#from one half elf wife to another.

[tofixtheshadows]

Hot take: Laios wouldn't actually mind an arranged marriage. Obviously "reluctant royal being pressured into marriage" is very fun for shipping purposes. But I have harlequin blood, so bear with me. Join me on this journey of character theorizing/shipping nonsense that makes it abundantly clear I have a Scrivener document I'm neglecting.

Laios was promised to someone from a young age. He and Falin both were; it's probably how their parents ended up together. They both broke it off by leaving their village, but it didn't seem to be a factor in Laios's own decision. And when Marcille, presumably, asks about his hypothetical love life (bicorn chapter), he not only brings it up readily, but actually seems kind of flattered? lmao

I love when smug Laios comes out. Underrated factor of Laios's personality for me is how much he enjoys being seen as cool. I think you'd expect Laios to be embarrassed or uneasy over this line of questioning, and the fact that he isn't is fun to me.

So when Yaad and his other old advisors bring up his need for a wife, Laios is ready to go along with it. Not necessarily thrilled by the prospect, but he was raised to think of marriage as a business arrangement you do because it's beneficial for your household/bloodline (as was often the case historically). He's already made the big step to claim a throne, and the idea of becoming village chief after his father seemed to have been vaguely in the back of his head all his life. Besides, if he has to do it anyway, I think he'd take comfort that there was a formalized process for an otherwise socially messy undertaking.

This dovetails neatly with my personal headcanon that Laios is gay but unaware of it. He comes from kind of a repressed culture- or at least I can imagine he does based on context clues- and has spent most of his life being ostracized in one way or another, feeling like he's on the outside of humanity. So he doesn't realize that his lack of attraction to women is unusual- he assumes that nobody really enjoys romance that much. It's not like his own parents married for love. It's just something people play up for stories, right?

It's all tangled up with his fraught desire for human connection and platonic companionship anyway. Meanwhile he's blithely unaware that the things he says about Toshiro are not normal bro things. Oh you'd totally marry Toshiro, Laios? Tell me more.

I see this in Marcille too. Firstly due to her unstable development, which has only recently allowed her to reach maturity (I headcanon her as somewhere between 20-22) and secondly due to her being a half-elf (infertile+a too-long lifespan), I think she has the expectation that she's simply not destined for love. The half-elf character she relates to in her favorite books says as much. So she, too, confuses a genuine lack of heterosexual attraction with the belief that this is just because of her half-elf status distancing her from it. Plus, she spent over a decade as a student/researcher in a nice little sheltered academic bubble, at an all-girls academy populated by adolescents. She's the most sheltered of all the characters: she's only spent the past year in the "real world", and she still focuses all her romantic attention on living vicariously through her favorite characters or her friends (except for Falin, conveniently!).

And Marcille would absolutely want to live vicariously through Laios and his future wife. She would not want him to go through a dispassionate formalized process: she wants her bestie to have a fairytale romance! What is the point of being a heroic king in a mythic castle if you can't even get a love story for the ages out of it?

This would result in a lot of Laios meeting with eligible bachelorettes at Marcille's urging, looking to Kabru for help the entire time and being grilled by Marcille afterwards about what he liked best about each girl. "She had nice, um, teeth?" They're both so close to getting it.

Kabru, meanwhile, is agitating for Yaad and the other advisors not lock the country into a hereditary monarchy, they have the chance to do something radical here, to break away from the systems that the elves and dwarves uphold. At the very least, let Laios marry for love, or formally adopt an heir and name them his successor if he wants, he's already sacrificed enough for the sake of Melini. Don't make him jump through these circus hoops for the chance of some trade agreements, we can get those without a royal marriage. And even if Laios was willing to go along with it, he does look at Kabru like he's his hero for sticking up for him.

The vague unhappiness Kabru feels at the idea of Laios being married off is easy for him to ignore. Kabru didn't actually get better at honoring or even recognizing his own wants just because he's moved past the dungeon. And Laios hasn't gotten the hint about his crush on Toshiro and is still 50/50 on saying casually shocking things, so when he remarks that he doesn't need a wife anyway when he has Kabru, he has no idea why that gets him the looks it does. After all, where he's from, men marry women to run their households, but Laios has castle staff for that, and Kabru is handling the rest?

That comment alone ticks one month off their collective gay awakening countdown.

Anyway. How many repressed gays in their twenties does it take to run a country?

Answer: Yaad can tell you.

[angelpregdreams]

a fruitful union (1)

content: fpreg, half-elf/half-orc offspring, hard labor, hard birth, praise

wc: 4145

When Eirian Estainfae had been told of her fate as the bride to feared Orc chieftain, Rhesh Kharr, she sat in shock for several days. At no point in her life had she considered her future husband would be anyone other than an Elf - let alone an Orc. 

She had never imagined it would be Rhesh Kharr, even in her wildest dreams. 

The night before her wedding to the Orc chieftain, Eirian’s mother came to her chambers, sending the servants away as soon as she entered. Myfiria was nearing her third millennium but still radiated grace and beauty. It was something Eirian always admired about her mother, something she always prayed she acquired from her.

With how she had been feeling lately, she doubted her own grace very much.

“My darling,” Myfiria cooed at her daughter, smoothing her hair away from her face. Eirian couldn’t help but feel tears burn her eyes once she looked up at her mother. “Oh, cry if you must, my dear. But cry here, in my arms, and not again from this night onward.” Her hand tucked a stray hair behind her daughter’s pointed ear, then slowly drew her fingers up under Eirian’s chin - keeping her eyes upwards, “do you hear me? Do not cry in front of them.”

Eirian sobbed, remaining in Myfiria’s arms until the sun rose. By then neither of them had any more tears to shed, simply comfort in silence. 

After her mother left, Eirian sat in her bed to wait for her maids to come in to dress her, bare of all clothing, and her long black hair hanging down her back, loose and slightly tangled. She began to lose track of time after that, her chest aching and her mind moving too slow for her body. One moment she was in her childhood bed chambers, and the next she stood in an opulent war tent, listening as her…husband explained…something she hadn’t caught the start of.

“...-thers, they will not bother you either, so you are free to go about the camp as you wish.” Rhesh finished saying, using the common language. His back was turned towards her, and Eirian finally noticed that he had removed his tunic, the broad expanse of his back exposed her eyes. 

After a beat, she cleared her throat slightly and stepped towards him, replying in the common tongue as a courtesy in return. “I appreciate that-” Eirian stumbled over her next word, at a loss of what to call him, before the silence grew a second too long, “husband.”

A muscle in his shoulder twitched and she rose her eyes from it before the motion captivated her again, as he turned to stare at her. Rhesh lingered in silence after that, his hard stare pinning her in place, but she didn’t look away. After a moment, Eirian noticed his brow quirk slightly, then his face returned to a blank mask. 

“...You look troubled, wife.” Rhesh replied, his eyes roving over her form, not even attempting to hide his lingering gaze. He then turned towards her fully and Eirian felt her cheeks burn. 

His cock pressed against the seam of his trousers and took no effort to hide it. Unabashed, he took two steps closer to her, and lifted up a hand to her cheek. His thumb brushed over her skin and Eirian stilled completely - except for her heart beating rapidly against her breast. His hardened, dark grey eyes searched over her face, looking for…something she couldn’t figure out. 

“I won’t hurt you,” he finally said, dropping his hand and walking away from her, barely brushing against her as he did so. Rhesh left the tent without another word. 

For the following week, he did as he promised. He didn’t hurt her. He spoke to her every day, common things. About how the food was, how comfortable her cot was, if anyone was bothering her. It was charming, and the start of a very tentative romance. 

He gave her time, and she felt like she could never repay him for it. His kindness showed through, but only for her. Every interaction she saw Rhesh have with the others in his warband, he was rough and near-cruel and it never stopped making her stomach turn. But then he would sit across from her for dinner and ask her about what she studied. 

As the days passed, Eirian began to speak more and more, opening up to her husband. Both emotionally and physically. 

Rhesh expressed his worries about their need to please both of their people and the reality of now being split between two nations. She listened, inputting her opinion, the stress of the last few elven councils she had attended. 

When Eirian began to speak about her sadness, Rhesh placed a large hand on her thigh, squeezing gently but not pushing beyond that. That was the moment Eirian realized that she began to fall for the massive Orc. 

From there, their touches were casual occurrences. She would reach for his arm while walking near him through camp. He would slip a hand around her waist while guiding her through the entrance of their tent. It was innocent, it was gentle. 

Surprising both of them, Eirian made the first move. She was in the bath, a tub set up in the middle of their tent while he was out on a patrol. Except Rhesh returned sooner than she expected, leading to him walking in on her, naked, wet, and flushed pink in the hot water. Her eyes caught his, and she swallowed her nerves, beckoning him to join her in the bath. 

Rhesh raised a brow, silently asking if she was sure - to which, Eirian gave him a slight smile and nodded. 

His armor was removed, something dropped from his body with every step towards the bathtub, but his eyes never left her form. When he stood at the side of the tub, he was fully nude and Eirian couldn’t pull her eyes away from his massive erection. There was no hiding it, and it made her belly twist in excitement at his unabashed nature regarding his attraction to her. Knowing he was turned on by her, and her alone, it made her crave him just the same. 

The bath was tight with the two of them in it, but when Rhesh pulled Eirian onto his lap, straddling his hips, did they fit in it more comfortably. Eirian was a blushing mess, but she couldn’t help herself, and grinded her hips down against his throbbing member. His growl was encouraging and, if that wasn’t enough, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her down, his lips finding hers passionately. 

Eirian wasn’t a virgin when she met Rhesh but the amount of time it took to adjust to him was far longer than either of them expected. By the time she was comfortable, Rhesh swiftly set a quick pace, bouncing her up and down on his thick cock as she dug her nails into his muscled shoulders. Neither of them were quiet, his grunts and her whines were heard through the camp, but no one would comment on it later. 

When Rhesh pounded upwards, pulling her downwards at the same time, he rocked his hips against hers - then Eirian felt the warmth of his cum spill into her belly. She couldn’t help but whine, having sensed her own orgasm quickly approaching but when he stilled to cum in her, Eirian wiggled her hips needily. 

He grumbled into a chuckle, releasing her hip and reaching down to her clit, flicking over her sex swollen nub only a few times before she finally orgasmed. Her cunt clenched around his softening member and he groaned in approval, rocking his hips up to urge her orgasm to linger. 

From then on, their relationship shifted. 

They were friends, and now lovers - the two of them falling into a working marriage as a bridge between their people. 

However, the biggest bridge came when Eirian’s belly began to swell outward. Rhesh commented on it first, holding his hands over her lower abdomen and rubbing the slight pouch developing over her middle. As he did so, Eirian had the sudden realization, she had not bled in a while. No one ever confirmed the pregnancy, in fact, the two of them decided to keep their first child between them for as long as possible. A small act of rebellion against those that arranged their marriage without them. 

The problem came when Eirian was reminded she was quickly swelling with a half-orc child, and hiding her growing belly was harder as months dragged on. Someone finally caught a glance of Eirian and Rhesh together by a river, the two of them lost in each other, and not realizing a servant now had spread the word of her pregnancy throughout camp. From his war camp, it was quickly spread back to their home countries, and from there - a mess of missives and letters making demands of their unborn child. 

Pregnant and worried for her baby, Eirian cried one evening, the first time since the night before her wedding. Her hands were splayed over the expanse of her large middle, their child nearing full term now, at least with a normal Orc pregnancy. Elven pregnancies lasted longer, but considering the weight around Eirian’s hips, she realized this would not be like a normal Elven pregnancy. 

Silently, Rhesh came to her side and brushed the tears from her eyes, gently lifting her into his lap. He cradled her and held a hand over her belly, his thumb rubbing over her popped out belly button over her dress. There were no words spoken between the two, just her quiet tears and his silent support. 

The conversation about their first born needed to be addressed but for the night, the couple simply found solace in each other. From then on, it quickly became the two of them versus their own people to try and protect their future children. 

Eirian’s belly continued to grow, albeit slower than a normal Orc pregnancy, but just as big. Rhesh became concerned as the days drew on, his eyes and hands never straying from her swollen form in one way or another. His worry became palpable, the entire camp felt the pressure under his harsh orders. Everything had to be right, and Eirian had to be protected. 

Neither of them said it outloud, but they both knew that the Orc elders and the Elven council would be above subterfuge to identify the babe. Eirian knew that her uncle would pull no punches with this alliance, including swiping her first born if it meant he could manipulate the child of their union. 

Rhesh kept his camp in one spot for several weeks, not wanting to be on the road when Eirian began to labor. He wanted his camp set up so their tent was deep in the middle, making sure his men and personal guard were between them and those that posed a threat to his wife and unborn child. It made his men nervous but he was quickly becoming steadfast in his care, ignoring their comments of disapproval. 

After a long day, Rhesh finally came back to their tent. He had been out on a patrol, and after being waylaid by a group of river bandits, finally able to come back to Eirian’s side. She sat draped over their plush chair, specifically bought for her by her husband quickly after her pregnancy showed itself. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, her head tossed back over the chair, her dark hair messily thrown over one of the arms. Eirian rubbed her distended abdomen with both hands, a focused look upon her features. 

Her eyes fluttered open and she gave him a lingering look, one that told him everything he needed to know. 

“Our babe is ready?” Rhesh asked her, coming to her side immediately. He knelt beside the chair and took her small hand into his larger one. “Are you well, Eiri?”

Eirian released a long breath, continuously rubbing her stomach with her left hand. Rhesh squeezed her right, bringing it to his lips to gently press a kiss in her palm. She gave him a reassuring smile, “labor is taking a toll on me, I fear.” Her body tensed and she squeezed his hand tightly, attempting to control her breathing as she continued to speak through the pain, “it’s been…all day, I hadn’t expected…you…to be gone so long.”

The Orc held her hand, shaking his head, “I hadn’t either, forgive me. Do I-” he paused for a moment, letting her ride out the pain before continuing, “shall I get someone?” 

“No, no, please no.” Eirian shook her head, teary eyes boring up at him. “Do not leave me again. I just want us.”

Rhesh nodded, brushing away hair that stuck to her sweaty forehead. She pressed her head into his hand, giving him a tired smile. 

“The little one sits low, I think it’s almost time.” Eirian said, grunting and shifting in her seat. Her thighs were sitting wide apart, her massive belly jutted upward, the pressure on her hips intense and unable to be ignored. She groaned and tossed her head back, belly tensing as a contraction took over her again. 

