#the mountains of dadness

[ithinkdogshouldvote2]

Do you guys have a headcanon/theory for dndads that isn't EXPLICITLY stated to be true but you 100% believe it was intended to be?

I'll go first; in the mountains of dadness, we hear about Willy as a kid and how his dad was an alcoholic and died from it, which is why stud takes him in. I fully believe that willys dad was beating him. There's no way that Willy as a kid was just killing cats for funzies without having learned physical violence from somewhere. Sure it COULD be because hes "just like that" but in a podcast on generational trama and cycles of abuse, it makes sense that while Willy didn't HIT Ron, he still passed on abuse in a different form. He might see it as "better" because at least Ron wasn't going to school with black eyes and bruised ribs like he was. Who cares if it's neglect or emotional abuse because if it's not leaving scars it doesn't count. OBVIOUSLY Willy was old enough to know better and he's still a piece of shit, but I think it makes him more interesting if he was once just as helpless as Ron was. Did he see himself in his son when he tried to drown him? Did that make his grip tighter? Did it make him push deeper? If you are your father in the eyes of your son, then who is he to you?

[not-actually-human]

OMG HAI HAI !! Throwing these hcs here: gender-fluid queer Glenn (any prns) & sapphic achillen Meryl (he/she) :]

here you go

[echollama]

Lantern Rite 2024 doodles!

This year's event hit a bit close to home for me personally, and I loved it🥰🥰🥰

[bigfatbreak]

Hi, I just wanted to say that I absolutely love your Viceroy AU, and if I may ask, what was Wang's reaction when Sabine died? Did he considered to have her buried in Shanghai? She was his sister, after all...

to be honest, no one took Sabine's death well. Sabine's will involved her being cremated, and she requested for some of her ashes to be transported back to Shanghai for her family. The rest are in an urn in the Dupain-Cheng household.

As adults, Sabine's and Tom's families did their best to hold up well, not for themselves, but for Marinette, who was so inconsolable about her mother's death, both sides of the family were concerned she was going to literally die of heartbreak.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 199

“Where the fuck are my legs?” 

Danny wasn’t happy. It wasn’t funny! Usually he just had a ghost tail when flying really fast, like super speed, not all the time! It’s not funny Clockwork, you’re used to having a tail, he isn’t! 

What do you mean it’s permanent?! He needs his legs! Clockwork!! He wouldn’t have agreed to the adoption if he knew he’d lose his legs! 

…Okay, that was a lie, Clockwork was a great parent who encouraged his chaos and enjoyed screwing over assholes like the Observants. But still! He looks like some sort of snake person now! No he doesn’t want a nap, he’s not a baby! 

Clockwork, why are you being quiet? He’s not a baby! He’s not a baby, right? What do you mean all ghosts are babies until they’re a hundred years dead!? But he’s a halfa- what do you mean it takes longer for Ancients?! 

No he doesn’t want that nap, he’s having a midlife crisis here several years too early! 

[risetherivermoon]

"i love freddie wongs pcs!"

his pcs:

[spacebarbarianweird]

Baby Fangs

Synopsis: Baby Alethaine is severely sick, and Astarion is afraid his daughter is going to die.

Tags: hurt/comfort, dadstarion, dhampirs

Alethaine's age: 5 month

Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion has never been so afraid in his life.

Not when he was dying in the streets of Baldur’s Gate. Not when he thought Tiriel had gone. Not when Cazador had inflicted tortures on him.

It just can’t compare to the fear of losing a child.

“She needs to make it till morning,” the healer says. “If she is alive by sunrise, she will get better.”

“But can we do anything?” Tiriel looks as if she is going to fight. “There are healing spells, potions, anything!”

“And most of them aren’t fit for a five month old child. Astarion, Tiriel, I give you my word. I’ve done everything I can. There are probably some clerics and wizards who can heal your child immediately but none of them live in Daggerlake. I am sorry.”

The healer walks away, leaving a dreadful silence in the house.

Astarion sits on the bed, clasping his hands together. Of course, things couldn't be this good. Of course something had to go wrong! How could he have been foolish enough to believe that things could be good for him?

