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#moonrise musings
myriad-of-things · 5 months
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I made the Calvin and Hobbes hot chocolate.
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Spoiler alert, because the marshmallows are lighter they just column out the top of the mug. I had to wait for all of them to melt to be able to drink it
as someone who has a degree in what is essentially applied fluid mechanics I should've known better. but for a moment the childish wonder just overtook me
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enigmaticvariation · 8 months
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The thing about heartstopper is that while nick and charlie are cute every time they are on screen I am like "ok whatever what are my best friends tao and elle doing right now."
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spiderwarden · 3 months
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i'm cold and my bed is calling me back but as I go just imagine this.
Minthara getting home in modern from a long day, it's 2am, she undoes the lady tie, pulling the bun on her head a little loose, as she starts to unbutton the front of her shirt. She turns to the counter and picks up a wine bottle and the filled wine glass in the other hand as she makes her way the living room. She HUFFS as she sits on the couch, knees spread to make room for the BDE, as she sips the wine from the glass. Leans forward to set the bottle on the glass table, and plucks the remote. Turns on the TV. What is she watching? Comedies. The Office maybe, something stupid. Maybe even those adultish cartoons like Family Guy, King of the Hill, Bob's Burger, etc. She has a tier list of favorite comedies, a top 20, where the top 5 are the go to and the other 15 are in case the first 5 are unavailable. She is not laughing, but every now and again there is a chuckle and a short smile as she drinks from the glass balanced on her knee.
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hellscaress · 24 days
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@bladesalvation inquired: a kiss on the jawline.
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the bhaalspawn's lips crisp cold at the his skin, though sends a fleeting sensation of warmth building above and below. there had been months of waiting whilst planning, now culminating in an awkward embrace when the tyrant's midas hand presses gentle against the side of his partner's temple.
❝ let us catch up later . . . shall we, my dearest? ❞ he sparks a smirk in between, one more caress of his thumb before his hand relinquishes to his side. ❝ we still have many more steps to take before our glory. i trust you'll be on your best behaviour while i'm gone. ❞
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hellscaress-a · 3 months
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sarevok telling durge that it was their own hubris that led to their downfall. hmm.... moraena believing she is untouchable all the while, orin was rising through the ranks ( which he also says durge paid no attention to bc she was so busy faking her devotion to you. which, idk how much i wanna believe bc??? orin is so unique, i doubt that she did mean that little to durge ). anyway, it puts a lot more in perspective. i could go either way with it, tbh.
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princeofhags · 8 months
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Bg3 moonrise tower spoilers
holy shit was ketheric’s introduction as a villain badass as shit. My jaw genuinely dropped. They did a fantastic job making him menacing and his VA is phenomenal. I can’t wait to see more of him.
Also z’rell is kinda 😳 like, time to go get mother Minthara but…my eyes do stray from time to time
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red-dead-sakharine · 5 months
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Raphael defeated Ketheric by using Yurgir
idk if this is common knowledge or not, but I puzzled it together only yesterday because I always missed a crucial NPC to see the whole picture. So here it is:
From the architect of Moonrise towers - the Infernal Mason you encounter in the House of Hope - you learn that:
Ketheric at some point, after the death of his wife, forsook Selûne and became a Shar worshipper. He had an army that he sent to war, to spread the darkness.
The architect saw his master's evil and made a deal with Raphael: His soul, for the destruction of Ketheric's army.
Raphael kept his word, and Ketheric's forces were destroyed by fiends.
Now, from the Elder Rothé near the Grymforge waypoint you learn that:
Ketheric's army consisted of Dark Justiciars.
A "hellbeast came with the mask-men" and destroyed the army.
And of course we know that Yurgir is trapped in the temple of Shar because his contract forces him to kill all Dark Justiciars.
So now, you know why:
The Architect made a deal with Raphael to stop Ketheric's army of Dark Justiciars.
Raphael contracted Yurgir (who brought his Merigons) to fulfil his own side of the contract.
Yurgir destroyed the army, but because one Dark Justiciar escaped with Raphael's help, he got trapped.
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Why trap Yurgir?
We don't really know - unless I've yet to find it. We do know Raphael considers Yurgir dangerous, so it could be simply security. Trapping a dangerous asset, until it's needed again. He clearly had plans, since he makes Yurgir commander for presumably the conquest of the hells.
Why help Lyrthindor hide?
To trap Yurgir, but also
Yurgir claims that Raphael mentioned an aasimar
Theory: Raphael might have known, that only a Sharran/Dark Justiciar can kill the Nightsong. So he kept one alive, in case he ever has to kill her.
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Why though? He probably knew Ketheric was kept immortal by the Nightsong, so the question would be: Why did Raphael want to keep Ketheric alive? Did he see this entire dead three plot coming? I wouldn't put it past him.
I shall keep investigating, and update this post as I learn more. If anyone has more info, please lmk!
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Additional musings:
Why does Yurgir have Raphael's boots??
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👉 more on Raphael being a bard
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queeronaquest · 3 months
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Closer (Minthara x Female Plus-size Reader)
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Author's note: The holidays are upon us and my mental health is hanging on by a thread. Sorry for a relatively quiet past few weeks, my loves. Still got some requests in the inbox, but I got inspiration for Minthara today and ran with it. No smut, but definitely suggestive. Mentions of a wound and a bit of blood, but nothing too graphic. Hope you enjoy~ (she/her pronouns used for Tav)
“Minthara. Minty,” you hissed.
Her growl was low as she looked back over her shoulder.
“Why do you insist on calling me that?”
“It’s a nickname,” you whispered in return. “I can see you shivering over there. Come here.”
“I will not. I am no weakling. You will not coddle me.”
“The world is 'cuddle' and I don’t understand why you're so determined to be cold when we could share body heat.”
Minthara turned back over, shoulders trembling from the chill of the Shadowlands. You rolled your eyes and stood up, drug your bedroll next to hers, and laid down at her back. You curled around her, cheek pressed against her spine, thighs tucked behind hers. Your hands were folded under your cheek as your eyes fluttered shut and you started to drift back to sleep.
“Hm," she mused. "Your warmth is not unpleasant.”
“You’re welcome,” you mumbled.
“Hmph.”
It wasn’t long before she started to tremble more, still fighting the cool of the night. Your arm settled around her waist, pulling her back against you. Her shivering ceased and she curled tighter. She felt your thigh nudge between hers, covering her lower leg.
“You’re so soft.”
“I can hear you sneering when you say that. Keep it up and I’ll move back to where I was.”
“No! You may stay. But only for tonight.”
Every day you got another peek behind her walls and it only endeared her more to you. She was not a very emotionally open person, more like a finely honed weapon. She relied on the mental bond between you, often prodding at your mind inquisitively to share her thoughts or seek yours. She was still wary of you, but her loyalty had solidified after you rescued her from Moonrise. And now the strong daughter of House Baenre was curled up in your arms, taking comfort from your warmth.
~~~
You were shoved unceremoniously away the next morning. You blinked awake, startling as a cluster of your party members stared down curiously at you. Minthara scowled to herself as she rolled up her bedroll and stalked away.
“How precious,” Astarion cooed. “I was unaware you two were so close.”
“We aren’t,” you sighed as you rolled up your own bedroll.
You were sluggish throughout the day, having been awoken so abruptly. After exploring a bit more in the shadowlands, dealing with Gerringothe Thorm, and enduring Minthara’s insistent prodding at your mind, you were done for the day. You’d refused her entry, taking the time to focus on your tasks and keep your thoughts to yourself.
