Written for the @loveinfaerunexchange. Astarion gets the hug and intimacy he deserves after defeating Cazador… (I wish we'd had the option to hold him when he was crying after killing Cazador so I wrote it myself.) AO3
Astarion sinks to his knees, a pathetic sob escaping his lips as the dagger clatters to the floor, you feel your heart breaking before dropping beside him and enveloping him in your arms, his body sagging in your embrace. He clings to you, sobbing into your shoulder as you rub your hands comfortingly up and down his back and arms. It takes a few moments for him to pull himself together enough to deal with his siblings and the spawn in the cells, but he doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time, your touch his lifeline, his rock. When you make your way back to the Elfsong, instead of heading for your suites with the rest of your party, you guide him to the baths to wash the dirt and blood and ritual off of him. He doesn’t fight you as you divest him of his pants and underwear, having pushed himself far beyond his own limits, but you want to make sure he knows that he isn’t alone and that you aren’t going anywhere. You hold out your hand, Astarion taking it to steady himself and letting you guide him to the tub, your grip sure and secure as he steps into the water, and sits down slowly, red eyes fluttering closed as you ease into the tub behind him, drawing a small, contented sigh from his lips.
“I’m so proud of you.” You whisper as you run your hands through his white hair, fingertips massaging his scalp.
Astarion leans back against you, his head on your shoulder fingers finding yours beneath the water and lacing them together as you press a kiss to his cheek. Neither of you speak but you don’t need to. Your vampyr is quiet, almost contemplative, still trying to wrap his head around everything that happened and process that Cazador is dead—no more looking over his shoulder; he’s finally free and that’s going to take some getting used to. Luckily, you plan to be by his side every step of the way as he figures out what to do with his newfound freedom. He burrows deeper into your embrace, lifting your linked hands out of the water and staring at them, his grip tightening like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. You nudge him with your shoulder and give his hand a gentle squeeze as he gazes at the darkness that has settled outside the small window above the tub.
“I should probably start getting used to the shadows again. Who knows how long I have left in the sun?”
“You did the right thing, stopping the Black Mass.”
“I know.” He huffs. “That doesn’t mean it stings any less. Maybe never seeing the sun again is just the price of freedom.”
You can feel your heart breaking at the despondent tone of his voice; getting tadpoled, while not ideal, had given him so much—autonomy over himself, the ability to stand in the sun, friends, and love, and he wasn’t ready for all that to disappear. If you have your way, it won’t—you’ll find a way for him to bask in the sun when this is all over and The Absolute is defeated; between Sorcerous Sundries and Gale, you have a wealth of knowledge at your fingertips whenever you need it. You fumble for the soap with the hand he doesn’t have clutched to his heart, and run it gently down his torso and his arms building up a sudsy lather. When you finish you ease him back into the water to help him rinse off before the two of you clamber out of the tub together. You wrap him in a fluffy towel, using the fabric to pull him closer so you can kiss the tip of his nose.
“I’ll be with you either way. I hope you know that.”
“I think I do.” Astarion looks you directly in the eyes as he catches your hands in his, tone shifting to teasing as you gently dry the water droplets clinging to his skin. “Assuming we survive, of course. Because a horrible death is always just around the corner with you.” You laugh and he shoots you a small smile, fingers curling around yours as he leads you over to the pile of your clothes, a flicker of vulnerability running across his beautiful face. “There’s…something I’d like to show you, if that’s all right? Something out in the city.”
“Of course.” You nod as you grab your shirt off the pile and pull it over your head, the two of you donning your clothes in companionable silence.
“It isn’t far.”
Astarion grips your hand as soon as you’re both dressed and leads you from the baths, away from the Elfsong and he doesn’t let go as you wind through the darkened streets of Baldur’s Gate to a desolate and out of the way cemetery. The graveyard is appropriately silent—there isn’t a proverbial soul around as he stops in front of a lone headstone covered in ivy that clearly hasn’t been maintained, staring at it for a moment, before he releases your hand and carefully moves the vines. He wipes his hands on his pants and takes a step back so you can read the simple epitaph carved in the stone:
Astarion Ancunín
229 NR—268 NR
And suddenly you realize the importance of this moment, glad he’s finally lowered his walls and is letting you all the way in, trusting you with this piece of himself. His trust isn’t misplaced; you two have been through so much together, and the love you feel for him will never go away—you’ll be by his side as long as he’ll have you and you plan to show him he can rely on you every single day.
