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#so what really happened was that: i was supposed to click on astarion in the turn list
shatouto · 7 months
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i did a dumb friendly fire and blew off nearly half of astarion's hp (i'm so sorry astarion)
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justporo · 4 months
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Shooting Stars
A night of star showers is imminent in Baldur's Gate. You couldn't think of a better way to spend it but with Astarion and a sparkling glass of champagne in your hand - and lots of teasing banter- until the first star comes shooting. Because of course: there are wishes to be made and hopefully to be fulfilled.
MASTERLIST | AO3
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Author's Note: Time to cook of the 2024 season! I originally wanted to use this for the Winter Challenge as well but eh, I rather wanted to take my time (and I'm happy about it - I'm only getting back in the saddle with writing now, break was very much needed). So have this piece of fluff, that is hopefully something for the soul to kick of this year of writing! This wonderful artwork was done by the lovely @britonell (thank you so much!).
Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)
Warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff
Wordcount: 2,9k
Song: All This And Heaven Too - Florence + The Machine
~~~
“Shit, I think I ripped one of my stockings”, you cursed while you rearranged your seat at the edge of the roof. Astarion relaxedly sitting beside you clicked his tongue and looked judgingly at you - but you knew he was only teasing. The sparkle in his ruby eyes spoke of nothing but affection and admiration as he looked at you and then towards the glittering night sky.
Tonight a shower of shooting stars was supposed to happen. The whole city had been raving about it for days since astronomers had shared the news of the upcoming celestial event. Probably every one who could afford so would be out and about to catch a glimpse of some of nature's magic. And of course - as was custom - to make some wishes and hope for the falling stars to kindly fulfil them.
Some of the stars on the firmament were twinkling already, as if they were shimmying, getting ready to fall out of their sockets and travel across the night sky. To grace all beings below them with their fleeting beauty.
Never had you seen something like this and you had been brimming with excitement from the first moment you had heard about it. You wouldn't want to miss it for the world.
When you had asked Astarion if he wanted to watch the star showers with you he had lifted one eyebrow and given you a kind of condescending if playful smile. Then, when he had answered his voice had dripped with sarcasm: “Oh darling, why would we need to watch some beautiful fallen stars when I already have one right in front of me.”
You had almost barfed onto his feet. Astarion had looked offended.
Then you had lost it so hard laughing that your vampire had needed to hold you up by your elbows so as to not let you slide onto the ground while you suffered from your hysteric fit.
“Astarion, love, you already have me - you can scrap the cheesy lines - please?”, you had pressed out through laughter and buried your face in his chest while Astarion had pouted a bit more about your snide remarks regarding his flirting techniques.
Of course, he hadn’t stopped. In fact, he’d made it a game over the next couple of days to come up with even much worse lines while you always desperately tried to keep it together.
“But darling, all my wishes have come true already with you by my side.”
“Love, I believe the night's cancelled. All stars are already in your eyes.”
“Oh, my heart, I’ve already fallen hard for you, why would you need another star?”
They got progressively worse the longer he kept going - and incredibly less inventive.
But of course you were still swooning on the inside, at least a little. Because after all, how couldn't you? Knowing that Astarion was indeed in love with you and that he really meant his words. Well, once you scraped all the gooey honey off it. What lay beneath was very sweet and much less sickening.
This game of his had gone on for several days until the night had finally arrived - and until even Astarion had almost run out of stupid pick-up lines.
The both of you had decided to dress up, just for the hell of it. This being one of the things you had adopted quickly from Astarion: indulging yourself, taking care of yourself and dressing for yourself - and for him of course, because you could never get enough of the stunned looks he threw you.
You were in a dress that Astarion had gifted you some time back and that was embroidered by the man himself. And the vampire in a finely stitched doublet that made him look positively regal and smoking. There was a fair amount of staring happening from both sides, hopefully not distracting from the actual event later on.
Then with lots of giggles from your side and terrible cursing from Astarion you had climbed onto the roof of your little Baldurian townhouse. This man could never do anything without commenting on it. When you had pointed out as much, he had narrowed his eyes at you and looked tempted to drag you down the small ladder again that led up to the roof. But you had swiftly moved out of his reach with a cackle - not without also making sure to give him a good view of your behind first by deliberately swishing open the slit in your skirt.
Carefully, you had scattered towards the edge over the old shingles then, until you could carefully settle down.
Obviously not carefully enough though since you feared that the delicate sheer fabric covering your slender legs might have been torn on a sharp edge when you had sat down. But it didn’t really matter. Astarion had already promised he’d rip these stockings off you (together with the set of naughty underwear you’d chosen specifically for him) with his teeth later in the night. Really, you were just presenting an opening for your eager lover.
With another curse under his breath, the vampire sat down beside you although he did so elegantly and immediately evoked the image of a lounging cat. The grace of the rogue really was unmatched.
You leaned back on your hands and angled one leg, putting it up on the edge while the other dangled over thin air. Astarion almost mirrored you with the way he seemed to sit comfortably there, leaning back, legs slightly spread and hanging over the edge while he observed the glittering night sky.
“Love, that’s no way to sit for a lady”, Astarion teased you with a promising grin while he eyed your angled leg, clad in nothing but a gauzy stocking, adorned with a delicate lace rim at the very top of your thigh - which was almost completely on display for him.
You angled your head at him and swayed your leg a little so the slit allowed for an even better view of your leg - careful to only tease for later.
“Good thing I am not a lady then”, you replied to your vampire, tongue in cheek.
“Oh yes, my love, it’s for the best. The way I’d single handedly ruin your reputation later tonight would be scandalous,” Astarion replied while he devoured you with his eyes from under his brows. In his head you could bet he was already letting his teeth graze over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. Oh, it would be a night to behold.
