lock of your hair back from your cheek and places his hand on his chest, above his heart. “You have my word.”

You nod with a small smile and return to the lock in your hands before your mind can whisper and pull you under into a riptide of doubt. Astarion brushes his fingers through your hair, untangling any knots as he goes gently. It is entirely distracting, and one of the sharp tools slips from your grasp.

“Focus, darling,” he tuts, picking up the tool off the floor and handing it back to you.

“I think this lock is faulty,” you huff in annoyance.

Astarion has always made lockpicking look like child’s play. Most locks take him a matter of seconds to pick; even the ones in the Counting House only took minutes at the most.

“Do you really think I would do that to you?” Astarion laughs when you quirk an accusatory brow at him over your shoulder. “Fine. Fine. I might for a laugh, but I assure you, this lock is perfectly fine. You’re just too impatient.”

You groan, rolling your eyes, and take a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. A low growl of frustration rumbles in your chest as the tool catches on something and refuses to budge.

Astarion chuckles as he takes control once more to correct the position of your fingers. “You cannot just brute force it like some barbarian. You must be patient, focus, listen to it, and tend to its unique needs.” His fingers brush the back of your hand softly. “Much like making love.”

“For the love of...” you scoff. “Did you really just make that comparison?”

He helps you rotate the metal rods deftly, pressing his body further into yours. “You’ll find it to be accurate. Every lock is different and requires a personalized approach. You cannot just shove the tools in the hole like an oaf and expect it to open and reveal its secrets.”

“You’re making it sound intentionally sexual in nature.”

“I cannot be blamed for the fact that dexterity comes in handy in a variety of situations.” He says, clicking his tongue softly. His lips ghost along the ridge of your ear to the tapered tip, and he whispers, “It is how I make love to you, no? Listen to your body, read your mood, and tend to your needs.”

Heat rushes to your face, reddening your cheeks, and your heart jolts in your chest, escalating into a quickened pace as his words play your heartstrings like a lyre.

“My mood?” You rasp with a silvery timbre.

The pop of another pin clinks. Astarion rescinds his control but keeps his hand poised near yours, skimming the back of your hand with his fingertips to encourage you to keep going.

“Yes, your mood." Astarion drawls, "Sometimes you want it tender and loving, and other times rough and wild. Sometimes you want to control; sometimes you want to be controlled. It all depends on your mood, really.”

You swallow hard, finding it extremely difficult to concentrate all of a sudden. Shivers spread across your body, prickling your skin as Astarion’s lips ghost along the back of your neck, raining kisses down your spine.

Your hands jitter in the lock, making the rods ting against the metal housing.

“You’re awfully distracted.” Astarion coos.

The heat seems to drain from your face and into your lower abdomen, flaring at the seductive, husky baritone of his taunting.

You clear your throat. “And what mood would you say I am in today?”

“Hmm…” Astarion hums lowly. He regards you silently for a moment, as if reading a particularly interesting chapter of a book. “I think today you want to be taken, claimed, fucked. Perhaps, if you’re a very good girl, I will give you what you desire if you can unlock that lock.”

His knee nudges between your legs, edging them further apart, and his hand cups the curve of your ass, giving it a teasing squeeze. Your mouth drops open as his fingers trail through your folds and settle on the intensely aching flesh.

Your hips jerk, and your fingers quiver, nearly dropping the tools, but Astarion's other hand steadies your grip. “Focus,” he purrs, starting to rub circles around the throbbing border of your clit. “Keep a firm grip on it now. Try rotating it to the right a little.”

He cannot possibly expect you to keep focused like this, and you let out something between a whimper and a mewl, frustration and desire mixed. With his free hand, Astarion takes control of yours, guiding the tool in your fingers to turn the mechanism as his fingers change the direction of their circling — counterclockwise, clockwise, and back — in whatever way he makes you twist the lock.

Another metallic pang comes from the opening, but you barely hear it underneath your gasps. “Hear that? You’re nearly there.” He groans, pressing chaste kisses down your neck. “Keep going, love. You’ve got this.”

