#target audience acquired

[catsurfavs]

HEAVY TF2 TUMMY ‼️‼️‼️

Did I pass?

[castrovulcant]

Love it when a post about a character gets seen by someone with that character's name (or variation) in the username. Like, yes, target audience acquired.

[bastardstevie]

Me liking my own posts like damn this bitch gets me fr

[daily-fiamet]

Le's goooooo

[toastedjeans]

It is officially Real Cryptid Hours™

Aka just a small collection of my cryptid au characters from various fandoms :)

First, the one that started it all, Cryptid Omens (originally made 2-3 years ago)

Sketches: old, colors: new

I love them. Aziraphale's design improved quite a bit.

.

Then, my absolutely beloveds, SCC cryptids (+ Spamton cause he's such a creature)

Two above: older, two below: most recent

Only found sketches for Spam. Smh my head can't believe i haven't drawn him properly even once before now

.

And lastly, my most recent addition, Cryptid Narrator

Left: first concept, right: most recent

Why does he look less and less like a creature every time i draw him? Idk, maybe Stanley's domesticating him

.

And now i need to draw them all hanging out

[atvbs]

😏

[timegears-moved]

im so sorry to all of the people rbing my post with "usum was great too!!" i feel like im stabbing you in the back

[exculis]

i do like to scroll through deviantart now and then and see the stuff people have based off of moodboards from my generator

[leog4u]

Adult Gaming Survey Results!

Hey, hey! Here's the results of that survey on adult games I set up a while back. I was blown away by the amount of responses, totaling at 1,159! After reading every write-in, I've made a little write up with some analyses that adult game devs could chew on. I think it's also interesting from an audience stand point, so give it a read! The link above goes to the survey results, so you can see the percentages and write-ins for yourself. Oh also here's a link to the top 12 favorite adult games of the responses, so you don't have to count the 591 answers yourself.

As a reminder, this is a survey for adult games. Search any game in the response list at your own risk. Minors go do something else.

And with that out of the way...!

How often do you play adult games?

Something I noticed was quite a few replies mention very large gaps between adult game sessions. I'd like to drill down on this, because paired with respondents mentioning not know how to acquire adult games, this lack of awareness might lead to less opportunities for playing adult games.

The flip side to many responses in “Other” mention binge bursts, followed by long periods of no adult game activity, it might just be a case of adult life lacking free time. 

How long do you expect an adult game to be?

A relief to game devs, there’s no major expectation for an adult game to be pulling JRPG playtime numbers. A majority would rather play a game that does what it sets out to do at its own pace, rather than hitting a target goal of X hours and be subject to poor flow and padding. 

How long is an adult gaming session?

A majority spend over an hour, with time set aside to do said adult gaming. While “till i finish” could be less than an hour, it’s still a designated time set aside to play an adult game.

What’s interesting is the responses in the “Other” category that go into detail, if the goal is to just get off, it’ll be quick. But if a game has plot and gameplay, like some kind of video game, then it’s likely they’ll take more time as they’re now being entertained in the way a video game does.

When it comes to art, what level of quality do you expect?

Again, something that should come as a relief to adult game devs. There’s not a big expectation of painted, master quality art that would be hung in a museum. People want something that gets the idea across and something fresh. 

The style should match the actual content of the game. Too many times I've played a game with the most facebook friendly mobile game style, and it just feels like it's distracting from what the game is trying to actually do.

It also would help if when a potential customer scrolls down the itch.io adult game page, their eyes don't glaze over at art that looks like every other game on the market.

Do you buy your adult games?

A problem that is highlighted here is the lack of ability or knowledge on how to buy adult games. Storefronts hide the settings needed to see adult game options, which actively lead to a lack of knowledge on how to purchase. 

A majority of the “Other” category mentions it being a combination of spending money and playing free games.

Another point to note is that some mentioned that they will pirate with the intention of spending money later. A free demo, like some mention seeking out first, can help devs avoid piracy, since some people use pirated games as a demo when none is available to see if the game’s worth it.

Another note, which unfortunately won’t help the devs affected, but when non-english games aren’t available in english or on english storefronts, some respondents feel that the only way to play is by pirating. It’s difficult to get the numbers, but I’d be interested in seeing how well japanese adult games on steam that have been localized for english speaking audiences are doing, since that previously wasn’t an option for japanese adult devs until very recently.

How important is writing in adult games for you?

This was actually a surprising result to me. Adult games primarily advertise their art. How much of it there is, how well drawn it is, if it’s animated or not. So seeing 77% of respondents cite good writing as one of the most important parts to an adult gaming experience really changes what the priorities should be for an adult game dev. 

While some would skip writing, either to get to “the good stuff” or just to skip over bad prose, some have an actively worse experience with being shown bad writing.

How important is animation in the porn scenes?

A recurring sentiment in the “Other” category is that if the animation is bad, don’t bother. 

Combined with the majority of 67.1% saying that animation is optional, I think adult game devs are safe to not prioritize it unless their game is the kind that needs it to function, like a side-scroller. It drains a lot of money and resources, especially for a first time project.

Even the live2D tweening has little payoff with these numbers considered.

How important is voice acting in the porn scenes?

Similar to animation, voice acting is a nice feature to have, if it’s done well. Otherwise it can feel tacked on, or worse, detrimental to enjoying the game.

With 50% not caring or actively muting, I think it’s safe to say that it’s a “nice to have” and resources should be focused on other things like writing and gameplay.

How important is sex sound effects in the porn scenes? (moaning, wet slapping, squelching, etc)

What’s really fascinating is that the sound effects and audio design are more appreciated than the voice acting. If I had to pinpoint a difference, it’s that bad delivery can ruin a scene, but a sound effect is far less intrusive.

What genres of porn games do you like the most?

The genres chosen were a combination of which were the most populated as well as recent trends. A large amount of write-ins were expressing that simulation games were a favorite. 

Now comes the question, is the number one favorite genre RPGs because that’s the best genre for an adult game, because it’s a genre people enjoy playing for gaming’s sake, or because a massive amount of adult games are made in RPG Maker? I think it’s a little bit of columns A, B, and C.

When it comes to adult games, what matters more?

People are here for porn, but that doesn't mean they're here for just porn. They want a good delivery vehicle for the porn. Both parts of this sentiment mean that there's one thing you should avoid more than anything and it's annoying padding and grinds. They bought your game, there's no need hide a nipple behind five hours of gameplay. Likewise, it's not very good game design to give the player everything at once, as I've mentioned before.

There are several draws to adult games. It's intimacy in a safe, virtual environment. It's making bonds with characters the player falls in love with that end with a climax, or two. It's exploring kinks. And it's blowing off some steam by getting your rocks off. These should be considered when designing a porn game.

Does a kink you enjoy influence if you buy an adult game?

In the future, I would rephrase this question as asking how much your kink factors into buying a game, rather than what was presented. As it stands, “I buy things if they’re good” isn’t that interesting or valuable of an insight.

Respect to the small slice that don't buy shit unless it has their kink in it.

Does a kink you dislike influence if you buy an adult game?

Making more extreme or polarizing kinks optional enables the developer to explore said kinks while allowing the player to avoid uncomfortable situations. As long as it’s clear what’s optional and what isn’t on the product description, this seems to be the preferred method. 

What’s your stance on AI art?

A landslide stance. This can be attributed to politics: there is a hardcore stance against any and all AI. That aside however, when it comes to selling a product to a consumer, why would they want a product they know was made with no care or effort? Where else were corners cut? AI in porn games are usually used to generate the art and writing, the most important parts (according to the survey) to the porn game. It's where you want the most care and attention, not the opposite.

What aspect of an adult game do you care about the most?

Players care about the porn in their porn games. This isn’t a surprise. Audio being ranked so low also isn’t a surprise considering the previous results. But, what is interesting is how gameplay is ranked highest in the “important” category, past art and writing. I interpret it as “come for the art and writing, stay for the gameplay.” 

Talking Points From the Free Form Responses

Replayability and customization are gameplay features people value, which can be reflected in the amount of responses citing games such as Corruption of Champions and Degrees of Lewdity as their favorites.

Porn games are really unique because you need to list out its content. We're used to spoilers being a bad thing in marketing materials, but for porn its mandatory. A customer needs to know: what's the degree of sexual content, is it cheese cake, is it gay, is there dub-con, is there inflation, the list goes on. Nobody will be mad to know that something they don't like is in something. Well, some people will be, but it's a lot worse when it's a surprise. Also consider, it stops comments asking if there's content like pregnancy in your game or not.

I can not understate how important customization is to a number of people, wanting the body and pronouns they have to be reflected in the player character. This gives text based games a bit of an edge, since it's significantly less resource intensive to accommodate for all these different identities in text vs having to make art assets for every configuration and body type.

