Tumgik
#because we spawned more from him
harbingerofsoup · 10 months
Text
there’s death of the author and then there’s whatever the fuck is up with danny phantom
13K notes · View notes
randomnameless · 5 months
Note
I seriously doubt KT's statement that Fódlan has 10000 years of lore, or at least in the way that piece of information was portrayed in the interview; they might have 10000 years' worth of worldbuilding that was cut from the game because it was either irrelevant to the story and characters or unfinished and contradictory to the lore in the final product, maybe even both, but the idea that they actually had an unimaginable amount of good and deep worldbuilding for the entirety of Fódlan but chose to only portray a fraction of that worldview for the game, especially when what lore is portrayed in Three Houses is very often an inconsistent and illogical mess, sounds utterly ridiculous to me and more like a hype tactic to try and capitalize off 3H's reputation as the “deep and serious war game with unparalled worldbuilding, story and characters”.
because it was either irrelevant to the story and characters or unfinished and contradictory to the lore in the final product
That's part of the issue, anon lol
I've been joking about it with friends, but if the 10k years of lore reveal, somehow, that humans have always vyed for power and created society where some people are treated like trash, regardless of lizard blood and Sothis's intervention - a certain someone's spiel will suddenly become completely meaningless, just like someone's route and ending.
The lore that is portrayed in the Fodlan games is purposedly obtuse and illogical, as you noticed!, because of CF and Supreme Leader - we cannot know the ins and outs of the Insurrection of the Seven, we cannot realistically know what happens to Anselma/Patricia, the WoH will never be portrayed from the Empire's POV, etc etc.
It definitely is a "hype" or rather, some sort of aftersale service boast tactic to pretend the world is large and has a lot of lore and is Very Deep (tm) - because if the games didn't have to dance around Hresvelg Grey, we could get the final word on the Insurrection, whatever happened in Ordelia, why Loog broke up with Adrestia, why Adrestia tried to conquer Dagda'n'Brigid, why people who sided with Nemesis ultimately sided with Willy'n'Rhea, etc etc.
I know the devs were lazy and one of them even forgot the plot of Houses when playing Nopes, but imo the 10k years of lore, bar being a giant joke, reeks of the "we didn't want to invalidate one particular route and one specific character by revealing too much about the world works" argument, even if by combing the script here and there, we can still guess that Supreme Leader's utopia is a mix between what Willy first wanted for Adrestia (and it fell apart the second he left) and what Nemesis/the Agarthans planned for Fodlan (ruling by strength) which isn't supposed to be seen in a positive light.
16 notes · View notes
fefairys · 7 months
Text
see but if juice and i were fictional characters everyone would be all "omg theyre so toxic yaoiyuri theyre so insane i love them" so i think we are cool 😎👍
9 notes · View notes
iwanttobepersephone · 9 months
Text
So, I was lying down in bed, and I had the thought of "what if Halt was actually vulnerable with Will? Like, what if Will asked for help from Halt after they came home from Skandia, like mental help, and Halt responded with stories of his own. What would that sound like?" And I came up with this:
"When you've been through as much as I have, Will, you learn to find happiness in the mundane. I grew up basing my entire personality off two things. Eventually, I was forced to leave, and I had to completely re-learn my sense of self. I didn't have any access to what I used to think was my only purpose in life, and I was homeless in a brand new place with a brand new culture and a language that I only kinda knew. But, being homeless in Araluen, you have a lot of access to nature. And, when I was young, my love of nature was the second of two personality traits. So, I took that, and I ran with it. I would only stay in taverns when it was raining out, and I would spend as much time as I humanly could in the trees, by the river banks, climbing hills, making friends with foxes and birds, and generally just finding who I was. It took me way longer than I'm making it sound, trust me, but I think it helped me once I settled down in this cabin. You, Will, have grown used to trauma being the default, and the downtime feels uncomfortable to you. You need excitement and variety. The mundane makes you feel depressed. But trust me, Will, there is beauty and excitement everywhere here. You just need to find it. And I can help you, if you'd like, but I think it's best done on your own."
Yeah, this is a normal thing to do. Writing entire essays of one character providing comfort and support to another character all while lying flat down on my bed and then retyping it all out onto my phone. I am a sane and normal human being who totally isn't way too obsessed with writing for her own good.
@an1d10t sure I'll tag you. How boutcha read this? Lol
9 notes · View notes
bubblegum-snowdrop · 14 days
Note
why is ur tav in mintharas clothes
Because she knocked Minthara out and stole all her stuff, of course.
Hel [my gal in the sidebar] very much does not like Minthara for lore reasons <3333
2 notes · View notes
yo-yoringle · 3 months
Text
Neil Newbon on Ascended Astarion
Neil: I do love the fact that I got to create kind of two characters in one.
Blue Owl Medic: I was just thinking that. Yeah, you did.
Neil: So now that the game has come out and the whole thing, we can talk a little bit more freely about the game. No real spoilers, folks, because obviously people are still playing through it, which is amazing, including me. But there is an ascended Astarion, which people probably know, as well as an unascended Astarion. I'm not going to go into details of why, although it is all over the internet, but anyway.
But one of the fun things that I got to do with the directors and the writer as well, with Stephen, and also the other writers that contributed towards Astarion, [is that they] wrote this ascended storyline. And so, when I came across that, I realized that 'Oh, his voice probably changes as well, because his whole status changes and his whole situation changes and his power changes.' So I got to do something else, because that would also be an easy way to switch between one and the other.
And so I decided that, well, I've always talked about Astarion being very theatrical. So what if Astarion's unascended spawn is theatrical, and ascended Astarion is operatic, and I use that as a sort of launchpad. So that one is theatre, one is opera. So the two are the same kind of things, but essentially… Do you know what I mean? It's like that kind of thing.
I offered that up to the directors and they really liked it. Kirsty Gilmore was the first person who I tried it with. I think it was Kirsty Gilmore, who is an amazing director. I'm pretty sure it was her session I did the first Lord Astarion and we set the tone there. And that was really cool.
BOM: And I don't know if that was your choice, but he also holds himself differently.
Neil: Yes, he does, he definitely holds himself differently.
BOM: He stands way more upright, his chest is a little more out
Neil: Yes, that's status. That's all Laban work. We're just using completely different status shift changes as well. So whereas he has a lot of flow and all that kind of stuff and it's theatrical and distracting--it's always 'look over here and don't see how I really feel' with spawn Astarion.
With Lord Astarion, we talked a lot about the idea that the cover is now off completely. So that you see him at his most terrible, and it's completely honest and he doesn't have to pretend anymore. So he loses a lot of the flamboyance and the fun of the theatricality, which is all a distraction anyway. That's all distraction so you don't see how he's hurt and damaged and his vulnerability. Lord Astarion doesn't need that anymore. So we just thought, okay, now *mimics taking off a mask* it's off. He doesn't need to pretend, he doesn't need to do too much. It's all about the status and that kind of stuff.
It was a really fun experience to take a character I've been doing for a long time and then flip it. And that was, again, brilliant writing by Larian, brilliant storytelling by them all and brilliant ideas. So yeah, it was really fun.
--from Neil's February 1, 2024 twitch stream
3K notes · View notes
kirain · 4 months
Text
I want to take a moment to talk about Gale's "obsession" with Mystra, because I've had that thrown at me a lot when discussing his character with players who hate him.