It was only now that you allowed your mind to wander unbidden as you scrubbed the grime off of your gloves at the water’s edge. Minthara’s soft steps padded up behind you, her slippers scuffing against the rocks by the shore. Your mind’s defenses prickled as you felt her prodding again. Instead of just denying her entry, you pushed back, fuming silently.
“You have not been yourself today, Tav.”
“How do you know what I am like, Minthara?”
“You haven’t called me Minty once this day."
“You implied you didn’t like it.”
“I - well, this nickname, as you say. My understanding of them is that it might mean you are perhaps fond of me.”
Your hands froze, yet you continued to stare down at your gloves.
“Whatever you thought, it was wrong.”
You got up, thinking your gloves would just have to be clean enough, you just had to get away from her prying eyes.
“Tav!” Her voice was sharp, commanding, making you halt in your path. “I have been inside your mind. Many times. I have seen your thoughts. I have seen your gaze linger on me in my armor and out of it. Why do you deny what is evident?”
Your mouth twisted in anger as you whirled on her.
“Loyalty, I know you understand that. But kindness is something that you are lacking. It is not kind, Minthara, to play these games with me. I offered you comfort. Comfort that you accepted in the night but was somehow unacceptable in the morning. I was not angry about it, as you are within your rights to say no at any point. I just decided to give you whatever time you needed to process your thoughts, but since you insist on pursuing my own, I will share them. Out loud. I will not let you hide in your mind in this moment, Minthara. You must face me truly." She froze. "That terrifies you. I can see it in your eyes.”
She realized that she had taken a minute step away from you, eyes widening at your accusations. They shifted quickly to a glare, her temper rising.
“You speak much of what you do not know.”
“Don’t I?” You grinned sharply. “While you poked at my mind, I have caught glimpses of your own. I have seen the small child who longed for a gentle touch, for love. Who accepted it wasn’t how things were done in Menzoberranzan. And now that you’ve seen our group, how we care for each other, you’re rethinking everything you knew. You’re afraid of someone caring for you. Of - of me.”
She blinked away furious tears and shook her head at you, almost as if to empty it of the thoughts that clawed at her. She spun on her heel and rushed away from you. You swiped angrily at the tears that were streaking down your own cheeks and sniffled before letting out a large sigh. Gods.
~~~
When you got back to the camp, the others milled about laughing together. Your eyes were slightly swollen from your tears spilled at the lakeside. Your wet gloves dripped as you walked and you stopped at the edge of the tents to shake them off. Karlach turned to greet you before her face dropped into a frown.
“Hey, soldier! Washing gear got you in a bad mood, eh?”
You shook your head, avoiding her gaze and sniffled softly.
“Oh, this is serious? Damn. Don’t worry, I can fix it.”
Her arms looped under yours and hauled you off the ground, swinging you in circles until you were dizzy with laughter. When she finally put you down, you stumbled and leaned against her for support.
“I got ya. Whatever you’ve got going on, it’ll turn out okay.”
Karlach's arms were sturdy as she held you up and comforted you. Minthara seethed from across the camp and ducked back into her tent. As she laid awake that night, her mind whirred. She sat up, scowling and threw open her tent flap, storming off into the night. Well, only as far as the borders of camp. She sat and kicked at the water with a growl, stewing over her racing thoughts.
“Careful. Who knows what’s lurking in there?”
“Wizard.”
“Paladin.”
Gale sat next to her, peaceful in the silence. While his mind was serene, Minthara’s raged on. How was she to cope in this unfamiliar world?
“I noticed the way you watched Karlach and Tav earlier. Your expression was fit to terrify children. If you… feel a certain way about her, you could just say so.”
“I’m not taking advice from someone who decided to toy with magic he does not understand.”
“Fair enough. A cut well aimed. Yet I must inform you that I am a man who prides himself on his keen observation. You care for Tav. It is plain as day. Well, day anywhere else but here.”
“Absurd. I care for naught and none but myself.”
“Hm. I suppose you wouldn’t be interested to know that I believe Tav cares for you, then?”
Minthara’s ears perked up slightly. Gale’s mouth plucked up at the corner.
“I see the way she watches you. How she cares for you. Ensures you’re settling in well amongst our chaos. It is more than most would do. And while Tav is a very special person, she takes extra care with you, Minthara." He paused a moment, allowing his words time to seep in before he stood to return to his tent. "Get some rest.”
~~~
Minthara tossed and turned that night, juggling Gale’s words in her mind. In the morning, she thought. That’s when I’ll find out for myself if the wizard’s words ring true. And so when she rose the next morning, armor on and weapon gleaming, ready to take a bite out of anyone that should get in her way, she was shocked to find out that the party had left without her, Karlach in her place.
She sulked that day, waiting around in her armor, mace strapped to her back, thinking you would change your mind and return for her. You’d made a mistake of course, but all could be forgiven once you returned. Minthara knew she could be cruel, but she knew when to use a gentle touch. She vowed to save that especially for you.
And still you did not return. She eventually stripped off her armor and paced around the camp. Wyll kept a wary eye on her, flinching when she snarled at him. Halsin frowned constantly at her, and she kept her distance. It was not truly her who’d intended to hurt the grove, but he was cautious all the same.
Astarion eventually threw a dagger at her to get her attention and she winced as it sliced the very edge of her ear. She whirled on him and he ducked quickly in his tent. She threw the dagger down into the dirt and growled in frustration before stomping back to her own tent. The others in the camp shared a look, wondering what would come of her erratic behavior.
The clink of armor got her attention and she poked her head out long enough to see Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Karlach flanking you closely and chatting with ease as you returned to camp. She felt so ostracized from the others, such an outsider. Perhaps it is deserved. She shook her head free of the troubling thoughts and returned to her tent, sneaking out later only once everyone had gone to bed so that she might get a ration of food for her supper.
Your eyes flew open at the familiar shuffle of her slippers scuffing against the ground. A smile flitted across your face as you watched her dig in the bag for her portion and you sat up, propping yourself up with a palm braced on the ground. Minthara froze, hearing the motion of your movement.
As she turned, her eyes roved over you. She eyed the generous curve of your hips, barely covered by the blanket. The swell of your breasts drew her attention next, your peaked nipples straining at the fabric of your thin shirt. The sweet curve of the lips she so longed to taste. A soft whine left her mouth and she gasped, shocked at herself, before running off to her tent.
You could barely keep yourself from running after her. If she was to open up to you, she would have to take the next step. Had you followed her, though, you would have found her writhing in her furs panting for you. Her food was forgotten at her side, her thoughts only of you and how she longed to see you and experience you fully. How shameful of her to be so overcome with lust. To be so inadequate beside you. To be unable to give you the adoration you wholly deserved.
Her nimble fingers brought a quick release and still she was unsatisfied, knowing the only cure for her lay between your legs. She held tightly to that thought. Should she explore it more truly, she would find that the remedy she sought most was to be treasured by you so dearly that she might understand what it meant to be loved.
~~~
The days grew longer as you continued to deny her a place at your side. While you circled through the other members at camp, you ignored her. She avoided anymore late night food rummages, ensuring her rations were collected while everyone else ate. She would scurry back off to her tent, clueless as to your worried eyes that followed her every step.
She trained daily, honing her skill, even when you did not choose her once again. That evening, Minthara sparred with Lae’zel, one of the only ones who would not shy from her, when she heard worried shouts bursting through the boundaries of camp.
Shadowheart’s hands glowed a soft blue as she tried to hold them steady against your side. Karlach’s face was creased with worry as she ran with you, apologizing for jostling you with every step. Wyll sent more eldritch blasts into the darkness, finishing off the foes that had followed close behind.
“Halsin! Halsin, we need you!”
