#Vitality vigour

[ayurvedaconsultant]

Vigour and Vitality

Fuel your performance with the power of Ayurveda!​ ​ Sandu Vimfix is your trusted companion in enhancing vigour and vitality. A non-hormonal vitalizer that enhances psychological and physical strength, it also helps in increasing your sustaining capacity and prevents early stamina loss. ​

[say-bye-to-ed]

Think what would she say when you will have long lasting rock hard wood?

Yes, now you can have rock hard wood even after age of 50! No, I am not talking about that "Blue Pill". This time color has been changed to RED. Yes and also No Harmful like "Blue", No side effects like "Blue" coz Red is totally Herbal and made by following GMP guidelines and is FDA approved! Yes, am talking about "RED BOOST" the Tibetan herbal formula to regain your lost wood and have multiple time, long lasting erections that you enjoyed in your 20's

Just think of her! and give it a TRY

[drsuresh-pandita]

Aizen Power Supplements:

A Game-Changer and best Charger for Men's Wellbeing

I've tried a fair share of men's health supplements over the years, some with little to no effect, others with side effects I wasn't comfortable with. So, when I came across Aizen Power Supplements, I was cautiously optimistic. What I discovered was a truly comprehensive and effective product that's become a key part of my daily routine.

Natural Ingredients for Overall Health

Unlike some supplements that focus solely on performance enhancement, Aizen Power boasts a blend of natural ingredients that promote overall men's health. We're talking things like Tribulus Terrestris, known for its potential testosterone-boosting properties, and Eurycoma Longifolia, which some studies suggest can improve libido and sperm quality. These, alongside other ingredients like Maca and Ginseng, create a well-rounded formula that addresses various aspects of male well-being.

Increased Stamina and Confidence

The most noticeable difference I've experienced since taking Aizen Power is a significant boost in stamina. Whether it's hitting the gym or keeping up with an active lifestyle, I feel energized and ready to tackle the day. This naturally translates into a newfound confidence in the bedroom. It's no longer a question of "if" I can perform, but rather, how much. Aizen Power has helped me approach intimacy with a newfound sense of ease and enjoyment.

Scientific Backing and Transparency

Aizen Power isn't just about catchy marketing. The product's website provides detailed information about each ingredient, outlining its potential benefits and scientific backing. This transparency is refreshing in an industry often riddled with misleading claims. It gives me peace of mind knowing exactly what I'm putting into my body and why.

More Than Just Performance

While the performance benefits of Aizen Power are undeniable, what truly sets it apart is its focus on long-term health. The inclusion of antioxidants and ingredients known to support the immune system suggests the creators understand that true vitality goes beyond just bedroom performance. It's about feeling your best all day, every day.

A Discreet and Convenient Solution

Aizen Power arrives in a discreet package, ensuring your privacy is respected. The capsules themselves are easy to swallow and haven't caused any digestive issues. Plus, the recommended dosage is just two capsules a day, making it a simple addition to my morning routine.

Overall, a Positive Experience

I can confidently say that Aizen Power Supplements have exceeded my expectations. They've become a staple in my wellness regimen, and I highly recommend them to any man looking for a natural and effective way to enhance their overall health and well-being. If you're seeking a boost in stamina, confidence, and overall vitality, then Aizen Power is definitely worth trying.

[agronayurveda01]

Agron #Vigron #Royal #capsule blend with the power of 100% pure, rare and extraordinary natural herbs which reduces fatigue for vigour & vitality increases stamina. Visit www.agronayurveda.com,call +91-8859000627 or Email us for bulk order or distributorship at remedies.agron@gmail.com

[new-health-products-in]

Vital Force Supplements

A New Lease on Life: My Experience with Vital Force Supplements

For years, I felt like I was constantly running on fumes. I was tired all the time, struggled to focus, and just didn't feel like myself. I tried a few different multivitamins, but nothing seemed to make a real difference. Then, a friend recommended Vital Force Supplements.

Natural Energy Boost

I decided to give Vital Force a go, and I'm so glad I did! Within a couple of weeks, I noticed a significant increase in my energy levels. I no longer needed that afternoon slump, and I could finally tackle my to-do list with renewed vigour. It wasn't a jittery kind of energy either, but a sustained sense of well-being that lasted throughout the day.

Improved Focus and Clarity

The brain fog that had plagued me for so long also started to lift. I found myself able to concentrate better at work and retain information more easily. This was a game-changer, especially during those demanding meetings and presentations.

Overall Wellbeing

Beyond the energy and focus boost, I've also noticed a general improvement in my overall well-being. My sleep patterns have become more regular, and I just feel more resilient in general. It's like Vital Force has given my body the nudge it needed to function at its best.

High-Quality Ingredients

What I appreciate most about Vital Force is their commitment to using high-quality, natural ingredients. I trust that I'm putting something good into my body, free from unnecessary fillers and artificial additives.

A Vital Part of My Routine

Vital Force Supplements have become an essential part of my daily routine. They've helped me reclaim my energy, focus, and overall well-being. If you're looking for a natural way to boost your health, I highly recommend giving them a try.

[drraos]

Yafrodex Capsules is a unique Ayurvedic Vitalizer to increase vigour and vitality. This ayurvedic ingredients help stimulate the body's natural vigour and vitality for more stamina and power in women.

[loveemagicpeace]

🍯Astrology Notes🍯

🪴Virgo rising- are very caring people. They take great care to ensure that you have everything you need, especially for your health. They will be able to tell you a lot about various medicines.

🌱Gemini rising- funny as fuck sometimes. They are people who talk and don't stop. You can discuss all possible topics with them if you want. They have a very open mind. But when it comes to being able to do something, sometimes they are not so open to new things. Let's say one difference between them and Sagittarius is that they are not traveling types and they don't like to travel that much.

