#Astral Dreams Event

[studioneiro]

167. by Helena Leeder Via Flickr: .::House of Pain::. Dark Snake tatto @Astral Dreams Event The Factory - BAT @Astral Dreams Event :studiOneiro: Ina BENTO set @Dubai

#moon hair #house of pain #tattoo #the factory #bat #astral dreams event #ade #second life #sl #blog #photo #flickr

[kayshla19]

Style3135 by Kay ღ Lush ღ Blogger Via Flickr: thisiskayshla.blogspot.com/2023/01/style3135.html

#Naturi #Astral Dreams Event #Dictatorshop #Rezz Room #Apple Fall #Architect #Dahlia #KraftWork #David Heather #anc #home decor #furniture #Photographer #Photos #Picture #Blog #Blogger #This is Kaysha #Kayshla #Kayshla Aristocrat #SL Living #flickr

[leon-hoax]

Leon Hoax & Emma Hoax | BLOGGERS

[ Me and myself. ]

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ＥＭＭＡ

↪ Hair Blight from Stealthic → in Mainstore

↪ Eyeshadow Kit 11 LeL EvoX from Dalila → in Mainstore

↪ Golden Designs Nail kit 20 from Dalila → in Mainstore

↪ Body REBORN from eBODY → in Mainstore

↪ Faya Set from Bipolar → at eBODY REBORN Event

Event Opening Date: November 22, 2022

Event Closing Date: December 07, 2022

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

ＬＥＯＮ

↪ Poses Gilbert Collection (Updated) from SINCHI → in Mainstore

↪ Jave Hairbase from Volkstone → in Mainstore

↪ Coman Nails from RichB. → at Astral Dreams Event

Event Opening Date: November 28, 2022

Event Closing Date: December 20, 2022

↪ Tyson facial hair from UNLEASH → at The Grand Event

Event Opening Date: November 26, 2022

Event Closing Date: December 13, 2022

↪ SAUL SET from GASET x FAKE SOCIETY → in Mainstore

#SINCHI #Volkstone #RichB. #Astral Dreams Event #UNLEASH #The Grand Event #GASET x FAKE SOCIETY

[hexjulia]

just remembered how this morning woke up in the middle of an incredibly boring debate between two strangers on whether horses ridden by christians were christian as well despite the horses not being baptised. I was just wondering why i was there for it when quite abruptly and that was thankfully no longer the case (woke up).

#why was i present in what i figure was a medieval type situation #i didn't peg it as medieval at the time because i was there. it was just two guys casually talking #as they stood next to two large dark horses holding the bridles #waiting for someone idk who to show up #like. do you ever have dreams that are vivid and if you were superstitious could be believed to be you astral projecting into a the past #only. because your mind is kind of a rudderless instrument you just end up spying on the most irrelevant things in existence #that's how it feels. now how it actually happened is probably because i have a severe debilitating wikipedia addiction #and my mind tries to make a narrative out of random bits and bops about historical events and theological debates i'm vaguely aware of

[questingquasar]

there's an old event in hoshi that isn't in dream bf where they're in these outfits, and dio has those glasses

while they were played off as lookalikes with the same name in this event, not the guys themselves, that still makes twice that they've put dio in glasses and my megane nerd heart is overjoyed by this nonsense xD

#dream boyfriend: astral days #dbf npcs #hoshikare days #i wouldnt be surprised if it is them from another place in time in spite of how the event plays out anyway bc theyve done that before #theres an event that dbf did get where in the end its kagura telling a story and not an actual au... #and then player makes a comment abt how it didnt feel like *just* a story and tries to pry and kagura's just like :) #i have 16 events unlocked in hoshi now!! out of 24 that dbf didnt get! i'm having a lovely time with that lol

[requinoesis]

Something I'm still very undecided about is the name of the indie band of my three young sharks from a retro universe. It's such a simple thing, but it's perplexing me, perhaps because I want something very specific. In this case, a marine element + a cosmic element. 🦈✨

I wish you could all help me with this creative insight! At the moment I have these ideas, do you like them, do any of them sound cool?

🎵 Dreaming Sharks, Dream Divers, Dream Shiver, Astral Dreamers.

These names would be more ideas for songs they would make:

🎶 Pastel Summer, Reef Dreams, Stranded Song, Wreck Echoes, Ocean Wish, Astral Sailors, Stargazing Sharks, Sharks also Dream, Whispering Waves, Emotional Frenzy, The Rainbow After the Storm.

What I do know is that their essence is about chasing dreams with a cosmic touch, magical ocean and optimism. I created these three characters inspired by the triple idea of the tarot: Sun, Moon and Star.

☀️ Sun as ruler of Tiago/Tyson the tiger shark, someone warm, who inspires courage and determination.

🌙 Moon as ruler of Roberto/Rocky the great hammerhead shark, someone mysterious, who inspires feeling and empathy.

⭐ And the Star as ruler of Arielle/Aria the zebra shark, someone dreamy, who inspires imagination and faith.

If you'd like to know a bit more about the three of them, you can read about them here.

Someone once told me that imagining a scene with my characters could help me understand the essence that could lead me to the ideal band name. So I remembered what I had imagined:

"Previously, it was just Roberto and Tiago, but they were looking for a voice for their songs. One starry night on the beach, Roberto witnessed a strange shooting star that didn't reflect his image in the sea. Despite this, he was inspired to make a wish.

The event reminded him of his van, which he affectionately calls "Starfall". After going for a drive with Tiago, a synchronicity event led them to Arielle, whom they found singing alone at a local karaoke bar. Since then, Roberto likes to call her "Lucky Star", the one who inspires them to hope in the face of adversity.

And one day, when Roberto and Tiago were undecided about how to name the band, Arie surprised them with an ideal name idea!"

The problem is that I don't know what idea Arie had! haha

Sorry for writing so much, I've always had a hard time summarizing things…

#shark #sharks #character design #ocs #worldbuilding

[truly-sincerely]

Comprehensive Dead Three Timeline

Outdated! I've made a new timeline!

Obviously there's varying amounts of speculation here, but I believe this is as close to a reasonable order of events as can be achieved with current, in-game information

1460s

Enver Flymm sold to Raphael by his parents, renamed Gortash

Gortash learns about the Crown of Karsus while a prisoner of Raphael

1470s

Gortash escapes the House of Hope

Gortash gets involved with black market arms dealing

Durge begins their serial killing spree in Baldur’s Gate

The Emperor dominates Duke Stelmane

1480s

Gortash establishes a cult of Bane in Baldur’s Gate

Gortash approaches Durge about an alliance

Hall of Wonders test mission - Durge gets Bhaalist memorabilia - Gortash gets a bunch of Gondian designs - Durge & Gortash get companionship

Gortash trades Karlach to Zariel for infernal machinery & iron

Baldur’s Gate’s Beloved Ranger statue goes missing

Gortash recruits Franc Peartree to distribute infernal iron weapons

Gortash moves against the Zhentarim & Knights of the Shield

Wyll Ravengard enters pact with Mizora, leaves Baldur’s Gate

1490s

Dead Three made aware of the Crown of Karsus (most likely informed by Gortash) - Gortash becomes Bane’s Chosen - Durge becomes Bhaal’s chosen - Gortash & Durge are instructed to recruit Ketheric

Gortash tells Durge about the Crown of Karsus

They visit Ketheric and learn of the illithid colony under Moonrise

Gortash & Durge visit the House of Hope (for intel on Mephistar?)

Gortash & Durge raid Mephistar - They get the Crown of Karsus - They get the book on the accelerated grand design

Gortash captures the Emperor

Gortash & Durge return to Moonrise - Their identities are kept secret from Ketheric’s people - Durge impresses the Moonrise Gnolls, but not Steelclaw - Ketheric yells at Durge in the throne room for unknown reason

Durge proposes their plan to the Elder Brain who accepts

Raid on the illithid colony - Durge puts the Crown on the Elder Brain - Orin gets Durge alone during the raid & stabs them in the head - Orin tadpoles Durge, making them the first True Soul - Orin leaves Durge in an illithid pod - Orin tells the Chosen she now speaks for the Temple of Bhaal - Orin likely told Gortash, Ketheric, and Balthazar something vague about Durge’s disappearance being related to Durge’s religious crisis and let their imaginations do the rest

1492

Durge breaks out of their pod & is found by Kressa Bonedaughter

Gortash gets weird and intense with unethical experiments - Some futzing to get the tadpoles to consistently remain in stasis - This is when the name ‘True Souls’ gets coined - Extremely questionable fun with brains - Getting the Absolute’s voice sorted out - Tadpoling his parents - Poorly conceived experiments on children & their parents

Isobel is resurrected by the Dead Three

Minsc captured by Absolutists at recruitment rally in the Undercity

Minthara Baenre is recruited by Orin and Ketheric

Gortash has the Iron Throne converted to hold hostages

Gortash presents prototype Steel Watcher to the city council

Jaheira tracks cult to shadow-cursed land, meets Isobel

Elturel falls into Avernus

The brain sends the Chosen dreams about the Astral Prism

Gortash researches the Prism, finds out that Vlaakith has it

Gortash tells Ketheric to send a team to get the Prism - A nautiloid piloted by the Emperor and other illithid is sent - Kressa’s husband arranged for Durge to be on the nautiloid

Gortash deploys Steel Watch in Lower/Outer City

At this point Elturel is no longer in Avernus

Nautiloid picks up Shadowheart & the Prism from Astral Plane

Nautiloid picks up Lae’zel (?)

