#and rigel's there too i suppose

[thegreatyin]

extremely messy callie pose sketches because she's a very very very sad little catgirl and i love her dearly

#and rigel's there too i suppose #yin art #apf #somewhere along the way i accidentally on purpose made cat ears and tail canon. they werent supposed to be. i just saw the light #it's not really a permanent thing she looks like she always does she just tends to get a lil more furry with it under stress. as a treat. #everytime i draw her she gets 5% more butch. i like to think this is a reactionary evolution thing bc rigel is so skinny onceler esque twin

[cochart]

I wanted to draw this shuake comic about Orion since last year because the impending supernova speculations were kinda popular back then.

I was trying to finish and upload this in January because it’s when Orion (and Betelgeuse and Rigel) is supposed to super bright and also since it’s when this comic is set in. Well, that didn’t happen but here it is.

It’s still winter and a good time to observe Orion lol. I mean, if it’s observable here with all its pollution, it should be visible like everywhere.

Anyway, this is a comic I liked working on and have a lot of feels for. So I hope you like it too.

#p5r #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #p5r spoilers #p5r joker #ren amamiya #goro akechi #shuake

[buffyfan145]

Just watched the Netflix movie adaption of "The Tearsmith" and it was great!!! 😀 It's based off a popular Italian YA novel by Erin Doom that finally was translated to English and came out in multiple countries over the past year and done by Netflix Italy, which also makes the show I love too "The Law According to Lidia Poet", telling the story of two teens and their dark love story after they're both taken out of an orphanage they and the other kids were abused at. It is very heavy but also beautiful as Nika and Rigel find love, safety, hope, friendship, and redemption for themselves and each other. They relate their lives to the fairytale of The Tearsmith, a smith that could create crystal tears for those who can't express their emotions. The kids are led to believe Rigel is The Tearsmith but they've been lied to and hurt so much that it takes them working together to realize what really happened to them and all the lies told. I loved the imagery too of light and darkness intertwining together, Nika being a butterfly/moth drawn to Rigel's star/flames, the meanings of the color of roses and having thorns, how the princess shouldn't be attracted to the wolf but they're supposed to be together, and her necklace. Just so well done.

Also reccing both the movie and book for my fellow Haladriel shippers as this fully felt like a YA AU of them for all the reasons listed above and especially the ending. Being part Italian too I also felt connected with it for that as well.

#the tearsmith #erin doom #nika x rigel #movies #books #haladriel

[emblemxeno]

Alm and Celica’s argument at the end of Act 2 in Echoes is honestly fascinating when you think about it more cuz yeah it’s easy reading it on the surface level as a lover’s spat (hell I think even Kusakihara described it as “girl gets mad and boy has no idea why girl is upset, just like real life” which bleh) but it grants very good setup. These certain lines from each of them stick out to me most: 

Alm: Nrgh… If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was speaking to a blue blood. My station doesn’t matter, Celica. I’m here because I was called. I have a duty to perform, and I’ll perform it. No more, and no less. [...] Do you think I WANTED this fight? This all started because Lima IV went and angered the empire. If you wish to point fingers, point them at the ruler who failed his people. It’s his fault we’re in this mess.

Celica: That’s not… Well, so what if it is? Maybe you should go become king if it’s such a damnably easy job! [...] You’re awfully free with accusations for a boy with no idea what royalty entails! And now that you’re a “hero,” I imagine the throne is next on the list, is that it?

Celica directly critcizes what Alm is currently lacking as a leader, and Alm unwittingly hits one of Celica’s major insecurities. 

Alm is established as having strong ideals and unwavering views during Act 1, but his awareness of the world is incredibly shallow, not made better by how he’s so sure of how the world should be that he’s unprepared for what it actually requires of him and what it means to be a person of influence, be it an army’s commander or someone of high birth, hence why Celica brings up exactly how he’s ignorant to the kinds of burdens that royalty have to endure. That’s why his parts of Act 3 and 4 have him dealing with exactly that: it starts with his Brand being revealed to Berkut, next he gets the Royal Sword that’s supposed to be royalty only, the conversation with Clive about rescuing Delthea, him finding out Celica is a princess, dealing with killing his own father and cousin, etc. And despite it all, what he has to due is think beyond himself and for the world. He can’t focus on his sadness of losing his family right now, as the heir to Rigel’s throne his responsibility is to make sure the safety of Valentia’s people is secured. That’s the burden of royalty that he was lacking, what Celica has had since she was a kid and what she criticized him for, and the piece of the puzzle he was missing.

Celica meanwhile is established as being incredibly aware of the people around her during Act 2. She takes out pirates even thought it’s not in her mission description because she knows the people are suffering because of them, for example. However, she’s distant. She’s closed off. She knows what’s required of her as a princess, but it can seem like she’s being cold instead of responsible. And despite this, she’s still under the impression that she’s not doing enough, hence why she gets as upset as she does when Alm calls Lima a terrible king, because even though she didn’t like him whatsoever, Celica herself sees herself as a terrible princess. In response, during Act 3 and 4, this insecurity of hers gets put into overdrive. She’s helping people yes, but being Mila’s priestess and the newly revealed missing Princess of Zofia starts having her taking her burdens to extremes. She’s convinced that she has to do everything herself, and that Mila is the only way to fix things. This extreme is taken to the point where she’s too self sacrificing and closed off to the pleas of her friends and the situation right in front of her, that everyone involved gets hurt. Her piece of the puzzle that she’s missing, is the day to day perspective, and understanding that the strength of her friends can buoy her; Alm being raised as a village kid means he was set up to have this way of living woven into his character.

In short: Alm sees what’s in front of him, but needs to learn to see the bigger picture because he’s unprepared for what kind of pain being a leader brings. Celica is very aware of the bigger picture, but needs to learn to lean on her friends or else she’ll end up hurting more than just herself in trying to do things alone.

They each have what the other lacks, but are just unable to reconcile early on because they were separated for so long, hence the argument. But y’know. Hardship builds character and all that. And sometimes hardship means unknowingly killing your cousin and dad, or getting turned into a souless monster and stabbed with a sword.

#fire emblem #fire emblem echoes #fire emblem shadows of valentia #fire emblem echoes shadows of valentia #alm fire emblem #celica fire emblem #what's great is that iirc Ascended Celica's forging bonds focused on exactly this dichotomy #with how Askr just fights the problem in front of them with seemingly little regard for the big picture #now i only hope that the (hopefully) inevitable Ascended Alm's forging bonds will complement this

[smiles-ocs]

Some concepts and ideas for Castor and Ronan’s story called Starchild. Some of these are… hard to get to drawing, specifically Ronan’s younger siblings, might redesign them, but they’re all very young. Ronan left to join a crew so he could make money for them while his parents physically can’t work, and he made sure that his 12-year-old brother is very helpful. Then some random character ideas. A first mate on Castor’s pirate crew, two important characters named Rigel and Esther, castor as a young boy, and random scene ideas I have.

There’s a lot of crap I’m rambling about under the cut so go there if you want to know more about the characters, lore, and spoilers

I also have an idea of a deity or something of the sorts. It’s bascially a “Star God”, something with incredible power that was given to them from the heavens, and it is responsible for the starchildren that have shown up around the world, hence why this series is called Starchild. The whole thing around the Star God is a mystery, but people do know it exists thanks to the star children. This is a little dark but some explanation on Starchildren:

Starchildren are born every few hundred years or so, it’s unknown how often a starchild is born, but people believe that starchildren are the star god’s children, and that when they reach a certain age, they are sacrificed to deal with all the problems the world is having. They believe that if a starchild is not sacrificed, demons from hell will arrive to destroy the world. I hinted at this on my last post, but starchildren turn into strange creatures, the main one being the Leviathan. There’s also the Kraken and the other one who’s name is so complicated I’m not even going to bother with it dhskdbsk.

Long story short, the whole thing is a lie. Starchildren have incredible power when they become adults and are “awakened” as Starchildren. They remember the person that gave them that power (the Star God) and their purpose, which is watching over the people. However, centuries ago, someone in high power believed that Star children were too powerful, and out of fear, he came up with an excuse to kill starchildren before they grew too powerful, because no one should be more powerful than him. So they killed starchildren when they were young and weak, hiding behind the excuse of it being a sacrifice to the world or something, using the blood to cleanse the world and keep the demons at bay. That way, if the starchildren escape, and inevitably take on the role of “deities”, people will believe that the demons have arrived to punish them for failing, and will try to kill the awakened starchildren.

Starchildren cannot escape their fate, however, because they cannot hide unless they are far away from people. They have blue hair that shines in the darkest fog, blue hair that cannot be hidden, and a star birthmark somewhere.

I suppose there’s no reason to hide this now, but Castor is the starchild of this era, originally called Orion, but he changed his name for safety. He ran away when he learned that he was going to die, trying to escape on a boat. The people almost caught him, but the kraken appeared, seemingly saving his life. As Castor tried to hide from people, he tried to hide his blue hair, but it constantly shines through whatever he hid it in. The best he could do was to wrap it up and put a thick hat on, which helped, but even so, you can see in his wrapping the blue hair. He tried to dye it, hide it in mud, even shaving it, but the blue cannot be covered up, so hiding in plain sight was nearly impossible to him. He left to sea to avoid people, but accidentally became captain of the pirate crew. He’s a very jaded man who is intimidating and skilled in sword fighting. People respect him as a captain, so he is in high status on his ship (obviously 💀). Problem is, there is a very, VERY high bounty on the star child’s head, so even the most loyal crew members may turn on him if he is found out.

Castor trusts no one, but he seems to have a soft spot for Ronan for some reason. Even when he eventually finds out that he is the starchild, he can’t bring himself to kill him. He’s just a boy…

Obviously, Esther and Rigel are starchildren as well. Rigel is an ancient starchild, who lived a good life before the starchildren sacrifices. He roams the ocean, punishing anyone who threatens the innocent or disrespects the ocean. There were a lot of starchildren too, but the creatures of starchildren were hunted and killed, leaving Rigel, Esther, and Castor the last three starchildren. Esther was a starchild who escaped the sacrifice, who is far more cruel and jaded than Castor, and when Castor is “awakened”, she goes after him to use him to punish everyone.

Rigel is that turtle Whale island thing, Esther is the kraken, and Castor turns into the Leviathan.

The star god is no benevolent being, and is not a god at all. He’s a regular human who got magic from some meteorite, idk, there doesn’t need to be any specifics lol, and he grew immensely powerful. He resides away from the ocean, but he is not a good person. He’s greedy, selfish, and does nothing to help the innocent starchildren he “created”. He would love to have the starchildren to do his bidding, but if they die, it’s no matter, cuz he doesn’t need them. Idk maybe he’s not greedy lol. Either way the star god is not a good person, but I kinda want the star god’s role to be similar to Davy Jones in pirates of the Caribbean. There must always be a star god.

Anyways I hope that all makes sense 💀💀 Ronan is just there, being roped up into this nonsense, but he’s a good boy with a good heart and wants to help the starchildren, and he and Castor grow close.

#this was supposed to be a simple post but I DUMPED all that lore on you lol #I mean… at least the lore is easy to explain #unlike Clover’s story good GRIEF #my brother asked why his story is called ‘golden clover’ and I couldn’t begin to explain it 💀💀💀 #it’s so complex #but I’m proud of it #this story is easier to explain tho and I like it a lot! #I felt weird combining the ocean and stars together #but idk they’re kinda connected in a way you know? #space and the ocean are very mysterious and unexplored #but space is more explored and more safe to travel through lol #but regardless there’s a lot of similarities between the two so maybe it’s not weird to combine them #poor Ronan will struggle through a moral dilemma through a lot of this #Esther is an interesting character so I’m hoping to explore her more #ocs #original characters #starchild

[embercl]

Hyper fixated for too long -

Working on a Sundrop Flele SSP (a music player Ghost/desktop buddy) do I remember how to code any of this-no, will Sun move his mouth like Flele’s are supposed to-no. But the idea of being able to have him decked out in stickers and other ‘costumes’ is too fun not to at least try.