💫You will feel most comfortable talking to people with whom you have the same compatible moon and mercury in your house. for example: mercury in the 9th house and the other person has mercury in the 1st house. With this you can see what topics you can discuss with others.

🪐People who has saturn in 1st house looks better when they are skinnier. Because their bones and body structure are more beautifully emphasized. Many times they can have weight problems(they can quickly lose weight from worry).

🍀Earth signs look very down to earth even when they are joking around. Even when they make a crazy joke, they still look down to earth.

🐚Scorpios quickly stop trusting you. You just have to do one thing and they are done trusting you. When they see that you are dishonest to them in any kind of way, they will not trust you anymore. Especially when they get to know someone from the beginning and notice that they didn't tell them something or hid something from them, and as I said, it could be just one small thing like say you're going to say you're eating pizza, but in reality you're eating hamburger. It is small lie. But this is sometimes also one of the reasons why pisces and scorpio don't go so well together. Because pisces tend not to say everything while scorpios are. Many times, pisces swim off into their fantasy world and sometimes get lost in it. Scorpios are always looking for the truth in everything. I have seen successful Scorpio/Capricorn couples many times.

🍁Fire signs are actually very active people. So you have to prove them love with actions. They want to see how much you are willing to do for them and how much you are willing to risk. When you go beyond your limits and do something really crazy for them, they will really appreciate it.

💷2nd house represents your money & 8th house where you invest money. The 2nd house reflects your underlying relationship to money and patterns around money are often deeply ingrained. With the Moon in Cancer here, your emotional wellbeing rises and falls with your bank balance, both of which may be subject to flux. You can be a rags-to-riches success, but with Saturn in the 2nd you might always feel poor, the millionaire who still buys the budget range at the supermarket. The 8th house is concerned with debt and our relationship to institutions which provide loans, mortgages, and overdrafts. Capricorn on the cusp of the 8th suggests paying your dues and insisting on a proper contract, Sagittarius here you can invest a lot in travel or even illegal things.

☀️The Sun is the central flame of our vitality. Acting according to your Sun sign and engaging in activities denoted by the house it occupies are important ways to increase your energy and vigour. For instance, with Sun in the 1st, you might need time alone in order to recoup your energies - the presence of others can drain you, Or with Sun in the 6th, maybe you like to spend spare time working in the garden or catching up on DIY. The Sun in Sagittarius might mean you like to explore far afield; if in Aquarius maybe you like to holiday with a group of friends. Sun in Scorpio- working in the shadows or researching something no one knows about is best for you. Sun in 7th house you like to devote a lot of your time to your partner.

🧸Some signs are naturally more work-oriented and some more suggestive of needing a slower pace. Capricorn (or its ruler Saturn) is often highlighted in the charts of anyone with a strong work ethic - by contrast, Leo, Libra, or Pisces might engender a bit more need for time off, to play, relax, or dream. Each Zodiac sign has its ideal gap year or holiday. The fire signs might favour adventure breaks, the air signs a chance to meet new faces, the earth signs maybe an eco-trip; and the water signs a sojourn by the sea or in quiet, restful places.

🩰The IC and the 4th house describe home, both as a physical place and as an inner sense of roots, safety, and foundation. If you have Jupiter in the 4th, it might feel natural to you to travel around or you might even choose to live abroad - or with Uranus here, you may experience many changes of home(many unexpected moves). With the Sun or Moon in the 4th, you might be so strongly connected to home and homeland that uprooting yourself will not be easy - your Sun here suggests your life revolves around home in some way, the Moon that your emotional wellbeing is closely tied to it. With Pluto you can feel that your home is intense and that you are always transforming through it (but it can also leave bad memories). With Mercury can mean that you change your home a lot. With Mars you may feel that your home is often chaotic or aggressive and you are looking for a home where you can become independent. With Neptune many times your home is confusing, strange. Many times you find your ideal place somewhere by the ocean. With Venus your home is loving, genuine and you have loving parents to whom you love to return. But it can involve a lot of money or love based on it. So you can feel that your parents never really appreciated you if you didn't have money.

🧚🏼‍♀️About Aquarius: I want to say one thing about them. I would say that if they really really want they will do it. But most likely they are independent people & lost souls sometimes. I think that they are scared of attachment. So that's why they are rather alone. They are looking for someone. Who will be goofy as they are.

💌I think Valentine's Day is for Libras. Libra is a sign of love, romance,beautiful things. And if any sign is inclined to & like to celebrate this day, it's definitely the Libra. But I find it a little strange that it is in Aquarius season.

💘Cupido is definitely a Sagittarius sign. Although people don't believe that Sagittarians are so loving and romantic, but they really are. Cupido shoots into the hearts of people who are meant to be together. If you hit a sagittarius deep in the heart with your love, then you can see the true side of them. Then you can see how loving they are.

🌅The people you attract into your life are usually connected to your North Node.For ex.: North node in Virgo in your 8th house- you will mostly be attracted to people who have a virgo placements, scoprpio placements, or pisces/ taurus placements.

🌊Pluto symbolizes power in whatever house it is. The power you feel in yourself and the people around you. Strong experience of feelings. For ex.: 5th house - privacy, romance, jealousy, strong emotions, strong happiness, attitude towards the things you do, you feel strong love, devotion. Obsession with changing partners maybe or affairs idk. 6th house - obsessed with perfection, control, work, high expectations. 7th house - you attract a lot of possessive partners, obsession with your partner, but at the same time you can be afraid to get into a relationship, mistrust. 8th house rulership- curious, constant control, secrets, power over your secrets, emotional transformations, many dark things, connection with birth and death, great interest in hidden things. 10th house - people can see you as a strong opponent, driven for a career, they can see you as a person who has a lot of secrets, you can present people with challenges. Big influence.