Shadowheart’s panic affected Minthara deeply when she saw how lifeless you were becoming. She had seen you downed before, but this was her first time seeing you so close to death. She’d heard from the others about the mysterious Withers being able to resurrect companions, but she’d be damned if she let you die.
She raced after them toward Halsin’s tent. She learned that your party had been ambushed by shadow-cursed monsters and one of them had gotten a good swipe against your abdomen, opening you up. Halsin and Shadowheart worked quickly to heal you, trying to keep your innards where they should be.
Her nostrils flared at the scent of your blood as she paced and waited for you to be healed. A hand came down on her shoulder as Gale tried to steer her away, her pacing only succeeding in making everyone more nervous. Her hand flew up, smacking his away as she turned and snarled at him.
“Touch me once more without permission, wizard, and you will lose the offending hand.”
His face paled and he turned away from her, muttering in frustration. She ceased her pacing but continued to hover nearby, watching as their magic began to knit your skin back together. When your breaths became more steady, everyone heaved a sigh of relief. They sat back on their heels and watched you for a few moments more before Minthara stormed forward and gestured at your limp body.
“Well?? Why hasn’t she woken?”
Halsin sighed wearily and rubbed at his face.
“She needs rest, Minthara. She is healed, but it will take some time for her to fully recover.”
“I will stand watch.”
“That is unnecessary. Shadowheart and I are more than capable-“
Minthara let out a wild snarl, more reminiscent of a wild animal than a noble of Menzoberanzzan.
“I am capable. I will guard her.”
She stared them down, relaxing only when they drew away from you. Her hands were gentle as they slid under you and lifted carefully. They tried to prevent her from moving you, but she would not have it. Her muscles strained as she carried you to her tent, placing you down into her furs. She fretted over you, covering you and then uncovering you, not wanting you to overheat. She tugged at her hair, taking it from its bun and stared down at you, helplessly.
“Knock knock.”
She lunged out of her tent, startling Astarion, who stood with a needle and thread in one hand. Her face drew tight with distaste as she sneered at him.
“You bring such a tiny weapon to face me, vampire. Your needle and fangs are no match for me.”
He rolled his eyes and gave her an unimpressed look.
“Honestly, Minthara. What’s gotten into you? I’m here because Tav’s shirt will need mending.”
Minthara paused, tapping her foot, before holding her hand out for the supplies.
“Give them to me. I will do it.”
He pulled them further away from her before bursting into laughter.
“You? The great Minthara of House Baenre knows how to wield a needle and thread?”
“I will learn. It must not be hard if one such as you can do it.”
He huffed and waved his hands around in annoyance.
“I won’t even pretend to know what you’re insinuating. I've had plenty of time to hone my skills and I’m here to take care of Tav, so step aside.”
He moved past her into her tent and gently folded the furs back to see the damage.
“Ah, cut around the waist. I’ll need it off to fully mend it.”
“You would not dare undress her without her consent.”
Astarion turned to grin toothily over his shoulder.
“I would never, but I’m quite intrigued by how vehemently opposed you are to it.”
She scowled and balled her hands into fists. At that moment your eyes began to flutter open.
“Astarion,” you mumbled. “Stop harassing Minty.”
Minthara’s chest tightened at the nickname and fell to her knees beside you. Astarion brushed a gentle hand over your forehead and smiled down at you.
“There you are, my dear. Welcome back. You gave us quite a fright.” He nodded to Minthara. “Some more than others. Now. I need to mend your shirt. Is it alright if I take it from you?”
You nodded and struggled to sit up. Minthara quickly closed in behind you and held the furs up in front of your chest, supporting you as you pulled the ragged tunic over your head. Astarion took it and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“Thank you, darling. I’ll have it back to you soon.”
Your body was weak and you stayed slumped against Minthara as your mind tried to drag you back to sleep. She sat stiffly, afraid to move lest you be uncomfortable or worse, push her away. She was filled with shame as she recalled the moment she’d shoved you away in embarrassment after being caught tangled up with you.
“Minthara.”
She sagged slightly at the sound of your voice.
“Yes?”
“Why am I in your tent?”
“You nearly got yourself killed, you fool.”
She winced at the harshness of her words and tone.
“Withers would have patched me up.”
“The bone man unsettles me. I would rather you return whole and not dead. Lolth give me strength, you run headfirst into danger without a thought for yourself.”
You sat up more now, pulling away from her as you turned to face her. You kept the furs clutched against your chest as a barrier between the two of you.
“I do think of myself. I also think of others who will be harmed if we do not defeat the Absolute.”
Minthara scowled at you, shaking her head in annoyance.
“Your conviction is admirable. Your recklessness is not. You must be more calculating. You are not alone in this. My fingers ached for revenge on this day and the ones before, but you did not indulge me. Why?”
Your eyes widened at her question. Her cheeks darkened, but she held your gaze, waiting for your response.
“I… didn’t want to be near you. To have you prodding and poking around in my mind is unnerving.”
“Truly? You never stopped me before.”
“You didn’t confuse me before.”
Her brow wrinkled as puzzlement painted her own features.
“Confused? I am always straightforward with you. Speak your doubts.”
“Minthara,” you sighed. “You seem as if you want to be close to me, but you consistently reject when I try to care for you. I am not merely a body to be toyed with. I have emotions and you hurt me. The relationship you desire is not one I can offer. I need more than just a physical bond.”
“This is why I use the mental connection. But you say I unnerve you. Now I am the one confused.”
Your fingers dropped into the furs, wrapping around hers once you found them.
“Minthara, I mean that my partner… well, I want them to be open with me. Emotionally open. I understand that you may not be there yet, but that means I cannot accept any kind of relationship with you right now.”
Panic raced through Minthara’s insides as she sought your sorrowful features for any hope of connection.
“I can.. try. I will try.”
You pursed your lips, doubtful, but waited for her to continue. She shook her shoulders to loosen them as her eyes darted nervously around the tent. Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly until she finally braced herself to speak.
“It felt… unpleasant. When I saw Karlach swinging you about in her arms the other evening. I did not like it. I wished to hold you the same way. Alas, I cannot swing you around like she can. My height does not allow for such things. But I am strong. I will fight at your side. You can depend on me for this.”
Your laugh was soft and made her shy away, suddenly unsure.
“Are you saying you were jealous of Karlach?”
“Jealousy? Bah! Jealousy is for those who are incapable of achieving what they want. I am more than capable. But when you laughed in her arms, I did not like it. Because she doted on that which I want to be mine.”
Her eyes widened as she focused on the ground, startled by her admission. You twisted further toward her, too quickly, and groaned, clutching at your side that still echoed with phantom pains.
“Minthara, I didn’t realize you felt so strongly.”
Her shoulders drooped slightly, unburdened by her confession.
“Neither did I, it seems. Yes. Yes, I would have you as my consort should you wish it. Or rather, my equal as I assume you would prefer. I have had many taken from me by those who wish to see me break. I cannot break again. I will not allow someone to control me in such a way. You must be capable of protecting yourself when I am not at your side. Losing you would be - losing you would be devastation.”
You leaned in close and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She gasped softly and after a moment, her nose tipped up, brushing against your skin until her lips found yours. You turned more, letting the furs drop, and shifted to straddled her. She clung to the thick of your thighs, the roundness of your stomach, the gentle curve of your arm. Her lips were reverent, murmuring soft praises as she pulled back to meet your gaze.
“Your body is as soft and warm as your heart. And as I am beginning to learn from you, being soft does not mean being weak… I am grateful that you prevented me from bringing destruction to the grove, grateful that you rescued me from Moonrise. Your willingness to see the good in all of us, in me… it is admirable. I am grateful.”
“You said that already,” you grinned against her cheek.
