#stupid vampire fic

[bloodiedrogue]

STUPID, DASHING VAMPIRE

SUMMARY: Astarion attempts to help you after a bad flare up.

PAIRING: Astarion & Gender Neutral Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,110

WARNINGS: Descriptions of chronic pain. Also unedited because I can't be bothered, my hands hurt too much.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Had a bad flare up and decided to whip up something a bit indulgent for all the arthritic bitches out there. <3

MASTERLIST

-

“Darling?”

You hear him call to you from the doorway, a hint of curiosity laced in his words, most likely wondering why you’re still here. As he comes up to greet you, you notice the soft expression that quickly turns into worry once he sees you, both brows moving towards the centre of his face as he crouches down. 

“Are you alright?”

Wedged between your thumb and your forefinger the lock pick you’re attempting to use sits idle in your hands, refusing to budge through the stiffness of your joints as you sigh. 

At this point, you’ve been at it for ages —trying to will your digits to perform the simplest of duties. Originally, the plan was for Astarion to loot the other room while you’d work through this one but not long after you’d started you began to feel that familiar itch. That pulsating ache that often hits you after a long day’s worth of travelling. 

“I’m fine. It’s just —it’s—“

Frustrated, you force your hands to drop the lock pick. Hearing it clatter to the ground, you deeply inhale and bring your frozen hands to your temples, pressing your wrists against the heated skin, realizing it’s been a while since you’ve had a flareup this bad. So long that you almost forgot how awful it could feel. How such a small, innocuous sensation could become so largely detrimental to your well-being. 

“Is it just your hands?” 

Already knowing, he reaches out for your palms, pulling them away from your face as he further situates himself on the floor, watching you shake your head. 

“Back too?”

This time you nod, swallowing hard once you feel his focus shift to your left hand, turning it over so that the palm faces both of you. 

“My poor little pet.” He shakes his head, a sombre smile creeping across his face as he presses his thumbs into the muscles of your hand, roughly gliding across it in repeated motions. “What am I to do with you, hm?” 

You roll your eyes, a sliver of annoyance passing through as he clicks his tongue arrogantly. “Your sarcasm is unappreciated, you know.”

“So is the lack of regard towards your own health.”

Raising his brow at you, you realize then his concern is genuine. That, despite the chastising tone he offers, there are also a few inklings of sympathy laced throughout, showcasing themselves in the form of rough fingers that try to ease your pain. 

As much as you hate to admit it, you’re thankful for them. Thankful for him, as he works to soothe the residual pain that radiates up through your wrist, catching at your stiffened elbow.  

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I can—”

“What? Do it yourself?” 

You go to respond but suddenly feel a stabbing pain in your lower back, making you wince. 

Gods, somehow it’s worse than you remember.

“Darling, as much as I love your unwavering resilience, I think it’s best I let you know that sometimes you tend to overdo it.” 

Normally, you’d be tempted to argue but right now all you can feel is the collective agony pooling throughout your bones. All the twitching and the aching —each section of discomfort working together to render you useless against his hands that begin to move to your other hand.

Once there, he moves to repeat the motions. Taking both of his thumbs and digging them into your flesh, he circles around each spot, gripping your fingers in place as you lean back in an attempt to alleviate your lower back.

“Does this even help or am I just rubbing your hand for no reason?”

You huff out a pained laugh, watching him break out into a grin. One that’s all teeth and tongue —cheeky looking. 

“I mean, it’s not not helping.”

“But it’s not the cure to your ailment, I assume.” 

You nod but make no effort to stop him as his fingers continue to move across your skin, applying enough pressure so that you can really feel the labour he so graciously offers you. 

“Is there something else you usually do, or?”

“Lay down and cry mostly. Wait for it to pass.” 

He snorts. “How awfully depressing.” 

You shrug your shoulders, watching as he performs a few more swipes with his thumbs, really getting in there for those final pushes before he releases your hand altogether, making you sigh. 

“We should probably get you back to camp then, hm?”

Suddenly, moving to stand, he continues to grin at you in a way that makes your chest tighten, watching as he offers his hand, wiggling his fingers impatiently. “C’mon now, darling, we don’t got all day. The sun will be setting and I’m sure the camp would appreciate you getting all that weeping over and done with before bed time.” 

You drop your jaw in false annoyance, offering your hand to him. “Wow, you’re really just going to throw my own misery back in my face like that, huh?” 

“Obviously.” 

Gently pulling, you feel that same painful shift in your spine that forces you to wince again, prompting Astarion to rush back down, filling with concern as he asks if you’re alright.

“Mhm, yup never better,” you say through gritted teeth, feeling his arm immediately snake around your waist, pulling you tightly against his hip. 

“You’re a terrible liar.” 

“And you’re a bully who makes fun of ill people.” 

He huffs and gently drags you up to your feet as you groan in response, feeling the tightness of your back begin to loosen thanks to the new position. 

“Good?” 

Tentatively stepping forward, you let out a sigh of relief once you realize that it is. That, instead of your body completely inhibiting you as it so often does, this time it’s granted you enough reprieve to be able to walk on your own. To slowly step forward through the doorway, watching as Astarion hovers cautiously beside you, reaching out to grab your waist as you falter for a moment. 

“Please don’t overdo it. I’d hate to have to carry you all the way back.”

Gripping his shoulder, you offer him a smug look. “As if you could.”

His jaw clenches in response as he further wraps his arm around you, gently digging his fingers into your side. “Big talk coming from someone who can barely walk without the help of their dashing vampire friend.” 

You roll your eyes and look away, feeling his previously rough hand begin to soften against you, once again rubbing soft circles, this time along your side as you move through the doorway, thankful for your stupid, dashing vampire.

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

[lizardkingeliot]

I haven't done WIP Wednesday in foreverrrr so who wants a little sneak peek of the Lousat post-season 2 finale thing I'm currently working on? I'm trying soooo hard to finish this thing as quickly as I can but I've just been so busy and distracted these past couple days. I'm hoping to have a nice chunk of time to get some writing done today tho. Fingers crossed I have this up within the next week or so! 🥰

—

Lestat was talking in his sleep.

“Louis, Louis…”

Louis opened his eyes to the sound of his name falling from Lestat’s mouth like some sacred litany. He drew a breath. He could feel Lestat’s withered heart beating where they lay so close together. Could hear it pulsing on the air like some flagging piece of machinery.