There’s a general lack of knowledge on where to actually get adult games. This is due to social media sites making it difficult for adult content to be shared, as well as limited market places for adult content. Epic Game Store has a ban on it, despite allowing for full on con-artist projects like NFT and Crypto games, while Steam requires some settings to be changed that aren't advertised. However, Steam's new feature to hide games definitely helps gamers feel more comfortable acquiring adult games since their friends won't have to know when they're jerking off.

Woman focused content that doesn’t involve non-con is lacking. Meanwhile, a lot of adult games that feature a woman protagonist that does consent either have her be bimbofied or a literal succubus, rather than an actual character that wants sex like their male counterparts. These male counterparts could be extracted from their porn game and placed in any other fantasy story and get along fine, so why not women?

Don’t forget to add a gallery to your game.

[aynavaano]

The Cuddle pile

The Bad Batch x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2.5k

Summary:

You and your boys are on shore leave and you spend it like you always do, at your home, a tiny flat on Coruscant. You all lounge on the sofa watching a holomovie with varying states of interest. The last missions have been especially rough and when you finally get to relax you start feeling a bit unwell. Your boys notice and take good care of you.

Notes:

This is a quick completely self-indulgent comfort fic I mainly wrote for myself but sharing is caring so I hope some of you enjoy it too. Reader is in an established relationship with all four of the original Batch members (sorry Echo stans) This is mostly comforting fluff that I wrote on an evening when I was feeling down but there is a hint of smut delivered by Crosshair (oral f receiving) and a bit of grabby hands from the rest. This is maybe not my best work but the target audience was met (me, I was the target audience) also no beta on this one, we die like our hope for Techs return. NO CLONECEST

The holomovie flickers on the screen, casting shifting shadows across the dimly lit living room of your tiny apartment when a sense of fatigue begins to settle over you. The last few missions have taken their toll, leaving you drained, both physically and mentally. You shift uncomfortably on the sofa, trying to ignore the growing unease in your stomach.

Hunter is the first to notice your discomfort. He glances over at you, concern etched in his features.

"You alright cyar’ika ?" he asks, his voice tinged with worry.

You muster a weak smile and shrug, not wanting to alarm the others.

"Just feeling a bit off, that's all," you reply, hoping it is nothing serious.

Tech, turns his attention away from his datapad, looking up at you and Hunter, who pulled you onto his chest, where you nestled your head against him.

"What's happening?" he inquires, having heard only half of the conversation, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Hunter's gaze remains fixed on you as he explains.

"She’s not feeling well."

Tech's eyes widened in understanding before he turns to you.

"Would you like some tea? Maybe a hot water bottle?" he offers, already getting up to fetch the supplies.

Grateful for the offer, you nod eagerly.

"That sounds perfect, thanks, Tech," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wrecker, always happy to carry you around, pipes up from his spot on the sofa.

"You wanna go lie down mesh’la? Want me to put you to bed? Or a hot bath?" he suggests, his concern evident in his voice.

You nod again, feeling touched by their care and concern.

"Yeah, bed sounds great," you murmur and wiggle yourself out of Hunters embrace.

With a gentleness that only you experience with him, Wrecker scoops you up in his arms, effortlessly carrying you to your bedroom. The familiar comfort of the bed envelopes you as Wrecker lays you down gently, tucking the blankets around you with love and care.

It is a huge soft bed fitting all five of you, that you acquired after your relationship with the squad had evolved into something more serious and you all began to spend your shore leave together in your home.

Nestling around in the bed, you feel the weariness creeping in, your muscles aching with every movement. Summoning the last of your energy, you turn to him and murmur.

"Wrecker, could you grab the weighted blanket for me? I think it should be in the reading nook."

Wrecker smiles softly.

"Sure thing," he replies before bounding out into the living room in search of the coveted blanket.

Moments later, Tech enters the room, a steaming cup of your favorite tea in one hand and a hot water bottle in the other. He sets them down on the bedside table before turning to you, concern etched in his features.

"Need anything else?" he asks, his voice soft.

You hesitated for a moment before mustering up the courage to ask.

"Would you mind staying with me?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, filled with vulnerability.

Tech's response is immediate. With a small smile, he nods.

"Of course, I'm happy to, if that makes you feel better," he says, his eyes warm with affection.

Quickly, Tech strips off his shirt, knowing you like to feel the warmth of his skin against yours and settles into the bed behind you, letting you rest against his chest.

Just then, Crosshair pops into the room, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"Heard you wanted a weighted blanket," he quips, his eyes dancing with amusement as he walks over towards you discarding the toothpick from his lips.

Before you can respond, Crosshair sheds his shirt just like Tech did and joins you on the bed, settling beside you with a playful smirk. With exaggerated movements, he drapes himself over you, mimicking the sensation of a weighted blanket.

You can’t help but laugh at his antics, feeling the tension melting away with each chuckle.

"Yeah, much better," you reply, a genuine smile gracing your lips as you snuggle deeper into the warmth of your makeshift blanket called Crosshair, stealing a kiss while you’re at it.

When Wrecker returns with the weighted blanket in hand, carrying it as it weighs nothing while you always struggle to pick it up, his eyes widen in excitement at the sight of the cozy cuddle pile forming on the bed.

"Didn’t know that was the plan! I wanna join too!" he declares with childlike enthusiasm, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

You chuckle warmly, patting the space beside you to indicate where he should settle. "Come on, big guy, plenty of room for you," you encourage, your voice filled with affection.

With a gleeful whoop, Wrecker wastes no time shedding his shirt and sweatpants, leaving him clad only in his boxers. Before jumping into the bed he calls out to Hunter, who is still in the living room, his voice echoing through the small flat.

"Hey Hunt, get over here unless you wanna be left out!"

You hear the holomovie going silent and moments later Hunter enters the room, drawn by Wrecker's summons, where he is greeted by the heartwarming sight of you all intertwined in a mass of limbs and cuddles. You are nestled in the middle, with Tech on one side and Crosshair on the other, their arms wrapped around you protectively.

A soft smile tugs at Hunter's lips as he quickly strips down to his boxers and approaches the bed, his heart swelling with affection for your connection.

Climbing onto the bed, he moves with a gentle grace, his movements speaking volumes of the love he holds for you. When he reaches your side, he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, his touch conveying a depth of emotion beyond words.

Settling between your thighs, Hunter envelops you in his embrace, his hand reaching up to you, finding its way under your shirt and softly caressing your belly.

"I'm sorry I ruined the evening," you murmur, feeling a pang of guilt for disrupting the movie night.

Tech shakes his head.

"I didn't want to watch that movie anyway," he quips, offering you a reassuring smile.

Hunter's response is filled with warmth as he squeezes your hand gently.

"Spending the evening cuddled up with you in bed isn't exactly my definition of ruined," he says, his voice soft and sincere.

You can’t help but giggle at their reassurances, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

"You always take such good care of me, I already feel a bit better," you admit, grateful for their understanding and support.

“Just like you always take care of us mesh’la” Wrecker adds, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’d know a way to make you feel even better”

Crosshair's smirk catches your attention, and you raise an eyebrow in curiosity at his suggestive comment, knowing all too well what he is up to, it’s Crosshair after all, but you decide to play along.

"Oh really?," you chuckle, catching his mischievous smirk.

"And what way might that be to make me feel even better?"

His smirk widens into a grin as he leans in closer.

"Well, let's just say I have a few ideas in mind," he teases, his tone suggestive yet playful before kissing you softly.

"Alright, Cross, surprise me," you say kissing him back, this time allowing his tongue to explore your mouth.

“Move over Hunter and let me put that position to good use, seems like you won’t”

Crosshair's playful command draws a collective chuckle from the group as Hunter obediently shifts from between your thighs, making room for Crosshair to take his place. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he settles in, his eyes not leaving yours.

He begins kissing your thighs softly and when he looks up at you, seeking confirmation, you meet his gaze with a mixture of anticipation and excitement. With a subtle nod, you silently give him permission to proceed, your heart racing.

With practiced ease, Crosshair slides your panties off, his touch feather-light yet electrifying against your skin.

“Would you mind helping her Hunter?” he hisses towards his brother.

Hunter, who’s been busy kissing and nibbling on your neck, moves to assist you, gently helping you out of your shirt with a tender caress, lovingly fondling your bare breasts as soon as they are free, his touch a soothing balm against the lingering ache of fatigue.

Crosshair's touch is different today, not intense and demanding, but gentle and tender as he begins to kiss his way down your belly. Positioned between your parted legs, his eyes burn with an intensity that betrays his soft touch, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs with feather-light kisses.