-Rebekah🧚🏼‍♀️🩰🌙

[vexwerewolf]

The success of Lower Decks can be attributed to two vital qualities:

The writers think Star Trek is awesome

BUT ALSO

2. The writers think Star Trek is fucking stupid

The show would not work if it did not constantly adhere to both these beliefs with equal fanatic vigour

[thequeer07puss]

Hera the anti-nurse

Hera is most often considered and worshipped as nurturing and kind (which she is), but it is also important to remember that she is also known as a goddess that can easily destroy the very beings that she raised, not in a malevolent manner, but as a means to make them grow as people, for it is only through challenge and hardship that one’s true strength shines brightest.

As such, Hera is both the nurse that covers her children from harm with her divine hand, and the anti-nurse that forces them to use their own strength to make them grow, like some mother birds who throw the very babies that they tenderly raised off of cliffs to force them to fly.

A prime example of Hera as a nurse and an anti-nurse is Zeus’s most famous child, Heracles, who suckled on Hera’s very own breast for a moment in his infant years. The Queen of Heaven, recognising the strength of this infant who bit her breast while he was suckling, thought that he would grow up to do great things, yet tested his worth vigorously to make sure that her motherly heart was not deceiving her, so she induced madness in his heart and forced him to power through the weight of the iniquity of his family’s murder until he proved himself worthy to enter Olympus (this is also related to the quest for legitimacy that Heracles never asked for, as suggested by this post). This demigod hero, named for Hera’s glory, fulfilled his purpose by proving her right in her assertion that he would succeed, and was rightfully rewarded and immortalised by marrying into Hera’s home through her daughter Hebe, the goddess of youth, of vitality, of eternal valour, vigour, and virtue.

Hera is a goddess that incarnates the light and dark side of motherhood and rulership, also worshipped as a goddess of military power in some areas of Ancient Greece, and as a result it makes sense that she would act as both a shield against evil and a sword that pierces her devotees in the gut after giving them the means to heal a wound. “Hera the anti-nurse” also has the bonus of sounding metal, especially with other epithets like Queen of Heaven and Protector of Men.

[agronayurveda]

Agron #Vigron #Royal #capsule blend with the power of 100% pure, rare and extraordinary natural herbs which reduces fatigue for vigour & vitality increases stamina. Visit www.agronayurveda.com,call +91-8859000627 or Email us for bulk order or distributorship at remedies.agron@gmail.com

[agronayurveda01]

#musligem #sexualweakness #vigour #vitality Agron Remedies

[talonabraxas]

Aura colours and their meaning.

The aura is an extension of a person’s personality and emotional, mental and physical landscape, so it will change from day to day. It can be affected by external factors as well as the general disposition and character of the individual.

There are no hard and fast rules as to what these visual variances ‘mean’, as, with all psychic practices, it depends on the intuition and knowledge of the reader. But there are certainly common themes. For instance, those who practice yoga tend to have a ‘still’ aura or people with serious illness have a fainter aura than someone vital. Moreover, auras tend to have a ‘texture’ to them. They may be sparkly, treacly, in lines, waves or arcs.

Below, I have given a rough guide to how you might interpret auric colours only, but it is no mean a fixed manual:

The Aura Colors Meaning Chart:

Red ~ Pertains to circulation, the heart and the physical body. In its higher aspect, it is an indicator of a healthy ego, stability and being strong-willed. In its lowest aspect, red energy can give way to anger, unforgiving, anxiety or nervousness.

Orange ~ points to the reproductive organs and feelings. It is the colour of vigour, vitality and enthusiasm. In its higher aspect, orange energy shows creativity, confidence and gregariousness. In its lowest aspect, it can give way to stress and addictions.

Yellow ~ represents life energy – qi or prana. The colour of optimism, awakening, inspiration and intelligence. It has no lower aspects.

Green ~ connects to the heart centre and lungs. It is the comfortable and healthy colour of nature, representing growth, balance, healing, and depicting a love for all sentient beings and Mother Earth.

Blue ~ Pertains to the throat and the thyroid and is therefore indicative of communicators. Writers, public speakers and linguists will often have a lot of blue in their auric field. It is also a cool, calm and collected energy.

Indigo ~ Pertains to the third eye and therefore is a colour of deep feelings, intuition and sensitivity.

Violet/Lavender ~ Relating to the crown, pineal gland and the nervous systems. It is the most sensitive colour in the aura. People with a lot of violet in their auras are usually highly artistic, psychic, intuitive, visionary and magical.

“The aura is an extension of a person’s personality and emotional, mental and physical landscape, so it will change from day to day.”

Other Aura Colours:

Turquoise ~ is associated with the immune system and usually found in the auras of healers and therapists. It is a sensitive, compassionate colour.

Silver ~ pertains to spiritual and physical abundance. A lot of bright silver in an aura may indicate a spiritual awakening or financial gain.

Gold ~ typical of divine protection and enlightenment. This colour points towards strong spiritual and universal guidance, intuition, wisdom and inner peace.

Black ~ points towards pulling, capturing and transforming energy. It can indicate unreleased anger, grief or health problems. It also shows an unforgiving nature (to themselves and others) and possible past-life issues that remain unresolved.

White ~ linked to protection and deflecting other energies. Flashes of white within the auric field often signal that angels are nearby. As with most associations with white, it symbolizes purity, truth and a healthy individual.

Earth Tones/Brown ~ Colours of soil, wood, minerals and plants highlights very grounded energy and someone who works with the earth, such as a gardener or farmer. However, a more brownish hue can point to greediness, self-absorption or ignorance in its lowest aspect.

Rainbow ~ auras with stripes of colour emanating as beams of light from the hands, heart, or head indicate someone who is a healer.

Solar Aura Peter Solarz

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 20: I Forgive You

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 6.1k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

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

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

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

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

You drink, drink, drink. 

Deeply. Greedily. Exuberantly. 

