#Muse: Astarion

[diverse-hearts]

@alurlssrinbled asked for a Starter

"No! I do not wish to 'open up' like those other fools! All we share in common are these tadpoles eating away at our brains yet everyone wants to act all chummy all of a darn sudden!". Why was he getting this worked up? Maybe because the closer they got to Baldur's Gate, the more his skin began to crawl, and he still couldn't understand as to why none of these bastards had turned him over to the vampire hunter earlier - what was in it for them?

"Just leave me alone".

[trickstersintime]

[Only One Bed starters]

"Good," Astarion huffed, his complaints an exaggeration to distract him from how beautiful the drow was, as well as the fact that the last time he had shared a proper bed with anyone they hadn't survived the night, whisked off to suit Cazador's needs. It didn't help that beds felt too soft now after so many years sleeping in the Kennel.

"You'd better not snore either else I'm moving to the floor and taking the blanket with me."

There, that would prevent awkward assumptions. Right?

@divinityrisen

[xthedevilyouknowx]

All Blood Runs Red || Closed Starter

Centuries had passed for Astarion since his days as a merc in Balders Gate. The world changed, and so did he, trying to keep up with the ins and outs of society. Knowledge was power after all, and he needed all the power he could get if it meant keeping himself safe. As the world progressed, magic died out. Not the source or course, or the weave. He was still able to use his power as he was sure many could, but if it was used, it was kept secret. He'd even seen times pass where use of magic was punishable by death.

Things these days weren't so dire, but he still often found himself having to shroud himself in secrecy.

The vampire had a love and hate relationship with large cities. Cities brought excitement, and more importantly, work. Big cities like New York, the one he found himself in now, had large criminal underbellies, and it made things that much more convenient for him, but it also brought hunger.

He wouldn't take anyone down unless they deserved it beyond a shadow of a doubt, and often times as he followed his leads, he'd go days between feedings. Rats were a common supplement in-between, but today.... today he snapped.

He'd been following the same man for days. A suspected murderer. The cops, however, let him walk. What was one less useless mortal? Even if he wasn't a murderer, he surrounded himself with the type. It was only a matter of time. Right? At least, that was what Astarion told himself when he sank his fangs into the other's neck in the back of an alleyway. He drank deeply, a quiet groan leaving him as his hunger was sated, for the moment. He was so enraptured by his meal, he hadn't heard the footsteps approaching over the noise of the city.

@penniesfortheferryman

[coreofgold]

@rcvcrics asked: that thing you just stepped on? yeah, that was my foot. - astarion & jaskier from this meme

"Whoops. Didn't mean to step on your stylish shoes." Dandelion normally can dance, but everyone decided it'd be cool to dance very close and have him move not where he wants to

[lindenhe]

the outcome

it is up to you to decide whose portrait was destroyed

[alibonbonn]

A @corviiids tweet that is very important to me 🙏 I'm always thinking about spawn Astarion how he loves the sun

[coreofgold]

"Not painting. Could never sit still for that." Kili admits. "Now, making things through blacksmithing? That is an art form I can get behind." It's in his dwarven nature really, to be drawn to a forge.

"It is one of my many talents." No one ever could ever accuse Astarion of being humble. "Any interests in the arts?"

[fangswbenefits]

Astarion's writer 🩷

[tiafrye]

For Bloodweave reasons I'm posting them together.

The forbidden fruit of referencing from VAs has consumed me.

[trickstersintime]

spotify wrapped has arrived. send me a number from 1-100 for a starter based on that song, or a lyric from it, or send a 🎁 for me to shuffle.

(7 - Hasta La Vista (ROMZN Remix) by Masha Ray & ROMZN)

"Trust me, darling, I know you want to burn all of Wyrm's Rock in a fiery rampage, but right now that is the fastest way to finding ourselves on our esteemed leader's next slaughter list."

Astarion pushed another two very large beers in front of his companion and slid more coins across to Alan the barkeep to ensure there was more where that came from. This was all in the name of survival after all.