“Fuck!!” She cried, the pain lingering for longer than before. Wiggling her hips slightly, she gestured for him to help lift her dress up. Rhesh complied quickly, shoving the fabric up her legs and pushed it over her hips and massive belly. Her taut skin was splattered with stretch marks, the soft pink flesh between her legs was darker, and swollen. Eirian spread her legs apart farther, gasping in slight relief as she was able to shift into an open position, the head of their babe sitting deep in her body. Rhesh grabbed on her legs and placed her foot on his shoulder, allowing her to push against it as she needed. 

Eirian gave him a grateful look, not pausing her focus as she felt another pain take over her lithe frame. On his shoulder, her foot trembled, her strength pressing against his and it was no match, even as she labored. 

“Breathe, Eiri,” Rhesh murmured, reaching up and caressing her thigh, “listen to your body.”

She made a noise of acknowledgement, a soft huff as she tugged the dress she wore up and over the rest of her body. Fully nude now, Eirian tossed her head forward and looked at her husband, whispering her discomfort, “...there’s so much…pressure…”

Rhesh nodded, sensing the strain on her body as she heaved heavy breaths, thighs now fully spread open to reveal her slit to him. Her foot on his shoulder dug into him, Eirian grunting as the pressure shifted even lower into her core, the weight of it causing her to rock her hips forward slightly and groan out, “fuck..fucking…pressure!” 

“Keep breathing,” he reminded her. In response, she gasped out a deep breath, eyes screwed shut in pain. “Good, good, again.”

Eirian continued to follow his instruction, even as a few minutes passed and several pains came and went. Her body began to arch with each pain, the tightness of her muscles around her middle making the movement nearly impossible to avoid. The foot not on Rhesh’s shoulder now draped over the arm of the chair, fully apart enough for her body to finally give her the urge to push with her next pain. The pressure between her thighs was too much to ignore and Eirian finally gave a grunt and pushed, her body wound tight and tense as her body began to strain. 

“Good push, Eiri,” Rhesh cooed up at her, reaching up to rub her other thigh, his fingers trailing over to her swollen womanhood, feeling every tremble in her muscles along the trail. “Good girl, good push.”

In the chair, Eirian groaned and pushed with her body, the pains now never letting up and the child sitting so deep in her core that she felt if she moved forward it would push the child back into her womb. “Nughhhh…” She moaned, pushing down hard. “Ah!”

For several long minutes, Eirian continued to push, making little progress, but still progressing. Rhesh watched her pussy turn a darker red and began to bulge outward. But as the next half an hour passed, that was the most progress she was able to make. His fingers rubbed the bulging folds softly, urging her to push as the next pain came and went and again very little progress was made. 

“It’s…it’s too big…fuck…” Eirian breathed, releasing her push with a whine. 

She brought up a very valid concern Rhesh had remained silent about for most of her pregnancy. The genuine fear of her body not able to deliver his child, their different sizes painfully clear to notice. If she wasn’t able to do this, if his child was too big and this hurt her…killed her?

Before he could consider his word to express his worry, Eirian began to push again, her body naturally trying to urge the massive child from her womanhood. 

She groaned and it quickly turned into a shout, crying out as she strained and pushed. Her pussy bulged out even more, and Rhesh cupped her lips, the head poking out just a sliver before sliding back in when she relaxed her body.

“Yes!” Rhesh encouraged, “I saw it, I saw our child, Eiri.”

After her mind was able to register his words, Eirian was able to release a breathy laugh, and immediately moaned as another pain began to build. In his hand, her folds pushed against his palm, the skin parting as the head was brought to just visible. This time remaining closer to her opening, the sliver of the head just in sight now and staying there.

The babe came down into a wide, wide crown, very slowly. Eirian whimpered and cried out with every push and urging down her body strained to do, fluid dripping out of her swollen folds with each time. The foot on his shoulder, lifted off, her hand coming up to grip the back of her thigh and lift it up and apart from the other. As her cries and grunts elevated in volume, Rhesh rubbed her skin as gently as he could to ease the pain but it didn’t matter, her pussy was burning. 

Eirian’s pushes lasted longer, and as the next pain began, she began to push down just barely and the head finally lurched free from her tight womanhood in a messy gush of her fluid. In surprise she cried out and reached a hand down over Rhesh’s, the both of them holding their baby’s head. Tears fell over her cheeks as she felt around the head and felt for the cord, remembering that small part of childbirth in the back of her head from her mother. No cord was present and she felt her body relax slightly, some of the worry and paranoia leaving her as she went through the action. 

The rest should be easier. At least, Eirian prayed the rest of it would be easier. 

With how far the babe had spread her entrance open, she knew the shoulders would be an issue if she couldn’t get them out with the help of her body. Waiting for the next pain, she felt the little one in her jolt, the sensation making her hips buck as she jutted them into both Rhesh and her hand. The babe nestled at her entrance even more at the action.

Between her legs, Rhesh smiled up at her with awe, the sight of his small, perfect, Elven wife in the middle of birth was just something he would cherish forever. She grunted and groaned and sweated and cried, but to him, right now - she was perfect. 

Eirian looked at him with watery eyes and gave him the smallest smile she could, the pain making it the only thing she could focus on in the moment, but she still cherished him and his care. 

Their baby, however, seemed more than a little eager, now that the head had been introduced to the world. 

“Ah - oh, fuck!” Eirian cried, grunting and pushing down as she felt the baby shift in her body again, the shoulders rubbing against her entrance. Her noises got louder as she strained and bore down with all of her might. Her husband offered soft cheers of encouragement but she was far too lost in her own world. 

As the more pushes she did, Eirian’s strength began to fade quickly. Her last push was almost half-hearted, the grunts turning into whines again, the pain and the pressure making everything that wasn’t the baby - hard to focus on. 

Rhesh tried to ground her, and her body continued its natural urges to push, but Eirian sobbed and shook her head. “I c- I can’t…” She whimpered, eyes wide and directed at her husband, the look of fear crossing her features made him wish he could take this from her. “Rhesh,” she begged, “please…don’t make me…”

“You must.” Rhesh returned firmly, the hand next to hers near the babe’s head brushed their fingers together,  just slightly in comfort. “You know you must, Eirian. The babe is almost here, feel…” 

He guided her hand to fully cup the head of their child, it barely fit in the palm of her hand, the head huge and impossibly wide. Her breath caught in her throat, realizing that they were so close to meeting their child and that she had already pushed out something so massive. Their eyes met and she continued to cry, but nodded barely, once. 

Grinning, he nodded back at her, pride bursting from his chest as she readied herself to push again. Eirian’s hand still rested on the baby’s head, supporting it as she leaned her body forward towards the edge of the chair to push with as much of her might she could still muster. 

The first one was painful, Eirian screaming as she pushed. The only payoff being a slight gush of amniotic fluid dribbling around the head, spilling out of her straining womanhood, and around their fingers. As she took a breath and began to push again, her entire body shifted. Several things happened at once. Her body lurched as far forward in the chair it could, her knees coming up as close to her shoulders as she could bring them, and then one of the baby’s shoulders slipped free. 

Rhesh cheered, urging her to push one last time, their child almost free of her body. 

Eirian didn’t hear him, her entire focus now on her final push. Her cries went silent, her mouth just open and eyes screwed shut. Her pussy was pink, pulled tight around the huge half-orc baby that hung out of her. The weight of it put more pressure around her entrance as it pulled downward into Rhesh’s other hand. With her own hand, she felt the shoulder that popped out, and reached down to wrap her fingers under it’s armpit. As she began to lose steam at the end of her push, Eirian kept going, her hand now helping her as she pulled and pushed the huge child out of her.

A splatter of fluid gushed out of her as the babe came out, and Rhesh helped keep the child in their arms in the mess, guiding the child to rest on Eirian’s chest. 

Instinctively, she rubbed the child’s back - a girl, Rhesh said - and cooed, tears spilling over her cheeks as she stared at the little one in her arms. 

The cry that errupted from their daughter’s lungs was shrill and it made both of them laugh in relief and pride. Rhesh came up closer to the two of them now, rubbing the head of their little girl. 

“She’s loud and looks healthy,” Rhesh mumbled without attempting to hide his proud tone, “mama did a wonderful job.”

Eirian still cried, but sniffed, unable to take her eyes off the babe, her fingers trailing over her daughter’s features. Every part of the girl was perfect to her already, the pale green skin, the wide doe-eyes, and the obvious Elven ears. A beautiful combination of both parents. She would be beautiful and strong. 

A sudden stake of fear pierced her heart, coming back to the reality that their first born was a girl. Both of their people needed a male heir to secure the alliance for the foreseeable future, meaning she would have to go through this again. At least twice. 

Eirian swallowed, glancing back down at her perfect daughter, Rhesh’s hands caressing both her and the child lovingly. The worry of the future still nagged at her but she smiled, reaching out to cup his cheek - fully intent on cherishing this moment as long as she could.

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 3 MATCH 3

Edelgard propaganda:

“to summarize, she started a war but she was right. maybe her means weren't the best, but I'll always support my wife to tear down the church and end fodlan's reliance and discrimination on Crests”

"FODLANS MOST ELIGIBLE LESBIAN BACHLORETTE"

Alistair propaganda:

“this man is my first love and i was heartbroken when he lost </3 i believe in you baby”

“Alistair and the player are the last known surviving members in the country of an organization sworn to save the world from the recently reappeared apocalypse. You travel together to gather allies and he is very sweet and adorable if you choose to romance him. Depending on your choices he can become king and make the player his queen, or you can stay side by side in the organization. If you try to sacrifice yourself to save the world at the end, a romanced Alistair will take the killing blow in your stead if he’s by your side in the moment”

“He's the sweetest pun-iest man and it is so hard not to fall for his goofy charm, especially since he is the first companion you meet. He has a tragic backstory as a bastard child of royalty who was sent away to protect the heir. I always try to go in to date someone else when I restart the game and I always give in and pick Alistair.”

“I love his puns and sarcasm. He may be kinda dumb and like the epitome of boring white boy to some people, but i just love the humour he brings to the party.”

"alistair was literally forced to live in the stables growing up because the man who had stewardship of him remarried and she didn't like him; he's a bastard prince and tries to keep it secret but is almost identical to the king and you meet those two within 5 minutes of one another; he finds a rose in the middle of a battlefield and thinks how impossible it was to find something so beautiful in somewhere so terrible and it reminds him of finding you - so he saves it to give it to you; he's 20 and if you tell him to he will take the throne (even though it's always been his greatest fear - he'll do it if you're at his side); he doesnt know he's a half elf and its possible for him to live in the same castle as his mother later; he notices she looks at him strangely but he never finds out why; he's doomed to die young and so are you"

[littlejuicebox]

Bruised.

Summary: School is not going well for Gale. Astarion and you rush to pick up your child after an unfortunate event leads to his injury. This is really just a little bonus blurb to the other piece I posted earlier today titled “Camping for beginners.”

Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, Astarion being Astarion, parenthood, childhood, school bully, injury to a child, minor angst, this is unedited so there may be grammatical errors etc

Traffic on Wyrm’s Crossing is at a standstill. The two of your are in the carriage, rushing to pick up Gale after a sending spell announced recess went terribly wrong. Your eldest was injured by another child.

“Gods below, can we go any faster?” Astarion complains before sticking his head out the window and pounding angrily on the roof of the carriage to catch the driver’s attention. He barks an order and then ducks back inside the caravan just as the vehicle is forced into high speed.

Wyrm’s Crossing isn’t particularly long, but in this moment, it feels like the crossway between you two and your son’s school is further than a mere 2000 feet.

You sigh as you attempt to placate your husband, “Astarion, we have to try and be reasonable when we walk in, we can’t—“

“Reasonable!” Astarion hisses with a wry laugh, turning to look at you for the first time since you two rushed into the carriage, “Is it reasonable, darling, that our son has been attacked for the second time this year?”

“Of course not! But we have to—“ You start, but your husband cuts you off with a seething glare. You are not at all used to being on the receiving end of his vitriol; it’s shocking.

“I wanted tutors, but you insisted it would be good for Gale to be with other children closer to his age and look how bloody well that’s going, Tav!” He snaps, his hand slamming against the side of the carriage again in his rage.

That stung. Tears begin to well in your eyes as a reaction to your husband’s cutting remark.

Astarion groans and then pinches the bridge of his nose with a leather-gloved hand as he works to regain control over his emotions. He sighs and rubs his hand down his face before opening his eyes and looking at you, “I’m sorry, my love. That was unfair. I just— gods, let’s just get Gale and take care of this.”

You nod, still blinking away tears and unable to say anything further as you turn your face away from your husband and gaze outside the carriage window.

Astarion closes his eyes and chastises himself as he leans back into the carriage seat. The rest of the journey is made in silence.

*

When the two of you enter the headmaster’s office, you immediately spot Gale holding an ice bag over his eye. Astarion rushes to inspect the six year old and instantly fills with wrath, spinning on his heels to address the headmaster.

“Who did this, Alaric?” Astarion questions, stepping far too closely to the half-elven headmaster and jabbing an accusatory finger into the man’s chest, “Who did this under your watch?”

Headmaster Alaric Frostborne is no stranger to upset parents; he’s been in charge of the school for nearly fifty years. The half elf calmly holds his ground as he addresses Astarion, explaining he does not know who gave Gale a black eye but is working to find out.

You pull your six year old into your lap and help him hold the ice pack against his eye as you whisper a healing spell. The damage is done, and surely the school nurse has already used more than one healing potion, but you do it regardless. It might not help heal the bruising past this point, but you hope it will at least comfort your child.

In the safety of your lap, Gale finally begins to cry. The tears are silent, apart from the occasional sniffle, and you pull your eldest tightly against you, whispering words of comfort into his ear. He continues to weep as his father speaks to the headmaster.

“This is the second time this year, Alaric. I am sure I don’t need to remind you that my wife’s name is on an entire wing of this school,” Astarion continues, far too measured for the rage boiling inside as he spits his words at the headmaster, “So unless the Ancunins are to pull the donations you so desperately solicit from us each year, I suggest you work harder to fix this issue.”

Astarion turns and reaches for your son, knowing himself well enough to realize that if he does not leave the situation now, Alaric Frostborne will have a shiner matching Gale Ancunin’s.

You release the boy from your grip, allowing your husband to hoist the child into his arms and carry him out of the office. You watch through the window as two silver-haired heads enter the carriage.

You stand and linger for a moment longer, turning your cool gaze to Alaric as you assess him.

“I am a patient woman, Headmaster Frostborne,” You begin, your arms coming to cross your chest, “And perhaps viewed as more kind and less reactive than my husband… so let me be explicitly clear here. Should this problem continue, I will have you removed from your role faster than a Leviathan swims. Because should this matter continue, you’re clearly unfit to keep the students of this school safe. Understood?”

Alaric nods, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Is that a yes, Alaric? Am I clear?” You press, your eyes narrowing at the half-elf as you struggle to control the growing anger inside your own body. Sparks of magic threaten to fly from your hands before you regain control over yourself.

