#vex goblin

[lillian-1st-maskarran-insol]

I’d hate to be on Venus

war and hate on planet venus

[sinnamonrolldice]

Gloom Dice Sets

[neo-kajatrash]

Copperwell in Undermine!

Here are his best pics so far, seen with his "friends" Oda and Vexele (who belong to my very real friends @missmingles and @/chromadraco)

[themichelvictor-blog]

Update on Briar

Briar is not as childish as Zoe, thankfully, and is adult who can drop kick me to hell, yay. I think her frenzy mode should have been more visceral and any line of interaction voice line Kled, because that just would be perfect. But pretty good for third magic powered girl going around Noxus blowing shit up. A team up with her, Annie and Rell would sell hot. Ves is still the best champion recently released.

[innumerateavian]

Two chaos goblins (Vex + Nyx) doing their best impression of helping.

[minimal-effort-name]

That chicken is not long for this world

some silly destiny doodles

[mastermindmiko]

Classes

Pairing: James Potter + reader Word count: 500 words (A short one but a cute one) Warnings: none, but lmk Summary: James is bothering you in class Hey! if you think this didn't suck, feel free to check out my masterlist

“PSSSTTT” 

I ignore the sound of the incessant nagging and focus forward, no matter how boring professor Binns is, I still want to get a good grade in this class. 

“Psssttt, darling.” He whines once more, I keep looking forward as though I was undisturbed. I really did want to smack him at all the noise though. He repeats, “Darlinggggg”

“Shush”, I say, sternly. He takes my sharp tone as an invitation to shuffle his seat closer to mine. Professor Binns starts talking about the goblin wards once more, the urge to pay attention is slipping away. 

“Sweetheart.” he says in a sing-songy way. He whines, “Please, pay attention to me, I’m feeling the withdrawal symptoms of being too far away from you. My head feels heavy, I’m nauseous- The distance between us, it’s far too much-” 

I reach out my hand to poke his thigh with my index finger, not even having to straighten my elbow. I deadpan, “Distance?” 

He pulls my finger away from his thigh and cups my hand with both his. He gives me a doe eyed expression, lips threatening into a pout. The boy sure does have a flair for the dramatics. He swoons, “Any space between us is a distance that I can’t withstand!” 

He raises his hand to his head and presses it dramatically against his forehead like a vexed lady in the Victorian era. He leans closer to me, eyes closed, revealing in the dramatic moment that he's created before popping one eye open to check my reaction. 

“I’d rather not have you so close to me if you’re feeling nauseous.” I say, pushing his head away. He pouts, “Nauseous?” 

“Ohhh, nauseous,” he realises, “I’m not feeling nauseous anymore, in fact, I feel good, but only one thing will make me feel great.” 

Cue the doe eyes once more, it’s getting harder and harder to resist him when I momentarily pick up on what Professor Binns is saying - saying the same anecdote for the third time this week. 

“Look, as soon as class is over, I’ll spend time with you. Until my next class, that is.” I relent, and he perks up, like a kid on Christmas day. He grins, and thinks, “So the faster class ends, the more time I’ll get to spend with you?” 

“Yes.” I reply, unfocused, jotting down some notes that aren’t about the time when the professor accidentally ate a worm. The thoughts sink in when I set my pen back on the desk. I panic, “Wait, James-” 

The classroom fills up with a smoke bomb, one that urges Professor Binns to dismiss us. My next class gets cancelled on accord of a pack of pixies being loose inside that class. Even Professor McGonagall had to cancel transfiguration class when someone transfigured all the chairs and tables in the class to wild animals. 

It’s a complete mystery as to what led to this series of events, but how can I ever complain when I got to spend the day with James. Just as he hoped.

[mareastrorum]

I hope that having the Mighty Nein around helps the cast help each other with the stagnant parts of Bell’s Hells character arcs.

The Hells are not good at communicating with each other about their faults. Enter Jester, Veth, and Caduceus, who absolutely will call people out on shit without shame or malice.

The Hells have a narrow view of religion. Here’s Yasha, whose god helped her break away from an apocalyptic cult; Caduceus, who was raised in a religious household and likes helping people even when they don’t share his faith; Fjord, who found peace and self-acceptance with guidance from a goddess who asks so little of him; Jester, who somehow has cleric powers from her fey best friend whom she also carries around as her weasel sometimes; and Beau, who doesn’t worship Ioun outright, but still thinks she’s not bad and seeks out a connection at times.

The Hells don’t much care about other people when they talk about what the world should be like. Here’s Caleb, who wanted to turn back time, then got Wish and could do it literally any day he pleased, but has accepted that in order to change from the boy who was willing to kill his parents, he has to be the man that won’t break the world to bring them back. Beau accepted that people can be flawed in how they love, but she couldn’t let that decide whether she or anyone else is worth love or protection; her whole job is about trying to help the people of the Empire when systems don’t care about them. Fjord handed over an eye of Uk’otoa to save Jester’s life, and then immediately got the Nein back together to defeat Uk’otoa rather than let other people suffer the consequences for his choice.

The Hells were sympathetic to the All-Minds-Burn and only really balked at the Weave Mind because there was a controlling group at the top instead of a regular hive mind. Here’s the team that destroyed Cognouza because it turns out hive minds are a great way for despots to directly control a lot of people and use them like resources. Yasha and Caleb also have profound experience with mind control, conditioning, and memory wiping.

The Hells have some serious identity issues that haven’t been addressed because there’s just no time. (Ashton was an aasimar turned into a genasi; Laudna was treated like a Vex voodoo doll by a wizard who hates Vex; Fearne was conceived and sought specifically to be an exaltant vessel for Predathos; Imogen was hidden to avoid that.) Veth was turned into a goblin by a hag, was racist against goblins for years, eventually realized that her racism came from self-hatred for traits she shared with a specific goblin tribe, and got turned back into a halfling thanks to the dedication of her friends. Fjord wrestled with determining who he was before realizing he had to choose, and that didn’t mean there was a right or wrong choice; just that he couldn’t be someone else.

Like, the Nein would be great for some targeted discussion of these points if the Hells let their judgmental bullshit shine through at any point. It’s just a question of whether (a) the cast want to and put in the effort to do that, and (b) how much time they have to spare for those conversations.

[thefirstknife]

The weekly lore book is so funny with Guardian reports. Love these two justifying why they didn't kill the enemy:

Instead of opening fire, it juked backwards and ran. I've never seen a Vex run before, and honestly, I was so surprised, I missed my shot.

+

Saw a big ol' Vex Minotaur hanging out in the shallows. It was far downrange, but it looked like it was leaking data or something from its neck. I fired before my Box Breathing kicked in, so it wasn't a kill shot.

This one got me. I sure do know what you mean:

The Minotaurs were being really defensive, staggering their shields to cover each other. If you've ever gone up against a team of Titans in Crucible, it was like that.

This one is so relatable:

The necklace Vex were wiped out and the others ripped the radiolaria cores from the bodies and took them back through the portal—or they would have, if I hadn't Thundercrashed the whole group.

Thundercrash!!!!

But outside of the funny bits, I am really looking hard at the little details. The changes in individual Vex, for example:

The thing must've caught a glint off my optics because it looked right at me.

+

It looked back at me, then it popped its own juice box and dumped itself into the radiolaria.

+

Anyway, when I moved in to make sure they were dead, I saw little model buildings in the dirt. I'm telling you, they'd been building sandcastles.