When he finally reaches your pussy and begins to kiss along your slick folds, his tongue licking long strokes from your entrance up to your clit, a low moan escapes your lips, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure racing down your spine.

Each languid stroke, each delicate flick of his tongue, is met with a chorus of sighs and gasps as he teases you, his movements slow and deliberate, worshiping you in a way so different to how he normally does with you.

When he feels you are wet and relaxed enough, he parts your swollen lips with a gentle push of his fingers, his touch igniting a wildfire of sensation that consumes your senses.

He slowly slides two fingers inside you and begins thrusting in and out, drawing lewd sounds from your lips.

“Thats it cyar’ika, let go, let me take care of you”

The way he stretches your walls and the vibration of his voice against your core makes you arch off the mattress, pushing yourself further onto his fingers. He intuitively responds, deepening his thrusts and curling his fingers up, seeking out your most sensitive spot.

Meanwhile, Hunter's lips find yours in a sloppy kiss, his touch tender yet hungry, as he explores the depths of your mouth with his tongue, muffling the moans and gasps Crosshair draws from you. His hands roam your body with a fervent hunger, tracing lazy circles across your skin, worshipping your body with every caress.

Beside you, Wrecker and Tech lavish attention on your breasts, their touch gentle yet firm as they take care of you.

Wrecker's fingers tease and torment your nipples, his touch sending jolts of electricity racing through your body, while Tech's skilled hands explore the contours of your breasts with a tender precision that leaves you trembling with need.

With the attention of all four of them and Crosshairs touch growing more urgent, his movements more insistent, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, your body writhing with a desperate need for release.

“I’m …m…close,” you whimper between Hunters kisses.

You hear a few grunts and gasps around you as they watch you squirming under Crosshairs touch, eyes closed, back arched and your face blissfully flushed in the perfect shade of pink.

“Be a good girl and come for me”

Then he closes his lips around your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud with just the right amount of pressure and you feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body writhing with a desperate need for release. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle suckle of his lips, brings you closer, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you surrendered yourself completely.

With a final thrust of his fingers up towards that extra sweet spot, he pushes you over the edge, the tension snaps, your mind goes blissfully blank and you reach out grabbing a fistful of his hair, desperate for something to hold on to, while you ride out your high on his fingers.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer as you surrender yourself to the blissful oblivion of the orgasm he’s given you. He carefully draws his fingers from your core planting a few soft kisses on your thighs to let you enjoy the last waves of your climax without overstimulating you.

When you slowly come down from your high, still panting against Hunters chest, Crosshair rises from his position between your legs, his face glistening with the remnants of your juices. He tenderly wipes away the traces of your arousal with the back of his hand before leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips. His touch is gentle, his lips conveying a depth of emotion that he can hardly express with words.

“You feel better, riduur?” he whispers in your ear so quiet the others can’t hear it, he thinks, but Hunter hears everything, not that he needed to hear it, he knows how his little brother feels, how madly in love he is with you.

“Much better” you hum, kissing him.

You catch sight of his arousal straining against his sweatpants, and you reach out to palm him through the fabric. But he stops you with a gentle hand, a soft smile gracing his lips as he shakes his head.

"This was just for you," he murmurs, his voice a tender whisper against your skin.

"I wanted to make you feel better, and that's enough for me tonight."

His words wash over you like a soothing balm, filling you with a warmth that transcends the physical. As Crosshair leans in to press a tender kiss against your lips, his gaze softens with affection and love.

"But I'll gladly take you up on that offer when you’re better and you've rested," he whispers, his voice a gentle murmur against your skin.

You nod in understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of his care and devotion.

Tech shifts over to make room for Crosshair beside you, and as the five of you settle into the comforting embrace of each other, a sense of peace washes over you like a gentle tide. In the quiet stillness of your home, surrounded by the warmth and love of your boys, you feel yourself drifting off to sleep, lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of their breathing and Crosshairs soothing heartbeat against your cheek.

Only Tech remains awake for a while longer, his fingers tapping away on his datapad with a quiet diligence. But soon, even he succumbs to the pull of slumber, slipping off his goggles and nestling into the warmth and comfort of the cuddle pile.

cyar’ika - darling/beloved

mesh’la - beautiful

riduur - wife

[hssprimefan]

I stopped playing choices regularly years ago because I could tell I just wasn’t the target audience, but it’s still really saddening to see them be acquired by a generative AI company. I can’t quite say Pixelberry was uncynical, because like most free mobile games, it relied on micro transactions and addicting “whales” to buy their in game purchases.

But they clearly cared about their characters and gameplay. And they knew the power of art! They knew they were making kids feel less alone and like they could be themselves. And they collaborated with cybersmile , the national eating disorder association, and the born this way foundation because they knew they could help their audience! Pixelberry used to know the importance of art as a way for people to connect with each other better than anyone.

[tiredfox64]

May i make a request? So pretty much fem reader is a a kill for hire, (with morals) no innocents etc) and liu kang sand either bi han kuai and smoke, or kung lao and raiden, to recruit her, they watch,as she asks all bubbly and sweet to lure in her tagret only to kill them easily, posion or something?. They ofc fall in love XD

She Would Hurt A Fly

Prior notes: You not one of my opps trying to convict me of something, right? FBI already trying to get me after my constant research on Datura. Don’t put me in jail for making a murder scene 👁️👁️.

Pairing: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: Violence but you will learn something about pigs.

“You want us to fetch…her?” Bi-Han asked with uncertainty.

All the brothers looked down at a picture of you that was given to them by Liu Kang. No offense but you seem like some ordinary person. But according to Liu Kang you are a tricky woman who is a fierce killer. That can’t be right.

“She looks so sweet though.” Tomas said.

“Do not judge, lest ye be judged.” Liu Kang replied.

“You said she was an assassin that can be hired? If you have the Lin Kuei at your side, why would you need someone else like her that you have to pay for?” Kuai Liang had a point.

“Though true that I have your clan by my side, she can do something none of you were trained to do. I don’t question the Lin Kuei’s abilities but I need someone with her unique expertise.”

Liu Kang’s words only fueled their curiosity even more. Bi-Han was somewhat upset with the god for thinking that he needs someone else other than his clan. But if his words are true he wants to see it for himself. So they’ll accept this quest to get you. They won’t act immediately however. They need to see if you are truly needed. What can you do that is so different?

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Target acquired. Your target: a lowlife scum who is somehow let free after committing his heinous crime. People talk, and they all think he somehow paid the judge for his freedom. Some even think he had the justice system by the balls way earlier than when he committed the crime. And you were hired to kill him in any way you see fit. You would have done this job for free but your clients insisted that you deserve the pay. Work your magic girl! You have an audience with you now that you don’t even know about.

Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas hide in the bushes and behind trees to keep an eye on you. It looked they were just stalking a poor woman who was having some car problems in front of her farm home. You could have fooled anyone.

“Should we help her?” Tomas asked.

“Do we look like mechanics, Tomas? Do us a favor and keep your mouth shut.” Bi-Han berated him.

“Settle down, brother. You are only irritated because she has not done anything yet. How about we approach her now and-“ Kuai Liang was cut off when he heard you yell out to someone. All their heads turned to see what you were going on about. Time for action.

You were waving over your target and started asking for help. You acted like a clueless damsel in distress. A poor woman who can’t get her truck to start working.

“Please sir, I need your help. My car is acting all strange. Please sir, I’d really appreciate it.” You gave him your sweetest voice while looking up at him with puppy dog eyes.

Who could say no to a face like yours. He accepted which made you jump for joy and clap your hands. That wasn’t fake you were just happy that he accepted in the first place, already making the job go smoothly. Your target had no idea what he was walking into. Hell, he even thought the same thing that you were making this too easy for him. It would be him who will fall victim to you.

You kept your act going. You asked dumb questions about the car and acted all sweet when he corrected you about something. Yet you were only pissing Bi-Han off even more. He wanted to yell at you to do something else. Kill him already. The brothers were all missing the point that this was how you do your. The fact is you lure your targets in. Give them a false sense of security before striking them down. They only know how to sneak up and strike when the opportunity opens up. You just have more patience than them. They don’t have to wait any longer because now you are striking.

You offered to get the man a drink for being so kind to you. He accepted of course. You were quick with getting him a cup and you passed it to him. He looked at you strangely as he looked down into the cup with blue liquid inside of it. He asked you what was inside. You reassured him it was just Calypso lemonade, nothing bad. Well, he trusted you. You built his trust up before, why would a sweet and bubbly lady like you mess with a man’s drink?

He gulped it down quickly and immediately he started reacting. The brothers turned their full attention onto him. Alright, so maybe you weren’t so truthful. Maybe you put in some drain cleaner that was a similar color to the lemonade. Maybe, just maybe. They watched him stubble away from you while holding his throat.