Nautiloid picks up Gale (?) & Astarion in Baldur's Gate

Nautiloid picks up Karlach & Wyll in Avernus

Nautiloid crashes, game begins

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 timeline #The Dead Three #Lord Enver Gortash #Ketheric Thorm #Orin the Red #The Dark Urge #The Emperor #Shadowheart #Lae'zel of K'liir #Gale of Waterdeep #Gale Dekarios #Astarion Ancunin #Karlach Cliffgate #Wyll Ravengard #The Blade of Frontiers #High Harper Jaheira #Minsc of Rashemen #If you want older Gortash you can have him sold in the 50s and escape in the 60s #but I don't think he's older than 40 based on I'm 41 and his parents look younger than my parents #I tried not to editorialize #but I failed #Durge killing spree began in 1477 #Duke Stelmane became the Emperor's thrall in 1479 #Karlach was sold in 1482 #Beloved Ranger statue disappeared in 1482 #Wyll pacted to Mizora in 1485 #Nautiloid crashed 20 Eleasias 1492

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 ✿

characters: self aware!acheron x isekai!gn!reader, slight dan heng x reader to the end

warnings: fluff, poor attempt at humor, consumption of alcohol, lying (from dan heng), brief appearance of playable characters, description of acheron test run, reader is isekaid into the hsr world and is just trying to live their life, reader is referred to as aeon of life and your excellency

notes: just had a shower thought and remembered acheron interaction from the cosmodessy event and BOOM! part 2 of dragon fic is on the work i swEAR PLS DONT EAT ME the divider is from @/rookthornesartistry

“hmm…”

what a tricky situation. acheron had been wandering through the dreams of penacony to find out about the truth of the oak family. or at least, finding some hint and cases that has been silenced by the family. but on the way…

“i seem to be lost”

yes, the amnesiac galaxy ranger had found herself lost once more. she had briefly agreed with the astral express to meet them later at the clockie statue of golden hour, but the poor woman was now wondering which way is which and which direction she should be heading towards. oh well, she’ll figure it out later. right now, she needed to know where she was or attempt to find a familiar face.

looking around herself, acheron could hear the faint sound of jazz playing further down one of the halls. there also seem to be other people there as she could make out laughter and murmuring of people alongside the scent of alcohol wafting through the air.

a bar, perhaps?

quietly, she makes her way to the end of the hall, opening the double doors and coming to what she guessed was a bar. it did indeed seem like it, though just maybe a bit smaller than the usual grand and bright neon sign filled ones at the golden hour. briefly, the woman takes a moment to look around, hoping to find a familiar face. there was a bartender behind the bar, a halovian mixing a drink. perhaps she could ask her—?

a familiar colored hair catches acheron’s attention just as she was about to make her way over to the bartender. there, far away from the crowd of people at one of the seats sat the aeon of life. their back turned to others, seemingly running away from attention as they hunch over their table. acheron had never personally met the aeon of life before but she had felt their warmth, heard some snippets about them through the trailblazer and during an odd battle she was forced to fight in and have seen glimpses of their visage through the screen that the trailblazer allowed her to.

when acheron was first teleported to some theme park of penacony, she wondered if someone had kidnapped her. but when the ranger tried to move herself, she had found it impossible. until she did. someone or something was controlling her body, making her draw her blade and fight, yet she found it hard to hate the puppeteer. it felt… warm. to the lone galaxy ranger, this odd puppeteer of hers gave her a warm feeling, like being gently cradled by the sun. gentle and kind as the puppeteer moves her around, muffled gasps of awe and words of admiration falling onto her ears. this puppeteer of hers’ voice sounded gentle, soothing her heart, filling the loneliness of her soul. as quickly as it came, it disappeared and she was back in her room at the reality of the hotel.

when she briefly mentioned of this incident when she met welt of the astral express, he simply smiled with a knowing expression. the older man had told her about the aeon of life — or at least their reborn mortal self — and how they would sometimes guide some people to help them solve their problem or to bless them with more strength. most of the times though, these people were pathstriders, he told her.

and now here she was, in the flesh, being able to see the aeon of life themself.

quietly, the ranger makes her way towards the hunched over aeon. they seem to have had some glasses of drinks, the ice in them melting inside the glass as they lay their head on their arms, one hand wrapped around the glass of their next drink.

meanwhile, you try to fight back some sleep. drowsiness falling over you due to all sorts of drinks you’ve consumed. though, most were alcohol free, they still managed to knock you down a peg. must be the secret of being penacony dreamscape drinks or something. or maybe it was just siobhan’s specialty. she seemed very skilled in the art of free mixing.

the faint sound of heels clacking catches your attention though, making you stop and take a moment to listen carefully. not so soon after, the sound stops right behind you, along with a faint presence behind your back. you try to play asleep, hoping the person would just buy the act and leave you alone. ever since you were isekaid into the star rail world, people have been clamoring for your attention left and right. you came to penacony with the express in hopes of blending within the bright lights and dazzling signs of the dream world for people to ignore you and give you some time to breathe.

though, the presence continues to stay. lingering just behind you.

gulping, remembering an iconic meme back from your world, you slowly get up from your laying position and turn your head around to see who it was.

“YAAGHH—!” you yelp out loud, nearly shrieking as you jump from your seat when you saw acheron just silently staring at you, a bit closer than what you would prefer. the woman blinks, eyeing you carefully as she takes in your appearance. meanwhile, you hold a hand over your heart to calm the rapid beating of it.

breathing in and out, you eventually manage to calm yourself down. keeping an awkward eye contact with the ranger, you reach out to your unfinished glass of drink, taking a long sip from it. all the while, acheron continues to hold this somewhat awkward stare down.

“a-acheron, what are you doing here? you scared the shit out of me” you say, now finally calm after that last gulp of your drink. the woman’s exposed purple eye widens slightly, as if she was surprised by the fact you knew her. ah right, you two haven’t officially met each other in the flesh. so of course it will come off as weird to the galaxy ranger.

“i appear to be lost, your excellency” she replies, noting the unusual hue of your eye. it had a ring of gold in it, making you look otherworldly. but in this life where people can easily travel from one world to the other, that wasn’t exactly a compliment enough to say that you looked beautiful.

right, you remembered now that acheron had a tendency to forget things very easily and she would continue to be amnesiac until she draws her blade.

“well… where do you need to go then?”

the two of you have made your way out of siobhan’s bar, out of the dreamscape reverie hotel and towards the golden hour as she had said. but first you made little detours in your walk, stopping a few memory zone memes that has become unstable — during the whole time, acheron had told you to stay behind her so you would be safe — taking your time to admire the scenery of the dreamscapes before you two finally made it to the golden hour. it was buzzing, bustling with people from all over the galaxy and street vendors raising their voices to catch someone’s attention.

seeing a floating ice cream at the other end of the street, acheron steps onto the road without looking.

“ache, watch out!” you quickly reach out, holding her hand and yanking her back to yourself as a speeding car nearly runs her over. warm. you felt warm to the touch, gentle in the way you handled her as if she was made of glass. tender, almost, like a lover would hug another to their heart. she liked the way you hugged her, even though it was one born out of protective instinct.

“are you okay?” you ask, squeezing her bicep gently to take her attention. acheron turns her head to look at you, nodding her head that she was fine. everyone would be fine if they were in your protection after all. warm, safely tucked into your loving embrace.

“ache” she spoke suddenly, taking your attention back to herself. “you called me ache, your excellency. do you like the nickname?” the ranger asks, having never received any nicknames from others. this was her first time, having lost everyone she was close to and being forced to walk a lonely road until she caught the gaze of nothingness itself. even if she did indeed had gained nicknames from others before, she had long forgotten them. so this newfound form of kinship in you, in being given something intimate to be referred to by someone, brought a feeling of joy to the lonely ranger.

“i mean… do you like it?” you ask, looking at her face if she would give away any indication that she disliked it. to which you saw nothing. only the faint smile growing on her face. you liked that look on her face. the brooding, sad, melancholic look that she usually wears never fitted her. but when she did that, had a small smile on her face with a face of contentment, it seemed to suit her much better.