Tumblr media
First off, I'd like to emphasize a point that many people already know: Mystra groomed him. Though his exact age when she "slept" with him isn't known, a new document that's been supplied in the epilogue confirms he was merely "eight summers" old when she took him under her wing and sent Elminster to find him. Mystra, in fact, has a vast history of grooming little boys, to the point that many parents hide their sons from her gaze if they show an early aptitude for magic. Though Gale did have other lovers before her, Mystra was really all he knew throughout his childhood, and the power dynamic was not equal. It makes sense that he'd have trouble pulling away from her at first, especially since she convinced him that she/the Weave were his only value in life.
Tumblr media
Second, I want to discuss something most players probably aren't aware of. In D&D lore, there's a place called the City of Judgement. This is essentially D&D limbo, where all mortal souls go to be judged after death. Bad news for atheists, if you don't believe in or worship any gods, you're known as a "faithless", and since no gods will grant a faithless entry into their domain, your soul becomes part of the Wall of the Faithless.
Tumblr media
In short, a faithless' soul will be sucked into the wall, where it will guard the city and suffer endless torment for all eternity. This fate isn't only reserved for faithless, however; it's also a punishment for fallen Chosen or anyone who's been abandoned by their gods. Like Gale. He's absolutely terrified, and he tells you as much if you romance him. If you keep things platonic, he alludes to it during the "go to hell" scene. This is compounded by the fact that raiding demons sometimes attack the City of Judgement, tear souls from the wall, and drag them to the Abyss, where they're used to spawn new low-level demons or to feed their masters. There's no good ending, whether a soul remains trapped in the wall or not.
Gale doesn't explicitly say it, but he's contemplating his own death here, as he probably did the entire time he was locked away in his tower. This is why he's so quick to agree to kill himself for Mystra's forgiveness. It's not because he's "obsessed" with her or because he wants her back, it's because he'll literally go to hell if he can't convince her he's worthy of her twisted sense of forgiveness. By the time we meet Gale, he's honestly over Mystra in all romantic sense, and even more so by Act 2, whether you romance him or not. He's simply...
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
i deserve a cookie or something for finishing postal difficulty while on my period the toll this shit has taken on me is insane dfgdsgdjfg
AND DO NOT EVEN SPEAK TO ME ABOUT WHEN I FORGOT TO SAVE AT THE END OF THE BRIDGE; TRIED TO FIGHT MIKE J AND FUCKING DIED AND HAD TO REDO THE BRIDGE AGAIN.
FUCK THE BRIDGE, EAT MY ASS WORLD, IM FUCKING COMING FOR THAT LAST ACHIEVEMENT WHEN I UNCURL FROM MY 'AAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MY INSIDES ARE BEING RIPPED APART BY RABID WILD HOGS' BALL OF PAIN
0 notes
lassieposting · 5 months
Text
Been thinkin about Astarion + vampire biology so have some headcanons and the bits of game lore they're based on
Dialogue establishes that Cazador has been successfully passing himself off as a regular noble for centuries, and Astarion confirms that while he's considered a bit reclusive, he does mingle with the upper class of Baldur's Gate and has a property specifically for hosting fancy events.
Vampires are camouflage predators, whose primary hunting strategy is to blend in with their prey until the perfect time to strike. Their ecological niche is not a particularly safe or stable one - they live hidden in plain sight, usually in sizeable cities, for easy access to prey, but they know that if they are discovered they will be rooted out and killed or driven away. They are rarely able to get away with attacking in public, where city guards might rush to the aid of a screaming victim - they have to isolate their target before killing it. The ability to blend in, to be overlooked by their target, until it is too late is essential.
Cazador is, as far as we know, the only true vampire in Baldur's Gate
This is because true vampires are aggressively territorial. Like most apex predators, they eat a lot, and need substantial territories to support them - even moreso if they have a partner or spawns. Ascendant!Astarion would need to hold onto the entire city, as Cazador did, to be able to feed himself and Tav without raising suspicion.
True vampires are relatively rare, but there are more of them than there are cities, so it's not uncommon for one to set up in an occupied city and try to oust the sitting resident. The challenger usually believes himself to be as strong or stronger than the current tenant: these territorial disputes usually end in at least one death, so they're not to be entered into lightly.
Astarion is very obviously a vampire: his fangs are visible, as are his bite scars; he's so pale multiple people comment on it; his eyes are red, etc.
Astarion is not a healthy vampire.
This is a man who has been kept on the knife's edge of starvation and tortured regularly for 200 years, and to another vampire, that would be clear from the state of him: Astarion is a camouflage predator who is so malnourished he is no longer able to blend in.
Tav will get an up-close look at his transformation over the course of the game and during the years afterwards: the more healthy and well-fed Astarion becomes, as his body catches up on its immense energy deficit and begins to recover, the better he will be able to mimic a living elf. His skin will be able to bleed, or blush, or bruise, none of which he's capable of while actively starving. Hia fangs will retract until he needs them, not invisible but less obvious - having them out all the time is a response to severe deprivation; he's so hungry his body can't risk losing prey to the split second it takes Cazador to snatch a rat back, so he's permanently in bite mode, hyperaware, ready to strike. Some body functions will come online that he didn't even know he had, the ones that are supposed to help him blend in - his eyes will start producing pigment to look darker, less scarlet and more burgundy, to be more easily mistaken for brown; his lungs will make him breathe automatically even though he doesn't need it, he'll start being able to eat normal food without getting sick again, though he still won't get any nourishment from it; he'll heal faster. He'll even be able to get drunk, though he'll burn through it very quickly. As it stands, all those extra systems have been shut down by his starving body - they're useful, but nonessential, and he needs every single bit of energy funnelled into just keeping him alive and functional.
There is probably an intentional bit of psychological warfare against the spawns on Cazador's part here - him starving them strips them of their natural defences, and every time he makes them leave the mansion to hunt, they have to do so knowing that they're poorly hidden and vulnerable. But it's established that true vampires treating their spawn poorly or outright abusing them is A Thing, so it's not the only reason - he sees them as property rather than people, he keeps them weak so they won't plot against him, he's acting out his own trauma from Vellioth on them, he just wants to - but it does feed into it.
Astarion can, at one point, identify old blood as belonging to the player character. He also gets excited at another point if an enemy character runs away, stating, "Now it's a hunt."
He says that "even stale, [he'd] recognise that bouquet anywhere." This confirms a few things for us:
He has a vastly superior sense of smell capable of identifying individuals by scent and - since he can tell who the blood belongs to even after some time has passed - following scent trails.
This confirms that although city-dwelling vampires may primarily hunt via luring a victim to a secondary location before killing it, they still have the "stalk down and chase" predator instinct. Since Astarion can't lure wildlife anywhere, this is almost certainly how he's been hunting to supplement his diet when he's not using the player as his personal caprisun.
The fact that he can scent out prey before killing it means he has this ability all the time - he can smell blood while it's still safely inside the owner's body.
So scent is probably relevant to how vampires process the world. The more time each companion spends with him, the more he gets used to their scent, starts associating it more with safety and camaraderie than with a potential meal, and so he becomes more relaxed around them. As he learns to link the player's scent with love and comfort and trust, the more likely he is to retreat to their tent over his own when he's injured or afraid or having a trauma moment. When he's fond of someone, something of theirs will go conveniently missing - he's moving their scent into his little safe space, it's comforting for him. He can tell when his lover is hurt or aroused or frightened - though not which of the three applies - from a distance, because his sense of smell can pick up the spike of adrenaline rushing into their bloodstream.