“Yes, Counsellor Ancunin. Crystal.” The headmaster responds, “We will continue our investigations until the matter is resolved.”

You nod but do not say anything further before you exit the headmaster’s office and breeze out of the school to rejoin your husband and son.

Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned.

[dhampling]

˗ˏˋ i'm dal - she/‎‎‎her. 24. ˎˊ˗ astarion x reader content • 18+ only, minors dni! ‎‏‏‎ ꙳⊹ ﾟ⋆ • about me • ko-fi • ao3 • my caps • © BLOODSOEUR. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works.

butter gn!reader, 2.5k you and the vampire spend a short gloaming sun discussing marriage

both free gn!reader, 2.1k you reject bhaal’s greatest gift - to this, your horrified love bears witness

one mine, both yours bard gn!reader, 1.6k astarion’s habit of visiting your tent leads him to your hidden pile of sonnets

the shepherd, the black sheep gn!reader, 2k a plummet into a chasm leaves you and your light-fingered friend stuck. together, you wonder if you’ll ever emerge again.

sylvan gn!reader, 2.8k a chance series of encounters in youth come together on one night, where everything just clicks for Astarion and his unicorn.

the sunwalker's gift gn!reader, 3.3k you find a ring - after a lot of searching - that allows astarion to walk in the sun, and propose with it.

gush fem!reader, 2.2k (NSFW) it rains. you swindle some wine and astarion cums in his breeches.

oh, mother fem!reader, 3.3k (NSFW) it’s the mummy fic.

lifeblood fem!reader, 2.5k (NSFW) astarion discovers an aphrodisiac during a trip to the night market, and only one thing is on his mind.

ivory tower fem!reader x ascended!astarion, 4.6k (NSFW) you're still mortal, and there's good reason for it.

warming fem!reader 1.2k (NSFW) early morning feeding and cockwarming because i said so.

swell fem!reader 1.9k (NSFW) feral pregnant sex with the elf. inspired by this NSFW piece by the ridiculously talented @mutualcombat.

leeches girl!dadstarion, <1k astarion and his daughter have a spat.

little love girl!dadstarion, <1k dadstarion watches dhampling sleep.

bramble jam girl!dadstarion, <1k “In what realm would we need this much jam?”

the gate girl!dadstarion, 1.5k astarion is a school-gate dilf on his first pick-up adventure with you.

sunburn girl!dadstarion, <1k dhampling gets sunburnt!

introducing the siblings girl!dadstarion (inbox prompt) "I had this image in my mind of him introducing the older girls to their new baby sister each time and just being sweet and cute"

breakfast girl!dadstarion (inbox prompt) astarion trying to make breakfast for the growing brood while tav/reader is like, "my love, you wanted this"

bump dadstarion x reader (inbox prompt) astarion being a lil shit and causing more kicks talking to and touching tav's baby bump as tav tries to rest?

stretch marks dadstarion x reader (inbox prompt) Imagine a tav who’s really insecure about these marks [...] and when they bring it up to astarion he decides the best course of action is to show them how much he loves them.

snuggles dadstarion x reader (inbox prompt) when tav is pregnant astarion would love snuggling up to their baby bump - curling around them and listening for signs of their little one

shallow bites girl!dadstarion (inbox prompt) "I think it would be really funny if astarion and tav’s daughter was practicing her bites and pickpocketing on the two of them, respectively. [...] No ancunín is going to grow up being a half-rate pickpocket!"

hugs from behind dadstarion x reader (inbox prompt) "hugging the other from behind" from this list of prompts with astarion hugging his very tall, very pregnant wife from behind because I think the image of it is so cute.

tiefling tav showing affection via their tail tief!reader (inbox prompt)

valentine's day with astarion gn!reader (inbox prompt)

earthbound astarion x earth!born reader (inbox prompt) "how do you think astarion would handle a tav who is actually from earth and is going to return home after defeating the netherbrain?"

reunited astarion x earth!born reader (inbox prompt) "a follow-up to earth tav somehow reuniting with astarion, via reincarnation or another divine intervention"

patience gn!reader (inbox prompt) "hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" from the one-liners list"

baking gn!reader (inbox prompt) "ASTARION GETTING INTO BAKING AND ASKING YOU TO SAMPLE ALL OF HIS BAKES"

thulsun fem!reader, not tav! 3.7k (NSFW) under rework! astarion appears at your parlour one evening in a cloud of smoked bergamot and the briefest hint of spunk, and it becomes oh-so difficult to watch him leave.

three, minimum fem!reader, 4.3k (NSFW) astarion has been planning, for the first time in his life. He wants babies.

nought point five fem!reader, 4.7k (NSFW) seven months along, he’s besotted with every pregnant piece of you.

one fem!reader, 2k astarion is a newly-minted girldad. that’s it. that’s the plot.

one more fem!reader, 2.9k (NSFW) your home is quaint. astarion continues to insist it isn’t busy enough.

(astarion x fem!reader au, NSFW) he's a potwasher. you want to fuck the potwasher. this started as a joke and now i'm obsessed. enjoy.

one two

[withlove-xixi]

— SUCCUBUS: chilchuck x reader

ᥫ cw: nudity + suggestive (nothing explicit), spoilers for chapter 58 (kinda not really) ᥫ wc: 794 ★ finally reading the dunmeshi manga and i have reached the . succubus chapter (i had been dreading it BECAUSE SOMEONE TOLD ME CHILCHUCK GETS HIS .. THING .... SUCKED ON) anyway, i'm here to do my job and add one more succubus fic to the dunmeshi fandom cross posted on ao3 — MINORS DNI! —

— WHEN A SUCCUBUS ATTACKS, YOU SHOULD NEVER BE ALONE.

[♡]: chilchuck knows that from unfortunate experience. when laios announces to the party they're facing that dreaded monster, chilchuck's blood runs cold as flashes of his past encounters and the images of pretty blonde girls flicker in his mind. but his issue now isn't of what he's seen them become before, it's that he isn't quite sure how they'd appear now.

HALF THE PARTY WAS OUT OF COMMISSION, passed out with pleasured faces, all shriveled up like raisins no thanks to the succubi. That half the party included you because you foolishly ran after Laios when he had gone to get milk (ever the caring friend, worry had clouded your sense of judgment and both Chilchuck and Marcille realized a bit too late to stop you).

Now they were down to two since Izutsumi had run off too and Chilchuck can't lie, he's getting a bit worried. While he was confident with Marcille's magic and his skill with the bow, he wasn't keen on the idea of being two people left to fight against what could be thousands of succubi. One wrong move and they're both dead.

"Marcille, I'll take out the ones that go after you, so you should take out the ones that go after me," Chilchuck says, index finger pointing at Marcille then at the entrance of the room.

The elf nods, readying her staff as she braces herself for an attack. And as if on cue, a naked blonde half-foot steps out of the entrance, rushing towards Chilchuck who stares at it wide-eyed. Marcille is quick to send an explosion at it, successfully killing the succubus.

It freaks Chilchuck out for just a second (thinking it was a real person and not a monster) but otherwise he's finally broken free of its charm.

The cycle repeats as more blonde half-foots emerge from the entrance, all different features and bodies, but all blonde. It's enough to make Chilchuck blush when he's conscious, he was a man after all, he wasn't going to deny the faces the succubi took on beautiful.

"They're all blondes, huh?" Marcille says the obvious and Chilchuck's face reddens a bit more. "Was your wife a blonde too?"

"Can you shut up about that?" He snaps back at her, brows furrowed and jaw clenched.

Marcille giggles, smiling innocently at him when they both hear a voice call from the entrance.

"Ch… Chilchuck…"

Chilchuck makes the mistake of turning back. Because he hears your voice call for him, he doesn't quite realize the fact you were knocked out and shriveled up next to Laios at the moment.

He only realizes his mistake when he locks eyes with you — no, the succubus' image of you.

His mouth hangs ajar, his heart rate rises. Chilchuck takes a step forward without even realizing it. Because in front of him is the image of you, not just any image of you, you’re practically naked with that you’re wearing and you’ve got such a tearful expression on your face. Had it been another situation, Chilchuck would’ve been pissed something would’ve chosen to portray you in such a dirty way, all dolled up and innocent looking with puffy lips and fluttering lashes, not to mention that God forsaken outfit it had you in, some tight looking outfit with frills at the ends that nicely exposed your shoulders and thighs and nearly half your chest. It felt disrespectful. But this was all from Chilchuck’s mind after all, so if he had anyone to be pissed it, it would be himself.

“Does… Does this outfit look good on me?” Your voice coos, pressing a dainty finger up to your lower lip as you pout.

Marcille calls out to Chilchuck, but it’s left unheard, the half-foot is far too enticed by this tantalizing image of you, far too hooked in by the succubus’ charms. It sways its hips (your hips, really) and beckons Chilchuck to quickly come closer.

“It’s too tight, Chil…” Your voice says, all whiny and soft, as your hands fumble at the hems of your outfit, fingers gracefully brushing at the frills of it. Your breath is huffy, cheeks growing the faintest bit of pink. “Take it off for me, please?”

Chilchuck has half the mind to nod and reach both arms out, eager to tear that wretched piece of fabric off you. He takes another step forward before sudden heat flushes against his skin, blinding light shunning his sight. Then there’s a loud echoey thunk that reverberates against the stone walls of the room and suddenly he’s clutching the top of his head in pain.

Chilchuck cusses in another language before turning around to yell at whatever hit his head, but he only faces a flustered Marcille, face bright red up to the tips of her ears. She wears a mix of disappointment, embarrassment and annoyance.

“Get yourself together, Chilchuck.”

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

day 2: party - @lautski-week

get it.,, like a..,,.,,, dnd party.,.,.,..,,

i straight up gasped when i realized i could use this as an excuse to talk about my lautski dnd au, so, if ur interested im gonna go feral about it below the cut:

steph: half-elven fighter

solomon lauter is a deeply corrupt, incredibly magical high elven king whose maintained his rule through intense dealings with the pantheon of the lords in black

he married a human woman at some point in his rule and he does love her, at first, just not as much as his power

so when the lords in black make him promise to sacrifice her in the name of some deal, he's sort of upset but... obviously he's gonna do it, she was gonna die before him anyway, it's not like it's a huge deal to let her die a little early, his subjects will think it was a squishy human life span thing, bada bing bada boom, hands clean of the whole affair

BUT.... then his wife gets pregnant and has a Stephanie... which kinda fucks shit up because said Stephanie is still fucking there after his wife has been sacrificed

he hates her, partially because she's a half-elf and partially because of what she represents, and she hates him, which results in her having very few boundaries because he doesn't want to deal with her

she's still a princess, and she's surrounded by high elves who think she's stupid and inferior because she's only a half elf and she has very little magical prowess, so it's not exactly ideal circumstances even with her extra freedoms

so she learns to punch things

because if people are dicks she can't outwit them but she can deck them

eventually the lords in black offer another trade with her dad where he can trade her for extra magic, but mostly it's just a test to prove his loyalty and he is honestly more than happy to get rid of her

except steph gets wind of it (because she's generally close with the kind of people who fucking hate the king/don't get treated with enough respect for people to not gossip around them) and she runs the fuck away

so now she's being chased down by her father who is facing pressure from the libs for not making the sacrifice, all the while experiencing actual respect and freedom for the first time from her party members

pete: teifling warlock-wizard multiclass

so you know that post thats like it's ethically ambiguous but you can hand off any cursed object to a baby? that's pete's whole thing in this kind of

ted, his full human older brother, was a intentional patron of tinky, who hadn't really thought it through and tried to get out of it by making a stupid promise and really just ended up dooming himself and his unborn brother (he felt really bad about it before he disappeared under mysterious circumstances, tho)

pete was born with a warlock pact to tinky (which was pretty obvious when his full human parents created a bright yellow teifling baby)

he hates tinky and is very uncomfortable and upset by the whole thing, so he multi classed into wizard shit when he was, like, eleven

tinky actively attempts to prevent him from gaining levels in wizard

he lies about being only a wizard and has spent years coming up for excuses about why a lot of his 'wizard spells' are very specifically warlock ones if someone asks (literally no one has ever noticed or questioned it)

because he was born with the pact bond tinky's hold over him is way stronger, and if he really submits (when shit gets super bad) tinky can take over his body and puppet him into doing some fucked up violent shit

he is truly treated like SHIT for being a teifling in his home town and it really minimizes a lot of his academic prospects, even though he's so smart, so part of the reason why he's traveling with his party is to try and find a real wizarding academy that will take him

(and one that can maybe help break his pact with tinky)

Bonus:

Ruth: human rouge who desperately wants to be a bard, but she's too nervous to perform and ironically, tragically hiding the fuck out in the shadows comes a lot easier

Richie: firbolg artificer -- he's pretty bad with the magical aspects of anything, but he builds a lot of cool ass machinery to make up for it (even if, god, hes SO upset by how bad he is at magic)

Grace: High Elven Cleric who WILL become a fucked up little warlock to the lords in black eventually (she is from steph's kingdom and followed her when she ran away to 'protect her'. Steph has been trying to shake her this whole time)

[tallgirl14]

What if chilchuck joined Laios group when his kids were younge???

Chil: I need to grab something from my house

Marcille: we get to meet your family!?

Chil: NO! You're going to stay a couple of feet from my house while I run inside. I'll be in out and done.

Oh, and Marcille, keep your hood up. I don't want you scaring anyone

Outside his house, the party sees a little girl with dark hair playing, and chilchuck immediately picks her up and brings her inside

Marcille: "i didn't know he had a sister."

Senchi: "Didn't he say his dad died when he was young? That probably forced him to be the breadwinner of his family."

Laios: "That sounds about right from what I've read."

Inside the house, chilchuck puts down Fuler, and his wife turns around, surprise to see her husband back so soon

Bea: "Your back?? Did something happen?"

Chi: "Yes, and no, it's complicated. I'm ok. I just came to grab"

Fuler: "theres big people with daddy."

Bea: "What?" She moves to the windo and sees what looks to like 2 tall men and a dwarf

Chil pulls her from the window "where are the girls?"

Bea: " Meijacks at school and puck is still taking a nap"

Chil: " ok good" kiss his wife on cheek then runs to his office. " keep them inside until we're gone. This the party ive been working with that told you about There harmless, just weird

Backoutside party notices someone had come to the window and chilchuck quickly came over and shut the curtains

Senchi: " how many people are in his family do you know?

Laios: "no chil dosnet like to mix home and work because of how dangerous the work is.

Marille: but what if something were to happen how would his family know??

Laois: that's why he's made union to be the middle man they would pass word to his family. It makes since I've heard storied of angery party members going after family members so it makes since he wants us to keep our distance.