“mhm” acheron simply nods, an odd feeling of childish glee in her heart at the thought of having earned an intimate nickname. not from just anyone, but from you — the aeon of life, the very first living being that came to existence and decided to bless other lifeless things into meaningful ones. the aeon of life whose love and care held no bounds, reaching all over galaxies and world — even to ones that were distant and lone — embracing them in your love and care.

acheron liked the nickname “ache”. a heron liked to enjoy her time beside you. with you.

holding hands, eating floating ice creams and magical popcorns, the two of your take your sweet time during your detour to the clockie statue in golden hour. some people stopped you to ask for your autograph or a selfie together. it had become a common thing for you to experience ever since you got isekaid into this world.

the way you stopped to laugh at acheron’s face, where she had undoubtedly made a mess when eating her newly favorite peach flavored ice cream, the way you took out a napkin, wiping away the mess from her lips in such a tender manner caught the attention of a certain bloodhound. gallagher watched, jealous and other unknown bitter feelings swirling inside him as he watches your “date” with acheron from a bit away. he didn’t understand why he was so jealous. he was already in your grace, having come home to you many times while the ranger hadn’t came home to you even once.

but coming home, being in your grace and going on dates with you and holding hands were two completely different things. maybe he should invite you to come over at siobhan’s bar more.

finally, the pair of you made it to the clockie statue. when nearing to your destination, you felt the metal clawed hand of acheron tightening around yours. she seemed sad over the fact she had to let you go. it was nice to be beside you. holding hands, making jokes, feeling of belonging and comfort easily sweeping over her in waves that she never felt before. and yet she had to let go now. the express members were looking at you two weirdly.

“it’s alright, ache. we’ll go on more walks together later, okay? you have my phone number after all. you can text me if you want” your soothing voice graces her ears, filling the empty void of her heart. the woman remembers now. you gave her your number on the way here.

nodding, very reluctantly, acheron’s hands lets go of yours. immediately she wanted to reach out to hold your hand again, to feel the warmth of the sun from your skin again. but she holds herself back, afraid that she might scare you off with how forward she may come off as.

“see you later!”

“aaah… hopefully, today won’t be filled with creepy stalkers or annoying fans running after me…” you groan out, slumped over on one of the seats at the theme park. there wasn’t much people around, even if there were, the people here were too immersed in the exhilarating experience of the theme park. this place really was the world of dreams, huh…

“good afternoon, everyone. this is the ipc broadcast, coming back with news from all over the galaxy” one of the radios that was placed around the theme park speaks up, the familiar voices of the two npc’s coming through to catch some gossip loving folks’ attention.

“yesterday, at the world of dreams penacony, many people have reported to seeing their excellency, the aeon of life, going on a date with a certain mysterious purple haired woman” oh fuck no. no more gossip regarding the most basic things you do. please, no more scandals.

“some reports have stated that their excellency was sighted holding hands and going around one of the most famous dreamscapes of penacony — the golden hour — in a seemingly intimate date with the woman” it wasn’t a date! besides, people were too damn invested into your life.

groaning and silently spewing curses under your breath, you tune out the rest of the news broadcast, instead focusing on the taste of soulglad in your hand. at least there weren’t anyone around to bother you today. or anyone to spook you by just silently standing behind you. breathing down your neck, quietly standing there as if waiting for you to slowly turn around with “it’s behind me, isn’t it?”.

wait that’s too specific.

“your excellen—“

“whAT THE FUCK?!” safe to say, you jumped out of your seat when the familiar soothing voice of dan heng reached your ears. some people around turned to give you a weird or concerned stare.

“dan heng?! the hell are you doing here? aren’t you supposed to be back at the express?” you choke out, thankfully having not thrown your glass of soulglad in your fright. in return, the quiet dragon only tilts his head slightly, a sheepish look on his face. he lowkey reminded you of a puppy with that face…

“i came here to check on the other express members. they weren’t replying to me in the group chat. and now—“

“— and now you’re lost” you finish for him, waiting, keeping an eye contact to see if he would deny or agree. to which he simply nodded his head as slight pink hue spread over his cheeks.

“alright where do you need to go?”

“the golden hour, clockie statue”

“alright, alright. jeez, what’s up with you guys always meeting up at the statue?”

“uhm… your excellency?”

“yeah?”

“can we… hold hands?”

tomorrow, another hit news was broadcasted by the ipc broadcast, speaking of how the aeon of life was spotted going on another date with a young, handsome man from the astral express.

#nobu.writes #self aware hsr #self aware honkai star rail #sahsrau #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x you #dan heng x reader #acheron x reader #acheron x you #gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert

[coquetteprincesss]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 ★

𝐈. what is commanding your subconscious mind?

commanding your subconscious is just talking to it directly and trusting that it will have your desire manifested for you. your subconscious knows everything that you want. every. single. thing. whenever you desire something or just “think” of having it, your subconscious immediately starts working on it to bring it to you. now, you might wonder, “if my subconscious really did that, then wouldn't it already have manifested me my wildest dreams?” well, honey, that's not the case. have you ever thought of trusting or having faith in your subconscious or just giving it a talk about manifesting it for you? no, right? that's the reason your desires are taking longer to manifest. because you apply methods to manifest, and then let your intrusive thoughts take over. your subconscious understands that you don't trust it and it doesn't work as it should for you then.

𝐈𝐈. how to command your subconscious mind?

as i said, commanding your subconscious is just talking to it directly. whether it be aloud or in your mind. you can do it anytime. for example, “hey subconscious, i wanna enter the void tonight. i know you'll wake me up there.” or “hey subconscious, i want good grades in my maths exam. i know you'll manifest it for me, yeah?” you can talk to it anyhow you want. you want to talk to it like it's your best-friend? ok, that works. like your baddie? that works too. or just normally? yup, that works! anyhow you want. it's your choice because your subconscious is taking in every single moment of your life. whether it be talking, walking, sleeping, breathing, laughing, crying, taking a bath, cutting your nails, putting on make-up, wearing your socks, your hair-strand sticking out, etc, etc, etc, countless moments. and when you are commanding your subconscious, you are giving it a job to do and it's already working on it. all you need to do is have faith and trust in your subconscious. after commanding and doing everything, don't be like, “will this even work?” “is my subconscious trustable?” “will it do it in my time-crunch?”, etc. don't be like that. when you are so insecure, you are showing your subconscious that you don't trust it. so, why would it even work for you, right?

𝐈𝐈𝐈. for what can you use this?

you can command your subconscious for everything. yes, for literally EVERYTHING. you wanna shift? go for it. enter the void? yup, works. manifest? lucid dream? astral project? works for anything. even for small, regular events too. for example, you don't want to go to school or have a holiday declared from the school or anything, command your subconscious, it will manifest it for you.

𝐈𝐕. outro

so, talk with your subconscious whenever you want. just take out some time and tell your subconscious about your problems or your desires and how you want them to be. address it frequently while talking to it. that will give more of an impact. and most importantly trust and have faith in it. it is working only for you.

© coquetteprincesss

#commanding your subconscious mind #subconscious #law of assumption #master manifestor #neville goddard #commanding

[thethirdromana]

Dracula characters based on how likely they would be to eat a worm

Jack Seward There’s scarcely anyone in this story more likely to eat a worm than Jack Seward. As an experiment? Yeah, sure. When he was bullied at school? Almost certainly. Because a somewhat overbearing father figure suggested it? Without question. This man has eaten a worm before and he would do so again.

Arthur Holmwood Arthur is the son of a Lord, the Victorian 1%, one of the most wealthy and privileged individuals in one of the most wealthy and privileged countries in the world. Until the events of the novel, do we think Arthur Holmwood, future Lord Godalming, ever had to do anything he didn’t want to? Even in the horrors of the Victorian public school system, rank has its privileges. He would not eat a worm.

Quincey Morris An adventurous type like Quincey? He wouldn’t just eat a worm, he’d fry it in a little butter and cayenne pepper and do his best to enjoy it.

Lucy Westenra as a human I was going to say absolutely not. Surely she would be horrified at the very idea. But equally, Lucy is by far the biggest people-pleaser in the whole novel [edited to redact unreasonable slander of Jonathan Harker]. If she thought eating a worm would make someone she loved happy, she’d dig right in.

Lucy Westenra as the Bloofer Lady Small children have been known to eat worms, and Lucy has been known to eat small children. So indirectly, yes, she would eat a worm.

Jonathan Harker It strikes me that we don’t know much about the eating habits of any of the characters in this novel – for instance, we know which pub Jack Seward likes, but not what he eats when he’s there.

But we have a wealth of information about Jonathan, and we know he is the kind of man who will have an unfamiliar paprika dish for dinner, have “queer dreams”, then go down for breakfast and have even more paprika.

Jonathan Harker would eat a worm.

Mina Harker née Murray Mina would do anything for her friends and loved ones, and that includes eating a worm. But come on guys, really? You would force Mina to eat a worm after everything she’s been through? You monsters.

Van Helsing Van Helsing thinks astral projection is real and parrots live forever. He’s the first person to consider the possibility that Lucy is being vampired. This man has the most open mind in the entire novel. He is a deeply weird individual and he would definitely eat a worm.

Mrs Westenra Mrs Westenra is a respectable Victorian lady of the upper-middle or upper-classes, and under no circumstances would she eat a worm.

Unless it was the last-ditch treatment for her ailing daughter, I guess.