You are nearly there, but not in the way he’s implying. “Astarion… I can’t... Gods. Not when you’re-”

“When I am what?” He increases his pace, making you slump over and moan, closing your eyes against the pleasure. “If you stop, so will I.”

Good Gods. There is almost nothing you wouldn’t do to get him to continue, so you force your eyes to open, center them on the lock, and try to continue manipulating the godsforsaken device.

Astarion presses his erection against your lower back with a shaky groan. He drags his finger up and down your seam, teasing your entrance, and then back to circling your demandingly pulsing pearl. The sensation is too overwhelming, making your core spasm involuntarily, and the tools drop from your hands in favour of holding onto the edge of the bathtub for dear life.

His ministrations pause instantaneously. “The tools do you no good unless you use them, darling.”

You roll your hips in a vain attempt to get any friction, but Astarion grasps them and forces them to remain still. You lean back into him; his cock pulses against you, and despite his outward poise, the low grunts and growls in his throat tell you that he’s losing his composure.

“Astarion,” you whimper in disapproval. It takes everything you have not to take matters into your own hands, so to speak.

“You want more?” He taunts, with a featherlight stroke to entice you. “Go on then. Unlock it.”

You smile at his choice of words and grin at him mischievously. Before he has time to correct himself, your fingers dance, the incantation rolls off your tongue, and the lock clicks open for you.

Astarion chuckles — rich and low. He kisses your shoulder, clicks his tongue, and tuts. “That’s cheating, Kamena.”

“You said unlock it,” you tease. “You didn’t specify how.”

“You naughty little vixen,” he scolds, kissing up the column of your neck. He whispers, letting his cool breath fan your heated skin. “I have half a mind to withhold your prize.”

“What does the other half of your mind say?” You press into his arousal, rocking your hips side to side.

“Fuck it."

His fingers clutch your chin, turning your head in a possessive hold, and he kisses you ravenously. You only feel the blunt head of Astarion’s cock at your entrance for a moment before he drives himself to the hilt with a swift snap of his hips.

Your eyes roll back, and Astarion’s hand covers your mouth to smother the loud, rapturous cry.

“We are not at home any longer,” he grunts as he pulls back slowly, so you can feel every crest of his swollen head exquisitely drag across your ridges. “Are you going to stay quiet, or shall I keep you quiet?”

There is no hope that when you speak, your words will be intelligible, and you simply put your hand over the one covering your mouth to let him know he should keep it there, lest the entire household know what carnal depravity you’re partaking in.

“As you wish,” he purrs, nipping at your shoulder and snaking an arm around your waist to hold you steady.

Your thighs tremble as you ride out the relentless pace Astarion sets. The bath water splashes over the edges of the tub with every one of his powerful thrusts. Every thought shatters into fireworks that burst behind your eyes, and all your doubts are drowned away as he slams into you, hitting a spot so deep that it makes your legs weak.

“You are mine,” he growls, dark and dominating.

Yes. Yours. Make me forget every month, day, second I spent without you. Make me forget.

I want to forget.

Astarion’s fangs crawl down your neck and sink into your flesh with a quick snap of his jaw. He doesn’t ask permission, but he knows he doesn’t need to. He plays with your clit, the pads of his fingers rubbing and circling, and the combination of all these sensations borders on overwhelming.

The world seems to fall away around you, and all that’s left is you, him, and devastatingly intense ecstasy. Your hand drops and grasps Astarion’s thigh, fingers squeezing the taut muscles, feeling them work as he pounds into you unrelentingly. You’re a moaning, whimpering, mindless mess as the pleasure grows and grows until every nerve is humming with blissful tension. A loud moan rumbles in Astarion’s chest, and the tension snaps suddenly like an overwrought elastic band.

You come, hard and loud, thighs shaking, hips rocking into him, every shockwave clenching upon his thickness so strongly that it draws ragged breaths from his throat.

He removes his fangs from your neck. “Kiss me,” he orders.

Even though your spirit feels like it’s just finding its footing back in your body, you turn your head with parted lips, blinking at him slowly. Your blood is smeared across his silken mouth, dripping down his chin. His eyes are glossy with genuine pleasure as he moulds his lips to yours.

