#unspecified gender reader

[marvellousimagines]

Requested by anonymous

You were pretending to sleep when you heard a shuffling of noise much closer than usual to you. You debated if it was something worth your attention - Astarion being an elf who only needed to trance for a couple hours meant he was usually up around this time. But when you felt a presence hovering over you, your eyes flew open.

Astarion was crouched over you, focused on your neck, a pair of sharp fangs bared. You shivered as Astarion quickly backpedaled.

“I only needed, well, blood,” Astarion explained quietly, trying to avoid waking the camp.

You sat up, a hand flying up to cover your mouth to cover the laugh you failed to stifle.

Astarion tensed, confused and guarded. “Is there something humorous?” he hissed.

“Just that you won’t find any palatable blood here,” you told him, giving a wide smirk to bare your own fangs, running your tongue over one of them for good measure. Your right hand went up to the high collar of your camp shirt, pulling it down to reveal a couple of old puncture scars.

Astarion looked taken aback, eyes glancing over you as if really seeing you for the first time. “You’re… also a vampire spawn?” he asked. You gave a nod, suddenly feeling self-conscious again as you smoothed the collar of your shirt back up over your scars. “How did I miss that?”

“Probably the same way I missed it with you. At least until we found one of your kills and you started acting super cagey,” you replied. “Too caught up in everything else to notice the little details.”

Astarion’s brow furrowed. “How’ve you been getting blood? I haven’t noticed you sneak off to hunt like I do,” he commented.

You curled in on yourself a bit and looked at the ground, unable to take Astarion’s studying gaze any longer. “I manage,” you replied. There was no response, and you looked up to see Astarion patiently waiting for more detail with a raised eyebrow. “I’ll… clean my weapons after battle. Get the blood from those. When we have fresh meat for dinner, I’ll make sure mine is under-cooked, can usually get some blood from that.”

“Darling, aren’t you hungry? That can’t be enough for you, not to mention hardly appetizing,” Astarion asked, his face scrunching up at the thought of having to drink the blood off a sword.

“I’m used to it,” you mutter, a finger trailing in the dirt beside your bedroll. You glance up at Astarion, seeing an unfamiliar expression on his face. Something akin to pity? Sympathy? But as soon as he caught your eyes, it was gone, replaced by a flirty smile.

“Well, since neither of us will be able to get our fill from the other,” Astarion started as he began standing up, “seems like a hunt is in order. And now that we don’t have to hide our natures from each other, hunting’s a bit easier done in a pack. Even if it’s a pack of two.” He offered a hand down to you.

You gave Astarion a soft smile as you took his hand to pull yourself up. “Thank you,” you said, squeezing his hand briefly before dropping it to grab your weapons.

“Hmm, what do you think we’ll find?” Astarion asked as the two of you slinked out of camp. “A boar? Bandit? Kobold?”

“Nothing if you keep chattering like that,” you teased.

[marvellousimagines]

One moment, you were just having another normal day in Baldur’s Gate. The next, you were on some Illithid ship careening through the planes, teaming up with a Githyanki and a Cleric, and surviving the ship’s crash on a beach.

And now a well-dressed elf was holding a knife to your throat after tricking you into turning your back on him.

Something about the way the elf held himself, the sound of his voice, seemed familiar, which you supposed lulled you into a false sense of security around him, giving him the opening to get close with the knife. Of course, being an elf yourself of about 300 years in age, you had a lot of memory to sort through and couldn’t quite pin down what was so familiar about him.

With a timely intervention by the tadpoles that had been forcibly inserted into your brains, the elf backed off, realizing you weren’t actually on the mindflayers’ side.

“My name’s Astarion,” he introduced himself with a showy bow.

Astarion. You knew that name. His voice, his face, his mannerisms. THAT’S why it all seemed familiar.

“Astarion Ancunín?” you asked in disbelief.

Distrust and fear flashed in Astarion’s eyes. “How- how do you know that?” he asked, raising his dagger once again to level at you.

“I’m Y/N. I worked at a tavern you used to frequent, back in Baldur’s Gate,” you explained quickly, putting your hands up in a placating gesture. “It’s been 200 years. I heard you’d died. How… how are you here?”

Astarion’s expression smoothed into a carefully guarded look. “Clearly the rumors of my death were SLIGHTLY exaggerated,” he replied with a small flourish of his hand and a practiced smirk on his face. You couldn’t help but get the sense he was deflecting, especially when he continued without offering any further explanation. “Where was it you worked again?”