"I'm as appalled as you are that they've shacked up with Gortash of all people. Wait until I've completed the ritual and you'll have a full-powered Vampire Ascendant on your side. Not even a Bhaalspawn will be able to get in the way of your sweet revenge."

@compassofsouls

[trickstersintime]

Astarion resisted the urge to roll his eyes at how heroic this woman was, at least until they knew one another better and he was less likely to be abandoned or murdered. His steps were silent as he followed, at least to a human, which he suspected she was not. Her scent was different. 

Gore was nothing new to him, but he feigned a bit more of a grimace than he normally would at the debrained corpse. His fear was real enough. The devourers were one thing, but an energised mindflayer was out of his league.

"Wonderful," he murmured, readying his longbow. Packs in this world were magic this way. One minute you looked to be carrying nothing, the next you were surrounded by barrels. And that wasn't even with a Bag of Holding.

"Let's hope it's severely injured or that we can sneak past it."

The scent of blood gnawed at his vampiric hunger. I wonder, with these new abilities of mine, could I even feed from a human? Not that he would try it in front of her of course.

Without a second thought Sif began to move, speaking as she did so.

“I shall lead,” she decided. She needed to find her men, if any still drew breath. She hoped so, but the battle onboard the Nautiloid had been chaotic. Hellspawn and illithid forces around every corner, though the fight at the helm proved fiercest, and Sif took pride in her part.

When she returned to Asgard, there’d be a feast no doubt. A celebration of her people’s swift victory over the illithid menace and how they’d saved Faerün from a terrible fate.

Until that moment though, Sif had to keep focused. She led the way back down from the cliffside path towards the body of the wrecked vessel. She wondered if there was a road or trail on the other side. Still, she hesitated. If they survived the crash, there was no telling what else might have lived.

She paused as she peered down through the opening into the belly of the wreckage. Fires of orange and purple blazed, and the black smoke swam up into the sky, blotting out the sun.

“Be ready,” she warned her companion, bringing up her shield.

Down into the belly of the beast again, rubble was strewn about, and snapped sinew hung from the ceiling – but none of that drew Sif’s eye. Her gaze was fixed on the body before them, a soldier clad in golden armour lying motionless on the floor.

Approaching the body, Sif moved around it and froze. There was an ugly, bloody hole in the man’s forehead. His eyes were rolled back into his skull, jaw slacked.

“On your guard,” she ordered, scanning the ruined area. “A mind flayer lives, and it has recently fed.”

[spikesbicth]

Got Love Sick All Over My Bed

Astarion x F!Reader!Tav

Summary: Astarion discovers Tav having a private moment in her tent.

approx 1.5k words

cross posted on ao3

CW: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, masturbation, maybe a tiny bit voyeurism but only if you squint. biting. vampires.

A/N: I am just in the inspiration train so I banged out (lol) this quick one shot. just feeling so creative! once again barely proofread so excuse any glaring issues. Feedback always appreciated :) enjoy!

The smell of smoke lingers on your hair and the clothes lying in a pile at the foot of your bedroll. This was a usual occurrence, as nearly every evening was spent at the fire with your companions, discussing the day and what was to come. Conversations often went in circles, regardless of what had happened that day you often felt you were no closer to safety, always in danger. During these nights, you often found your mind and your eyes wandering to Astarion, whose pale skin and sliver hair was awash with a golden glow from the firelight. He was always entrancingly beautiful, but in this light he was truly ethereal, otherworldly. You were awash with love for him, and yet at the same time completely unsure if he felt the same way or would stick around long enough for you to find out.

These memories and feelings swirl in your mind as you try to relax on the uneven ground. It was difficult to remove your doubtful thoughts of Astarion. In an effort to gain closeness to him, you had offered your neck and your blood to him. Over time, for yourself at least, it had become something you anticipated and desired each night; you wished to steal a kiss from him before the ritual. Tonight, you imagine more. You close your eyes, picturing the crescent of his collar bones under his loose silk shirt he wore each evening at camp. The spot where his jaw meets his neck. The feeling of his body pressing against yours, his broad shoulders and chest that narrow delicately to his waist, his hips, his hands…

Tonight you want him, you want what you know he is capable of doing to you. He is to meet you tonight, in your tent, after the others have settled in their own.