The spluttering sounds vaguely tickle your ears. They push you closer to the edge of feral hysteria, where logic and reason cease to exist, and all that’s left is an impulsive drive to kill and consume. If the prey can sputter, it has more lifeblood to give. You bite down harder. Legs thrash, thudding against the ground and echoing off the walls. Hands and fingers claw at your skin and tug at your clothes, but you are too far gone to care or register the increasingly weakening calls of your name. 

You are an animal. 

A creature. 

A monster. 

You will drink until there is not a drop left, then perhaps you will find something else to drink because you are so tired of the maddening pain of being hollow and hungry. The thirst is unquenchable and relentless. If you could get it to stop, even just for a little while, maybe you could think clearly. 

There is so much relief that comes as the creamy, coppery tide spills into your stomach. The aching kinks in your muscles that made your toes curl and your fingers rheumatic unsnarl, the vicelike grip of raw hunger relinquishes its agonizing hold on your stomach, and the gauzy film that has been muddling your thoughts starts to lift.

It feels resplendent. 

As the blood lights up every neural pathway in your brain, you revel in the sensation of being reunited with your long-lost life. It’s all too easy to tune out the battering against your chest, the fingernails that gouge at your skin, and the pleas that fall mute in your ears. 

You want to live, and nothing fills you with vitality like the radiant syrup that’s pulsing within the veins and vessels of living creatures. 

The resistance is failing now; fingers fumble at your clothes with less and less vigour. The blood that once spurted into your mouth like a fountain with every heartbeat is coming slower, only seeping like a babbling brook instead of a raging river. 

It irritates you because you’re still not satisfied. Is there enough blood in the whole of the world to quell your appetite? 

No. 

Nothing will ever be enough. 

“Stop.” 

The directive slices through your body like an axe through flesh, poaching your control and handing it away without a fight. You cannot even swallow the blood in your mouth, and it drools out from between your lips and down your chin. 

“Stand and back away.” 

You stand as if there are strings attached to your limbs, pulling you up and forcing you to take stiff steps backward like a puppet. 

“Kneel.” 

This time the command is not silent but in Astarion’s voice, making your ears quiver. Your knees fold in on themselves and hit the stone hard beside the cage door. The red miasma begins to clear from your mind, and your vision pulses back into focus as your bloodlust fades. In an instant, you’re all too aware of the gore dripping from your chin and the red slickness coating your hands and forearms. 

You’re dragged back into a harsh reality. Your clothes are sodden, sticky, and clinging to your body. Your arms are in shreds, full of valley-like gouges, and your mind clears enough to fully comprehend what you’ve done. Tears sting the back of your eyes like hot knives, but you do not have the authorization to shed them.

Shadowheart lies motionless on the floor, her skin ghostly, and her eyes glassy and corpse-like. Her chest jumps erratically, and her heartbeat is barely audible. 

“Illyria,” Astarion says in a voice like warm honey. “Look at me.” 

Your neck twists without your consent, the binds of compulsion holding fast. When your eyes fall on Astarion, he’s as close to the door as he can possibly get while restrained. In the dimness of the enclosed cell, you cannot work out which version of him you’re looking at. 

“Is it you?” You ask, though it is a terribly stupid question. He will say anything to be set free. 

“It’s me, sweetheart,” he nods, and you feel the connection invite you once again. You yearn to allow it to open and flood you, but you refuse, afraid that this is a trick. Astarion’s mouth downturns slightly at the rejection. “If I let you go, will you be able to control yourself? Shadowheart needs help quickly.” 

“No!” You shout. If you get close to her, you know you will not be able to resist the crimson that still seeps from the wounds in her neck. “No. Don’t.” 

“Then I need you to let me out of here so I can help her.”

It’s a risk, but Shadowheart is fading quickly. If you let him out, and it’s the wrong him, you both die, but if you don’t let him out at all, she dies regardless. There’s only one way you can know for sure. 

You reach out to the kinship, and it emanates through you like a sunbeam spreading warmth through a crystal prism, illuminating every facet of your being. You are sculpted from the same celestial clay, falling into each other with an unspoken harmony that only the two of you know. 

After so long without it, the rush of the coalescence of your two beings becoming one borders on overwhelming. It takes your body and mind a moment to assimilate the new sensations, like an agitated lake that ever-so-slowly returns to its placid state. 

He’s finally back. 

You whisper the password to dispel the Arcane Lock, and the light blue barrier shimmers and fades. 

“Get the keys for the locks and unlock my restraints,” he commands. 

Your body complies, getting up stiffly, moving out into the hallway past Shadowheart's unconscious body, and into the desk where you stashed the keys. You move robotically as you unlock the cell and then the padlocks. When the silver manacles pop open, Astarion winces and rubs his wrists.

“Get out of the cell, and don’t move,” Astarion instructs. 

He’s long gone, moving faster than your eyes can perceive, before you can even take the three steps it takes to vacate the cell. You stand, still as a statue, staring at the rough grey bricks that make up the walls of the kennels. Shadowheart’s increasingly slowing heartbeat and ragged breaths are barely discernible under the whir of her blood running through your veins. 

“I’m so sorry. Gods. I’m so fucking sorry, Shadowheart.” 

Astarion returns faster than you thought possible. He drops to his knees by Shadowheart, pulls her into his lap, and uncorks what you recognize as a Supreme Potion of Healing, pouring it into her mouth a little at a time so she can swallow. 

The colour starts to return to Shadowheart’s skin slowly, and her heart beats stronger with every concurrent pulse. She coughs, sputtering wetly, and groans in Astarion’s arms. When her eyes crack open, she jerks away from him and falls limply to the floor with wide, scared eyes. 

“It’s me.” Astarion holds up his hands innocently and backs away from her sharp glower. He uses his foot to nudge another Potion of Healing her way.

Shadowheart grabs it with frail fingers, trying to uncork it with her teeth, but her muscles are still too weak. She scoffs when she has to hand the bottle to Astarion to open for her. 