“The Gilded Crane,” you replied, hoping your disappointment that he didn’t recognize you didn’t show on your face. It made sense he wouldn’t. You barely recognized him, and you spent many shifts staring at the pretty elf magistrate and pining from afar, knowing he was way out of your league. Though, to be fair, his hair was now much lighter and his eyes seemed darker than they used to be, and you were pretty sure you haven’t changed quite as much. “Why don’t we travel together? Our odds will be better in a group,” you suggested, perhaps foolishly in hopes of regaining that lost connection from 200 years ago.

“You know, I was ready to go this alone, but maybe sticking with the herd isn’t such a bad idea,” Astarion replied, his smirk widening into a charming smile as he looked at you. “I accept.” 

You silently cursed your heart for fluttering like you were a lovesick child again, almost like no time has passed since you foolishly developed a crush on one of the higher-class patrons of the tavern.

“Even though you don’t remember me, it is nice to see you again, Astarion,” you told him with a gentle smile.

Astarion looked at you as though you were a puzzle to solve, his head tilted back and eyes taking in every detail of your face. You felt your cheeks grow hotter under his gaze, and a smirk again tugged at his lips as he seemed to see right through you. “I believe I will enjoy traveling with you. I wonder why I never got to know you before. We’ll certainly have to make up for some lost time,” he said, clearly laying the charm on thick but you were falling for every word.

You had to look away from Astarion to hide the blush that now likely covered your entire face, and you heard a quiet snicker from his direction.

[ficmesideways]

Request for Anonymous Gif Source: Arthur

Imagine being Arthur's s/o and putting his hair in braided pigtails while he's asleep

------- Imagine -------

His head had given a small shake as he finally closed his eyes and drifted to sleep. It had been a long mission for him ad you knew how tired he was. So you just sat next to him and ran your fingers through his hair as he slept. It was a little while later when he started snoring softly that an idea popped into your head. You smiled and began to gently braid Arthur’s long hair as you watched him gently sleep.

[bladesandstars]

Happy birthday, Ignis!

You heard Ignis’ keys outside and went to unlock the door for him.  Greeting him on the threshold, you stood up on tiptoe to brush his lips, and he pressed them back into yours appreciatively.  He was late, but not excessively so.

“I’m all ready, come over here.” You sat on the couch and settled him on the floor between your legs.  He sat eagerly and leaned back expectantly, already unbuttoning his shirt.

You threaded your fingers through long strands of hair and pressed firmly into his scalp, pushing your fingertips in circles.  He let out a somewhat scandalous moan and dropped his head back into your lap. You scratched lightly, and another lovely sound of pleasure escaped from those gorgeously sculpted lips.

Cupping your hand over the back of his neck, you leaned him forward and squeezed gently.  He felt some of the tension he’d stored there slip away, and he bent further forward to pull his arms out of his sleeves and give you his shirt.  You smoothed it over the arm of the couch, and he pulled up on his cotton t-shirt behind his neck, shucking it off.

Your arms embraced him then, skimming over his skin around to his chest as you buried your face in his neck, breathing in the familiar warm scent of him. You eased the visor from his face, and gently rubbed his temples in circles.  When he dropped his head over to your shoulder, you couldn’t help but place a soft kiss to his forehead.

As your fingers traveled down to where his neck and shoulders joined, you dug in, feeling your way to the knots.  You found one and pushed on it, and he hissed, but held steady.  You grabbed some of the sore muscle and kneaded it firmly, and Ignis rolled his head between his shoulders. “I love you.”

You moved down his back and over his shoulder blades, alternating smoothing the pads of your fingers over his skin, digging in with the heels of your hands, and pressing in with your thumbs.  He savored it all, moving under you like a cat to guide you toward a particular spot.  You could spend hours like this, feeling his skin under your palms, finding the stressed twists in his muscles and setting them right….

You knew at some point Ignis had leaned his head on you, but it was quite some time before his breath evened out and he looked like he’d fallen asleep.  You stroked his hair gently again.  "Hey, time to wake up - you haven’t had dinner yet.“

He stirred blissfully.  “Not sleeping, just relaxed.”  He nuzzled you before saying, a bit worriedly, "Dinner?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t cook it. I ordered your favorite. And yes, I’m keeping it warm in the oven. I’ll go make you a plate.”

He settled up onto the couch with a happy groan. “Have I mentioned that I love you?”

“You may have, once or twice.”

As you stood up, he roused enough for a well-placed grope to your backside that slid up to a grab at your hip.  

“Do I get dessert, as well?” he growled playfully.

Your laugh floated toward him.  "Plenty of time for that. Happy birthday, my love.“