Astarion’s hand wraps around your throat, and he buries his cock as deep as you can take him thrust after sensational thrust. He entices your lips to part, his tongue eagerly seizing the whimpers and sighs from your throat.

His hips stutter, eyes squeezing shut, and he cries in your mouth as his cock twitches and pulses, spilling his seed deeply inside you as he unravels in the Eden of his climax.

You both slump forward as you catch your breath, holding onto the edge of the bathtub for support. Astarion’s hand slips from your throat to just under your breasts, and he keeps you pressed firmly to his chest, supporting your still-trembling body.

In his arms, you feel safe and secure.

Yet, there is a voice at the back of your head that warns you not to get too comfortable being this in love because if his life is in danger and being in Waterdeep with you puts him in mortal peril, you will send him away.

You will break his heart to save his life — even if it breaks you.

The shadows spread out around you, with only the soft bioluminescent glow of crystals, flora, and your small fire providing any illumination to the hopeless dark. You gaze at the fire, absently morphing it into shapes of things you miss from the surface — the sun, trees, birds.

Astarion.

How long have you been down here trying to track down his siblings and the 7,000 vampire spawn you set free?

Days? Weeks? Months?

Long enough for your skin to start losing the kiss of the sun.

When the flaming figure looks up from the book in his hands and waves at you, tears start to prick your eyes, and you curse under your breath as you relinquish your control and the fire rolls down into its natural state.

You know better than to allow your mind to wander. Why you keep doing this to yourself, you’ll never understand.

You glance around your little, makeshift, one-person camp situated in a spot you remember well. You thought it would bring you comfort to stay where you have happier memories, but the barrenness is only another aching reminder of his absence. Sighing, you grab the edges of your bedroll and start wrapping it up. You left your tent months ago when it became too threadbare and worn to be of much use other than slowing you down.

Your fingers comb through your knotted hair quickly and tie it back. It’s not been properly washed in some time, and it feels stringy and gritty against your hands. You look briefly around the camp before walking down the little slope, taking particular care to evade the spore clouds from the timmask.

Picking up where you left off the day before, you follow the path and keep a keen eye on the ground. Without the banter from your friends, an eerie silence spreads in all directions around you.

But that’s how it’s been for months — just you, the road, and your nightmares.

You crouch down, studying the tracks in the silt. Pressing your fingers into the dirt, you find it to be dry and dusty this far away from the lake. The ground would not hold impressions for long.

I’m getting closer.

Something snaps in the murk, making you jump to your feet and study the surroundings, but the darkness is deep and obscure.

“Hello?”

The stillness doesn’t answer.

My mind is playing tricks on me again.

After adjusting your pack, you do your best to follow the trail. The Arcane Tower looms in the distance, a spire that seems to blend in with the gloomy atmosphere except for the burning braziers giving off their blue glow. A flurry of pebbles bounces down a nearby cliff, clattering against the stone. Perception heightens all your senses, your skin prickles, and your hair stands on end.

You’re being watched, tracked, and hunted.

Casting Misty Step, you vanish and reappear, swiftly descending into a crouch, shrouded in darkness. Frenzied red eyes and dirty, gaunt faces begin to appear with their fangs bared in deranged toothy grins that spell danger. They scent the air, and their eyes snap directly to your position, their fingers poised in front of them, ready to claw their prey.

They twitch and quiver, snarling and hissing like feral animals. You try to speak to them, but your words fall flat, muted by malnourishment and bloodlust. You search the faces for someone you recognize, but good Gods, they are filthy, cadaverous, and emaciated.

Hells. Are they suffering because I didn’t have the strength to end it when I could have?

You do the only thing you can and run. Their pursing footsteps thunder like a stampeding herd of Bulette. You sprint, pushing your body to careen over the uneven terrain faster, faster, faster until your muscles burn and cramp.

But it is not fast enough.

You scream for Astarion as your mind blanks momentarily from panic, but he’s not here; he’s never here, and he never will be again.

You trip.

Gods.