You laughed softly, throwing your head back. But then you let your leg softly fall onto the other, giving at least the illusion of decency again.
You grinned at the vampire, the vampire grinned back with promise.
Nothing would ever come close to this, to being with him: the playful banter, the easy companionship, the intense intimacy. You hummed contentedly while you slowly ripped your loving gaze of Astarion and let it wander over your surroundings.
Below you the streets of the Upper City seemed to fill up with the whole population of Baldur’s Gate. Of course everyone wanted the best sight of the night sky - and Upper just had the best spots. And what a good thing that you still had the vantage point even with all those people trying to find a neat stargazing spot.
Idle chatter drifted up towards you. People had brought food and drinks and a continuous hum of anticipation filled the cold night air, but you barely even noticed. For you there was merely your soulmate and you up on the roof of your home.
Behind you you had two crystal glasses waiting to be filled with some bubbling champagne Astarion had insisted upon. “If you’re going to make me sit up on some godsforsaken rooftop during wintertime only to crane your neck at the night sky you can look up at every night, I might as well bring a drink”, he’d said and rolled his eyes while he had grabbed not one, but two of the expensive bottles. You had simply shrugged - you wouldn’t say no if drinks were involved. And since you had figured out that it had been nearly half a year already since most everything had been dealt with, you felt it was only appropriate to celebrate this fact with a drink.
The vampire had whole-heartedly agreed when you had told him your observation. Astarion, of course, had been very well aware of that even before. He hadn’t stopped counting the days since his life had taken a turn for the better and, perhaps, he never would.
Up on the roof the rogue now procured his dagger, threw it up to flip it artfully and only then - when he was sure that he had your full attention - he took the first bottle with a sly grin. And then, in his histrionic manner, he swished the sharp blade up along the curve of the bottle neck and cleanly took off the head along with the cork.
Champagne immediately started foaming out of the bottle and Astarion was quick to grab the crystal glasses, both in one hand, and elegantly pour you each a glass of sparkling wine.
Somewhere below you heard someone yelp - apparently Astarion had unconsciously managed to hit someone with his display of skill. You looked down and saw an older gentleman rub the back of his head and turn towards you.
Quickly grabbing Astarion’s arm to make him pull back with you, you dragged up your legs with a giggle, hoping you could hide from the unwilling target. The vampire grinned broadly at you while he kept pouring - that little rascal.
You had to be honest though that you’d been quite impressed with the display of this dextrous if wholly unnecessary talent. It was after all very fitting for the flamboyant elf. But your adoration must have shown because the vampire was grinning proudly at you as he handed you a glass.
Time to get his ego in check again before it became too massive.
“Where’d you learn that?”, you asked after you had clinked glasses with him. “Rich prick academy?”
Astarion almost snorted into the glass he’d been taking a sip from. He recovered quickly though. “Not my fault they taught you neither that nor manners, you insolent little thing.” He clicked his tongue and took another sip of bubbly.
You waited until he had lifted up the drink filled flute to slap his arm.
His drink sloshed, some spilling onto him.
The look of that combined with too much force you had used to get back at him almost made you lose your balance. You screeched, gripping your glass as if it could stop you from falling.
But thankfully Astarion quickly grabbed your wrist with roguish reflexes, pulling you back and thus prohibiting you from falling off.
Your heart was racing from the sudden rush of adrenaline. The vampire was only laughing as you recovered from your self-inflicted fright. And you hadn’t even drunk a single drop of alcohol yet. So you made to catch up and lifted the crystal to your lips.
“Darling, don’t break your back falling off this rooftop, yes?” Astarion said, choosing this exact moment to break the silence again. “I have way better options to achieve that if you should insist upon it, my heart.”
You choked on the prickling drink and started coughing. Immediately, you were almost ready to push that bastard again, risking falling off once more. Astarion in the meantime smirked smugly at you while drinking his champagne in peace now.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time”, you croaked pathetically after barely being able to talk again. Somehow you seemed to draw the short end of the stick fairly often when it came to trying to out-sass the pale elf. But he had more than 200 years on you with that - give or take. You’d get back at him one of those days.
The bickering went on for some more back and forth until you had each downed your first glass, then a second while you were both laughing profusely and you started to feel the alcohol make your mind a little hazy.
Astarion refilled the glasses once more and you just kept talking - about everything and nothing. It was always so easy to just spend time with each other. It almost felt like you had been together a whole eternity already, in the best way imaginable.
“So, what are you wishing for?”, you asked Astarion emboldened by the alcohol while you were working on emptying your next glass of champagne.
The vampire inclined his head towards you and softly shook his head in disappointment: “Love, have they truly taught you nothing? You’re not supposed to tell or it won’t come true!” He softly clicked his tongue while you stuck out yours towards him. You kept looking at him in anticipation - but he was firm on not losing a word on the matter.
After a while you gave up with a dramatic sigh and gulped down the rest of liquid in your glass. Neither pouting at him, bribing him or even offering another glance of your precariously clothed legs seemed to work.
You though knew exactly what things you’d be wishing for: for him and you to be happy - that was the most important thing, to find a way to allow Astarion to walk in the sun again, a long and happy life for all your friends you hadn’t seen in a while now, to have things stay like this forever or at least to be able to always come back to moments like these.
You really deeply hoped this would stay with you: the unconditional love, the deep trust, the easiness with which the two of you spent your days and nights now with each other.
Some time ago you had feared that once the permanent tension of your adventuring days was over there wouldn’t be much left for you. That Astarion would just realise that you were barely more than a former street kid and thief - and pretty much boring beyond that.