The group is distracted when they hear a small "hello" the look down to see lil half-foot maybe 3yr of age

Marcille squeals seeing how cute she is and she kneels down " HI, arnt you the cutes thing, do you live in that house?" She points and little girl nodded " im Puckpattie"

" it's nice to meet you, I'm Marcille this is senchi and Laios we work with your big brother." They notice she had confused expression but just as quickly as it came it left as she goes to pull something out of her pocket and hands it to marcille " here for you" marcille except excitedly sees the little half-foot has gifted her a pinecone with googly eyes "thank you!"

Up the road meijack is walking home from school when she noticed 3 Stanger infront of her house and a woman about to pick up her baby. Sister dread hit her and she takes off sprinting. Laios is the first to get hit by a flying school book at the back of his head and the group turns to see another halfLing this one looked to be and exact copy of chilchuck there was no question that they were related

Mei holding a big rock in one hand ready to throw: " don't touch her!"

Laios pust his hands up " it's ok were not here cause trouble"

Mei: " you brought trouble trying to take a kid that's not yours"

Marcille moves toward her " no I wasn't were here with your brother-"

Puckpattie runs over to meijack happily " your back" and hugs her leg but Mei dosnet take her eyes off the strangers " I don't have a brother"

Inside the house Fullertom looking out the windo and chilchuck yells at her to get away from the windo

Fuler wines " but why dose Mei and puck get to talk to your friends?"

Chil: "What??" And runs out of the house seeing his oldest armed with a rock holding her youngest "HEY"

Everyone turns to see chilchuck running towards them meijack looks confused " dad??"

Marcille knocking off her hood " your a Dad???"

Senchi: " he's s teen parent?!??!"

Meijack looks back now terrified seeing the woman she thought was trying to take her sister is an elf and throws the the rock hitting marcille.

Chilchuck grabes his meijack so she doesn't throws anything else. She looks up at her dad terrified" hey it ok it's ok." Meijacks: she an elf she was tried to take puck ."

Chil" he's harmless she's mostly nosey" Looks back at marcille " you ok? " she nods " just a scratch."

[imaybe5tupid]

King Laios marriage headcanons! (nothing to do with any shipping don’t get excited)

Laios doesnt really gaf about getting married like that, but marriage is such a powerful political tool there is so much pressure. And Kabru, the absolute legend manages to spin a situation where Melini can benefit from that, whilst not infringing on Laios’ really serious reluctance to not just be forced into the kind of situation he ran away from home to escape (or at least as much as is possible since he’s trapped as the King of Melini 😭). 

And that is for Laios to have multiple concubines from noble or semi-noble or merchant families, emperor style, who he doesnt sleep with/have a romantic relationship with at all! (but who all keep getting pregnant and having children anyway hahaha) Laios treats the concubines with the same professional demeanor as he did as a party leader, and it makes his relationships with them much more easy than one in a potential marriage would have been. Also it’s a way to make many new political connections with many places at once, and gain that bargaining chip that any of them could technically be elevated to a wife at some point.  Whilst also keeping the political card on hand that Laios can still get a wife from outside of his concubines, from another powerful place. Kind of Duke Leto from Dune style. Like these are women who would not ordinarily be considered for any kind of high marriage for varied reasons (age, sexuality, gender, illness, low in the family pecking order, some drama in their family etc. things like that), but because of the strangeness of the situation, and political potential they are sent over to Melini.

The concubines get to basically just have comfortable free life paid for them, with the ability to act completely freely so long as any romantic relationships are discreet and any children they end up having are nominally/officially fathered by Laios. Also would be cute if some of them are like Laios in that this is a chance for them to live a free life away from a home they’d rather leave behind. All these concubines and their retinues coming over would also quickly fill up the empty castle, and bring a lot of life to it. 

Would also be kind of funny if the kids all mostly have appearances/racial mixes that make Laios being their biological father completely imposssible lmfaoo. And Kabru the G.O.A.T and actual recessive trait/atavism haver spins like obscure novel scientific theories why its actually possible and how dare you speak such treason. But of course everybody knows the kids are of course not Laios’, it’s just not spoken aloud in formal situations. Like the people of Melini are like look at our royal heirs dawg we are not getting a hereditary dynasty. Since these babies are like freaking half oni or half dwarf or half elf. or fully oni, fully dwarf, fully elf if the mother is the non-tallman etc. 

Also i like to think that one of the concubines can be from the western continent so that Kabru can have a western continent community connection in Melini ❤️ Like maybe one of the concubines from the Western Continent has a retinue that Kabru becomes close to and its all very culturally healing for him, even if it’s of course not quite the same area. Soothe that part of his heart which is seeking something missing, missing something left behind (in Utaya). Would also be amusing for Marcille to potentially have some flopventures in dykeland with these women too.

Laios likes hanging out with the concubines and learning from them since they come from many distant places, and though hes detached from the idea of being a father or husband (I guess he wouldn’t even be anyone’s husband bc they’re “just” concubines), he still tries to be in their lives even though its still not really As A Father or Romantic Partner but as like The King/their friend /the guy their mom’s work for. 

And because I’m a cyclical domestic drama sicko, I like the idea of it creating another situation for Laios to be something of an imperfect, somewhat distant, “father” and “romantic partner” like his father was, even if its borne from completely different situations and with completely different approach. Because as much as he can become friends with the concubines and their children, their dependence on the tangible power granted by their relationships to him will make it so there will always be parts of himself that he holds back, compared to say with Marcille or Kabru whom he also works closely with but who have a different relationship to him. Like Laios will always be something of an enigma to these women and to the children who are nominally his.  Particularly since they will never have known him as he was before he ended up trapped in the position of King, which he sorely does not want and is expressly unhappy with. Like here is their partner or their father, the King who achieved such fantastical things, but who ultimately, despite the meaningful loving friendships in his life, is a deeply unfulfilled and melancholy man.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Dadstarion prompt:

Caretaker takes the kid to a fair, playground, restaurant or shopping, just spending the day and having fun together

Ha! Take that. Pure fluff. What could possibly go wrong??

Synopsis: Tiriel and Astarion take Alethaine to a fair.

Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, fluff, a snippet into the future

Another fluffy thing I have written! And there is also a snippet into the distant future with adult Tiri who hasn't inherited her mother's macabre nature!

Alethaine's age - 12-years-old

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Guide on How To Skin Monsters

Tiriel stops at the daggers’ stall. All of them look rather dull and Tiriel decides to search for something better for Astarion. Besides, he prefers to choose weapons for himself and Tiriel can always get something else – a book, jewelry, or a shirt. He always huffs when she brings him gifts, but she knows he is grateful for those little reminders of her care.

“Looking for something?” A merchant, a halfling woman, asks.

“Nothing in particular,” Tiriel says.

The halfling is definitely in the mood for talking and starts gossiping about a feud between two noble human houses, a serious plague “originated by giants” and someone’s wife cheating with an ork.

“Oh, and have you heard? There was a murder in Secomber! The whole family was slaughtered and by whom? A dhampir!”

Tiriel takes her eyes off the daggers.

“Yes! A half-vampire! Can you imagine sleeping with a vampire? But I think their mother was assaulted. Anyway, the dhampir grew up and slaughtered the whole family! Those half-undead are merciless cruel creatures, and they say there are so many of them!”

“Yeah… cruel monsters they are,” Tiriel mutters.

She heard of the slaughter, but there were no dhampirs or vampires involved. Just a young man possessed by a dryad. He was hanged a week later, but someone started spreading rumors his mother fucked a vampire and that’s why her child grew up so bloodthirsty. 

Tiriel feels pale hands hugging her waist from behind. Alethaine presses her face against her back – she is 12 but she is still cuddly as a little child.

“Oh, is this your daughter? Such an adorable little girl. How old is she?”

“Alethaine,” Tiriel touches her fingers.

“I am twelve,” she says, trying not to betray her fangs.

“Oh… I am sorry… didn’t notice she was an elf.” The merchant apologizes and then proceeds  to tell other gossip.  

“Have a nice day,” Tiriel says, taking Alethaine’s hand.

“You too! And beware the dhampirs!”

“Beware the dhampirs my ass,” Tiriel says, moving further away from the obnoxious halfling.

“I can bite her,” Alethaine suggests. She is twelve, but elves mature slower than humans and half-elves and Tiriel notices her daughter sometimes behaves like a younger child.

“No, we are not biting people we don't like.”

“Dad wouldn’t mind if I bit her!”

“Hm, good thing it’s daylight then!” Tiriel rubs Alethaine’s ear. She knows her daughter too well not to notice the merchant’s words upset her. 

Cruel merciless creatures? Alethaine cries her eyes out every time someone dies in the books she reads! Well, she mostly sympathizes with dragons and monsters – but also with orphan children, victims of arranged marriages and curses. 

And little dead animals. 

Little dead animals are a whole different story. It’s been three years, but Alethaine still feels sorry about an albino kitten killed by a stranger. The dhampir accidentally resurrected the pet and now Tiriel and Astarion also face the issue of raising a necromancer.

“Hey, don’t be sad!” Tiriel leans to a little dhampir. “Do you want anything?”

Alethaine doesn't answer. She stops by the book stall completely enchanted by a huge black volume covered in leather. 

How to Skin Monsters.

Aletaine immediately flips the pages, and Tiriel sees intricate and creepy pictures of the insides of different beasts and monsters. She’d fought many of them in her lifetime (beholders in the Underdark are still one of her worst memories), but never ever did she want to look at their remains, let alone study them.

“Hey, don’t touch it!'' The merchant tries to take the book away from Alethaine’s hands, but the dhampir keeps holding it with her iron grip. “I think this book is rather dark for a little lady like you.”

“Mum, look, the cover is made of human skin,” Alethaine casually says. “No. It’s half-elf actually.”

“No it isn’t!” The merchant protests. “It’s… wolfskin!”

Liar, Tiriel realizes. She has good perception skills, and the merchant lies. And the dhampir necromancer has already passed the verdict. 

Alethaine puts the book away and takes another one – a green volume with letters in Espruar. 

“Is it just a collection of stories or the real guide on Feywild?’” Alethaine asks. “People who have never messed with fey write all sorts of fairytale stuff about pink unicorns and fairies who grant wishes.” She opens the book which is written with trembling handwriting. “Oh, I see. Looks like a feverish nightmare. So the writer has been there.”

The book merchant looks at Tiriel with a facial expression she knows too well. 

What crypt did you find this child in?

“I have some ballads and traveler guides. Maybe...it is more for your age?” he asks

“Travelers guide on what places?”

“Icewind Dale, but it’s a rather uncomfortable read…”

“I’ve read about Icewind Dale,” suddenly something else attracts her attention and she points at a small book with a dragon on its cover. “Show me this!”

The merchant sighs in relief and reaches for the storybook. Tiriel looks at the pages – even though she still experiences issues with reading, she sees that it's just an adventure story about knights, princes, dragons, and treasure hunting.

Something her daughter stopped reading when she was five or six.

“I will take this too,” Alethaine declares.

“Eighty silver for all three,” the merchant says.

Too much, Tiriel thinks. Alethaine frowns but doesn’t try to bargain. For some reason, she is very shy when it comes to arguments.

“Thirty silver,” Tiriel intervenes. “And we are not telling anyone about the half-elf skin you’ve bound the book with.”

“It’s not made of anyone’s skin!”

“I can hear her screams,” Alethaine whispers, flipping the book pages. “They flayed her when she was still alive!”

The merchant gulps. Tiriel chuckles. So, this is true and the merchant knew it.

“All right. Thirty,” he mutters and Alethaine happily gives him the silver coins. 

Alethaine puts the books in her black bag and wishes the merchant good night. The man mutters something not appropriate for children’s ears.

“Did you catch the scent of the skin or it’s more like your necromancy skills?” Tiriel asks, taking her daughter’s hand as they stand by the stall with needles and threads. 

She shrugs. “I-I don’t know. Maybe both.”

“Do you know if Dad needs something to sew?” Tiriel still can’t really tell apart shades of the same color and all needles look the same to her. 

“Take the black threads,” Alethaine says, touching the samples of fabric. “He’s always out of them.”

Tiriel nods. She doesn’t know why and when Astarion decided to make all his daughter’s wardrobe black, but here they are. Alethaine got from black onesies to black dresses, from black nappies to black skirts, gloves, and coats. Only her shoes and boots aren’t made by Astarion - and they are as pitch dark as everything else.

A few hours later, at sunset, they sit on the grass outside the market. It’s a beautiful summer sunset and Tiriel adores the light. Alethaine sits on her traveling cape and takes out one of her new books. 

“Interesting?”

“Uh-um,” she nods, completely taken away.

Tiriel smiles to herself. She’s never been a stranger to violence and dark things – if you faint at the sight of a blood sacrifice, you won’t survive in the wilderness. But having a child like this takes everything to another level.

Death, dark arts, corpses – they have  a special appeal to Alethaine, the same one Tiriel feels towards fights.

The sun sets and Tiriel sits beside Alethaine. Darkvision allows her to see in gray colors and Tiriel sees a picture of the monster inside.

“All right, now I understand who all these people were who hired me to bring them certain parts of the beasts I killed.”

“Dad is coming,” she says. “Or another vampire, but I think Dad scared all of them away.”

Tiriel smiles. “Good thing vampires hate the presence of each other.” She stands up and approaches the edge of the hill. Yes, Alethaine is right – Astarion has left his daylight shelter in the nearby inn. She can see his silhouette from the distance – white hair and black armor she can’t mix with anyone else.

She waves to him and he quickens his steps. 

“Hello, darling,” he murmurs in her ear the moment he hugs her. Astarion pecks her cheek and Tiriel rubs his left ear.

“Dad! Look what I’ve bought!” 

Tiriel thinks Alethaine will show him the anatomy book, but, instead, she hands him the adventure story.

Astarion studies the first page, then another. Tiriel watches them carefully.

“I just don’t get it,” Alethaine admits. “Is it about how to enter the thieves’ guild or how to smuggle drugs?”

“None,” Astarion returns her the book. “It’s about how to find a job as a bounty hunter in Neverwinter.”

“Oh, I misread the symbols then,” Alethaine pouts.

“Wait, the book is in Thieves Cant?” Triel asks.

“Yes. Hidden deep under snotty stories,” Astarion answers. “And what are these two monstrosities?”

Alethaine proudly opens the anatomy book as Astarion studies the Feywild one. Tiriel barely prevents herself from laughing as she sees Astarion cringing at the pictures. Vampire or not, he saw so many disgusting and cruel things he hated looking at them. 

Then Alethaine yawns. 

“Let’s go home,” Tiriel says. It will take them till sunrise to return to Daggerlake. If they don't hurry they will need to set up a camp for the daylight - or leave Astarion behind which Tirel absolutely hates to do.