Her whole body shakes with the shock of blood loss as she pushes herself up, using the wall at her back as a brace. “Is it him?” 

“Yes,” you confirm. “If it wasn’t, we would both likely be dead already.” 

Astarion looks around the kennels dismally with glances that dart in all directions, as if he thinks Cazador might saunter in at any moment. A tic works in his jaw, and his forehead puckers. You can feel the fear in him as it emanates through the bond. 

“What have you done to her?” Shadowheart mumbles weakly, nodding toward you. 

“I compelled her.” Astarion stares at the cage with ruby-red eyes, a monument to suffering and woe. 

“Well, stop,” Shadowheart snaps in your defence. 

“No. It’s okay, Shadowheart. I’ve asked him to do this.” You say, hauntingly calm. “Can you walk her home, Astarion?” 

“Huh?” His eyes finally focus on you, but he looks a million miles away. “Yes, but what about you?”

He offers Shadowheart a hand. She takes it tentatively, and he pulls her to her feet and steadies her. She bats his hands away defiantly with a scowl, and he rolls his eyes at her obstinacy. 

You’re covered head to toe in dried blood and can’t go walking through the city in such a state, but there is a fix for that. “Compel me to cast invisibility and return to the manor. I want to go home.” 

“I—” Astarion closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Cast invisibility on yourself and go to the manor. Once you are there, tell me, and I will rescind the compulsion.” 

“Astarion, wait.” He turns, and you nod toward the navy shroud. “I want to take that, but I need you to tell me to.” 

Astarion glances at it and looks almost embarrassed. Your orders change without him needing to even say anything. You bend down, pick up the threadbare fabric, and start your invisible march toward home. 

Astarion rescinds the compulsion over you instantly when you enter the manor. It’s dark inside, and the air harbours an unpleasant stagnancy, as if it stopped circulating the moment no one was here. You stare at your hands in horror, dried blood and skin under your fingernails.

You rush to the bedroom.  Water gushes out of the tap into the basin, and you scrub your hands vigorously until they are red, bleeding, and  you’re  sloughing off your own skin, trying to replace her blood with your own. Your hands shake when you look at them.  It’s  not enough; you can still feel the warmth and slickness of her blood like a stain.  

You scream in sheer loathing, a jarring, crestfallen sound that penetrates the cumbersome silence of the manor. If only you could cease existing like this stupid mirror declares with your lack of reflection. 

You peel your soiled clothing off as quickly as you can, throwing it into the fireplace and incinerating the evidence of your sin, but nothing will erase what you’ve done. 

If you cut yourself open and let her blood drain out of you, would you feel better then?

Climbing into the bath, you turn on the water until it’s scalding, curl up into a ball in the corner, your legs hugging tightly to your chest, and sob. The stinging of the water lapping at your maimed back hits like an avalanche and brings more tears to your eyes. You grit your teeth and focus on feeling the pain because you deserve this, don’t you? 

Maybe Astarion was right when he said you deserved everything he did to you. It was you who led him down this path — you who lent him your eyes so he could carve up Cazador and usurp the Rite. The only reason you ever regretted it was because you lost him. You tell yourself that you should feel guilty over the thousands of souls you damned for love, but truthfully, they would not even cross your mind if not for the consequences. 

Who were they to you? 

Nobodies, and they remain faceless nobodies. 

The weight of what you’ve agreed to descends on your shoulders like the burden of a planet now that your mind isn’t addled with hunger and exhaustion. How are you going to tell Astarion?

Oh, it’s nothing, my love. I just put my soul on the line, agreed to kill an archdevil, and now have control of hellfire that could kill me if I actually put it to use. But good news! If we can pull it off, you can keep your power and your sanity. 

Good Gods.  

The only illumination in the room when Astarion enters is the orbs of fire circling your head in the shape of soaring dragons. They swoop and arc in an ever-changing formation. Your eyes snap to him, and you send the orbs soaring back to relight the candles and fire. 

Astarion looks more bone-weary than you ever remember seeing him, with dark circles under his eyes and ruddy, blistered wrists. He strips his dirty shirt off, tossing it to the floor with unusual carelessness. 

“How long this time?” Astarion asks, standing near the fire with his hand braced on the wall. 

“A week, give or take a day or two.”

“Gods.” Astarion rubs his bloodshot, tired eyes and glances at his wrists. “Silver is still effective, hm? Good to know, I suppose,” he muses. He points at the bath. “May I?” 

You gesture toward the water flippantly, and he undresses and wades in. A quiet, awkward silence hangs over the two of you for some time. 

“What happened?” He finally asks, his eyes bleeding with sorrow and shame. He smooths his wet hair back. “I mean, I know what happened, but after I lost.” 

“I led you to the palace, the kennels... I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

“Don’t be. You did what you had to do. That cage… I put that in there, didn’t I? I saw it when I came back, but... Why did I do it?” 

“I think you can probably guess why he did that,” you sigh, combing your fingers through your hair. “Can we not do this tonight?” 

“Yes. Of course.” Astarion nods. “Can you pass me the soap?” 

You turn to grab the soap bar, but his pained, breathy gasp makes your eyes jerk toward him. Shit. You turned your back to him, and now his eyes are moored to whatever it was he sliced into you. You suppose he was going to see it one way or another, but you meant to save him this pain until it was at least a little further healed.

“Fuck.” He sobs, tears spilling from his eyes, and his hand is poised at his mouth. “By the Gods, Illyria. I don’t know what to say. I— Gods. What have I fucking done? What is wrong with me? I do not want to be that person. I do not want to hurt you.” 

“I know,” you murmur, too tired to even cry at this point. 

“Do you hate me?” He asks, his voice so small and so pained that it’s like a vice around your heart. “I—I’m a monster.” 