+

Right as I was about to draw, the Hobgoblin waved its hand at me. I figured it was signaling an ambush and I looked around, but it didn't have any backup. It waved again, and I gave it a little wave back—I didn't see the harm. Well, it got real excited at that and waved with both arms.

+

It was creeping through the branches and making a little noise—almost like it was laughing, if that makes sense?

There's also a strange focus on singling out Precursors and how othey don't appear to have the collars:

One of those sleek Precursor models was leading a group of normal Vex Goblins. The Goblins all had glowing collars, but the Precursor didn't.

+

Saw them clearly before I engaged: some Precursors mixed in with Nessus Vex. Nessus ones had the glowing mantles from the reports, but the Precursors didn't.

What does it all mean.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Black Out Days

Gale x F! Tav

18+ chronic pain, drug use (weed), unintentional aphrodisiac (slutweed), groping, dry humping, breast worship (f!), fingering (f!), body caging, roughness, sub/dom, tenderness

Tav's pain rising to an unbearable level, she indulges in some found herbs to find relief. But her sanctuary is laced with some heated side effects...

Masterlist

-

"Please, please I've had enough." She moaned, head resting against cool river stones.

The pain had been spiking over the base of her skull all day in excruciating arcs. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open, force her face to be impassive.

Between every horrible thing that had been happening to them, her chronic pain was her own burden to bear. She hadn't told anyone besides Halsin, the sweet man helped her as much as he could with what was available.

Nothing made her feel worse than being a burden, so she trudged on in silence. Still the leader they needed. Gods only know how she ended up in that position in the first place.

Crouching at the riverside, she gripped at slick stones, whimpering. Finally letting go of her lovingly crafted mask of health. Wanting to slam her insolent head into the earth, but knew that would offer no relief.

Scrambling hands reached into her pack. At the goblin camp, she had pocketed a jar of promising looking herbs.

She brought the unsealed jar to her nose.

Musky, sweet, near sulphuric.

Yes, praise the Gods. Halfling weed.

Packing Halsins borrowed pipe, she leaned back on haunches, the new movement making her stomach spin threateningly. If she could stretch this supply out it could sustain her, at least until she could slip into to an apothecary.

Flicking her fingers, she brought a small flame to the bowl. Breathing in slowly.

As soon as the smoke met her lungs, a spreading warmth caressed up the back of her spine. Gentle fingers splaying up, cradling the base of her skull. The agony dulling into a veiled hissing. Still crouched in the grass, but far from where she sat.

Tears of relief fell down her face. Gods, she could breath again. Body pulled down deliciously yet so much lighter.

She sighed, leaning her head back. Taking a moment to get lost in the crisp night air, the sounds of moving water, insects calling for one another in the dark. Finally able to perceive more than her anguish.

Standing, she headed back towards the orange point of their campfire. Body awash in calm.

As she re-entered their little world a new sensation sidled up to her spreaded peace.

A soothing heat slipped down her front, pressing an insistent touch inside of her pelvis.

Oh.

Kneeling near the campfire, she examined the jar more thoroughly. Lifting the bottom, she found a small scuffed label written in scratchy hand.

Halfing Weed; Succubus Spittle 5%

Hissing a breath between her teeth, she closed her eyes in defeat. Fucking goblins.

Slick already pooling between her legs, she groaned in frustration. Of course her savior came with a demand.

Already, she knew this was not nearly enough to deter her from the alternative. But it didn't make it any less vexing.

Hips already rocking against nothing, she was infinitely thankful that the camp had turned in for the night. Even Astarion off hunting for a few hours, at least.

Especially him, she knew he had the skills she needed in this moment. But she didn't want to do that to him. From one veiled mask to another, she could tell he didn't want her that way.

Dizzy with heat, she rose to head to her tent. More than willing to deal with this desire alone. She had a sure hand and a vivid imagination, it would be an easy burden to bear.

Her infatuation with the wizard could be tonight's theater of the mind. Wide shoulders, soft brown eyes, hair that brushed against his clavicle. The veins in his forearms when he pushed up his sleeves, large hands twisting and pulling with blue magic.

She moaned, and clapped her hand over her mouth.

Reign yourself in, Tav. Gods.

As if summoning him from her salacious imagination, he emerged from his tent.

Drowsily greeting her, he wandered towards the water pump, kneeling next to it. Pulling the lever, he opened his mouth and started swallowing what of the divulge of water he could catch.

She stood stock still, watching this innocuous moment like a wolf watches a rabbit. The desire pooled in her pelvis boiling over.

Wiping his mouth, he rose back to feet. Seeming to fully see her then.

"Tav, you alright? You seem a little flushed, in a haunted type of way."

Gods forgive her for what she was about to do.

Taking his hand, she wordlessly pulled him into his tent.

"What-" Her body cut him off, pressing hard into his.

Running her hands up his taut back, she buried her face into his neck. The curve of his waist bending up into shoulders making her moan softly.

He was so warm, so solid against her pushing. Smelling of old books and leather. Her hand rising to tangle into his hair, tugging gently.

His body seemed to go weak then, gripping onto her for support.

"Tav, Gods..." He shivered.

His voice bringing her back to herself for a moment, she made to pull away. But his hands held her anchor to him.

"Please, don't stop." He pleaded.

Like a flint sparking, she dove back in. Hips fluid and insistent against his. Gathering his sleep shirt in her demanding hands. Pulling his head back to release his neck to her. Pulsing, biting, suckling into the soft flesh.

The herb removing all inhibition, she was a growling animal against him. Hands pinning and pulling, mouth hungry and salivating.

He fell to knees, and she followed him down. Straddling over his lap, licking an obscene line up his panting throat.

His length already a pillar pushing against her. Hands catching her writhing hips, pulling them flush to him.

Her head fell back then, the friction Gods sent. The slick already pooled in her underclothes welcoming him.

Something seemed to snap in him.

His hands wrenched her sleep shirt over her shoulders. Caging over her body, pushing her down on his bedroll.

"Yes," She moaned, falling open for him.

His mouth pushed into hers, gripping the back of her head.

The heat coming off of him was making her head spin. Intoxicating her body into liquid, crashing against him in waves. All smothered soft calls and silent demanding mouths.

Tangling into him like it was all she knew. All her body could know was getting as close as she could without being inside.

He hitched her leg up over his hip and ground down hard. Groaning in the back of his throat. Chest lit up purple, eyes glowing.

Concern arced through her stifling heat.

She cupped the sides of his face, bringing his eyes to hers.

The question in her eyes reached him. Hips still pistoning, he nodded.

"Please, I want to."

"Then take what you want." She gasped out, leading his head down.

He dove on her breast, licking her hard tip into his warm mouth.

"Fuck," She hissed, back arching.

She tried to reach for his sleep pants but his hand caught her wrist, forcing it above her head.

Pushing her underclothes down her hips, he rubbed hard against her clit. Blurring his hand.

Choking out a moan, she writhed helplessly. His body keeping her pinned and open. Splayed fully against him.

His mouth switched sides, taking up her soft untouched breast. The slurping suckle his tongue pulled against her peak making her mewl.

"Please, Gale. Inside." She pleaded, bucking her hips as much as his hold would allow.

He pushed two fingers inside her, moan muffled against her flesh.

"You're so wet," He groaned.

"You. All you." She moaned, sentences and their structures utterly lost.