It’s not like it’s a big deal right now – thirty-two years since he gained his freedom, he has nothing to fear. More than that, Tiriel is sure there is simply no other monster in the area who could be a threat to Astarion. He is a vampire, an undead, a skilled rogue, a dangerous assassin.

But when he is alone, the nightmares slowly crawl back. The loneliness fuels his memories and there are so many of them. Thirty-two years are simply not enough. Astarion can handle that too – he’s learned to. But Tiriel doesn’t want him to face mental struggles if it can be avoided.

Alethaine walks in front of them and Tiriel takes Astarion’s hand in hers. They are her little family – everything she’s ever wished for. 

She looks at Astarion and notices his lips are squeezed and there is some anxiety in his eyes.

Hunger.

“Go for a hunt, we will wait for you”.

“Nonsense, let’s return home sooner.”

Tiriel doesn’t push it. They agreed years ago that Alethaine isn’t to see him dining on her mother (because it’s absolutely a sexual thing and must remain behind closed doors) and also that she shouldn’t see him feed on animals (because her dhamprisim might get awoken – blood will tempt her and they don’t want their daughter to become more a vampire then she already is).

Of course, she isn't stupid, she knows her father drinks blood. She often sees bite marks on Tiriel when she forgets to cover them – but the process remains out of sight.

It’s already sunrise when they reach Daggerlake and Astarion walks forward not to risk staying in the sun.

By the time they return home, Alethaine rushes upstairs to prepare for sleep. She sleeps a lot, even more than a human would – and Tiriel wonders how much dhampirism affects her sleeping habits.

“So, is the book really about how to be a mercenary?” Tiriel asks closing the door to the bedroom

Astarion has already put off his doublet and now sits on the bed watching Tiriel.

He waits.

“Yes. It was a guide on how to find people who will give her a job as a mercenary,” he slowly answers as if he had to concentrate on speaking. His eyes are focused on her neck. 

“And can she read this book?”

“She thought it was about smugglers and thieves. Her skills aren’t that good.”

Tiriel approaches Astarion and he tugs her closer, forcing her to sit on his lap.

Astarion is no longer a sweet caring elf – his predatory side is on the loose and he pierces her skin with his nails as the fangs are looking for the vein.

Tiriel wraps her hands around his neck and lets herself drown in painful pleasure. 

“Take as much as you need,” she murmurs. “I love you.”

She feels like falling into the warm dark void and, when she almost crosses the border of no return, the tender hands let her go and she finds herself on the bed with Astarion carefully applying a bandage on her fresh bite mark.

“Thank you,” he says, kissing her with his blood-stained lips.

“Will you stay with me when I sleep?”

“Of course,” he chuckles. “Besides Alethaine has occupied the bathroom – she isn't getting out any time soon”

“Oh… and I forgot…” Tiriel points at her bag. “I’ve bought you some black threads and new needles.”

Astarion kisses her cheek. “Such a caring and thoughtful wild girl. Now I have something to occupy myself with while you are asleep.” He takes her nightshirt from the floor. “Do you have anything in mind? I noticed you’ve ripped it.”

“Me? Astarion, you rip my clothes all the time!”

He unfolds the shirt showing the ripped collar. “Yeah, I agree. My fault. So, what patch do you want?”

“Maybe a dragon? A black one?”

Astarion covers her with a blanket – the one she uses when she sleeps alone – and sits on the floor with the shirt and the needle.

“I have a daughter who likes seeing monsters’ inside-outs and a wife who likes murdering monsters. Can someone in this family enjoy nice and cute things?” He pouts.

“Imagine Alethaine having a child who enjoys such things. She will pout then, ‘no one in her family has taste for macabre’”.

Astarion chuckles, and Tiriel wraps herself in the blanket. 

Safe. She feels safe. 

And loved.

**

Sewing has always helped Astarion to concentrate. It’s been centuries since he needed to shut the darkness up. Memories of his enslavement, memories of the misery have faded away and feel like a distant nightmare. 

But habits never truly go, and Astarion enjoys sewing patches and repairing clothes even though the old purpose of that process has long gone.

“You know, for someone who is an elf and was raised as an elf, you are very messy,” Astarion says looking at the ripped cape. It looks like it was chewed by a tarrasque.

“It’s not my fault! I was careful!” Tiri objects. She is making new arrows (as she lost the whole quiver while running from a particularly nasty behir in the Underdark the previous day).

Astarion chuckles. Tiri, his granddaughter, showed up at his place deep in the Fairgheight Range five years ago. Red-haired like her grandmother, she was eager to see the world beyond the Isle of Evermeet – and she still doesn’t show any desire neither to return to her parents nor leave him be and travel alone. 

“What patches do you want?” Astarion asks and takes his sewing kit from the traveling sack. 

“Well, I am an adult independent woman…” Tiri starts.

“You are thirty and you are an elf. You are basically a child.”

“Hm, you were a magistrate and mum would work for smugglers using her necromantic skills. Barely a child activity.”

“So?”

“I want a unicorn patch,” Tiri finally admits. “Or a butterfly. Don’t laugh, ar’o’su!”

“I don’t, damia,” Astarion finds white threads. “Besides, Alethaine has never been fond of cute and nice things.”

“Mum has her own idea of what is nice and what is cute,” Tiri touches a thin tiara on her hair. While all Tiri’s clothes are made according to Wood Elves traditions, her father’s ancestors, the tiara is pitch black and with a small skull in the center. It definitely belonged to Alethaine and then she just passed it to her only daughter. 

Tiri puts the new arrows on the ground and lies on her bedroll to reverie. Her drake, Aurix, immediately nestles on her chest like a cat.

Astarion casts a glance at his granddaughter. She has a certain similarity to Tiriel – and Astarion knows she would have loved her. But half-elves have such an offensive short life span in comparison with elves she had no chance to see little Tiri. At the same time, her facial features are her mother’s and sometimes she speaks like her. There is something else, something unfamiliar – Tiri’s father and their ancestors.

And she loves cute and nice things - and cringes at the sight of monsters’ inside-outs. Necromancy scares Tiri and she admits she’s never been to her mother’s dungeons just because of how uncanny it was for her.  And elves would often joke that their “witch-queen” just kidnapped Tiri because no way someone like Alethaine could give birth to such a sweet young woman. 

Astarion pierces the fabric with the needle.

“Well, so be it, a unicorn.”

-- Tag list

@tugoslovenka  

@herstxrgirl 

@herdarkestnightelegance  

@vixstarria 

@not-so-lost-after-all  

@marcynomercy  

@theearthsfinalconfession 

@starlight-ipomoea    

@micropoe10 

@astarion-imagine-archive  

@veillsar

@elora-the-slutty-songstress  

@fayeriess  

@lumienyx  

@tallymonster    

@caitlincat-95  

@tragedybunny  

@valeprati  

@lynnlovesthestars   

@marina-and-the-memes  

@waking-eyes   

@ayselluna  

@connorsui  

@asterordinary  

@darkarchangel96  

@locallegume  

@brainfullofhotsauce   

@coffeeanddonutscafe  

@my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen 

@queenofthespacesquids  

@ednaaa-04  

@dajeong

@wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

[bansheeys]

Sylvanas bakes something for Jaina. It either ends up miraculously tasting incredible, or being a complete disaster from start to finish.

This prompt occurs sometime in my Tangled Fates fic, where Jaina travels to another timeline where she and Sylvanas are married.

Thanks for the idea! Hope you enjoy it!

Now I want donuts...

----------------

With the final stroke of Sylvanas’ elegant, elvish signature, the office door swung open. She looked up to see her very pregnant wife walking toward her with determination.

“You know you’re banned from coming in here, right, Dalah’surfal?” Sylvanas said, her tone only half-joking.

Jaina was just days away from giving birth and had been forbidden from entering the office. The healers had prescribed bed rest to reduce her stress, which meant no paperwork or overseeing the kingdom.

As much as Sylvanas detested paperwork, she was willing to shoulder Jaina’s responsibilities. Her wife, however, was not pleased. Jaina had tried to sneak into the office many times, like an elf addicted to mana, twitching to tend to the paperwork. Sylvanas had ultimately prohibited her from entering the office.

“I’m not here for paperwork,” Jaina said. She lowered herself into the chair in front of the desk, resting her hand on her stomach and looking uncomfortable. “I have a favor to ask.”

Sylvanas set down her pen and tilted her head. “Luckily, I’m done for the day. What does your heart desire?”

Jaina looked down at her hands, fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. “I have a craving...”

Throughout the pregnancy, it wasn’t unusual for Jaina to crave something sweet. She once woke in the middle of the night wanting rice pudding. Now, all she wanted was rice pudding. 

“I think there’s one serving of the pudding left,” Sylvanas said.

“No!” Jaina practically shouted, causing Sylvanas to raise her eyebrows. “I’m craving something unusual. It requires a bit of effort.”

Now, Sylvanas was curious about what Jaina wanted. So far, her wife’s cravings had been fairly ordinary. Vereesa had warned her about this—she’d craved cherry pie topped with cheese when she was pregnant with the twins.

“You know I’ll get you anything, Jaina.”

“Okay... this is very specific, and I understand if you don’t want to go through the trouble of getting it...”

“Jaina, just tell me what you want.”

“In Dalaran, a high elf with a bakery stall sells the most delicious glazed donuts!”

Sylvanas stared at her, confused. The request didn’t seem unreasonable or odd, and she couldn’t understand why Jaina was nervous. There was nothing unusual about this craving.

“Let me tidy up here, and then I’ll head out,” Sylvanas said, rising from the desk.

“Wait, there’s more…”

“Do I need to make a list?” 

Jaina squeezed her eyes shut. “I want pickles, too. But the pickles have to be on top of the donut.”

Sylvanas curled her lip in disgust. “That... is an interesting choice.”

“I told you it was a strange craving.”

----------------

The kitchen was in chaos. Mixing bowls were scattered everywhere, their rims dripping with batter residue onto the counter. A bag of sugar had spilled onto the floor beside broken eggshells, leaving the floor sticky.

Sylvanas had never been much of a baker. She loathed when her father dragged her into the kitchen, insisting she learn to cook. Sylvanas preferred spending her time on archery and trap skills. Eventually, her father gave up on her ever mastering the culinary arts. 

Her hair was pinned up in a messy bun, and flour was splattered across her face. If Sylvanas were alive, she imagined she’d be a sweaty mess from kneading the dough. 

She hadn’t realized how challenging baking could be. Had she known it was this difficult, she would have asked Aimee, the bakery stall owner, for recommendations on other places that sold glazed donuts.

When Sylvanas arrived in Dalaran, she realized the high elf had started closing shop early. She recalled the surprised look Aimee had given her when Sylvanas approached the stall.

Aimee relaxed at the mention of Jaina’s name, revealing that Jaina had been a daily visitor to the stall during her time in Dalaran.

When Sylvanas requested a glazed donut, Aimee frowned. The baker had run out of them—Khadgar had ordered the last dozen for a so-called secret meeting.

Perhaps it was the oversized pickle jar Sylvanas was carrying or the crushing blow clear across her face, but Aimee took pity on her. The baker quickly scribbled down the recipe for the famous donuts.

Sylvanas darted around Dalaran, collecting the ingredients without regard for their cost. She was eager to get back home and begin making the donuts.

Sylvanas sighed as the dough started to become soft and slightly sticky. The shopkeeper had assured her that the flour had magical properties, eliminating the need for the dough to rise. Sylvanas was grateful for that convenience.

When Sylvanas returned home, Jaina was at the door, eager to snatch the items from her hands. Sylvanas quickly devised an excuse to keep her wife occupied while she made the donuts.

“It’s a surprise,” Sylvanas told Jaina.

Jaina eyed her with curiosity. Before she could bombard Sylvanas with questions about the surprise, Sylvanas gently nudged her toward the office. She suggested that Jaina handle the more mundane paperwork, though, to be fair, Jaina found all paperwork exciting.

Sylvanas moved swiftly around the kitchen, grabbing a rolling pin and the bag of flour. She dusted the counter with flour before rolling the dough into large balls.

Once Sylvanas was finished, she arranged the donuts on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and set them aside while she prepared the glaze.

The glaze was a blend of powdered sugar and vanilla extract, promising sweet goodness. Sylvanas was tempted to taste it but knew it would likely taste like ash in her mouth. With a sigh, she stirred the sugar, water, and vanilla extract until the sugar dissolved.

Sylvanas moved to the stove, where a Dutch oven was heating up. She checked the thermometer to gauge the oil’s temperature and smiled when it was precisely where she wanted it.

Sylvanas picked up the baking sheet of donuts, lifted the Dutch oven lid, and carefully lowered two donuts into the hot oil. She let them fry until they were golden brown on each side.

Once golden, Sylvanas quickly removed the donuts, dipping each into the glaze one by one, and then placed them on a wire rack to put the pickles on top. She repeated the process until all the donuts were finished.

As the donuts cooled and the glaze set, Sylvanas beamed with pride. She had never baked anything so intricate before. Though she knew these donuts probably wouldn’t match the ones from Aimee’s stall, she hoped Jaina would enjoy them.

“Sylvanas, what are you doing?” a voice called behind her. 

Sylvanas turned to see Jaina standing in the doorway with a hint of annoyance. Jaina glanced around the kitchen, taking in the mess scattered across the floor and counters.

Sylvanas gently walked over, took Jaina’s arm, and guided her to a stool. “Come sit,” she said. “I want you to try something.”

Jaina narrowed her eyes as she sat down, her gaze sweeping over the kitchen’s disarray. “Sylvanas, you had me go into the office after you returned, and now you’ve made a mess of our kitchen.”

Sylvanas ignored Jaina’s complaints. Instead, she grabbed a small plate from the cabinet and placed a cooled donut on it. Then, Sylvanas set the plate in front of Jaina, stopping her mid-sentence.

Jaina glanced at the plate and then looked up at Sylvanas. “What’s this?”

“I went to the stall, but it turns out Khadgar had taken the last of the donuts,” Sylvanas explained.

“That bastard,” Jaina muttered under her breath.

“So, Aimee gave me the recipe, and I made my own,” Sylvanas said, her nerves surfacing as she worried Jaina might not like her baking.

“You made this? For me?” Jaina asked. Sylvanas nodded with a coy smile.

Jaina grinned as she picked up the donut and examined it closely. Sylvanas held her breath while Jaina took a bite. Jaina closed her eyes as she chewed, then moaned in delight.

As Jaina finished the donut and licked the glaze from her fingers, Sylvanas let out a relieved sigh. “Was it okay?” she asked.