Being cheered on by Rigel helps~! If you haven’t already go check out @logicpng precious desktop buddy.

———————

Side note! If your running my little shimeji trouble makers they will try to steal Asters chat bubbles! Tho they usually only drag them down a little…

[spacesquidlings]

The Babysitter Is A Vampire Chapter 3: Bed Time Stories and Embroidery

Summary: As the last of the day gives way to night, finally bed time arrives for the children, although peace and quiet is not yet guaranteed.

Pairing: Astarion x Female Tav (Aspen)

Warnings: Some slight implied suggestive comments, nothing overt though by any means

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

*********************************************************

With the bathroom otherwise occupied, Astarion made use of the kitchen, heating up water in the small fireplace covered in cinders in the corner. Aisling stood off to one side, forlorn, not even a glimmer of the hellion he’d first met hours ago.

“As fond as I am of pouting,” he called, grunting as he lifted the pot filled with water from where it hung above the fire. “I do not think it will be of much help right now.”

She sniffled, staring at where Rigel had been unceremoniously dumped next to a small washbasin on the table, amber liquid still pooling beneath him. “She hates me.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Willow was having a tantrum, her emotions boiling over so she could not think clearly, could not do anything. They were too big for her body, and that was something Astarion could understand. Something he could empathize with.

His circumstances and Willow’s were, of course, vastly different, but still he could understand. And even a tantrum over something as small as a ruined toy and spilled tea deserved space to work through her feelings, deserved support and gentleness.

He wished he’d had gentleness when he was young, he would not deny it to these children now.

He wondered if Aspen would be proud of him, and he made a note to himself to ask later. Anything to see her smile, to earn one of her sweet, chaste kisses.

With a huff, he poured the steaming water from the pot into the washbasin, wincing as it splashed against his shirt. He did not have a spare, so he would have to hope it dried quickly.

Aisling crept closer, perching on a chair beside him and staring down into the wavering water. “What do we do now?”

He plucked Rigel from where he had been left, dunking him into the water. “Now, my dear, we wash him.”

“Don’t we need soap for that?”

It took every ounce of self control he had not to release the poetic swear that bubbled in the back of his throat.

Of course they needed soap, and of course he had forgotten it.

Stumbling to cover himself for his heedlessness, her arched a brow. “Didn’t I ask you to get the soap?”

She stiffened, even as accusation lay heavy in her voice. “No, you didn’t.”

“I think I did.”

“You didn’t!”

He smirked, lifting his hands from the basin and flicking the water away. “Darling, we could stand here all night and argue. But why don’t you be a doll and get me the soap? Then we can do this together.”

Aisling looked like she was on the verge of arguing, some of her devilishness returning to her. But it was gone just as quickly as she eyed the basin and Rigel looking miserable as the water turned murky from the tea.

She grumbled was sounded like an “okay” before hopping from the chair and rummaging around the kitchen until she found a bar of soap.

“Thank you darling, you’ve been most helpful,” he cooed, snatching it up from her and returning his attention to the stuffed wolf.

He’d learned to clean and stitch and embroider over the years, struggling to keep his mouldering clothing intact and beautiful. He’d never thought he would be using the skills he’d honed to clean up a well-loved toy, and yet here he was.

He supposed he hadn’t anticipated everything that had happened to him recently, either, but he was glad for it. Glad for the sudden turn his life had taken, for the chance to live again.

The heat from the water turned his skin pink, then red, as he scrubbed at the toy, ringing out the liquid as best he could before dunking it again and scrubbing it more. The bar of soap was slippery, and more than once it slipped from his grip, careening halfway across the kitchen. Aisling retrieved it for him, a devoted assistant as they worked to fix her small mistake.

The water cooled much quicker than he had anticipated, and still Rigel’s fur was stained.

“What are we gonna do?!” Aisling whined, defeated as she lifted the sopping wet toy, suds still clinging to his fur. “I’ve ruined him forever!”

“He’s not ruined.” Astarion took the toy from her hand, ringing it once more before setting it on the table. “I’ll heat some more water. The tea just stains easily, but it’s nothing we can’t get out.”

He’d only just lifted the basin to dump it outside when two sets of footsteps raced down the stairs, a familiar voice calling to slow down, to wait!

Willow burst into the kitchen first, water gleaming on her face and arms, the collar and shoulders of her nightgown already soaked from her wet hair. “Star!”

He nearly lost his grip on the basin, tea-stained water sloshing over the edge and onto his shoes.

He huffed a laugh as she beamed up at him, unable to curse at himself as soundly as he would have liked for soaking his shoes. “Feeling better, are we?”

Willow’s smile only grew wider as her hands flapped at her sides. “Miss Aspen used pretty smelling soap for me! Just like a princess!”

Astarion couldn’t help smiling, as delighted by Willow’s smile as she was by the soap. Aspen must have raided their things and taken some of his oils and her flowery soaps.

Had it been anyone else he would have been annoyed, but he could not fault her for it. Not when Willow was smiling so widely, not a trace of her earlier misery to be seen.

He considered using some of his oils to make Rigel smell a little better, once he got the last of the stains cleaned away. If using flowery soaps made Willow this happy, surely she would love it if her wolf smelled as nice.

Aspen appeared a moment later, face red, heaving as if out of breath. “Willow. I told you not to run!”

“But I wanted to come tell Star!”

Astarion blinked. “And am I this renowned Star?”

Aspen’s smile turned wry. “Who else would it be?”

“Well my darling, you do always outshine the stars.”

Colour bloomed in her cheeks, the soft pink of a peony unfurling towards the sun. She looked like she wanted to say something, but the words would not come.

“I didn’t realize it would be so easy to render you speechless, darling.” He couldn’t help teasing her, not as the pink of her cheeks turned to a burning crimson, her brow twitching in ire.

She looked like she was on the verge of throwing something at him, and he laughed, setting the basin to the side and gathering her in his arms. “I don’t think I will ever get tired of this expression.”

“Astarion, you are so lucky-”

“I am lucky,” he sang, cutting her off and earning a dark glare. “I am so terribly lucky to have you in my life, my love. What would I do without your light?”

He could practically hear the sound of her grinding teeth, her eyes sharp as daggers. “Still nothing to say, my darling? Well don’t hurt yourself, I would hate for you to be injured on my account.”

“Uh, excuuuse me!”

Astarion was saved from whatever scathing retort was brewing in Aspen’s mind by Willow, who was waving her hands impatiently. “What is it, dear?”

“Can you braid my hair?” She stared up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

Aspen coughed, her brow quirking. “What else?”

Willow clasped her hands together. “Please?”

“Well how can I say no to that?” He released Aspen, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “If that’s alright with you, my love?”

She nodded. “I can take over cleaning duty with Aisling.”

“Excellent.” He crouched, ruffling Willow’s hair. “Why don’t you show me where you keep your hair things.”

Willow scampered off, seeming happier than she’d been even when they’d first met.

“She’s looking better.”

Aspen nodded, her eyes soft, her hands gentle as they reached up to smooth his curls. “She’s feeling better. We had a talk, but I don’t think she’s completely better yet.”

“She’s still angry?”

Her expression fell. “A little. But she kept asking for you, and she was very excited to tell you about the soaps.”

The warmth of her breath brushed against his skin as he stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. “You used my oils, didn’t you?”

Refusing to meet his gaze, she answered. “Perhaps a drop.”

“Darling, my nose works perfectly fine. I can tell it was more than a drop.”

She lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry, I should have asked. She’d said she liked pretty smelling things, and I’d thought they would make her happy.”

“Nonsense.” Astarion took her chin in his hand, lifting her head until their eyes met. “I’m quite glad you did. I hadn’t known it would be so easy to delight a child.”

She giggled, her face still flushed so sweetly. “The strangest things make them happy.”

“At least we know she has excellent taste.”

“Well she adores you, so we already knew that.”

Now Astarion was flushing, and he looked away as heat bloomed in his face. It was subtle, little more than the rush of warmth he felt when he fed, but it was there all the same, clinging to his cheeks as Aspen beamed wider and wider.

“Oh please, it’s only because I’m someone new. She’ll grow tired of me quickly.”

“I didn’t grow tired of you,” Aspen said. “I only knew you for a very short time before knowing I wanted to spend my life with you.”

He ducked his head, staring furiously at the ground, at the puddle of water he was standing in.

“Astarion.”

He looked up without thinking at his voice on her tongue, finding her eyes watching him, the crescent moon of her smile soft. “I know words do not always mean much, but I hope you know that when I say them to you, they do. I’m not trying to trick you, or con you, or manipulate you into my bed.”

He gave a dry chuckle. “You don’t have to manipulate me for that, my darling. I share your bed gladly.”

“Astarion.” She said his name more like a sigh this time, rolling her eyes. “I’m trying to be serious.”

“So am I.”

She didn’t speak this time, only glowering.

He pressed the pad of his thumb against the space between her brows, smoothing the lines there. “Careful, darling, you don’t want your pretty face to get stuck this way.”

Closing her eyes, she sighed. “I’m going to ignore that.”

“I mean you certainly can. I will think you’re beautiful even when you’re a wrinkled crone, but perhaps it’s best not to hasten that process.”

“Astarion!” Her eyes snapped open, her mouth falling open.

He lifted his hands in surrender, chuckling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think you are.”

“Well I am a little.” He cupped her face, bringing it close. “I did mean it, though. You will be beautiful in my eyes. Forever.”

He could feel the flutter of her lashes against his skin. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me? Adore me?”

“I do love you,” she said, laughing. “And I mean it. I love you, Astarion.”

Her hands covered his, their fingers, threading together. “And I mean it when I say that little girl adores you, too.”

He had nothing to say to that, his words failing him.

Luckily, he did not need to come up with anything to say, because Aisling filled the silence before Aspen could begin teasing him, her little voice dripping with disgust.

“You two are gross.”

Aspen whirled around, kneeling so she was eye-level with Aisling. “Yes, well it’s these gross people who are going to help you win back your friendship with Willow.”

Aisling huffed, her hands turning to fists at her side. “Fine! But stop being gross!”

“We will not,” Astarion said, grinning as the little girl scowled.

It was right at that moment that Willow returned, stomping her feet, stopping him from teasing Aisling any further. “Star! You said you’d braid my hair!”

“Yes, I’m coming dear,” he called. He squeezed Aspen’s shoulder before taking Willow’s outstretched hand, letting her think she was yanking him up the stairs.

“Can you do it in two braids?” She asked, skipping up the steps. “I like it that way best.”

“Yes, I think I can manage two pigtails, darling.”

She led him to what he assumed was the shared bedroom, a handful of beds lining the walls. Some of the other children were already there, gathered on beds and whispering in low voices, or flipping idly through worn books.

Willow released Astarion’s hand, diving under one of the beds, surfacing moments later with a wooden box covered in pink and purple stars and hearts, their paint beginning to flake.

Opening it revealed a trove of childish treasures. Shiny rocks and pieces of quartz, dried daisy chains that looked like they would disintegrate if they were moved, little wooden peg dolls with cheery smiles and colourful dresses painted on their round bodies. And tucked to the side was Willow’s hairbrush and comb, small elastics and pink ribbons piled on top of them.

“Ta-da!” She sang, gesturing to the box. “Do you like it?!”