But that also means that he can never feel like he's got any distance from Cazador while he's living in the mansion - even if the man isn't in the same room, the entire place reeks of him, and it makes Astarion feel like Cazador is breathing down his neck all the same. Ascendant Astarion would have a really, really hard time sticking it out in that mansion with stale Eau de Cazador all over the place. It means that he's put instantly on edge by the faint scent of one of his siblings as he walks through the lower city - when seven vicious, territorial apex predators are confined to a single small dormitory, several hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year, fights are going to be nasty and frequent, and although Cazador wouldn't allow them to kill each other, considering how many of his siblings refer to him as weak or a runt, Astarion probably didn't win them very often. So. Having a highkey advanced sense of smell is a mixed bag.
2K notes · View notes
bolognamayhem117 · 7 days
Text
Hot Take: Astarion does NOT hate flowers. You just missed a few subtle hints through Act 1 and early Act 3.
Astarion's negativity is directed toward just about anything remotely pleasant as you move through early act three, starting the moment you leave Wyrm's Rock. First thing after Gortash's coronation he marvels near tears at the colors of the city in daylight. If you ask if he's alright, it pisses him off.
There's other instances I can't quite remember but he's a straight crank throughout early Act 3 and it took me several hours of gameplay to have a lightbulb moment about his newly crappier attitude.
He just spent the last two hundred years seeing everything in the overwhelmingly warm dim tones of indoor lighting via sconces, rushlights, and braziers, or the dingy blue gray of moonlight outside. Daylight colors are something he had more than a lifetime to forget and now that he has a chance to remember that vibrancy in his own home town, he knows he's going to have to forget it all over again either by death or by remaining a vampire spawn forever. The worm isn't going to live rent free in his head forever, and killing Cazador to ascend in his place likely feels like an insurmountable and impossible fight against a literal titan who could stomp him flat without a corm of effort.
He doesn't hate flowers, he hates EVERYTHING right now because it's all going away very soon and if he convinces himself he hates everything then he won't miss it when it's all gone again. He was denied this for two hundred years and he's PISSED at what was stolen from him and PISSED it's all going away again.
He behaved similarly in Act 1 about anyone besides him enjoying physical intimacy. Some of this content was cut, to my best knowledge, but the overwhelming majority of his dialog addressing the PC romancing anyone but him are negative or backhanded. This is for two reasons, I think. A: his Simple Plan just dissolved right before his eyes when you chose someone else which in his mind means he has zero safety net, and EVERYONE gets to enjoy sex (key wording being ENJOY, not simply having) except him... And it pisses him off.
He also gleefully interrupts the bug bear and the ogress, I think for the same reason as the above paragraph, being: If he doesn't get to enjoy intimacy neither do they.
He reacts with anger and disgust at anything he's being unfairly denied. Which... That's fair. His feelings are valid, but his reaction to it is pretty shitty and meanspirited.
The other companions I tend to keep in my party, (that is Lae'zel, Halsin, Karlach, and Wyll) however, are actually appearing to behave pretty patiently with him in Act 3 which I find interesting.
In the instance with the flowers Karlach doesn't bother trying to convince him otherwise of his opinion, she just tells him how they make her feel instead and rather than getting snippy or doubling down he more or less agrees to disagree. I also don't recall anyone disagreeing with Astarion during Gale's last quest tasks when he mentioned that he quit praying to gods who wouldn't hear him a long time ago but to be fair, I think the gods did everybody in this crew dirty and they all know it. It seems like they're consciously giving him the space to be mad about things, is what I'm saying.
Everyone I know including myself who crawled out of a long-term hot garbage situation kinda went wild for a bit with freedom, spoke poorly, behaved strangely, had extreme emotional reactions to things, and made some particularly terrible choices. I think that's just a part of recalibrating yourself, healing and learning how to be okay again.
Point is, I wouldn't conflate too many of the turbo-negative things he says with how he actually feels about anything. We certainly know what he says and what he feels are two very different things.
962 notes · View notes
justporo · 8 months
Note
okay but can we talk about this: when halsin tells tav he wants her (and Astarion) but you're in a relationship with Astarion so when you go talk to him about it he asks "But answer me one thing, this isn't because haven't.... you know... in a while" because oh boy my heart, just the thought of what must be going through his mind
See, this is also what I was thinking about and I would have loved there to be an option to just listen to Halsin's proposition (because he's a national treasure and just so damn pure) but then be like "listen, you honour me, so thank you, but no thank you. I'm with Astarion and I fear there's no more space in my heart." And then go to Astarion and talk about it with him and reassure him that there is only him for you. And because I would have liked that, I'm gonna write it out in a drabble: Astarion / GN!Tav (You)
"First in my heart!"
"You wouldn't believe the talk I just had with Halsin..." You say as you saunter over to Astarion, awkwardly crossing your arms over your chest. What Halsin had just proposed had majorly thrown you off your game - who would have thought the archdruid had it in himself to be so... forthcoming?
Astarion looks up from his book with raised eyebrows but catches your meaning in a heartbeat. He throws his head back and starts laughing. "No way, I was waiting for that to happen actually", he says and puts the book down, then crosses his arms over his chest as well, mimicking you.
Your brows furrow: "How did you..." Astarion lowers his head a little and stares at you. "You must've been blind to not notice the stares he's thrown you since he joined our jolly party. The man's basically a dog barking and salivating at the dinner table that is you - waiting to devour whatever he gets." You blush hard, too stuned to speak and your mouth just falls open - no way this had been actually a thing others had noticed before tonight. But also - can you just hear the slightest strain in Astarion's voice?
"And on top of that", Astarion scoffs "the guy can't stay quiet about 'enjoying the freedom of nature's gifts'. I bet he'd outlaw clothing if he could." The impression Astarion makes of Halsin is incredibly on point, he laughs, seemingly waving the druid's adavnces off but... you see that the laugh doesn't reach the vampire's eyes fully.
Still you are dumbfounded by the developments of the evening, your mouth basically only closing and opening as if you'd been turned into a fish.
"Astarion, I wouldn't...", you finally get out but get immediately interrupted again by the spawn who starts to ramble on about how he doesn't mind, how he'd actually be interested to know how it goes down - and also if Halsin would shapeshift in the bedroom...
And what had been your suspicion from the moment you had started to tell Astarion was now clear for you: no matter how much Astarion would actually be open for you to share the bed with someone else even though the two of you are in a commited relationship - it wouldn't actually be fine for him. Maybe not exactly out of jealousy, but because he is actually insecure albeit he'd never openly admit it. Because he actually does care very much about his relationship to you and is so deeply scared to do anything that will break the spell. So scared actually, he'd rather let you share the bed with someone else despite not being fine with it.
And that makes your heart break because no one should feel forced to do that, right? But luckily for the vampire, you're decision had already been made. More so, there hadn't been a decision to begin with.
"But let me ask one thing", Astarion finally says, his eyes wide now, face open and vulnerable "it's not because... you know... we haven't... in a while?" His eyes almost seem to widen more while desperately waiting for your answer. Even though he doesn't move you can see the fear and nervousness in his posture that is just too tense for his usual nonchalant manner.
Your heart breaks into a thousand pieces: "Oh, Astarion, I'm not... asking for your permission to get nasty with Halsin."
The vampire's face drops completely, his arms fall down limply at his side. You see how shock and hurt start clouding his face. He helplessly opens his mouth: "Oh..." His gaze lowers from yours, flitting around everywhere but your face
Your eyes widen - that is not at all what you meant. "No, no, no, Astarion" - you rush to him and grab him by the shoulders. "No, you didn't catch my meaning. What I'm saying is, I'm not asking permission because there is nothing to ask for. I would never consider being with someone else." His gaze snaps back to yours - his eyes not yet free of worry and hurt.