But it hadn’t been like that. Quite the opposite: every day seemed to make the vampire fall harder for you. And you knew that was surely true from your side. It was like every time you looked at him another small piece of your heart was permanently handed to the vampire who you trusted fully to handle it gently. And perhaps the same was true for Astarion’s undead and unbeating heart in his chest.
You kept gazing at him and enjoyed just listening to him talk beside you while you sipped on your drink. The wind was drifting through both your hair, pulling some light strands of your hair with it while it merely tugged softly on the rogue’s curls. His side profile was sharply illuminated by silver moon light, pronouncing his straight nose, sharp cheekbones. And not to forget his ruby red eyes that always caught when you were staring at him and then sparkled in delight.
You could just spend eternity with moments like these.
Astarion was currently telling you about a book of poetry he was reading at the moment, looking up at the moon and the stars with a slight smile on his lips when a murmur started to move through the crowd below you.
Both of your ears perked up a little as the people became louder. And then when someone even screeched and you saw someone pointing up at the night sky as you leaned forward you realised what it must mean: shooting stars.
Your head snapped up and you caught a movement out of the corner of your eye, just the disappearing tail of a star racing across the darkness. With a gasp you grabbed Astarion’s shoulder without looking to get his attention. The vampire immediately complained but was silenced when another falling star shot across the sky - this time clearly visible for both of you.
The people below were buzzing in excitement now, loud “oohs” and “aaahs” were heard in the chill winter night as the stars become more and more frequent until bright white curves of sparkles were drawn across the sky every few seconds.
Your eyes widened as you beheld the wondrous event in front of you, completely entranced by what was happening. Truly a magic that was unmatched in beauty, a spell woven over everyone that was lucky enough to catch sight of it even for only a moment.
The vampire observed the falling stars with you for a long while before he slowly turned to you.
Astarion looked at you, still fully smitten by stars falling from the sky, eyes wide and shining, lips parted slightly.. He drank it all in: the wonder in your eyes, your beautiful face, the love. You see the latter reflected on his face when your gaze flicked to the vampire and back up to the sky to not miss a single star.
But Astarion’s gaze kept lingering upon you. Not wanting to ever forget even the most miniscule of details of this moment while sparks of light kept dancing over your face and your ever broadening smile.
He hadn’t lied, calling you his star.
Because his biggest wish, although always unspoken, had already been fulfilled.
Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna
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thatfreshi · 7 months
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Possible request, one evening Astarion and Tav are cuddling, Astarion laying his head on their chest as Tav gently combs their fingers through his hair when they start softly singing an old elvish lullaby. Causing old and once thought dead memories to slowly come back to Astarion as he snuggles closer to them as he reminisces his past even shedding a few tears for the life he should of had and Tav is there to hold him and comfort him through it all
Recommended Song: Come Out and Play - Billie Eilish
It's well known between you and Astarion that he does not dwell on the past. After all, what's the point in grasping at something you can barely remember? Sure, he has glimpses of people, places, things, but they don't mean anything. If he tries hard enough, there are almost words to go along with the blurry faces, but nothing worth his while. You don't ask him much about those fuzzy thoughts, only when you're really truly curious.
One night, you're lying in bed after a 'family dinner' with your old companions, a little event you liked to put together every now and then. Astarion loves the attention, but it is in fact a little draining hosting your house, especially to your friends. The two of you are exhausted, and your sweet vampire nuzzles into your chest.
"I love them, but gods are they rowdy."
The two of you chuckle lightly.
"You know, I remember I said I thought domestic life would be boring, but perhaps I was wrong. Seems much better in our little world. Much calmer."
"I'm surprised you haven't gotten us into any more trouble yet. No stray crimes I'm unaware of?"
He doesn't answer for a moment.
"No... except for that necklace I got you the other day."
You feel the muscles in his face move, assuming he has some mischievous smirk across his lips.
"Oh Aster, whatever will I do with you?"
Your hand makes its way into his hair, slowly moving through delicate curls.
"Love me for who I am and never ask me to change, ever?"
You sigh.
"I suppose."
Sugar-coated words, soft hands, empty minds. Your mind wanders, the tired feeling merciless. The cozy, exhausted feeling reminds you of a song, and you begin to sing softly. At first, it's nothing but melodic little words, until you get a little further in. Something clicks in Astarion's head, something strange.
It's sunny, he's out on the docks, sitting next to an older woman. She's humming the song, and the two of them are just staring out at the water. He's fidgeting with something in his hands, some kind of charm. The sun is beating down on the two of them, but neither seems to mind. The melody fades out, and the woman puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Come, time to go home darling."
As fast as it came, the memory is gone, and he sheds a couple silent tears. You realize his breathing has quickened.
"You alright my love?"
"What... what's that song?"
You have to think on his question, unsure really where you'd first heard it.
"I don't know. My parents knew it, and I guess I just picked it up. They'd sing it during peaceful moments. I guess I do too. Why?"
"It brought back something. I think- I think I saw my mother."
Even uttering the words makes the tears fall faster. He's never had a vision of the past like that, nothing so substantial.
"Was it nice?"
He tries to catch his breath.
"Yes. It was."
"You want to talk about it?"
The emotions are confusing. Astarion can't figure out if he's happy, sad, or just shocked.
"We were just watching the water, and then she told me it was time to go. She called me darling..."
He continues to cry into your chest, and you just hold him.
"I guess you know where you get it from now."
A small smile takes over his lips.
"You're right. I guess I do."
That smile is quickly erased by guilt.
"Do- do you think she's still out there? Wondering what happened to her son?"
You frown, knowing he wants to hear the truth, but knowing it might hurt.