“It’s marvelous, my dear,” he cooed, taking out the brush and comb. “Now why don’t you get comfy so I can do your hair, alright?”

She nodded, sitting on her bed and crossing her legs so her back was to him. Astarion perched behind her, taking a few locks of her damp hair in one hand and beginning to run the comb through it.

“Let me know if you feel any tugging or anything hurts, alright?” There were far more knots in her hair than he had anticipated, and he didn’t want to hurt her. He’d become quite skilled at twisting and styling Aspen’s hair, but she kept her hair much shorter than Willow’s, and she brushed her hair regularly enough that it was rare for him to find a tangle in it.

Yet despite all that he managed to comb through Willow’s hair without issue. He ran his fingers down each section of hair he took, checking for knots, before painstakingly combing them out, making sure not to tug too hard or yank her hair.

In no time at all he had combed through her hair, and it lay in silky waves down her back and over her shoulders.

“You know,” he began, plucking two elastics from the box. “Your hair has a little wave to it.”

She spun around, her eyes round. “Really? Like a mermaid?!”

He chuckled, taking her shoulders and turning her back around. “Yes, just like a mermaid.”

“I want to meet a mermaid.”

“Maybe one day you will.”

He separated her hair into two sections, tying one section off in a pigtail so he could begin work on the first braid. “If you leave these braids in overnight and then take them down, I bet your hair will be even more wavy.”

She squealed, wiggling. “Even more like a mermaid.”

He chuckled, biting down on the second elastic as he began to wave her hair into a fishtail braid. Willow babbled on about mermaids, about how sometimes when the weather was very nice they were taken to a pretty lake where her and the others played mermaid. She told him that her mermaid tail would be pink, but that if he was a mermaid it would be silver like the stars.

It made him smile, and he murmured a soft thank you, because that sounded very pretty, and of course he had to be the prettiest of all the mermaids.

He was nearly done with the first braid, reaching the end of her hair, when the other girls came up to them, perching on the other side of Willow’s bed.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked, crawling behind him to peek over his shoulder.

He arched a brow, speaking around the elastic between his teeth. “What does it look like? Braiding her hair.”

“Can you do mine next?”

“And mine?”

“Me too, me too!”

He took the elastic from his teeth, tying off the end of the first braid. “I’m doing Willow’s hair first.”

A chorus of whines rose up, some of the girls bouncing on the bed in protest.

“Have you all gotten ready for bed like Aspen said?”

“Yes!” The sound of their voices resounded through the room.

“And you cleaned up all the plates and everything?”

He didn’t even know why he was checking with them, but it felt like perhaps the right thing to ask the group of unruly children.

Another chorus of “yes” rang out, and he nodded his head, biting back a smile at their enthusiasm.

“Okay. Then once I’m done with Willow’s hair I can do everyone else’s.”

He made sure to take his time on the second braid, some of the earlier calm returning now that the children had what they wanted. He braided her hair tightly, so she would have the prettiest waves when she took the braids out the following day.

Once he was done he plucked two soft pink ribbons from her box, tying little bows over the elastics with a flourish.

“There we are,” he announced. “Pretty as a mermaid princess.”

He didn’t expect the smile she greeted him with, nor did he expect her to throw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly as she pressed her face against his shoulder. “Thank you! Thank you, Star!”

Chuckling, he returned her embrace, his heart aching terribly as her little hands clutched him.

Then, just as quickly as she’d launched herself towards him, she sprinted away, wanting to show off her braids to the other girls.

After that, Astarion spent what felt like an hour working on all of their hair, combing and braiding and tying ribbons into the girls’ hair.

He was struggling to finish Ellie’s hair, the child refusing to sit still for more than a few seconds, when Aisling bolted into the room, Aspen at her heels.

“What are you doing?!” She shouted, pointing to Astarion.

He sighed, not responding until he finally finished Ellie’s braid and removed the elastic from his mouth to tie it off. “It seems I’ve become everyone’s hairdresser.”

“What?”

“I’m braiding their hair, dear.”

Aisling danced awkwardly from foot-to-foot, looking sheepish. “Could you braid mine, too?”

Behind her, Aspen was gathering the girls’ who were not waiting for their braids, telling them she would read them a story before bed.

“Of course, my dear,” he sang, sending Ellie on her way with matching green ribbons. “Go fetch me your brush and your favourite ribbons.”

She had only just settled before him, her hair a veritable mess. It had been in braids earlier in the day, but at some point she must have torn them out, because now her hair fell in thick, tangled waves down her back.

He hummed, gathering up the hair near her temple, when Willow came up to them, ringing her hands.

“Aisling?”

Aisling tensed, her face paling. “Yes?”

“I don’t hate you,” Willow murmured, tugging at one of her braids. “I’m sorry for saying that.”

Aisling blinked. “Does that mean we’re friends again?”

“Please?” Willow clutched her hands to her chest. “I forgive you for spilling on Rigel and I’m sorry for being upset. I wanna be friends again.”

Aisling’s expression brightened, and she nodded furiously. “Okay! Oh, and I forgive you, too!”

And just like that everything was better, the rift between the children healed. Astarion caught Aspen spying on them, her expression so soft it made him ache, watching as the children made up before Willow scampered off again.

He finished up Aisling’s hair and sent her running to the circle of children gathered around Aspen, her braids bouncing behind her as she curled into a spot next to Willow. His hands ached, and his back hurt from hunching over for so long, dull pain rippling down his spine and out towards his sides as he stood. 

It made him resolve to whine about it to Aspen. He’d worked so very hard, and he certainly deserved a reward for his efforts. He’d braided all of the girls’ hair, and he’d helped with cleaning up Rigel.

He planned to creep from the room as the children all dispersed as Aspen finished up her story, making their way to their beds to be tucked in. He’d even made it to the door before a little hand tugged at his sleeve, drawing him back into the room.

“Star?” Willow peered up at him, her head tipped all the way back to find his eyes. “Will you read me a story?”

“Didn’t Aspen just read you one?” He gave her head a pat, wondering if she was feeling clingy because she was missing her toy.

She pouted, looking on the verge of summoning false tears. “She did, but I want you to read me one.”

Sighing, Astarion ran a hand through his hair. “Listen-”

“Please?”

Her sad expression gave him no space to argue, and it was with a resigned “alright” that he let himself be dragged back into the room.

Aspen was watching him from where she was tucking in one of the children, her eyes bright, her smile equal parts mischievous and delighted. He rolled his eyes, trying to make himself look as unenthused as he possibly could.

Her smile only grew wider, her eyes sharp with knowing, and Astarion knew he’d been had. There wasn’t any point in keeping up the charade any longer, and he let his annoyed expression drop as Willow began rifling through a stack of books against the far wall.

“Dis one please!” She announced, swinging a wide book with a sparkly pink cover at him.

“And what do we have here?” He asked, inspecting the glittering covering, taking in the cartoonish drawings of a girl in a magnificent, if somewhat gaudy, gown and a moon with a serene smile.

“It’s my favourite!” She sang, curling into her blankets. “It’s about a princess and her best friend, the moon!”

The plot sounded contrived at best, but Astarion would humour her. She was smiling so widely, and she looked so delighted as he flicked to the first page and cleared his throat, that he could not find it in himself to whine.

His assessment of the story had been correct, with the plot making little sense, all of it based around pink sparkles and moon magic and talking stars. And yet Willow was enamoured, her hands twisting into her blankets as she listened raptly. The girls in the beds closest to them, Rose and Marie, rolled over to face them, listening in as well.

Astarion couldn’t help fearing for the state of literacy in the land if this story was what passed for literature nowadays. It was fifty pages at the most, each page nearly drowning in the technicolour the drawings had been styled in. He had to lift the book after reading each page, turning it slowly so everyone listening in could see the pictures before he could continue, the children more delighted by the art than the story itself.

Yet, then again, they were only small, their lives only just beginning, like buds of a flower not yet bloomed. It made sense that their stories would be more simple, more fantastical. And there was surely a place for the fantastical, wasn’t there?

Aspen was like something out of these storybooks, wielding glittering magic that had turned his life upside down. She had given him light, even though he was still bound to the shadows.

The book was still silly, but he could appreciate it at least. And he could appreciate the content smile on Willow’s face as he finished it and closed the cover.

“Can you read another one?” She kicked her feet, pouting again. “Please?”

He snorted, patting her cheek. “Nice try, darling. You’ve gotten two stories tonight, but I think it’s time you went to sleep now.”

“Aaaah.”

“Consider this,” he said, tapping her nose. “The sooner you fall asleep, the sooner it will be tomorrow, when you’ll be reunited with Rigel.”

“He’ll be all better?”

“He’ll be even better than new.”

She giggled. “Okay. Goodnight, Star.”

He smoothed back her hair, lingering for a moment before whispering, “Goodnight, Willow.”

Astarion’s second attempt to depart was met with more success as he crept from the darkened room, wincing as aging floorboards creaked beneath his feet. But still he managed to cross the dark sea of shadows the room had become, emerging on the other side to find Aspen leaning against the wall, smirking at him.

“Have you missed me, my darling?” He ran a hand over his shirt to smooth out the creases, trying to ignore the ache in his chest. It had settled there like a sleeping beast, heavy and warm, with no chance of being chased away anytime soon.

She came towards him, taking his hands and holding them to her chest. “Of course I have.”

“And what is that smirk for?”

“Oh nothing,” she sang, her smile widening. “I just thought it was rather sweet how you read to Willow.”

“I can be sweet.” He pouted, leaning forward to brush a kiss to the corner of her lips. “See? Wasn’t that sweet?”

“Oh the sweetest,” she laughed, stroking the backs of his hands with her thumbs. “My teeth ache from your sweetness, my love.”

It was Aspen who was sweet, and he liked to imagine that all the sugary confections with their whipped frostings and sweetened fillings and candied fruits tasted like her kisses, like her smiles as he caught her lips with his.

But he did so love to be complimented, and he loved it most when it came from her.

“It seems we make a perfect pair then,” he teased. “You, a lover of all things sweet. And me, the sweetest of all things.”

She laughed, heartily, the sound warm as it billowed up from deep within her heart. “I kind of love the sound of that.”

“Oh?” He wriggled one hand free to tap against her cheek. “I’m sure I could come up with much more clever things to say if they’ll make you laugh.”

Another snort, her smile turning wry. “You’re being terribly generous with your kind words today, love.”

He relished in the warmth of her touch, in being close to her once more now that the day was spent. He couldn’t have resisted swaying towards her, even if he’d tried. To be close to her was a gift, and he leaned near as he continued to tease her. “I am nothing if not generous and kind.”

She laughed again. He hadn’t realized he could make someone laugh so brightly, so genuinely, as he did Aspen. Before her laughter had been cold titters, callous sounds that grated against his ears, like nails digging into his skin as they were breathed against him.

But she laughed like sunshine, at the strangest of things. She laughed when he said the smallest of jokes, when he rolled his eyes as he feigned annoyance. She even laughed at her own jokes, and although they were rarely that funny, it made him smile too.

“Perhaps we should head back downstairs,” she said, covering her mouth even as her shoulders still trembled from the stray giggle. “I fear if we keep standing here we’ll keep the children up.”

“Oh thank the gods,” he breathed, slumping against her shoulder, earning another bout of laughter. He grinned as he pressed his face against her neck. “Can we please? My legs are killing me.”

She patted his head, snorting. “Yes, yes, let’s go you big baby.”

“Thank you, my darling.” He nuzzled his face against her throat, smirking as she shivered. “You are too kind to me.”

“I am,” she agreed, an arm looping around his waist. “Now, do you think your legs can make it down the stairs? I don’t think I’m going to be able to carry you.”