“Louis. Louis.”

He was pressed to Louis from his head to his feet. Wrapped around Louis in the coffin like he was trying to meld their flesh together. His face tucked into the hollow of Louis’ throat as he muttered and dreamed.

“Louis. Louis. Louis—”

“Les. Hey…” Louis rubbed tiny circles against Lestat’s back, right between the pale crests of his shoulders. Feeling the cool skin under his tattered robe. Feeling the bones and flesh underneath. “Lestat. Hey. Wake up.”

Lestat flinched. Inhaled. Gasping, desperate sound of waking. “Louis…” Shaking in Louis’ arms like something on the verge of collapse. Skin like vellum, like breath. The quivering, fragile skin of a human being. “Louis. You’re…”

“Hey…” Louis pressed a kiss against Lestat's golden head. Outside the dark cocoon of the coffin, hurricane Odette was still raging. Wind howling through the shattered windows of the cottage on Dumaine Street. Rain falling through the cracks in the ceiling, pattering the coffin with its melody. “Hey. It’s okay, I’m—”

“Louis. You’re really here with me?”

[divineatrophy]

“Is this how you sleep?” he asks incredulously, his forehead wrinkling with the power of his judgment. He’s clearly been awake for a minute, though if he’s suffering from a hangover after last night’s misadventure, it’s not immediately apparent. He’s showered, his hair still wet, and smells like the lavender shampoo Daniel picked up because the label said it’s supposed to be relaxing. And he’s wearing— “Are those my clothes?” “Is it?” Armand asks again. “My clothes? Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” They’re sure as hell not the clothes he was wearing last night, or clothes that fit right. And that’s definitely his gray hoodie, complete with the mustard stain that took it out of the outside-clothes rotation. “How you sleep,” he presses. He frowns. “You’re in a closet, Daniel.”

chapter 2: breakfast, lunch, and bad TV

[sandinthepipes]

I am here once again to remind you of the potential vampire Jaskier has.

Little fragile and mortal human Jaskier, used to rely on others for safety is suddenly given incredible powers with which he could rival Gerald if he wanted to. He was given the ability to say enough without fearing for his life.

[little-bumblebeeee]

Moonlight - part 1

werewolf!Steve x vampire!Eddie

There are werewolves in Hawkins. Yeah right, and there are monsters under the bed. That's Eddie's reasoning. Vampires don't exist, neither do werewolves or monsters or the boogeyman or mermaids or any similar creature. The howling at full moon nights are probably some weirdo trying to scare kids - hell, he'd do it too - and the reason Dustin Henderson keeps buying an insane amount of raw meat on those nights is because...the Hendersons like beef? Look, Eddie doesn't know, he just knows he's not falling for some myth.

"Well, if you're so brave go stay the night in the woods tomorrow night during the full moon." Gareth tells him with arms crossed in front of him and poking Eddie pretty damn hard in the arm. "I just might." Eddie retorts, though he knows he'll probably book it out of there the second he hears a twig snap, but there are people around. He can't act like a scared little kid. So that's why he's lugging a tent and a bag of snacks into the woods because he's not gonna let his stomach rumbling give away where he is to any crazy murderers hiding in the woods or werewolves - not like they exist or anything.

He had to get Wayne to teach him how to set up a tent at least 5 times before he even stepped near the woods. His flashlight sweeps the ground, the fresh batteries making it brighter than ever. Is he paranoid? Pfft, no, he's just not dumb, he's seen horror movies. It's quiet for a few hours, and Eddie totally doesn't almost squeal like a scared middle schooler who hasnt hit puberty yet when he sees a silhouette stumbling next to his tent. He can hear their heavy breathing, they must've ran here. They say a choked sounding string of curse words and - wait, Harrington? That's clearly his voice, what is he doing here? And why is he running? Is he running from something!?

Eddie peeks his head just a little bit out of the tent to see Steve there, keeled over and breathing like he'd just run a marathon. He looks like he's in pain as he falls to his knees, digging his nails - no, claws into the ground. He didn't have claws yesterday, what the actual hell!?

So, Eddie does what Eddie does best, he runs. He runs and runs and runs until he falls over because even though he's good at running away from things he hasn't gotten proper exercise in at least a couple years. Luckily there's no beast chasing him, only a howling far in the woods. He sounds like he's in pain, and part of Eddie wants to go back - but the sensible part of him is telling him to keep running. How deep was he in the woods? He's pretty sure he wasn't even that far yet they seem never ending. He's starting to panic, he feels like he's in a horror movie with the thuds and snarls behind him and never ending forest. He knows you're not supposed to look back but he does and... he isn't getting chased? Harrington, now fully transformed, has just slowly walked away and curled up. Whimpering.

It's so surprising Eddie slows to a jog, Steve reminding him less of a ferocious beast and more of a big dog that's all bark and no bite. The sensible part of him is screaming for him to keep running, but he's tired of running, his ribs hurt, and he wants to pet the big scary wolf. So he goes to pet the big scary wolf, almost immediately regretting when Steve snarls at him, opening one eye that's surprisingly the same honey brown.

But even more surprisingly, Steve stops snarling, nudging his head under Eddie's hand and closing his eyes once more like a dog. He's calm, just lying there. "Uh...good boy?" Eddie says, not sure if he should call Steve that in case he's still kind of human. He's never going to let Steve live this down. Steve "Good Boy" Harrington.

Okay maybe he shouldn't use that one in front of his friends. Bad idea. Very bad. Yup. Icky. He leans his back against the tree, Steve's head on his lap. It's kind of nice, Eddie struggling to stay awake as he literally cuddles a big ferocious beast. He's pretty sure Steve falls asleep at some point too, so he doesn't mind leaning back against the tree trunk and closing his eyes.

He knows he has Steve to protect him if anything happens. And he does, even if a bunny gets too close to Eddie as he sleeps Steve will snarl until it runs away, making sure not to wake the sleeping beauty he's laying his head on.

This won't go anywhere, Steve will make sure of it, but it's nice. And it'll be nice until morning comes, until Steve has to run away to find that little log he stuffed his bag of clothes in because he doesn't want to explain how his clothes ripped when he transformed. So, Eddie wakes up to nothing except a weird looking bug on his hand and a memory of soft fur that he really hopes was a weird ass dream.