“So I did.”
Her mouth was sure as it moved over yours, her touch warm as her fingers danced over your skin. Minthara gave herself to you completely that night, trusting you to hold her unsteady, curious heart in your tender hands. You did all that and more, drawing her out from behind her deeply forged walls, crumbling them to pieces with your soft cries and adoring touch. And in the morning when she woke at your side, she did not push you away. She held you closer.
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dhampling · 2 months
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How do you think astarion would handle a tav who is actually from earth and is going to return home after defeating the Nether brain? Like maybe mystra or some other god brought them to faerun and told them to "fix it" and at first it's all like "great, sure, why not? I can do that" but they meet astarion and he gets attached only to learn that no matter the outcome their days are numbered?
Firstly - thank you so much for this one. It made me a little sad thinking about it and yet it was a weirdly bittersweet sadness? Thank you for your brain. I like it. I think it’d be quite easy to write off Astarion’s response as ‘meh. They’ll be useful while they’re here and OH NO I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE I AM UTTERLY BESOTTED’ and watching the chaos around that. In reality, I reckon there’s a big fat chunk of mirth in how he deals with them.
He’s fascinated by the fact they’re from a different world, but mainly for selfish reasons. I do think there’d be a lot of questions on his part (he’s trying to suss out if it’d be a viable proposition to return with them when they leave Toril in order to escape Cazador’s clutches).
Early on in the journey, when it’s unclear as to their actual destination - and whether the heart of the Absolute will return them anywhere near Baldur’s Gate; whether Cazador can be dealt with is up in the air, and if the party would even be willing to assist him is an entirely different question.
So I think Astarion would be scoping out every avenue of escape, like a rat in a cage; frantic for a way out, which is where the seduction comes in.
The issue is that the typical script doesn’t really work.
Astarion has no relevant contextual clues for this strange being and his charismatic advances often fall flat. As a result the traveller sees straight through him with a stoic detachment that can often come over as unnerving.
He realises he really, genuinely enjoys the traveller’s company. It’s refreshing. No city-prattle, no self-gain. He can almost feel himself beginning to regain some of his edges.
Somewhere at the back of his mind he’s aware his new companion will have to return home someday, but every day alive and free at present is a blessing.
The earthborn grows fond of him, too - despite the fact he talks their ears off frequently - they banter together along the road; spend countless late nights sharing life experiences and pointless musings when their fellow travellers are resting, and inevitably become close.
Towards the middling end of their adventure; after the drow at Moonrise, he realises that Cazador might actually be an attainable kill. He could be free forever. He has a friend willing to help him.
Then he wonders what there actually is left for him along the Sword Coast. Everything and everyone he knew, dead or gone. 
Obviously, he can’t return to earth. It just isn’t an option.
He continues to hope the gods will make an exception though.
The Absolute is eviscerated, and so is Cazador. Along the journey their bond becomes ridiculously solid - love in every sense. He wasn’t aware he was still able to feel things so strongly. He feels safe. Cared for.
He’s free, and as he turns to relish in the victory along the docks his most beloved companion simply isn’t there. 
He begins to burn, hides behind a stack of crates in a dumbfounded stupor until nightfall.
Then, he realises he has to commit them to memory. Writes pages on pages detailing every last little thing he remembers of them; commissions a portrait with the money sat in his account since the day of his death (now having accrued a sizeable interest) based on description alone. Revises it time and time again while their memory is still fresh. A locket pendant he attaches to his belt.
He has a lot of life left to live and he doesn’t intend to forget them. 
Hundreds of years later and they still flit into mind. Careful, compassionate; his liberator. He’ll regale new friends and lovers with tales of this strange creature given by the gods. Likely long gone by now. 
Always there somewhere in his mind.
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karniss-bg3 · 6 months
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Midnight Snack
In the late hours of the evening Tav found themselves hungry. Moonrise was uncharacteristically quiet and still, many of its denizens out on patrol or assigned to various parts of the withered city. Tav enjoyed these rare moments of solace and solitude especially considering how often they were under scrutiny by the dark residents. They wandered into the kitchen, an area that was in various states of cleanliness. Pots and pans were scattered about haphazardly and a slightly musty aroma lingered in the air likely from the build-up of dust and rot. Despite this Tav wasn’t willing to sacrifice a proper meal regardless of their surroundings.
They got to work gathering what pans and utensils they could scavenge which still held promise, dumping them into a wash basin to give a good scrub down. While elbow deep in the soapy water their ears pricked when they heard a familiar clicking nearby. However, it wasn’t at ground level. Rather it was along the walls within the room, shifting as it seemed to come closer. Tav knew that sound, growing accustomed to it in their short time in Moonrise. Carefully they let their gaze drift to their peripheral managing to catch a fleeting glance of a certain drider looming nearby, moon lantern suspiciously absent. Kar’niss had likely heard the commotion and opted to come investigate, perched on one of the walls close to the ceiling. Unfortunately, he was too large to walk upside down but he did take advantage of the darker corners to keep himself moderately concealed. Tav pretended not to notice resuming the task at hand but kept an ear out all the same.
Eventually they finished cleaning and wandered over to the wood stove, tossing in a few logs and lighting it with a fire cantrip. A fire roared into life with such fervor that Kar’niss backed away and smushed himself tighter into the corner, quietly hissing to himself. Tav said nothing as they dusted off their hands. They knelt down next to their travelers pack digging through the contents until they found the ingredients they were after. Much of the available food in this area was rotten or less than ideal, long past its expiration date. It made Tav thankful that they had extra supplies from their journey through the mountain pass. They cut up sausages, onions, carrots and a bit of garlic which were dumped into the heated pan on the stove top. The ingredients started to sizzle on contact, a notion that caught the drider’s attention, leaning forward with a hint of curiosity while maintaining a wide gap of distance.
“Hungry?” Tav asked, keeping their gaze on the food.
Kar’niss jerked from some surprise, gazing about with some haste as if confused on who Tav was asking. He realized no one else was in the room bar the pair of them which made him shift with some nerves.
“We do not eat what True Soul eats,” his voice quiet.
Tav used a spatula to stir the contents of the pan to prevent it from burning, the various aromas mingling together drowning out the musty smell of the room. “A shame, this is a good meal. Also, you can call me Tav if you wish. True Soul sounds so...formal.”
Kar’niss’ eyes squinted, crossing his arms over his chest. “No, Majesty bids we address you as She wills it.”
Tav hummed and nodded knowing better than to push the issue further. They went back to cooking, grabbing a bit of lemon to squeeze over the meat for added kick and finally some salt and pepper to taste. “Curiously, what is it you do eat?” Kar’niss took a cautious step closer, more of his twisted form revealed in the dim light. “Blood. We must feed every four days, more often is ideal.”
“Heh, sounds like someone I know,” they mused. “Well are you able to at least have a taste? You still have a mouth, seems silly that you can’t at least sample what I’ve made.”
The drider pressed his lips into a thin line. “We can, but why would we? Pointless.”
Tav dumped the contents of the pan onto a plate, using a fork to scrape it into a manageable pile. They’d then wander over to where Kar’niss was perched, peering up at him in his cozy corner.
“Because I still owe you for saving my skin the other day. I’d be a corpse if you hadn’t acted quickly. This isn’t much of a thank you, granted, but it is a start.” They’d smile and stab the fork into the meat and vegetables. “You’ll have to come down though, I’m unable to reach you from here.”
A deep, vibrating growl rumbled in Kar’niss’ throat although it was not threatening, more like confused annoyance. At first it seemed he had no intention of answering the request, perfectly happy high up on the wall away from the perceived pest. Tav waited patiently able to see the mental journey Kar’niss was going through due to his conflicted expressions.