But those words must have been more than enough. His fingers began slamming inside her, hooking towards her navel.

Her head fell back, gripping his head to her breast. The force of his fingers rocking her back and forth.

He was the tide and she a ship, unanchored and tossing through the waves.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She whined as the pressure in her pelvis tilted up, threatening collapse.

He pulled her engorged peak between his teeth and she was thrown overboard.

Her legs arched up, clamping around his hips. Back bending, the force of the pleasure striking through her was near agony. Completely stealing her voice away, only gasping out choking silent cries. The herbs making her reach new heights, unwinding like a tapestry pulled. Clenching hard enough around his fingers to make him groan.

She collapsed under him, head lolling. Eyes glazed and rolling.

He pulled his fingers from her, licking them clean. Leaning down to nuzzle into her neck, his beard tickling her.

"You didn't-" She started weakly.

"With the state of the orb, I think it's in all of our best interests if I obstained."

"Besides," He hummed, kissing under her jaw. "Your pleasure has more than sustained me."

"Though I am curious, what brought on this most welcome intrusion?"

She hesitated. Not wanting another person, especially him, who has so much to hurdle over already, to worry about her.

"It's this... pain I have. I found some soothing herbs and they helped. A lot actually. But with other effects."

She pulled the small jar from her strewn trousers, handing it to him.

Immediately he flipped it over to examine the bottom, and she groaned in embarrassment.

"See, that's exactly what I didn't do."

Grabbing for her shirt she instead landed on his, pulling it over her head.

He smiled at her, eyes lit up with appreciative glint.

"Ah, of course it looks better on you."

"Cozy." She sighed, the velvet material warming her through. Sleeves swallowing her hands.

He reached inside her pocket and retrieved the pipe, sparking up his fingers and bringing it to his lips.

Seeing her shock, he smiled.

"You're not the only one fighting pain." He knocked his knuckles on the burned circle in his chest.

"Besides, you seemed to be in a peaceful state. I'd like to meet you there, if you'd allow me."

"Deal." She smiled, sliding on knees to sidle up close to him again. "But only if you let me stay the night."

"Oh, you drive a hard bargain." He smiled at her, scrunching up his nose in that playful way that made her heart gallop.

As soon as he breathed in, she held his chin in her fingers. Pulling his mouth to hers, breathing in the smoke as it left him.

Starting to relax, he pulled her down with him. Sighing contently as she snuggled into him.

"Oh, careful. I could get very used to this."

~

[makoredeyes]

~Cavorting~

Damien's a grouchy bastard but boy he likes the skimmers. The somewhat beefier weight of the Xurfboard was a delight worth celebrating with some play out on the iceflats on Europa

BONUS

RIP that Goblin. SOME Vex were harmed in the making of these images XD XD XD

[sunstone-smiles]

There's No Working On Winter's Crest!

Author’s note: Happy Holidays everyone! Merry Critmas because a Critical Role fic is here! I absolutely love how this fic turned out and it might be one of my new favorites that I've written. This fic is part of the @squealing-santa event and was made for wrestling!anon! 🎁 Thank you @squealing-santa / @cantsaythetword for all your hard work as host this year! Now on to the fic! Enjoy!

Series: Critical Role (Campaign 1) 

Characters: Percy, Vex, Vax, (and guest starring the Vox Machina crew and Cassandra)

Provided prompts:  “Forever love ‘character A doesn’t think they’re ticklish; character B proves them wrong’” / “…also love the Percy/Vex/Vax combo of ‘Vex & Vax are chaos goblins and Percy is wayyy too serious.’”

Word count: 5,328

Summary: Percival claims he has work to do when the rest of Vox Machina is decorating the castle of Whitestone for Winter’s Crest. Vex and Vax volunteer to persuade (or annoy) him until he caves in; however, their conversation skews slightly off topic when Percy has an unexpected, jumpy reaction to a poke Vax delivered when he was emphasizing his words.

---

The Winter’s Crest festival is just around the corner as citizens across Tal’Dorei prepare for the festivities, especially in the Kingdom of Whitestone. Snow drifts gently to the surface of the walkways and powders the roofs of homes in a coat of white that brings a literal meaning to the name Whitestone. Townsfolk are dressed in thick furs and winter resistant outfits to decorate the city. They put up strings of magic lights hanging across the streets, ribbons adorning homes and merchant stalls, and other handcrafted decorations—like snowflakes and snow-themed creatures that many of the children make—are displayed on the front doors of homes. The Sun Tree, the centerpiece of the Kingdom, has also been dressed with lights and ornaments for the festivities.

The castle of Whitestone is no different. Inside, currently lining the halls and the main foyer of the castle, the heroic group members of Vox Machina are in the process of putting up the decorations. Though unfinished, the area is already teeming with wintery accessories. Like the rest of the town, snowflakes are plastered on the walls or dangling on strings, small bulbs of magic infused light arcs across the edges of the roof, and fluffy cotton is clumped together to line the corners of the walls; it makes the room look like a portrait of a snowfall that breached inside the castle’s halls.

Cassandra, the current youngest heir of Whitestone, enters the wintery landscape. She gasps, glancing about the room with sparkling eyes like a child witnessing the beautiful display of a real snowfall.

“I love what you’ve done with the place, Vox Machina. It looks lovely,” Cassandra says as her sight indulges in every bit of her surroundings.

Keyleth, with a hand-made parchment snowflake in her hands, pipes up beside her. “Thanks! We saw that the rest of Whitestone was decorating, so why not give the inside of the castle the same treatment? At least to get everyone in the spirit of the Winter’s Crest festival.”

Cassandra chuckles. “I don’t disagree. I knew you would all be decorating, but this is already mesmerizing.”

“You can thank me for that,” Scanlan points to himself, speaking with pride. He’s standing on Trinket’s back and using the bear as a platform to reach higher ground. “I know a thing or two about preparing a room for special occasions,” Scanlan boasts. Trinket growls and shakes under his feet in response, nearly causing Scanlan to tip over.

Cassandra giggles again. Glancing about the room, she sees Keyleth choosing a new spot for her parchment snowflake, Vex and Vax stringing colorful orbs together, Pike standing on Grog’s shoulder as they both focus their decorations on the same wall, and Scanlan glaring at Trinket after the bear’s attempt to knock him off. Everyone has given themselves a project to add on to their winter scene. But, hold on… Where’s–

“Wait a minute, where’s Percival?” Cassandra asks, seeing no sign of her brother.

Vex answers. “Percy said that he had more important things to do,” she draws out her words sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the thought of the man’s decision. “If you ask me, I think he’s just being stubborn.”

Vax glances up towards the hallway behind Cassandra. He nudges his twin in the shoulder. “Well, look who decided to show up at the right time,” Vax gestures his head in the direction of the hallway. 

Vex and Cassandra turn. They see Percy walking across the foyer in their direction. He’s carrying a small wooden crate in his hands and his eyes are glancing inside of the box’s contents as he heads towards the other end of the room.

“Percy! There you are!” Cassandra calls his name as he passes by her. “Why aren’t you decorating with everyone else? I’m about to join them as well.”

Percy stops walking to properly speak with his sister. He shifts the box in his hands to get a better grip. “Because Cass, I have a lot of work to do. You all keep on decorating. I’ll join you later if there’s time.”