Let me know if you want a part 2 and if so if you want to be tagged as well!! Also cut me some slack, this is my first serious fic ._. (little picture up top by me, pictures taken from pinterest)

PART 2!!! :D

[showmey0urfangs]

----

See, posts like this one here are what makes me think that some people must have watched a completely different show than I did.

This idea that Louis is drawn to Lestat because Lestat emasculates him is an odd one given that—do you know who else emasculates Louis? Literally every fucking white man he meets on a daily basis;

Tom Anderson, who calls Louis a most discrete negro and to whom Louis still has to say “Yes sir Mr. Anderson sir.”

The white lawyer who calls Louis an exceptional negro before condescendingly tapping him on the head like a dog—and whom Louis rips to shreds shortly after as a result.

Fenwick, who looks down on Louis and resents that Louis turned down his scraps. Who accuses Louis of being arrogant for wanting to rise above his station— and whom Louis guts like a pig and leaves on display as a warning to other white men who would want to disrespect him.

So does Louis also want to fuck all these other white men? Is he irresistibly aroused by their racist comments towards him and by the humiliating way they treat him?

Not to mention that Louis also grew up with a mother who emasculated him constantly, in whose eyes he was never good enough. She treated him as less than his whole life despite the fact that he provided for her and his entire family—including his good for nothing brother-in-law Levi, who Florence later replaces Louis with because, in her eyes, he makes a better son than Louis ever could.

His own mother who tells him “Don't come back fragile son” and who mocks him for the way he dresses and for his sexuality.

And yet you think being emasculated is what seduced Louis and drew him to Lestat?

It was nothing special to Louis, he was emasculated every single fucking day of his life.

What was different about his interaction with Lestat is that Lestat tells him they are “destined to be very good friends”, that Lestat openly compliments Louis and praises him, that Lestat says he is only in New Orleans because of Louis, that Louis is his destiny.

That's what draws Louis in and not the fact that Lestat initially talks down to him like every other racist piece of shit he meets when he enters into spaces where his society dictates he is not supposed to be.

Louis does not get drawn to Lestat because Lestat wins the dick-measuring contest—which makes Louis angry to the point where he wants to slit Lestat's throat with his cane sword—but in spite of it.

In that scene, Lestat was like one of those lame pick-up artists who insult you to lower your self-esteem so that you will respond better to their advances when they later compliment you. It's a classic manipulation technique and it works as intended because, in all his anger and frustration at the exchange, Louis still liked the way Lestat tied a string around his lungs.

I mean did you even listen to the speech Lestat makes in the church to convince Louis to accept the dark gift?

Notice how among all the things Lestat lists he includes deferential businessman.

That's because being deferential to white men is not Louis's true nature, and Lestat knows this. It is something that was forced upon him by the primitive country he lives in.

Louis says yes to Lestat in the church because Lestat promises he can free Louis from all of it and allow him to finally live, not just as an equal, but as something far superior.

Lestat promises Louis—a man who has been disempowered his entire life—a power he can't begin to imagine (and also love and acceptance as an added bonus).

We later find out this was a lie, of course—becoming a vampire does not free Louis from having to experience structural racism and homophobia. As Jacob said in this interview, as a black vampire you can kill and eat one racist or maybe even a thousand but you can't singlehandedly dismantle systemic racism.

So this implication that because Louis is disenfranchised by the racist society he lives in, it must mean he enjoys being degraded, enjoys being talked down to, enjoys being treated as less of a man simply because of the colour of his skin or his sexual preference is INSANE to me.

This kind of discourse, coming from people who claim to be Louis fans is frankly baffling because it's no different than the racist Lestat stans who always want to shift the blame onto Louis for everything Lestat subjects him to during their relationship. This is no different than saying that Louis chose to be abused, was asking for it, and even secretly enjoyed it. That Louis was looking for an excuse to fight with Lestat and probably loved getting beaten within an inch of his life like I saw some idiot say in a comment the other day.

Listen, I'm all for everyone having their own interpretation of the show but in my humble opinion, if you think along these lines then you have fundamentally misunderstood both Louis and Lestat as characters and the dynamic of their relationship. But most importantly you have completely missed the main point that both the show and the book are trying to make.

[maenecoon]

🌪️🌧️🦇2️⃣

(Because I love your Phayurain vampire AU and I suspect this is connected)

i'm surprised people still read my phayurain fics, considering how much i Haven't been talking about them, oopsies!

a short one for you, anon <33

--

“P’Phayu, would you love me if I was a bat?” Rain asks, seeming unassuming.

“Why, yes, I would, why?”

There's a suspicious glint in Rain’s eyes, one that often spells trouble in bold letters.

“Varain, I swear if youー”

The warning falls short as Rain’s figure disappears in a blink, in his place a fluffy little bat staring up at him with his huge, beady eyes.

“ー are doing this to get out of your chores, for God’s sake!” Phayu sighs in exasperation as the batling begins to take off, flapping his wings with a gleeful chirp.

[pigeonstab]

The vampire Killer /werewolf Cross thing (WHICH I HAVEN'T EVEN MADE DESIGNS FOR YET) has made me kinda maybe want to try writing. A fic. Of some kind of other. Lololol do not take this as a promise I've only done creative writing in middle school T T

[noodyl-blasstal]

Not that kind of apocalpyse!

Sometimes you might ask yourself, “What if Taakitz kissed in the historical fish castle during the zombie apocalypse?” Well I answered it.

Happy Birthday @ceilingfan5!

Read below or on Ao3

-

“There’s someone outside!” Lup shouts from her spot at the periscope.

Fuck. Of course Taako was going to have to deal with this on his watch. The trouble always waited until Magnus was busy flexing somewhere else and Merle was off doing unspeakable things in the garden. 

“Someone, or something?” He asks. He tries not to let the weariness creep into his tone, but Taako’s so tired of this bullshit. First he got called in on his first day off in weeks… months? Who fucking knows any more; then he got zombie apocalypsed; and now everyone’s trying to eat him and not in the good way. Not that there’s any chance of boning down with anyone in the near future because he’s related to, or may as well be related to, everyone he knows is currently alive - well, apart from the peppy idiots on the radio who keep advertising their ‘zombie free wonderland’, but Taako doesn’t trust easily and whatever they’re selling seems too good to be true. 