“Tch, if it pleases the True Soul then it also pleases our Queen,” Kar’niss concluded.
Hesitantly Kar’niss descended, his legs clinging to the stone walls barely managing to keep him aloft. He’d lean down as Tav lifted up their arm, extending the fork toward his mouth once in range. The former drow sniffed at the collection of food skewered through the metal prongs, his head jerking back as if the smell offended him.
“Come now, it’s not as bad as all that. Just one bite and I promise I’ll let you be,” Tav said.
Kar’niss sighed, his reddish eyes darting between the fork and Tav, his arms defiantly crossed over his chest. He leaned closer, his lips trembling as if he worried the food would bite back. With a sharp snap of his head his mouth took in most of the fork, lips forming a seal. He’d then jerk back using his lips to free the food stuffs from captivity, backing up and away from Tav as he did so. With his mouth full at first he looked stumped as if unsure what to do. Who knows how long it had been since he’d consumed solids and his recent inexperience was showing. Tav looked on but allowed Kar’niss to take his time, recalling how temperamental the drider could be.
He’d soon will his jaws into working, fangs gnashing awkwardly at the portion with some struggle. Thankfully it hadn’t been a large serving, soon conquering the morsels and alleviating his mouth with an audible gulp. His expression scrunched and a shiver ran down his spine as if the entire performance was most unholy. “Awful. Tastes like sawdust,” He concluded with a spit. He stuck his tongue out and began furiously wiping his palms over the surface to rid himself of any remaining particles.
Tav blinked at his assessment before a wide smile creased their lips, followed by an amused chuckle.
“I suppose I didn’t know what I expected. Your taste buds were probably permanently altered when you changed considering your new diet. As you said, pointless. I thank you for humoring me all the same, Kar’niss.” Tav scooped up a fork full for themselves, popping it into their mouth with a pleased crunch. They didn’t seem concerned about eating after the drider, something he took notice of.
Tav retreated to a nearby table to sit and finish their meal. Even though their interaction appeared to have concluded, Kar’niss remained. He smacked his lips together, rolling his tongue behind his teeth, trying to collect a hint of the offerings natural taste. Alas it appeared such was not meant to be. He peered at Tav with some confusion. They were easily the most bizarre True Soul he’d ever encountered and he wasn’t sure what to make of them. He rubbed the back of his neck while his eyes blinked intermittently out of sync, watching the strange individual while they ate.
“I do have a question,” Tav began between bites, “before you changed, what did you like to eat?”
The question caught him off guard, his mouth opening as if to speak yet his voice escaped him. It took him time to think it over to recall such a distant memory, scanning the depths of his broken mind. He shrank in place when he dug too deep, memories resurfacing in bits and pieces, many of which made his stomach churn. It took real effort to shove certain thoughts away in order to focus on what he wanted to recall.
“Grilled...rothé. I liked grilled rothé and zurkhwood mushrooms.”
“Ah, underdark cuisine. Makes sense. Well, if I can ever get my hands on either maybe I can make it for you. It might taste like sawdust but it’ll be a nice break from blood, hm?” Tav finished off their plate feeling far more sated.
The drider’s face scrunched up with some anger, crawling down the wall to step on the floor below. “Why does True Soul care? We do not need these things! All that matters is our Majesty’s will, Her desires! We must focus on guiding more faithful to Her path and that should be your only concern.”
Tav looked up from their empty plate as Kar’niss stomped over, his form tall and imposing especially with Tav seated as they were. They’d look up at him able to glean the conflicted wave of emotions etched in his expression.
“Are you not one of her faithful?”
“Tch, we are Her most faithful!”
“Who is to say I was not sent here to reward you for your service?”
Kar’niss felt every muscle in his torso tense in unison as if a minotaur had punched him in the chest. He backed down from the table lifting one hand to grasp at his hair, bewildered by such a bold statement.
“What is the True Soul suggesting?” “I am suggesting that our Queen sent me to look out for you. She led me to the lyre, She led me through the mountain pass, and She led me to you. Is it really such a far fetched notion, after everything you’ve done?”
Tav knew what they said was dishonest and they were playing a dangerous game. But they couldn’t hope to make leeway unless they humored the notion of the Absolute to some degree. Their very presence at Moonrise risked being compromised at any given moment. They had spoken with many in the tower and deemed most of them beyond saving. Most, except for Kar’niss. Tav’s gaze settled firmly on Kar’niss maintaining their composure hoping their deception wouldn’t be perceived.
Perhaps it was because Kar’niss desperately wanted approval from the Absolute, or perhaps his mind was far too fragile and scrambled to notice, but he seemed to believe the statement that was made. His sharp fingertips scratched the front of his throat, his bulbous backside wiggling with a clumsy wag.
“Sh-She has...rewarded us,” He whispered under his breath. The hint of moisture collected in the corners of his primary pair of eyes, a shaken breath pulled deep into his lungs. “Majesty, have you really heard us? We are worthy of your mercy?”
Tav looked on while Kar’niss processed everything. It broke their heart to see the drider like this, lost to the cult mentality and the desperate search for acceptance. They knew they had a long road ahead but if they could disconnect Kar’niss from the rest of Her followers, perhaps healing could begin. They rose from the chair, collecting their empty plate to dump in the nearby wash bin. They’d approach Kar’niss whose gaze seemed transfixed on the ceiling, delivering silent, tear-filled prayers to his savior.
“You are worthy of more than just mercy, Kar’niss. Majesty has seen the sacrifices you’ve made, as well as the suffering that came with it. She might not always speak to us but she shows her approval in other ways.” Tav paused and bit their lower lip as a thought came to them. “Our Queen has just spoken to me. Tomorrow evening meet me here after the patrols have left.”
Kar’niss swallowed heavily, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “She speaks?! What did She say, True Soul?”
“I can’t tell you, not yet. Tomorrow all will be revealed. Trust in our Queen and all will be well, alright?”
“Y-Yes...yes, She knows what is best, she will protect us with her endless wisdom. We will return here tomorrow.”
Kar’niss wouldn’t spare a moment more loitering in the kitchen. He had to retrieve his moon lantern from Balthazar, he needed to be prepared for what was on the horizon. He climbed back up the wall and headed for a hole in the ceiling, barely managing to squeeze his large body through, entering the second floor. Tav stood there and watched him retreat, exhaling a heavy breath of relief. That was close, too close. They had plans of their own now and the clock was ticking. They’d grab their pack and hoist it over their shoulder, the cogs in their mind working overtime.
“I really hope this works, for his sake and mine.”
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karisomk · 29 days
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To see the Red Thread, Pt. 1 & 2
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(Sometimes muses just strike me, LMAO. And this is just a head canon of Sylra picking up that something is different with Astarion after the rite of Ascension. Companions witnessing it beforehand. I already posted this on my secondary profile but sharing it here too.))
[[During the epilogue when wine is making everyone buzzing and everyone is having a good time. Halsin who still is sober and for reasons of trying to prevent wild shaping. I like to believe that Tav would have a buzz but not be drunk, and so they would have a conversation with Halsin about Asc. Astarion. Or at least Halsin picks up that Astarion definitely has a leash on tav.]]
“You should visit the grove! Thaniel has asked about you."
"I would love to, and would have to bring this to Astarion's attention so we can make time to go. He's picked up the reigns of being a magistrate again with my help. Seems like such a breeze when everyone is excited to have “Baldur's Gate heroes” in politics,” Sylra a slight bow.
“I assume you do not like it?” Halsin slightly chuckled.