Vex barks out a laugh. “By the time you’re done tinkering, darling, the whole inside and outside of the castle will be finished.”

Percy narrows his eyes at the ranger’s claim, but pays it no mind as Cassandra pulls his attention with her own concerns. 

“But Percy, this is a time for joy and relaxation. What are you building that’s so important—” Cassandra places a hand on the box to sneak a peek inside. Percy yanks the box to the side and tears it from her view.

“That is none of your business, Cass. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some work that needs to be done.” Percy states before walking away and leaving towards his original destination.

Cassandra, Vex, and Vax watch him exit in silence as his form disappears into the hall and behind the palace walls.

Cassandra crosses her arms and grumbles. A little bit of her childish side shows despite how mature she usually holds herself. 

“You’re right, Vex,” she says while staring at the empty hallway. “My brother is a great, big, stubborn, pain in the–”

“A donkey! I made a donkey!” Grog exclaims from across the room while excitedly showing Pike his hand-made snowflake donkey.

“Nice, Buddies!” Pike complements from her spot on his shoulder.

Cassandra throws her hands down to her side with a huff and smooths out her dress. “You know what? I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.” She daintily stomps a few steps forward.

“Hold on there, Cassandra,” Vex places an arm out to stop her, smiling. “Allow Vax and I to deal with Percy. We know how to be more than enough of an annoyance in order for him to cave in.”

Vax leans over his twin’s shoulder. “Plus, he might put up more of a fight if it’s against his sister,” Vax smirks. Vex responds with a playful elbow to his stomach.

“You do have a point,” Cassandra concedes with a chuckle. “Alright then, I’m entrusting this task to you. Bring him out here and let’s show him how to be in the ‘proper’ Winter’s Crest spirit. I’ll check in a little later to see how things are going.”

“Will do, Cassandra,” Vex places their string of ornaments down with Vax and winks at the young de Rolo.

“We’re on it,” Vax says while already beginning to walk backwards. Vex joins him and they both make their way towards Percy’s direction.

***

Through the marble halls of polished white, Percy’s footsteps and the occasional rustle from his box of materials keeps him company. He passes by a few bedroom doors of his allies before he reaches his own room. As he repositions the wooden crate into one arm to free one of his hands, a third arm suddenly slings over his shoulders.

“Hey there, de Rolo!” Vax exclaims by his side. Percy jumps.

“Vax! Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Percy adjusts his glasses. Over Vax’s shoulder, he sees Vex walking up to join them.

“Sorry, friend. Hard not to when that’s your speciality as a rogue,” Vax shrugs one arm while the other remains around Percy.

“And don’t forget about me,” Vex leans her arm on Percy’s unoccupied shoulder and smiles.

Percy sighs between the two twins barricading him at his sides. “If you’ve come to convince me to decorate with you all, the answer is no,” Percy opens the door to his quarters. He enters, immediately heading straight towards his desk and leaving the twins behind. He places the crate on the surface of his desk with a clatter from the materials inside. 

Vax leans a hand against the doorframe. “Well, the whole point of convincing is to change that answer to yes,” the rogue persists. He watches as Percy reaches into the crate and pulls out onto his desk golden-colored gears, tinkering tools, and a small chest lined in purple velvet that has a similar shape and size of a box that could hold jewelry.

“Exactly,” Vex agrees with her brother. “And I think we’re both pretty skilled when it comes to our tactics of persuasion.”

Vax crosses his arms and switches to leaning his back against the doorframe. “You have struck quite a few bargains here and there, sister.”

“I wouldn’t say a lot, just when it was necessary. Like when I dropped the cost of that book that was thirty-five gold pieces down to twenty-five.”

“Twenty-five? I thought it was thirty?” Vax steps further into the room.

“No. That seems too low of a bargain for me. I think it was twenty-five.” Vex pauses. “Or maybe we met in the middle, like around twenty-seven?”

Percy lets out a long, irritated sigh. Without even looking at the twins, he says, “You’re not going to leave until I say ‘yes’, are you?”

“Ah, looks like Percival’s catching on,” Vax wraps an arm around the noble’s shoulder again, smirking at him. Percy crosses his arms.

The noble shakes his head with an eye roll to the side. “I know this isn’t going to work, but I’m going to try it anyway—is there any chance that you’ll leave me alone and let me work in peace?”

Vex leans on his desk. “Ha! Not a chance.”

“Thought so…” he grumbles.

“You see, Freddy,” Vax says. “You, my friend,” he gently pokes Percy in the side and leaves his finger pointing at him, “need to get into the holiday spirit. So stop. Being. Stubborn!” Vax delivers a poke for each of his final three words, adding slightly more pressure to the third poke for emphasis.

“Aah!” Percy jumps away from the third jab. “Vax! What was that for?” Percy rubs the spot on his side.

Vax puts his hands up to prove his innocence. “Whoa. Sorry, de Rolo. I didn’t think you would be so sensitive. Are you ticklish, maybe?” Vax genuinely asks for clarification; however, a slight hint of amusement curls its way into his voice.

Percy adjusts his vest. “Unfortunately for you and what you’re thinking about, no, I am not ticklish.” Percy flicks his eyes to the side, “Not anymore, at least. You surprised me is all.”

Vex, intrigued by his words, backtracks to his initial response. “So, you were ticklish once before?”

“A long time ago, sure. Cassandra would be an absolute menace with it,” Percy answers. “But I grew out of it,” he looks towards his desk.

The ranger listens to Percy’s words and watches his expression intently, trying to gain any insight towards his claims. She can tell that he’s speaking the truth, as far as he knows. Though, there are traces of uncertainty when Percy glanced away during his last sentence.

“Do you know that for a fact?” Vex exposes the brief blunder in Percy’s words.

The noble freezes. That got his attention.

“Well… I assume so,” Percy replies.

Vax smirks, catching on to his sister’s plan. “Ahh, so it seems Percival’s evidence is outdated.” 

“Meaning that the answer is still unknown,” Vex joins in with a smirk of her own. “You’re a man of science, right Percy? Let’s test our theory.” She wiggles her fingers at him.

Percy returns a glare in Vex’s direction, unfazed by her attempt to taunt him. “I already told you, I’m not ticklish. But you know what? I’ll humor you.” He turns to his work and resumes speaking over his shoulder, “Go ahead and try to tickle me because you won't get the reaction you’re expecting. And once you try, you have to leave me alone to work. Do we have a deal?”

The eyes of the twins widen. They glance at one another with silent expressions of shock before looking back at Percy.

“Did my ears deceive me or is Percy actually giving us permission to tickle him?” Vex gasps.

“We do have to agree to his conditions…” Vax ponders. “But, what the hell? We can’t let this opportunity go to waste.”

The twins excitedly step up to both of his sides as Percy continues his tinkering.

“So, where should we start? There’s so many spots to choose from!” Vex teases like she’s a tourist exploring a new town.

Percy sighs again from their antics, already regretting his decision to let them even try. “Just pick one and move on,” he says without even taking his eyes off his work.

“Well, poking his side got a reaction out of him in the first place. Let’s try there,” Vax suggests to his sister. The rouge presses his fingers into one of Percy’s sides, followed by a gentle wiggling. Percy jolts and bangs into his desk, though more so from the aspect of surprise rather than the attempt at tickling. With a quiet grumble, the noble regains his composure. He has no reaction when Vex presses her fingers into his other side, since he was expecting the attempt this time. He returns his focus towards his tinkering, as if the twins are nothing more than an itch that can be ignored.