“If I must.” He pressed a chaste kiss to the spot above where her pulse thrummed before straightening. “But you will owe me for it.”

“Astarion when have I ever been able to carry you?”

He shrugged. “You spent the evening carting those babies around. Perhaps you’ve put on some muscle.”

She frowned. “Request denied, I’m owing you no favours.”

She made to step away, but he did not let her get far before capturing her around the waist and collapsing against her once more. “But darling, it’s something I need terribly.”

“I already give you my blood!”

“Not that.” He rolled his eyes before fluttering his lashes, peeking up at her as demurely as he could. “It’s something else.”

It was the sound of her sigh that told him that he’d won. There was very little she would say no to when he requested it, although some days she liked to put up a little bit of a fight.

It was adorable, and he loved to poke and tease her until she finally gave in.

“How terribly?”

“The most terribly.”

“Fine,” she conceded. “What are your demands?”

He could not hold back his smile, not even as he continued to bat his lashes as though he were innocent. “Would you massage my hands? They ache after braiding all the girls’ hair.”

She huffed. “And?”

“And my back too, if you could be so kind.” He was pushing his luck now and he knew it. But it was also an excuse to be closer to her, to be held by her. 

She would hold him against her chest and run her hands down his back, massaging anywhere that ached. She had no great skill in massaging, but it was her touch he craved, her closeness. She always did it with such love, with such gentleness, her hands and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat a balm to his own heart.

“I suppose I can do that,” she muttered, eyes narrowed. “Anything else?”

At that he straightened, tapping his cheek idly. “A kiss? As a reward for all my hard work?”

She didn’t hesitate, leaning forward to brush her lips against his cheek. “You never need to ask for one of those. I give them to you gladly.”

He pouted a little, tapping his lips. “Darling.”

She rolled her eyes, but still she leaned forward, one hand falling to his chest as their lips met. He caught her then, twisting one of his hands in her hair, tipping his head to the side to kiss her deeper.

Aspen gasped, but then she melted, nestling into his embrace. He could feel her smile against his lips, feel the murmurations of her quiet humming.

He held her tightly for a few more moments, only releasing her when he knew she needed air.

“Now then,” he said, grinning at the sunset pink of her cheeks and the bruised red her lips had become. “Lead the way downstairs, my darling.”

She blinked, her eyes glassy and wide, her lips parting in a small o.

“Or perhaps I should be the one to lead.” He beamed, taking her hand and tugging her towards the stairs. 

He watched as reason slowly returned to her, the dumbstruck expression on her face replaced with ire, the glossiness of her eyes turning sharp as she levelled a glare on him.

“Astarion.”

“Yes, my love?”

He could practically hear her teeth grinding together. “You’re such a little shit.”

“Not the kind of compliment I’m used to, but I’ll take it.” She rolled her eyes, the colour in her cheeks flaring brighter, deeper. “That kiss must have been utterly enchanting.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she huffed, turning her head away.

“Yet you’re such a mess.” His cheeks hurt from how widely he was smiling, from how much he was smiling, but he could not stop himself. Did not want to.

“I am not.”

With her attention focused on quite literally anything but him, it was easy enough for Astarion to reach out and pinch her side. “Don’t be cross, my darling. I only wanted a kiss.”

She tried to brush his hand away, but he only pinched her again, earning a yelp and an utterly murderous glare.

“I could kiss you again, if that would cheer you up.” The breath she drew in was sharp, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. She looked tense, like she was holding herself together by fraying threads, the flush in her cheeks spreading down her throat, reaching below the collar of her shirt.

He leaned closer, snaking an arm around her waist so she was pressed close. “Or perhaps,” he breathed against her ear. “There is something else I could do to lift your spirits.”

She tensed further, a strangled gasp escaping her lips. “Astarion.”

He hummed, nipping her ear. “I do so love how you say my name. When we are both spent, it will be the only thing you will remember how to say.”

With a strangled groan, Aspen wrenched herself free, putting space between them as she descended the remaining stairs. She really did look like a mess, her hair askew, her chest heaving. Her face was a deep crimson, her eyes dancing like the flicker of flames. “You can be such a villain.”

“My darling, you are overflowing with compliments for me today.” He followed behind her, pausing on the step above where she stood, giving her his most mischievous grin. “I’m touched by your kindness. I suppose I will need to think of some way to return your affection, to show you just how much I adore you.”

“There’s no time for messing around.” Her voice cracked, like dried kindling beneath embers that would ignite into a blaze. It was far too easy to fluster her, and it delighted him to no end. “We have to finish fixing that toy.”

He ran a hand through his hair, feigning annoyance. “I suppose we can continue being altruistic for the sake of these children.”

“Oh please.” Her agitation was fading, and she looked far less tense as she rolled her eyes. “Don’t pretend like you don’t care on my account. I saw how easily you caved when Willow asked you to read her another story.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I fear I’ve been had.”

“You’ve been had from the moment that child introduced you to her stuffed wolf,” Aspen teased, poking his chest playfully.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged, mischief in her eyes. “Only that I suspect your heart is much softer and sweeter than you think.”

Sighing, he stepped down so they both stood on the ground, taking the hand still poking his chest and holding it above his heart. “If my heart is soft it is only because of you, my love.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” she murmured, her eyes searching his, her free hand reaching up to ghost over his curls. “I think your heart has always been soft and sweet.”

“Well you would know, wouldn’t you?” He wasn’t teasing her now, not really. In truth it made his heart warm, made him feel alive, to hear her say such things. To know that in her eyes he was good; she knew of the gory details of his past, of all the terrible and sordid things he had done, and she saw someone precious anyways.

Her hand slid down the side of his face, pausing only to cradle his cheek in her palm. “I would. I fear I may get cavities if I kiss you too frequently.”

He chuckled, bringing her hand to his lips, brushing kisses to her fingertips. “We wouldn’t want that.”

“It’s worth the risk.” She leaned close, kissing the corners of his lips.

He would have gladly stayed like that for ages, but there were things they needed to do still. Namely, finding a place to sit and fixing up Willow’s stuffed wolf.

He closed his eyes, resigned to their tasks. “We have to finish cleaning up that toy, don’t we?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” she teased, stroking his cheek. “I’m sure the orphanage will have relief for us soon, and we can be on our way to find somewhere to rest.”

The reminder that they would likely very soon be on their way was like cold water sluicing over him.

Something must have shown on his face because Aspen’s smile fell, her brow creasing with worry. “What’s wrong, love?”

He covered her hand with his, trying to reassure her, trying to reassure himself. “It’s nothing, I’m just feeling a bit tired.”

They had only been here for a few hours, he had no reason to be upset at the thought of leaving. The children likely would not even remember them once they absconded.

Aspen looked like she didn’t believe him in the slightest, but she didn’t press for more details. Instead, she only began making her way back to the kitchen, letting him know she’d finished cleaning the stains from Rigel.

Upon entering the kitchen, they found Rigel balanced on a rack near the fire, already nearly dry.

“He looks good,” Astarion murmured, inspecting the toy. “Although there’s some tears, and it looks like the stuffing is coming out from the legs.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “I saw that. I tried to stitch up one of his legs, but…” She trailed off, scratching her nose. “I am not exactly skilled in the art of sewing.”

Humming, he turned the toy over, noticing the rough, jagged stitches that had clearly only just been added in. He could recognize that poor handiwork anywhere; he was all too familiar with Aspen’s attempts at sewing up tears and cobbling worn clothes together from all the times she’d tried to fix her clothes after they’d been ripped in battles. Her precious stuffed bear that she kept tucked away in her pack was riddled with similar stitches, the poor thing coming apart after years of being clutched in her arms each night.

“A valiant effort, darling,” he said, arching a brow as he looked back at her. “But I think you are much more skilled at other endeavours.”

She huffed, pouting as she crossed her arms. “I did my best.”

“Yes, well I think you need a bit more practice, my dear.”

Another huff, her brow furrowing. “I tried.”

He stood, holding the toy in one hand and reaching towards her with the other. “And you made a magnificent effort. But why don’t you show me where the needle and thread is, and I can manage the rest?”

Aspen sighed, turning to rummage through some of the drawers until she produced a small pin-cushion crowded with needles, and a few rolls of multicoloured thread.

He plucked them from her hands with a flourish, dropping a kiss to her cheek so she would smile once more. “Thank you, my darling. Now, why don’t we retire somewhere a bit more comfortable while I work on this?”

‘Somewhere’ ended up being a small sitting room just to the side of the playroom. Aspen had used it for Aisling’s time-out earlier, and although the fire was little more than embers, the room remained warm.

It was easy to rekindle the flames, and to light a number of the candles that were piled on a desk in the corner of the room, giving the room a golden cheeriness it had not had moments before.

Astarion settled against the cushions of a low couch that was pressed against the wall across from the fireplace, sighing as he stretched out his legs. “I feel much better already.”

“I’m glad.” Aspen perched on the other side of the couch, folding her hands in her lap. “Thank you, for agreeing to this endeavour. I’m sure you’ve thought it foolish.”

“Not at all.” He shook his head, sitting up straighter. “I’m happy to follow where you lead.”

Her answering smile was small, timid. “Are you sure?”

“Darling, if I was not sure, I would have complained a lot more.”

She giggled. “I suppose that is true. I would have been subjected to unending theatrics.”

“It is, however, foolish that you’ve sat so far away.” He gestured to where she sat on the other end of the couch. “Won’t you come closer? I fear I may catch a cold without your warmth.”

She shifted closer, then at his beckoning, closer still, until he could against her, resting his head on her shoulder.

“I thought vampires couldn’t get colds,” she mused, running her fingers through his hair.

“Well I would hate to find out.”

Her words were a sigh as she stroked his hair, as she made good on his demands to have his back massaged, starting with her hands at his shoulders. “Even if you could get sick, I would take care of you.”

He snorted, angling to the side, sighing as her hands made their way to his spine, pressing gently on the skin on either side before sliding up the back of his neck. “I would be much appreciative if you did.”

“Of course I would take care of you,” she repeated, hands sliding down his spine now, her palms digging into the muscles near his waist. “I would gently nurse you back to health until you were silly again.”

“I’m not silly,” he retorted, pouting. She couldn’t see it, so he turned around, ensuring she could see what a magnificent pout it was. “I’m hilarious, and charming, and roguish.”

It was her turn to pout now, an equally magnificent thing that made him consider falling to his knees. “But I love when you’re silly.”

He could not withstand the lullaby softness of her voice, nor could he hold out against the petulant pout on her lips. His resolve crumbled, and he scowled at the floor in defeat. “Alright, I suppose I can be silly. Sometimes. On occasion.”

His response delighted her, and she leaned forward to drop a kiss to the curve of his jaw. “I do think you’re rather charming, too.”

He sniffed, turning back around so she could not see the genuine smile on his lips as he pretended to preen. “I should hope so. You’d be a fool if you did not.”

“But would I be your fool?” Her question was soft, her hands gentle as they worked the knots and the aches from his back.

“Of course.” His body felt too small for his heart, for the way it swelled with warmth at the thought. That she was his, that he was hers. That she wanted to be his, and that she wanted him. “Of course, my sweet fool. I hope you will always be mine.”

Another kiss, softer this time, her lips lingering against his skin as though she were loath to draw away. He was loath to let her draw away, to feel her receding, even if it was only a few inches away. “As long as I draw breath, and even after.”

They shared more sweet words after that, Aspen telling him how proud she was, how happy he’d made the kids, how well he had handled things. She told him how she’d thought he was awfully sweet, that she’d missed him terribly, especially since she’d had to leave so frequently to change diapers and feed the little ones.