You trip on rocks and gnarled roots, scraping your knees and palms. The scent of blood in the air only sends them further into a frenzy, and bony hands grab at you from all sides. You try to pull away, but it’s too late. You are jerked forward, back, and side to side as they contend over you as if you are the last decaying scrap of carrion in all of Faerûn.

Numerous pairs of pointed fangs pierce into the flesh of your arms, legs, and neck. They are not gentle. Hells, they are not gentle at all, nothing like Astarion. This pain does not ebb into a pleasant, dull throb. It is sharp, with ice and fire rending your skin. They shake their heads, ripping and tearing, and their fangs sink through muscle and hit bone.

How many of them are there? Hundreds? Thousands?

Crimson eyes and hollow cheeks fill your vision, blotting out everything else. You thrash, you struggle, and you call for Astarion in high-pitched screams, but none of it is of any use.

You lash out at them with your magic, allowing the flames to envelop your skin, but they hold your arms and legs, grinding your limbs into the dirt. They burn, but they do not stop; they cannot stop. They are too starved and too crazed. They will drain you dry even as they char and blacken.

It’s over.

You will die alone in the dark.

A sheen of cool sweat dusts your skin, you grow cold, and the pain begins to recede into a cradling senselessness. You resign yourself to death as you walk the edge of it. When the darkness calls, you find that you want to heed it and tumble into the respite of your imminent demise. Your heart beats slower, slower, slower. It palpates in your chest, trying to pump blood that is no longer in your body.

Your eyelids are heavy, lashes fluttering as they beg to close. Death approaches you, seductive and charming, with outstretched arms. It is attractive and tempting. It whispers relief. Death is all embrace me and never be alone again. It says don’t be afraid. It beckons you to join it in sweet, all-encompassing release. You reach toward it, taking it’s hand, and allow yourself to be led away from the pain, the cold, the loneliness — all of it.

And you finally feel at peace.

A voice bellows, agitating the edges of the still serenity you’re sinking into, and fangs begin to rip from your arm and legs.

A man?

You blink, trying to clear your clouded vision. The voice urges you to move, to get up and run. You try, but the earth here is unable to swallow your blood quickly enough, and you slip and fall into the pools collecting on the ground. Your eyelashes flutter weakly as you squint to look at the man standing before you, hauling, and throwing the hysterical, blood-mad spawn away.

Astarion?

The feeble beat of your heart jolts with hope, and you turn away from death, releasing its hand and resisting its siren song. You turn away from the peaceful nullity it offers, walk out of its dark caress, and back into your body.

But all hope is expunged as soon as the shroud is removed from your sight. The blurred figure begins to take shape, and previously formless details sharpen.

No…

Not Astarion.

Never Astarion.

Though you do recognize him, your mind sluggishly tries to connect the familiarity with memories.

His name. Gods, you know it, but what is it?

Sebastian.

The spawn attack, throwing themselves at him, rendered insane by the smell of your blood. You try to push yourself up again, but you only make it to your knees, wavering unsteadily as your head spins and unconsciousness summons. Sebastian starts calling out over his shoulder.

“Get her out of here,” Sebastian barks to Leon who looks at you with brows furrowed in confusion. “Her blood is only making it worse. Dal and I can keep them busy long enough for you to get her away.”

Leon nods curtly, sprinting toward you and throwing you over his shoulder. It’s not a comfortable hold, as his bony shoulder juts into your stomach and lungs. The swaying makes your head throb sickeningly, and you fade in and out of consciousness.

Panicked voices rouse you back from the dark, but you cannot open your eyes. Your senseless fingers twist into your robe as you try to find a way to hold onto your wakefulness.

“What are we going to do with her?” A woman’s baffled voice quivers. “What in the Hells is she even doing down here?”

“If we don’t do something quickly, she’s going to die,” Sebastian says.

“Let her die,” another man’s voice drawls, heartless and cold. “I could use a snack.”

“Petras!” Leon scolds.

Your eyes finally begin to open while they debate your fate. You’re slumped against the stone wall of the Arcane Tower.