For (barely even) a second, that is. Until the corner of his mouth suddenly twitches upwards. 

Percy neutralizes his expression, but every time he tries to refocus, his mouth pops back up into a quivering smile. His fingers subtly flinch as he works. The sensation at his sides grows more and more tingly. There’s a bubbly pressure building in his throat that’s slowly rising like steam in a tea kettle.

It occurs to Percy that, despite his arguments, he is, most definitely, still ticklish.

Percy, being as inconspicuous as he can, leans his head closer to his chest and shoulder to hide his wobbly expression. His arms nearly fall to his sides as a reflex of protection, but he attempts to stay as casual as possible to conceal his ticklishness from the twins.

“Are you sure you’re not ticklish, Percy?” Vax tilts his head with a smirk.

“Because for someone who’s not ticklish, you sure are trembling a lot,” Vex says, having a keen eye for the subtle shifts in his movements.

“It’s just…difficult to concentrate!” Percy steadies his words so he doesn’t stutter. However, one of the twins spiders their fingers up to his ribs, causing Percy to slam a hand on his desk so he doesn’t completely collapse forward. There’s another surge of pressure in his chest. His smile wobbles even higher like it’s a ship being elevated by a wave in a storm. Percy’s in big trouble now.

“Really? Does concentrating involve slamming a hand on your desk and nearly folding yourself in two?” Vex knowingly questions, confirming to Percy that it was her who experimented with a new spot towards his ribs.

“Y-yes! It does!” Percy responds, letting a stutter slip.

“Mmhm,” Vex hums as she reads him.

Technically, it’s not a lie. He really is concentrating…on not bursting out into laughter right in front of the twins. He bites his lip and curls his head closer to his chest and shoulder. He’ll never hear the end of it if he ends up letting the half-elfs hear a giggle or two slip. If he holds out just a little longer, they’ll give up and stop. Right?

“Let’s face it, Vex. Maybe he really isn’t ticklish anymore,” Vax states, although there’s a teasing demeanor that drips from his voice like the poison from one of his daggers when he’s about to strike. Vax slows his fingers down to a stop, giving Percy the slightest sliver of hope that he could prevail.

…Oh, who is he kidding? These twins don’t give up until they get what they came for.

Vax quickly scribbles his fingers into Percy’s stomach using a sneak attack. Although Percy holds back his giggles, a few airy snickers slip from the gunslinger before a loud snort emanates from his person like the echoing blast of an explosive shot. 

Percy immediately slaps a hand across his mouth. Time feels like it stops. A moment of dead silence passes as Percy senses his imminent doom approaching. He can already feel their grins searing a mark at the back of his head.

To his better judgement, Percy lowers his hand and slowly turns his head around. His back hits against his desk when he’s met with the two gleaming grins of the twins.

“Gotcha.” Vax smirks.

“Oh no–” Percy’s eyes are wide behind his glasses. Without further hesitation, the twins lunge at him. Percy lets out a startled scream. He clamps his hands to his sides as the half-elven twins take advantage at poking, tweeking, and scribbling the open spaces of his torso. Percy shimmies between them, protesting and shoving at the two through an occasional bark of laughter when one of the twins gets in a good hit; nevertheless, he still holds back his laughter from fully flooding into the room.

“Percy, you’re so squirmy!” Vex smiles as she tries to get a hit on his nimble form.  

“What else did you expect?!” Percy’s words trail with a giggle as he pushes Vex out of the way and tries to run, but Vax throws his arms around Percy’s waist and tugs him back. 

“He’s a fighter alright!” Vax says as Percy kicks and squirms in his grasp. The noble tries to push down on Vax’s arms and pull himself out of his hold, but Vax tugs his friend back towards him.

With his friend grappled, Vax wiggles his fingers into Percy’s sides, resulting in a surprised giggle from Percy. The gunslinger reels in his laughter, toning it down to a stream of snickers so he doesn’t allow the twins to hear the robust laughter their ears desire from his stubborn self. 

Percy shakes his head. “Noho! I’m not ticklish!” he shouts as an impulsive reaction, hearing the giggle in his own words. He facepalms to hide his flustered features and the embarrassment that comes with a critical failure of a deception attempt behind his hand.

“Gods, I knew you were stubborn but that is just flat out denial,” Vax smiles over his shoulder.

“Come on Percy. There’s no need to hide it any more, so cough up that laughter!” Vex darts her hands towards Percy’s ribs. Percy drops his arms to his sides with a yelp that’s finally followed by a plethora of unrestrained, wheezy giggles pouring out of the noble who refused to smile just a few minutes ago. 

“Ah, there it is,” Vex smiles.

Percy wiggles in Vax’s hold and buries his face in his shoulder for a moment, too overwhelmed to think of a snarky comeback. He forgets what to do with his hands after not being tickled for so long, but when Vax gives a quick squeeze to his side, Percy instantly remembers and latches on to the rouge’s wrists. He pries Vax’s hands from him and holds them hostage from his sides, but Vex suddenly scribbles her fingers at Percy’s stomach, which sends the gunslinger with another shriek of giggles stumbling away from his desk and collapsing forward to the floor. 

“Aaand down he goes,” Vax grins.

Percy lifts himself on his arms. He glances up and sees the open door for freedom, but he also sees Vex dash in front of him to block the exit. As the ranger moves her hands towards him, he springs to sit on his knees and wrestles Vex’s approaching hands, protesting, “Vex, no! No!” 

Percy tilts back to avoid her, allowing Vex the momentum she needs to grab his wrists and shove him over onto his back. Then, she immediately buries her scribbly hands into his torso, causing Percy to resume his giggling. (He should have expected Vex, the ranger with a bear as a companion, to have the advantage when it comes to anything like bear wrestling.) Vax soon rushes over and joins her at Percy’s other side.

“Now, returning to the topic at hand, why won't you decorate with us Percy?” Vex asks as she maneuvers her hands around Percy’s flailing limbs to scratch around his belly, occasionally having to pull away then release his wrist for a few moments to get a good scribble in.

“Hohohow many times dohoho I hahahave to say it! I’m wohohorking!” Percy exclaims while wiggling from left to right. He curls to the side with an enormous smile when Vax gets a scribble at his ribs. 

“Well, you’re not getting much work done like this,” Vax observes as he scratches at Percy’s other pair of ribs and corresponding underarm, making Percy curl up in his giggly ball even tighter.

“Vax has a point, Percy,” Vex agrees. “Either you spend your time decorating with us, or you spend it giggling on the floor. The choice is yours,” she teases. 

Just then, a delicate hand grips the doorframe. Cassandra peeks in. The confusion she first had on her face turns into an understanding smile once she sees her brother laughing with assistance from Vex and Vax. The cheerful sound of the room refreshes her with memories of their childhood, making her smile just an extra bit wider.

Cassandra repositions herself to lean back on the doorframe. “So, how’s the persuasion going?” she raises her voice so it’s heard over Percy’s peels of laughter.

Vex and Vax turn and see Cassandra over their shoulders. They share a smile with her, then return their attention to tickling Percy.

“He’s still being stubborn, as expected, but I think we’re making progress,” Vex scribbles a hand at Percy’s side to prove her point. Percy kicks out his legs with another cluster of giggles.

Cassandra also giggles at the scene. “Percival, I didn’t know you were still ticklish.”