“No more than dealing with politics when we were helping Wyll take his father's place. But he likes it, that's all that matters," Sylra mumbled with a slight shrug. Hiding the frown that formed on their lips behind a sip to their goblet of wine.
Halsin hummed in agreement, but still his gaze lingered in Sylra. Recalling how Sylra was less than eager to deal with politics but still helped when it was needed.
“Surely, Astarion can handle a few meetings with your absence? So you can leave the city for bit. Even the owl bear you helped raised misses you,” Halsin pressed lightly. The Druid never one to fully dance around his words, but was one of the first to know that Sylra was definitely close to the vampire in their former travels together.
Sylra wanted to say no, ignoring the way a knot formed in their stomach at the mention of the owl bear. The cub was missed so much, and not being able to keep him in hurt greatly. But Astarion would instantly shut down the idea of Sylra going off back to Moonrise alone or even wanting to own a little cottage on the outskirts of the city just to see the owlbear and companions. Not to mention an argument almost brewed just from asking to go visit Gale.
“I'm not sure,” Sylra offered quietly.
“As Magistrate, he aims to be Chief of Justice in the city and with me helping him gain votes with the locals it'll be easy, but this requires me to be in the city," Sylra shook their head slightly. A truthful singsong, that was told to explain why Astarion didn't let them stray too far. But in reality, if he didn't want to go then neither should Sylra.
Visiting companions, which Astarion was quick to say wasn't his companions, became an optional task to him. Unimportant. Him showing his distaste for the countryside all the way to Shadowheart's home. Something changed, Sylra couldn't place her finger on it just yet, but Astarion's open disdain that was no longer tied with humor was jarring. Even now, while at the party, he chose to stay away from others and only speaking when spoken to.
Sylra became startled once a heavy hand clamped down on their shoulder. Meeting Halsin's warm gaze,“ Nonsense! Astarion can take care of himself, I'll ask for you!”
Sylra felt their voice catch in their throat, trying to lean over in their seat to catch Halsin to stop him. Holding fright, similar to a child that was preventing another child to go speak to their parent. A slight groan slipped their lips, seeing just how quickly Halsin had beelined for Astarion. And her ever so spouse that looked bothered by Halsin being so close to him.
It wasn't long before ruby eyes locked onto Sylra before flicking back up at Halsin. Flashing a polite smile at first glance but strained smile to Sylra.
“Astarion said yes, Sylra!” Halsin chimed out loud with a chuckle.
Sylra lifted their goblet and gave a polite smile, but that did not remove the knot from their stomach. The false smile on Astarion's lips said it all, that he was not pleased with being asked that. And a conversation will happen about Halsin later when it was just the two of them.
●•◦●•◦●•◦●•◦●•◦
Astarion hadn't spoken since the party had ended, both of them returning to Baldur's Gate and back to the Ancunín Manor. If he did speak to Sylra it was purposely short, nor would he look at them. Even while at the manor, he purposely walked in front of Sylra keeping his distant. In their bedroom, while Astarion began to undress himself, he did not speak then. Still playing the silent game as long as he could to get his way.
“Gods below, Astarion. Enough!” Sylra blurted out, seemingly exasperated that he would still be petting over so little.
“If you do not wish for me to go, I will not. But Halsin merely suggested I visited, and then took it upon himself to ask. That's all! There is no reason for all of this,” Sylra gestured to him fully.
Only a slight chuckle came from him, though he still kept his back to Sylra," As if my thoughts even matter, having others speak for you when you could have just asked me then instead of the Druid." "Astarion-!" "If you wish to go, my treasure, then so be," Astarion stated casually, cutting Sylra off. Ignoring just how Sylra was becoming visibly upset over the conversation.
"No one is stopping you, I would hate for your friends to think I have some type of bind on you. Like the way, Shadowheart says," Astarion briefly sneering at the memory. "So go," Astarion had waved Sylra off similar to dismissing a servant. Sylra's eyes narrowed, heat flushing threw her chest from a wave of anger and mixture of hurt at being brushed aside. “ I do everything you ask me, and you sit there and try to hold this over my head to try to get your way. That isn't fair! “ Sylra snapped, their voice echoing in the elaborate bedroom.
“And just exactly what isn't fair, hm? That I am concerned about your wellbeing? That it is unfair of me to believe you should be here and not in the damned forest, getting convinced to do chores by random strangers that are beneath you," Astarion countered with such viciousness that what growing anger within Sylra had flickered for a just moment. A tone that Astarion has never used towards them, even before the rite of Ascension. "But I am sure Halsin will annoyingly try to stick on you, and you will still naively accept at the kindness of your heart. You never seem to think about yourself fully but stomp your foot when told no, and look at me as if I'm some wretch,” Astarion sneered, fangs baring briefly before he reeled himself in. His features going neutral, a soft smile forming on his lips.
"But you know what? Do what you want, my dear. I shall see you when you get back. Do try to stay out of trouble, my treasure” Astarion mused, closing the space between himself and Sylra to peck their cheek before leaving. Sylra remained planted in the same spot for several minutes, trying to shake the guilt and tension that clung to their frame. A faint taste of cooper feeling their mouth just from the slight chews of the inside of their cheek from anxiousness. Sylra didn't want to go now, not after everything Astarion just said, but to not show for Halsin would not sit right with them either.
●•◦●•◦●•◦●•◦●•◦
What was supposed to be a warm reunion was partially dulled by the last conversation with Astarion. Sylra noticing that Astarion was even petty enough to not tell them farewell but sent a servant instead. But the constant gentle headbutts from the owl bear almost worked in stomping out those ill thoughts. With the sight of the Moonrise towers being actively changed, the sight of the great tree in the center of the town, and with Halsin and the locals preparing a feast for Sylra's arrival. Sylra was almost content, but still longed for Astarion to have come around to the idea of visiting without arguing.
“You know you are getting too big to lay on me, my dear. You are no longer a little cub,” Sylra grunted to the owl bear who insisted on sprawling near them but placed his head in their lap for pets. The pleased soft happy chirps and purrs beg to differ in Sylra's statement. Chuckling, Sylra gave more scratches to the owl bear's ears and chin.
“I am surprised you arrived alone,” Halsin said quietly, moving to sit next to Sylra.
“Mm, he did say yes,” Sylra pointed out, dancing around what Halsin truly meant.
“But it seems begrudgingly so,” Halsin added with a light arch of his brow.
Slyra's lips parted, but a sigh came from them before looking to Halsin, “He needs my support while he works I can not blame from him for that is important to him.“
“Is it? This is just seems like Astarion reveling in control.”
'He doesn't control me or anything I do. He's just overly concerned, Halsin, more so with us being so open about what we did for the city Baldur's Gate,” Slyra said quickly. "Concerned? Over someone that has manned ogres with ease and fight a devil in their own home?" "With all of us being proclaimed heros, he just worries thats all," Sylra said with a light shake of their head.
Halsin silence was heavy, his gaze more often welcomed was now laced with worry. He did not press Sylra, but he was no fool to Astarion's behavior in the city and after the rite. Everyone in camp did not agree with the choice, more so La'zael and Shadowheart who witnessed the rite with Sylra. But it was Astarion's and Sylra's choice in the end.
“I know you care for Astarion, you two were bound to one another before either of you stepped foot back into the city. And, you know, that it is more than that.”
Slyra eyed her hands, slender fingers running through the chestnut feathers, gently scratching the ears of the owlbear who was now falling asleeping. “There are some moments I feel like I failed him or some part of him has been forever lost since the day of the rite, Halsin." "And any conversation about that day or Cazador is almost always shut down so harshly, Halsin." Slyra admitted quietly. The day Sylra mentioned that Astarion was acting strangely was the day he openly snapped at them . Astarion immediately forbidding Cazador's name to be mentioned in their home. Now this was the second time he snapped at Sylra.