Dracula You know the song you might have sung as a kid – “nobody likes me, everybody hates me, think I’ll go and eat worms?”

We know Dracula eats solicitors and Lucys, he doesn’t eat worms. But he should.  

Renfield Do I even need to answer this one?

#dracula daily

[spirit-lanterns]

I feel like when alpha!Natasha was young, like before all the shit that happened in Belobog, she wanted a big family and couldn’t wait to find a potential omega to mate

Unfortunately due to the events that happened after (her brother, the underworld being sealed off and abandoned, etc.) she kinda just gave up on that dream because it seemed unrealistic due to her current predicament. Instead she dedicated her life to helping the underworld as best she could (she made Wildfire, takes care of multiple patients without rest, etc.)

It’s only after the Astral Express helps Belobog does the thought of settling down reach Natasha’s mind again. She still doesn’t think it’s possible to have this dream of hers because now she’s old and not as spry as she used to be, but it’s ok. The underworld needs her still anyway, Wildfire is her family and she can always live her dream of having kids by taking care of the kids of the underworld like she always does. Yes everything is ok she says as she stomps of the yearning she feels for this dream of a family of hers

Then one day a young omega from the overworld, aka us, comes down to help out the underworld with supplies as such and they end of meeting. We’re already starstruck by the talented and caring doctor, while Natasha also shows interest she does not act upon it, still thinking that she’s too old to be desirable to potential mates

Alphas by tradition are supposed to court their potential partners, this is a tradition that many of the older generation adhere to, but the younger generation does not seem to care for it. So we start to court her to be her mate, this shocks Natasha because she’s an alpha and you are an omega, traditionally it should go the other way when courtship happens, but also that you want her just as much as she wants you

In the end we do get together and finally fulfilled Natasha’s dream of having a big family. Our first cycle together ended up happening in her office and she was so sweet yet rough, giving us praises for being so good while fucking us like she hates us, surprisingly had so much stamina. Natasha not only wants to prove how she can satisfy us in a sexual sense just like she does in a romantic sense, but also so desperately wants to fill us with her pups. She’s finally getting her dream of settling down, with a lovely mate and having so many pups, how can she pass this up. Not only do we come out of this marked by the gentle alpha but also brimming with her cum, we’re definitely pregnant after this q

Ohhh, poor Natasha 🥺 I can’t imagine giving up on your dreams of having a family…

Luckily when the borders of Belobog are finally opened up thanks to the Express crew, Natasha’s dream of finding a mate is much more open now! She’s hopeful, but logically she knows she’s a bit too old to find a mate. She’s not even sure if she’s as fertile as she was before, so she’s worried that if she finds a mate younger than her, they’d be disappointed she can’t breed them properly :(

However, the moment she meets you, that thinking changes. It seems that with recent generations, you being the excited, spry omega you were, you wanted nothing more than to court Natasha as she seemed like the perfect mate for you! Natasha was surprised to say the least. She thought you would go for an alpha around your age, but when you said you picked her to be yours, she was absolutely smitten.

She couldn’t contain herself that night, she was too excited at the prospect having a beautiful, young mate, and a litter of her own! Shes gently pulling you to a bed, hovering above you in a mating press and mentally praying that she’s still fertile, stuffing you full of her cum over and over again till your legs were sore.

A few weeks later, you found out you were pregnant. Natasha had never been happier, practically picking you up in her arms and bringing you back down for round 2 💕

#🕯️spirit box #omegaverse au

[zeravmeta]

think it was really funny forever that nasu's stance on fgo collab characters (in-series) was "yeah they're just here to make a fun cameo they're not all that relevant in the grand scheme of things" and then the first collab event was the knk event, the very critical prelude to prison tower, one of the most important canon events in fgo, featuring a starting sequence of guda having a funny dream where they end up wandering into the root by accident and kickstarting the chain of gudas soul and dreams being irrevocably tied together with guda astral projecting to places via their dreams and also getting a whole bunch of nightmares into their soul as well

#what im saying is that shutters was right void SHOULD have been who holmes was fighting in the olympus trailer #fgo #fate grand order #zerav meta

[kayshla19]

'Cause love ain't what you want,...Style3121 by Kay ღ Lush ღ Blogger Via Flickr: Feel it Inside thisiskayshla.blogspot.com/2022/12/style3121.html

#Ricielli #Veechi #RAWR! #Lush #Tattoo #Astral Dreams Event #DOUX #Lush Poses #Bento poses #Kayshla #Kay #Kayshla Aristocrat #SL #Second Life #poses #female bento poses #photography #photo #photographer #picture #static poses #female poses #blogger #static pose #influencer #This is Kayshla #Avi #Avatar #Appliers #Bento

[writing-with-sophia]

Magical/ Superpowers list: General

Part 2 of magical/ superpowers list. I didn't know the readmore function before, so it caused trouble for everyone. I'm really sorry!

Probability manipulation (luck manipulation)

Enhanced healing/regeneration

Phasing (ability to pass through solid objects)

Sonic scream

Super breath (ability to blow strong winds or freeze objects)

Weather manipulation

Teleportation

Super hearing

Super smell

Empathy (ability to feel and understand others' emotions)

Telempathy (ability to manipulate others' emotions)

Energy absorption

Energy projection

Super stamina

Night vision

Holographic projection

Super flexibility

Underwater breathing

Plant manipulation

Gravity manipulation

Camouflage

Astral projection

Dimensional travel

Super luck

Laser vision

Enhanced senses (enhanced taste, touch, etc.)

Dream manipulation

Fear manipulation

Probability manipulation (ability to alter probabilities)

Illusion creation

Enhanced speed reading

Enhanced memory

Body swapping

Enhanced agility

Omnilingualism (ability to understand and speak any language)

Magnetic manipulation

Density control (ability to become intangible or super dense)

Earthquake generation

Super breath (ability to create strong gusts of wind)

Animal transformation

Sonic boom generation

Molecular manipulation

Hypnosis

Elasticity

Force field manipulation

Energy shields

Gravity control

Bone manipulation

Enhanced intelligence

Power mimicry (ability to copy others' powers)

Acid generation

Flight through astral projection

Energy wings

Enhanced senses (enhanced taste, touch, etc.)

Power negation (ability to cancel out others' powers)

Enhanced persuasion

Time stop

Molecular combustion (ability to cause objects to explode)

Animal telepathy (ability to communicate with animals)

Insect manipulation

Dreamwalking (ability to enter and control others' dreams)

Probability manipulation (ability to alter outcomes)

Force manipulation

Healing tears (ability to heal others with tears)

Power absorption (ability to steal others' powers)

Elemental transmutation

Energy constructs (ability to create objects out of energy)

Enhanced senses (enhanced taste, touch, etc.)

Magnetic flight

Reality warping

Flight

Super strength

Invisibility

Telepathy

Telekinesis

Super speed

Healing powers

Shape-shifting

Time manipulation

Mind control

X-ray vision

Super intelligence

Energy manipulation

Elemental control (fire, water, air, earth)

Super agility

Precognition (seeing the future)

Super durability

Super senses (enhanced hearing, sight, smell, etc.)

Immortality

Force field generation

Teleportation

Animal communication

Super reflexes

Elasticity

Pyrokinesis (ability to control fire)

Cryokinesis (ability to control ice)

Technopathy (ability to control technology)

Astral projection

Time travel

Size manipulation

Chronokinesis (ability to manipulate time at will).

Astral manipulation (power to manipulate and interact with the astral plane).

Biokinesis (ability to manipulate and control biological matter, such as healing wounds or altering physical characteristics).

Probability manipulation (power to manipulate probabilities, increasing or decreasing the likelihood of specific events).

Sound manipulation (ability to control and manipulate sound waves, including creating sonic blasts or generating illusions through sound).

Memory manipulation (the power to alter, erase, or enhance memories in oneself or others).

Spatial manipulation (the ability to manipulate and control space, including teleportation, creating portals, or bending space to manipulate distances).

Technopathy (the power to communicate with, control, or manipulate technology and electronic devices).

Dream manipulation (the ability to enter and manipulate dreams, altering the dreamer's experiences and perceptions).

Emotion manipulation (the power to control and manipulate emotions in oneself or others).

Energy vampirism (ability to absorb and feed off various types of energy from other sources).

Probability sensing (the power to sense and perceive the likelihood of specific events or outcomes).

Supernatural luck (extreme good luck that seems to defy probability).

Elemental transmutation (ability to transform one element into another).

Power replication (power to copy and temporarily possess others' superpowers).

Fear manifestation (ability to manifest and control the fears of oneself or others).

Meta-communication (power to communicate with concepts, ideas, or abstract entities).

Astral projection (ability to separate one's astral body from their physical body and travel in astral form).

Reality manipulation (the power to alter and manipulate the fabric of reality itself).

Quantum manipulation (the ability to manipulate quantum particles and phenomena).

If you want to read more posts about writing, please click here and give me a follow!