“Neither did he a few minutes ago,” Vax replies for him. 

“Cahahahass! Hehehelp me!” Percy reaches a hand out to her before snapping it back down to for protection against Vax’s hand wiggling at his ribs.

Cassandra glances to the roof and taps her chin. “Hmm. Should I? I am on the side who wants you to come decorate with us…”

“If it helps you decide easier, Cassandra, Percy called you a menace earlier,” Vex mentions.

“Nohoho! I–” Percy shouts before he’s cut off by his own intrusion of laughter. 

“Really?” Cass puts her hands on her hips, playfully taking offense at the remark.

“Yep, a big, mean, menace of a sister. I heard him say it myself,” Vax attests. 

“Percy, did you call me a menace?” Cassandra asks with a lighthearted inflection.

“Nohoho! I mean, yes! But it wahahahas in a different context!” Percy admits. 

“I see. Well, I suppose I will help then.” Cassandra turns her attention to the twins. She places a hand to the side of her mouth like she was about to whisper a secret to them. “Vex. Vax. Make sure to get his hips. That was a spot that always got him laughing up a storm.”

“Whahahat?!” Percy shouts. It only then occurs to him the severity of Cassandra’s statement as the memory of his own ticklishness comes rushing back to him.

“Noted,” Vax nods.

“Cahahass, NO!” Percy tries to sit himself up like he’s about to lunge at Cassandra, but the noble is easily shoved back down to the floor by Vex and Vax.

Cassandra leans on the back of her foot like she’s about to sprint. She speeds through her next words, “Well, I’ll take my leave now. Good luck! I’ll see you out there decorating! Bye!” She springs forward and disappears behind the door frame, as if she is running away before she can get into any more ‘trouble’ with Percy; it’s another reminder of her child-like side coming out despite the mature part she plays.

“Cassandrahaha!” Percy yells towards the empty hallway as if he was cursing her name to the gods.

“Well, you heard her,” Vex says. “Let’s try it!”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” Percy objects. He flails his arms to shove and swat away the hands of the twins. Despite his efforts, the half-elven siblings are able to find an opening to push his hands aside and allow Vex to give a squeeze to his hips.

Percy curls forwards with a giggly screech before he crashes back to the floor with an outpouring of laughter. His laugh sounds like a squawking crow that’s learned how to chortle with an additional wheeze. But his laugh is far from being annoying; it’s adorable. His head tilts back and he turns it to the side as he pushes and shoves at the hands latched and digging at his hips, and the other set scribbling at his middle. 

“Wow, Cassandra wasn’t kidding,” Vax smiles, “His laughter really does spike there.” 

“Vehehex! Vahahax! Thahahat tickles!!!” Percy wheezes in a higher pitch, his mind too flooded with his own giggly reaction to think before he just stated the obvious.

“Really?” Vex remarks sarcastically. “Well, at least you’re admitting it now.”

“Sounds like we’re starting to knock some sense into him,” Vax says to his sister. He looks down at his giggling friend, “See, Freddy? Isn’t this so much more fun than working alone in your room all day?”

“I agree, Vax,” Vex says. “I mean, what is so important that you can’t leave your room to decorate and spend some time with us?” Vex teases with a rhetorical question.

“I was making a gift!” Percy shouts.

The twins immediately halt the momentum of their hands. Vex and Vax look at one another in stunned silence. They glance back to their friend, who’s steadying his breathing after expelling his remaining giggles.

“A gift?” Vex asks; her voice leans forward with a sense of curiosity.

The noble takes in a few more breaths of air. “Yes…”

Vex’s expression lifts to one of unbridled elation and she gasps as if she was just given the most exciting news. 

“Who is it for? Is it for me? Tell me! Tell me!” Vex questions him like a giddy child. Vex gives a quick scribble to Percy’s stomach. Percy jolts with another giggle and smacks her hand away. 

“It’s not for you! It’s for Cass,” Percy reveals. “Your gift is already finished.”

Vex shows him a soft, thankful smile.

“Cass? That same Cassandra that you called a menace earlier?” Vax jokes.

Percy rolls his eyes. “Yes, that same Cassandra, who I unfortunately love and care for. If you let me up, I’ll show you the gift.”

The twins each extend a hand out to Percy. They pull him to his feet, and he returns a silent ‘thanks’ to them. He straightens his vest and shirt from their scuffle, then walks towards his desk. When there, he places his hand on the velvet chest.

“This is what I was making for her.” Percy opens the lid. Inside, a small, metal figure pops up—a woman with long bronze hair in a ballroom dress designed for dancing. Reflective glass is the background for her stage as she waltzes from side to side on her platform in the middle of the box, occasionally performing graceful twirls. Her movements are paired with the rhythmic chimes of a bell that plays a lullaby-like version of the jolly Winter’s Crest Festival theme.

“It’s a music box,” Percy finally says.

Vex places her hands on her heart. “Oh, Percy. It’s beautiful.”

Vax wraps a gentle arm around Vex, pulling her close to him. “Cassandra is going to love it.”

“Promise me you wont tell her?” Percy glances at his friends.

“Of course, darling,” Vex nods. “We wouldn’t want to ruin a surprise like this.”

Percy closes the lid. “Now you know why I declined the offer to decorate with you all, and why I was so adamant about working. So if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get back to it.”

Vex nods again. “I understand, Percy. We’re not going to force you, especially since this is the reason.” Her voice is soft. It’s a drastic change from the teasing Vex that he heard just a few minutes ago. “But, we would still love it if you could come out there with us, if you get a moment.”

“Yeah, despite how much of a pain you can be, we enjoy your company,” Vax shows a soft smile.

“Vex…” Percy’s voice sighs ‘I can’t’ when his words don’t.

Vex continues, “All I’m saying is that I already know that you put a lot of time into Cassandra’s gift, and towards your other gifts, I can only assume.” She puts a hand on his shoulder. “We’re grateful of course, but I know that she, as well as all of us, would also be grateful if you could eventually take a short break and provide us with the gift of your presence.” Vex ends her speech with a soft smile. Percy lifts his head, allowing him and Vex to exchange a sympathetic glance. After their eyes speak their thoughts, Vex slides her hand off his shoulder, and she rejoins Vax. The twins make their way to the door.

Percy looks away from them and hovers over his desk. His peripheral vision shows the music box on one side, and Vex and Vax’s shadows disappearing from his sight on the other. He lays his hand on the music box. His thumb glides over the velvet material. He rubs it, staying silent amongst the clatter of gears turning in his mind.

Now Percy has quiet time to work on his gift—that’s what he wanted in the first place. It was a choice to either sacrifice time with his loved ones, or sacrifice time for his loved ones. They’ll understand his decision. Vex and Vax already do.

He looks once more at the music box. He thinks about Cassandra, Vex’s words, and the rest of his family just down the hall. He wants them to be happy. So does he.

Vex was right. She is pretty skilled in persuasion.

A long sigh, like he was expelling all the air from his lungs, releases from Percy. “Alright.” He pauses, relieved by the comfort that he’s making a good choice. “I’ll come.”

Vex and Vax turn around. “You will?” Vex’s eyes twinkle. “Oh, that’s wonderful, Percy!” She runs to him and grabs his arm. “Come on! Let’s not keep everyone waiting!” she starts tugging him from his desk.