“You cannot seriously be suggesting we let her bleed out.” Sebastian mutters from the corner. “She killed Cazador. She saved our lives. She saved Astarion.”

“She-” Petras stomps with his fists balled at his sides. “ She stood by and watched while Astarion roasted me!”

Dal scoffs. “Are you still sour about that? Gods. Let it go.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head and jutting his chin out haughtily. “I don’t think I will, sister.”

“She means much to Astarion,” Leon sighs, rubbing his forehead. “We owe him to at least try and save her.”

Your voice is weak, barely even a whisper. “Have you seen or heard from him?”

All of their heads snap toward you with narrow eyes.

“Who?” Dal tries to smile, stops pacing, and comes to crouch by your side.

“Astarion. Have you seen him?”

Leon frowns. “No. The last time we saw him was at the Black Mass with you.”

You nod and let your head loll to the side. It takes every ounce of energy you have left, but you cast Detect Thoughts covertly.

You knew it was a long shot, but they are not lying.

“Let me die.” You sob. “Have mercy and let me die.”

When your eyes crack and creep open, darkness so thick that it presses in on you, being drawn into your lungs with every shallow, rapid breath, suffocating you from the inside and out, is there to greet you once more.

Death had been a mysterious, charming man, holding your hand, and gently walking you into that final repose, and you turned away from him and told him to wait.

You told Death himself to wait because you thought Astarion was there.

But he wasn’t.

He was never there.

Your eyes cry silent tears of mourning for the loss of the peace that was all but promised to you. Now, you must walk on the precipice of two existences. One in which you exist to hold everyone and everything together — a fearless leader, a lover, a light in the darkness — and the other where you watch yourself continually fall apart, crushed beneath the weight of it all.

Shutting your eyes so tight it hurts, you clench your teeth, and instead of shying away from the pain, running, as you so often do, you delve into it. You force your heart to ingest your fears, doubts, and suffering until it shatters, you run out of tears, and you let it hurt until that too stops.

A remarkable numbness circulates through your veins, like a wave cast out from your heart as it burst into fragments of all the things you used to be. There is no happiness or sadness, love or not, just a soft lull into emotionlessness, and you wade ever deeper into the treacle of frigid calm.

Somewhere, deep inside you, a voice whispers that this is worse, that this is not healing, that this is running.

You tell that voice to shut the fuck up.

You manage to slip out of the room without waking Astarion, pad through the silent manor, and go outside into the courtyard. The storm still rages on. Rain splatters against your face, thunder and lightning crack overhead, and the wet strands of your hair whip wildly in the wind. You stay as the rain drenches you to the bone, you’re shivering, and watch the wild orchestra; the chaos of it mirrors the turmoil of your own soul.

“Sorceress.” The voice comes from behind a locked, wrought-iron gate.

The voice should make you jump, scream, run, but it does not even spur the shattered remains of your heart to quiver in their grave.

“Aldous.”

“My master would like to parlay with you.” He sneers as if it physically pains him to say. “She believes a deal can be struck to avoid fatalities on both sides.”

“I don’t make deals with Vampire Lords.” You hiss, “You can tell your master I said to fuck off.”

“Kamena,” Aldous slinks closer to the gate. Can he come through the gate? Is it just houses they can’t walk into uninvited, or is this part of the house? “You did not even ask what her offer was. I assure you that you will want to hear it.”

Curiosity gets the better of you. “What’s she offering?”

“Safety, for you and yours, including the blood sucker,” Aldous hisses the last part, and it makes you smirk. It must just be killing him to offer safety to the man who drained him dry and left him to rot.

“Not interested,” you yawn, and stretch dramatically. “There are other ways to ensure our safety that do not rely on a deal with a Vampire Lord. I much prefer those ways.”

“What about this?” Aldous holds up a ring. A golden band with a large ruby, but it looks otherwise unremarkable.

“Jewellery?” You scoff, “Gods. Are you just fucking with me now?”

“I admit it appears rather unremarkable, but it is the Ring of the Sunwalker. It will allow your lover to walk in the sun again unharmed.”

Could it be true? Could an enchanted ring be mere feet away from you that will allow Astarion to see and walk in the sun again without fear?