"I think any good mother would still wonder. Especially with a son like you."
His grip in your side tightens, as if he's afraid of something.
"Is it bad to say it's easier to think she's already dead? That she doesn't have to wonder anymore?"
"No, not at all. You can feel however you need to about it my love. I imagine with how long elves live, it would be a long time wondering."
He lightly laughs.
"It is worse to say I think I'd be too scared to look for her?"
"No. But why would you be scared?"
"Because I wouldn't be her son anymore, not the one she knew. Just some vampiric freak."
You trail your hand softly across his back.
"You're not a freak Astarion."
"You're probably one of the only ones who'd say that my sweet."
The two of you are too exhausted at this point to have a full conversation, just sentences traded back and forth, words you don't fully remember. But you do know he thanked you the next morning, for bringing back such a pleasant memory.
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kittenintheden · 3 months
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ok but what if Astarion comes upon Tav very focused on sketching, and he flirts up a storm offering to model nude, but the serious artist Tav immediately agrees, and sets up an elaborate stage with candles for him before Astarion even knows what’s happening
Astarion receives a giant ass paining of him reclining like the girl from Titanic, and he can barely fit it inside his tent but dammit he’s never not going to hang it up, so every time Gale comes to pick up a book Astarion stole borrowed Gale gets an eyeful of gloriously naked Astarion
"Where in the Outer Planes is that damn book?" Gale shifts through his towering piles of tomes, each threatening to topple at any given moment. Yet they never do. Strange.
The great wizard of Waterdeep makes an exasperated noise, scanning the floor of his tent once more with his hands on his hips. When he comes up empty once again, he throws up his hands.
"Not like I needed this mana, anyway," he snipes, raising his hand in front of him to gently pass it through the material plane and into the Weave, pulling a comforting thread close and using it to draw a familiar rune in the air. He speaks an incantation, focuses on the book he desires, and releases the spell.
Gale's eyes glow with violet pinpoints in the center, granting him mystical vision to follow a winding trail that leads... directly to the vampire's tent.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I was Mystra's Chosen. I really should be able to deduce that the thief is the most likely candidate. No matter."
His robes brush across the dusty ground as he makes his way over. He doesn't bother announcing himself, seeing as Astarion never gives him such a courtesy. Or any courtesy at all, really.
"What have you done with my-" Gale cuts himself off as he enters the man's tent, jerking his head to one side as if he's been slapped and raising a hand in front of his face.
"Do you like it?" Astarion says from where he reclines on his bedroll, the book in question open on the ground in front of him. "Aren't I majestic? Tav's quite the artist, I must say. Very disciplined."
"Tav seems to have exaggerated certain proportions, if I'm honest," Gale says back testily, his eyes still averted from the massive painting that takes up the entire rear wall of Astarion's tent.
"Yes, the ears are a bit too long," Astarion agrees, looking upon his own oil-painted visage, reclined much in the same way he is now, surrounded by draping red silks and candles, and very much in the nude.
Gale heaves a mighty sigh and holds out his hand. "My book, if you would."
"Oh, fine. I'd think someone from Waterdeep would have better appreciation for the arts, honestly."
Gale feels the heavy weight of his copy of "Mystical Familiars and Where to Find Them" sink into his waiting palm. He waves it at his campmate.
"Good evening, Astarion. You seem to be in your favorite company, so I'll be on my way. Wouldn't want to interrupt."
"Ta," Astarion says with a wave of his fingers. After the tent flap swings shut once again, he admires his portrait once more. Tilts his head just a bit. Clicks his tongue.
"I suppose it is a touch asymmetrical. Pity."
He blows it a kiss nonetheless.
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blackllghtshadow · 3 months
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The temptation of desire
Summary: you are Astarion invites you to a vampire ballroom, he gets so exited that you end in your room with him pressing you against a wall
Warning: +18 content, explicit, sex, blood.
You have been warned!
The ballroom was big, elegant, in the land of vampires was where you were, a human who was in a vampire's ballroom, the place was mesmerizing, the chandeliers shining, the vamps talking one another, all dressed in amazing clothes. 
To be honest you were only there because a certain vampire asked you to go with him, you heard that sometimes vampires would invite humans into their grand parties, living, walking food to play around a bit, and satisfy their carnal desires. 
Astarion had sent you a bright elegant vampire dress that had a revealing of most desirable parts of human flesh, your long hair was styled so your neck could be seen, the dress was open in the chest area, revealing the slight curve of your breasts and nothing but the grace of god holded the fabric from moving, it also was corseted to show the feminine curves that your body owned with pride, the dress was shorter from the front showing part of your thigh and long on the back, you had a necklace around your neck, Astarion called you delightful sensual while he placed the necklace around your neck, Honestly you were not okay with him calling you that, he looked at you like he wanted to eat you and jump your bones at the same time, he didn't. 
So here you were standing alone in a vampires party, you looked around for one particular vampire, all you could see was the numerous vamps around you, some of them holding wine glasses with a crimson liquid that wasn't wine exactly, the vampires had a liquor called Bloody Ambrosia it was a mixture of blood with gin, you on the other hand hold a glass of a Bloody Mary, a classic cocktail that for some reason the ball had, After what seemed an eternity you felt a hand on your hip and you looked to your side, Astarion was standing there smiling at you, flashing his fangs at you like if that would make you drop your panties. 
It didn't have an affect on you, you already knew him, you knew what he wanted by the look he gave you, you just slapped his hand off your hip, he frowned tilting his head. ���What's the matter?” he asked lost in why his charms didn't have affect on you, for all he knows every human especially woman, felt for his charms, this wasn't supposed to go like that in his mind you were a total enigma, and that pulled him to try and get you were he wanted you, around him, on top of him, in front of him, next to him, under him. his mind was racing with everything that would happen once he had you. 