You lick your lips, desperatly trying to show him what you feel for him. To show him that the reason you hadn't noticed Halsin's interest in you was because you only had eyes for him. And to make sure he knows there will be no one else: "Astarion, you are first in my heart. No, more even, you are the only one in my heart like this - there's no space to share." And because you feel that your feelings might completely overwhelm you, you wrap your arms around the vampire, holding him tightly.
"Oh", Astarion makes again - but this time in a much different tone. He hugs you back, burying his face in your hair.
After a while you lean back and look into his eyes before pressing a kiss to his lips that makes him sigh dreamily. "I'm sorry I doubted you", he whispers, his face still vulnerable. "I'm sorry I made you doubt me", you reply and give him a warm smile.
"Also", you say and grin at him "I think I already had a date with a bottle of wine, a book and a vampire for tonight." Astarion grins back at you and unwraps one of his arms to motion towards the pillows in front of his tent: "Let's not make the bottle wait any longer then."
2K notes · View notes
kalloway · 2 years
Text
no one but me will care about this, but i looked thru my OG Android AU (before I started working on it with Mag) and the order of D10 units that got added is like:
Dio (Brando) -- DIO -- Dionysus -- Ramses -- Prototype #13 -- AuDio
And somehow I have neglected p much all of these, recently lmao
also hello, almost 53k words? my smut doc is literally almost as long rn LOL
1 note · View note
pursuitseternal · 5 months
Text
“Virgin Blood:” Spawn Astarion x F!Reader, nsfw Loss of Innocence Spice for you, darlings…
Tumblr media
Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.6K Loss of virginity
Summary: You’re eager to meet your rogue in the woods, and you can think of no better person to take your innocence than your Vampire Rogue… And doesn’t he just cherish the idea… eager to taste your virgin blood.
Act 1 Romance Retold…
CW: loss of virginity, first time, Praise kink, Astarion takes his time, virginity kink, gentle sex, Astarion more than happy to make you feel all the more beholding to him…
For you, Anonymous sweet thing in my ask box 💞
Ao3 link | Astarion fic Master List
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
“I just hope we don’t have to wait too long…”
Gods, you hope so too. Your body is on fire, and not just from the battlelust of saving lives.
It is because of him.
His little flirtations that have eroded you, his sweet words and greetings that fill your ear each day. The way his crimson eyes already devour you, as if he can’t get his full of your looks.
And then he bit you.
So intimate and foreign.
And new.
Each time now, your body sings when he feeds, and not just because you can feel your blood dripping down his throat and making him stronger.
You feel seen. Desired. Wanted. He hungers for you and seeks you out. Gods, as if you hadn’t been looking for one to do that for you since you came of age.
Something stirs in your body when you are near him, something wild and untamed. Waiting to be released. Your kind never told you what it was between two lovers, only the lessons you found in nature, the rutting seasons of the earth. That was all you knew of… sex.
But to hear him beckoning you, offering you passion like none other, somewhere quiet for just you and him.
Your body aches… burning. Singing. The blood in your veins pumping wildly. You want so badly to be touched and tasted. But mostly, wanting to be seen.
Wanting him to see more of you. All of you.
So, as the party begins to quiet, you watch your Rogue snatch up some blankets and wine, throwing you a knowing glance that makes your stomach twist and leap.
Gods, he thinks of everything doesn’t he?
Others begin to make their way to sleep, but you step into the woods. Your mind firmly set to give him another gift, and this time, you’re humming in your veins, your nerves crying to be touched. Because you want him to receive this, knowing just how much you will undoubtedly receive in return.
Your footsteps rustle softly in the leaves along the path. You follow that pull in your belly, knowing this is the way he wandered. Knowing that he is close…
That Astarion waits for you.
You pass through the trees, drawing to a stop the moment you see him. Gods, already his pale chest on display. Your mouth waters, your skin grows hot, even though you don’t completely know why.
“There you are,” he purrs, striding to close the distance between you. That handsome face is bright with his own intention. “I’ve been waiting…”
He draws still, a breath away from your body, “…waiting since the moment I saw you, waiting to have you…”
You look into that face, the way he just wants you, pouring his desire out over you, and you are ready to drown in it. “And I want you to have me,” you murmur, a coy, nervous smile dancing on your lips. Hells, you probably look like some innocent little thing. “I want you to have me as no one else has; Astarion…”
“Oh, you sweet little pet,” he croons, his face broadening into a smirk so soft, your stomach quivers. “Do you mean…”
“Yes,” you feel your cheeks hot under that lurid, crimson gaze. “I have never been…”
“Taken?” He offers. “Deflowered?” he adds, a deepening to his grin. “Fucked?”
Oh, it’s not that he’s a vampire spawn that makes him gaze at you with a voracious look in his eyes. It only makes you blush bright red and hot in reply.
“I am… touched to be offered such a gift,” he continues in that thick, honeyed voice, clasping your hands both in his. As he raises them to his lips, you are pulled even closer. Your body tingling to feel his frame, his magnificent form, just barely brushing you. “I am a bit surprised, given how forward you are… how wayward…”
“Perhaps it’s just a good fit, you and I…” you force your voice to lilt, keeping your eyes soft as you meet that insatiable stare. Your heart leaps as he licks his lips, making your hand reach to trace over his chest.
“Mmm, I will make certain it is. This gift, to be the first to know your body… it is one I will cherish… and I’ll make absolute certain you will cherish it too, darling,” his smile is breathtaking, almost as much as the way his own fingers wrap tenderly around your cheek, drawing your face into his so closely, his breath becomes your own.
Slowly he bears his teeth, his gaze raking down your neck into the v cut of your tunic. “Tell me, darling, how long have you been dreaming of this with me, fantasizing our time together as you pleasure yourself…”
Your brow quirks as you struggle to find the meaning of such a sensuous phrase.
“Oh…” he croons, the caressing touch of his hands cresting over your shoulders and drawing down your back. Your confusion ignites a new level of anticipation in him, you can see it twisting over those immaculate, pale features. Then he pulls you flush against him. “You will enjoy tonight, I am sure of it. I will too, there is nothing sweeter, I’m sure, than your first blood, your virgin blood…”
You melt at his words, trembling even before his kiss falls to consume your lips. His fingers are so deft, dexterous and featherlight as they tug the rough linen of your shirt up your body. Bunching it. Letting the night air kiss your skin little by little.
And all the while, his lips work smoothly on yours. Nothing so fast and quick as his bites. No, this is deliberate, controlled. A rhythmic dance that traps you against him and draws you closer.
Before you know it, he breaks from that caress to pull your shirt off completely. You gasp, cheeks hot as he looks you over, the gleam in his eye predacious as he scans your breasts, your skin, drawing his gaze to the band of your breeches.
Those eager lips begin to stray from your mouth, allowing you to finally gasp in the free air. But it’s still a fight, the way your body trembles as he kisses the lingering bite marks on your neck from the other night… drifting even lower to the edge of your collarbone, his breath so cool on your hot and flushed skin.
A moan escapes you, a noise you had never made before. And it makes the vampire chuckle, his lips creeping even lower as he cranes his head. His hands catching your breasts, one in each persistent palm. He massages them, fingertips sweeping over your straining nipples.
Those lips and that tongue replace one set of dexterous fingers, making the same sounds issue from your throat again. Louder. Your body wriggling as it catches on fire, like magma seeping from the earth, it boils in your veins and pools between your thighs.
He’s suckling on you, your hands shaking as you long for them to touch him too, running them into his hair. With a sharp breath, he releases one breast only to rub his tongue through the valley of your chest to trap the other one. Worshiping it with equal zeal.