If nothing else, the stark contrast between the two sides of him makes it relatively easy to separate and compartmentalize the two. In your perspective, they remain too separate people. You would be lying if you said you were not a little frightened of those hands that held that dagger like a chisel; the hands that scored your flesh with Gods knows what. 

But when you look into his eyes, you remember that this man has spent centuries having his body taken over and used as a pawn, just as it is now. You never blamed him for the atrocities he committed under Cazador’s rule, and you cannot bring yourself to blame him for the actions of another wearing his skin. 

“I don’t hate you, Astarion.” You take slow steps toward him. He looks confused for a moment, his eyes wide as saucers. “I just want to save what’s left of you while we still can. May I?” You nod your head toward his lap.

He nearly lurches forward to grab you, but you’ve been feeling that longing in him the whole time — the desperate need to hold and be held. Astarion catches himself, sits back down, and outstretches his arms. Crawling into his lap, he’s cautious not to touch your wounds, and you lean into him with your head pressed under his chin, safe at last.

“I didn’t think you would want to be close to me after what happened.” Astarion’s voice is as knotted with emotion as you’ve ever heard it. He takes your hand, bringing it up from the water, and his fingers trace the band of the ring. “I didn’t think you would want to be with me at all.”

“Does everyone think me so exceptionally fragile?” You bring your head up to look at him. He still has tears welling in his swollen eyes, falling occasionally down his cheeks. You wipe them away with the back of your index finger. “I never once judged you or was scared of you because of the things Cazador forced you to do. This is much the same for me. It may have been your hands, but it wasn’t you.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he murmurs. “I do not deserve you.”

“That’s enough, Astarion. You deserve it all. Happiness, comfort, to live, and love. We both deserve all those things,” you remind him. You take his face in your hands. “I love you because I just fucking love you. The moment you tossed me into the dirt and looked into my eyes, I loved you, and every moment since, even when it was painful to love you, I loved you still. I love you so much that it’s terrifying, because I know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I love you, only you, now and forevermore, and you deserve to be loved like that. Alright?”

A small smile breaks through his beautiful lips, and he takes your hand, kissing your palm and interlocking your fingers. “Thank you. Y— You still want to marry me, yes?”

You huff in exasperation. “I just finished telling you that I will love you forever, and that’s your question? Obviously. You promised me eternity, Astarion, and I’ve never known you to be a liar.”

“Well, in that case,” Astarion swallows and takes a big breath. “If you’ll indulge me, I would like to marry you before we descend into the Hells and likely get ourselves killed.”

“You’re agreeing to go to the Hells with me?” Your mouth drops open. “Truly?”

“Mhm.” Astarion nods. “I will go along with your insane little plan on the condition that you marry me before we leave. If we are to die down there, I would at least like to die as husband and wife.”

Do you tell him? He’s agreeing to go to the Hells, but he doesn’t have the whole story any longer. If you’re going to tell him, now is your chance, but you just got him back, and it didn’t go well for you last time. No. You’ll have to tell him eventually, but right now, you just can’t bring yourself to utter the words. You lock all thoughts, all memories, and everything else away behind the guard that will keep Astarion from seeing it through your connection, as long as you’re careful.

“Can it just be you and I?”

Astarion’s brows furrow. “You don’t want all our friends there? Drinks? Dancing? A grand soiree?”

You've never been the kind of woman who fantasized about a big, extravagant wedding and a white ballgown—let alone one at all. In fact, the idea of having all those beating hearts and insincere congratulatory smiles sounds awful.

“If you want that, I understand, and we can, but we could have all of that when we get back from the Hells alive with you safe.”

Astarion glances away, looking blankly at the water. “Are you embarrassed of me?”

“Astarion. No. Don’t be foolish. If anything, I don’t want all those people to see you looking so positively mouthwatering. You might have to compel me not to eat everyone in attendance.”

“I do look rather dashing in a suit, do I not?” He chuckles. “I think I would rather enjoy an intimate affair.”

You comb his wet hair back and out of his eyes. “Me too.”

“Your wounds need to be cleaned.” Astarion murmurs, making you twist slightly so he can get a look at them. Every time he sees them, the emotional link between you is inundated so heavily with regret and despair that it actually feels like it weighs your mind down. “They aren’t healing well.”

“Is that an offer to help, or are you just stating the obvious?” You tease, trying to get him to lighten up.

“How can you be so casual about this?” Astarion snaps, unable to conceal his own outrage. His anger is not so much at the flippant ease with which you have shrugged this off; it’s at himself for doing it in the first place. “How can you so easily just forgive me and move on after I did this to you? You should hate me. You should be terrified of me.

“Why?” You retort coldly. Patience is wearing thin here. You do not have time, nor do you care to lament on your skin. It will heal, and what’s done is done. Where will being angry or sad over it get you? Nowhere, so what’s the point? If you want to grieve it, you have an eternity to do it later, so why is he being so insistent on this? “Would it make you feel better about it if I punished you for it? Is that what you’re looking for, Astarion?”

“Yes.” His voice is full of desperation. He takes your arms, almost shaking you, but it’s just his entire body that’s trembling violently. “Punish me. Hit me. Burn me. Stab me. I don’t fucking care, but do something.”

Straddling him, you take your face in his hands, sweeping your thumb over his cheek, dip your head, and kiss him tenderly. “I forgive you.” 

Moonlight courses through the windows of their bedroom, casting a spectral-like glow across the floors and furniture. Though he is exhausted physically and mentally, he cannot seem to fall into his trance. He fears that if he lets his mind rest, it will not be him who she wakes up to.

Illyria trances peacefully beside him, though in an awkward position on her side so as not to touch the half-healed portrait of his cruelty that will be etched into her skin for eternity. Even now, those wounds still seep, dotting her shirt with little pinpoints of blood.

How could he do that to her? How could any version of him want to do that to her?