You were about to answer when a inviting music started to play, It was time for the vamps to dance, you look around and saw many vamps offering they're hands to other vampires, some were offering a dance to some human woman as well, you were all so surprised by the sights that you didn't realize that Astarion was offering his hand to you “may you join me in this dance? “ he says and your attention goes to the vampire, you policy accept his offer and take his hand, he moves you to the center of the ballroom where other vampires were gathered with their dance partners, Astarion's hand went to you hip and the other to out other hand and he hold you close, the music start and you start to dance, dancing and swirling you around with almost no effort, your ere shocked by this revelation. 
As the dance continued he looked at you “you look” he stops his eyes going to your cleavage, you want to slap his face but you can't at the moment, “I don't think that tonight I can hold back” he rasps out, you gasp at his words, after the dance you all but power walk away from the ballroom, a really bad idea now that you got your vampire hungry for a taste of you and it isn't your blood what he wants to taste, you enter your room, but when you close the door the door doesn't do the clicking sound, instead it's flesh that slams the door, you hear him before you see him, you look to your back and there he is Astarion is looking you up and down trading every detail of your body with his gaze, he gets near you in two long strides, “why are you running, I promise I'll make you feel good” he moans out, she step back but he holds to you, “relax and please give me the permission, this way we are both free to devour one another” you look at him trying to deny that you actually wanted it, you finally give in and accept it, giving him one nod with you head “say it” he whispers millimeters away from you “I need you to say it” he waits so patiently, “I want you” you finally say and with that you feel his lips crashing to you, you kiss him like your life is about to end right there, he holds you firm against you, a moan scapes your lips wile you make out with the vampire that you promised yourself that you wouldn't fall for. 
*he pushes you to the wall, holding your legs around his waist he pushes your dress up and then looks down braking the kiss, he looks at your panties like he hates them, in a fast motion he pushes them aside and the whatever he sees makes him growl, you pussy react to that growl and a jasp scapes your life, he makes quick work on his pants pulling them down letting them fall to the floor, he kicked them off as he pushes himself deep without warning, you hiss at the sting of pain and pleasure your walls stretching to accommodate him, he waits there kissing your civage while you get used to his length, “Astarion, move” your hands go to his hips urging him to move, but he shakes his head “you are still to tight, I'm afraid you will feel pain if I move” he rasps out, you can tell that the simple act of keeping himself restrained is hard for him, you try to urge him again, cupping his well formed ass with your hands, he growls “you're gonna be the death of me” he growls and with that he is thrusting deep in you, you moan as his tip abuses your g-spot, you move your arms to hug him around the neck your fingers through his silver locks as your back arches and you burry his face onto your breasts, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth teasing it with his fangs, as he doesn't stop loving his hops, your hips making that satisfying clap each time he thrusts in, “oh god, Astarion” you scream his  ame as your orgasm runs through you, but he doesn't stop fuking you through your orgasm, your vision turns black for some second, when you come back he was there looking at you, “dead, you fuking killed me” you gasp out, a satisfied him comes to his lips, “well, I told you, you would like it” he said teasingly, you are still panting but something tells you that tonight you won't sleep at all.
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jynrso · 1 month
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laid to rest
For the first time since drinking Tav's blood, Astarion has a nightmare. Eager for some sort of distraction, he goes searching for it. . .but quickly finds out that he isn't the only one in the camp with past trauma. tw for unintentional ableism on astarion's part due to a misunderstanding. it's small and he does . . . "apologize" in the only way he knows how, but i thought to mention it, just in case. if you'd like to know what the situation is before reading, skip to the end note. read it on ao3!
With the taste of Tav’s blood on his tongue, over the next few weeks, Astarion feels more powerful than ever. More alive.
For all its “supposed dangers,” the Underdark had hardly been a challenge –– not for him, anyway. It had been near effortless to carve through hordes of duergar and anyone else who’d gotten in the way of his blades. 
Without the constant hunger gnawing at his gut, he’s able to watch his companions more closely. Though he’s got an in with Tav, it doesn’t hurt to diversify his interests in case their partnership sours. (Not that he has any interest in that happening –– her blood is still the best he’s tasted.)
But despite his best efforts, his attention keeps moving in her direction. When she’d first joined their camp, he hadn’t thought about her more than once a day, yet now it’s nearly impossible not to notice her. 
Most notably, unlike Gale and Wyll, Tav had kept up surprisingly well in the pitch-black darkness for a human, so much so that it had piqued his interest. He’s kept quiet about it, not really caring what she’s keeping secret from the group (besides, don’t they all have secrets?) but makes a note of it all the same. 
But even as his companions had struggled (both physically and morally –– he could care less about the annoying, whiny gnomes), it’s been. . . good. He still balks at the prospect of facing Cazador, but it almost feels like he now has a small chance of beating him rather than a nonexistent one.
Then once they hit the Shadowlands, it’s like a switch flips. 
Astarion scrambles up in bed with a scream lodged in his throat, lungs heaving to suck in air they don’t need. He wipes a cold, clammy hand over his face as his chest stutters, a vise gripping tightly around his heart. He needs –– he needs. . .
He needs air. He needs to get up and get out of this damn tent, where the memories are closing in on him. He needs not to think about his dream about Cazador or Godey or the damned kennel, or any of his victims' faces as they’d passed by him in quick succession, one after another –– 
Astarion scrambles upward, pushing his blankets away without his usual grace, and lunges out of his tent like some sort of animal. 