“What’s happening? Did she do something?” Tomas asked, convinced he blinked and missed what you did.

“I don’t know. He just started coughing.” Kuai Liang might not know but Bi-Han suspected there was something else they weren’t thinking of.

Of course you won’t stab a man in broad daylight. You’re a professional. And then it clicked.

“Poison”

“What was that?” Both brothers asked Bi-Han.

“She has clearly poisoned him. The fool was too stupid to realize she was luring him in.” Bi-Han wants to act like he wasn’t doubting you just a few moments ago.

“I’m a no-rust-build-up woman, myself.” You declared to the guy as you watched him crawl away from you, still keeping up that sweet voice.

And just like that he was gone. No blood left over or screams to already anyone else. A quick yet painful death for him and a job well done. Now to dispose of the body.

You left quite an impression on the boys. Kuai Liang finds your tactic to be effective. You fooled them all and he find that incredible. Tomas thinks you would be amazing as a huntress. You have the patience and the sneakiness to be one. He wouldn’t mind learning a thing or two from you. And Bi-Han…what the fuck is he doing.

“Brother, are you…smiling?” Kuai Liang looks confused and Tomas seems horrified.

Bi-Han doesn’t say a word, only hums in response. He’s smiling as he watches you drag the body over the pig pen. This isn’t like a smile one does when they are day dreaming about their crush. No, this is a smile that says he likes you but not in the right ways. A closed-mouth smile that shows no warmth but a devilish desire.

You are a deceitful woman who has tricked all. You trap your victims by giving them a false sense of security. You leave no evidence and do it silently so no one would know. You are leaving that man’s family clueless of his demise. You are wicked and he likes that a lot.

Again he’s not alone in that. Tomas would like to get close to you just to learn your tricks as well. Maybe see if that persona is actually you or just some trick. Either way he wants to get to know you. Kuai Liang is awed by intellect and you have sure shown that by your well constructed plan. He can see why you are even worthy of hiring. You do it so effortlessly it makes your beauty pop out more. We got some bachelors over here.

“Should we go up to her now and tell her Lord Liu Kang’s proposal?” Tomas stepped in front of Bi-Han when asking that question. The only response he got was Bi-Han’s hand in his face, pushing him away so Bi-Han could keep looking at you.

They’ll wait this out a bit. At least it will give you enough time to dump the body into the pig pen and feed your poor, hungry pigs. They can stomach it.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You were brought before Lord Liu Kang who told you he would like to have you around. It was a big shock to you. A god wants to hire you? Slap that on your resume immediately.

You accepted the offer quickly. You thanking him for seeing that you are a good person at heart and only try to kill those who deserve such a fate. An antihero if you will. And hey, you have the chance to meet some new people now. Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas seem to be really interested in getting to know you.

Liu Kang was very suspicious of their intentions though. Mostly Bi-Han since he still had that devilish smirk on his face as he stared at you. He hasn’t even talked he just keeps giving off that low hum. Something is off. Maybe he won’t have you train with the Lin Kuei.

“Perhaps I shall send you to the Wu Shi Academy. They might be a better fit for you.” Liu Kang said in perfect earshot of the brothers.

A collective ‘no’ rang out from them which told you and him everything. They like you, they like your skills. They just won’t have any drink you give them. Especially not a Calypso.

After notes: Heathers is free on YouTube. It’s really important you know that. Might give a hint on how I thought of this. Might also be craving a Calypso badly. That Southern Peach gets me.

[2soulscollide]

tips to level up your writing skills

1. read, read, read

okay, I know, everyone keeps saying it... but it's true, and I truly believe the more you read, the better you write, because you come across different writing styles, different voices, new characters, and worlds. This applies to every writer, from amateur to professional.

2. practice makes perfect

another cliché, right.

but hear me out: I feel so much more confident about my writing skills when I write daily, rather than when I write a bit occasionally. you get lots of work done, see your book coming to life, and get better at it.

3. create an outline before you start writing

guysss, I know many people like to go with the flow, but I would recommend planning your novel before writing it, especially if it is one of your first projects.

when I started, I refused to plot my novel because I thought it was a waste of time, and I couldn't plan it all ahead. turns out that I could never finish my novels, because I started to get lost in the plot. as most of you may know, I LOVEEE to plot now!

4. use active voice instead of passive voice

passive voice is alright sometimes. I like to use it, too. but to create an immersive experience for the reader, you should go for the active voice since it creates more impact.

see something like this:

"the letter was written by Marcus who had tears in his eyes." VS "Marcus wrote the letter with tears in his eyes."

such a basic example (don't judge me!!)... but can you notice the difference? it seems so much more expressive.

5. avoid using overly complex language

repeat it after me: short. sentences. are. valid.

don't overcomplicate it! I know it's tempting to write huge sentences sometimes and make your book seem more complex and professional, but sometimes it just doesn't come out as expected, and we end up exhausting our readers.

6. don't just for yourself

this can be a polemic topic. it's quite common to see people saying you should write for yourself, but let's be honest here: if you're trying to get your book published, you should have your target public in mind while developing your book. knowing your audience to know what works and what doesn't work is extremely important. but hey, you must also enjoy what you're writing!

7. use dialogue!!!

I find dialogue so important, and I love it so much! ensure you develop a distinctive voice for your characters to make them seem real to the reader. also, if possible, read the dialogue out loud and imagine if it would work out in real life.

8. don't be afraid to use metaphors

metaphors will turn a "basic" work into something more sophisticated when applied in the right places. you might want to avoid overusing it because it can ruin the experience, but it's something up to you, and what feels better to you.

9. research your topic before writing

okay, this is pretty self-explanatory. if you're writing about a topic or a location you don't know much about, avoid making assumptions or clichés. instead, do some research, take notes, or even ask chatgpt questions to help you.

10. don't be afraid to experiment and try new things

I was a fanfiction writer for a long time and was so scared to try original fiction because it seemed so much different from what I was accustomed to doing. however, once I decided to try something new, I discovered I liked to do it more than fanfiction. you'll never know until you try it!

11. never give up on your writing, keep practicing and learning to improve your skills

it takes time to acquire new skills, so if you're new to writing, please don't give up! It's fun and a long path, and I promise you'll love it, even more, the more you write!

I hope this was helpful! <3 have a nice day

also, i just released a new freebie!!! it's a free workbook for writers with over 90 pages to guide you through the process of plotting a novel. you might be interested in checking it out!! :D click here

[wc-confessions]

Here's a rapid fire list of non-Warriors xenofiction novels WC fans can read. Will say I haven't read all of these, and in that case, I will not leave a comment. Obligatory Wings of Fire, Guardians of Ga'hoole, Redwall, and Watership Down recommendation. Honorable mentions go to other Erin Hunter series - Seekers, Survivors, Bravelands, and Bamboo Kingdom. Varjak Paw series by S.F. Said. Two books. Geared toward a younger audience like Warriors. I can vouch this as one of my favorites. I can see it being an acquired taste, especially for someone older, though. Tailchaser's Song by Tad Williams. One book. Personally, I'd only recommend this book if you're super interested in learning about the inspiration for Warriors. Otherwise, its themes have aged like milk and the story isn't all too special. I will say the plot gets pretty decent and horrifying at the halfway point. The Deadlands series by Skye Melki-Wegner. Three books. I have completed the first and a read a little of the second. Geared towards a younger audience like Warriors. You can tell that the audience is younger due to the dialogue and characters. Descriptions are good and I'd imagine thrilling for the target demographic. In fact, I'd describe the books, that I've read so far, as thrilling in general. However, the "Jurassic Park meets Wings of Fire" comparison is a lie. Wings of Fire is accurate but this series has nothing to do with the Jurassic Park movies or books besides dinosaurs. It'd be closer to say "The Land Before Time meets Wings of Fire." I would definitely recommend it if you're looking for Warriors with dinosaurs. Silverwing series by Kenneth Oppel. I've only read a little of the first book, so I don't have much to talk about. I will tell you that a graphic novel has recently released! Fire Bringer by David Clement-Davies. One book. About deer. No comment. Black Beauty by Anna Sewell. One book. Horses. No comment. Raptor Red by Robert T. Bakker. One book. Utahraptors. No comment. A Black Fox Running by Brian Carter. One book. Foxes. No comment. Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH by Robert C. O'Brien. One book. Mice. No comment. Foxcraft series by Inbali Iserles. Three books. Foxes. No comment. The Tygrine Cat series by Inbali Iserles. Two books. Cats. No comment. The Books of the Named series by Clare Bell, more commonly known as Ratha's Creature or the Ratha series. Five books. Prehistoric Dinaelurus nimravids. No comment. I think I've listed enough in this ask, but I'll drop this xenofiction list https://www.tumblr.com/the-owl-tree/745956715298799616/xenofiction-reading-recommendation-list?source=share in case anyone wants more.