“Cha’girl said what she said.” Lup doesn’t move away, just adjusts the scope.

“People?”

“Person, singular, a guy I think.” 

“Are you definitely sure he’s people?”

“Are you definitely sure you want to keep asking me?” Lup doesn’t pull her eyes away from the periscope, but she does give him the finger. It’s artful really, her spatial awareness is a thing of wonder.

Before he can think, Taako opens his mouth to pretend to bite it off, it’s reflex as much as anything, but he closes it gently, doesn’t snap his teeth. That bit is a lot less funny than it used to be. Watching a loved one nearly get chomped will do that for you.

“Can I see?” Taako asks instead of answering, he’s not going to do anything completely out of character like admitting fault.

“Hang on…” Lup turns the scope side to side. Fuck.”

“What?”

“Shush a minute.” Lup hisses.

Ah yes, telling Taako to shush, the thing that works every time. “What’s going on?”

“Shit! Run, dude, run” She mutters.

“Lup! What’s happening?”

“Biter.” She turns the scope slowly. “Two… At the moment. I don’t know if he’s seen them.”

“Do you want Taako to…?” Taako gestures at the ladder up to the harpoon gun.

Lup stays fixed to the scope but still manages to nod. “Be ready, see if he needs it. He’s by the unfortunately shaped hill, but he’s moving fast towards the tree that looks like it’s doing a high kick.”

Taako climbs up the ladder into the ramparts and pulls the shutter back from the slightly-wider-than-intended crenellation (thanks to Magnus’ enthusiasm). He zeroes in fast with Lup’s directions. There’s definitely two of them, if not more, lurking behind the dude as he walks. Taako hopes he’s aware of them. He could be, the guy’s walking with purpose. He’s glad, Taako hates dawdlers, not least because he used to be one by choice and now he has to zoom everywhere because he’d like to keep living actually please and thank you.

“You didn’t tell me he was hot!” Taako bellows down to Lup. A crime of the highest order, frankly, it’s been a while since Taako’s had anything good to look at and he could have been looking much faster.

“You can’t see him well enough to know if he’s hot or not, he’s too far away.” Lup yells back. 

The guy turns his head in their direction. It’s a nice face, a really nice face, that he’s working with there.

“See! Hot!” Taako refuses to let her get away with this on a technicality. He knew in his bones the guy was good looking, Lup should have too. He sticks his tongue out in her direction. She might not be able to see him, but she’ll know.

“He’s coming this way.” She shouts up.

“What?” Taako looks back, using the wildly inaccurate harpoon sights that Barry was definitely getting round to fixing (it was for the best he left them alone at this point, Taako automatically adjusted for it now.) Hot boy had changed trajectory and was heading their way. “But there’s… fuck!”

Taako slides the harpoon to the side, sees the biter who was lurking on the guy’s tail. Shit. It’s close, too close. He jumps up and bellows with everything in him. “Hey, hey handsome! Watch out!” He’s too hot to die. 

They make eye contact and this is it, this is the thing they wrote about, that they sing about, that’s on the TV. It’s electric, it’s perfect, it’s… 

“Run you absolute dickhead!” Lup bellows from beside Taako. He needs to get her a bell. “Stop staring at my idiot brother and run!” She elbows Taako and mutters. “Idiot.”

The man shakes out of it and glances round in time to see the biter on his tail. Taako hears the faint “Oh fuck!” on the wind as the guy starts running. Thankfully in the direction of the drawbridge. Shit. The drawbridge.

“We need to let him in.” Taako says, urgently.

“C’mon.” Lup’s already heading for the ladder.

Taako scrambles after her, slides down the ladder, and lands in a roll. He jumps up and does the ‘tah dah!’ arms, but Lup’s already gone. That’s fine, he can appreciate his own talents, he doesn’t need adoration from the masses or anything.

Lup yanks on the lever that releases the drawbridge and the portcullis raises at speed, narwhal horns raising up to hang like as many sharp teeth. They’ve saved them all a few times.

“Go go go!!!” Taako yells, hopefully encouragingly. He’s sure not going out there, but shouting he can do.

“I’m going to get my gun.” Lup mutters.

The man’s close, really close, when the zombie lurches out from behind the tree. Not high kick tree, it would never betray Taako like that, one of the bog standard ones. One of the ones he’s going to burn down because it just killed Taako’s new boyfriend. It’s fine, he’s allowed to get ahead of himself, this dude’s going to be nothing but a ‘what if’ now.

The zombie grabs the man’s arm and tries to bite his hand, the guy twists away, punches it in the face, gives it his best shot. Of course he does, he’s got something to live for, he’s trying to survive, trying to make it to Taako. The biter grabs his ankle and drags him to the floor.

Two spears take down the other zombies before they can reach the man and join the feast.

“I can’t get a clean shot.” Lup says mournfully beside him. She glances round, then walks carefully forward, spear gun raised.

“You have to stop doing that.” Taako hisses and steps along beside her. He’s trying to have a moment here, to give his dying future husband the reverence he deserves. They were going to adopt so many cats. It would have been beautiful. He’s not in the mood to be spooked.

“Counterpoint, you have to work on your awareness.” Lup nudges him.

“No need when I have you, sister mine! Taako’s all good.” He walks carefully beside her, remembers to step over the crack in the resin flagstones left after The Incident.

Lup does the face she does when he pretends he’s not training (he refuses to give up the possibility of being blase about the zombies, even if he’s been doing endless crunches, and parkour, and whatever other nonsense Lup and Magnus insist is going to save their lives, at night when no one’s watching. Well, apart from Agnes, but if he wants Taako to ever bake the cookies he likes again he’ll stay quiet.)

They’re close enough now to see that the zombie’s still gnashing, but the guy’s clearly fighting back. Maybe he’s not a goner yet?

“Maybe we can… you know, help?” Taako glances round and can’t see any others nearby.

“He might be infected… I guess I could…” Lup’s mouth tightens into a hard line.

“No! Don’t help him dead, like, help help!” Taako steps closer gingerly. As he gets into range of grabbing and pulling the biter off, it shudders and goes still. There’s no movement underneath it either. Of course. Brilliant, fucking brilliant. “Just Taako’s luck. The first hot guy cha’boy sees since the apocalypse apocalypsed, and he immediately gets himself chomped.”