Gods, you feel strange beneath your navel. Full and hot and swollen. And then, another sensation hits you as you shift on your toes.
You’re… wet. Your breeches are soaked. And it makes you shift again, more uncertain.
“You feel it, can’t you?” he raps as he lifts his head, raising to his full height to look down at you. “The way your body has awoken. You stir, and crave something.” The corner of his mouth quirks just once. “Poor little sweet thing, I promise you, you’ll like what’s coming. It’ll make it all feel better.”
Those fingers, so quick and light, pull the laces of your breeches apart before you even know what’s happening. “May I?” he whispers, running two fingers up the inside of your thigh. “You’ll need these removed, you know…”
You nod vigorously, a giggle in your throat as he grins, that glint of his teeth just peeking from his lips. But he doesn’t pull the fabric from your skin. No, he slides those fingers harder into the soft buckskin over your thighs. Then, he steals their pressure between your legs. His brows canting to feel you where you’re soaked. “My, my…” he purrs, “this will be most enjoyable. Your body already knows just what to do,” his lips twitch as he presses them against your lips again, “and so do I.”
Boldness sweeps through you, assured that you have chosen well. He will make this blissful. Make you feel like the sweet treasure you are to him.
Agonizingly slow, he strokes you there, those fingers so eager for action in the field turn all their talents now to teasing your body. You turn away, unsure as he caresses where you’re wet.
“Don’t be shy with me, darling,” he whispers, “you’re doing so wonderfully, you know.” Those hands pull your breeches down, letting them settle at your ankles. “Here,” he breathes as he grabs your hand where it still presses on the smooth coolness of his chest. “You’ll let me show you, won’t you?”
With how silken, how assured and pleased he sounds, you can’t manage a breath in reply. Only a nod and a moan as those damp fingers take your hand. He molds you to his grasp, guiding your fingers into your own arousal. It’s slippery, hot… and then your hands now slip between your folds…
You moan so loudly, your thighs shaking as he presses your fingers deeper into you.
“There now,” he purrs, lips caressing against the curve of your ear. “So wet and slick, you’re a wonder, my sweet little virgin. Your body’s already eager for me, and you don’t even know it yet.”
“Please,” you raps, pulling your hands back towards the apex of your thighs. “Show me.”
“I’ll do so much more than that, darling…”
It’s so quick, the way he’s picked you up in his arms to lay you down in the soft grass. In an instant, he’s shuffled off your breeches, the air wafting over your body, completely bared and entirely hot despite the little breezes of night.
Astarion draws his body to cover yours, so slowly, controlled, as if he plans every little graze of his skin across yours. “Sweet little thing,” he croons as he traps your lips in a quick, gentle kiss. “You’re all mine aren’t you?”
“Mmhmm,” you hum, the feeling of his body lowering all its weight on you, sending shivers down your spine and sparks over your vision. “All yours…” you moan between his full and twitching lips.
“I do so love the sound of that, darling…” With one last little peck on your lips, he begins caressing your body, kissing and sucking your breasts once more before trailing down over your belly. It rises and falls with every heaving, nervous breath you take. “Don’t you worry,” he whispers, “the more you give in to how I’ll make you feel, the more delicious this will be.” He catches your hand again in his to slink it back where you are on absolute fire. That slick between your legs. “Now, close your eyes, and just touch…”
He brings your hands to your folds, dipping your fingertips within. So wet and soft and hot, swollen you can tell, as he draws your fingers at the crest of your folds. “There,” he presses, the little nub beneath your touch so hard, the contact instantly making your muscles clench and burn. “Should the need arise as you think of me, as you remember tonight, as you wait eagerly for the next time you come to my bed… you can touch yourself here for your own pleasure, darling…”
Your body takes over, the rhythmic tracing of his fingers guiding yours… it’s sorcery. Magic. Like fire and ice in your veins as he circles your fingers and his over that little hard bud. You flutter your eyes open, watching as he stares at you, his gaze catching yours with all the hunger and pride and desire you could wish to see. Then, those perfect lips twitch in a mischievous smirk. Already crouching between your legs, he’s licking his lips, lowering his head towards your body as his fingers still tug at you unrelentingly.
So cool and wet, you feel his tongue lapping along with your fingers. Your hips buck out of your control, muscles clenching as one possessed, but it is not in pain. It is flame and ruin and ecstasy that flood along your muscles. Spurred on by his kissing and sucking and lapping between your thighs.
That feeling crashes through you, blinding you as your back arches, your scream tearing from your throat as you writhe and spasm. Your hand goes limp between your legs as you pant.
With a laugh, he places a kiss on your soaking palm before resting it tenderly on your panting belly. His tongue laps up your seam, you can feel the flush of that slick cooling in the breeze and drying on your skin. “Oh my sweet,” he rasps, glancing from between your thighs. “You are doing so well, such pleasure for your first time,” he giggles, “don’t let it go to your head. The best is yet to come…”
You mewl, his two dexterous fingers finding their way inside you now, playing in and out. Instantly, that need reignites, consuming your flesh. Your hands reach for him… for any part of him. You find his arm, his own muscles bunched and bulging as you feel him working inside you. You feel him shifting lower, kissing the sticky skin of your inner thigh, his hand slipping another long finger inside your walls, making your muscles burn as they stretch. “Shhh,” he soothes as you groan and pant and squirm at the pressure. “You’re such a good girl, so wet and eager, this will be delicious. I doubt you will even bleed once I’m inside you…”
He chuckles, watching your body, your eyes wide and wild as that wave begins to wash over you again… the heat, the throes of pleasure you now realize come from his touch. And then he slips his thumb back over that aching little nub again.
“Gods, Astarion,” you keen, your voice rough as you tear apart. Those fingers inside you… your whole body clenches on them, the pressure, the fullness sending you careening into your climax even harder this time. Breathless, you can only make little incoherent sounds, a little louder as he insists on still pumping his touch inside you even as you come.
“Breathe, my sweet,” he smiles, “you’re going to do wonderfully.”
The chill of his touch, his whole body leaves you for a moment. But you can’t look, can’t even open your eyes as you still drift down from your pleasure.
You feel stretched and limp and warm… the gentle embrace of bliss and pleasure you had heard ballads about. You rise up on your arms, and for a moment, that warm comfort runs cold in your veins.
You see him. Naked. Breeches removed as he strokes his cock in his hand. Looking down at you where he stands. Those crimson eyes almost glow in the moonlight. But you barely glance into his face, knowing it’s hungry and needy and salacious.
No, your eyes are mesmerized by his length, so much longer than you had thought, erect and pale. You watch it twitch as he rubs himself slowly. “Shhh,” he soothes from above you, “come here, my darling. I promise you it will only hurt a bit…”
You sweep your legs beneath you, kneeling before him. His fingers caress your face. He takes a deep breath, his belly filling as his cock twitches to see you so close. “Touch me,” he whispers the instruction, your hands joining his as you feel him. So hard, smooth skin stretched over something so unyielding. Etched with pale veins that darken slightly beneath his already pale skin… you run your fingers over it as his own hand stills near its base.
Sweeping your thumb over that thick, blunted head, you make him groan. “Good girl,” he praises, his voice thick with lust in his throat. “Soon, my pet, I’ll teach you to pleasure me in return, but tonight…” he breathes heavily, dropping to his knees with you, “tonight is about your pleasure, your deflowering as I claim your innocence my sweet.” His lips twitch, “which I am most eager to do… a gift I am forever thankful for…”
His eyes glint with intent, possession and pride, his mouth descending to capture yours again. Those powerful arms hug you tightly to his chest, that hardened cock prodding into your belly, twitching each time your mouth moves with the rhythm of his kiss.