Astarion doesn’t want to wake her. She is more exhausted than even him, so he moves stealthily out of bed to go pace the halls of the manor, where he can hopefully work out some of this restlessness.

Coming back to himself in that cage had been a chilling experience, with the sting of silver wrapped around his wrists and sapping his strength. He’d recognized the smell of the room right away, even under the smell of Shadowheart and Illyria’s blood. For a moment, he was sure Cazador was going to enter and make him pay for usurping the Rite. He almost didn’t pull himself together quickly enough to save the Cleric.

The horror that he would take Cazador’s torments and mimic them makes his stomach churn, and he stymies the dry heaving. Is what’s left of his soul really all that stands between him and that vile version of him? Could he be worse than Cazador? Would he be?

He hates that the answer to that is yes.

Astarion leans his forearm on the wall, looking out the window absently, while his mind revolves in a spiral of unsettling thoughts. He’s agreed to go to the Hells with her. Truthfully, he feels he has little choice. It’s either this or become what he spent centuries loathing and killing or enslaving the one person he’s ever truly cared for.

If she were not at risk, he might just let himself go and accept the consequences of his actions. Two centuries of fighting to survive, only to gain his freedom and have to fight to survive again.

He is tired of fighting for his life.

If it comes down to it, will he renounce the powers the Rite has gifted him? Could he say goodbye to the sun and hello again to the pain of hunger and darkness?

If it means never hurting her like that again, he has no choice.

“Astarion?” Her voice makes him jump and whirl. She’s gotten good at sneaking up on him, and he finds himself proud of his little bride. Half of her face is hidden by shadows, and the other half is illuminated by moonlight. She yawns adorably. “Are you okay?”

“But of course, my love.” He declares and offers her a quick, easy smile that he hopes will appease her worries.

She cants her head at him with a lopsided grin. “Come on, Astarion. What’s troubling you?”

“Am I truly that easy to read, sweetheart?” She would see through any disguise he tried to decorate himself with.

She pads over to him, her nightdress swaying about her upper thighs, and taps on his temple. “You can’t exactly hide it from me, Astarion.”

“Ah,” he says, smiling slightly. “I suppose not.”

Illyria leans into him with her hand splayed across his bare chest, peeking up at him through thick lashes. “What’s bothering you?”

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, being careful with her back, and kisses the top of her head. “I’m just restless. Sitting in a cage for a week will do that to a man.”

“Restless, are you?” She raises an eyebrow, the beautiful cracked crimson of her eyes shimmering like polished gems. Her hand starts to wander around his body. Gentle, tentative touches to see how he will react. “I could think of a few things that might help relieve that restlessness.”

His body responds to her proximity, the way she leans her soothing weight into him, and those tender touches. The blood rushes to his cock.

Astarion’s shock is evident in the way his brows try to climb his forehead. “Surely, you’re not suggesting?”

“Sex, Astarion.” She laughs, shaking her head. “I’m suggesting sex, but if you’re not feeling up for it, you only have to say the word. You know that, right?”

“I know.” He leans down, hooking her chin with his index finger and guiding her eyes up. He needs to make sure she actually wants this, because he cannot fathom how she could after what he did to her. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

She grins mischievously, pushing him, forcing him to take steps backward until the back of his legs hit the settee, and then she shoves him hard. He could easily have stayed on his feet, but he lets her push him around. Illyria climbs atop him, straddling him.

He grasps her hips as her weight settles on him. Astarion’s hips hitch up involuntary, pressing his length into her with a grunt. She grinds against him, eliciting a gravelly moan from him.

Gods. She really still does love him, doesn't she? Even after everything he’s done to her, including all the things he did that he cannot even remember, she still wants him.

Illyria rolls her hips slowly over his cock, spreading her slick desire along his length and seeking out her own pleasure. It doesn’t bother him. In fact, he quite enjoys watching her like this; her eyes are heavily lidded and sensual, moaning when her clit drags across his cock.

She runs her fingers through his hair and down the ridge of his ear, which never fails to drive him fucking mad. A breathy hiss is expelled from his lungs, and he grabs her hips and forces them to sink further with a growl.

“You’re truly okay?” He asks breathily, the yearning starting to overtake his self-control. “With me? With us?”

“I’m really okay,” she smiles, leaning down to kiss him with such sweet devouring that he’s not sure what to do with his hands or where to touch because he wants all of her.

He can’t resist anymore, and his fingers curl into her hair, and he kisses her back with the same fervour. His heart begins to pound, and the sensation of the slick of her folds still stroking him sends another thrill down his spine. He helps her carefully take off the nightdress and throws it aside before their lips crash together again.

Illyria reaches down, stroking his soaked length, lifting her hips, and slipping the swollen, pink head of his cock in and out shallowly. She keeps him at the cusp of her entrance, teasing him until he’s whimpering, trying to grab her hips and shove them down.

“Ah-ah,” she tuts. “Eager, aren’t you?”

He can feel her wetness dripping down his shaft, further driving him mad. “Love,” he hisses. “Sit on my cock, or I swear-"

Astarion feels himself sink to the hilt in one rapid move, the sudden tightness around him bringing forth a surge of pleasure, making his head fall back and blanking his brain. “Gods. You’re so fucking perfect.”

His hips begin to roll, fucking her gently in a rocking motion. She squeezes him as he increases the pace of his thrusts, hands on her hips, making sure the angle is perfect to drag himself against her ridges and hit her spot.

She meets his thrusts, grinding to match his pace with her hand pressed against his chest over his heart. His eyes rake over every inch of her, the scars on her neck that mark her as his, the curve of her waist, and the lines of muscles that ripple beneath her skin as they flex with every move. She is the most breathtaking thing to ever walk this earth, and she’s all his, and he’s all hers. Now and forevermore.

“Fuck, Astarion,” she whimpers, and she looks at him open-mouthed and adoring.