TBC
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myriad-of-things · 11 months
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damn, no desire is ever felt so strongly as the desire to write fic when you’re really supposed to be doing something else
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lotus-dly · 2 years
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hyunjin fic recommendations
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— link to first masterlist here
— link to my hyunjin fics here
— ♡ indicates personal favorites
make sure to read the warnings and tags on fics bc some contain nsfw themes
last updated: 7/13/22
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smau’s
♡ crush culture by @1-800-hyunlix
♡ only fools fall for you by @hyunjinspark
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oneshots
three of a kind by @seospicybin
♡ bluff and nonsense by @/thepixelelf
♡ beauty and the beast by @froggybaek
into the mirror by @strayed-quokka
♡ soul with hyunjin by @ballelino
♡ descent to hell by @hwangsify
♡ relumino: to return back the light by @cherrydumpling
inexperienced with hyunjin by @ballelino
♡ moonrise + moonlight by @healinghyunjin
the art of us by @hyuneytoast
coloring with u by @honeyvocalhwang
muse by @strwbrryblues
how to relax: a guide by danceracha! by @bngchnsi
mask off by @yourhwngness
starry night by @oddinarypanda
♡ unspoken by @minkips
♡ bad ideas by @yuggyee
til the end of forever by @chillpills611
♡ serial lover by @charmercharm3r
black rose by @decembermoonskz
♡ there is a light by @straylightdream
neverending story by @crispy-chan
worn out jackets + pt.2 by @scxrlettwxtches
confessions of a wilted flower by @chogiwow
♡ coughing up the butterflies that died in my stomach when you broke my heart by @chaoticminhos
a spell for you by @bandaigaeru
♡ sunshowers in spring by @sulfurcosmos
between the rinse and spin cycle + pt.2 by @leviackermanscleaningbuddy
changing ways by @cherrydumpling
♡ falling from grace by @lixesque
broken thread and lost beads by @cherrydumpling
paint me naked by @hwajin
the socialite - hwang hyunjin by @jichangminenthusiast
귀여워요 by @bugeater101
holding you like this by @lavenderbexlatte
♡ forever’s in your eyes by @late-minhours
backseat driving by @kabira
♡ back in time + forward in time by @changbeanie
♡ forget me not by @hhjs
pizza boy by @hyuwujin
define it by @/changbeanie
♡ because, i love you by @yeostars
four by @wonderlustlucas
just in case by @the7thcrow
easy by @sunflwryu
take me home by @fizzydrink698
not a monster by @sunnytaes
traditions by @/h0neydewmoon
painting you by @/imhereforbrownies
♡ careful by straywrds
candy hearts by skzsauce01
♡ saturn by seospicybin
undertones by cb97percent
just stay with me by straywrds
strawberry skin by hwajin
ice by healinghyunjin
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series
♡ past our burning bridges (ongoing) by @cherrydumpling
♡ hell above by @kim-miyeon
♡ are you ready angel? (on going) by @cherrydumpling
♡ experienced by @ballelino
♡ sharp edges by straywrds
♡ no catching feelings by puppy-byun
♡ the guy next door by jl-micasea-fics
fairy lights by drewexe
♡ pluto by seospicybin
super bored by straywrds
if you want more hyunjin fic recommendations please check out my first masterlist linked at the top ♡
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spiderwarden · 3 months
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people recognizing that far off look Minthara gets, as a result of the injury in her head is my life's blood.
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karmaveil · 6 months
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Quick astarion thought I had. Spoilers? Maybe?
An artistic tav that paints often after hearing that Astarion doesn’t remember what he looks like went to their tent that’s right across camp from his as he’s reading his book as he normally does and begins painting a portrait of him without his knowledge. It took them a couple days in between their journey to moonrise towers but once they were done they excitedly go to Astarion to show him the painting.
“Astarion! Look at this portrait I did!” Shows him the portrait.
“Oh darling. What man could have possibly been your muse for this one? It doesn’t look like gale.” He says fabulously side eying gale.
“Well.. I felt bad that you didn’t know what you look like so I decided to capture your beauty in a form that you can see. I hope it’s suitable…” they say hoping their art is good enough to cheer up their muse.
Astarion takes a moment to look over the painting. Like he’s seeing an old friend for the first time in 200 years. “This… is me?” He asked trying so damned hard not to cry.
“Yeah… do you like it?” Tav looked at him hopeful yet nervous.
Astarion put down the portrait in a perfect spot in his tent and looks at tav with an unreadable expression. Was it happiness? Surprise? It was so different than the other expressions tav has seen on him before. “No one has ever done something like this for me.”
“Well, I love you… Astarion.”
Astarion takes a moment to study tavs face as he thinks. ‘Where have you been. And why do you come to me now!?’ His expression is a mixture of deep sadness and anger but also just genuine love he has never felt in the 2 centuries he can remember. “Yes well.. thank you… we need to rest don’t we? Still got to conquer the world! Haha.” He laughs awkwardly. It’s never been so hard for him to say I love you. Maybe it’s because this time it’s genuine. “Seriously though… I.. I love the portrait.. darling.”
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hawkerights · 7 months
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TAV (WHIMSY) X ASTARION
Spoilers: Moonrise Towers Act 2. Interpretation of the confession scene after the encounter with Araj. PG13. Angsty drabble because I've been obsessed w/ them for years
   The gloom of Moonrise Towers lingered in the distance. What a glum, horrific visit that the party had to swallow- right upon the clutches of their enemies, and yet walking among the other followers of the Absolute as if it were as natural as rain. Every step in front of the other that Whimsy took of late felt heavy- every second was a choice she wasn't sure she was supposed to be making. And to make matters worse, it felt like they were no closer to destroying Ketheric Thorm whatsoever. 
   There was a bit of hope there at camp the night they celebrated with the Groove. But all of that seemed like a distant, foolish memory. A light snuffed out by the uncertainty of it all. By the despair of finding those same hopeful people trapped in the gloom of Moonrise. Somehow, Whimsy felt responsible for their fates.
   All this time, she did a decent job of keeping her nerves bottled, contained- but this? It was beginning to be too much. She was in over her head and the pressure was rising, searing- shaking in her chest and rattling her ribs.
   Okay, she thought. Everything was fine, for now. She was here, safe at camp. The danger and them had enough distance. Whimsy could cleanse the fear from her bones if but for a moment- she could give the others a peace of mind, and in doing so give some to herself. Like she always did. Just- pick up her instrument and let the sound waft into camp to lull her friends to a restful evening. So why was it so hard?
   The tiefling found herself on the edge of the shoreline, letting the water lap across the bottom of her boots. The wind was fell and cold, yet still a welcome feeling on her skin. She closed her eyes, moving her fingers towards her strings and took a deep breath.
   “There you are- I was looking for you.” Called a voice from behind.
   Whimsy let out a frightened yelp, dropping her lute as she turned to the sound, unable to stop herself from reacting before the realization of familiarity settled. It was Astarion, her fair-faced lover, who stopped in his tracks upon Whimsy’s reaction. He seemed to have a look of bewilderment that curled into amusement at the sight of an easily startled hero.
   “Well come now, I know I’m good at sneaking up on people but I wasn’t even trying that time,” He mused, crossing his arms. The vampire stood slightly overlooking her, upon the ledge of the path that came down to the shore. 
   Astarion watched as Whimsy sighed and retrieved her harp, turning to him with a frown, though relieved it was just him. It was a bit unlike her, she usually greeted him with a smile or something more, but she clearly wasn’t expecting anyone to bother her again for the evening.