His little daughter, Alethaine, is such a miracle, such a gift. When he first held her in his arms, he dared to hope that everything would be all right from then on. And now they tell him she's dying? That she would be dead by morning?

Alethaine whimpers weakly. She is already too tired to cry.

Tiriel looks terrible. She is a warrior, a fighter, but for the first time in her life, she has no enemy to kill. The enemy is her daughter's fever, and she can't beat it the way she beats monsters.

The baby starts coughing.

Astarion doesn't need to be a vampire to feel his daughter's pain. Her muscles are too tense. Her breathing is ragged and her heartbeat is too weak. Alethaine is suffering at this very moment, and there is nothing her parents can do about it.

Can’t give her medicine. Can’t soothe her pain.

There is a grip of death around her tiny heart and neither Tiriel nor Astarion can unclench it.

Tiriel sits on the bed, cradling Alethaine in her arms. Astarion wraps his hands around them.

“So what do we do?” he asks.

“We wait,” she answers. Her voice sounds exhausted.

He nods.

Yesterday, Alethaine was perfectly healthy. She tried to sit up, but each time her head proved too heavy and she fell on her back. Then her black eyes clouded over and a fever rose. She refused to eat and only cried like a wounded animal.

“What if she doesn’t make it?” Astarion asks.

Tiriel doesn't answer and he sees tears flowing down her cheek. “We will keep living. Could you please bring a blanket?”

Astarion reluctantly lets them go and picks up a thick fur blanket from the floor. Then they sit together with their backs against the wall, covering their sick daughter with the blanket. Only a desperate cough echoes through the room.

Children die all the time. Mostly little kids like Alethaine. Daggerlake isn't a very big town, but Astarion knows that at least three babies have died this year. From disease. Small children like this are too vulnerable. It happens all the time.

There's a chance that tomorrow Astarion will have to dig a grave and put a tiny bundle in there that never had a chance to grow up.

It's so unfair that it makes Astarion want to howl.

"Astarion," Tiriel touches his curls. "Let's talk. The silence is killing me."

“What do you want to talk about, my sweet?”

“I don't know… Anything.” Tiriel places the girl in his hands and Astarion flinches sensing the heat of Alethaine’s body. Fever. A terrible killing fever. “Do you think she is a dhampir?”

“She is an elf like I was before I died.”

When Tiriel was pregnant, he read as much as possible about dhampirs. Deadly and fast, half-vampires don’t need blood and can live in the sun. But they have vampiric strength, can walk on ceilings, and regenerate much faster than mortals. No wonder vampires are often jealous of their children.

But at the same time, the life of a dhampir is full of hardships. Neither a vampire, nor a mortal, they are doomed to be alone. Once they feel bloodlust for the first time and fangs replace the canines, they are outcasts often disowned by their own mortal families.

But does it have to be like that? Astarion has been fighting the odds against his vampiric nature for the last twenty years. Why can’t his daughter?

But Astarion is afraid they will never learn the answer to either of their questions. Alethaine opens her mouth and makes a deep breath as if suffocating. Something doesn’t allow her to breathe and she makes hissing sounds. Her little eyes are watery - by this time she can only cry.

So can her parents.

“I wouldn’t want to, I think,” Tiriel says. “If she is dhampir it means she is alone. Even if other spawns have children too, what is the chance she will ever meet them?”

Astarion kisses Tiriel’s cheek. if Alethaine dies, they bury her and leave. Daggerlake is a welcoming town but it will be a place of sorrow for them.

Tiriel adjusts herself a bit.

“Fuck” she mutters. Astarion immediately smells the blood. Tiriel’s thumb is bleeding. “A fucking splinter.”

Alethaine cries at the top of her lungs.

Astarion stares at his daughter with shock. She screams with the strength they didn’t know she posseses. It’s desperate. Angry.

Demanding.

This moment she doesn’t sound like a child. She sounds like a little beast.

Before Astarion makes up any coherent thought, Tiriel puts her bleeding thumb to Alethaine’s lips, making the blood pour into her mouth.

“Tiriel, what are you doing?”

Tiriel doesn’t answer. The girl makes sucking movements as her mother squeezes drops of blood from her finger.

And then her dark eyes turn red.