“What’s to stop me from taking it from you right now?” You stalk toward the gate, fire ablaze in your palms.

“Ah-ah, Sorceress.” Aldous wags his index finger at you. He holds the ring in his palm, and you realize it’s an illusion. “My master is willing to give up such a unique treasure if you can come to an agreement.”

“Because she means to complete the Rite of Profane Ascension, the one I stopped Cazador from completing. She will be able to walk in the sun, and she won’t need it anymore. Correct?”

“Something like that.” Aldous smiles snake-like. “So, what do you say?”

“Astarion and my friends are guaranteed safety, and we get the ring, but what’s the catch?”

“We require an exact sketch of his scars to complete the contract as well as the incantation.”

You could end this. You could take the deal, take Astarion, and run as far from Waterdeep as you can, leaving it to its fate under an Ascended Vampire Lord.

How far would you go to ensure Astarion’s safety? Would you turn a blind eye to another Vampire Lord ascending and all the thousands of deaths that means?

Could you live with yourself?

“I will think about it.”

Thank you to all those who read/like/comment/follow/reblog/etc. I'm forever thankful for the support. I love reading your comments ❤️

Chapters Master List - Shadows of the Past

AO3: Crossposted

If you're interested, I also write fanfic for Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav - Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Small Notes:

Do we think Kamena is going to take the offer seriously?

I am curious. Would you consider it if it means safety for all your friends and Astarion, and a ring that allows him to walk in the sun unharmed, even if it means turning a blind eye to all that death?

#astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x you #astarion #astarion romance #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x mc #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #shadows of the past #astarion baldurs gate #astarion bg3 #astarion x oc #astarion spawn #spawn astarion

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rpgchoices · 1 year

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Astarion origin playthrough: what to expect/what is added

So I did a speed run on easy mode of the Astarion origin playthrough, which is where you choose Astarion as your main character. I wanted to write a bit about the extra lore the game gives and in general what is added (and what is lost).

I added some of the videos I have taken in case you are curious. Keep in mind that some videos are embedded, others are in link for my twitter or this blog.

SPOILERS. Just know that I went through the main plot points and the quests I know Astarion has dialogue about in a Tav game, so I did not do all of the quests/areas.

First of all... I don't think there is enough content to justify losing Astarion as a companion, as Astarion will be not voiced when you play as him, and in general you actually get less characterization.

ACT 1

Act 1 is the one with the most amount of extra content.

There are a few extra lines from the narrator about you standing in the sun for the first time, and your past.

You get a whole personal quest about hiding your vampirism or revealing it. There are different ways to reveal it:

You simply tell the companions (when you think about it the narrator will ponder about how much your companion trusts you and if they will react well)

You can use "bite" on an enemy when your companions are around (or on a companion)

You can be caught while you bite someone at night

The night bite happens after a nightmare, so you will also get a Cazador nightmare where Astarion hides/attacks/cowers before Cazador (video here). After the nightmare Astarion will think about finally being free and breaking one of Cazador's rules. You can decide to bite a companion or not.

If you do not bite a companion you will have no other option to do the bite at night, and the only reveals can happen in the other two modalities. Honestly, I am not sure how long you can drag it... pretty long, I think. One time I need to find out if you can go almost the whole game without revealing it.

If you tell a companion about it you will have to pass a check, but nothing bad happens if you fail, you just get a bad reaction (Gale yelled at me).

Other extra content from act 1 is about meeting the monster hunter. If you meet him pre-reveal, he will not say your name, btw. But it is pretty much the same as in Tav playthrough.

ACT 2

In act 2 you will have another nightmare (video here). This time you do not see what happens, you just see Astarion curling in his bed and thinking about his scars. This is to introduce the scars, as we have no idea he has them, and it will happen before you meet Raphael.

You can ask Raphael about the scars, but sadly none of your companions react.

Then the rest proceeds as usual. The sad part for me was meeting the drow lady who asks for a bit in exchange of a potion, and she is so different. She suddenly is very deferential, and asks quite nicely. Astarion can refuse or agree, but nothing happens, it is just almost a funny scene if he agrees and suddenly she tastes very bad. So yeah, you get the potion and no insight.