You have time though, don’t you…?

You feel blood rush to your pelvis, a slick arousal beginning to pool between your legs.

Unable to curb your desire you trail your cool fingers down your abdomen, pushing up goosebumps as you progress. Already naked under your blankets, you find your clit and begin to rub small circles, gentle and delicately at first. You imagine the smell of Astarion’s hair, sweet with bergamot…

You imagine the smell of Astarion’s hair while he kisses you and touches you the way you touch yourself. A light gasp escapes your lips as the image sends a jolt of energy through your body and you press harder with your fingers. You move on for a moment, pushing two fingers inside of yourself, slightly shocked at how wet you have become. You slip further into your fantasy, imagining Astarion cupping your breast while he fingers you, playing with your nipple, kissing your jaw and neck. Gods, you wish for it.

“Oh my… now what do we have here..?” A voice questions in the darkness at the entrance of your tent.

Your stomach drops, and your eyes jolt open.

Oh. Fuck. You think, feeling your cheeks flush. You in fact, did not have time for this before the object of your desires arrived at your stoop. How long had he been there?

“I… uh, hi,” you croak, your mouth slightly dry from the rhythmic breathing forced by your touch.

Astarion widens the slack door of your tent and lets himself in, an knowing grin across his face. He immediately sits beside you near your pillow. No matter how unreasonable, there was no doubt to you that he knew your pounding heart was beating for him. You sit up, pulling your blanket up to cover your bare chest, feeling unusually exposed in front of him tonight.

“Shall we?” He asks, ignoring what you felt to be the elephant in the room. Though you felt embarrassment, the idea of him watching you touch yourself made your clit pulsate and wetness continue to flow from within you.

“Oh, yes… of course.” You answer, trying to hide your arousal.

Astarion moves behind you, sitting with one leg on either side of you. This was not his usual approach to feeding, and you wonder what he is planning.

“Darling, do lean back for me,” he requests, his voice deep and velvety. You lay back, resting your bare back against him. Your heart continues to pound in your chest and at this point, you were more than certain he could feel it. You tilt your chin back looking up at home with wide eyes and meeting his crimson gaze. He leans forward, and you anticipate the joining of your bodies with his bite.

To your surprise, he lays a gentle kiss on your neck. You gasp, and blink, was this a dream?

“Is that alright, my dear?” he asks, his lips brushing your neck as he spoke. You nod yes, rendered speechless by his kiss. “May I continue?” he asks again, and you nod once more, moving a hand slowly to touch one of his legs.

His kiss meets your neck again, kissing slowly, his fangs only occasionally catching your skin rather than piercing it. You feel your throbbing heartbeat between your legs, as you feel the blanket you had pulled across your chest begin to slip down as you arch your back to allow Astarion more access to your neck. The cool air grasps your nipples and they grow dense and hard in response.

“Would you like to continue to touch yourself?” He asks.

Yes Gods, Yes. You wanted to. You wanted him to watch you. Still, the bewilderment you felt of these fantastical actions playing out squirmed at the back of your mind.

“Please… I do,” you affirm. You send your free hand back down to your folds, and find them even slipperier than they were before. The blanket falls further down your chest until your breasts are fully exposed and it only covers your hand working on your clit.

Astarion moves a hand to one of your breasts, continuing to kiss your neck and jaw. His cool touch sends lighting through your body.

Your clit throbs under your fingers, swollen and sensitive. As much as you desired these moments to last forever, there was certainly no way you would be lasting very long. Moaning and gasping in Astarion’s arms, you rub yourself hungrily.

It doesn’t take much more to reach your peak, bursting into orgasm suddenly. Your hips sway, and you clench rhythmically around nothing. Your back arches and you press the back of your head into Astarion’s shoulder.