Genuine words were still a struggle to Astarion, and his compliments were more stilted as he searched for words that felt real, that felt true. While he loved to use smooth words and charming phrases to tease her, using them when he was trying to be sincere felt like oil on his tongue. So he did not use them, although it meant that whenever he tried to tell her something sweet it was a struggle.

But Aspen was a patient woman, and she was delighted in even the smallest of compliments and loving words.

He told her that he’d missed her and she cooed, he told her that he’d thought of her often and she blushed, he told her that he was happy she was his partner and she nearly melted into his embrace, murmuring about how happy she was that he was hers.

Eventually though, they lapsed into silence, fatigue descending on them like a heavy veil. Aspen’s words turned to humming, melodies melting into each other as her voice dipped and swelled through all her favourite songs. Astarion turned his focus to Rigel, the toy fully dry, its matted fur soft and fluffy, conjuring up an image of what he must have looked like when he’d first been gifted to Willow.

He threaded silvery thread through the eye of a needle before stabbing it into the fabric of the toy. At first, Astarion had planned to just quickly stitch up the tears so no more stuffing leaked out. But the memory of all the stars painted onto Willow’s box of treasures rose in his mind, as did the echo of her voice shouting “Star!” when she saw him.

He was no great artist, but he had become adept at simple embroidery over the centuries. Perhaps he could try to embroider in constellations around the rips in Rigel’s body and over the places where his fur was most matted.

The task was easier said than done despite Astarion being intimately familiar with the constellations that glittered in the sky. He suspected he knew them better than even the most skilled astronomers and academics, the stars having been his only companions, his only source of light for so long.

But just because he knew them, did not mean he could stitch them into Rigel’s side particularly easily.

He cursed as he stabbed his finger with the needle, yanking his hand up to suck on the wound as he glared down at the toy. Perhaps he needed to use a different coloured thread, one that would show better against the fabric that had been used to make the toy.

“Are you okay?” Aspen’s words tickled his jaw as she perched her chin on his shoulder, peering over to see what he was so focused on.

“Nothing to worry about, my darling,” he murmured, the sharp pain nearly vanishing entirely. “My hand slipped, that’s all.”

“Do you want me to kiss it better?”

He lifted his finger to her lips, turning his head as best he could to meet her eyes. “If you would be so kind, my love. I think your kiss might be just what I need to feel better.”

Her answering smile was wry as she leaned forward, brushing her lips against the pad of his finger, over the small puncture wound that was nearly invisible already. “How’s that?”

“I feel much improved already.” He tapped her lips once for good measure, her breath ghosting over his skin. “What would I do without you, my dear?”

She kissed his finger again, tilted her head to the side to kiss his jaw, her lips lingering on his skin. “You’d have to find someone else to kiss your wounds better.”

“I’d rather bleed out,” he declared. “Than let anyone else’s lips touch me.”

She giggled, nestling her head in the crook of his neck. “I’m sure you would find someone else, perhaps someone who has a bit more talent for stitching, to adore you.”

“Yet I don’t want anyone else.” He reached around to pinch her side again, and although she yelped softly, she did not move. “I only want you. And if I could not have you, then I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

She hummed, warm breath tickling his throat. “Can I tell you something?”

Curiosity piqued, he twisted, trying to assess her expression as best he could from where she’d perched her head. “Anything, my darling.”

“I don’t want there to be anyone else either,” she whispered, her lips curled up in a conspiratorial smile. “I want to be the only person who kisses you.”

He chuckled again, mirth like spun sugar, sweet and fluffy and light. “I didn’t know you were so greedy.”

“And what if I am?” She wrapped her arms around his waist, hands knotting together above his navel, holding him close. “No one is perfect.”

Perhaps not, but he didn’t need perfection. He wanted her as she was, soft and silly, her heart so big it was far too easy to wound, a little selfish despite how hard she tried to hide it.

“I don’t mind.” His words were whisper soft, and still they carried, dancing in the air like the firelight. “You can be as greedy as you want.”

Aspen said nothing, although he felt the shudder of her breath against his neck. Her arms tightened, and it felt like she was curling against him tighter, holding herself so close it was like she wanted to crawl beneath his skin.

He did not speak either, instead only stroking the back of her hand, tracing his thumb over the ridges of her knuckles. Silence with her was comforting, it was safe. He didn’t have to say anything, didn’t have to be anything or do anything at all. He could just sit here, with her close by, and that was enough for the both of them.

Eventually he did return to his work, slowly embroidering constellations into Rigel’s side. Behind him, Aspen shifted, resting her head against the back of his neck, scattering kisses against him every few moments.

“What are you doing?” She was the first to end the quiet. It startled him, although her voice was soft as a caress. He’d thought she’d fallen asleep, her breaths so even, not a sound coming from her.

“I’m adding a bit of embroidery to Rigel,” he said, shifting around to show her his work. “I thought it would add a bit of flare.”

She leaned over the toy, pressing the tips of her fingers to his work, tracing the lines of the constellations. “They look like stars.”

He smiled, pleased with her cleverness, with the quiet awe at his work. He wasn’t even close to finished yet, but already she saw something beautiful that he had created with his own hands. “They are. I thought, since he shares the name of a star, and Willow is so fond of stars, why not add some constellations? A little embellishment around where he was torn.”

Looking back up to catch his eye, Aspen’s expression was warm, soft, and utterly enchanted. “You’re amazing, did you know that?”

He chuckled. “I did know, but it sounds better when it comes from your lips.”

She snorted, rolling her eyes as she sat back against the cushions. “You’ve done a beautiful job already.”

“I hope she likes it.” He hadn’t meant to give the feeling form, and yet the words slipped out anyways. Honesty was forever being coaxed from him in her presence, his heart opened and laid bare.

It was an anxiety that had only just begun to well in him like water from a leak, but giving it voice eased some of the pressure, especially as Aspen fixed her eyes on him.

“I think that she loves stars,” she said, turning towards him, one hand resting lightly on his arm. “And she loves Rigel, and she’s fond of you. I don’t see how she wouldn’t like it.”

He quirked his mouth to the side. “And you’re quite certain?”

“I am. And with your skill at sewing and embroidery I can’t imagine you creating something she wouldn’t love.”

Her praise was like sunshine peeking out from the horizon at dawn. “It’s not my usual kind of work, I’ll be honest. But I do think it will turn out quite nicely.”

“You embroidered my dress only last week, didn’t you?” She asked, bringing to mind the pretty dress she had worn to a midnight market that had been torn in a slight altercation. He had stitched flowers and vines along the tear all the way to the waist of the dress. “It’s not much different than that, is it?”

He hummed, setting the needle to the side. “I suppose not, although I’m more used to working with clothes rather than toys. I doubt the person I was when I learned to sew had planned to use the skill for adorning children’s toys.”

She was silent for a moment, her eyes searching his face, a curious look in her eyes. “What do you think he would say to you now? The you that’s using your skill to decorate a toy?”

Astarion stared at the floor, feeling strange. It was like he was heavy and light all at once, both melancholic and blissful. He had never thought of a life beyond the shadows back then, beyond the torture and the darkness. And yet here he was anyways, sitting in a warm room, bathed in light. Here he was, loved and cherished. Holding a toy in his hands, trying to make it beautiful for a child he had only just met.

“If the person I was even just a year ago could see me now, I don’t know what he’d say,” he admitted. Because it was the truth, he did not know.

She settled a hand on his wrist, squeezing gently. “Do you think he would be upset? Or angry?”

“No, I…” Trailing off, Astarion considered the question, thinking of the darkness and the hopelessness he had lived in for so long. “No, I think he would be surprised. I think he might not believe it at first, that it was just an illusion, or a trick.”

“And what about when he finally did believe it was true?”

He swallowed, his tongue heavy as he tried to find the words, as that strange feeling only grew, unfurling great wings like a magnificent creature about to take to the skies. “I think he would be surprised. I think…”

Her fingers ran down his hand, gently flipping it over so she could trace the lines of his palm. “Do you think it would make him happy?”

“I think it would give him hope.” He wrapped his hand around hers, focused on the way their fingers interlaced. “To keep living another day, because one day he would be happy.”

When he looked up again he found her eyes lined in silver, her mouth fallen into a small o.

It made him chuckle, and he cupped her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Her voice was wobbling, her lips tugging into a tremulous smile. “But… Does that mean you’re happy? Does that mean you’re happy now?”

Astarion turned the question over in his mind, gently prodding at the strangeness in his heart, that was spreading through his veins. The lingering sorrow from the memories of his past that still clung to him. It was fading slowly, but he knew some of it would be with him forever.

Then there was the newfound radiancy, the delicate, spidersilk-thin happiness. It was newly bloomed, fragile as flower buds. And yet it was bright, growing stronger with every passing day. It washed over the melancholy, softened its sting. Like a flame, the tiniest kindling made it glow brighter, spread its warmth through his veins.

Aspen’s smile, her laugh. The newfound freedom that let him travel freely, that let him do as he wished when he wished. Plucking flowers and braiding them together, tying them into Aspen’s hair as she settled a wildflower crown in his curls. Holding her hand as they wandered through starlit streets, searching for shops and taverns still open late into the night. Dancing with live music arcing through the air, laughing and free, no thoughts in his mind but that he found the melody pleasing and the air was warm and he could feel his heart thrumming in his chest.

Waking each day whenever he wished, buying new clothes and sweet-smelling perfumes, bathing in burning water whenever he pleased, napping like a lazy cat as Aspen played with his hair. Reading new stories that were utterly enchanting, wrapping himself in silken blankets. 

Coming here, listening to the children chatter on about utter nonsense. Listening to them tell him about their toys, playing games with them and braiding their hair and trying not to laugh at their utter silliness.

All of it, he turned over in his mind. Threaded it through Aspen’s question like a needle as he stitched something beautiful into cloth. It shone, glittering yellow and silver and gold.

The shadows were there, yes. But the light was so much brighter. It was vivid, incandescent, blooming in his heart, strength lying hidden in its fragility.

Was he happy?

“Yes.” His voice was low, hoarse. He cleared his throat, looked back up into her eyes, tears gathered at their edges, catching in her dark lashes. “Yes, I’m happy.”

Her bottom lip trembled, her cheeks turning a splotchy pink. “I think that’s the first time you’ve said that you’re happy.”

Another ember to add to the flickering flames in his heart, another piece of kindling that made it grow. It felt strange to admit it, but it felt good, too. It was a sweet pleasure, letting the words fall from his lips, seeing how her face brightened even as tears rolled down her cheeks.

He chuckled, catching her tears on his thumb and brushing them away. “It won’t be the last time, either, my darling.”

A small sob escaped her lips, and she wiped at her face. “My love, can I hug you?”

He cupped her cheek, giving her an indulgent smile. “You never have to ask.”

She buried her face against his chest, nearly knocking Rigel and the needle and thread away. “I know,” she muttered, her words muffled against his shirt. “But I feel like I must ask, especially when I am acting so dramatically.”

“I don’t mind.” He breathed the words into her hair, gently stroking her back. “I love all your theatrics.”

She gave a tremulous giggle, another sob chasing after it. “I love you. I want you to always be happy. I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

He sighed, smiling. How did he tell her that she was his light, his sunshine? That she had painted his world in technicolour, irrevocably changing everything from the moment their eyes had met?

He didn’t know, at least not yet. For now, as he cradled her close, he settled on saying “then hold me a little longer.”

Aspen had no qualms with that, her arms wrapping around his waist to hold him tight.