.

[seeingteacupsindragons]

A Glossary of Commonly Confused/Misused Terms, Writer Edition

Alpha reader: Someone who reads along as you write a first draft of something to cheer you along and gas you up while you work. Sometimes they also provide suggestions of where to go or otherwise comment on what they’d like to see happen.

Beta reader: The writing equivalent of a beta tester. This is not someone who generally edits anything or tries to “fix” the story. They read and note how they feel and react to various things in the story so the writer can decide if it’s a “glitch” to fix. When I myself use these, I actually prefer they not be writers and in my target audience, because that’s the perspective I’m seeking for live reactions. Fanfiction betas tend to incorporate roles below this point because fanfiction is often a more casual environment with fewer people looking over the writing.

Proofreader: Prooooobably not what you think they do. A proofreader reads proofs. A proof is basically a “test” copy or a version of something. When you reformat a book from Scrivener or a Word document or Google Docs or whatever you wrote it in to something you can actually print as book-shaped or upload it as, sometimes weird things happen. A proofreader will compare these versions/formats to ensure that new formatting/file type/etc. didn’t mess up anything that actually matters. If you’re hired as a proofreader, you don’t usually edit anything (unless your employer is wildly misusing the term). These are not people who fix grammar or punctuation. They check for changes and to make sure everything came out the way it should have.

Copyeditor: What you probably think a proofreader does. Someone who edits copy. What is copy? Text, basically. Copyeditors edit grammar and punctuation and align the writing to whatever style guide is being used for some text and ensure the copy is clear and understandable. If they’re editing your voice regularly, they’re probably overstepping, but they will often suggest rearranging sentences or punctuating them differently. Professionally, this is a promotion from proofreading.

Developmental editors: People who suggest edits to the actual story—not word choices or grammar, but feedback on plot points and structure and characters arcs and how the story is being told and how it can be fixed. They are editing the story’s development. They provide what is called an "edit letter" that outlines changes to various aspects of the story.

Acquiring editors: The people who agree to buy your book at publishing companies. They usually do a dev editor’s job as well, but often specifically with an eye to making it more saleable.

Critique partner: A fellow writer with whom you exchange your writing for editing. Exactly what this entails depends on the people involved and what each wants, but this is someone who gives feedback on the book before an editor sees it and suggests how to fix the story as written. They can be any combination of the above terms depending on the partnership (except acquiring editors; they don't do that). Typically this will stray into developmental editing on some level.

[pastshadows]

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 14: Peril

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

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

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

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

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 6.3K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

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

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

Time itself moves sluggishly as the spawn descend upon the petrified, screaming miscreants that share your cell. Your heartbeat thuds in your chest, fighting your ribs like striking bolts of lightning. You steel yourself against the rising panic, wrapping yourself in unflappable poise and watch for your opening.

As soon as the wave of spawn crashes and parts, you squeeze Hecat’s hand to signal her it’s time to move and bound through the gap. The corridor is a catastrophe, the stones painted in fresh crimson, bodies of guards ripped open, with their raw innards spilling out like gruesome garlands wreathing the walls. Hecat pales at the sight, dry heaving, but you’ve long become acquainted with such nightmarish affairs.

You tug Hecat along behind you, bare feet smacking the stone with such force it sends jolts of pain charging up your legs as your bones shudder with the impact of every step. That is nothing compared to the acute, explosive pain stabbing your chest with every inhalation.

Hecat stops, acquiring a shield and sword from a fallen guard. The blood makes the stone slick, and every step must be taken carefully. You cannot afford to fall. A stumble will almost surely mean death. Spawn that have finished their meals are starting to take notice. Hecat deflects them with her shield, stabbing with her sword when she has an opening and keeping you safely behind her.

The passageways are labyrinthine, confused tangles of convoluted twists and turns that sometimes double back or arrive at dead ends unexpectedly. Tears are creeping out of the corners of your eyes, dallying down your grimy, red cheeks from the agony radiating from your ribs with every expansion of your lungs. Panic starts to crumble the blanket of calm, surging through you as you frantically dart through the shadowy, disorienting hallways. The angry army of thudding footfalls of the spawn in pursuit echoes through the corridors.

Bounding up a dim stairway, the hilt of a dagger peeks out from between the joints of armour, nestled into the corpse of a guard. You yank it out with a quick tug, but time is not on your side this night. A spawn grasps your ankle, its clawed fingers sinking into your flesh and jerks you off your feet. Your head bounces off the stone slab stair, peppering your vision with black sparks of dazing pain. The only thing you can see through your muddled sight is those glowing eyes. You lash out with the dagger and sink it deeply into the socket. As soon as you’re released, Hecat is already towing you back to your feet, pulling you up the stairs and into the next room.

The milky eyes and pallor of bloodless bodies greet you. The undead in this part of the prison seem to roam, unsure of their orders, but as soon as the thudding of your heart is heard, their heads snap in your direction. They swarm around you like enraged bees. Despite Hecat’s exhaustion, she is unwavering. Her sword slashes through the air, shield deflecting the snapping fangs and shredding claws.

You feel the pangs of irritation at your uselessness. Your magic, once your greatest weapon, is now a prison in its own right. The vampires press in closer, surrounding you like a pack of ravenous wolves, their movements orchestrated by an unseen hand, but they don’t move to attack further as they corral you.

“What are they doing?” Hecat pants with wild eyes, frantically searching for an escape.

“I don’t know.”

A red aura shifts around the spawn, the same one Cazador used to control Astarion’s sibling during their midnight visit to your camp. They part for a tall, pallid figure that appears seemingly from the shadows.

“Nice to see you again, Sorceress,” it speaks. You recognize that voice, and your heart arrests in your chest, sinking into your stomach.

Aldous.

Your mind reels, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. No. He is dead. You watched the life be abducted from his eyes yourself. Yet, he stands before you, pale as death with glowing crimson eyes. His face splits into that repellent smile, and his cackling resounds off the walls.

“That one.” He points at you, “She is to be taken alive. The Tiefling matters not.”

“What the fuck,” Hecat breathes.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Sorceress,” Aldous laughs, hysterical and bone-chilling. “And your fanged friend. I cannot wait to drain you dry in front of him.”

A harrowing scream tears from your throat, a melody of rage and sorrow as Aldous disappears in a burst of red, drawn home by his unknown master. Grabbing Hecat’s hand, you eye a door and dash toward it with renewed vigour. The vampire’s claws and fangs pierce your skin as you burst through the legion. You stab and slash with reckless abandon, sinking the dagger into anything that attempts to halt you.

Hecat and you stumble into the room and try to close the door on writhing arms and legs. Hecat lashes out with her sword, severing limbs from bodies obstructing it until it slams shut and locks.

“Help me!” Hecat yells as she throws a table over. You help barricade the door with whatever is available.

“They want you?” Hecat snaps, levelling the sword at you, “Who the fuck are you, dragon girl, and why the fuck do they want you alive?”

You’re doubled over, hands on your thighs, trying to inhale as much air as your lungs can possibly take, but the splitting pain in your side hampers your ability to catch your breath.

“I don’t know,” you retort venomously, eyeing the sword and Tiefling.

“That one knows you,” she hisses, shifting her stance and getting ready to strike. “Who the fuck is he?”

“A dead man,” you sigh, pushing your hair from your eyes. “I killed him. Apparently, it didn’t stick.”

“You’re a murderer?!” She gasps, bringing the steel blade to your neck.

“Yes,” you growl, unbothered by the threat.

Hecat laughs, withdrawing her blade, “I would not have thought you possible of such a heinous crime.” She winks, “I like you even more now.”

You cannot help but choke out a pained laugh, but it’s more of a groan than anything. You look around. Waxy moonlight floods the room from a small window. It’s the first window you’ve seen, but bars in a crisscross pattern make escape impossible, and the wood door is starting to splinter and crack under the barrage rattling it on its hinges.

A sudden shift in the atmosphere makes your skin prickle as the dam of suppression is released, and the Weave returns to you in an overwhelming deluge. You don’t have time to wonder why or how, and you don’t much care. The Weave causes the air to crackle, abuzz with powerful energy, and you fill yourself with it. You grip the iron and allow the potency of your draconic fire to spill out of you with a daunting laugh you cannot stifle. The bars heat, whine and wail, glowing white-hot and oozing, and Hecat thrusts her sword into the gooey mess of molten metal to clear your path.