Lup pats him sympathetically on the shoulder. “Next time ‘Ko”

“You think I’m hot?” The man asks, rolling the un-undead corpse unceremoniously to the side.

“Fuck!” Lup and Taako jump back as one.

“Stay there!” Lup aims the spear gun squarely at his head. “Did you get bit?”

“You have to tell us if you did, otherwise it’s entrapment.” Taako adds. Because why shouldn’t he have a little fun, honestly. He winks, so the guy knows Taako’s not going to be waving any spears at him… well unless he plays his cards right…

“Who enforces zombie entrapment law?” Hotboy asks as if he genuinely cares, as if he’s passionate about legal rights and wants to make sure the lawyer provided is up to the job. He probably does care. It’s the end of the world and Taako meets someone who’s hot and funny and willing to play legal zombism so of course Taako’s also going to have to put him down or, more likely, watch while Lup does it and try not to cry about it until he’s alone in bed later.

“You’re not allowed to distract us with legalese, that’s also entrapment, probably.” Taako adds authoritatively.

The man  smiles brightly in his direction. “I didn’t get bit.”

“Prove it.” Lup’s aim doesn’t waiver.

The man sighs. “My name’s Kravitz.”

“What does that prove?” Lup makes a ‘get on with it’ gesture with the gun.

“I usually like to make sure a guy knows my name before I strip in front of him.” He doesn’t break eye contact with Taako.

“Taako.” Taaok stares right back. He’s not a looking people in the eyes guy, but this? This is competitive looking, and if there’s anything Taako loves it’s winning.

“I’m Lup and this is gross, break it up right now!” Lup sounds genuinely disgusted. Good, honestly. He’s been living with her and Barold since this all started, he deserves at least a little revenge for his trouble.

“But you said…” Kravitz’s hands still on his leather jacket’s zip.

“I said prove you didn’t get bit. Like, show me your hands and arms and the bits that were actually anywhere near the dead guy. The medic can fully assess you after that.”

“Fine.” He shows her his hands and his collar bones, and his arms, they’re nice arms. “But what if I got bitten earlier?” 

“Did you?” Taako asks quickly.

“No. But I could have been and you wouldn’t know. Someone should check.” Kravitz glances at Taako.

“Cha’boy will do it. You know, to save you having to, Lu.”

“Uh huh, sure, yeah, a brave sacrifice. Now move it, both of you, I want to get the drawbridge up and the portcullis down.” Lup finally lowers the spear gun.

“Portcullis… So… uh… I did want to ask.” Kravitz begins gingerly as he walks across the bridge and into the castle.

“Uh huh.” Taako tries to look like he couldn’t possibly imagine what Kravitz is about to ask.

“I couldn’t help but notice…” Kravitz says gently, carefully.

“You noticed something?” Lup asks sweetly, as she begins to turn the crank.

“That you’re in a castle.” Kravitz finishes as the portcullis falls into place and the drawbridge is lifted.

“It’s not a castle!” Lup and Taako say as one.

“It’s not a castle?” Kravitz asks, warily eyeing the fish themed portcullis.

“It’s so much more, Kraveroo. Welcome to SeaBlaster, we’ve got fish, and the things you use to squish… them.” Taako does his best business smile, the one that they paid him slightly above minimum wage for, and does an adequate job of jazz hands (those didn’t come cheap.)

“It’s not really squishing though, is it?” Kravitz asks, like that’s the only problem with anything that’s happening right now.

“Hey, hey Kravitz, just to check, the only problem you have with the aquari-museum we now live in is the tagline not quite making sense because most of this stuff is used to stab and not squish?” 

“No!” Kravitz says indignantly. “Whales also aren’t fish. There’s no way the harpoon you were at was used on anything that wasn’t a marine mammal!” 

Lup snorts.

Taako groans. “You’ll get on well with Angles.”

“Who’s Angles?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But I…”

“Ssssh.” Taako pats Kravitz’s shoulder reassuringly. Plenty of time for that.

There’s a long beat of silence as Lup begins to stride back to the staff room. Or, well, the common room as they call it these days, it’s homier, apparently.

Taako inclines his head and Kravitz follows obediently. Good to know.

“So how long have you been here?” Kravitz asks, falling into step beside him.

“This doesn’t seem fair. You’ve already had a load of questions.” Taako looks at Kravitz and smiles, just to be sure he knows it’s a joke.

“You can ask some things.” Kravitz looks positively overjoyed at the prospect.

“How’d you kill it?” Taako asks. He didn’t hear a gun or anything.

“Er…” There’s a long pause.

Taako stops dead. “Kravitz?”

“No wait, it’s not weird.”

“If you have to say it’s not weird, Taako’s inclined to think it’s gonna be weird.”

“But I said it wasn’t!” Kravitz protests, as if that has ever worked.

“People are asking a lot of questions that my “the way I killed the zombie wasn’t weird” tshirt already answered… C’mon, just tell Taako.”

“Staked it.” Kravitz mutters.

“You fucking what now?” 

“I staked it.” Kravitz over-ennunciates, spitefully, Taako loves it. Can they keep him forever?

“My question stands.”

“I used a stake. I staked it.” Kravitz shrugs nonchalantly like that’s not completely ridiculous. “You use what very much looks like a historical whaling harpoon!” He adds, as if that’s relevant right now. He’s right though.

“You just…” Taako mimes stabbing Kravitz through the heart. It’s slightly more dramatic than it needs to be, sure, but how often does a guy get to go full Dracula-murder?

“Obviously not, that doesn’t work. I…” Kravitz steps towards him and mimes stabbing Taako through the eye. It brings them close, nearly touching close.

“Show cha’boy again? I missed it.” Taako leans forward.

Kravitz looks confused for a second, there’s a beat where Taako thinks he’s pushed his luck too far. Before he can apologise though, Kravitz is cradling the back of Taako’s head with one hand.

“Like this.” He says softly, barely a whisper, as he fuels whatever is crackling between them and brings his fake-stake wielding hand towards Taako’s eye.