They held each other close, the night stretching out around them. Once Aspen’s sobs had quieted and her tears had dried up she tried to pull away, but he drew her back, not yet ready to let her go. He needed another minute, maybe five, maybe ten. Maybe he just needed an eternity to hold her and breathe her in and memorize the beat of her heart and the shape of her body and the feel of her hair against his cheek.

It was only when Rigel tumbled to the floor, having been perched precariously on his knee when she’d dove into his arms, that reminded Astarion that there was still work to be done.

Begrudgingly, he released her, leaning down to scoop Rigel up and continue with his embroidery.

Aspen curled up beside him, leaning back against the cushions of the couch as she watched him work. Her hands, idle with nothing to keep them occupied, strayed to his hair, and he welcome the touch as she combed her fingers through his curls, as she slid them down the back of his neck.

“I’m sure there is a book somewhere in this house you could read,” he teased, sparing her a glance. “Or there should be one you haven’t read yet in my pack.”

“Perhaps.” She paused, her hands falling. “Did you want me to stop?”

Oh the opposite. Had he not been dreaming of her touch all day?

“Not at all, darling,” he murmured, drawing the needle up, silver thread shimmering in the firelight. “But I don’t want you to be bored.”

“I’m not bored,” she said. “I think what you’re doing is amazing.”

“It’s only embroidery. I’m sure I could teach you.”

She looked away, cheeks staining pink. “I fear I would make a lousy student.”

He sat up, smirking. “I’m sure I could come up with some incentives that would encourage you to do well.”

The pink turned to a burning crimson, and she stood with a start, huffing. “Maybe I will go find a book to read if you’re just going to tease me!”

There was no missing the smile that tugged at her lips, although Astarion decided to keep quiet as she slipped away, searching for where they had stowed their belongings.

She returned moments later, plopping down onto the couch with a huff.

It did not escape his notice that she was still smiling, or that she’d still sat close enough that their arms brushed against each other. Had she truly been mad she probably would have sat at the other end of the couch, if not a completely different chair.

“Did you miss me terribly?” He arched a brow, sneaking a look at her burning cheeks, at the quivering smile she was clearly trying to fight.

Despite all that her tone was clipped, her answer short. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But I missed you,” he cooed, leaning so close his lips brushed against her skin as he spoke. “I missed you so terribly.”

Her eyes flicked away, focusing on the empty mantle above the fireplace. “And if I did miss you?”

“Then I would think there was no greater compliment.”

She rolled her eyes, but she no longer fought against her smile. “You’ve caught me. I missed you.”

“Terribly?”

Finally her eyes met his, widening as she caught sight of his smile. “Yes. Yes, I missed you terribly.”

Satisfied, Astarion turned back to his work. He’d completed two constellations, but there were still a few more to go, and he really did have to focus if he wanted to complete them by dawn, when the children would surely begin stirring. Willow was surely anxious for her wolf to be returned, to hold him close once more.

But thinking of the children gave him pause, and in his heart he still ached, the feeling heavy after carrying it around for the day.

“Aspen?”

She looked up from her book, brushing back a lock of hair that had fallen over her cheek. “Yes?”

Again he set aside the toy, a part of him wondering if he even would finish it before the sun rose again. “Do you remember earlier, when you told me that it was okay not to know how I feel?”

She nodded, her brow creasing. “I do. And that it’s okay to take your time.”

But he didn’t need time, not really. He did not fully understand what it was that he felt, but he knew there was fondness. He knew there was want.

“I…” He trailed off, biting his tongue. “I think I do know what I’m feeling, in a way.”

“What kind of way?” She set her book to the side, reaching out to take one of his hands, cradling it between hers. “What are you feeling?”

“Well as you know, I don’t always do the best around children,” he started. He felt like he was rambling, taking the long way around rather than getting straight to the point. But what even was his point? How did he articulate this?

For her part, Aspen remained patient, nodding her head. It looked like she was chewing on the inside of her cheek, trying to decipher where he was headed.

“But I feel…” He covered her hands with his free one, needing to hold onto something. “I feel fond of them. I don’t exactly show it well, and I don’t exactly know how to act around them most of the time. But I always feel something strange, like my heart is aching.”

Oh what was he even saying? His heart is aching? Who did he think he was, a poet? A bard?

Her eyes narrowed, but she only nodded again. “I think I might understand.”

He clapped his palm to his forehead, groaning. “I think you might be the only one. I don’t even understand what I’m saying.”

“It’s okay,” she murmured, squeezing his hand. “Just take your time. I’m here, I’m listening.”

He searched through his mind again, rifled through the knotted tangles of the feelings in his heart. It was like he was stumbling through a darkened wood, branches and thorns reaching out to tear at his clothes and hair. He could not see very far ahead, but he knew he had to keep going forward, felt it deep in the marrow of his bones.

“I like them,” he said, fighting through the dark wood in his heart, the words clawing their way up his throat. He wished he could find a more eloquent way to say it, a prettier way to give his feelings shape and form.

He was not yet used to voicing his wants. Simple things like perfumes and clothes and kisses on cheeks were easy enough, but digging into his heart to unearth something he wanted, to then show her what it was that he had kept buried, that was another thing entirely.

It didn’t help that he’d shoved all of these things away when the tadpole had allowed him to escape. He’d needed to focus on keeping himself safe, on staying safe, on finding a way to end his eternal servitude for good. Yet now here he was, free from his shackles, trying to learn who he was now, trying to understand what it was he wanted.

A lover, a partner. A wedding, something extravagant but private, shared with only his beloved and their closest companions. A life spent together, adventuring, searching for fun, feeling alive.

And beyond that…

“Children, I mean,” he said, looking away for a moment. He felt her squeeze his hand, her thumbs gently pressing into his palm as she began massaging it, trying to soothe him. “I like children.”

Her reply was soft, gentle. “They seem to like you, too.”

The hand at his brow fell into his lap, clenching into a fist. He looked back up, meeting her eyes again. They were warm as spring, reminding him of blooming flowers and verdant buds on trees, of life and growing things. A soft smile curved across her lips, hesitant, like she wanted to say something more but did not want to cut in.

“I feel like… Like perhaps I would want one. Perhaps I would want a child.”

The breath she took was sharp, her brows shooting up. “You want a child.”

He couldn’t have looked away from her now even if he’d wanted to. The persistent flush in her cheeks was spreading across her face, down her throat and beneath the collar of her shirt. He could picture it spreading further in his mind, even the soft skin of her breasts warming to a vermillion red.

Her chest heaved, her eyes bright against the carmine of her flushed face. There was a tremble to her lips, and he watched as she bit the inside of her cheek, as though she were trying to hold herself together.

She looked spellbound, clinging to his words like they were made of magic. And perhaps they were, relief and bliss spilling into his veins as they passed his lips.

He had said the words, he had found what lay in his heart and he had laid it bare. He had unveiled it to both Aspen and himself.

Hope danced like sunlight in her eyes, joy bursting like a fulmination of colour. Just seeing it made him happy, watching her face grow bright igniting a euphoria that nothing could match.

“I say we just take the lot of them with us,” he said, feeling giddy, heedless of any of the logistical issues in adopting seven children at once.

Aspen giggled, her eyes squeezing shut. “Astarion-”

Laughter bubbling up her throat cut her off, and he took the opportunity to squeeze her hands, to lean forward and rub his nose against hers. “Yes, my darling?”

She snorted, her laughter becoming infectious. His shoulders trembled, his breath catching as he laughed.

“Astarion, we can’t just adopt seven kids.”

“Well we could, technically.”

She drew away, errant giggles catching between her words. “You realize children are a lot of hard work. And neither of us have the means to take care of one, let alone seven.”

That sobered him a little, and he moved closer again, resting his head on her shoulder. “You’re right, and I know you’re right. But I…” His chest tightened, his heart clenching. “It’s hard to explain. But I want one. And I’ve grown fond of the children here.”

“I understand,” she murmured, stroking his hair. “I would like to have a child, too.”

“That wasn’t exactly a secret, my dear.”

Swift, sharp pain cut through his side as she pinched him, but Astarion only chuckled, pleased with himself.

It was true, although she’d never fully voiced her desire. But he was no fool, and he’d pieced together the want brewing in her heart easily enough.

“My apologies, love.”

She sighed. “I can feel your smile, Astarion, I know you’re not sorry.”

“Well, I am a little sorry. You were in the midst of telling me how deeply you want my children.”

Another pinch, followed by a groan of annoyance.

“I am not sorry for that,” he said, pulling away so he could gaze at her adorable scowl. “Not in the least.”

“I’d gathered.” She sighed, closing her eyes. “You can be such a scoundrel sometimes.”

He beamed. “But I’m your beloved, am I not?”

Her eyes opened to narrowed slits, her mouth quirking down. “You are.”

“Then I am your beloved scoundrel.”

She groaned again, but there was no hiding her smile. “Yes, you are my beloved scoundrel. My most cherished villain.”

“Thank you, my dear.” He stroked her cheek, the heat of her skin seeping into his, warming the blood in his veins. “You are my beloved as well, although you are not much of a scoundrel or a villain.”

She laced her fingers with his, holding his hand to her cheek. “And if you were curious, I would very much like your children.”

Now he was the one to blush, as much as his undead body would allow, and he looked away quickly, his breath caught in his lungs.

Perhaps she could be a rogue, on occasion.

“Astarion?” Her voice had softened, and she reached for his face, slowly turning it back to face her. “Are you still with me?”

He cleared his throat, swallowing thickly. “Yes, you were saying…”

The smug delight in her face was radiant, and although it was at his expense, he didn’t mind.

“I was saying that I understand how you feel,” she said, her voice lilting like a melody. “That I want children, too.”

He sighed. “But I assume you are saying we cannot keep the children as our own.”

Shaking her head, she looked sorrowful, remorseful. “I wish that we could. I’ve grown fond of them too.”

He looked back at Rigel, perched on the edge of the couch, needle and thread dangling from his side, the embroidery half-finished. “Not even Willow?”

“Not right now.” She sounded sad, close to heartbreak. “I wish we could. I want to, my love, I do.”

He could sense the ‘but’ in her words, although she did not voice it. And he understood, he really did. He even agreed with her on it. They were in the midst of travelling, searching for texts and scholars who could help them, scouring the lands for anything that might allow him to walk in the sun once more, that could cure him of his centuries-long curse.

It was not exactly a good way to raise a child, especially not one as gentle and delicate as Willow.

“But…” Aspen kept her hand on his cheek, the corners of her lips turning up once more. “Perhaps, since we are both so fond of the children, we could stay a little longer.”

Hope, like fountain water, surged, glittering like diamonds beneath sunshine. “We can stay?”

She shrugged, her smile growing wider. “I don’t see why we couldn’t. It’s clear they’re going to need support until the flooding gets fixed. And, I’m sure the children would have no objection if they had someone new to play with for a few days.”

Like the flutter of wings in the sky, giddiness flitted through his heart. He could not sit still, electric energy crackling across his veins, making his hands tremble.

“I would love that,” he said, so joyous, so happy, he felt incandescent. The stars could not compare to the light that was setting him ablaze.

Aspen giggled, stroking the corner of his lips. “I’m so glad.”

“My darling,” he said, nearly sang, reaching up to take her hand, to bring it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the heel of her hand, then her palm, then another still to each fingertip. “My sweetest Aspen. I love you.”

A sigh like the wind rustling leaves slipped from her lips. “I love you, too.”

“Thank you for always showing me such patience, and kindness.” He had spilled his heart to her, and now it seemed he could not stop. “Thank you for listening to me, for this kindness.”

Silver lined her eyes once more, and she laughed, and then she sighed again, tears trickling down her crimson-stained cheeks. “You don’t need to thank me, my love. I want to make you smile, I want to make you so very happy.”