They glow in the half-lit room like two tiny lights.

Tiriel puts her fingers away and Alethaine makes a disgruntled sound. Her elven ears twitch.

The eyes stop glowing so intensely and return to their natural black color.

And then Alethaine laughs.

She is kicking her legs and stretching her arms to her parents.

The girl is happy. Happy like a well-fed vampire.

“Astarion, look at her gums.”

Two baby fangs. Very small, almost kitten-like.

“It wasn’t a fever,” Astarion mutters. “It was a bloodlust.”

Of course… If she was older she would just try to get blood from somewhere.

But when you are five months old you can’t do a lot of things.

Poor girl, how she suffered those two days.

Is dhampir bloodlust the same as vampiric? Was she feeling her stomach being ripped apart, her throat hurting and bleeding? Maybe it was even worse for her? Maybe her mortal nature was fighting the bloodthirsty monster, causing Alethaine to cry in pain?

Helpless baby alone with her pain and fear while her parents didn't think of the most obvious explanation.

** Astarion sits at the doorstep with a plushie doll in his hands. The toy has white hair and elven ears, and now Astarion is stitching small fangs to its mouth.

The tears prickle his eyes.

He’s condemned his child for a life of hardships. For loneliness, for constant war against herself. If someday Alethaine shows up at his doorstep blaming him for all her tragedies, he will not even try to defend himself.

“No, kitten, I don’t care if you don’t like it! I can’t breastfeed you anymore and I am not giving you any blood! You eat normal food!” He hears Tiriel’s voice from inside the house.

Alethaine isn’t going to comply easily.

Then he hears footsteps from behind.

“What are you doing?” Tiriel asks.

“Adding fangs to her toy.”

Tiriel sits beside him.

“You have mash in your hair.” Astarion notices

“I know. You should see the other girl. How do you feel about giving her a bath?”

“I don't think you should ask. It’s my child. It seems like… even more mine now.”

“Hey, don't be upset. We knew it was possible.”

“I just… Her eyes, Tiriel, you saw them.They were like theirs… My siblings…Cazador… the same fucking glowing eyes as if she was a vampire, too!”

“It’s because of blood. She doesn’t have to drink it, she can eat normal food.”

“We should have found the cure before making a child.”

“But we didn’t find any.”

Tiriel takes a wet piece of rag and wipes her hair. “Astarion, I am going to talk to you seriously and, please, pay attention to every word I say.”

“I am all pointy ears, my love.”

“I was beaten and humiliated daily for who I was. My family didn't even give me a name because they despised me. But when I met elves for the first time they called me “garbage” - Biir. Half-something, half a person. Half elves aren't uncommon. There are surprisingly many in big cities. But I’ve been taught to despise my body, to hate my ears, to be embarrassed of my own existence. And our daughter is a dhampir. And I am sure there aren’t many like her. This world will have a thousand opportunities to shove her differences up to her nose. This world will teach Alethaine to hate herself. I can guarantee you she will try to pull her fangs out or maybe will ask someone to knock them out. She will cover herself not to let people see how pale she truly is. And we must not be a part of her problems.”

“Tiriel, I would never - “

“She is a girl, Astarion. Her image of herself will be formed mostly by you, not by me. The way you will perceive her will be the way she will see herself. And if she sees resentment, if she senses your sorrows that she isn’t a normal child, she will start hating herself. She will feel it. And it will stay with her till her long days are over.”

“Tiriel, what exactly in my behavior tells you that I am going to mistreat her? She is my child! She is…”

“I didn’t mean to ignore the fact she is a dhampir. You must cherish her differences. We must love her for being a dhampir. We must form this idea that it’s good she is a dhampir.”

Astarion chuckles. To be honest, he has never accepted his vampirism. It happened against his will and he would give anything to get rid of it. It is a curse. And now… his daughter is cursed as well.

“Astarion, this is important. Even the tiniest things will affect her. And we will have to deal with the consequences.”

The girl cries for her parents, and Tiriel, planting a kiss on Astarion’s forehead, returns inside.

Several hours later, when a washed and clean-clothed Alethaine is happily lying on her parents' bed and trying to make some coherent movements, Astarion finally finds enough moral strength to accept the reality.