#creative writing #writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #writer things #writers #writersociety #on writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing advice #advice #writing adventures #fanfiction writer #fantasy #writers block #write #words #writers and poets #writing community #writer #ao3 writer #female writers #resources #supernatural #superhero #superpowers #magic

[bitter-bats-cult-of-the-moon]

Types Of Projection

LUCID DREAMING

The Consciousness is aware that you are within a dream. The levels of awareness may vary from a slight recognition to a broadening sense of perspective. Lucid dreams tend to happen while a person is in the middle of their dream, and suddenly they realize that they are.

This term is branded as: dream-initiated lucid dream.

Another type is called: wake-initiated lucid dream, and it happens when you go from a normal waking state into a direct dream state with no lapses within the consciousness.

In both scenarios, dreams tend to be more bizarre and emotional. When lucidity is determined within your own consciousness you should have at least some ability to control yourself.

DREAM WALKING

The Consciousness will be aware that you are within a dream, but it may not just be your dream alone.

Your 'dream-self' will have located someone close to you, and they do not need to be in a physical sense as the subtle reality does not know distance when compared to the physical plane.

Sometimes only the dream-walker knows of the events that transpire, while other times the other person also becomes aware.

MENTAL PROJECTION

The Consciousness projects to another place that is separate from the physical vessel. It's comparable to a daydream, but it's stronger because you see a mental picture. This image, for example, can be comparable to a series of snapshots or a movie being played.

People call this phenomena Remote Viewing or Clairvoyance.

ASTRAL PROJECTION

The Consciousness and the Astral body separate together from the physical vessel. The traveler has use of all five senses, as well as those that are used by the astral body. Vivid dreams are frequent during this time of sleep.

ETHERIC PROJECTION

The Consciousness, the Astral body and the Etheric body separate together from the physical vessel.

BILOCATION

This is where the Consciousness, the Astral body, the Etheric body and the Physical body are in TWO different places at the same time.

#energy work #baby witch #beginner witch #pagan #pagan witch #witch #witch community #witch tips #witchblr #witchcraft #witches of tumblr #witchythings #witches #energy manipulation #paganism #paganblr #pagans of tumblr #pagan stuff #metaphysical #metaphysics #eclectic witch #spirit work #astral projection #spiritualjourney #spirituality #spiritual development #spiritual awakening #spiritualgrowth #metaphysic #occult

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 10: Soulbound

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 6.9k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

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

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

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

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

Your fingers twitch and knead against satiny textiles as wakefulness begins to return you to existence. A lightheaded daze shrouds your vision as your eyes crack open. The canopy of your four-poster bed suspends above you. The drapery is embroidered beautifully with stars, constellations, moons in all phases, and soaring dragons, all revolving around the central sun. In this dream-like state, the depictions seem to move, playing out their destinies against the indigo astral sea as shadows gambol over the extravagant fabric. It would be enchanting if it were not making your head spin uncomfortably.

As you squeeze your eyes shut, your fingers clench and twist the fabric beneath you, and a feeble whine sighs from your lips. Your tongue feels numb and lazy, sagging in your mouth uselessly, and your body feels as fuzzy and impotent as your blurred vision.

“You are awake.”

Astarion’s voice grates at the inception of your consciousness, and you recoil as much as your bloodless body will allow. You still feel his hand around your neck, squeezing tight, halting the pleas in your throat as his fangs sawed at your neck, ripping and tearing the soft flesh. You tumble off the edge of the bed in your panic, and his hands break your fall.

He’s touching you. Hells, he’s touching you, and you want, nay need, him to fucking stop lest you suffocate.

“Don’t touch me,” you sob with a croak, flinging your hands up to protect yourself from further harm, palms heating as your magic surges. “Please. Gods. Don’t touch me.”

Astarion’s hands jerk away, and you shudder while trying to breathe. The stabbing pain in your throat is intolerable, fresh tears springing to your eyes, and your fingers tentatively prod the tender flesh. You don’t need a mirror to know that your skin is revoltingly bruised, a hemorrhaging mural composed by his wrath, and you whimper at the contact of your fingertips. The muscles in your arms and legs still feel like gelatin. They wobble weakly as you push yourself into a corner, hugging your knees to your chest.

“Darling-” Astarion’s hands are poised near you as if he might be able to stop the inevitable crumbling if only he could find the right place to brace it.

“Leave me alone.” You choke out grimly, swallowing the pain caused by your gruff inflection.

“It’s me,” he says, small and shaky.

You need time to think, to regain your composure, and you cannot do it with his eyes on you, his voice repeating your name like a prayer and his hands trying to find where your pieces are weakest so he can give them strength.

“Get out!” You wail despite the barbaric sting that causes more tears to rain out of your eyes. “Get the fuck out!”

“I… Yes, of course. As you wish.” Astarion stutters hesitantly as if he’s not sure if he will heed your commands. The door hinges creak as he closes it behind him, “I’m sorry,” he breathes with a sigh. “Truly.”

Like an ancient ruin that can no longer persevere against the ravages of time, you let yourself collapse and crumble.

The overbearing walls of the Crimson Palace wash over him in waves as he roams through them in a stupor. His fingertips drag across the chilled panels as he tries to orient himself. It feels like he’s waking from a nethermost trance, and his alertness has not fully recovered.

He dives for the desk when he enters the study. It’s full of papers and ledgers in neat piles, and he grabs at parchment chaotically, sending it scattering, sheets fluttering to the ground around him. His eyes scan the documents as he shuffles through them quickly. All in his hand, signature, name, but he does not recall any of this. He tosses sheet after sheet to the side until he finds one with a date.

Eight months.

Eight months of nonexistence. Of something walking around wearing his skin, using his name, speaking in his voice, imitating him.

Where the fuck has he been all this time?

He slams his hands on the desk. It cracks and caves in, regurgitating its contents to the floor. He frowns, takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Her voice still reverberates, an echo in his mind, as she said goodbye in a hauntingly melodic timbre.

Why did she leave him?

Dashing through the halls, the floor mocks him in creeks and groans for his heavy steps. He pushes all the doors open as he progresses further into the palace until he finds what must be his room. Opening the wardrobes and dressers, he tosses his clothing haphazardly to the floor, detached from his typical compulsion for fastidiousness.

Nothing. Not a single article of clothing and none of her possessions are here. Why?

His heart pounds as he jogs through the palace until he catches her scent at the top of the dark staircase leading down into a murky darkness – the old spawn quarters.

No. This cannot be, surely. He wouldn’t. Right?

He bounds down the stairs, 2 or 3 steps at a time, until he comes to a slightly ajar door in the hallway with a lock that he does not recall being there. The pads of his shaky fingers stroke the cool metal, and he swallows the lump balling in his throat.

This has to be a nightmare. This cannot be real.

The door whines when he pushes it and peers into the room. It smells strongly of Jasmine, Honeysuckle and Vanilla - it smells like her. Astarion staggers in and throws open the simple wardrobes and chests, breaking the doors off some of them in his haste.

She left everything, which can only mean one thing - she fled.

What has he done?  

“Lord Ancunin?”

Good Gods, he’s come to loathe that singsong voice like nails on a chalkboard, and the back of his throat tickles as it hauls him away from his reflections.

“Elowyn,” he sneers spitefully, crinkling his nose in disgust. “How many times must we have this discussion? If this disobedience persists, I may have to reconsider our little agreement. I have no need for a spawn that cannot follow simple orders.”

The lie rolls off his tongue, smooth and modulated with the hint of a threat. Elowyn wishes to be given the gift of eternal life, and she’s idiotic and vain enough to believe he would ever grant her such a thing, but it is a simple enough falsity to keep her happy and submissive.

“I beg your forgiveness, Master.” Elowyn whimpers, dropping to her knees with her hands clasped in her lap, “It won’t happen again.”

“Good girl. Be sure it doesn’t, or you will force me to teach you another lesson.” He drawls unenthusiastically while staring at his nails. Threatening her brings him no pleasure. He finds it all a rather tedious business. “Now, I did not come here to chitchat. Araj, tell me what you have discovered.”

Araj glares at him with her arms crossed. The Drow has much more spirit and is more arduous to keep in line than her counterpart.

“Hungry, Lord?” Araj quips and leans her head to the side with an egregious grin. “You are considerably ill-tempered today. There’s always a neck here available for the biting if you were so inclined.”

“You can offer all you wish,” he snaps, rolling his eyes. “The answer will be no until the end of time. You disgust me.”

“Such harsh words for an old friend.” Araj pouts sarcastically before launching into the excuses he’s already heard. “Your blood is not easy to work with. It’s volatile and eats through everything like caustic acid.”

“You brought me here to tell me of more failure?” He snarls, baring his teeth. He considers killing them both. Their tests have gotten him nothing and no closer to understanding what’s wrong with him, but there is at least one more answer he seeks before he can do away with them. “And the sun immunity?”

“It’s hard to say,” Araj shrugs. “Why the sudden interest in the sun resistance? I thought we were here to see what your blood may be capable of, not to waste our time trying to bottle useless effects. Why would you need a potion to make you invulnerable? You are already immune.”