Your neck now even more exposed, Astarion sinks his teeth into you, your rich, crimson blood flowing into his mouth. You burn in pain, and you close your eyes, submitting to him.

Eventually, the rush calms, and you are left a panting, bloody mess in Astarion’s arms. You look up to his face again, this time moving to meet his mouth.

You join in a passionate kiss, and he slides his tongue into your mouth. You taste your own blood in his mouth and relish in imaging how much he enjoys the taste of you.

It was an explosion of passion, nearly as satisfying as your orgasm mere moments before. His soft lips sliding against yours, his fangs occasionally catching, his tongue touching and sliding against your own.

You pull away for a moment, looking into his ruby eyes.

“How…?” you ask, unable to find the words to describe your confusion at the sudden encounter, almost a recreation of what had occurred in your mind only moments before his arrival.

Astarion opens his mind to you, psychically linking to yours through the tadpoles that swum in your brain. You needn’t see his thoughts to know what has happened. How could you be so naive, of course the tadpole. Of course. In your fit of sudden insatiable desire, you left yourself almost completely unattended. Anyone who was tadpole-afflicted that happened to be wandering by may as well had been broadcasted the images you had conjured in your mind.

Without words, Astarion interrupts your thoughts. You see into his own mind, and are flustered by what you see. The same feelings you hold towards him, the same desires, the same yearning, the same love - but all for you.

You sit up, turning to look at him straight on, completely at a loss for words. He had wished for this as much as you had. A gentle, warm smile spreads across your face.

“Will you… stay with me tonight?” you ask, your voice faltering, still riddled with disbelief.

“I want nothing more” He replies, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek.

Like twisting vines, the two of you entangle yourselves in each others arms, and cuddle into the bedroll. Exhausted and contented, the worries that plagued your thoughts earlier that evening were nowhere to be found, and you knew that you wouldn’t be kept up from them ever again.

[jwera]

[wyrmsgatebait]

Astarion being an embroiderer breaks my heart, because traditionally it was a skill so tied to daylight. If you looked at illustrations of embroiderers before the advent of electric lights they're always outside or near large sunny windows. Placing intricate stitches with nothing but candlelight to guide you would be a nightmare. In fact, it was outright forbidden in most professional workshops. An artist couldn't be sure of the stitch placement and most importantly the colors were dulled.

[trickstersintime]

The fires of mischief lit in the vampire's eyes at Karlach's enthusiasm. He hadn't been sure she would actually want to do something save hurl insults at the universe and join him on a blood-and-beer bender.

"Oh, I'm very much of the feeling of bad-vampire-bad-barbarian," he replied with a gleeful grin. "Unluckily for him, he lives right next to the Elfsong. All the more reason he could have spotted us. Let's teach him what happens to snitches."

“Little ol’ tailor Tym, eh?” Karlach couldn’t say the name rang any bells, but then again Astarion was that much older, and she’d missed the last decade of life in the city as it was. That wasn’t even to speak of the class divide: likely the only time she’d have been visiting tailors of higher repute would have been with or on behalf of Gortash; not enough to have stuck in her mind.

To think on Gortash set in her mind thoughts of betrayal, and the potential here to do some good by balancing a wrong – particularly one committed against her friend – provided all the encouragement necessary. “Right.” The tiefling clapped her hands together as though decided. “We’ll pay him a visit. You wanna good-vampire-bad-barbarian this and let me turn up the heat, or do you wanna deck him first?”     

@trickstersintime

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

I love cuddly Astarion—him finding peace and safety in his lover’s arms, someone caressing his skin, keeping him warm.

But I really like the idea of Astarion doing the same for his lover, actively being their safe space, watching over their rest. Choosing to hold them. It would be such a novel experience for him, being loved and cherished and proudly returning the favour, knowing that he’s actually able to keep his loved ones safe, mostly from himself and any fate they would’ve suffered with Cazador still around.