   “Sorry, I just wasn’t listening for anyone. Uh, did you need something?” Whimsy asked, but Astarion wasn’t focusing on the stammer in her words.
   “I just wanted to thank you. For earlier.”
   The bard rose a brow, placing her instrument against a larger rock. “You’re…welcome?” 
   “It was for what you said- while I was before that vile drow.” Astarion sneered, the mere reckon of her on his lips was enough to recall his detest. He could recollect the smell of her putrid blood trapped behind cold, darkwater skin.
  And of course, how could Whimsy forget. Araj’Oblodra, a potions master who was trading in Moonrise Towers. They ran into her after their meeting with Ketheric Thorm. At first, she seemed like any other shady trader who had no regard for the company they kept if only it meant business. It mattered not to Whimsy- if Araj were to stay around when the time to invade Moonrise came, she would fall with all the rest. Otherwise, she was free to slink back to whatever rank shadow she emerged from.
   It only became personal when Araj demanded that Astarion sank his teeth into her wimbly, toxic neck at her pleasure. Perhaps it was a bit embarrassing in retrospect, but Whimsy had gotten a tad possessive in the moment. Astarion had pulled Whimsy to the side, to beg her not to bid him do this. Much to his surprise, Whimsy told Araj where to stick her demands before declaring Astarion off limits. They spoke not of it again until this moment, but Whimsy hadn’t considered it worthy of gratitude.
    Whimsy nodded, having eased a bit. “Well sure, she was wretched. Pissant sort.”
   She would usually get a chuckle out of Astarion with her colorful vocabulary, but he hopped from his ledge and moved closer to her instead. “It’s just- I spent two hundred years, using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing…It never mattered.”
   Whimsy lowered her head in thought. With everything that was happening, she hadn’t considered how it would have affected Astarion. No- she didn’t feel as though she would have needed too. In the moment, he said ‘no’. That had been enough, and it would have always been. Whimsy was a bit surprised in the moment that he did not want to feast upon a willing victim, but to be quite honest- the way Araj only wanted Astarion’s bite for thrills bothered her. She wouldn’t have been happy even if Astarion obliged her.
   When Astarion gently lifted her chin, Whimsy looked up at him softly. Her eyes were wide with anticipation at his next words, though there was a pang of hurt in her heart for what he was sharing with her. “You could have asked me to do the same- to throw myself at her, and what I wanted be damned. But you didn’t. And I’m grateful.”
   The tiefling frowned, pushing his hand away slowly. She turned away from him, her eyes lurking towards the foggy horizon past the water. “You don’t need to thank me for something like that. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
   Although perplexed by her reaction, Astarion shifted beside her. “A novel concept, I’d admit. And a little intimidating.”
   There was some silence, as Whimsy said nothing. Her eyes wandered to him for a moment when he moved to her left, mimicking her direction towards the lake. Astarion, unsure of the air between them, pushed on. He wanted her to know how he felt, what it meant, and she was being unusually unresponsive to his affection. Afterall, he was trying to give her a token of appreciation. He was trying to connect.
   “It would have been easy to bite her. To just go along with what I was being told to do,” Astarion started again, though this time with a bit more vulnerability in his voice. “A moment of disgust to force myself through- and then, I could have carried on, just like before.”
   He didn’t look at her for a moment- perhaps it was out of shame. He tensed, hugging himself. The thought had crossed him again, filling him with a regret for the centuries he spent sleeping with countless targets against his will- names all forgotten and faces ablur. A night of pleasure, then he would lead them to their doom. It had been so long…further back than he could even recall anymore, that he had someone on his side.
   “So why sleep with me, then? Did you think you’d get something out of that, too?” Whimsy said through her teeth, her voice faltering but terse. 
   Astarion whipped his head to look at her, finding Whimsy struggling to hold back hot tears. Her face was on fire and her gut was in her chest. Everything was culminating in her head and this was enough to tip her over the edge. Sure, perhaps their relationship had always been somewhat transactional- it was fun, exciting in the beginning. The sneaking off, the sweet nothings- dancing around the idea of anything serious and just enjoying one another. But that began to change the moment Astarion dared to play with words “I love you”.
She...she couldn't get it out of her head after that. And anything else felt like rejection.
   “Whimsy-” Astarion began with a jovial, “surely-your-joking” tone- which was his first mistake.
   “Don’t “Whimsy”, me. Tell me the truth. Am I just another moment of disgust?”
   In a second, Astarion’s walls had erected themselves. His expression went sour as he looked down at her, his eyes rolled at her outburst. “I needed protection, of course. People don’t trust vampires- perhaps understandably- so I needed to get someone on my side.” He scoffed. “And seducing you was easy, frankly.”
   Of course. How could she be so stupid? She had fallen harder than she meant to. It was just a game for him, to gain some advantage. Whimsy went quiet, a sickness seeping in. Without meaning too, Gale crossed her mind. His easy nature, the way he made her feel safe. It was different with him. She longed for that understanding and safety with Astarion, enough to pull away from Gale at every turn despite an unspoken something between them.
   Perhaps it had all been a waste of her time. But now, maybe she could finally be sure. Though even as she turned to leave, Astarion grabbed her wrist.
   Little did Whimsy know that the regret of his words bittered on his tongue the moment they left his wretched lips. He didn’t mean to spurn her, it wasn’t his intention of coming. “Wait. I wasn’t finished. Yes, I had selfish motives. I was just doing the only thing I knew how. So imagine how…how stupid I felt when I started to feel something for you.”
   He could see the tears beating down Whimsy’s face, even as her back was turned to him. She didn’t force his grip away, but neither could she face him.
  Astarion continued, trying not to sound as desperate on the outside as he surely was within. “Trust me, Whimsy. I wasn’t happy about it. You- you complicated everything. I didn’t see it coming- I didn’t see you coming. I didn’t know I could have something like this before. And yet…”
   Whimsy turned around, her fiery eyes gleamed with the tears caught on the surface of them. “I love you,” she whispered- it was sudden, reactive, but there was no going back. She had to close the distance between him and her feelings or forever regret it.
   “You do?” Astarion replied, as Whimsy embraced him. 
   He froze, taken by surprise by her sudden hold upon him. When she bore her face into his chest, the warmth of her weeping seeped into his blouse.
   They had held one another times before. Making love, nights of drunken messes. But mostly, there were only the awkward goodnights, or childish teasing. They fronted and tried to play it cool, affection only reserved for nights of passion. But this was different- this was comfort.
   Astarion’s fingers quaked. His body was so unsure, but his mind wanted something else. Slowly, he slipped his fingers around her back before reciprocating her tight embrace. Now that he was here, it felt impossible to want to let go. His knuckles went white as he gripped her clothes, rocking her back and forth. Gods, it was unlike anything he’d felt in longer than he knew.
   Then, a pang of something in his chest. Something adjacent to uncertainty- life grief that had yet to come to pass. How could this possibly last for a mere moment? How could the future look so unrecognizable for the first time? Whimsy’s voice brought him back to reality for a moment.
   “...What?” Astarion asked, having lost the moment to his thoughts.
   “Can I kiss you?” She asked again. 
   Astarion, still embracing her tightly, caressed the side of her face. He leaned into her and shared a moment of genuine warmth. Just enough to let her pluck at his lips with hers, before pulling away. They paused, sharing a deep glance and kissed again, deeply. This time, however, neither yearned for something more at the end. At last, it seemed to be enough. He was enough. She was enough.
   “You’re full of surprises,” Astarion said, through a nervous laugh. “Honestly, I have no idea what we're doing, or what comes next.” He looked down at her, carefully adjusting strands of her hair. 
   “But this? This is nice.”
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