Slowly, he lays you back into the grass, those arms that have snapped your enemies in half cradling you gently against his body. One hand slides between you, ghosting that chilling touch between your thighs, the other presses your cheek in his palm, keeping your lips trapped against his.
Then, you feel it, something thicker and harder pressing into that still molten slick between your legs. Inch by inch, he enters you, the roll of his hips against yours almost imperceptible. “Shh,” he hushes you, another caress of those full lips against yours. “You’re so good, darling…”
A bit more, your muscles burn as he slides, that slick coating him, letting his cock inside you little by little. You groan, your muscles clenching at the thickness. And he only laughs and shushes you again. “Easy now, darling, I promise. Those stories of virgins bleeding are only with bad lovers, but I will only ever make you bleed in other ways, other… more delicious ways….” He catches your lower lip in his fangs and bites down, a little nip as pain shoots through you. You groan… hardly noticing that in that moment, he’s sheathed himself between your thighs completely.
Buried deep in your throbbing channel.
“Hells below…” you groan, a wriggle of your hips as you feel the pressure easing. Burning and not in pain. That same sort that consumed you already, only now… all the stronger. “Astarion,” you look into his eyes, how they smile at you, narrowed and delighting.
“I told you darling,” he purrs, a slight movement of his hips, dragging that cock a bit out, a bit in as your mouth hangs open, “I told you I would make certain we are a good fit…”
You groan, not at his words, at the way he begins to thrust into you. Slowly, consistently, letting your body open to accept him. His mouth still hovers over yours, his breath filling your mouth, the taste of your blood still on your tongue and his as he catches it in his kiss.
“Gods,” he groans as your body begins that journey higher, driven by every thrust inside you, the heat multiplying, the clenching of your every muscle catching all the more on him inside you. “You tight, little, innocent thing…” he pants, “you’re going to be the ruin of me.” You feel his lips twisting, smirking against you, his breath coming heavily now too. His arms on either side of you shake, those hips, his body, driving into you faster. You wrap your legs around his waist, your own instincts taking hold, wanting him deeper, wanting more of him thrusting inside.
He groans as he slides to fill you completely, “Good girl,” he purrs his praises again into your mouth. Groans and thrusts consume you, the slide of his body on yours transports you… until you feel nothing that is not him.
It takes you, that press of his hips, that drag of his cock between your walls, you spill into that climax, the oblivion of twitching heat. Your mouth hanging open to keen. His cock pulls all the harder as your body clenches. Hitching, fucking, slamming with everything he’s got inside you, until he’s groaning too, gasping and whsipering in silken tones just how good you are… how tight and perfect….
You feel him inside you, gripped so hard, pulsing as that slick drips from inside. His hands cradle your cheek again, the full weight of his body lowering, blanketing you, pressing you into the earth. “See… wonderful…” he pants, another kiss against your lips, longer, tender. “Something to cherish between us forever…”
He slips from inside you, making you arch and groan at the release. Your thighs shake, even as he lowers to lay beside you, rolling you to lay in his arms. To rest your head in the crook of his shoulder.
A single finger traces your neck, his head lifting to look down your body beside him. “You see, sweet thing, not a drop of blood… well,” he chuckles, “not yet anyway.” Those smirking lips caress over the throbbing vein in your neck. “I would so love a drink of your not-so-virgin blood now…”
“Yes,” you tilt your head, your voice is sultry, heavy in your throat as you keep your eyes meeting his heavy-lidded gaze. “And then, can we… again?”
His brows raise, delighted, genuine surprise lifting those sharp features of his handsome face. “I would love nothing more,” he croons. “So addicted to me already are you?” A single laugh punctuates his words. “Perhaps this worked out better than I could have imagined,” he speaks, almost to himself, that devious, desirous smirk on his lips for a moment before his fangs bite into your skin.
Drawing that first, no-longer- virgin blood.
2K notes · View notes
lina-lovebug · 3 months
Text
I'd Fight The Devil
Tumblr media
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, FINALE
Background: The future heir of Hell is on the way! Alastor has his doubts about being a good father and Lucifer is losing his mind.
_ _ _
(Y/N) Morningstar is due any day now!
That dreaded due date was getting closer and closer and honestly, Alastor didn't know how to handle it.
Of course, he was happy when he found out that his beloved was pregnant. From what he knew, sinners couldn't reproduce! But from a brief (while crying) explanation from Lucifer, (Y/N) is extremely fertile and this could continue happening or just be a one time thing.
Honestly, it broke Alastor seeing her miserable. Her swollen hoofs, going days without sleep because of their spawn kicking up a storm, and not to mention the crying. It didn't bother him that she became much needier, as he was happy to give her all the hoof rubs and cravings she desired.
Alastor felt bad because he hears her confide in Charlie, "honestly, I'm not sure I want to do this again. It feels like my body doesn't belong to me."
He's heard that some pregnant women feel that way, but the way her voice broke when she said it.
He'd never touch her again if she asked.
"Need anything, mon cher?" Alastor asked as she waddled to the bathroom.
"No, but thank you," She smiled. He had been so attentive and it made this pregnancy a bit more enjoyable.
(Y/N) hated herself. Not because she hated their child, no, but because she hated how she felt. She hated that she wasn't enjoying her pregnancy like so many other mothers, and hated how she felt like a prisoner in her own body.
But today: she'd be free.
"ALASTOR!"
A scream awoke the half asleep Radio Demon and he instantly appeared by her side, "what happened?! Are you okay?!"
"I think my water broke last nigh-ah! I'm having contractions!"
The baby was coming.
THE FUCKING BABY WAS COMING.
He instantly got them to the hospital, all while waking up the entire hotel. Vaggie shook Charlie awake, Husker threw a bottle at Angel Dust, and Niffty was frantically killing any bug she saw.
"MY BABY! WHERE'S MY LITTLE PUMPKIN?!"
Lucifer was panicking more than Alastor.
"Oh, my sweet pumpkin!" Lucifer ran to her side as she groaned at the contractions, her horns peaking in and out every time pain lashed through her body.
"Dad, it hurts."
"Where are the scrubs?! I need-!"
"Dad, isn't it the father who's supposed to get scrubs?" Charlie questioned nervously.
"But my baby needs me!"
"What I need is everyone to get the fuck out!" (Y/N) screamed, completely overwhelmed by all of it. Charlie dragged their dad out of the room, and Alastor stayed.
"I'm sorry," She began to cry, feeling horrible about yelling at him.
"You have nothing to apologize for, my sweet girl," His radio voice broke momentarily as he held her hand, "all this pain will be over and we can finally hold our child."
"I already feel like such a bad mom," She cried, "I'm supposed to love being pregnant, but I fucking hate it."
His heart ached for his sweet love. She was in constant pain but hated herself for it.
"I'd never lay another hand on you if it meant you'd never feel like this again," He confessed.
"I'll cut off anyone's hands who touch you."
She smiled at that, "I think. . .I think I'm done after this little one. Definitely need to find out if I can stop being so fertile."
But just as things were calming down, her hand tightened his, and another wave of contractions came. It continued like this for an hour, and with a few more pushes, their child was born.
And even though Lucifer tried breaking into the room, he kept away for a little while longer.
"It's a girl?" Alastor asked.
"Yes. Congratulations!"
"Oh, she's so precious," (Y/N) looked at their daughter, now resting in her arms. She had two small deer horns poking out of her soft head, a ruffle of red hair to go along with it.
"I will give you all the demon meat you desire," Alastor felt satisfied when he looked at his daughter, and felt a pang of happiness within him.