“Nearly two hundred years and I never came back. Not since the night I woke up down there. I had to punch a hole in the coffin and claw my way through six feet of dirt. Then when I finally broke the surface, retching up dirt and congealed blood, Cazador was waiting. From that day on I was his. Until today.”
You step closer and gently cup his chin in your hand, his piercing red eyes gazing into yours. “You were never his. Whatever he had, he took by force.”
“Maybe, but he did take it. There’s almost nothing left of the person I was. Just a name on a rock. For nearly two centuries I stalked the streets like a ghost while the person I was lay here, dead and buried. Now I need to figure out who I am. What I want.” He shoots you a small, tentative smile and it makes your heart soar, but you want to hear him say it—to use his newfound autonomy and voice what he wants, having never had anyone to hear it before or have it matter.
“And what do you want?”
“You…I want you. You were by my side through all of this. Through bloodlust and pain and misery. You were patient. You cared. You trusted me when that was an objectively stupid thing to do. I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don’t want to lose that.”
“You won’t. Whatever comes next, I’ve got you.”
Astarion heaves a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Well, I should probably fix this.”
You watch him as he pulls out a dagger and kneels in front of the tombstone, digging the tip into the worn rock and carving out a number—a new date you realize with a burst of affection. He sits back on his heels, his eyes flicking from the headstone to you and you find yourself gazing at the edited writing; a promise of a new life—a new beginning.
Astarion Ancunín
229 NR—268 NR
*468 NR—
You hold back for a moment, giving him time as you cast your eyes around and lean over to pick a nearby white flower from the ground, laying it beneath the epitaph on the soil of what was once his grave. Astarion cocks an eyebrow at you, a small smile on his face, as you kneel beside him.
“Cute. I’ve been dead in the ground for long enough, It’s time to try living again.” He turns towards you and takes both of your hands in his, a wistful smile on his face. “With everything that life has to offer.”
“Meaning…?”
“If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded.” He gives you that lopsided smirk you’ve come to expect when he flirts with you as he rubs his thumbs across the back of your hands.
You give his hands a squeeze. “Sounds good to me.”
He drops your hands and rubs his palms nervously on his pants, a shaky breath rattling past his lips. “You know, I didn’t care for you when we first met. But I do now. Being with you is about more than lust or manipulating you into a tactical alliance. I love you. I love this. And I want it all.”
You smile at each other, Astarion reaching out and cupping your face, brushing your cheek with his thumb. He leans forward and presses his mouth against yours in a sweet kiss. He pulls back and cocks his head to one side bracing his hands against your shoulders and giving you a gentle shove. You fall back into the grass, his gaze sweeping over you and you can't miss the hitch of his breath as he takes you in, the look on his face like he wants to devour you and you bite your lip. A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips as he crawls towards you, his leg hooking yours to drape it over his hip and the stretch of your muscles at the action makes you gasp. He nestles himself between your thighs and rocks his hips, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, his mouth opening against yours, tongues colliding as his hands tangle in your hair. He sighs contentedly as you wrap your arms around him, pressing every inch of your body to his.
And you know that this is how you want to spend eternity…
Tagging the usual suspects: @hazelestelle @bardofheartdive @foofyschmoofer @illusivesoul @forlornmelody @vorchagirl @sorchacahill @badwolf626 @thefrostyshepard @leysendris @commander-krios @heroofshield @mcgeeki @spacevixen2024 and any one else who wants to play!
I had too much fun with this and I'm not sure any of my other OCs can top Alyss and Kaidan XD!
Tagged by @commander-krios thank you darlin! Sorry this took me so long to answer!
Some Rugan and Mercedes Tav enjoying each other ;).
She reached for the straps of her dress and started to pull them down, but he held up a hand and shook his head; he wanted to be the one to undress her and if he was being honest with himself, he wanted the dress not just gone, but destroyed–he would be delighted for her to have to walk his floors naked. A flash of silver glinted in the firelight catching her eye as Rugan pulled a dagger from his boot, approaching her while he toyed with the knife, deft hands throwing the blade in the air and catching it as it came back down. She tensed, breath hitching and a delighted shiver running down her spine at the cool bite of metal against her skin. The blade sliced through the straps of her dress easily, first one side and then the other, Rugan flashing her a devilish grin as the fabric fluttered to the ground, pooling around her ankles and leaving her bare before him. By the Black Hand, her tits were something a more articulate man than himself would write a godsdamned sonnet about. He tossed the knife onto the table as he pulled her body flush against his, fingertips digging into her hips as he hoisted her up into the air, setting her bare ass on the wood.