The moon hangs high in the sky, casting an eerie glow upon the building, and the air is brisk as you clamber onto the roof. You cast Shatter, crumbling the stone around the window to block the pursuing spawn.

“That’s some potent magic you have there,” Hecat grins. “I’ve never seen anyone melt metal with their hands before.”

Her words of praise float over you as you eye the raging war of the courtyard below. Some guards remain alive, fighting another horde of spawn descending on the grounds. From the height, you can see beyond the solid walls surrounding the compound, and your feet move unconsciously, eyes skipping over the landscape - searching, searching, searching…

There.

“We could jump,” Hecat says hesitantly, peering over the edge.

“No,” you bark with a smile. “We fly. Follow me.”

You cast Fly, taking her hand and soar into the air. Hecat yelps at the suddenness of your movement and clings to you. You cannot quite reach your target before your feet hit the soft, muddied terrain. Spawn trample the ground, careening toward you like a blight on the land. Hecat stands in front of you, but you are muzzled no longer.

“Detono!” You howl, and the wave of crackling energy bowls the spawn over.

You cast Fireball and rain blazing death, warping the fire into flames that burn blue, bending it to your will. Your fingers dance in the moonlight, under stars that envy how bright you burn. Hecat stands at the ready, prepared and reinvigorated, but with unfathomable rage, you don’t miss. With every step, every twitch of your fingers, every syllable that brushes off your tongue, you are violence, you are slaughter, you are death incarnate.

It feels magnificent. Exhilarating. You are so wonderfully, splendidly fucking alive.

Whatever spawn remain have begun to retreat, much to your displeasure, disappearing in puffs of red mist, back to whatever hole they crawled out of.

“Kamena!” Strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the ground, and pressing you tightly to firm, sculpted muscles. You would do anything to stay in this embrace but the pain in your ribs forces a pained cry from your lips, and Astarion jerks away from you.

Hecat screams, charging forward with her blade levelled at Astarion before you have time to explain. Astarion dodges swiftly and has one blade to Hecat’s throat and the other pressed firmly to her stomach before you can blink.

“Astarion, don’t,” you wheeze, shaking your head. “She helped me escape. Hecat, this is my friend.”

“Friend?” Hecat barks as Astarion releases her with a skeptical frown, and she reels back. “You failed to mention that your friend is also a fucking vampire.”

“Astarion is a person,” you growl. Without the adrenaline rocketing through your veins, your injuries and weariness have begun to take their toll on your body, and you stumble.

Astarion catches you, “You’re injured?”

“Her ribs are broken, I think,” Hecat replies for you. “The guards did not treat her well.”

“Shadowheart!” Astarion bellows and slightly lifts the hem of your shirt, revealing the edges of mottled blue, black and yellowing bruise expanding up your side. “Good Gods, my love.”

“I’m fine.” You bring Astarion’s eyes to yours, gazing into the scarlet sea you have longed to swim in. It almost makes it past you, but your brows furrow, “Did you just call for Shadowheart?”

A hand lays on your shoulder, and blue magic laves away the cutting pain in your side, “This was supposed to be a nice, boring vacation,” Shadowheart tuts, nose rising into the air with a snort. “I should have known better than to think you might be able to keep yourself out of trouble.”

“Shadowheart!” You pivot, wrapping your arms around her. “Gods. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” She drawls, returning the hug gently.

“Where is the wizard?” Astarion asks, “We should get her home. She smells terrible.”

Shadowheart chuckles with Astarion as you frown at them. “She really does. If I can smell her, I can’t imagine how bad she smells to you, vampire.”

“Be glad you can’t,” Astarion wrinkles his nose at you but sweeps you off your feet and into his arms, kissing your forehead.

“Take her home,” Shadowheart instructs. “I’ll wait for Gale.”

The conversation between them starts to sound far away as lethargy drags at your mind.

“What do we do about this one?” Astarion gestures to Hecat.

“Leave her with me,” Shadowheart concludes with a tinge of threat. “She can bring me up to speed on exactly what in the Hells is going on around here while we wait for Gale.”

“She helped me,” you murmur. “Be nice, Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart smirks, “Aren’t I always nice?”

“Wake up.”

“No,” you grumble, forcing your eyes open.

“Yes.” Astarion purrs with cold breath on the shell of your ear that sends delightful shivers down your spine. “You are not crawling into our bed smelling like a flophouse latrine.”

You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body tightly to him. He tries to tug you away half-heartedly between his grunting protests, but there’s no real force behind his playful pulling.

“Now, you smell, too!” You chime as he sets you back on your feet and starts drawing a bath.

“Naughty girl,” Astarion smirks, chuckling.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the gilded mirror. Your hair is matted and dingy with grime. Filth streaks your face, dulling your complexion. Your shirt, once a pale blue, has been rendered brown, stained with dirt and blood that’s both new and long dried.

Movement behind you catches your eyes, whisking them away from your reflection. Bottles of oils float through the air, appearing to move on their own as Astarion pours oils into the water, and notes of lavender, sandalwood, and vanilla arise with the steam. This is something you’ve never gotten used to. Objects seemingly floating, as if picked up by a breeze and carried aloft of their own free will.

“Odd, isn’t it?” Astarion says, moving your hair and bringing you back from your contemplations.

“What?”

“No reflection.” Astarion’s cool fingers curl into the hem of your shirt, and you lift your arms, allowing him to peel the disgusting garment from your body, “Objects moving on their own, a ghost underdressing you.”

“A little,” you admit. “I just don’t understand how you always look so fucking perfect all the time.”

“Oh,” he giggles, turning you around, hooking his fingers in your waistband, and crouching. “Do go on.”

You put your hands on his shoulders, leaning some of your weight into him while he strips you, lifting one leg at a time, “I missed you."

“I missed you, too. Very much.” He says, taking your hand in his, “Come. Into the bath with you before it gets cold, and you chastise me.”

Climbing into the steaming water is like climbing into a sun-soaked dream. How very odd is it you can forget how your skin feels when it’s clean. As you slough off the dirt, blood and filth, the pads of your fingers do not recognize the buttery softness of your skin without the grainy texture.

“Tilt your head back,” Astarion instructs. He pours hot water over your head, fingers gently detangling your matted hair, lathering it with soap.

The bruise extending up your side is still faintly visible, staining your skin in hues of blue and yellow, and your fingers skate up, poking and prodding.

“What happened in there?” Astarion brushes the backs of his fingers gently down the marbled skin.

“The guards had a bone to pick with me,” you shrug, trying to cover the solemnity of the conversation with a pleasant smile. “I don’t wish to talk about it right now, Astarion.”

“Kamena…” Astarion sighs with a sullen shake of his head.

You press your fingers gently under his chin, bringing his eyes to yours. Gods. When he looks at you, it is not a glance. It is a song, a message, a constellation of promises wrapped in scarlet, and you never want to look away.

“I’m not running, Astarion.” You assure him, “I will tell you all about it, but tonight, can we just be us?”

Astarion smiles, nodding his understanding, “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Astarion’s fingers massage your scalp as he washes the soap from your hair, rinsing it until the water finally runs clear.

“Do we have wine?” You ask on a whim.

“Gale does,” Astarion grins momentarily, but his lips press into a thin line. “Is this celebratory drinking or “it’s better to forget” drinking?”

You wince at the question. You know it’s not exactly the healthiest way to deal with your problems. You are tempted to lie to him but force the truth from your lips, “A little of both?��

“I can live with that, I suppose,” Astarion nods, helping you stand and wrapping a plush towel around you, patting you dry. You smile as he dotes on you, “I know where the wizard hides the good stuff. I will go raid his cellar.”

Slipping into one of Astarion’s shirts, you light the fire with naught but a thought. It feels good to have your magic back after being deprived of it for so long. You grip the Weave, pulling the mystical essence from your blood and bones, and it feels like taking a deep breath after you didn’t realize you were holding it. Fire spurts out of your palm, and you fashion it into a ring, forcing the flames to move unnaturally as they chase each other around in a never-ending loop.

You lift the flaming ring above your head, hovering between your palms like a fiery halo, and force it to expand and contract simply because you can.

“Did no one ever teach you it’s dangerous to play with fire, Sorceress?”

“Perhaps for the untrained, Rogue,” you smirk, snap your fingers, and the halo bursts like a firework, pinpricks of fire whirling around you.

You let the fire ebb and die out slowly, relinquishing your magic with a sorrowful sigh. The Weave fills you with life, comfort and peace. Without it, you’re thrust back into a stark reality. Astarion hands you a glass, and you grab the bottle and wink as you drink deeply. The wine is a crisp white wine, buttery with hints of vanilla. It sparkles on your tongue and fizzes down your throat, and you cannot help but close your eyes at the pleasure of it all after drinking brown-tinged water for a week.