“Sylvanas, it was amazing! If I’m not careful, I’ll eat three more!” Jaina laughed. Sylvanas joined in the laughter, pleased that Jaina enjoyed the donut. “Come here,” Jaina said, inviting her closer.

Sylvanas leaned over the counter as Jaina had asked. Jaina kissed her, her lips still smeared with the sweet glaze. Sylvanas was surprised to taste the sweetness lingering on Jaina’s lips.

“Who would have thought pickles and donuts would make such a great combination?” Jaina joked as she reached for 

another donut.

“Our daughter has quite the interesting palate,” Sylvanas said with a grimace at the unusual combination of flavors. 

“Let’s hope she doesn’t decide to become a chef.”

[yarrayora]

So I love your thoughts on post king Laois and prince-elector Falin, and I propose some more options for prince-electors:

First, I think Laois would really try to get as many people from different races as possible, especially because it seems his kingdom has more diversity than others (it ends with him talking with an orc child, after all, so we know that along with "humans" there are at least some "demi-humans" as well)

So, the first prince elector is of course Falin. I don't think she represents either the Tallmen or demi-humans, given that she's. Well. A chimera. So I think later, her role would be filled by a family member close to the current ruler. Or maybe a random citizen! Who knows.

The next prince-elector is for the Tallmen. I want to say Kabru, but people might be worried he's too influenced by the elves (even though we know he isn't). Perhaps that goes to an advisor that Kabru carefully selects. Or maybe Kabru himself because Laois doesn't care about optics, he wants his friend Kabru to help him.

After that, a prince-elector for the Halflings. I think Laois, who knows how important Chilchuck's union work is to him, would want to make sure there's someone who can advocate for them. Chilchuck might not want to do it himself (I could see him going either way) but I think at the very least Laois would ask Chilchuck who to choose.

Prince-elector for the gnomes would be Mr. Tansu. Not just because he's one of the few named gnomes, but I think it's good to have someone who isn't completely won over by Laois.

For dwarves, you may think it's Senshi, but no. He's not the kinda guy who cares for that. Not Namari either. But Daya would be good, I think. She apparently was a "guardian of a dungeon" and I think Laois would like to keep someone who knows and respects dungeons on his elector board. Plus, unlike Senshi, I think she is more in tune with what the dwarves would need from a king.

Marcille might be another no-brainer for the elf rep, but she's also no at first. We know she's terrified of losing her friends, and I think she would be really upset at being put in the position of having to choose a "replacement" for her friends. So they set up Mithrun in there first, if only because he would be the hardest for the other elves to influence. After all, he supports Laois and how can you bribe someone who can't even say what he wants most of the time? But eventually, perhaps after a generation or two, Marcille will have enough time to distance herself emotionally from the kingdom and become ready to step up to being the elf prince-elector.

The orcs are a bit more of a headcanon. So, I love the concept of political marriages and the way society shapes the idea of what is platonic/sexual/romantic. So I think Laois would get politically married to Leed. Not only because he loves monsters, but because the other races tolerate each other's sentience. They have their racism, but at least all "humans" are considered human. But demi-humans or monsters like orcs--while they are considered *kinda* human, they're also not. They're treated as more monster than human. So I think if Laois wants to successfully establish orcs as equal citizens of his kingdom, he needs to show that they are truly equal to humans, regardless of how many bones they have. And I know Leed is scared of Laois, but we see that she's willing to "make the sacrifice" to be his wife when her brother suggests it for the good of their people. Bonus, it fills the slot of queen so one less thing for Kabru and Yaad to worry about. So, political marriage. And yes, Leed takes a while to warm up to the Devourer, but I think she'll eventually see that Laois does love her people. I think she would eventually come to love him the way Izutsumi and Falin do. And even if they did have little half orcs, I could see Laois being like "I'm not gonna raise my kids like my dad did, training them to force them into a position they don't want". His kids can make a bid to be the next ruler if they want, but he won't force them.

All this to say, he would let his wife, Queen Leed, choose the orc prince-elector.

Izutsumi has a chair. She doesn't sit in it though, because she's like Marcille in that she would hate being forced to choose a "replacement" for a friend. She also doesn't sit in it because she's a cat. Izutsumi.

yep! basically the plan is to keep an equal amount of humans and demihumans as prince-electors (years later the term demihumans will be contested, as it's basically a vague term used to discriminate against various short-lived races as subhuman) (it is a realization falin came across to when during her travel around the world various establishments refuse to serve her, citing her feathery neck as proof that she's a demihuman)

the thing about Falin is she might be a chimera but she grew up a tallman with the perspective of a tallman. she ABSOLUTELY represents the tallmen as a prince-elector. so instead of another tallmen, they choose a kobold as the second member of the electoral college

you're right about chilchuck though. his first reaction would be "WHAT THE HELL'S WITH THAT FANCY TITLE? GET OUT OF MY HOUSE" before finally sitting down and listen to laios' explanation of his plan. chilchuck REALLY doesn't want peerage, but he also honestly. kinda doesn't trust anyone else to represent the halflings... so he takes on the responsibility.

as for mr. tansu i don't think he'll ever leave kahka brud. in the end theyll choose a gnome completely unrelated to laios' party. same with the dwarf! though that one is based on daya's recommendation. because daya herself doesn't seem to be to keen on politics.

same with mr. tansu, mithrun belongs to the western elves. he will not be part of the electoral college because he's not a citizen there lmao. milsiril will try to move there because of kabru, though uh, she doesn't fit their criteria of a Prince-Elector either. i can see them inviting marcille's mother in the end, since she has the experience working at a royal tallmen's court before.

i do think if it's to give the orc an honorable position, laios would give in and get politically married but like... the whole thing with inventing the electoral college thing is so he doesn't have to fulfill the societal expectations of being a husband and a father. so if he got married to Leed and then fail to perform (in like, the way autistic people has to perform in society, ya feel) as a loving husband in front of his court, they'll think Leed doesn't have his favor and shoves their own daughters his way. Kabru would be aware of this and not pressure Laios to get a queen. In fact he would talk Yaad out of pressuring Laios lmao

so, no, i don't think he'll ever get politically married to anyone ever. not when he has painstakingly created a system of succession that ensure he won't have to get married and have sex for the next heir to be produced. The Prince-Elector is already an honorable title to have, having Leed as one is enough to show that the orcs are not being treated as second-class citizens.

and yeah i think it would be Leed because while originally Zon was the one who received the offer, he refuses citing the fact that he has the responsibility to look after his tribe and that responsibility will clash with the responsibility of a Prince-Elector. he nominates his sister instead.

for izutsumi ngl my idea for her is that she becomes this folktale kind of charming rogue character because she makes money by escorting caravans through the monster-infested land surrounding laios' kingdom. there are children's books about her. she doesn't know she's popular.

[autistichalsin]

Do you happen to how / have made a good timeline of The Shadowlands? What was there before? What it was called? When it fell? IIRC one of the writers confirmed that the rude pale elf in the list of customers banned from the pub was a reference to Astarion. IDK is that was canon or more a joke that stayed in. Having a collected resource on that would be amazing for plotting out fics!

I have no idea if the banned elf was Astarion- I've seen conflicting things on it. But for everything else:

So, the Shadow-Cursed Lands cover primarily the town of Reithwin along with Moonrise, in the Western Heartlands. Thaniel is the nature spirit of this land. (Sidenote: because nature spirits can't really leave the area they embody, and Halsin knew Thaniel as a child, this implies that Halsin grew up somewhere near here, probably in a nearby forest. Since he also mentions his family being buried in High Forest, which is quite far away, it seems likely that they moved at some point, or maybe they lived in the area for a few generations but still considered themselves to have very strong ties to High Forest.)

As for a timeline of the Shadow Curse:

1142: Halsin is born in a forest, most likely near Reithwin. Over the next years, he becomes close friends with the nature spirit Thaniel. Growing while Thaniel stays the same age drives him to decide to become a Druid, as he realized nature, his first friend, needed protecting. After his last family member passes away (Halsin being the youngest son of an ancient line of elves that faded out due to illness and accidents, according to Halsin's writer), Halsin is "turned over to the Druids," at a "comparatively young age" (per his writer).

Sometimes before 1392: Isobel Thorm, Ketheric's daughter, is born. Melodia, Isobel's mother, and Ketheric's wife, tragically passes away.

Sometime between this and 1392: Dame Aylin arrives in Reithwin. She and Isobel Thorm fall in love at first sight.

Roughly 1392: Isobel dies. In Early Access, this was at Halsin's hands, as a fight broke out due to Shar's influence, causing Isobel to attack Halsin, and him to stab her on reflex. In the full release version, this was cut, and no one seems to know exactly how or why she died. Ketheric is devastated by grief, converts to Shar worship, and gathers an army of Dark Justiciars.

Later in 1392: The Archdruid who served the Emerald Grove before Halsin gathers a group of Druids and Harpers (including Jaheira) to face them; they win, with many losses, but Ketheric uses Shar's powers to unleash the Shadow Curse as revenge. Almost all the Druids and Harpers who had survived are then killed by the curse. Halsin takes what survivors he can manage, gets back to the Emerald Grove, and is appointed the new Archdruid. Some days later, he returns to the Shadow-Cursed Lands looking for survivors, finds the Shadow-Cursed version of the previous Archdruid, and is forced to kill it. He keeps his glaive as a "reminder that victory can taste bitter" and locks it away, along with his journal from that day. (In the original, this glaive/dagger, called Sorrow, was the weapon Halsin used to kill Isobel, and had a different journal to go with it talking about his guilt.) This curse, of course, also causes the nature spirit Thaniel to be split in two. One half is trapped in the Shadowfell, while the other half stays in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, eventually becoming Oliver.

Meanwhile, Dame Aylin is kidnapped by Ketheric Thorm and locked away so he can leech her power to make himself immortal.

1392-1492: Halsin spends the next 100 years researching the curse and trying to gain Silvanus's favor to be able to break it. Almost everyone else abandons the land; Jaheira admits to doing so, and a note Halsin wrote laments that the Emerald Enclave wouldn't help even if he asked. The few people who do attempt to go there perish- a Druid from another community got some information from Halsin, tried to enter the land, and then fell to the Curse. Some lines Halsin had in Early Access indicated that his being there when the curse fell and his empathy with the suffering of the Shadow-Cursed Lands/its people were key in his ability to later break the curse.

Meanwhile, Art Cullagh, a Flaming Fist, is trapped in the Shadowfell with Thaniel. They form a very close friendship, and Thaniel repeatedly tells Art that Halsin- and only Halsin- can save him.

At some point, Ketheric converts to worshipping Myrkul in exchange for resurrecting Isobel, becomes his Chosen, and helps hatch the Absolute plot along with Gortash and the Dark Urge.

1492: Shortly before the start of canon, Halsin meets Aradin and his band of adventurers, who tell him they're looking for the Nightsong at Moonrise Towers. Seeing a chance to investigate both the Curse and the modified mindflayer tadpoles he's encountered, Halsin joins them, then is betrayed when they're attacked by goblins and Aradin promptly abandons Halsin to the goblins.

After that comes everything in canon with the Break the Shadow Curse quest and all of its sub-quests.

1493, roughly: In the 6 months after the curse is broken, Halsin (/and Tav, if applicable) repurpose what was left of Reithwin to become a new community for those needing a new start, the narrator noting that it's "hidden from those who are not welcome, open to any who need shelter." Halsin is noted to have "built a schoolhouse in a day" for all the nine wagonfuls of children who joined their community, and become an unofficial leader of the community. He says that the place is unrecognizable in a good way, with the scars rapidly becoming invisible even to those who know what happened.

Sadly, Art Cullagh passes away sometime between the curse breaking and the epilogue, but he remained close to Thaniel until the end, and it is noted that Thaniel and Oliver come to the community often to play.

I think that's everything for the parts of the Shadow-Curse story we don't directly play through in canon!

Random interesting fact that @ride-a-dromedary and I noticed: the name "Reithwin" is one letter off from "Relthwin", the Elvish word for "refuge". That may or may not be intentional.

[justporo]

A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 6)

In which Astarion basically says "Murder is okay, but it's not okay to disrespect my wife". A lot of swearing in this one, be warned - also Astarion's bares his claws.

So - ARE YOU READY FOR ANOTHER ONE?? I'm honestly so tired, at the moment, it's doing my job at day, being a fanfic writer and servant to the fandom at night. Which results in poor sleep schedule and eating habits. Didn't even get to keep playing for a few days. But I love all the things happening, all the content people create and people liking my content as well - after all I am just as prone to flattery as Astarion is.

Also I should make a post where I will link all chapters - I will do that probably tonight or tomorrow - depending on how quick writing the next part will be.

You know the drill by now, you can already continue reading on AO3!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

(Gif from here!)

Astarion quickly made to take everyone’s drink orders. When Daegin opted to get off his stool and get himself another beer and almost fell off it, Eodin just about caught him and convinced him to take a round of water. So the dwarf complained and made to rest his head on the table.

Before Astarion left for the bar he threw a quick questioning glance at you, with it asking if it would be okay to leave you for a few moments. You nodded slightly and smiled reassuringly at him but in fact you were dreading to be alone with these people even though they were your friends.

When Lira offered to go with him to help carry everything your heart sank even deeper. Closing your eyes for a short moment, you steeled yourself for the words that would definitely be had once Astarion and Lira would be out of earshot. At least they would think that, when you were pretty sure Astarion would use every one of his heightened vampiric and elven senses to not miss a single word.

When you opened your eyes again you saw how Lira practically beamed at Astarion who was much taller than her. She didn’t even reach his shoulders. Lira had always been your closest friend in the group, she was truly a sweetheart – you had wondered how she did make such a formidable thief though since she seemed so honest and soft. You were more than sure Astarion already had a place in her heart, and she would use the moments she had to completely obliterate the vampire with many more questions about him and your relationship. The thought made you smile.

Astarion swiftly and elegantly managed to navigate through the now much bigger crowd to the bar while making sure the much smaller half-elf wasn’t pushed over by anyone in the pretty drunk crowd. You could barely make a step without bumping into people, so he softly touched her shoulder, kept his hand there lightly and motioned her to walk in front of him, so she wouldn’t be elbowed in the face by accident. She was completely oblivious to his show of polite chivalry since she had started bombarding him with questions about himself and Tav.