He doesn’t mind the dark but the Shadowlands at night are another thing entirely. He’s drawn like a moth to a flame when he sees Tav sitting in front of a small fire, her shoulders hunched and back to him. It would be so easy to sneak up behind her and sink his teeth into her neck. . .
His eyes darken and he imagines the hot rush of blood flowing down his throat. His incisors bite into his bottom lip. It’s a want more than a need –– he’d just fed from her yesterday. But. . .
Maybe it’s for the best that Tav turns before he can do anything. Even though he keeps his tread quiet, she tenses when he approaches her, hand moving to the dagger holstered at her side as she twists to face him properly. 
He clicks his tongue at her reaction. All of a sudden, with her eyes on him, he feels raw and all too visible. He’d come out here to escape his nightmare, had approached her on purpose. . .yet now he wants to skitter away like some sort of scared animal. 
Pushing those urges aside, it’s easy to fall back onto the charm and oozing seduction he wears like armor.  “None of that now, darling. Save it for all those shadow monsters, hmm?” 
She relaxes, though only slightly. Even though there’s no immediate danger, her body remains oddly stiff, muscles rippling underneath her skin. Thankfully, however, her hand moves away from her blade and rests against her bent knee, dangling down toward the ground. Predictably, she doesn’t say a word –– though she doesn’t protest his company, either, so he takes that as permission to sit beside her. 
The small fire in front of them does little to warm the chill that seems to have permeated every corner of his body. In need of a distraction, he opens his mouth to fill the silence. “You know, I could have sworn you were on watch earlier. But here you still are.” 
Tav just barely glances his way, shrugging in response. A usual – albeit unsatisfying – answer.  But something feels off beyond that. Her body, more rigid than usual, curls away from him as she stares with glazed eyes into the fire, almost as if in a trance. 
Maybe she’s been woken up by a nightmare, same as him. But, a part of him wonders absently, does he really care? So long as she’s willing to keep giving him blood and remain by his side should a conflict arise. . .what else does he need from her?
They sit in silence for a few more minutes. To some, it may be the comforting sort, but not for him; instead, the air between them feels charged, almost frenzied. There’s a sort of buzzing beneath his skin that threatens to tear through his flesh and emerge into the world. He needs ––  something more than this.  
“It is odd, though, don’t you think?” he says suddenly. “With how often I see you pacing around, it’d seem that you didn’t need sleep! But. . .” he leans in conspiratorially, relishing in the way Tav shifts away from him, a frown pulling at her lips ( finally reacting! ). “Those dark circles under your eyes say otherwise, darling. Really, you look quite horrid. I’ve seen corpses with more life than you!” 
Her mouth opens, teeth flashing and ready to rip into him –– yes! he thinks with a vicious sort of glee, eager for a bit of verbal sparring –– but after a faltering moment, she closes it and simply scowls. Silently. 
“What,” Astarion sneers, upper lip curling back. His words fall like the lashes of a whip. “Nothing to say? Can’t say I’m surprised.” 
Tav’s lips part, eyebrows pulling together in frustration as she inhales –– but says nothing. Instead, an odd, sort of guttural noise escapes her throat; both of them flinch back at the sound of it, Tav looking as surprised (and frustrated) as he feels. 
But when that fades, he’s left feeling just as dissatisfied as he’d been when he’d come out here. The image of Cazador still lingers in the corners of his mind; to his immense irritation, she’s done nothing to distract him from the ghosts of his past.
“I don’t know why I even bothered.” He stubbornly pushes the voice in the back of his mind down that tells him exactly why as he gets up, face twisted in disgust as he prepares to spend the rest of the night in haunted silence alone in his tent. 
Quick as a viper, she reaches out and grabs his arm. He pulls away as if burned, spinning on his heel to face her. His words come out in a hiss. “What now?”   
He watches her hesitate before her hands make a series of complicated gestures in response. Astarion blinks once, frowning. After a beat, she does the same series of signs again, looking increasingly frustrated (and is that a hint of desperation he sees in her eyes?) when he doesn’t understand whatever the hell she’s doing. 
He scowls, a ball of irritation forming in his chest. He’d been a fool to think that anyone would be willing to provide a distraction, let alone care that he currently wants to rip his skin off his bones and –– is Tav fucking drawing with a stick in the mud? 
Dumbfounded, he blinks in disbelief as he watches Tav carefully make a series of lines in the dirt in front of her. When she’s finished, she jabs at her work with the stick insistently, a clear command for him to look at it. 
At first glance, he’s left even more confused than before. It’s only when he takes a few steps toward her and looks it at from Tav’s direction that he realizes it’s a single word inscribed in the dirt at her feet: “Can’t.” 
“Can’t?” he scoffs, brows pulling together as he struggles to parse out her meaning. “What do you mean, can’t?”  
When he glances over at her again and sees the hand that slowly rises to her throat –– he finally understands. 
“You can’t speak right now?” he asks softly, a bit more hesitantly. Revulsion begins to crawl up his throat once more, though not for the same reason as before. 
A slow nod, as if she doesn’t quite understand it either. 
“But –– you can speak sometimes.” 
Another nod. 
Hands propped up against his hips, he studies her for a few more seconds in the waning firelight. Then, he slowly takes a seat next to her. She shifts uneasily but doesn’t move away or slide one of her daggers into his gut, which he takes as a win. 
(It’s not like he can have his only reliable source of food revoke the gift that she’s given to him.)
“Well,” he clears his throat, feeling out of his depth. “That would explain. . .” he gestures toward her. “. . . this. ” 
Tav huffs out a breath, shaking her head. 
And maybe he’s pushing it too far but he can’t help but prod further. It’s likely not the best time for it, not when he can’t understand her signing, but he’s surprised by how much he wants to know the answer.  “ –– Can I ask why?” 