ACT 3

Act 3 is the one which has the same content but slightly different, as you will meet the spawns and Cazador from Astarion's pov.

When you meet the Gur outside BG3 the scene is exactly the same as in Tav play, minus Astarion's funny lines. When you meet Petras and Dalyria at the tavern, you get an extended scene.

You can just talk with them and convince your sister to tell you about the ritual, or you can show them that you can walk into the sun (by walking up to the window), or you can grab Petras and threaten him into the sun. If you fail to grab him, he will insult you and call you the runt of the litter. The whole scene clarified a bit that there is really a lot of animosity from Petras towards Astarion, and that Astarion was definitely the scapegoat of Cazador.

When Leon attacks you at night you also get more insight. First, you can see that if you try to explain, Leon is quite quick to hear you out, differently from Tav's playthrough. You will also find out that Cazador ordered them to take you home broken, so if you agree to go with them they will still attack you.

Another extra scene comes from the brothel one. I posted a video on my blog a couple of days ago, but basically you can talk with the drow twins and this line will pop up:

youtube

You can basically tell them that you used to be in their position too, but for you it was not consensual.

The rest of the game is the same.

The Cazador palace scenes are also the same, with Astarion commenting on the rooms. You will have extra from meeting Godey, of course. He will comment about Astarion needing to be broken and needed to respect the master. Video here.

When Astarion meets Sebastian you find out that he doesn't really immediately remember Sebastian's name. Astarion also has a "deception" check to tell Sebastian he really cared about him. You can see the video here. But the rest is pretty similar, same with meeting the children of the Gur, you can actually recognize their hunger and feel compassion for them.

When you meet with Cazador everything is pretty similar. It is interesting that you can tell him that you are an angel of vengeance to which he mocks you. This time you do not attack Cazador but he controls you immediately and you have to pass a constitution check to get free, otherwise Astarion will end up in the ritual (and the companions can free him).

Btw, you can see here all the options you have when you meet Cazador as Astarion.

Once the fight is over, Astarion can decide if he wants to complete the ritual or not. He can ask the companions to help him and I think they always do (borrowing their eyes) even if they disapprove. Interestingly, the narrator directly says "hey, this is a bad choice, no return", basically. You have three chances to stop for performing the ritual (also you can intimidate Cazador to beg for his life).

If you do not stop the ritual, your sister Dalyria will beg you to stop before dying.

Here I posted on twitter video options of the post-Cazador's fight.

As you can see, if you decide to stop the ritual the scene plays exactly the same and it is a rare one which is actually voiced by Neil. Your brothers and sisters will then come up to you, and as Astarion you will have to decide what to do with them. If you ask them not to feed on people, Petras will get a bit annoying and you will have to persuade/intimidate him. Then you decide what to do with the other spawns.

Interestingly, Dalyria gets really disappointed with Astarion if you decide to kill the spawns or trap them.

A very nice thing is that if you refuse to complete the ritual your companion will be SO SO PROUD OF YOU, especially Jaheira, Wyll and Karlach. You can see here Karlach in video, and here Wyll and Gale, and Jaheira here.

The rest plays exactly the same. There is no extra Astarion-specific content until the end.

If you play as lord vampire Astarion there is no specific end that I could find. I am not sure why, but basically in my playthrough I had not found the dragon, so technically I had not finished Wyll's quest. When Karlach was dying I could go to Avernus with her or be with her at her death... but after that nothing happens. My Astarion talked with Gale (romanced) and that was it.

Spawn Astarion ending instead has this extra scene which I found a bit ridiculous. The first part is heartbreaking, you see Astarion run from the sun and curl into a ball behind some shade, head on his knees. Then Karlach dies alone, because Astarion cannot be in the sun, and you get this extra scene of Astarion in Baldur's Gate killing/attacking a man and living his existence as a vampire. It is strange because in the pre-ending dialogue I chose to go to another city, and in the post ending I chose to go with Gale to Waterdeep, so it felt a bit random.

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