“Vex, hold on!” Percy pulls against her and starts wildly placing some of the parts on his desk back into the wooden crate. Vex, too excited to wait, pulls him back and straight out the door before he can finish. Vax strolls right behind with a big, beaming smile on his face.

What remains scattered on the desk is a couple of the golden-colored gears, and the velvet music box resting safely beside, like a flower patiently waiting for rain to bloom. It’ll be right where he left it when he returns. 

***

When Vex and Vax tug him into the room with an announcement, everyone’s smile grows just a little bit wider than it was before. Grog, Pike, and Keyleth even happen to call out his name in unison like a gleeful cheer. It’s a warm welcome within their wintery landscape. 

Cassandra walks up to him, holding two hand-crafted snowflakes. “Glad you could join us, brother,” she says with a thankful smile and hands him one of the snowflakes.

Percy nods. A relaxed smile makes its way onto his features like he is getting cozy near a fireplace. He takes the parchment snowflake, then follows Cassandra to help with the most current wall being adorned by the Winter’s Crest spirit.

Over the course of their decorative snowstorm, lively conversation is held and some tea is brewed and passed around like the group is having their own little holiday party. Laughs are shared, memories are made when Trinket is dolled up in wintery decorations like a tree (to the bear’s reluctance), and their time together is priceless. 

Time is a gift that can’t be wrapped and tinkered with, but it can be cherished as one all the same.

[themichelvictor-blog]

VEX POSTING

Man, I adore Vex, she is the only part of Ruination event that I cared about and her existence made LOL better for me.

RIOT, WHERE THE VEX AND VEIGAR TEAM UP. THEIR NAMES START THE SAME AND BOTH ARE TIED TO DARK MAGIC. For Universe sake, Veigar story kind of expands on observation Vex made in her origin. I will literally buy on the first day.

[innumerateavian]

Four little goblins all tuckered out from their rampaging 🐀❤️ (left to right : Tiamat, Azura, Nyx all resting on Vex )

[tadpole-apocalypse]

I wrote a little something! Yes I’m sure the title is probably overused. It just worked for this scenario.

***

Careful, I Bite [AO3 link]

Astarion gets some blood and puts his plan in motion. A rewrite of his proposition scene to fit my narrative.

Pairing: Astarion x Morgan (female human tav)

Rating: M for sexy blood drinking

Tags: vampire bites, detailed descriptions of blood and the inherent eroticism, high elf bullshit, human tav, Gale slander, emotional manipulation, fangs, licking, astarion pov

***

They had tents now, at the campsite near the blighted village. After days of laying out in the open around the fire like a pack of wild beasts, any sort of shelter from the elements was a luxury in this filthy wilderness. All thanks to their weird little minions, of which the gith has taken complete charge of. She has put the hirelings to work; hauling supplies, tending the cookfire, patrolling for threats, as well as taking care of all the menial tasks around camp Astarion hated doing himself, like setting up tents. She even disciplined one when it performed a task that didn’t meet her exacting standards, which was just delightful to watch!

Morgan’s tent was erected on the outskirts of camp and further from the others, as they all learned her wild magic is capable of surging in her sleep when illusory clones of herself floated all around camp, exploding on whatever they bumped into. Everyone agreed it would be better if she kept her tent far from the others.

It makes it easier to discreetly slip inside, this far away from the light of the campfire. He finds her awake, sitting cross legged on her bedroll with a small wisp of light to illuminate the cramped tent. It casts harsh shadows on her blunt features that do no favors for the scars and blemishes marring her face. Ah well, she wasn’t entirely unfortunate looking for human; he’d certainly pulled far worse in his time.

Her mismatched eyes flick up to meet him when he enters, acknowledging his entry before she returns to her task of trimming the ends of her braids with a knife. A rather dull knife, from the hack job that was being done in his presence.

“That won’t do at all,” he tuts. “That thing isn’t fit to cut a stick of butter. Here.” He pulls his dagger from its holster and holds it up as an offering. “Sharp enough to stab clean through a goblin’s ribcage.”

“Ew.”

“I cleaned it, after,” he clarifies.

She accepts the blade, and slices off the blackened, burnt hair with a few short wrist movements. She turns to show him her handiwork, where one braid now hangs, a few inches shorter than the other.

“Shall we cut the other, so they match?” he offers. Her shoulders slump.

“No, it’s fine,” she says through gritted teeth. The loss of a few inches of hair seems to vex her for some reason. He shrugs, not really caring either way.

She brushes the braids to the side, drawing his attention instantly to the smooth column of her neck. His eyes track the faint marks from where his teeth last pierced her, remembering her hot blood filling his mouth.

Astarion swallows. His fangs feel heavy, as does the deep hungering and craving in his belly. Her heart beats as loud to his ears as one of the goblin’s war drums since he’s been glutted on the blood of thinking creatures, and Morgan’s blood in particular sang to him from under her skin the longer he went without. Her wild magic perhaps, gave it a certain ambrosia that the bandits and goblins he fed from couldn’t begin to compare to. All of it swill, compared to the vintage in front of him.

There’s a moment when the scent of blood so close sends his bestial craving into a frenzy, and he’s overwhelmed with the monstrous urge to pin and bite, to rip and tear into her neck and gorge himself until there’s nothing left of her.

“I take it you’re here for blood?”

She’s staring at him staring at her neck, and he quickly wrests control over the thrashing beast of his hunger and looks up at her with his mask in place. A practiced smile, given thousands of times. “Are you offering?” He leans into her personal space, slides a hand on her hip. Lets a bit of heat rumble into his voice, pitched low next to her rounded ear.

Her expression doesn’t betray her, but the roar of blood rushing through her veins at her quickened heart rate is proof enough of her arousal at his nearness. Typical human, he smirks. Always flattered by attention from their betters.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” she answers him, flipping the dagger around to hand it to him handle first. Sheathing it quickly, he sits back and pats his lap.

“Come here darling, let’s get comfortable.”

She settles between his legs, back against his chest. She tilts her head, holding onto her braids. Her pulse jumps and his craving intensifies.

It hadn’t taken much effort at all to maneuver her into this position. A smug satisfaction fills him from head to toe, all the more potent by the anticipation of their blood exchange.

He intends to draw out the moment of the bite and savor it, but with her neck offered before him he gives into his need and sinks his teeth into her flesh, forgetting to be gentle in his eagerness. She winces and makes a pained sound so he pulls his fangs back to soothe the wound with his tongue with her blood on his lips. As like all the times before, his senses are flooded with sensation and feeling and an awareness he’d been lacking for so long.

How denied he had been! Made to beg for the putrid blood of insects and vermin, decade after decade, and even being happy to receive that after years without anything at all but the deepest pits of hunger clawing at his sanity. The taste of sewage and ash was all he’d known, and now a veritable feast fit for a Lord lies in his lap, freely given. The rich, complex flavor of her magic touched blood bursts on his tongue in ways completely foreign to him.

His mind, sharp and focused now without the fog of hunger clouding his every move. The heaviness that dragged his limbs was gone as a warmth began to bloom in his chest. He could take on all of his siblings in this state, he thinks, feeling drunk on her power. The image of throttling Petras fills him with a giddy sort of glee that makes him grin against her throat.

A drop of blood escapes him and begins to dribble down the side of her neck. He chases it with his tongue, licking his way back up to the wound he’d made to press his mouth back to it. She shivers, the movement drawing his attention with predatory intensity.