For the next minute or two, she’s silent, considering his question. Instead of looking at him, she focuses her attention off into the distance, beyond the boundaries of their camp. The Shadowlands are quiet, for now, but it’s a temporary reprieve. He almost wishes that something would jump out of the bushes and attack, if only to interrupt the silence between them. 
Astarion’s just beginning to think that he won’t get an answer of any kind when his tadpole squirms unpleasantly in his brain. It takes him a second to realize that it’s Tav’s tadpole on the edges of his mind, asking for entry. 
What the hell, he thinks, opening his mind to the gentle nudge –– and then immediately regrets it. 
All at once, he’s struck by half a dozen memories at the same time, all clambering for his attention simultaneously. The small snippets he sees –– hooded figures walking silently down a hall, a whip striking lashes against someone’s back, someone’s tongue being pulled out with a pair of tongs –– are disjointed and confusing, made all the worse by the sheer terror that undercuts them. 
It takes a few seconds for him to regain his bearings and examine the scenes –– the memories, Tav’s memories –– with any sort of analytical eye. He finds himself –– finds Tav –– in a dark, dimly-lit castle or church. She wears heavy robes with a hood and so do the people around her. The flashes he gets are perhaps visions from her day-to-day life, yet she never utters a single word. Her hands act as her mouth instead; they’re moving almost constantly –– underneath tables, in the dark of night, in hidden nooks –– all away from the watchful eye of a few prominent figures that seem to repeat across all the echoes. 
But just as Astarion is beginning to figure it out, Tav breaks the connection. Both of them reel backward, lungs heaving. Tav’s eyes are wide and uncharacteristically fearful, her lips moving silently. In her lap, her fingers twitch. 
“That was. . .” he trails off, shaking his head. A hand absently moves to rub at his sternum, as if in an attempt to unravel the knot in his chest. 
By now, it’s become clear that everyone in their little traveling party has some sort of trauma. He’d never excluded Tav from that grouping, assuming she has her own fucked-up myriad of problems, though it slowly dawns on him that perhaps their pasts might be a little too similar for comfort. 
It can’t have been as bad as Cazador, his inner voice sneers, but –– he’d felt her fear, all the same. Felt her pain. 
And more than any sympathy he feels for her, he needs her. Not only as a partner, should things go bad, but also to provide him blood in a place where feeding off of their enemies might be more trouble than it’s worth. 
With that in mind, he shifts in his seat, then says, “I think I understand. Why you can’t speak right now.” And he does –– at least, sort of. After all, he’d come out here looking for company in the wake of a nightmare; if he were a betting man, he’d guess that she had one, too –– one that transported her back to that place where speaking led to physical punishment. 
His next words are tacked on as an afterthought but are no less meaningful: “ –– But I didn’t, before.” 
It’s not an apology –– even if he’d wanted to apologize to her for his callousness, the words are stuck in his throat. But it’s as close to one as he’s gotten in years and that means . . . something. 
(He tells himself it’s not a big deal, that he’s doing it for survival, and then doesn’t think about it again until later.)
In response, Tav just shakes her head slightly. When she meets his eyes, the corner of her mouth quirks upward. Nothing needs to be said out loud for him to understand exactly what she’s saying: It’s fine.
“You impossible, wretch of a woman,” he mutters, throwing up his hands. He’s suddenly irritated with how quickly she’s seemingly forgiven him. “You’re supposed to ––  I don’t know! ” His eyes dart down to her belt, the shine of her blade glinting in the firelight. 
He’d fucked up and yelled at her –– now it’s her turn to retaliate. But she’s not doing that. She’s not doing bloody anything, just sitting there, looking at him like all’s been said and done –– but it hasn’t. He’s not––he’s not used to. . .
Astarion sags, his mind weighed down by a wave of exhaustion. This conundrum, combined with his earlier disorientation from the nightmare, leaves him unable to properly voice his thoughts without it being incomprehensible. 
At his side, Tav shifts, moving slightly closer to him. There’s still a good few inches between them but the solidness of her presence is enough to ground him. She doesn’t say anything –– either with her voice or her hands –– but the silence isn’t as tense as it had been when he’d first emerged from his tent. 
She doesn’t shout at him. She doesn’t pull out her blade and cut him to ribbons for the slight. Instead. . .they just sit. Together. 
Astarion doesn’t know what she’s thinking –– doesn’t have the energy to try and guess her intentions. Had she somehow perceived what he’d been trying to say? Could she feel the war inside his mind, the constant tugging of abuse that threatens to tear him to pieces? Nobody knows about Cazador; he hasn’t said a word. But for the first time in a long time, he finally feels like maybe, just maybe, someone might understand. 
He’s not at peace, his brain still reeling and muscles jumping at every sound. . .but perhaps there’s more to Tav than the blood she can give him. And by the way her breathing begins to return to normal, as her muscles relax and her eyes lose some of that distant shine over time, it might just be that she benefits from his presence, too. 
That’s a troubling thought. 
“Wizard.” 
“I have a name, you know,” Gale replies dryly, looking up from the dusty old tome he’d been reading. “What is it? Don’t tell me you need money again.”  
From his pocket, Astarion produces a glittering ring with a flourish. Though he’s had little practical training, he can feel the magic of it thrumming in the air between them. At the sight of it, Gale’s eyes widen eagerly. 
“I found this a few days ago, carelessly thrown away,” he begins, falling into the cadence of his usual dramatics. “And I thought to myself, ‘well, this seems like just the type of thing that Gale would eat right up!’” 
The wizard sighs. “I’ve told you all a dozen times that I don’t actually eat the artifact ,” he replies wearily. “It’s a rather complicated process that doesn’t involve. . .” 