“Shall we sit, or would you prefer to keep standing in the middle of the room?”

“Gods,” you smirk, handing the bottle to Astarion and trotting over to the bed. You flop onto it gracelessly. “Let’s drink in bed! I’ve been sleeping on stone for a week, and this is lovely, but it’s missing something.”

“And what’s that, my dear?” Astarion cocks his head handsomely with a boyish smile that tells you he knows exactly what you think it’s missing.

“You!”

“In that case,” Astarion giggles and removes his shirt. He thrusts the wine bottle into your hands. Your fingers fumble to catch it, senses entirely possessed by him, “We might as well get comfortable, yes?”

“Yes,” you breathe, swallowing thickly.

Astarion saunters around the bed, discarding pieces of clothing along the way. He makes it look casual, unpremeditated, but it’s maddeningly slow.

“You’re a tease,” you mutter under your breath, sipping the wine and slipping out of your shirt.

“I am not!” He chuckles, “You’re just exceptionally impatient. Good things come to do who wait, sweetheart.”

“Do they?” You quirk a brow at him, “I’m not so sure about that. Do you have proof of this notion?”

“I waited two hundred years for you.” Astarion purrs as the bed dips under his weight, and he presses his body against your back, wrapping his arms around you.

“I love you,” you murmur, craning your head to look at him, slipping your fingers into his hair.

“I love you, too. I should not have let the wizard talk to me into leaving you in there so long. I—“

“Not tonight, Astarion.” It sounds like a whimpering plea, “Please."

“Right. Apologies,” he rasps, lips against your neck.

“Have you been eating?”

“Always so worried about me,” his lips twitch into a smile. “I’m fine.”

Perhaps he is fine, but you are most certainly not. Suddenly, you’re impacted with a deep-seated need to feel that intimacy, that descent through the branches of his veins. You want to bleed into him, your soul and his, intertwined as one. The intensity of the emotion catches you off guard.

Are you chasing the bloodless daze that his feedings provide? Are you hoping it will lay a shroud over the dread sinking your stomach? Is this another way to run?

Maybe.

But you are so good at running.

“Would you like a nibble?” You bite your lower lip, trying to keep the hint of anticipation from your voice.

Astarion jerks his head up, pushing your shoulder until you’re lying on your back and looking up at him with an arched brow. He regards you thoughtfully, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea tonight.”

“Why?”

Astarion rifles his fingers through his hair, “You are well aware of the effect you have on me when I feed on you. I cannot promise that once your blood dawns on my tongue, your skin under my fingertips, I won’t lose myself in the need to make every inch of you mine.”

You wrap an arm around Astarion’s neck carefully, kissing along his jaw. You whisper in his ear, “So make me yours.”

Astarion shudders amorously as you ghost your lips over the ridge of his ear to the tapered tip. He grabs your waist with a low, rumbling growl, pulling you into his lap to straddle him. His desire for you pressed firmly against your already slick sex. Astarion looks deeply into your eyes, holding you still as if trying to figure out if you’re in your right mind.

You’re trying to figure out the same thing.

He catches your lips in his, gentle at first but with progressively more ferocity. He groans into your mouth. It radiates down your spine, stealing your breath, and a chill rushes through you, settling in your core. Your heart flutters with desire, the increasing drumbeat of it making its way between your thighs.

Astarion’s hand grips your hips, undulating them, his cock sliding between your folds, brushing up against your swollen flesh. You have been so fundamentally deprived of his affection that every touch sends shivers over your skin, every slide of his tongue against yours makes you want to sigh, and every groan steals the air from your lungs.

His fingers tease the peaks of your nipples, and you throw your head back and gasp. Astarion kisses up the column of your throat, his free hand cradling the back of your head, fingers twisted in your hair.

There’s but a moment of clarity. You are running headfirst, barrelling into anything that might hope to make you numb - him, pleasure, alcohol, bloodlessness.

Astarion’s fingers glide between your lips and sweep over your sensitive pearl, and coherence is lost in a white-hot rush of pleasure. You melt, draping your arms over him and biting his shoulder to hush your cries. His lips trace along your neck, and you roll your head to the side. His fangs sink into your flesh, and he growls, deeply and lofty, his chest rumbling against yours as if thunder was rolling through it. Your essence trickles through his veins like a gentle rain as he draws in methodical sips, savouring every drop.

Your hips buck as he continues his ministrations. You yearn to feel that decedent stretch of your walls as they envelop his cock, and he knows it. Astarion encourages you to lift your hips, pressing the swollen, blunt head of his cock to your entrance, and you sink down his length as he rubs against all your ridges so exquisitely that it makes your vision blur.

You don’t even notice his fangs retreat from your neck as his lips mould to yours to dampen your unadulterated breathy moans. You close your eyes and fade in and out as your head spins around with pleasure so intense you cannot think straight. The woozy fog of blood loss only adds to your dwindling reason and logic. With every pump of his hips and every roll of yours, you are walking on the fine edge of paradise.

But there’s something not quite right in his movements. They are tactical, methodical, and too perfect. You drive your eyes open, blinking away that haze of ecstasy. When you look into Astarion’s eyes, he’s not looking back at you. He’s looking past you as if through you, but his body knows this dance well enough, and he continues to go through the motions even when he’s a million miles away.

You go rigid, halting all movement in a split second, and your heart seizes, bound by the flash freeze in your chest. It jolts him back to himself, and he blinks rapidly, almost confused.

“Astarion,” you purr, concealing the hurt in your voice. Why didn’t he tell you? Why didn’t he say something as he promised he would? “Let's stop.”

“No,” he protests, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”

“It’s okay, my love.” You cradle his cheek, trying very hard not to move a muscle until he tells you, “Tell me when I can move.”

“I’m sorry,” he looks away from you, brows downturned, rubbing his eyes. “I want this. You. I was there, and then I just… wasn’t. I don’t know what happened.”

“Healing is messy. Isn’t it?”

“You are a gift,” Astarion folds his arms around you, hugging you close to him, and you try to hug him back, but it’s admittedly awkward when he’s still inside you, and you’re trying your best to keep yourself still. He laughs, “You can move, Kamena. I’m not uncomfortable.”

“You’re still inside me,” you retort, almost as if to alert him to this fact.

“Yes, that’s considerably obvious, but thank you for pointing it out,” he chuckles as you relax slightly. “Do you think we could stay like this? Just for a little bit? I find it… strangely helpful.”

This is new. Not unwelcome, but definitely new, “You want to sit here with your cock inside me, and what, chat?”

“Precisely!” He chimes happily, leaning back with a grin, “I’m so glad you understand, darling. Hells. Do I have some stories for you! Do you know how hard it is to break into the government buildings here? They are locked up tighter than a patriar’s purse, but I do love a good challenge.”

You can’t help but burst laughing at his carefree attitude, the way he’s still rock hard inside you, talking about committing crimes as if you were sitting at a table sharing stories over dinner and drinks. This is not typically how you remember him reacting, but this… this is progress, and you will take it.

You groan, “Why were you breaking into the civil buildings, Astarion?”

“How do you think Gale knew where to find and nullify the device suppressing magic at the prison?” Astarion drawls, pleased with himself. “That man is terrible at stealth. Even worse than you. He complained about his knees the entire time! Gods. I am centuries older than him, and you don’t see me bellyaching.”

“How utterly annoying! I’m surprised you didn’t kill him,” you giggle at how he smirks with a wily glint in his crimson eyes. He definitely considered it. “In that case, you’re going to have to take me on a date where we break into this government building that gave you a hard time. This is something I must see.”

“You cheeky little minx,” he laughs. “I would love nothing more.”

The murmur of voices, clinking of cutlery on the tableware, and smell of what is surely Gale’s cooking drift down the hallway as you approach. Astarion follows closely behind, his hand at the small of your back. He has not stopped touching you in some fashion since you returned, as if he’s worried that you might disappear.

You stop dead in your tracks when you see the back of Hecat’s head, sitting at the table, shovelling whatever gruel Gale provided into her mouth and nodding as he recounts tales of your grand adventure in the Underdark. It takes substantial effort not to tell Gale to shut his trap. He does realize that you met this person in prison, right?

Shadowheart sees you first, leaping from her chair and dashing over, sweeping you into a tight hug, “Gods. You smell much better,” she giggles when you groan and squeeze her hard enough to expel some air from her lungs, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you nod, but you haven’t been able to take your gaze, etched with skepticism off Hecat.

Shadowheart whispers, “She had nowhere else to go. Gale invited her.”

You snort, “Of course he did.”

“I’ve been watching her closely,” Shadowheart sniffs. “And I will continue to do so.”