Her arousal would be obvious even if he couldn’t taste it in her blood. He could see it in the way she shifted against him, clutching his forearm and making those little breathy sounds he was all too familiar with.

Her life’s blood slides down his throat, and he groans from the taste, his newfound strength, and her own sexual arousal leaking from her tadpole to his. Even his squirming little brain companion seemed pleased by the feast before him.

Careful, careful, he reminds himself. He can’t weaken her too much, in case Cazador’s minions find them out here and try to bring him back.

An unwanted feeling of helplessness and panic runs over him, and he curses the power his old master still holds over him even in his absence. Pathetic.

Still, he needs her hale. He can’t be too greedy, lest the cleric turns her temper back onto him again.

Morgan’s eyelids start to droop and he pulls back reluctantly, staunching the small wound with his fingers. The smell and taste of her blood lingers in his mouth and he sighs, feeling warm and altered.

She stirs and tries to sit up, but falls back against him. Shit, maybe he did take too much.

“Shh…shh…just rest here a moment,” he reassures, guiding her to the bedroll. He hovers over her and puts a hand on her chin, looking into her eyes. She meets his gaze and appears coherent but weakened, which satisfies him. However, best to not leave her in such a state to ensure she wouldn’t suffer any ill effects that would earn him another thrashing from the cleric, or worse, a stake.

“How do you feel?” He asks her, trying to keep her awake and talking.

“Weak,” she wheezes, in that odd accent of hers. He still hasn’t placed it. “Almost blacked out, trying to stand.”

“Hmm.” He inspects the bite marks on her neck, finding them scabbed over already. His fangs itch to open them once more and drain her dry, but he clamps down on the intrusive urge and reaches for a jug of water. He pours some into a tin cup and bids her to drink.

Morgan downs the cup quickly with a shaking hand, prompting him to refill the cup after she drains it. She drinks that one too, then groans and manages to sit up.

He makes his move.

“Ahh, poor little pudding. I do appreciate the sacrifice you are making, on my behalf,” he says, letting his unnecessary breath ghost across her skin as he plucks the empty cup from her grasp. His fingers linger a little longer than necessary on hers. “How could I possibly repay you for such a debt?”

“Umm,” she seems distracted. He smiles inwardly. “It’s fine, if it helps you fight. The weakness doesn’t last long.”

“Still,” he tuts in mock consternation. “You deserve a reward for all of this. I am so very grateful for all you’ve given me…” he sets the empty cup aside, and very gently rests one of his palms on her thigh.

She snorts as she considers him for a moment. “What are you offering?”

“Well…” he lets the phrase linger on his tongue as his fingers dance a trail up her clothed thigh. “Perhaps a night to ourselves, so I can show you in great detail how pleased I am with what you’ve given me.” He pauses. “And I do mean sex by the way, if that wasn’t clear.”

“Okay. When?”

Well, that was easy. This woman was clearly an idiot, agreeing to meet a vampire alone in the darkness, and he couldn’t be happier with his fortune.

“Tomorrow,” he purrs, gracefully sliding next to her on the bedroll. He props his head up with a hand and raises his other to push some stray hairs out of her face. “I’ll find us a nice secluded paradise where we can make all the noise we want without the others to trouble us.”

“Why not now? I can be very quiet.”

That drew a genuine bark of laughter from him. “Eager little thing!” His eyes rake down her form in a show of rakish approval before his free arm snakes around her waist to drag her down to him. She lets out a little squeal, which he likes. “I’d much rather have you screaming my name all night, if it’s all the same to you,” he growls in her ear.

“All night? That’s a bold claim, don’t you think?”

Brat.

“The cleric said you should rest after giving blood in any case,” he reminds her, dragging a thumb across her lips. She catches his thumb and bites it, leaving a weak impression of her blunt teeth. “You’ll have to control your lust for a little bit longer, my dear.”

She rolls her eyes at him, but her smile is lazy and amused. Good.

”Fine,” she yawns, punctuating his point. “Yeah, I guess I’m pretty tired.”

“Then sleep, lover…and after a stimulating day of slaughtering more goblins, no doubt, we will indulge in our every desire.”

“Sounds good.” The word are slurred from her exhaustion, and come out more as “s’goo.” Her eyes drift shut.

Astarion lifts himself off her bedroll and watches her for a second. Her heartbeat and breathing has returned to normal levels, so he lets himself out of her tent. Back into the darkness of the evening, his senses flare to life; vision piercing through the darkness, conversations from all the way across camp playing in his ears, sensing a myriad of delicious heartbeats and pulses throbbing all around him.

None as enticing as the feast he’s had just now.

He slips into the shadows between the tents, remaining undetected until he reaches the one he has claimed as his own. The interior is littered with jars of congealed blood from enemies he’s attempted to preserve, but the thought of consuming them now after the banquet he just dined on is unthinkable. He lays back onto his own bedroll instead to contemplate his good fortune.

It was good he got to Morgan first, given how both Gale and Lae’zel had been looking at her. Though imagining her and Gale together was laughable; if his lectures didn’t put her to sleep they wouldn’t stop bickering long enough to get their clothes off. Morgan had made her disdain of wizards clear enough, not that it stopped the man’s pathetic longing in her direction.

Lae’zel would be a bit more problematic if she chose to pursue his target. He’d have to keep an eye on the gith.

Without those two mucking around in his territory, Astarion was confident he could keep her interest, if tonight’s little dance had been any indication.

He’d secure Morgan’s favor, and convince her to talk the others into helping him kill Cazador after dealing with this worm business. Then? Well he had all the time in the realms to figure that out.

**

Thank you for reading! I did not plan to write any fanfiction for this fandom but @mercymaker and I have been chatting about sexy vampire bites and throat ripping and it changed my brain chemistry and wouldn’t leave me alone until I got this out of my system 😅

[vextheallay]

RTV part 2

again, no art HDHSVWBWNWJ

@4thwallbreakerdraws2 / @rtv-puzzlevision-studios

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Vex was exited to go to the art Departement, since she was an artist herself. Her art wasn't the best but she tried her best

She looked around the group as they were walking, most of these people were unkown to her but they had some interesting Designs in her opinion. Vex's tail flicked around a bit

Some people she recodnized was this one Goblin-like floating creature with cool looking eyes. Swirly eyes are a cool design choice. Vex recodnized that Goblin sand-eating creature anywhere. It was Grinnames

@grinnames

Then there was that fucking robot-human she hated with a burning passion, but something was... off. She didn't pay much attention to him though. Michael seemed busy

@michaelscorneroftheinternet

she didn't really listen to what RTV or Colores was saying, she just listened to it on the side while taking notice of some other people, she really wanted to talk to them or team up with a group or make her own, but she was too scared and shy to talk to them... because of anxiety maybe?

Also the fear of people thinking she was weird or something, even though most of the people here weren't exactly human

”The Art Department is responsible for all the designs you see around the studio from merchandise to websites although the latter with the help of the Social Media Department! In general we always work closely together with other departments. For example also with the Film Department when it comes to ads!”, Colores now continued, raising a finger. “Among other things we also take care of the fanmail.”

Now that last part got Vex's attention, she chuckled quietly to herself, she knew where this was going, weird fans and fanfics probably. Vex continued to listen and yeah, she was right. After that she just stopped listening, her attention span was very short

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Very short once again, I am not a great writer and on a short timespan so my apologize lol