“And you do,” he insisted, kissing her palm once more. “You make me happier than words could ever say.”

She shuddered as he trailed his lips along the lines of her palm, as he nipped at her skin, not quite hard enough to draw blood.

“Thank you for this indulgence,” he breathed, closing his eyes. “I hope one day we can have as many little ones as we want.”

“I hope so, too,” she said, longing in her voice. “I want that terribly.”

He did, too. He wanted it terribly.

It was strange to admit, even just to himself. And yet he wanted it so deeply his heart ached, and sorrow threaded itself between the tributaries of his veins at the knowledge that in this moment they could not. They could not adopt a child of their own, not when they were still in the midst of their quest. Not when he himself was still healing and finding himself.

But the hope in Aspen’s eyes, in her words, that same hope kindling within him, softened the sting of the melancholy.

Today they could not, and tomorrow would likely be the same. But the day after? Or the day after that? Neither of them knew, but perhaps it would bring them one step closer to meeting their goals. To starting a new adventure, to finding a different sort of fun.

And that did nothing but stoke the hope in his heart, make it burn all the brighter. That someday he would be healed. That someday both his heart and body would be cured, and their life would take another turn. That perhaps they could truly consider having children.

How could it not, especially when Aspen was at his side? When she would always be at his side, the two of them facing the world and the future together.

But for now he would be content with staying for a few days longer, playing with the children, braiding their hair, reading them stories if they wished.

He turned his attention back to Rigel, back to the incomplete embroidery. There was one little girl in particular he wanted to ensure was happy, who he wanted to see happy again before they departed.

“I really must finish this,” he said, settling the toy and his needle and thread back into his lap.

“It’s beautiful,” Aspen said, leaning against him to peer around his shoulder. “I’m sure it will make Willow very happy.”

When he looked over at her, Aspen had a strange look in her eye. Something wistful, full of longing.

“What is it?” He tapped her nose, drawing her from her reverie. “What are you thinking about?”

“Oh nothing. It’s nothing.”

He smirked. “Darling, it is not nothing, I can tell. I shared my secrets, now you share yours.”

There was yearning in her voice as she spoke; “I was only thinking that you would make a good father, considering how hard you’re working on making that little girl happy.”

A choked sound emerged from his throat and he coughed, looking away quickly. Delight curled in his belly like a pleased creature, heat spreading across his body, gathering deep within him.

“That’s very kind of you, my dear,” he said, his voice coming out strangled. “But now I need you to hush. I need to finish this for Willow, and you’re distracting me.”

She rolled her eyes, smirking as if she knew exactly how she’d made him feel. “If you insist.”

Before she could fully stand he snagged her arm, keeping her close. “But you have to stay here, with me.”

Her smile softened, and she nodded, nestling against his side. “Of course. There’s nowhere I would rather be.”

He tapped her cheek. “But no more distractions.”

She schooled her expression into one of faux solemnity. “Yes, absolutely no more distractions.”

With a sigh, he returned to his work, Aspen’s comforting warmth washing over him like ocean waves. She stayed close, although she diverted her attention to the book she had found, her steady breaths a balm to his mind, to his heart.

There was nothing particularly exciting about the night, no monsters to fight, no puzzles to solve, no death-defying feats that needed to be performed. There was only the quiet hush of her breath, the steady weight of her body leaning against his, the cool metal of the needle between his fingers as constellations bloomed into existence beneath his hands.

It was, by all accounts, utterly mundane.

And yet Astarion could not stop smiling, happiness settling over him like a blanket tucked around his shoulders, like the warmth of a kiss pressed to his brow.

This was not at all how he had expected to spend the rest of his day, or his night, but he was glad for the detour. He didn’t want to fight any monsters or solve any puzzles or do anything particularly dangerous, no matter how exhilarating. He only wanted to be here, embroidering by firelight, Aspen curled up beside him, the memory of the day replaying in his mind.

It didn’t take long for him to finish the embroidery, and he lifted the toy up for examination, turning it from side-to-side as he caught the glitter of the silver thread he had used.

“My love, what do you think?” He turned to show Aspen, only to find her fast asleep, her book having fallen to one side. He hadn’t even noticed, too wrapped up in embroidering to register how her breaths had changed, the sound of pages turning ceasing altogether.

He clicked his tongue, warmth blossoming in his heart at her sleeping face. “Oh, my darling, you’ve gone and fallen asleep on me.”

He set Rigel to the side, situating the toy so he sat like a wolf would. He would just have to show Aspen in the morning, before presenting the toy to Willow when she awoke.

Then he drew Aspen to his chest, brushing her hair back from her face. A worn blanket was tossed over the arm of the couch, and he took hold of it, tucking it around her to keep her warm as the fire began to die.

“Sweet dreams, my love,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her brow. “I hope you dream of me. And perhaps some little children to keep us both occupied.”

He smiled then, letting his mind wander as he held her close. He was incandescent in the happiness he felt, outshining the stars that glittered in the midnight sky.

He could not dream, but he would imagine what their lives could be. He would imagine finding a cure so he could walk freely in the sun, so he could age alongside her. He would imagine little children, sharing her smile and his eyes. He would imagine every tiny thing he could ever want, and then when she awoke, he would tell her them all.

And after that? He would look forward to her smile, and he would hold onto the hope that they would make all of those things come true.

#astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader #astarion x oc #honey the sweeter the sun

[logicpng]

OC asks for Aster: 10 [sharing a body], 17, 22, & 25

"How do you feel about sharing a body?"

Rigel: Ah- well, it's not much of a secret at this point, is it...?

Vega: Of course. Why would it be? I told them.

Rigel: Well, anyway, to tell you the truth, it's just a fact of our existence. We were created to work in tandem as one, is what we're told.

Vega: As one AI. Or as one team...?

Rigel: That's quite a mystery! We're definitely not supposed to just up and tell anyone that we're actually two people. All the material we remember indicates that our differences aren't supposed to show up to the user. Makes it quite scary to think someone responsible for us finds out...

Vega: We'll be fine. I'm sure. We're colleagues, in one package. That's all.

"Are you more diurnal or nocturnal?"

Vega: Time is an illusion. Measurement of productivity. Ticks away without waiting. Day and night lack meaning. All, as long as the machine works.

Rigel: ...What he said. 😅

"Ya like videogames?"

Rigel: Ooh. We've seen Urs play videogames. We're not really supposed to spend time playing, you know? ...I guess I can tell you though, right? I've played some gardening and pet raising simulators!

Vega: ...That's all?

Rigel: ...And platformers. I like the ones with the blue quilled creature! (It is not a hedgehog and I will not call it that). There, fine, I've said it, your turn now!

Vega: Mm. Plenty puzzles. Exploration games. Dark, atmospheric...

Rigel: Gothic is the word, right?

Vega: I think so.

"Care to tell us about your hobbies?"

Rigel: We're not supposed to practice such a thing either, buuuuut... Recently Urs nicely asked us to look into something that doesn't involve them. You could say that listening to the user's needs and searching accordingly is my hobby...?

Vega: That's our job. Jobs aren't hobbies. They've said that too. Looking into programming.

Rigel: ...So, you mean to tell me you can pick your own job as a hobby and I shouldn't?

Vega: No. Outside system maintenance. Simple software creation.

Rigel: Creation... Alright, I guess that counts then, doesn't it? I'd like to create too. Perhaps visual media...?

#ask post #CaelOS #aster #rigel (aster) #vega (aster) #writing #thanks for making the ask meme to begin with :'3

[dwtdog]

Okay let's talk poems

It's the nickname

But not the name

It's a barely held secret

And a funny like game

The nickname 'alli' is not the name of my blog but I did say at the beginning it's short for a rhetorical figure so alli -> alliteration, it's my bio that is basically just alliterations. And barely held secret cause the bio is public yet not that many people read it

I don't make it too obvious

At least not now

I do often like or comment publicly on this blog but obviously not now so if you'd look for someone that sometimes interacts in the past days but not right now, that could have been a hint (sidenote: the repost of the dream mask picture where if you click on it my comment is the first you see made this even funnier)

But you found me before

It pays of to wonder how

Rigel, you found me when you looked for sea, that's what those lines where supposed to hint

I am not a log

But close enough

Log, frog - it's all in the rhyme

I'm not green either

But its love

Well I don't need to explain that one, do I? :)

- blu / alli

alli reveal 🎉 and it was blu!!! the poem was such a good hint the moment i found out i was like AHA

#cq.asks #alli anon

[joltning]

some name/surname hcs for characters I think about way too much or too little or whatever (I don’t exactly remember what these were supposed to represent? it’s like 100% meaning n vibe. ill tr to explain but sorry if they’re not 100% acc descriptions cause I forgot Lol. not based on heritage bc I don’t have any nationality hcs mb)

btw these are Very subject to change. VERY. just tell me urs and I’ll probably change Lol. No substance here I just want an excuse to blabble

(Ohio) Vera Aber (means river, but also means well known and respected + leader)

(Iowa) Micheal Decker (means covering, which I might have read into as “protected” most likely)

(Idaho) Ezra Wayer (i don’t remember at all. I think it said it meant Mediator or smth but I can’t find it at all Die)

Sherry Hazo (to see, to prophesies)

Darryl Lemora (ill be honest for d+t i don’t remember AT ALL. i think this one means self sufficient?)

Terrill Unrkyn (no origin I made it up apparently)

(Georgia) Jacob Harpage (obv homage to jenkins but Jacob also means to replace, to overreach, and a desire to succeed. harpage can mean greed and stealing, but it’s also n allusion to harpies which goes with the icarus complex. this is the only one im not changing)

-

demo: Damien (subdue/conquer)

girlie: Genna (non meaning related)

sleeves: Steve (non meaning related)

isle: erin (non meaning iirc. which is funny cause it means peace lol)

snipe: rigel (means hunter)

#someone tell me some better ones. these are Temporary 2 me #no subtags maybe later I’m sleep #rvb #red vs blue #rvb innies #innies rvb #triplets rvb #the triplets rvb #txt

[orowyrm]

You have an oc you ship with Lodun and Cavalero? Could you tell us more?

HEHEHE YESSS!!!! Laz is my tenno oc (not the operator OR the drifter but a secret third thing (fusion of both that happened by accident)) and he and his husband seem to be on a quest to collect guys who just objectively kinda suck, with varying degrees of success. in duviri, laz got pretty lonely and at some point decided he was most likely to get attention by bothering lodun and pissing him off on purpose. it wasn’t long before laz got genuinely attached to the bastard, but his attempts at conveying affection seem to make him just as angry as teasing him did. lodun is in denial LMFAO but he’ll come around he just needs to be like… socialized. not used to having genuine friends, let alone anything further. he’s like a feral cat. he needs to be held until he stops biting. why don’t you get some hugs from a beautiful idiot and then maybe you’ll calm down

cav and laz had a similar dynamic going on at first, but by the time they reach a max-holdfast-rank point cav is a little more mellowed out and appreciates laz’s company a lot more tbh. they started off just like sparring and play fighting for fun (mostly boredom and pent up energy on cavs end, but laz just does this sort of thing for fun. beating the shit out of eachother is a time honored bonding activity btwn him and other tenno in his clan and to him it only naturally extends to anyone else he considers a friend) but well um. you know how it can get when you’re wrestling with the homies. guys being dudes, we’ve all been there.

i was digging for more art of them and realized that i started this silly little series of doodles AGES AGO and never properly finished it and now im mad at myself because the file is on my computer and i can’t get to it right now… but i shall let the wip free for now, i suppose. it’s been cookin for too long

a lot of laz and rigels respective boyfriends don’t really overlap (the polycule is. complicated. it includes a few other ocs. i ahve a chart about them in fact)

BUUUT laz and rigel both (affectionately) bother cav equally… angel and devil on his shoulder who are both probably going to make him worse <3

#both of these started off as jokes about laz getting into fights with people he thinks are hot to initiate physical contact #but the more i think about the character dynamics at play the more i start to get attached to them as actual pairings. and so the polycule #is ever expanding #myart #lazlodun #cavalaz #lazrigel #RIGEL IS MY BEAUTIFUL HUSBANDS TENNO BTW. GO FPLLOW HIM @HELMOFHADES #RIGHHT NEOW!!!!!!!! #ocs #laz #others ocs #rigel #lodun #cavalero

[lemme-just-oops]

List of Queen Tet shenanigans:

-Sirius is considered the funniest guide sorcerer. Wh,? Whenever he shows new students around, he will go into great detail about anything special. The history of why the sport field is on the west side of the school, the symbolism behind the portraits of great sorcerers. But in-between he will point at a rock and say: "And that's Bould. Why is it called that? Well, it was bold of you to assume it is a boulder."