“Urgh, quit it!” Lup yells back at them and flings the door to the common room open. “Taako’s got a…” the door swings blessedly shut before she can finish her sentence, but Taako can hear the chorus of questions immediately rumble up in response.

“Er…  you wanna shower? Before you, you know, meet the gang?” Taako gestures expansively at the door which is currently rattling. He can just about hear Magnus’ protests and mentally thanks Lup (or whoever it is) preventing him from barrelling into the hallway, hugging Kravitz to death and asking him a bajillion questions before without giving him a chance to answer. It’d still be better than Merle appearing though.

“You have one?” Kravitz sounds suspicious.

“Are you trying to say Taako smells?” Taako tries not to be offended, but it should be obvious to anyone he has a shower. The apocalypse has never looked so good!

“No!” Kravitz’s indignation is reassuring at least. “I just… It’s…” He peters out.

“Been a while?” Taako asks, giving Kravitz a deeply un-subtle once over.

“Not for lack of wanting.” Kravitz replies, and the want is palpable.

“Taako can definitely help you out there, handsome. Don’t you worry. If Kravitz wants, Kravitz can get.” Taako hopes he’s inflected exactly enough emphasis to be sure Kravitz knows which page they’re on. The sex page of the sex book. “It’s this way.” Taako leads Kravitz down the hallway and towards the stone staircase to the aquarium. They figured the geothermal heat would be good for bedroom temperature as well as the tropical fish. It was a solid bet. “So, how’d you end up with stakes?”

“Is that a fish tank?” Kravitz’s attention is immediately gone. He’s pressed to the tank and marvelling at the clownfish darting around and Taako hates each and every one of them because Kravitz should be looking at him instead.

“Taako wasn’t kidding about the ‘aquari’ bit in the welcome spiel, my dude. We’ve got fish, we’ve got historical fishing weaponry, and all of that comes with a ridiculous part fibreglass, part stone, largely fish themed castle. Buy now for the low low price of spending the rest of forever here, or at least until the bugs eat all the zombies to death or whatever.”

“I’m sold!” Kravitz says, worryingly enthusiastically, as he presses himself to the fish tank viewing window. It’s disgustingly adorable and Taako hates himself for the way his stomach clenches in the ‘going over a bumpy bit of road and loving it’ way.

“So… how’d you get the stake?” Taako refuses to be deterred from finding out.

“Whittled it.” Kravitz says too quickly. 

“Why?” Taako asks. There’s something here, there’s a string to pull at and he’s gonna.

“You know, end of the world.” Kravitz flaps his hand dismissively.

“C’mon. You can tell me, the shower’s just over here.” Taako opens the door to his quarters. Well. His ‘office’. They all just picked their favourite and took over. Taako’s is set a bit further away from the others and had a bathroom next door which is now an ensuite, because there’s not a chance in hell anyone’s coming back for this place after, and if they do they’re gonna be owed so much back pay that it wouldn’t be worth the counter-suit for the wages to try and make him repair the wall.

“Here’s the bathroom.” Taako nudges open the door and wishes that he’d spent literally any time cleaning his room in the last mmm… day…s…week… It’s fine. It’s the end of the world, you don’t have to be neat and tidy when humanity’s clinging on by a thread. Not that he was before, but Kravitz doesn’t need to know that. “And here’s a fresh towel.” He shoves one at Kravitz. 

“This smells like mint?” Kravitz says like Taako’s magic. Taako could get used to this level of adoration.

“It’s antimicrobial.” Taako says, because apparently apocalypse flirting is letting the guy you like know your towels don’t have diseases.

“But how did you get it?”

“Hydroponics.” 

“How did you…” Kravitz starts to ask. 

“Not questions for Taako. I deal in fish and harpoons, you’ll need Merle for garden questions and I can guarantee that he’ll answer with more detail than you want and you’ll regret it as much as everyone else does when they ask.

“I don’t mind getting to learn new thing.” Kravitz sounds worryingly interested.

“It’s not about the plants, well it is… but not, you know… in the way you want… it’s not about the things you want to…” Taako squinches his face up remembering The Onion Incident. He hasn’t cooked with them since.

“You’re making it sound like it’s a sex thing.” Kravitz laughs heartily, poor sweet fool. Taako’s silence clearly speaks volumes. “Wait… you mean…?”

“Anyway, here’s the shower.” Taako says quick, loud, and brokering no further vegetable sex questions. He refuses to let Merle ruin this for him. He points at it, just in case Kravitz somehow missed the cubicle, and starts to leave.

“Wait!” Kravitz says quickly. “You needed to check me out!” Kravitz grabs Taako’s arm as he turns away. “I mean… you know, for safety.”

“Well, if you insist.” Taako steps inside and closes the door behind him. “For safety, of course.” 

“Of course.” Kravitz says smooth as butter. Then immediately fumbles his zip in a rush to get his jacket off.

“You okay there, Kemosabe?” Taako tries not to laugh.

“I’m fine!” Kravitz’s voice has the slightest hint of desperation. “Absolutely fine. I’m trying to get naked in front of the most handsome man I think I’ve possibly ever laid eyes on, which is, may I say, an achievement at the end of the world as we know it, I knew guys who had access to, you know, stuff.”

“Ah, stuff.” Taako says wisely, trying very hard not to flick his hair dramatically and show Kravitz just how correct he is.

“Stuff.” Kravitz continues. Tugging at his zip again. “... and now I can’t get out of…” he gives a dramatic wiggle “...this stupid…”

“Let me.” Taako steps forward. “Taako can look after you.” He looks Kravitz dead in the eyes as he slides the zip down slowly, and thanks fate that it actually works. He probably could have dragged the jacket up over Kravitz’s head, but this way is so much better, this way means Kravitz is looking at him like he wants to eat him - in the good way. The good good way.

“Thank you.” Kravitz says, close, very close. Close enough for Taako to breathe him in and…

“Wait… shit. Hang on. Is that <i>garlic</i>???” Taako immediately abandons all thought of getting off, because if this is what he thinks…

“Er… I can expl…”

Taako pats at Kravitz’s chest. “There!” He thrusts his hand into the jacket’s inside pocket, hopes he’s right, he’s rewarded with a tight white bulb.

Garlic! It had been months, months, since Lucretia overwatered his stash and killed the last hope for flavour. He still hadn’t forgiven her. “I could kiss you.”