“Have you been together long? Did you save her like a hero on a white horse and she inevitably fell for you? Wait, you said, she saved you, what happened? Are you staying in Baldur’s Gate? We have to meet again some time, I need to know absolutely everything. You two are such a beautiful couple, Gods, you would have gorgeous babies! Does she make you happy? She seems so happy, I’ve never seen her this happy, you have to take good care of her for me, promise?” Astarion kept softly nudging her to get her to move to the bar while she basically kept walking backwards and blabbering. Since he was also trying to focus on the conversation that no doubt was going on at the table he had just left, he only gave pretty short answers to Lira: “A few months now. Once or twice, no horse needed though, they bite too much for my liking. Much longer story. We are. I’m sure we can. Uhm, thank you.” But the last few things Lira had said and asked made Astarion focus entirely on her. He looked at her expecting face and replied: “She makes me very happy and in a way, I didn’t think I could ever feel. And if I truly make her only a fraction as happy as she’s made me, I can be considered the luckiest man in all of Baldur’s Gate, nay, Faerun. And I’ll promise you I will do anything I can to keep her happy and safe as long as she’ll want me by her side.” The sudden change in tone and sincerity in his words stopped Lira in her rambling. “Wow”, she simply whispered silently and looked at Astarion. Then she suddenly jumped to give him a quick hug. Astarion almost made to step out of reach before her arms went around his waist, but he let it happen. The concept of hugging was still pretty new to him, except with you of course. And since he didn’t quite know how to react correctly in such a situation, he just kind of went to awkwardly pat the adorable half-elf on the back. This was still new, but he was pretty sure that it was nice and warmth filled his chest.

Lira let go off him, seemingly also surprised by her sudden outburst: “Sorry… I’m just so happy for her… and for you too!” She smiled warmly then turned around, since they were finally at the bar. “Soooo – I am certainly invited to the wedding, am I not? Can I be Tav’s Maid of Honor?” Astarion would have probably blushed would that have been possible for him. Did anyone ever make him this flustered in a matter of hours since meeting? Well, you probably, but other than that? He was released from questioning though when the barmaid came over and took their order. As they waited, Astarion decided he definitely liked this one of your friends and decided to be his best polite and interested self and asked Lira to tell him about herself.

You watched the two of them wander off into the crowd. Then you remembered the two rather grim faces in front of you and the one, that was already much too drunk to actually really notice anything.

Eodin had crossed the arms over his chest again, dropping the façade completely: “You have some nerve, Tav.” His tone was bitter. You see Miyena’s lip slightly curve into a smirk. “You disappear for months, leave us with a load of jobs, we can’t finish because we need your goddamn elven ass, since you are the best with sleight of hand and all. Which made us not only miss out on said jobs but also caused us to lose most of our clients, because now we seem to be the most unreliable band of thieves this city has ever seen! And then you reappear with this fucking elven twink and basically let him take you right on the fucking table like a slut!”, Eodin’s voice rises more and more during his rant while Miyena’s malicious smirk grows bigger. At least you can tell who it was who spewed so much venom into his ear. Daegin didn’t seem to react even though Eodin was practically shouting, in fact, you could hear some soft snoring.

You are completely dumbstruck. Had you expected a verbal ass-whooping? Absolutely! Had you expected this? Absolutely not! The feelings of guilt you had for abandoning your friends albeit there hadn’t been anything you could’ve done about this vanished in an instant. His words were pure venom and you could feel rage slowly rear inside you. Being angry about all of this was the one thing but it was the way he said it, especially with the intonation of your and Astarion’s elven heritage and calling you a slut? You were done with the niceties and you started to feel murderous.

You sucked on your teeth and mimicked Eodin’s aggressive stance, looked him straight in the eyes and asked: “Mind telling me, what exactly changed in the past months I wasn’t here? I get being angry and wanting an explanation. What I don’t get is you insulting me and Astarion – who you’ve never met before today, might I add – making a scene here in front of everyone and especially, what specifically makes this about me being an elf?” You saw how Miyena side-eyed him and raised an expectant eyebrow. “And you certainly didn’t think of me as slut, when I jerked you off and you were too drunk to get it up properly! You disgust me!” He winced at the mention of this particularly embarrassing night you had shared, which incidentally had been the last. You were disgusted by the memory. Bile was raising in your throat, making you gag – why did you ever think this guy deserved you at all?

“Well, I thought you weren’t like them – all fleeting attention, mysteries, riddles. I thought I knew you, Tav, I thought you were my friend… and I even thought you were more for some time. I thought you were one of us, so sweet and nice… So… indeed, Tav, what has changed?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Never had your elven heritage made any difference at all, especially since you’d grown up on the city streets and hadn’t had the comfort of a sheltered childhood far off in the woods in some elven enclave. His words hurt. You might’ve never seen him in the way he once wanted you, but he had been a close friend, an understanding friend. This angry and obviously jealous side was not only new but disgusting to you. Your eyes wandered over to Miyena who was still smirking. “Well, for starters”, you said “thinking really ever wasn’t your strong suit. You should leave that to the others. Ah, but seems you already handed that duty over to Miyena here.” You turned to the tiefling and threw her a death glare: “Don’t think I don’t see how you’ve been smirking and side-eyeing Eodin the whole time, you bitch. You always wanted everything for yourself. Go ahead, you can have him, his limp-dick and all loot and coin you get from your jobs, I don’t care.” The tiefling woman looked ready to throw daggers at you. Eodin opened his mouth, now having at least the decency to look the slightest bit guilty, but you lifted your hand before he could speak and continued: “If all it takes for you to turn against me and discriminate me is being away for a few months, then consider everything – our work friendship, our work arrangement – separated. You were always very impressionable, but never would I have thought you were so easy to turn into a hot toxic pile of garbage. Go right on with Miyena, but be careful, she was already eyeing Astarion, because she always wants what others have.” And with that you ended your spiteful little speech.

The man and the tiefling looked at each other for a second, then continued to stare angrily at you. A year back, you ‘d never would have called them out on their bullshit, you had indeed changed. Back then you would have eaten up the shame and would have given in to your strong people-pleasing tendency. But you were done taking the world’s and everyone’s shit and be thankful for mere scraps they threw you, you deserved better than this – something your vampiric soulmate had taught you. “Now, you can fuck off or you can stay and be nice for the night because I don’t want to spoil the evening for Lira and Daegin”, you added when neither of them said anything.

This suddenly seemed to get Miyena and Eodin out of their stupor. Miyena simply hissed at you, when Eodin spat: “Why don’t you fuck off, you and that arrogant elven prick. Who is he really anyway, did you sell yourself off to him as a plaything or mistress or something? You don’t belong…”

A glint of silver and there was a blade at each Miyena’s and Eodin’s throat. Astarion was standing impossibly close behind them both, his arms around each of their shoulders. He’d masterfully had sneaked up behind them. To others, it would have looked simply like a drunken hug from afar – only the two daggers pressing against their necks were distracting from that. “I’d advise you to hold very still or you’ll find out exactly how prickly I can be”, Astarion whispered to them in a voice that was actually rather made for candle light and dark bedrooms, his red eyes were glinting with fury. The tiefling slightly hissed at him but tensed, Eodin just whimpered.

“Now, I really did not appreciate your tone and how you spoke to my partner. But seeing as I was enjoying myself so much tonight, I’m giving you one more chance. You can be nice little puppies now and be polite and graceful for the rest of the evening. And after tonight I never want to see a shred of you again”, he whispered to them hoarsely, his mouth wandering from Eodin’s ear to Miyena’s and back again. The daggers pressed slightly harder against their throats now.

“Or”, Astarion drawled and smiled wickedly “you can fuck off right now, just as my lovely lady here proposed. Choose as you wish but behave or I will splatter you all over the walls.” You swallowed hard, did he have to be this threatening and with that tone in his voice. In a very twisted way, you enjoyed what was happening way too much. Gods, you loved when Astarion became all protective. And something wild and dark in you enjoyed his threatening, predatory demeanor. The softest gasp left your mouth and you squeezed your thighs together – hard. This was not the time to get aroused. Astarion heard though and his eyebrow shot up, his eyes flicking to yours for a split second and his signature smirk found its way back on his lips.

“What will it be now?”, he then whispered to his two captives again “I wouldn’t want to end the night in bloodshed – well, maybe a little.” He grinned baring his fangs and licked over his lips slowly. Eodin turned completely pale and Miyena’s eyes widened.

“Go… let us go”, the man whispered and started to struggle against Astarion’s hold while trying to not get knicked by the knife at his throat.

“Then have it your way”, Astarion sneered and in one swift movement withdrew his daggers, turned them around and pushed them off into the crowd - hard. They stumbled away, bumping into the people around them but quickly made their way away from you.

Astarion rolled his shoulders and sighed dramatically, then looked at you grinning: “Ah, darling, so good to be alone with you again, don’t you think?” His eyes wandered down your body and he licked his lips again. “Nothing like a little drama and knife play to spice up the night, am I right?” His red eyes turned even darker with an impossible hunger shining in them. You gulped, Daegin snored.

[longjohnsilverfish]

Karlach and Astarion decide to have a second? Because honestly the idea of him getting her pregnant is hot

I gotchuuuuu!!! Thankyou, anon!

Again and Again

NSFW 18+

CW: breeding kink

“I want another one.”

Astarion straddled Karlach, stroking her hair back behind her pointed ears and curled horn. His heart raced when speaking, but it was a wish worth speaking.

The pale Vampiric Elf had been living with his wife and son in Baldur’s Gate for a year now. And since they had moved in, Ivaebhin-Astarion had been flourish.

He would go on playdates with his cousin Xan, swim in the nearby pond with his mother while Astarion watched, be his father’s loving assistant as Astarion began to get back into his magistrate career.

His live was happy. Perfect.

Until he saw another baby being held in Karlach’s arms.

Wyll had adopted a baby found in the temple in Baldur’s Gate. He had named her Lily Aurora Ravenguard. The third cutest little thing Astarion had seen. Her pudgy fingers tightened into fists and tearless cries echoed in the air.

Wyll looked like he aged thirty years—and most grateful Karlach put her to a soft nap in her large arms.

But the look of the baby into her arms. The idea of her being a mother again, holding another baby in her arms—his baby.

Her breasts large and sore, begging to be touched and massaged.

Her clit engorged and wanting to be rubbed and milked of her fluids.

Her belly, round and large, ready to pop and give birth to another little half Tiefling, half Elf child.

The combinations of their features. Dozens. Millions.

“I want to make a baby with you,”, the Elf purred, kissing Karlach’s lips softly. “You make the best..”

“Astarion, we should talk before…”

“I know, I know. But…ngh.” Astarion grunted into the Tiefling’s hair, his hips rutting into Karlach’s.

The feeling of her hands running up his ass was all the more erotic.

“Please? Pretty please?”, he growled in a plea, whiny and desperate.

“Oh. Gods—fuck me.” Karlach breathed deeply, kissing up to the Vampire’s lips. “We-we can but them both in the same room, I suppose.”

“Yes. Yes.”

Rip. Rip. Rip. Rip.

Off with the clothes.

“Oh, you devious little thing…,” Astarion snickered. With his left hand, he held the woman’s cunt open, letting her juices trickle out like a spring. With his right, he played with his cock, tapping it against her clit. “You’re already soaked…”

“Just fuck me already,” she grunted, grinding her hips.

“Oh! So demanding. Who am I to…”

The Elf thrusted in, his face between her boobs.

Ah, the height difference. This is was happens when an 8’2 monster and a 5’11 bean get together.

But after years of love-making, they made it work.

Astarion smirked, biting into a breasts before moving his hips, the slapping beginning to pick up. Karlach cried out in pleasure, her hand planting itself in the Elf’s white curls to keep him suckling her blood.

Heatwave after heatwave, gulp after gulp. It was like spicy wine into his mouth, although much more sweeter from her breasts. Was it the milk’s doing? He wasn’t tasting the blood, perhaps the milk gave it flavor?

“Mm. Mm.” Karlach huffed, grinding her hips up. “Faster. I’m starting to daydream about cribs and baby clothes.”

Astarion smiled, and began picking up the pace. Gushing at his cock being taken in even deeper, he purred with pleasure, the hot warmth of her walls suckling him dry, milking his cock for all it was worth.

“Oh yeah? Like that idea?” The feeling of his cock kissing deep with his wife, seeing her keen at each deep kiss within her womb. “Wanna be bed ridden, have me wait on you hand and foot?”

“M-mhm!”

“Want that belly full again? Full of me? My Vampiric seed?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

Astarion laughed, hitting deeply in a certain stroke. “Yeah?”

“Yes!,” cried Karlach, now tears coming down her face.

Astarion stopped his thrusting for a moment, getting Karlach’s legs over his shoulders. And just like that, he began thrusting fast in no time. “Will you be a good mommy?”

“I promise!”

“You promise?.” His ruby eyes stared deep into her fiery irises.

“Yeah! Yeah! Please! Please!”

“Then—!”

Astarion began to slam as quick as he could, the sound of his balls slapping against her ass.

“Here you go!”

And in a moment, the two being came together. Karlach’s walls clamped around Astarion’s manhood, gushing in a clear fluid of love and lust. The Elf’s seed shot load upon load inside the Tiefling, his hot cum melting the woman from the inside out—deep within her womb, nestling inside to keep warm and eventually, become another perfect little baby for them both.

Astarion breathed heavily, looking down at the Karlach, who was just as sweaty as him.

“Girl or boy?,” he asked.

“If a girl…”

“We will name her Karlach.”

“No!”, Karlach protested, her tail hitting Astarion at the back of the head. “Something nice.”

“You are the nicest, most kindest woman I know,” Astarion remarked smartly. “If it’s a girl, her name will be…hm. Nothing other than Karlach would fit.”

“Oh! I know!” Karlach smiled. “Braerindra!”

“Braerindra? Hm, Brae-rin-drah Karlach. Hm, not bad. Braerindra-Karlach it is.”

“And a boy?”

“…hm. Haalaari-Constantine.”

Karlach whistled at the name. “Now that is a good name.”

“I try,” he smiled, kissing her nose. “But no matter what, they will be loved. Boy or girl.”

“Yes. Boy or girl.”

It was nine months later, and surprise surprise surprise, Karlach ended up having twins. Oh, that day will live in infamy. The yelling, the crying, the smiles.

The family of five. Perfect.

[magicbystarlight]

Venomous - Part Eleven

Masterlist, Part One

Summary: A wife. A mother. A witch with someone else's name. That’s the life you didn’t want. So Tom offered you more.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: 18+, a bit of an angsty one, arranged marriage, age gap relationship, ptsd, war. Minors DNI.

A/N: Our poor reader can't catch a break.

The last days at the Manor passed mechanically. Wedding appointments set for Easter Break—dress, cake, invitations, dinner. A book left unread despite the pages turned. Smiles that didn’t reach your eyes. Laughs that were hollow. Unanswered letters. No word from your brother. Nothing in the papers about the Muggle war.

Abraxas was at your side, arm slung too casually around your shoulder as you walked through Platform 9 ¾. Your trunk somewhere behind being dragged along by the Malfoys’ oldest house-elf Honey. Or was it Bunny? An unsubtle reminder to the growing crowd that you were a Malfoy, even if not in name yet.