“What yourself, Araj,” he growls threateningly, his brows knitting together in a fierce scowl that casts shadows over his eyes. “You are under my employ. I get to decide what’s useful to me and what isn’t. You will do as instructed.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Araj smirks. “If this is about that lovely spawn of yours, it may be prudent to allow us access to her blood.”

He’s out of his chair before Araj can blink, slamming her against the wall with one dagger to her throat and the other pressed harshly to her abdomen.

“If you touch her, I will liberate your vile innards from your body. Then, I will hunt down your family, lovers, and friends, turn them into my obedient meat puppets and let them rot away in my dungeon for eternity. She is off-limits. You are to go nowhere near her. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Araj swallows hard, her eyes wide with fear. “Perhaps you might consider an alternative? Turn Elowyn, and we can use her blood for testing instead.”

Throwing his head back, he laughs loudly, making both women jump, “You do not give the hound a bone until it has won the race. Find another way.”

He releases Araj, sheathing his daggers, and stalks away.

Araj’s voice stops him, “Elowyn tells me you’re refusing to give her more samples. We cannot run further tests without it.”

“No.” She would not want him to do this, and he has failed her enough for one day, “You will get no more samples from me until you have done as I ask. The next time you request an audience with me, you better have results, Araj, or there will be consequences.”

“Is that a threat?” Araj spits harshly.

“My dear,” he drawls nonchalantly. With a subtle movement, a dagger hurtles through the air and embeds into the wall so close to Araj’s neck that the shiny steel pets her skin. He looms over Araj, forcing her to arch her back while he hauls the dagger from the wall, “It’s a fucking promise.”

There’s an odd beauty to darkness, an inky void that obscures your surroundings and allows you to delude yourself into believing the elixir of lies you pour into your soul. In it, you can pretend, if only for a moment, that you are not a prisoner of your past and your sins are rendered null as they circle like vultures smothered by the shadows.

So, you lay in the jet-black abyss. Even as your bones begin to rue the rigid floor, and your eyes can shed no more tears, you lay unmoving.

Astarion sits beside you on the floor with his back pressed flat against the wall. He hasn’t uttered so much as a syllable since he settled there hours ago. When you look into his eyes, you see mayhem, starlight and darkness, treading the edge between diabolical and divine. He is a devil cloaked in the skin of an angel with blood dripping from his eyes, but Gods, you’ll ignite the world and walk across the hot coals of its remains if it means preserving the light in him.

You’re a warrior. When life threatens you with a battle, you will awaken every monster, every dragon, every demon that slumbers within you and answer with bloodshed.

You’ve wallowed in your self-pity long enough. A war awaits, and you intend to win it or die trying.

Crawling into his lap, Astarion wraps his arms around you. One of his hands comes to the back of your head, and his cheek presses tightly to yours as you slip your arms around his neck.

And Gods, it feels like heaven to be held in the arms of hell.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes next to your ear while he sweeps your hair away from your neck. His fingers shake as they brood over the bruised skin and gnarled, coin-sized holes that his fangs left. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

You press your hand against his, flat palm to palm. His hand dwarfs yours, “It’s okay.”

Astarion scoffs while his fingers interlock with yours, “It is most certainly not okay. I very nearly drained you dry, and who in the Hells knows what I would have done with you afterward!” His voice is unsteady, labouring beneath misery, “I will take you back to Shadowheart and Gale come morning. We can continue your lessons until you can feed yourself. Once that is accomplished, our business will be concluded, and you will never have to see me again. Freedom, as much as I am willing to grant you, is yours.”

Your eyes distend, and your brows pull down. Astarion is granting you the freedom you want. You should be happy, ecstatic even. So, why does it fill you with dread?

“Is that what you want?” You choke out, faint and tuneless, and pray to any God that hasn’t turned their back on you that his answer is not yes. “You want me to leave?”

“No, little love,” he finally answers in an eerily, delicate baritone after too many agonizing minutes of silent contemplation. “I am selfish as I always have been, perhaps even more since the Rite. Of course, I do not wish you to go, but you are not safe with me. I cannot control it. I have lost days before - days of not knowing where I had gone or what I had done.” He chuckles sarcastically, dismal and sullen, “We get what we deserve in the end, I suppose.”

Perhaps we do.

“I’m not going,” you state matter-of-factly. “Do you trust me, Astarion?”

Astarion gently draws you back to look into your eyes, sorrow dulling his expression with his lips firm in a tight line, “You may be the only person in the entirety of the cosmos that I trust implicitly.”

“Then trust that when the spark in your eyes is snuffed out, I can be your glow,” you vow, chillingly formidable. “My soul is forged in fire, and I will burn brighter than your demons and choke the darkness. I will do whatever it takes. I will always bring you home.”

“Don’t be a martyr. Do you have no sense of self-preservation?” he admonishes you with a shake of his head. “Why are you doing this?”

“Good Gods, you can be obtuse sometimes,” you roll your eyes at him. “You can stop posturing this charade of ignorance any time. I know you heard what I said to Gale.”

Astarion’s eyes drift to your hand, embraced with his, and his thumb skims up and down yours, “What if I am incapable of loving you back?”

Can’t or won’t? 

“I don’t expect you to,” you strive to keep your voice steady and casual even as your heart fractures and implodes in your chest. “Love given with the requisite of reciprocation is not love. I give it to you freely, as it always was, as it always will be. May I speak plainly?”

Astarion arches a brow, “Go on.”

“I don’t think you’re incapable of love, Astarion. I believe you’re scared of it.”

“Love is a sickness of the heart.” Astarion takes a deep breath, his voice grave. “It will hail itself your saviour but be your downfall.”

“Then...” you shrug, “down I go.”

Astarion loving you is a fantasy you’ve long relinquished. A pathetic hope that would asphyxiate you in pools of failed attempts. But wrapped in his arms, staring into scarlet eyes dusted with an ethereal radiance, a murmur begins to bite at your thoughts, quickly becoming a roar, filling your ears.

There’s that feeling again. That connection of invisible threads bridging the gap between you and the presence lingering in the back of your head that you cannot touch. It tugs at the borders of your mind with a request. No, an invitation. For the first time since it made its home in your consciousness when you reach out, it does not shy away, and you embrace it.

There’s an ear-splitting rush and a feeling of sinking. Your body jerks, trying to right itself, but Astarion holds you firmly, pulling you tighter.

“Let yourself sink,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Trust me just a little further.”

You stop fighting the feeling and plummet. Suddenly, you’re not just you any longer. You are you, and you are him simultaneously. One being in two bodies. You can feel the comfortable pressure of your body against him, and his heart beats behind your ribs.

Another abrupt drop. It makes your stomach flutter, and you’re in the bowels of a stygian doom. You feel the corruption you heard in his mind as if it were in yours, infecting your thoughts with sadistic rants and relentless chittering. You can almost taste the rancid colloquy on your tongue, and you fight the urge to retch.

A hunger longing to escape, thundering against the bars of its prison. It hums enticing promises in an absorbing, almost angelic inflection that compels you to release it, and you’re horrified to find yourself tempted.

You’re dragged away, a feeling of hurtling through time and space, not entirely unlike portal travel. His voice echoes in your mind, bellowing in your head, begging you to peer into his darkness, dance with his demons, and love him anyway.

I do, you answer, you are safe with me.

Your eyelashes flutter as you come back. You no longer hear the voices mumbling or feel that malevolent spectre with its seraphic affirmations, but you can still feel him in a way you’ve never felt before.

“I- I don’t understand,” you breathe, trying to reestablish yourself with your body, thoughts and feelings, “What was that?”

“I have always been with you.” Astarion gently taps your temple, “In here. You cannot tell me you have not felt me. I know you have because I always feel you.”

You can’t help the awe transforming your face as you continue feeling his desires, wants, and fears flowing through you as you flow through him, two stars colliding and recollecting unified.

“I thought that was just how you could compel me.”

“Well... it is,” he nods, “but there is much more to it than that.”

“Did you have this with...” You cut yourself off when you realize what you’re about to blurt out, biting your tongue so hard you draw blood.

Astarion smirks, “You know it works both ways, right?” You hear his voice in your head and only realize that it’s not him speaking when you comprehend his mouth isn’t moving, “Just because you don’t say it doesn’t mean I don’t hear it.”

Fuck. Are none of my thoughts private any longer? Did I throw open the door for the devil? 

“The devil, hm? A little harsh, don’t you think?” Astarion giggles. He must see the terror in your eyes, or Hells, does he feel it? Either way, he squeezes your hand. “Say what you were going to say,” Astarion instructs. “You might as well just say it.”

“I didn’t mean that you’re the devil!” You yelp and swallow hard, “Did you have this with Cazador?”

You wince as the name strolls off your tongue. You were never to utter that name in Astarion’s presence, and whenever you did, you paid for your carelessness. You impulsively cower, thrusting your eyes shut, magic rising in a sharp upswing.