You suppose the woman was instrumental in your escape, and perhaps, for now, you should give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Sit,” Astarion instructs, pulling a chair out for you. “I will get you some food.”

You arch a brow at him and give him an almost imperceptible shake of your head. Although anything will be better than the stale bread and dried meat the prison served, whatever Gale has fashioned resembles wet dog food, and your stomach, as hungry as it is, flops in your belly.

Astarion kisses your temple, “Trust me.”

You sit, and Astarion gathers fresh fruit from the fridge, cutting it up in deft, precise movements. He glares at the knife spitefully, assessing the edge and rolling his eyes. You would giggle, knowing he’s judging Gale for the state of his knives, if you were not so flabbergasted that Astarion is preparing your food.

Hecat’s voice breaks you from your astoundment, “You clean up nicely! I almost forgot what colour your hair was under all that crud.”

She, too, looks substantially different without dirt smudged on her face, “I could say the same about you,” you retort a little too sourly.

Hecat smiles, not catching the venom in your voice, “Your friends are very nice.”

“Yes,” you give Gale a sideways glance, and he looks bashful. “Gale is very generous and trusting.”

Gale’s face flushes red, and he clears his throat, putting a finger in the collar of his robe, and pulling it away from his neck like the garment is restricting his breath.

Astarion places a bowl of perfectly diced fruit before you. He sits, dragging his chair close to yours so he can keep a hand resting on your thigh. You don’t miss the way Shadowheart glares at him with unspoken bitterness.

“Dear Shadowheart already gave me quite the berating,” he shimmies his shoulders as if he enjoyed it.

He actually might have.

“Not enough of one if you ask me.” Shadowheart scoffs, her eyes narrowed and blazing with acidity.

Hecat arches a brow, confused at what is going on, and you’re not about to lay out your life story for some stranger you met in prison, so you push the conversation forward.

“Aldous is a vampire,” you say far too casually and are met with looks of shock and silence.

Gale and Shadowheart eye Astarion.

Astarion scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Oh, don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t my bloody doing. I am a mere spawn. I do not have the power to turn anyone. Gods,” he shakes his head. “I don’t believe it possible. I disposed of him. Thoroughly.”

“Did you destroy his body?” You ask. Gale almost chokes on his tea at the indifference in your voice.

Astarion nods, “Entirely. There was nothing left.”

“Is that the man who was after you?” Hecat asks, but her eyes are not on you.

They are moored to Astarion, like a shipwreck lying on the ocean floor, irretrievably bound. Astarion doesn’t seem to notice as he typically does not, but these dew-eyed ogles always make jealously flare to life. You place your hand on Astarion, stop yourself from growling “mine,” and instead, settle on scowling.

Astarion is alerted to your discontentment by the heat radiated from your palm. He makes a show of kissing each of your fingers, slow and lingering, trying very hard not to snicker. He finds your jealousy endearing but equally foolish, and perhaps it is.

Hecat does not seem to care or notice. It drives you mad, so you crawl into his lap, placing yourself between him and her gawking orange eyes. You can hear Shadowheart chuckling under her breath. She knows your protectiveness of Astarion all too well.

Astarion remains casual about it as if it’s not unusual for you to sit in his lap during breakfast. He grabs the bowl of fruit you have yet to finish and shoves it into your hands, “Eat.”

You grumble curses under your breath only he can hear, at him and his bossiness, at Hecat, and shovel fruit into your mouth.

Astarion chuckles, kissing your cheek, and purrs reassuringly, “I only have eyes for you, thiramin.”

You know this, but it’s not his eyes you’re concerned about.

A knock on the door breaks you from your brewing hostility, and you nearly answer it as a reflex, but he holds you and shakes his head, “No. Not this time.”

“I’ll get it,” Shadowheart chimes.

Gale accompanies Shadowheart. All three of you are holding the Weave, ready to cast at a moment’s notice. There is an undertone of mumbling, and Astarion’s face transforms into a formidable scowl. His grip on you tightens, and he brandishes a dagger.

“Blackwell,” he growls.

Flames immediately jump to life across your skin, licking up your forearms and through your hair. Hecat is on her feet, her fists balled, stirred by your unease.

Gale returns, looking contrite, wracking his hand over his face, “I’m sorry, my friend, but we must hear him out.”

Astarion is the first to answer, his voice rough and grated in warning, “Absolutely fucking not! I don’t care what information he has or what he has to say, Gale. If you let him into this house, I will kill him. I promise you that. You would not want to get blood all over these lovely floors. Would you?”

“Information?” You ask, placing a hand on Astarion’s as he grips the dagger so tightly his fist shakes.

“Don’t be an idiot, Kamena,” Astarion snarls.

“My son,” you hear Mr. Blackwell’s voice as he sidles up behind Gale as if using him as a shield. Shadowheart has a tight clutch on his shoulder, bristling with fury, “I’ve made a grave mistake. I know I have no right to ask, but I don’t know where else to turn. I... I need your help.”

“Help?” You seethe, fingernails digging into the table to keep yourself from burning him where he stands, shoulders slumped, wringing his hat in his hands. “You want our help?! That’s laughable.”

“You killed him.” Mr. Blackwell mewls, “Didn’t you?”

You do not answer. No one does. Instead, you level him with a glower sharp enough to cut through mountains.

It is answer enough.

“I made a deal,” he continues. “No one would listen to me. No one cared. I was out of options, and then I was approached by a woman while I was at a tavern. She told me she could bring him back. She told me there was a spell that would return him to me. She said the only payment she would ask was that he would be in her service. I... I did not ask questions. I did not know what she was!”

“You godsdamned idiot,” you hiss, clenching your teeth so hard the nerves trill. “You made a deal with a vampire?”

“Nobles,” Hecat scoffs with a disgusted twist of her lips. “All wealth, zero intelligence.”

“I didn’t know!” Mr. Blackwell cries, slipping to the floor into a puddle of sorrow. “She said he would return to me the next night, and he did, but he was not the same. His mother let him in. She was so happy to see him she did not notice or care. She hugged him. He… He bit her! I could not get him to stop. He looks like you,” Mr. Blackwell says sullenly, nodding toward Astarion. “Red eyes, pale as a sheet.”

“I am sure he does,” Astarion beams a fanged, threatening grin at him, making Mr. Blackwell squeak like a mouse caught in a trap.

Questions are whirling through your mind. Why would a Vampire Lord take notice of you? Why would they waste resources – spawn, scrolls or otherwise? Why bother having you imprisoned, beaten, and weakened? There is always a purpose to their madness, but what could you have that they want?

“What could a Vampire Lord possibly want with you?” Gale echos your thoughts, fingers on his chin. “And why bring Aldous back? How did they bring him back?”

“Aldous is easy. Most likely a scroll of True Resurrection. I imagine they turned him because they knew his thirst for revenge would make him easy to manipulate. Vengeance is a powerful motivator.” Your brows furrow, tapping the table with your finger rapidly, “What I don’t understand is what use they would have for any of us. I can’t think of a single relic in our possession that would do a Vampire Lord any good.”

Hecat looks between all of you with a puzzled look. She knows too much now, adding yet another complication.

“Astarion,” Shadowheart prompts him, “You’re the resident expert on vampires. Care to speculate as to why they would go through all this trouble?”

Astarion’s brows furrow and he shrugs, “I don’t have the slightest clue. Vampires are territorial beasts, but I do not think they would go to such lengths when they could have simply attacked me while I was hunting if their concern was territory.”

You give the worn noble on the floor a once over, and you feel nothing but hatred for the pathetically snivelling man. Should you feel merciful? Gods. When did you become so callous? “Did Aldous say anything else?”

“He muttered things here and there.” Mr. Blackwell sighs letting his head drop into his hands, “Something about ruins being the key and a contract, but none of it made any sense. He seemed like he was in a haze, drunk-like.”

Ruins being a key and a contract? It's not much to go on at this point, but you suppose, it’s a start.

“Whoever this Vampire Lord is,” Shadowheart crosses her arms, “They will know exactly who we are. They will not underestimate us.”

“Indeed,” Gale agrees with a curt nod. “We must take precautions, prepare and plan for the worst.”

“Who the fuck are you people?” Hecat asks, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

“Adventurers,” you trample over Gale who is about to spill your entire story, looking him in the eyes with a warning. His mouth snaps shut. “Nothing more.”

It seems your adventure in Waterdeep is just beginning.  

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

Chapters Master List - Shadows of the Past

AO3: Crossposted

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

Small Notes:

Shadowheart ❤️

I'm dying to hear all your theories on why a Vampire Lord has taken an interest! 😁

Are we trusting Hecat?

Fucking Aldous 🤬 Hopefully we get the chance to kill him... again.