Astarion tunes him out for a few seconds. 
“. . .And besides, now that Mystra’s stabilized the orb, I no longer have a need for such things.” He pauses, then remembers his manners, and adds, “Though I suppose it was thoughtful of you to think of me. Thank you, Astarion.” 
He didn’t do it for thanks. Scowling, he tosses the magical ring in Gale’s direction anyway, forcing the other man to catch it lest it hit him in the eye. Once it’s in Gale’s possession, Astarion claps his hands together brightly. “Excellent! A ring for a favor. I’ll be cashing that in now.” 
“You could have just asked––” 
“Now, I’m sure you learned lots of things in wizard school––” he ignores the exclamation of protest at his wording and continues on, “but what I particularly need your, ah, expertise in is languages. Specifically those spoken with hands.” 
Intrigued at the possibility of sharing his knowledge with someone who actually wants to hear it, Gale’s eyes light up as he hums in thought. “Well, there are quite a few. Common sign language, which, as the name suggests, is the most common. There’s quite a bit of overlap with that and thieves’ cant, which, admittedly, I know little about. Then the drow have their own variation that looks quite like spellcasting. I actually studied with someone who spoke it and stars, that was difficult to parse––” 
He has to stop this before Gale goes completely off the rails. Astarion cuts in smoothly, “The first one. Common.” 
“I only know the basics,” Gale emphasizes (to which Astarion shrugs because it’s better than nothing). He thinks Gale’s going to continue but the other man pauses, brows narrowing in suspicion. “. . .What’s this about?” 
Astarion meets his gaze, eyes flashing dangerously. He could turn to threats but that would be a waste of a perfectly good Gale (and the only person in camp who might be able to help him) if he had to follow through on them. “No questions and you can have the next magical item I find.” 
“Is this about Ta––” 
“No questions,” he snaps, losing his temper and cutting the other man off before he can finish that sentence. Now he turns to threats. “The next words out of your mouth better be ‘ oh, yes, Astarion, I can’t wait to help you with this’ or I’ll start cutting off your fingers one by one . ” 
Gale raises an unimpressed brow. “Give me the next two artifacts you find.” 
“. . .Fine, you absolute cretin. But we start now. ” 
Gale claps his hands, rubbing them together in excitement at the prospect of having a willing student. With one arm, he holds open the flap of his tent, motioning for Astarion to go first. “After you.” 
Slowly beginning to regret this decision, Astarion lets out a long-suffering sigh and acquiesces.
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lady-of-imladris · 7 months
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Trope rating game
rules: How much do these tropes affect your decision to click on a fic? -10 -> very dissuaded  0 -> don’t care either way  +10 -> very enticed  nope -> if it’s a hard no and you’d never click on a fic with that tag or you even have the tag blocked or you’d insta click out of the fic if it wasn’t tagged. Bonus points for explaining the rating and whether it’s conditional.
Thank you so much for tagging me @thesolarangel <3 I'm sorry it took me so long! Answers under the cut!
Age gap: +10 I'm a dilf lover. I'm a fantasy reader. YES age gap!
Codependency: -5 Meh. Not my thing
Obsession/Possessiveness, jealousy: +5 Yes Possessiveness (IN FICTION), no to obsession and jealousy (ESPECIALLY jealousy)
Opposites (grumpy/sunshine etc): 0 I don't really care much for this trope, I think it's a bit overdone
Enemies to lovers, Enemies with benefits: +10 YES. THE SPICY SPICE OF THE FORBIDDEN!!! THE DAGGER TO THE THROAT. This is what I always go for when I feel bad. Semester is over and I am so burnt out I don't have the energy to do anything? Enemies to lovers.
Friends with benefits: 0 I don't care either way
Sex to feelings: +5 There's something satisfying when it was just supposed to be a quickie because they were both drunk but then the author hits you with the italicized oh and it just happens.
Fake dating/relationship: +6 y e s. Especially if it is a very elaborate scheme
Friends to lovers: -4 Idk why, it's just a no for me.
Found Family: +3 I think it's a bit overdone? But it's always a good one (looking at you Six of Crows)
Hurt/Comfort: +7 GIVE ME ALL THE HURT AND THEN ALL THE COMFORT YES
Love Triangle: -2 SO OVERDONE!!! 2014 YA novels called, they want their tropes back (no hate to anyone who likes this!!!)
Poly, open relationships: 0 I don't think I have read anything with polyamoury or open relationships yet? RECS???
Mistaken/hidden identity: +4 ESPECIALLY if they are secretly enemies (and one of them doesn't know it and they fall for each other asjkfdakljghal)
Monsterfucking: +8 vampires? YES. Daddy Cullen, Astarion. YES
Pregnancy: -8 okay if it just is part of the story (I'm currently writing a fic where the couple canonically has a kid, so I HAD to include the pregnancy) and if it's not overly detailed then I am 100% fine with it, but if it's friends with benefits and then OH NO someone is pregnant, now we have a huge fight but then they confess their feelings and... UGH. not my thing
Second Chance: -10 NOPE. If one of you besties EVER sees me even THINKING about giving someone a second chance, SPRAY ME WITH WATER LIKE A NAUGHTY CAT!!!!! Not even in fiction
Slowburn: +7 When executed nicely, this is T H E B E S T. But the wait needs to pay off if you catch my drift
Soulmates: 0 I REALLY don't care, but that might just be because I don't believe in love
No pressure tagging @marimosalad @pursuitseternal @fictionalmenjusthitdifferent @starlady66 @queenmeriadoc <3 and open tags! But if you do it you must tag me so I see it!!!
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