"I think I know what her name is, Alastor," she had been snooping around and found a name from his past, which would make her future husband all the more joyful.
"And what's that, my dear?"
"Manon," His smile faltered.
It was his mother's name.
He looked upon his daughter as she handed him over, her eyes opening to see the Radio Demon - her father.
"It's perfect," He smiled.
"Manon Morningstar."
When Alastor looked at her, all his doubts faded. He remembered how his mother doted on him, loving him and always being his number one supporter and just new that he would do the same for her.
"Can we come in?" Charlie asked carefully with Lucifer peaking in.
(Y/N) nodded and in came Vaggie, Charlie and Lucifer. Lucifer held two giant bouquets of roses, setting them on a table.
"Oh, she's adorable!" Charlie grinned.
"Would you like to hold her?" (Y/N) asked, and her sister happily accepted. The small demon wasn't fussy about being in her arms, just staring with curious eyes.
"Vaggie?"
Her eyes widened, "oh? Me? Uh, I mean, I don't know, I've never-"
"You'll be fine," before she could contest any further, Vaggie was holding Manon. Manon babbled at her, spit dribbling from her mouth as her hand reached up and pulled her hair.
"Okay! My turn!" Lucifer snatched his granddaughter away, staring at the baby with a happy-go-lucky smile.
"Oh you're so precious! I think you'll love duck's! In fact, it's your first toy," He squeaked a small rubber duck with wings in her face, and she began to cry.
"No, no, no, no! Please don't hate me! I love you!"
"I think mommy needs some rest, and Manon is hungry," Alastor scooped back his daughter, and Vaggie dragged Lucifer out as he cried over the fact that he is convinced his granddaughter hates him.
"She's perfect," (Y/N) sighed as she begun to feed upon her, and Alastor gave them both a kiss on their foreheads.
"You're perfect."
1K notes · View notes
babydollmarauders · 5 months
Text
SECOND TRIMESTER — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem reader
part of the el!hughes au
summary: when y/n (Lovie) is having trouble sleeping and her pregnancy hormones are at their peak, Jack convinces her she won’t make his injury worse by riding him.
warnings: NSFW CONTENT, p in v (unprotected), pregnancy sex, slight degradation, praise. (2k words)
notes: everyone’s been asking for a Jack and Lovie smut, so i thought when better to do the first one than when Lovie is feeling extra needy?
Tumblr media
my husband and i lay on opposite sides of our mattress.
i’m curled up on my side, one leg curled up towards my stomach and laid on a pillow, facing my husband but at least two feet apart from him. meanwhile, he sprawls lazily on his back, scrolling on his phone.
i peek an eye open to look at him, stretching out my arm and placing my hand on his naked torso.
Jack glances over at me in thinly veiled amusement, an expression of disbelief curtaining his face.
“so, when i try to cuddle you, you push me away and tell me to stay on my side of the bed, but now you wanna touch me?” he gapes, glancing down at my hand that’s plastered onto his abs.
“precisely.” i state, my voice groggy and words drawled, “we touch on my terms, and right now, i can’t sleep and i need to feel you.”
“but i can’t cuddle you?” his full bottom lip pokes out in an exaggerated pout.
“no. you’re like a furnace and your spawn has made me into one too.”
“my spawn.” he echoes my words with amusement, “is that what we’re calling our baby now?”
“mhm.” i hum in confirmation, readjusting my leg on its pillow and wiggling my body. “i forgot how hard it is to sleep while pregnant.”
Jack locks his phone, discarding it onto his nightstand.
“is there anything i can do to help you sleep?” i mull over his offer, carefully considering each option that my mind thinks up.
there’s only one that really interests me, but as soon as my eyes land on his injured shoulder, i shake my head.
“no.” i finally tell him, but he cocks a brow at my hesitation.
“you sure?” he questions, “because based on the look on your face, i’d say you thought of one.”
i eye his shoulder again, thinking it over once more; but this time, his eyes follow my line of sight before he sighs.
“you’re not gonna break me, lovie.” he ushers me forward until i’m curled up into him, my medium sized bump pressed against his side. “i’m fine and i’ll continue to be fine even if we cuddle.”
cuddle.
he thinks i’m afraid of cuddling him.
he thinks cuddling is what will help me fall asleep.
“that’s not what i want.” i murmur, barely above a whisper.
“huh?” his fingers dance lightly up and down my back, sending goosebumps throughout my skin.
“i didn’t wanna cuddle.”
“then what is it you need, lovie?” he asks in a hushed tone, his baby blues gazing into mine as i look up at him.
i press my lips to his chest, mumbling out my next words, “i wanna ride you.”
“i can’t hear you, baby.” my eyes flutter closed, a silent sigh leaving my lips when i realize i’ll have to repeat my statement.
“i wanna ride you.” i repeat, slightly louder this time.
Jack’s hand freezes on my back, eyes widening just slightly before they go back to normal.
“forget it, i’ll go make some warm milk or something.” i huff, making a move to roll away from him, but his hand wraps around my forearm, effectively stopping me from getting far.
“c’mere.” he orders, darkness clouding his eyes as his pupils blow out.
his chest puffs a little when i do as he says, crawling back over to him and sitting on my knees beside him. i look down at him, hair falling to curtain my face.
“you wanna ride me, baby?” one corner of his lips quirk up in a smirk, “you wanna sink that pussy down on my cock and get yourself off?”
my breathing is becoming labored, my thighs clenching at his dirty talk, and he immediately takes notice.
“you do.” he confirms, “you wanna wear yourself out and make a mess on my cock.”
a whimper draws up from the back of my throat, nodding my head hastily.
“go ahead, lovie.” he urges, pushing the comforter down and kicking it off his lower body.
he’s half hard already, his bulge beginning to strain against his gray sweatpants. my body reacts to the sight instantly, my dampening core becoming a puddle.
but before i can jump on my husband, i hesitate, looking back down at his injury.
“are you sure?” my voice is small and meek, unsure in my actions, but when i look into his eyes, i find them darkened with lust, pupils blown.
“fuck, baby.” he groans, throwing his head back on his pillow. “yes, i’m sure. now please, just ride me.”
he doesn’t have to tell me again, i make quick work of stripping off my oversized t-shirt, laying on my back and hooking my thumbs through my panties before trying to yank them down. but my bump prevents me from getting very far in this position.
“Jack.” i whisper, a little embarrassed by the predicament.
“yeah, lovie?” i can hear the amusement in his tone, making me roll my eyes.
“can you help me?” his face pops up in front of my own as he sits up, leaning over my body.
“i’ve got you, my love.” he takes over for me, hooking his index fingers in the sides of my panties and pulling them down my thighs.
“thank you.” i tell him as he throws the now dampened panties in a vague direction towards our hamper. “now lay down.”
he chuckles at my attempt of demanding, laying back down anyways.
i roll back over and get back on my hands and knees, crawling over my husbands body and hovering over his thighs.
“hi, beautiful.” he smirks, letting his fingers trail up my sides, but his hips jerk when my own hand comes down to palm him through his sweatpants. “fuck.”
i bite my lip, tugging at the hem of his pants until they finally come down just enough for his erection to spring out. i lick my lips at the sight, any other time, i would gladly take the moment to get my lips on him, but right now? i need him in other places.
i crawl higher up his body until my face is hovering over his, lowering myself just enough to capture his lips with mine.
a soft moan pours from my lips to his, my hips lowering to grind upon his hardened cock. his hips buck up, his hand now tangling in my hair as he pulls me in deeper. his tongue grazes my lips, urging me to open up to him, and i do so eagerly, letting his tongue into my mouth to battle with mine.