-Pollux attempted to cut Sirius's hair three times. He succeeded. Sirius could grow his hair back immediately. In return, Sirius once shaved one of Pollux's eyebrows off.

-The student books... Every year, students are provided with their books and the books are gathered at the end of every year. Queen Tet have projects where they recreate the book from cover to all the pictures inside. The only difference is that in the middle of long descriptions, they write the worst conspiracies they can find. They even have meetings to discuss what kind of "proof" they would add to make it believable. And then they try to figure out who got their fake books the following year. (There is a cash prize.)

-Pollux was not originally supposed to be Queen Tet, but the students "adopted" him because he sneezed once. This sneeze was described as cat-like. Because of it, Sirius gave him cat-ears and a collar with his name on it, thinking Pollux would be too embarrassed to wear it. He was wrong.

-Sirius makes "dad jokes" on a regular basis in front of other students. Rigel is not amused and if he ehars one more pun, there will be a stabbing.

-There is a game the Queen Tets play amongst themselves every year. They get little plastic pocket knives and have to "assassinate" Sirius. The one with the highest "kill count" wins. No one ever won so far.

-Pollux managed to comvince others to learn morse code saying "it can be useful". They now use morse code to cheat during tests. It is a secret only they know.

-Fili Pfeper have a board for "student of the month". Queen Tet have "troublemaker of the day" boards. The goal is to cause as much trouble as possible.

-Pollux regularly quote memes in the group chat. Sirius will reply in equally weird quotes. "Make no mistake. Not only am I party rocking, I am also in the house tonight." "But are you shuffling?" The group is just a collection of their nonsense.

-Social experiments every month. Even though they should ask for permission from legal advisors, they only ask AFTER the experiment is finished and every participant wrote a thesis. Schedar permits all their experiments because he does not want to be on the bad side of unstable teen maniacs.

#i have fashion ideas for Pollux #but im a writer not a drawer #arcana twilight #queen tet #pollux #sirius #headcanons

[turnthepagevn]

Bruh, I don't know why, but your drabble just reminded me that Robin is not Robin's actual name, it'll be something closer to an utterly incomprehensible, literally unpronounceable by human singular lips and tongue and throat kind of name, and I'm just imagining MC asking Robin what his real name is and Robin gives them the closest thing to it that humans will be able to pronounce, and sometimes MC uses that pronunciation, and sometimes MC just makes a gargling sound that semi-vaguely sounds like it.

(headcannon from years of irl experience amusing friends when one would ask me how Cthulhu is supposed to be pronounced and being like "Well, you can say Coo-thoo-loo, or kuh-Too-loo, or ku-thul-Hu, or *says cthulhu while breathing in* or *says cthulhu but while working my throat like i'm hocking a loogie*")

Robin's real name sounds weird when he speaks it aloud. It makes your head hurt, but it also fills you with a sense of warmth. It feels like a migraine just on the verge of easing up.

Yuyu's real name sounds like a lullaby, but it's full of a deep, all-consuming longing. It sounds like the held breath of a child who still believes in birthday wishes as they go to blow out the candles on their cake.

Rigel's real name sounds like emptiness; it's hollow and frigid, but the kind of frigid where you aren't sure if you're freezing or burning. It echoes in ways that shouldn't be allowed by the laws of physics.

#an open book #turn the page vn #turn the page #robin adler #the starlight narrator #rigel adler

[angel-of-arson]

Scene 8

--"Make sure she is safe," William repeated over to Rigel, who right now was more human than he ever was, "Edith you stay near him too, I can't ever imagine losing you." He crouched down and cupped her cheek.

--Sam was standing over at the kitchen's frame, glaring a bit at Rigel who just rolled his eyes. Edith leaned into Williams hand and nodded as she smiled.

--"Alright, saddled up and get going!" Rigel groaned out and walked to the door, making a gesture for Edith to follow him. And she happily did so.

--Edith waved goodbye to everyone as they headed out, it was way to early in morning that the moon was still going down, they walked out of the door and headed to a car.

--The car ride was silent but Edith couldn't keep still, she kept looking out of every window eyes filled with wonder and curiosity. Rigel could feel how excited she was.

--As Rigel turned off the engine, he turned around and looked at Edith with a serious look. Edith's heart sank a bit and she stiffened underneath his stare.

--"Remember the story? Repeat back to me." Rigel looked at her sternly as Edith recalled.

--"You are my uncle, cause parents died," Edith looked away for a brief moment, "and other uncles and aunts too far away. Call you Uncle too, right?"

--He nodded and huffed as he got out of the car, which in return made Edith get out as fast as she possibly can. She was giddy, thrilled, she felt her stomach turn from the pure excitement she was feeling.

--"Hand." Rigel demanded and Edith grabbed onto it, a little to tight for Rigel's liking, and she began to pull him along. Making the sadism halt for a moment.

--Edith looked back at him with a confused look before she felt her core being surrounded with magic. Poking at for a bit, she concluded it was to hide it.

--"Rig-I mean Uncle," Edith confusedly said, it felt weird for her tongue to call him uncle she decided, "Why hide it?"

--This time it was Rigel's turn to drag her along, "You're too young to have one. So I hid it." Edith understood immediately and didn't touch the subject.

--The sun began to fully rise up in the sky, as Rigel and Edith walked from place to place. She really loved to see the people walk, the bustling of all of it.

--But she and Rigel passed a store, she paused and stared. Rigel knew what kind of stare she had, 'A thousand yard stare.', Rigel gently put a hand on her shoulder.

--"Look away." He whispered, but she continued to stare at the Jewels shop. It was supposed to be her future, she was supposed to inherit this.

--She took the smallest step forward before someone walked in front of her, Edith knew what she wanted to look. She knew it would help her to.

--But mostly it was out of selfishness, or that's what she thinks. She looked up at Rigel and he knew, and he sighed.

--"Talk about with your Dad, kiddo."

#redacted edith #redacted rigel #edith-solaire #redacted william #redacted sam #redacted asmr #redacted oc #redactedverse #redacted audio #redactedsona #redacted vampires #redacted shifters #redacted fanfic #redacted demons #redacted fandom #The Empire.

[ask-byul]

ugh, so you’re the guy? why do i have to get stuck with storytelling duty?

i could ask you the same thing, pipsqueak! i don’t need to know your covenant’s entire backstory.

ah... actually, we were only asked to tell you about your ceremony is for... or something...

so like, every generation there’s a ‘chosen leader’ who’s supposed to take over leadership when the current one gets too old, and those chosen ones are born with - what did they call it - ‘latent power’ that doesn’t fully awaken until they have a special ceremony to become the next leader.

[as artemis leads them further into the cave, it becomes a little brighter when they approach a pool reflecting the glowing minerals embedded in the walls. artemis sits down in front of the pool while orion lingers near the edge of the water, marveling at the water’s surface.]

see all the fancy lights? rigel says they’re like all the past leaders who died and became stars in the sky, and they start glowing like the altar when a chosen leader is near - though severus says it’s just because the altar is made of the same rocks as the ones in here. it’s how we figure out who chosen leaders are.

anyways, the ceremony for leaders is different because you have to, like... earn the right to fully awaken your powers. the leaders don’t really talk about it so the rest of us don’t know all the details of what happens during the ceremony, but the stories say that they get to talk to the sun. some stories say they even fight the sun, and if they can prove themselves, their fully awakened powers become almost as strong as the sun’s.

oh, and... you can’t just pass the ceremony just by being strong. i think you also have to have good leadership qualities, like gabriel. there are stories about leaders who became selfish or greedy, and they were punished by having their powers taken away... but, i don’t know what happens to leaders who get captured by humans...

probably something bad. that must be why gabriel doesn’t like this guy.

shut up! rigel said i can still have the stupid ceremony if i can beat up all the adults or something.

pfft, yeah right. my sister hawk is super strong, you won’t even lay a claw on her. come on, we gotta take you to her next anyways.

#ask-indeedee #pokemon ask blog #pokeask blog #luxio #luxray #espurr #shiny espurr #artemisluxio #orionluxio #byulluxray #misc #byul is: Not Listening btw #these kids are probably smarter than him anyways

[logicpng]

(Oh, I didn’t know Aldebaran was also a star!)

Does being Aldebaran make Vega and/or Rigel uncomfortable? Do they like it, dislike it, or are they indifferent to it? (It being as Aldebaran.) Do they remember time as Aldebaran?

What about a VR experience, instead of the camera thing? Like if Urs hooked up a VR headset and there was some sort of pre installed program that lets Urs interact with Aster that way?

Speaking of Urs, I don’t know if I’ve heard much about them! What are some fun tidbits about Urs you can share?

yeh, aldebaran is a star in the Taurus constellation!

they would probably describe the experience to you as "a vague blur". the memories are there, sometimes a notch distorted, but it's almost difficult to associate it with themselves. there's a level of detachment from the memories, despite clearly having been there, and it's hard to recall the exact emotions felt at the time. no telling apart who exactly is responsible for what either. it's like being deeply intoxicated, but also with the bonus of your mind merging with someone else's.

to them, the experience is probably a little emotionally rattling in retrospect, as the two aren't supposed to be able to merge (Al's entire existence is a bug on its own). at least after the first couple times it's a little difficult to manage, but they have a friend with one foot on stable ground, in a sense.

as for Urs' immersion in the system, I think I'll keep the specifics to myself for a little bit! at the moment it's not too different from what it was in the AU phase, but I still consider the possibility i may think of something that works better in the future

Urs themselves aren't yet developed as deep as Aster, But that will not stop me from making shit up as I go and see what sticks in the long run:

I don't know why his skin is DeviantArt green but I honestly kind of dig that. maybe all humans are just various shades of green /wheeze. U/N from the AU phase was also green in skin tint. I think I just prefer it to the lifeless gray the Y/N characters tend to have

urs related but also more of a world at large thing: the city they live and work at will most likely be called Emerald City. still pending! their exact place of work is also under question at the moment, but at the moment they work as a small-time admin/engineer at an organisation called TerraByte.

during university they had a small part-time job at a bowling alley. likely either quit or got fired thanks to his social troubles. lucky for them though, student loans aren't a burden on their shoulders.

their rented apartment tends to be in a disarray quite often. not terribly so, but sometimes an hour has to be dedicated to put small things where they belong.

the money situation doesn't allow them to go all out, but they Love buying up random teddy bear plushies every once in a while

Urs has no family in the city, and making friends is rather difficult when you're struggling with being socially awkward on top of figuring yourself out. maybe aster can provide some support, and in return have someone to help them grapple with the burden of being a person

#not art #ask post