“You can if you want.” Kravitz looks so earnest, so hopeful, that Taako does, presses his lips firmly to Kravitz’s, brokering no room for confusion. He wants this, he means this. It’s intended as a quick thing, a temptation, but the way Kravitz melts into it though, the way he pushes himself forward into Taako, it’s delicious, it’s intoxicating, it’s… deeply uncomfortable.

Taako pulls back. “How much stuff have you got in here?” He flicks the jacket, then his hands are on the buttons of Kravitz’s shirt, working away, before Kravitz can reply. “Why is this cross so massive? It really digs in.” Taako lifts the ridiculously sized, heavy, solid silver cross that’s hanging round Kravitz’s neck and lets it drop again. Maybe he loves Jesus? Although he also seems pretty into boning before marriage… hmm.

“Er…”

Taako pulls Kravitz’s jacket open to reveal a series of inside pockets full of stakes. “How many of these did you make?”

“I… uh… Look, Taako.”

Taako reaches into the external chest pocket and pulls out a vial of clear liquid. “Small water bottle, my guy. Couldn’t find anything else to drink from? Glass doesn’t seem practical.” Taako narrows his eyes. 

“It’s…” Kravitz looks panicked. Taako should have known he was too good to be true. “It’s good for the environment…” 

Taako raises an eyebrow at him.

“...and also It’s a back up.” Kravitz smiles, winningly. It doesn’t work.

“Why do you have so many of them?” Taako pats at his pockets again. “Wait, is this more garlic?” It is… four more bulbs. Kravitz leans in as if he thinks Taako’s going to kiss him again. He does, obviously, because garlic at the end of the world is garlic at the end of the world, and it would be rude not to.

It’s distracting, the kissing, he definitely means to ask more questions, but also Kravitz is so handsome, and so… there. It’s been a long time. Taako pushes the jacket off Kravitz’s shoulders, it lands, loudly, but means it’s much more comfortable this time when Kravitz pushes his chest against Taako’s. It’s only natural that Taako slides his arm to Kravitz’s back, pulling him closer. The noise Kravitz makes when he does it tells Taako he’s just as desperate for this, for connection, for the press of bodies, for hot breath and moaning in a context unrelated to someone who’s recently dead and trying to bite your face off.

Taako drops his hand lower… “Kravitz, what the fuck?” Taako steps back, holding the stake tucked into his back pocket.

Kravitz sighs, heavily. “If I tell you, can we keep doing that?” He gestures between them in what Taako assumes is supposed to be an approximation of the heavy petting he’d very much like to get back to.

Taako raises an eyebrow.

“It’s not weird!” Kravitz protests too much.

“We’ve talked about this. Remember? You’re making it sound weird again.”

Kravitz squinches his face up, then shrugs. “I’m a vampire hunter.”

“What?” Taako doesn’t even know where to start with this one. Usually he’s got words, he’s full of them, they’re happening without checking in with him first, but he’s bereft, devoid, left wanting. In multiple ways. Is being unhinged a deal breaker for him? Taako’s unhinged. At least the guy’s prepared, dedicated to his imaginary craft.

“So…I told you…” Kravitz’s face is inches from his again.

Taako’s tempted. Sorely tempted. But he should probably definitely ask at least two more questions so Lup doesn’t shout at him later.

He places his hand firmly on Kravitz’s chest and definitely doesn’t cop a feel in the process. “You’re a vampire hunter?” That’s one. Nearly back to hot-boy-make-out-session followed by maybe-moving-things-to-the-shower-if-it-goes-well time.

“Yes.”

“And you think vampires are real?” Taako asks as gently as possible.

Kravitz steps back this time. “Hang on. Wait. We’re in a zombie apocalypse!”

“Vampires aren’t zombies.” Taako says with confidence, there’s not too much he knows about zombies short of the whole ‘they don’t get back up if you harpoon them in the head’ thing, but that’s one of the other facts he’s got.

“Obviously not.” Kravitz says, like Taako’s stating the obvious.

There’s a moment of intense eye contact. Kravitz nods as if what he’s just said was in some way conclusive, point proving, debate winning.

“Exactly.” Taako says. Because yeah, zombies aren’t vampires. “Wrong kind of apocalypse.”

“I didn’t think it was a vampire apocalypse.” Kravitz looks indignant as if Taako’s being ridiculous here. “I’m familiar enough with biting to know what’s gone wrong here.” He gestures expansively to the whole of everything.

“Sure…” Taako’s lost again.

“I was a vampire hunter before the zombies happened.” Kravitz says, as if that’s the same as Taako’s Underwater Fun-gineer role. Taako’s clearly still looking at him blankly because he adds. “You can’t believe in zombies and not vampires! I bet you thought biters weren’t real before this too.” Kravitz had a point, a good one. Fine, Taako can believe all kinds of things for him.

“Did that… pay well?” There. Okay, maybe now he believes in vampires because a handsome man said they were real, but he asked three questions, three! Lup definitely can’t shout at him.

Kravitz levels him with a confused look. “I had a day job, Taako. It’s just that I also do this… did this. They’ve fucked off since, well…”

There’s a long pause while Taako processes. “So, just to clarify, you’re… you’re a vampire hunter without any vampires in a zombie apocalypse?” Taako tries really hard to keep his voice straight, he does. He’s unsuccessful. Wildly unsuccessful judging by the look on Kravitz’s face. It’s positively stony.

Taako tries desperately to choke the laughter back. “Just… one more time.” His voice is thicker than normal, but he thinks he just about manages to play it off as regular. “One more.” He adds.

“No.” Kravitz’s bottom lip does something dangerously close to pouting. Taako wants to pull it between his teeth, but he should probably ease off anything biting related right now.

“Go on.” Taako bats his eyelashes, he may as well go for broke.

Kravitz’s nose twitches. “Fine, fine! I’m a vampire hunter in a zombie apocalypse and all the vampires fucked off.” He says huffily.

Taako’s mouth quivers as he presses his lips together, but he can’t stop the snort that escapes. That’s it, there’s no hope, he’s howling, tears streaming down his face, doubled over and wheezing. “S… Sorry.” He gasps out. “I… Fuck. No… no vampires… zombies… wrong… wrong thing.”