He takes his daughter in his arms and walks up to the ceiling. The girl laughs and tries to bite him.

"Aren't you the cutest dhampir in Faerûn?" he mutters. "I can't wait to teach you how to use those fangs in battle. You will be deadly, my princess! But don't bite your mother, that's my prerogative."

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

[unluckyprime]

some sketchy hildy art bc . i would do anything for her <3

[nesperus]

part 2 of my cast gifts for rtx! beth’s pcs

matt will freddie

[ashthewaterghoul]

Ghoul kits are rarely born on the surface.

It’s just not ideal for kits to develop away from the infernal energies of the pits, and usually it leads to the parents being very protective.

So when Mountain is restlessly walking through the woods one night, he’s not entirely sure that he hears that little cry in the distance…

He finds a kit, around the size of a human toddler, maybe a little smaller. And absolutely no trace of the pit on them.

The little kit is dithering in the cold and curled up on his side.

Mountain’s heart aches as he rips off his own shirt to wrap around the tiny Ghoul.

As Mountain lifts the kit, cradling him against his chest, his soul bursts with the overwhelming need to care for the little life.

And maybe, he raises the little Ghoul by his own hand, keeping him as much a secret as he could. Earth Ghouls are very territorial and protective after all, add in the protectiveness for a kit away from Hell. And Mountain knows that if the kit’s birth parents ever tried to reclaim him, he would go APESHIT.

And maybe that Ghoul grows up to be Phantom.

So when Aether announces his retirement and Papa talks about needing a new Quint, Mountain goes against his want to keep his kit (albeit now a fully grown adult) all to himself,

“My kit knows how to play.”

I might turn this into a lil fic. Poll here if you’re interested!!

[royaltea000]

Pose practice! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

[livwritesstuff]

I definitely think that former rich kid-Steve knows how to ski, and when he and Eddie move to New England in their late twenties, he gets into it again.

Eddie, on the other hand, is not a skier. Not by any stretch of the imagination. He let Steve drag him onto the mountain once, and that was way more than enough for him.

Years later, when they have kids that they're supposed to be enrolling in sports (to become "well-rounded human beings" or whatever), Steve signs them up for skiing "just to see how it goes", and much to Eddie's chagrin, they love it, so every weekend from November through February, the Harrington family can be found at their local mountain.

Eddie joins the trip to the mountain every weekend purely for child-wrangling purposes because, seriously, three kids five-and-under is no fucking joke. His favorite part of their ski days is the conversation Steve has to have with Moe, their half-feral menace of a five-year-old, before they hit the slopes.

"Okay, no running into anyone," Steve says as he adjusts Moe's bright pink ski helmet, "Last week you were bowling people over left, right, and center."

Eddie has to hold in a snort, because it's true. The second Moe got the hang of skiing she'd made it her mission to figure out just how fast she could barrel down the mountain. To hell with the other skiers.

"Can you make some big turns today, Moe?" Steve asks, and Eddie watches Moe give her dad some major side-eye.

"Maybe," she says, her tone suggesting she wouldn't be doing any such thing.

So Moe and Steve hit the big hill and Eddie drops three-year-old Robbie off at her lesson on the bunny slope and then he gets to spend the rest of the day in the warmth of the ski lodge with baby Hazel, watching out the window as Steve makes every attempt to prevent Moe from careening straight down the mountain.

"I swear – that girl doesn't feel fear," Steve says later when he finally manages to drag Moe into the lodge for lunch, "You see it, right? She's gonna kill someone if she keeps skiing like that."

"Hey this was all you, man," Eddie shakes his head, "At least we know we can't ever sign her up for hockey."

"Jesus Christ – imagine the bloodbath that would be."

[testoster0ne]

matthew and kyle

[comic-of-dadness]

Thought I'd post our pfp + header! Since Mic will be in charge of illustrating for the comic itself, I decided to take on these!

-Mize

Edit: also! If you're able to view the web version of our blog I think it is very silly and fun!

[mj-thrush-gxn]

Family tree

[chickensauras]

I think Laois and MY personal favorite creature, The Simurgh, would get along :]