“Easy, darling. I’m not going to hurt you. I would make a very dashing devil.” Astarion coos while rubbing your arm, “Yes and no. I felt something similar; that ubiquity rooted in my mind gave him the power to control me, but the link concluded there. This… bond, if you will, is unique to you and me.”

“Why did it not feel like this before? I can feel you, Astarion. I can feel your heart beating as if it were in my chest.” You push your palm against his shirt and let it heat slightly, and your skin starts to heat in concert, “I can feel this as if I were doing it to myself. I feel your desires, wants, and fears. Good Gods, I feel everything.”

It’s gloriously overwhelming, akin to a pleasure so intense that it borders on pain. Your nerves and synapses are overloaded as they attempt to make sense of all this information circuiting.

“I had to open the door, so to speak.” Astarion kisses your heated palm with a wolfish grin. “Tell me. What do I want, little love?”

I want you, it arises in your mind, drifting on the current between you.

“Me.” You stutter, feeling like all the breath has been sucked out of your lungs. You stare at him wide-eyed, “You want... me?”

“Until the world falls down,” he purrs tenderly with a genuine smile. “Do not worry. You are able to close and open the connection, same as I. I need not be in your head all the time. Your dirty thoughts are private if you wish, but I do hope you share.”

“Can you force the connection open?”

“Yes,” he retorts blatantly, “but I have not crossed that line, and I do not plan to, and before you ask, no, you cannot force it open. You can, however, request it simply by reaching out. Wherever I am, I will feel it.”

You rest your hand where your heart used to beat. Hells, it feels like it is beating again, but you’re feeling his. You thought you missed this sensation, but right now, you’re finding it a harsh cramp in your chest.

“Astarion, this… this is incredible.” Tears well in your eyes. He’s letting you in, and the significance of this gesture is staggering, “Thank you.”

“It is quite something, isn’t it?” Astarion takes his lips in yours, and you can feel his eagerness, his rampant desire and his enjoyment. When your tongues meet, tasting each other, you’re blown away by pleasure, yours and his mixed.

“Oh my, this will make for some very depraved carnal fun. I could read your body before, but now I can feel it. Hmm, the possibilities are titillating.” Astarion grins devilishly, “But that will have to wait. You are weak and must rest. I could find you some food if you wish. It will help you recover quicker, but it will not be of the four-legged variety.”

“Unless it’s your purple-haired hussy, I’m not interested.” You smirk. “I will make an exception on my dietary restrictions for her.”

“Oh, still positively green with envy, I see. I can feel your hatred. It’s delectable,” Astarion giggles. “My pretty consort, I do not like to see doubt cast upon your face. I told you I’ve never taken her to my bed. You need not be invidious.”

“Will you take me to your bed? I- I,” you stumble embarrassingly over your tongue. It feels cumbersome in your mouth, “I would like to rest with you tonight.”

You feel a rush of delight mixed with astoundment. Perhaps what’s more flabbergasting is that he simply lets you feel it, not attempting to camouflage or muzzle it.

“You do?” Astarion’s brows rise and curve upward, “I mean,” he clears his throat. “Of course. I can deny you nothing. You need not ask permission. You’re more than welcome to rest with me any night.”

“Well, in that case,” you smirk foxlike, “which wardrobe is mine then?”

The question only further increases the exhilaration you’re feeling ebbing from him. It’s so potent, a high so gratifying that you could get addicted to pleasing him - a dangerous notion.

“I suppose I will have to acquire you one.” Astarion chuckles and kisses your forehead, “Can you walk, or shall I carry you to bed?”

You scoff and do your best, but your muscles are still depleted of the sustenance required to function, and you wobble even with Astarion stabilizing you.

“Carry you, it is, clumsy thing.” He laughs lightheartedly while taking you into his arms. “Come, my love. Let’s go to our bed, hm?”

“Our bed,” you muse, kissing his cheek. “I do like the sound of that.”

“Me too,” he says, suddenly frighteningly serious, “Very much.”

The mattress dips as Astarion gets into bed. You’ve never really realized how enormous this damn bed is. Even with both of you lying in it, there’s so much space that it makes him feel far away, and you mourn the physicality.

A grin splits across his face, and he raises his arm, inviting you in, “I can feel that - you know, your desire to be close. No, it’s more than that. Isn’t it?” You can feel him scan the emotion, deciphering it, “It feels like a need. I suppose I should not be surprised. You never could get enough of me.”

“Astarion.” Pushing yourself close to him, you rest your head on his arm. The pads of your fingers rub the silken skin of his chest. Rest is starting to beckon you toward your trance. “What does this mean for us?”

“It can mean as little or as much as you wish it to,” his fingers meander the valley up your spine. “Nothing has to change between us, or we can… try for something more.”

As the dreamscape unfolds behind the closed lids of your eyes, your sensibility fading, you whisper, “Do you love me, Astarion?”

Emotional pandemonium tosses like waves on a rough sea. Alarm. Resentment. Dread. That proverbial portal slams closed frantically with so much force that it peppers your vision behind your eyelids white, and you lurch upward with your hand to your forehead with a howl.

It feels like a guillotine to your soul, slicing it in two. You are hollow. Your chest is still, the borrowed beat from Astarion’s heart dying. The slipstream of emotions no longer flows and combines as one enchanted ballad.

You are alone, completely incomplete, and you have never felt more dead than this moment.

“I’m sorry,” Astarion rubs your back and kisses your shoulder softly. “I did not expect it to pain you. I’m still learning. I will take heed of my haste from now on. That’s enough rooting around in my head for one day. Rest now.”

The pain ebbs, and your thoughts reform, piecing themselves back together. You lay down without a word because you’re unsure of what you can say in your state of confusion. The feelings, none of them love or even affection, but you’ve been feeling his veneration all night.

What the Hells does it all mean?

The sun-warmed stones of the courtyard thaw the icy chill of your skin as you lay under the radiant rays. The sky is full of fluffy, white clouds like unsheared sheep grazing across a cerulean plain. You thought this might make you feel as alive as when the bond between you and Astarion was open, but instead, it’s another reminder you’re a walking, talking corpse.

A feather-light breeze flutters your hair around your face and carries the smell of food, well, people but food to you, reminding you of your hunger. Those cramps in your stomach have returned, and the unquenchable thirst is parching your throat, making your tongue feel like an arid desert.

Firey orbs rotate above, and you twist them into constellations, which you often do when your mind is unsettled. Astarion said you could try for more; it sounds like fantasies made reality until you remember that he’d said he wasn’t sure he could love you. In that case, what does more even mean to him? Do you take the risk and put your heart on the table?

Everything is getting so fucking messy.

How can you tell what is genuine with him? Gale wasn’t wrong when he said Astarion knows how to manipulate you. He hardly needs to compel you because he knows what buttons to push and pull, the words to say, to get what he wants. He always has. All roads always lead back to him. Is it your heart that gravitates to Astarion, or is it something far more sinister? Are you just ingrained to be drawn to your creator? How can you know your feelings versus just an innate reflex that was planted and has taken root in your consciousness?

“What’s troubling you?” Astarion lays down beside you with an arch brow and his crimson eyes vivid in the sunlight.

“Everything,” you sigh, “Just everything.”

Astarion rolls to his side and puts his hand on your arm. He looks bothered by your answer with one brow pulled slightly down with his head cocked, “Is it something I did? You can tell me.”

“No.” The orbs start to absorb each other until there are only two remaining. You make them violently clash and burst like a firework, “You didn’t do anything. Where did you go this morning? You weren’t here when I woke up.”

“I would like to take you somewhere today.” Astarion sits and takes your hand, kissing the palm and all your fingertips, “Will you come?”

Sitting, you pull your knees to your chest, “You want to go out during the day?”

“Yes, during the day.” He purrs in a soothing baritone. “You’re safe from the sun with me. You need not hide in the manor all the time.”

“It’s not the sun, Astarion.” A lie. It’s always a little bit about the sun. That phobia is alive and well. You’re starting to wonder if it’s less of a phobia and more of some weird vampiric instinct. “It’s all the people. I’m hungry, and my control is dreadful. I can’t be trusted around them. I’m not sure how you did it.”

“Centuries of practice, love. You do quite well for a young spawn. Cazador kept us in the kennels until we could control the hunger. I was in there for many years, I think.” Astarion cocks his head, drawing his brows down as if he didn’t mean to divulge that information but continues. “You have my word; I will not put you into a situation you cannot handle.”

“Okay,” you say hesitantly, “I’ll go.”

“Splendid,” Astarion stands and hauls you up with him, “You can ride a horse, yes?”

Your brows pop up, rounding your eyes, “Me? Of course. Do you? Last I checked, you hated those beasts.”

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Astarion rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue, “I am more than capable of riding the beasts. I don’t have to like them."

“This is going to be so much fun,” you giggle. “I truly cannot wait to see this. The Vampire Ascendant on a horse. Miracles never cease!”

“Cheeky pup,” he smirks and bumps your shoulder.