“Jacky.” i whimper against him, grinding myself down onto him again.
“sit on my cock, lovie.” he gruffs, and it’s just the push i need in order to grasp his length in my hand, lining him up with my entrance before i finally sink down onto him.
my head tips back, a moan escaping my parted lips, and his hand immediately covers my mouth.
“gotta be quiet.” he states, voice strained as my walls envelop his cock. “Luke and El are sleeping right down the hall. you don’t wanna wake them, do you?”
i eagerly shake my head, enticing him to let his hand drift away from my mouth and down to my full breast. he squeezes roughly, pinching at my nipple and pulling it.
my hips grind against his, my clit dragging along his pelvic bone, but i bite my lip to hold back my sounds.
“good girl.” he praises, causing a full body shiver to encase me.
i lift myself, beginning to bounce on his dick, and the squelches of him rubbing through my wetness spur me on, lowering myself closer to his chest in order to hit a better angle.
the tip of his cock hits my g-spot and my eyes roll back, my jaw going slack as i drag my hips up and then back down.
“you’re doing so good for me, lovie.” he whispers, leaning up to let his lips graze the shell of my ear. “this is what you needed, isn’t it? to fuck yourself on my cock like a good whore? get yourself all tired out?”
i whimper behind pursed lips, nodding my head, “yes, Jack. fuck.”
he leans back down, his head back on the pillow as his fingers grip at my ass. a strangled noise escapes his throat, his cock twitching inside of me as i swivel my hips.
“just like that.” he breathes, his hips beginning to buck up in order to meet mine.
my breathing is heavy, my hands forming fists on Jack’s chest as i begin to feel that familiar pressure settle in my stomach.
“oh my god.” my words are panted out, my legs starting to ache, but i push myself to finish.
“not god, baby. just me.”
my teeth sink into my bottom lip, a squeak leaving me as my hips begin to stutter, the knot in my stomach growing tighter and tighter with each meeting of our skin.
“Jack, i’m gonna-” i can barely finish my sentence, being cut off with a whine as his thumb finds my clit, beginning to rub circles into it.
“cum for me.” he orders, rubbing faster with each passing second, “make a mess on my cock so you can sleep.”
my walls squeeze him tighter, my legs shaking and my breath catching in my throat as my orgasm hits me. my hips halt in their movements, but Jack’s don’t stop, rather fucking up into me to ride me through my release.
until finally, he falters, his rhythm becoming sloppy as he reaches his own orgasm, his hot cum spilling into me in ropes.
his hand cups the back of my head, pulling me down so his lips meet mine, and i let him moan against them.
our bodies press against each other, as we lay there basking in the afterglow of sex, my eyelids fluttering open and shut, my body on the precipice of sleep.
“did it work?” he asks me, a gentle hand running up and down my back.
“mhm.” i hum, “are you okay?”
he sighs as i peer at him through my lashes, scanning his face for any sign of pain.
“lovie, i’m fine. stop worrying about me.” i pout at his response, nodding my head and laying it down on his chest.
“so what made you want this?” he questions, “the last couple months if i even try to insinuate sex, you look like you wanna beat me with El’s blocks.”
i press my lips to his chest, stifling a laugh.
“damn second trimester hormones.” i huff, “i’m so horny all the time right now.”
the corner of Jack’s lips quirk up in a smirk, “i think i love the second trimester.”
“shut up.” i giggle, rolling my eyes as i finally lift myself off of him, getting off the bed.
i leave my husband behind in order to use the bathroom and change back into my t-shirt and some new panties before i lay back down.
“okay, you can cuddle me.” i decide right after a hefty yawn.
“too late.” he says, an exaggerated pout playing at his lips. “i don’t wanna cuddle anymore.”
“too bad. i’m your wife and i want cuddles now so i get cuddles, because i’m carrying your child.”
Jack feigns an exasperated sigh, pulling me in so my back lays against his chest, his hand resting on my bump. he peppers light kisses up my shoulder and the side of my neck.
“i guess.” i can hear the smile in his tone, making me giggle.
“there is no guess. you love me.” i state, my hand coming down to lay on top of his.
“yeah, i love you.” he playfully concedes, pressing one last chaste kiss to my neck. “so much.”
“i love you too.”
sleep pulls at my consciousness, my eyes falling closed as i let out one final yawn, and just before i fall asleep, i can register the feeling of Jack’s hand soothingly rubbing my bump.
1K notes · View notes
glitteryinknotes · 6 months
Text
There is a level of deep, bitterly poetic and cruel irony in Astarion's death and his eventual fate as a vampire spawn. Laughable, even. Lamentable.
Where do I even begin. I once posted here my thoughts on who Astarion was before Cazador took him; and all my thoughts were based on what we can assume to be canon from scraps on information in - game and interviews with Neil. That Astarion Ancunin who was laid into the ground at Baldur's Gate cementary was a corrupt magistrate, a shining example of power abuse, indulgence, hedony, existence in privilege without any service to the world around.
We also know for a fact that Astarion is not a good person in a moral sense. Again, Neil Newbon himself talked about it. He has capability to grow, mature, open himself up, soak in the positive influence and feel for others, but he never will be the default upstanding type. That is simply not at his core.
This is why (I am aware we're talking a fictional character, headcanon is free to all in whichever way they think it suits and pleases them) I cannot for the world believe in all the fanfiction based on the notion of the tragic, tortured soul unjustly attacked and turned into a vampire, because to me - it misses the entire depth and essence of Astarion's personality and arc. He was not a "worthy" persona before Cazador; in fact, the beating he got from the Gur was well - deserved and the near - death experience... Probably so as well. Maybe if anything, this would open his eyes and force him to reflect at least a bit on his choices in the position he was occupying. (But given that he mentions begging Cazador to turn him to be able to take revenge, I highly doubt that.) So yeah... The man got what was coming to him. He deserved it.
But what he got in the end once Cazador allowed him to drink his blood and had him in his hold? Two hundred years of misery and abuse beyond description, being completely stripped of any identity and personhood? No one deserves that. Such fate should not be thrust upon anyone. Ever.
It is the cruellest, most wicked twist of fate that it took that kind of ordeal to change a corrupt little elf's view of the world and force him to even acknowledge the existence of evil deeds and abuse of power - something I am quite sure he never gave any thought to before. It took being transformed into an utterly helpless victim to make him truly see that there is good and bad and perpetuating the bad leads to pain and misery for the innocents (and you can never be sure if not for you as well), and only then, at his most pathetic, most vulnerable, after centuries of torment, it took meeting, trusting, admiring, being grateful to, befriending / loving and being influenced by a genuinely good and kind person (probably the exact opposite of who he was before) to shake and cause some shift in his inner moral compass, or rather the way he was choosing to use it. The full circle, a poignant, unwilling journey from the one abusing power, to the enslaved puppet of someone with considerably more power abusing it in the most inhuman ways possible, and this time to his own woe, to the one person able to break the abusive cycle given the right influence.
Isn't that simply poetic in the most sickly sense? A tragicomedy, if you will.
Forget about Astarion Ancunin. The grave was good for lovemaking and sharing an important moment, but whoever was laid there was not anyone worthy of your time (just like "Ascended Astarion" )The one who stands by your side now is. Your Astarion. The new Astarion, the same "lovable rogue" with a taste for theatrics, drama, debauchery, beauty, murder mayhem and loose morality, but - a better person all the same.
[follow up post here
https://www.tumblr.com/glitteryinknotes/733162725841289216/a-little-follow-up-to-my-previous-post?source=share]
1K notes · View notes