I will tag it forward to @pikapeppa @wickedwitchofthewilds @my-favourite-zhent @forlornmelody @foofyschmoofer @hawkeykirsah @bardofheartdive @charlatron @starsandskies @randomlygeneratedstring @ooachilliaoo @illusivesoul @vorchagirl @heroofshield @kittynomsdeplume @hazelestelle @spacebunshep @mcgeeki @spacevixen2024 @pixiedurango @lonyn @blackwallmancer @poweredbycoffeeandwine @silurisanguine and anyone else who wants to play. But as always no obligations!
Okay we had reveals for the @aromanceforthedragonages exchange so this is going to be a two part post.
First of all, I'd like to thank @xkatchy for choosing The Trial of the Ancients in 'Mystery Elvhen Date' and giving Lavellan an impossible choice, that I could never make. It's so cute and fun and I love it so much! XD
And second I'd like to thank @raflesia65 for my sexy sexy Victoria and Cullen pic 'Love me as only you know how'! I love these two being a bit naughty and I can't stop staring at it!
And the second part is what I wrote! I got to explore Felassan a little bit when I wrote The Ties That Bind for @el-las-in.
Felassan has recovered from his ordeal quite nicely and he and Inquisitor Lavellan take things to the next level <3
And I also wrote @commander-krios a fun little fic: Be Mean for her Ariadne Mercar and Illario Dellamorte...because I'm very sure Illario is a little freak in the bedroom ;) and also as a thank you for organizing the exchange and all the treats she did!
Illario enjoys a little pain in his pleasure and Ariadne is happy to indulge him sometimes...
@sidhelives and @hazelestelle tagged me to pick a song for every letter in my tumblr URL. This gets harder every time I do it XD
A - All Over the Road by Easton Corbin
L - Let That be Enough by Switchfoot
Y - Your Song by Rita Ora
S - Sing for Me by Tamaryn Payne
S - Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy) by Big and Rich
A - All Eyes on Me by Dirty Candy
L - Low Day by Capra
E - Evermore by Dan Stevens
N - Nobody's Son by Sabrina Carpenter
K - Kokomo by The Beach Boys
O - Off With His Shirt by Kylie Minogue
@amarmeme @hawkeykirsah @illusivesoul @darth-salem-emperor-of-earth @vorchagirl @thefrostyshepard @heroofshield @kittynomsdeplume @wickedwitchoftheweed @commander-krios @spacebunshep @masweird @my-favourite-zhent @silurisanguine @catherea @starsandskies and anyone else who sees this and wants to play! But as always, no obligations! <3
Sooo many good options from the wip folder!! It was very hard to choose. But I’m going to pick “Knives” from your DA wips please ☺️
Thank you!
WIP Folder Meme
Ehehehe. I haven't worked out the full particulars on this yet but the idea of learning where an assassin keeps all their hidden knives on their person is so intimate and requires so much trust. And I doubt crows trust easily, especially Lucanis after he was betrayed and locked in the Ossuary for a year so I wanted to explore that aspect and how he trusts Rook with every part of himself and it's her turn to reciprocate. And then he sticks his foot in his mouth XD.
Mierda, there was something so intimate about letting him watch her undress, and if she hadn't trusted him implicitly, she wouldn't have ever entertained the idea. Though if the heat in his eyes was any indication, learning where she stored each and every knife on her person was the last thing on his mind. Her breath hitched as he stepped closer, eyes lingering on her favorite dagger; the one she had strapped to her thigh at all times. Lucanis reached out, fingertips occasionally grazing her skin as he trailed them over the hilt of the knife, something sparking in his memory at the sight of it.
“This is…” Brown eyes met blue with a questioning look. “The knife I gifted to Viago years ago, as a token of my affection for him.”
Her face fell and Lucanis instantly regretted the words. The knife had arrived on their doorstep eight years ago, with a note that had read “With fondest regards, Lucanis Dellamorte of House Dellamorte”, but with poison being his preferred weapon and her loving to dual-wield daggers, Viago had assumed it was a gift for her and immediately given the knife to his younger sister. If she was being honest with herself, he'd mentioned in passing to Emmrich that he'd had a crush on Viago but that it had been years ago and Viago had met it with indifference–probably because at that point he was so smitten with Teia it bordered on obsession–so she'd put the comment out of her mind.