It’s been a while since you’ve been in the saddle, but you settle quickly. With your feet in the stirrups and hands on the reins, the dapple-grey mare canters with a rhythmic stride. Astarion’s steed, a large jet-black gelding, keeps pace effortlessly. It’s hard to keep your eyes off Astarion. In the saddle, he attracts attention with a cut debonair form, his shoulders back, hips rolling smoothly to match his gelding’s long strides, and his hair flowing handsomely in the wind.

He catches you admiring him with your mouth dropped open and smirks with a chuckle, nodding in the direction to follow and eases his gelding into a gallop. The two horses soar over the plains outside Baldur's Gate with booming hoofbeats, manes streaming in the wind, and tails held high.

There is something so unbelievably picturesque about this moment, so familiar yet unsettling. You spent so much time travelling with Astarion across areas like this. You, him and dirt roads from dawn to dusk, but this isn’t the same man from your memories - is it? It’s getting increasingly more challenging to be mindful that Astarion may look and act, well sometimes act, like the same person you knew, but he isn’t.

He no longer becomes shy when you ask him for a kiss; gone are the awkward hugs, the way he used to mutter to himself to test what he was about to say, and the way his eyes would dart away when he said something sweet.

Now, he’s prone to blacked-out fits of violent, deadly rage and can let you burn in the sun at any moment should he choose, force himself into your mind, and take away your agency with a thought. He can turn himself into a bat, mist, and who knows what else. He said he felt his powers growing, and you have a feeling you haven’t seen the full extent of what he can do.

How many people has he killed in his blackouts? How many people has he compelled? Has he compelled you? You have yet to see other spawn, but who knows what he’s hiding.

Yet, you love him all the same - even with his demons, darkness and madness.

In these moments, when things start to feel too much like old times, you can’t help but mourn the man he was – a man you still miss.

I wonder what he would have thought of himself turning me into his spawn? 

Astarion reins his horse to a trot and guides the gelding into a dense thicket with a barely perceptible path. He twists in the saddle, “This way. It’s not far.”

The trees, smelling pleasantly of pine, are towering with thick trunks. A chorus of birdsongs flows like a river softly floating through the air. It’s easy to forget how beautiful nature can be. When was the last time you were out like this during the day?

After several minutes, the thick trees start to thin and give way to a pristine clearing with thick green grass carpeting the ground and a lake. The crystalline water looks as blue as the sky reflecting on its mirror-smooth surface.

“Here we are,” Astarion dismounts his horse. His feet land on the ground in silence; not even the snap of a twig can be heard or the crunch of his boots on the earth.

Your eyes scan the area with reverence. The colours are bright and vivid, as though painted and composed from an artist's rendering of a fairy tale. It’s been some time since you’ve seen anything of such beauty during the day. If you had breath to take away, this would surely confiscate it from your lungs. You pat the mare’s muscled neck, haul yourself up and hop off the saddle much less gracefully than Astarion.

Astarion’s hand comes to the small of your back, “This way. Come.”

He takes your hand and leads you toward thick blankets, pillows, chilled wine, flowers, and candles in a stunning presentation.

“Astarion,” you gasp, below a whisper as you take in the scene, “Did you do this?”

“Yes.” Astarion slips behind you and puts his arms around your waist, hugging you close to his chest, “I thought you might want to get out of the manor for a day.”

You lean into him, “This is beautiful. Thank you.”

“I told you I can be romantic,” he quips with a boyish smile. His cardinal red eyes are set ablaze by the sun glinting off them, “You did not believe I was capable. Before you say it because I can see it on your pretty face, yes, little love, true feelings - they were a requirement, if I recall correctly.”

Do I ruin this moment by asking about what feelings?

I must know.

“What feelings, Astarion?”

Astarion kisses your temple and coos, “My feelings for you, of course. You said you were hungry earlier. I will go find you some food.”

He’s trying to retreat from the conversation.

“No, I’m fine,” you clutch his arm, afraid that if you let him go, you might awaken from this dream. “Stay, please?”

“Are you sure? It would not take me long, and I will be sure to stay close.”

“I’m sure, please.”

“As you wish,” Astarion removes his shirt and lays on the blanket, closing his eyes and basking in the sun. “If you change your mind, you have only but to ask. I do not like letting you go hungry.”

You sit beside him and grab the wine, uncork it and drink it straight from the bottle, disregarding the glass flutes.

He opens one eye momentarily and chuckles, “Hells, I see you’re still as boorish as ever.”

“Oh, shut up,” you giggle while giving him a playful shake, “You used to love my lack of decorum.”

When you used to love me, or at least, I thought you did.

Astarion takes the bottle from you and drinks straight from it with a wink, “Who says I don’t still love it, you delinquent.”

He hands the bottle back and lies back with his eyes closed. There’s something so tranquil about him like this. You can barely believe that just a day ago, he had his hands wrapped around your neck while he tore at your throat. It feels like a distant nightmare and makes you question if it really happened.

Your fingers trace the scabbed, coin-sized holes he marred your skin with as if to prove to yourself it was real. There’s always a dull, icy throbbing in your breast as if you’re heart believes it should be beating and is trying to rival its death. Some days, the pain is easily overlooked, but right now, it feels like someone is driving barbed shards of ice through your heart with a heavy hand and thundering strikes. Bringing your hand to your chest, you put pressure on it as if that might impede the malignancy.

You need a distraction, a physical sensation on your skin that you can focus on before you try to claw your heart out, “Are there any people around here?”

Astarion listens intently for a few seconds before shaking his head, “No, there’s no one around for miles. Why?”

You swallow your anguish and give him a devious grin, “Can I swim in that water?”

He probs himself up and grins, “It’s not running. You should be fine.”

“Excellent,” you giggle, taking another big drink and handing him the bottle.

You remove your clothes and wade in, disturbing and rippling the glassy surface. Diving into it, you let yourself sink to the murky bottom. The water is cold, even to you, and nips your skin like needlepoints being dragged across your flesh. The sunless silence is serene, and you consider letting it swallow you whole, but when you open your eyes toward the surface, you can see the silhouette of Astarion standing on the bank. Bending your knees, with a push, you propel yourself to the surface, to him, because that’s what you do – is it not? You always return to him, even at your detriment.

Astarion’s eyes you regardfully with nervous scrutiny, as if he had been afraid you may never come back.

“It’s cold,” you warn him.

“That’s really not a problem,” he chuckles, relaxing his expression once he’s assessed you’re safe. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

You arch a calculating brow at him, and he rolls his eyes, “Sweetheart, get your head out of the gutter. Gods, you’re a freak sometimes.”

“Another thing you used to love about me,” you snicker while walking up to him. “What would you like to show me?”

“Used to” hm? That’s another wildly inaccurate statement,” Astarion tsks while he takes your hand and places it on his warm skin with a soft exhale and a wince that makes you smirk your “I-told-you-so” look. Slowly, his body cools until he’s as cold as you.

Your brows furrow as you place your hand on random spots of him. Icy cold everywhere. “You can control your body temperature?”

“I can do a great many things,” he chuckles with a cunning lop-sided half smile twerking one corner of his lips up, “Interesting ability, although I have found little use for it until now.”

Before you can register what he’s doing, Astarion giggles mischievously, picks you up and throws you back into the lake as if he were throwing a pebble, removes his trousers and wades in with you.

“That was rude!” You glower at him playfully and tap your chin with your finger, “Retribution may be required. I might have to get your hair wet.”

“Don’t you dare!”

With a wicked grin, you start splashing him, and he lunges toward you. By the time he’s subdued you with his arms wrapped around yours, he’s drenched, including his hair, and you’re both laughing loudly.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” he giggles. “Naughty thing.”

Laughing, you comb your fingers through his hair and muss it further, “Don’t worry, you still look earth-shatteringly dashing.”

Astarion brushes wet strands of your hair out of your eyes, “You’re a vision.” He purrs while pulling you close to him, guiding your legs around his waist.

His thumb traces your lower lip. When he takes your lips in his, the kiss is raw with emotion, demanding and primal. His finger puts gentle pressure on your chin, opening your mouth for him, and his tongue explores you with a longing groan.

Astarion abruptly breaks the kiss and stares off to the side, a million miles away. An almost startled confusion distorts his expression, which perplexes you. Have you made him uncomfortable somehow?

“Astarion,” you cradle his face with your palm, “What’s wrong?”

Astarion’s jaw clenches, and he swallows hard, making his Adam's apple bob. His eyes snap back to yours, a scarlet tempest of determination raging athwart his irises, “I think we need to talk.” 

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, I hope you enjoy this, darlings!

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

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

Small Notes:

Please note - we may end up giving Tav a name. I've been agonizing over the idea for a while because it was something I never meant to do, but my resolve is weakening haha. If you're incredibly against the idea, please let me know.

I know my portrayal of A. Astarion is a softer version - I guess I have a weak spot for an Astarion that's all-powerful but still not completely cold and horribly abusive - although, he does have his moments.

#ascended astarion #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion smut #astarion x you #bg3 #astarion #fangs and fractured hearts #astarion ancunin #astarion bg #astarion fic #astarion fluff #soft ascended astarion