Astarion’s hand drifts down her chest, running down her belly, and moves between her legs, finding her clit. He rubs slow circles around the border of the sensitive flesh, which instantly rewards him with a whimper, and her cunt tightens around him to the point it’s borderline painful.

“Do you love me?” He murmurs uncertainly and is desperate for reassurance. She is the only thing that burns in the darkness he gets lost in. She completes parts of him that are raw and sharp, her softness and fluidity rooted inside him, and she soothes that latent beast.

Her eyes open abruptly, likely feeling his unease in their bond. He doesn’t try to hide it anymore. She takes his face in her hands. “I’ve loved you since I met you, and nothing will ever change that. I will love you for eternity and well beyond,” she says in breathy pants.

His cock throbs inside her the moment she says those words, his breath catching in his throat. Astarion will never tire of hearing that beautiful hymn in his ears. A whimper leaves his lips.

She smiles — one of those smiles she only saves for him — unashamed of her fangs and kisses his cheek. Her hips increase their pace, and his thoughts scatter completely. He moans loudly, his hips jittering here and there as the tension starts to coil in his belly.

The rhythm at which she lifts and slides back down around him grows increasingly intense, and with it comes his own desire to chase his climax and empty himself into her. At this rate, he will not make it.

“I’d like to try something. I’ll need to take us back upstairs to bed.”

She slows, cocking her head at him. “I’m intrigued. Lead on.”

Astarion moves slowly, grabbing under her thighs and letting her wrap her arms around his neck. He effortlessly carries her back to their room.

He lays down on the bed, patting his chest. “Lay down on me and allow me to please you, yes? I will be cautious of your back.”

Illyria leans forward with no hesitation, kissing his chest and brushing her soft lips against him. He manages to find a way to hold her in a one-armed embrace that avoids what he’s done to her.

“If it gets too much, tell me,” he purrs.

With his feet firmly planted flat on the bed, Astarion begins to pulse his hips up into her, intensifying his pace incrementally until he’s snapping his hips hard and fast. His pulse races from the effort. His fingers work in harmony, sweeping and gliding in the way that makes her see stars.

“ Shit. Astarion,” she gasps, her body limp in his arms, engulfed totally in his ministrations. “Y-You. H-Hells. S-so good.”

Gods. He can feel her pleasure through the bond, and it only amplifies his. “I—I love you,” he whispers to her.

Astarion continues his upward pistoning until his own climax threatens to overpower him, and he has to bite his lower lip to keep his composure. It doesn’t work. He stills for a moment, taking deep breaths and trying to focus on anything else. His cock is throbbing, begging for him to resume. When he opens his eyes, they meet Illyria’s, her breathing shattered, her knowing smile understanding why he needed a break.

She bites her wrist and brings it to his lips. “We wouldn’t want it to go to waste, would we?”

He laps at her with a low growl and then begins sucking, resuming his thrusting, hammering into her mercilessly. Astarion feels her orgasm near. Her fingers curl into his chest, her body tenses and trembling in his arms, her breathing uneven.

Hells below. Her blood in his mouth is an ambrosial divinity he will cherish until the end of time. The sensation of his cock stretching her, the ridges of his head dragging over her walls, and her sex increasingly tightening around him is going to throw him over the edge before her.

With a quick twerk of his hips, he changes the angle just slightly so that he’s more in line with the sensitive bundle of nerves inside her. The way she cries out with each strike lets him know he’s aligned himself just right.

A couple more powerful pumps, and Illyria comes, crying out loudly. Her body shudders, her back arching, and she slows his pace to drag out the remaining aftershocks of ecstasy. He revels in the feeling of her walls squeezing and clenching him, almost too much.

He relinquishes her wrist and rains small kisses on the top of her head and forehead. He rubs her arm until she quiets. She looks up at him, confused. “You didn’t come. Why?”

His cock is still buried in her, throbbing and switching insistently. He smiles down at her softly. “I’m right behind you, little love. I wanted to make sure you were done. Kiss me, will you?”

She shifts, moulding her lips to his. His hand cups her cheek, and he once again begins pounding into her dripping cunt, driving himself into her fast and deep. It’s not long before his own climax consumes him, and he comes with a series of low growls and grunts. His eyes shut, his hips stuttering out of tempo as he spills inside her in an intense wave of pleasure.

When his brain starts to function again, he finds her stroking his sweat-damp hair back with tired but adoring eyes. He glances at her back to make sure he didn’t harm her further, but it looks, well, terrible, but no worse than before.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she says softly with a yawn. “I missed you quite terribly.” She taps his temple. “Missed this. I feel... incomplete somehow without you now.”

“Did you miss me or the sex?” He teases lightheartedly.

She shrugs and taunts him back. “Both, I suppose. The sex is fantastic, after all.”

“So you enjoyed that?” Astarion asks.

There are wisps of doubt niggling his mind. Was I too rough with her after what I did? Would it remind her of being held down? What if I frightened her? 

“I did, very much. You weren’t too rough, and you do not scare me.” She smirks at his wide-eyed stare. “And you? Was it okay? You are okay?”

Shit. He sometimes forgets to shield his thoughts.

“Okay?” He scoffs at her capriciously. “Yes, darling. I had to take a break in the middle simply because it was feeling far too okay.”

She thumps him on the chest, and he covers her hand with this. “I missed you, too. I do not know where I go, but wherever I am, I am always trying to get back to you.”

Illyria brushes his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “Are you still restless? You need to sleep, Astarion. I can feel how tired you are. Do not be afraid. I’ve got you.”

He smirks. “If I were, do you think you could be convinced to go another round?”

“I could be persuaded.”

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As with most fic writers, I am a WHORE for comments. We appreciate even just an emoji. Please feed your fic writers the sustenance of comments 🥰

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

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

Small Notes:

Do you think she should have told him right away?

What will his reaction be when she does eventually tell me?

Also, who is ready for a cute intimate ceremony

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