At least your mother hadn’t come.

His goodbye was drawn out. You smiled and dutifully let him kiss you again and again until he couldn't keep you any longer. You hoped your own face didn't betray your joy as you stepped onto the train. The compartments were full as you dragged your trunk. It took longer to find Larissa and Abigail than usual thanks to the added weight.

Their concern felt wasted on you when you stepped into the compartment. Too much of your friendship had been spent on your petty problems when their families lived in constant danger that you knew nothing about.

You insisted you were fine, that it had only been a bit of stress, and everything was okay now. You brushed off concerns about Abraxas’ behavior, rewriting his jealousy as protection. You were fine, everything was fine.

The conversation veered to them and you listened intently. A funny story about Larissa’s mother getting on the wrong train in the underground. Talk of Abigail’s father’s wonderful cooking. Love letters they found under her little sister’s pillow. It made your heart ache.

“We should set up a dinner or something for the Easter holiday,” you said as the laughter was starting to subside. “So I can meet your families.”

Your friends shared a look that didn’t look pleased with the idea. “Won’t you be too busy? With all the planning? We don’t want to add to your stress.”

“Too busy for you? Never.”

“It’s just,” Larissa said slowly, trying to find the words to say, “well, we know how your family feels about half-bloods. You might not mind, but they’re not gonna be happy with it.”

“They know we’re friends, it’s not that big of a deal anymore. Maybe they’ll be upset if they find out one of Abby’s parents is Muggle, but we can go somewhere Muggle and they’ll never even know. Make a day of it, a real day, show me more of the Muggle world. I’ve never even seen London past the windows in the Leaky Cauldron.”

Larissa went to say something else, another argument against it from the frown in her face, but Abigail cut her off, face lacking its normal color. “We’ll see. I’ll need to owl my parents and ask if they can make the time for it. Easter’s pretty busy for them.”

Your face fell before you could catch it and school it into something false.

“We can do Cambridge instead!” Larissa offered quickly, too eager compared to her hesitation a moment before. “I’m sure Mum would love to have you both over. And it gets so pretty in the spring there—” 

She continued, naming reason after reason Cambridge was the place to be for Easter. You worked your smile back, though it was as hollow as it’d had been at the Manor. A tentative date set for the Tuesday after the holiday—you had no appointments set and Abigail would be too busy helping out around home before then. Color still hadn’t returned to her face.

When enough time had passed, you excused yourself to use the restroom. They didn’t offer to join you.

Scalding water splashed from the tap, causing your hands to retract with a hiss. You waited for the temperature to correct itself and tried not to scratch at the pain.

Abigail didn’t want you meeting her family. Larissa could spend a week with them and you couldn’t even have dinner. You always knew they were a little closer. How could they not be when you barely put any effort into the friendship? They may have been your best friends, but today you realized you weren’t theirs.

That was okay, you told yourself. You would do better.

You looked up into the mirror as you scrubbed your hands. A crack cutting diagonally down it you hadn’t noticed before. How poorly were these restrooms maintained?

The door swung open.

“—almost punched Ralph McLaggen in the middle of Diagon Alley! Over her? Can you—“

The Slytherin girl from Potions cut off abruptly as her gaze met yours in the mirror. The one who loved to tell people about your torrid affair with Slughorn. You’d have to remember her name eventually. 

Her grin was sickly sweet. “You looked great at the Minister’s ball.”

“Thanks, but,” you said, matching the acidic tone. “I don’t remember seeing you there?” Then you laughed, shaking your hands dry and turning to see her now scowling face. “Oh right, you must have seen me in the paper! I’d almost forgotten.” 

You walked to the door, eyebrow raised expanctly at her friend who still stood in its way. She squeaked out an apology before moving aside. “Well lovely to see you, Judith. Hope your holiday went well.” Maybe you didn’t have to learn her name.

—

Dumbledore wasn’t at the welcoming feast. It wasn’t unusual. Since First Year he’d been in and out of class aiding in the fight against Grindelwald. But you felt the absence more now. You’d wanted to talk to him about Warrick. 

There were eyes on you. More than usual it seemed. You kept your back to the Slytherin’s table. 

Abigail had recovered, at least. 

Her smiles were warm again as conversation swirled at the table around the next Quidditch match. Ravenclaw had only had one match the previous semester and it left them at an advantage, same as Slytherin and it was expected the match would be tense. You listened attentively as some of the team’s players explained how many points they’d need to rack up to gain the lead. It surprised you how attentively they listened when Larissa started dissecting Slyhterin’s weaknesses and strengths. Her insight was, well, insightful. 

“We’ve got the pitch on Thursday, you’ll be there?” Erin Lockhart, this year’s captain, asked her as you all made your way back to the tower. 

Larissa’s face was bright. “Haven’t missed one yet, have I?”

It was past midnight when the three of you finally clambered up the stairs to your dormitory. Normal. A truly normal night. Not a mention of engagements or wars or stalkers. Filled instead with Quidditch and school worries and silly little jokes. So many new things noticed about people you’d known for years. Funny how that can happen when you’re not existing solely in your own head.

Larissa was giggling about how good Henry Higginbottom’s hair looked when she stopped abruptly after opening the door. You thought maybe the ladies at Twilfitt and Tattings had outdone themselves and delivered early, but a melodic chirping drowned it out.

On your bed, in a rather large and intricate gilded cage, was Ravenclaw’s emblem. A Golden Eagle.

Their eyes were such a familiar shade of brown. 

“When did you get an eagle?”

“I didn’t.” You felt cold. “I’ll take my chances with whatever gilded cage awaits me rather than whatever crate you’re offering.” Could Tom never stop with his fucking metaphors?

Abigail was the one to investigate. She plucked an envelope from the bed, turning it over. Your name was on the front in familiar handwriting and an even more familiar teal seal.

Of course Azar was still doing Tom’s bidding.

Anger seized as you took the letter she handed over. Blood splatters marred the parchment.  

Found her in Astrid’s owlery. 

A likely story.

Apparently she’d been there a while and now she seems a bit confused about what she is. Thought getting her out of there was for the best,

You scoffed. Of course he would decide what he thinks best.

but the dungeons aren’t a good place for her. She needs to spread her wings. 

One thing he wasn’t wrong about. 

I know Selene said no to getting you an owl, but she never said no to an eagle.

He remembered that? It’d been years since you’d asked. 

Dippet was happy enough to approve her as a pet for you. Unsurprisingly, you’re one of his favorites.

It was a surprise to you.

She prefers hunting for herself, so she won’t be a bother. She’ll even take the post for you. You’ll have to give her a name though. Our aunt only ever called her örnen.

That sounded like Aunt Astrid.

Sinc Love,

Uggy Az

P.S. There’s no excuse. I’m sorry.

P.P.S. She was perfectly tame until I put her in the cage. You’ll get along well, I think. 

The anger had dissipated by the end. Not gone entirely, but less. You still weren’t convinced it wasn’t some new trap laid, but for now you’d let it be what it seemed. A sincere apology. Those were so rare.

“Uggy Az?” Larissa questioned, reading the letter over your shoulder.

“It’s what I called Azar when I was really little. It was supposed to be Uncle Az.” You reached for the latch, pulling the door open. “Mum hated it cause it sounded like I was calling him an ugly ass.” Cautiously the bird stepped out, stretching her wings and legs. She was beautiful.

You knelt at the end of the bed and she met you there. This close you could see the gold speckled throughout her eyes. When you reached your hand forward, she bent her head and let out a chirp at the contact.

“What should we name her?” you asked, stroking her.

“Princess?” Larissa offered before her face immediately went sour and shook her head. “She needs something more classical. Aethon?” 

That made you shudder. Would that make you Prometheus? 

Abigail’s fingers joined yours to stroke the brown feathers. “How about Drein?”

The eagle let out another chirp.

“You like that?” you asked. “Drein?”

She chirped again and seemed to nuzzle against your hand. 

“Well,” Larissa laughed, joining you and Abigail in your affections to the bird, “Drein it is.”

—

Sweat covered you as you shot up from bed. A nightmare. You couldn’t remember much beyond explosions, screams, and a hand around your throat.

The hands of the clock pointed to a quarter past five. Too early to start the day and too late to try to sleep. Not that you’d be able to sleep anyways.

Drein stirred from her perch atop your wardrobe when you moved. It was odd how comforting it was when her eyes followed you to your desk. Being watched by a predator was normally so unsettling, but for once you didn’t feel like prey.

You took a piece of parchment and your quill and began to write. It wasn’t right. You scratched it out and started again. Still wrong. Dashed through the new sentences and tried again. No. 

Curiosity got the best of Drein, her wings fluttering softly as she landed on the edge of the desk. Her head cocked as you ripped off the bottom, bare part of the parchment.

Why? You wrote. Your quill hovered for a moment more. I miss you. A few tears landed on the parchment before you wiped away the rest. Drein crept forward, pushing her head against your hand.

“Can you do me a favor?” you ask her. She blinks. “Take this to my brother.”

—

Drein had returned by that night. There was no reply. A week passed. Days that weren’t quite bad, but exhausting. 

Transfiguration was the easiest. An essay to write from the substitute instead of hands-on practice. Astronomy. History of Magic. Ancient Ruins. Herbology. Arithmancy. Potions. Care of Magical Creatures. None of them required a wand often. 

But Charms and DADA?

Horrible.

Abigail thought you were sick. First you fainted and now you were struggling in class? You’d gone and gotten checked just to ease her concern. You weren’t sure how no one noticed the crack in your wand, but you powered through. It did seem to work a little better as the days passed. Less resistant. A few more days, maybe a week or two, and it would be fine. Like nothing happened.

Whispers followed as they always did. Some with pity, but more with glee. You’d walked into a room more than once to be greeted with hurriedly hushed voices. Thankfully your housemates were more akin to pity.

Saturday afternoon you sat alone in the common room, where you’d been since after breakfast. It was a dreary day outside, but you couldn’t pull your attention away from the window. There wasn’t anything else to do. Abigail had left for some Divination project she had to work on with a Gryffindor and Larissa was serving a detention she’d gotten the last day of last semester. Abraxas had planned to visit, but something had come up and he postponed for Sunday. Homework was done and you didn’t feel like tracking anyone down to occupy time. 

Why hadn’t Warrick written you back?

A very nasally, high pitched noise came from beside you, breaking your concentration. Myrtle Warren stood there, nose high in the air. She held out a folded piece of parchment. “Avery asked me to give this to you?”

Your eyebrow shot up. Myrtle was muggleborn. Azar didn’t like interacting with that sort, let alone entrusting them with anything.

She cleared her throat again impatiently and wriggled the note.

With a muttered thanks, you took it. She still stood there. It simply read: Library?

“He told me to wait for a yes or no. Wants me to walk with you there for some reason if you say yes. Very odd, I think, but he’s paid me ten galleons just to bring this, and it’ll be another twenty once I get back to him with an answer.”

Ten galleons just to get you a note. Thirty in all to get an answer. And an escort. 

“Was there anyone with him?”

She shook her head. “No, he was all alone. Just like you. And me.” She shrugged. “Probably why he asked me.”

Azar must be hoping to apologize in person. There hadn’t been any chance to catch you alone throughout the week. You’d ensured that. While Myrtle wasn’t your first option of a companion, she was better than nothing. And talking it out with Azar was better than staring out a window. You needed to thank him for Drein, too.

Myrtle was surprisingly patient. You’d had to put your things away up in your dorm and she waited without a single complaint. It was unlike her. She hadn’t gained the nickname Moaning Myrtle for nothing. 

It was probably the promise of galleons that kept her so quiet  as you walked down the staircases.

“Do you mind if we stop by the restroom?” she asked as you landed on the second floor.

Had she not been so patient before, you’d have said no. But she had been. So you relented, eyeing the staircase wistfully and hoping she’d be quick. You wanted to see Azar. Know if it had been real.

Her favors weren’t over. “Could you check if there’s anyone in here? I don’t like an audience.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes and did as requested. It was empty, thankfully. “All clear,” you called from the end of the stalls. 

“Well that is very,” Myrtle’s voice changed, the nasally high whine turning deep, honeyed, and unmistakable, “convenient.” 

You twisted, wand in hand, to witness as Myrtle’s face bubbled. Her robes stretched to accommodate the added height and width, its blue yellowing to green, Ravenclaw’s emblem contorted into Slytherin’s. You’d meant to Stupify him, but nothing came. A red jet of light shot from his. With horror, your grasp on your wand loosened involuntarily and it shot from your hand. He caught it effortlessly.

“I’m not here to fight,” Tom said evenly. He eyed your wand, surveying the damage. “Not that it seems you’d be able to put up much of one.” 

“Fuck you,” you hissed, despite the pounding in your ears. 

He smiled. “I have missed your quick wit.” When you said nothing, he sighed. “I wanted to apologize.”

You repeated, “Fuck you.” 

“That’s fair.” Your wand clattered on the floor as he threw it back. “I deserve worse.”

You don’t move. You consider it for half a second, hand tensing to reach for your wand, but you don’t. It’s useless.

“I didn’t understand how horrific what I did was. But I do now. And I’m sorry.”

Lies. Lies lies lies lies lies.

“I don’t want your apologies. They don’t mean anything. You regret nothing. You understand nothing!” Your voice rose, angry panic outpacing your ability to quell it. 

“Forgiveness will take time, I know. I’ll be patient.”

Tears seared your cheeks. “Forgiveness?” you questioned. “Forgiveness for what, Tom? For—for trying to kill me? For stalking me? For ruining my life?” Yanking the Malfoy heirloom from your finger, you held it up. “I only have this,” you threw it, aiming for his frozen face that didn’t even flinch and missing by a yard, “because of you. If you’d have left me alone, none of it would have happened. You took everything. And for what? What has it gotten you in the end?” Your arms were shaking as you gestured to the lavatory he’d trapped you in. “Downing polyjuice to corner me here and listen to me tell you that I hate you.”

Quaking shoulders. Terrified and angry and devastated. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I don’t know.”

It came out so soft, yet the words thundered in your head. He’d been so confident months ago. Spewing nonsense about power and freedom and breaking traditions. Now he stood there and said he doesn’t know why he continues to torment you?

“You don’t know?”

Cracking sounds reverberated against the walls.

“You don’t fucking know?”

Glass shards fell to the floor as the mirrors over the sinks shattered. 

You crumbled.

Next Part

Your thoughts & reblogs are always appreciated 💕

HP Tag List: @bamboozledflamplant @squishytomatoes @benonlinear @byelannie @itsccc

Venomous Tag List: @pearlsofme @fck-this @ambria @sheeple @strangunddurm @weirdowithnobeardo @emberenchanted