“I guess…” Kravitz says slowly. “I guess when you think about it that way…” He lets out a small chuckle. “... it’s… it’s pretty funny.” And then Kravitz is laughing too and they’re leaning against each other, propping each other up as the ridiculousness washes over them. It’s stupid. It’s perfect. Taako’s going to keep him, he can definitely stay.

The laughter subsides, eventually. One of them stops and then they set each other off laughing again over and over again. Taako wants to pin the memory of it to his wall so he can look at it whenever he wants.

“Were there many, you know, before?” Taako’s curious. Why can’t vampires exist?

“Yes. Yes there were.” Kravitz’s face is stony again.

“But less when you…” Taako mimes staking Kravitz through the heart dramatically.

“Yes… Yes. Less when I…” Kravitz grabs Taako by the thighs, pins him to the wall, and pretends to drive a stake into him. 

Taako’s not unwrapping his legs from Kravitz’s waist any time soon. “Do it this way often?” He looks down at Kravitz and smiles as coyly as he can manage, which he’s assuming isn’t very.

Kravitz noses Taako’s chin. “Not really.” He presses a line of kisses across his jaw. “I was just showing off.”

“Speaking of showing.” Taako says, drawing his hands over Kravitz’s biceps, strong, good, very good. “I believe I was supposed to be checking you out.”

Kravitz looks puzzled for a second before he catches on. “Of course. Yes. Very important health and safety process. I’ll have to put you down.”

“I’ll live. Probably.” Taako sighs. Then decides he’s at least entitled to some aerial kisses while he’s up here. “Actually, wait no, hang on.” 

It’s good, it’s very good. It takes a while before Kravitz starts getting wobbly and Taako starts worrying about them collapsing into a pile of horny limbs because there’s no easy way to explain those injuries. He taps Kravitz’s back. “Okay. C’mon. Inspection time. I’ll warn you, I’m very thorough.”

Kravitz groans, and lets him down. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Taako helps him out of the rest of his shirt, stops to give him some more kisses when another bulb of garlic rolls out. He helps to shuffle all the stakes onto the jacket so they stop rolling around the floor. He helps kiss Kravitz’s collar bones when they look lonely.

“Taako.” Kravitz hesitates, hands on the button of his fly.

“Uh huh?” Taako doesn’t even pretend to look him in the eye, surely they’re past that point now.

“I was thinking…” 

“Dangerous thing to do.” Taako lifts his eyes from Kravitz’s stomach and tries to focus on something that isn’t thinking about running his hands over it, grazing his nails through the hair there, kissing his way downwards.

“I have another safety concern.” He says, so earnestly.

“Uh huh?”

“How do I know you haven’t been bitten?” The corner of Kravitz’s mouth lifts as his eyebrows raise in challenge.

“You make a compelling point, handsome, I guess you’d better inspect me too.” Taako’s top is off before he’s finished talking.

[makkuromurasaki]

Continuing with my silly BG3 free cam shenanigans: the hottest kiss in Faerûn

he loses his head, she steps into lava

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Whenever i read yugioh fanfic and it used all this random clunky japanese I found that pretty cringe and sometimes I would think to myself "i bet native japanese speakers who read these think its cringe and sounds really bad too" and while i obviously cant speak for them, as a native german speaker whos now read english tanz fanfics where they insert random clunky german sometimes, I actually find it delightful please keep doing it

[slusheeduck]

In the Weeds

It’s another sunny day in Baldur’s Gate, and Astarion’s been left behind.

“It’s not that I don’t want you there,” Falerin had said as he gathered up Wyll, Karlach, and Gale. “It’s just…”

“We need someone who’s not going to bleed the place dry,” Gale added, then paused. “No pun intended.”

Well, let them go on their do-good mission. There was still a whole city out there, and while it had been wise to stay put at camp out in the wilderness, Astarion knew every hidden alley and sneaky getaway in the city—he’d even wager he knew the area better than the Absolute. And during the day, there was no threat at all from Cazador or his siblings. So he took his chance to go out and properly explore the city he knew in the sunlight.

Which was a great idea, in theory, except that the city Astarion knew was dingy alleyways and hidden alcoves and the stinking sewers. He couldn’t even pop in for a drink alone, because he’d been banned from most places thanks to his…sparkling wit. So he ended up contenting himself with walking through the streets. It was odd, seeing the shops open and people milling about. No one even spared him a second glance—nothing unusual about an elf wandering around in the middle of the day, after all.

He had no real destination in mind, but his feet found a familiar path outside of his usual haunts. He wound through the city, the hustle and bustle slowly giving way to quieter streets and homes. He looked about, hardly even aware of where he was going, until he stepped off of cobbled stone and onto soft dirt.

Astarion blinked, looking around. Ah. The graveyard. Well, it was as good a place as any to while away the time—what happened, he wondered, if you died but already had a grave? If he didn’t make it, maybe they’d just pop him back in.

Or, well, no, they wouldn’t. Because if it got out he was a vampire, there likely wouldn’t be much of him left to bury.

He puffed out a breath, looking up overhead. Well, may as well go pay his respects. He started to wander over to a familiar tombstone, then stopped abruptly at what he saw there.

An elf woman—middle-aged or thereabouts—knelt in front of a grave, humming to herself as she cleared the weeds from it. Her long white hair was piled up on top of her head, with a few errant curls escaping to curl around her ears. She wore a lovely deep blue dress, with thin black leather gloves for her work with the weeds. Astarion watched her, silent, brows furrowed.

It took a few minutes, but she finally sat back on her heels with a satisfied little breath. Shit, he should cast invisibility before she turned around. Just as he raised his hands, she stood up and turned around. She let out a startled little “oh!”, hand going to her mouth. Her eyes were a deep blue, nearly violet, and they locked on his for a moment before glancing at his hands.

“Oh, I don’t want any trouble!” she said quickly.

Astarion glanced at his hands, then let them drop. “Nor do I. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” He cleared his throat, making a face at how…soft his voice had been. The woman waved her hand.

“Oh, you weren’t disturbing me at all,” she assured. “Just doing some tending.”

“I’m…very sorry for your loss.”

“That's very sweet, but you don’t need to be.” The woman sighed, glancing back at the grave over her shoulder. “Brother of mine. Honestly, I don’t remember him all that well. He died when I was very young. Sad business, from what I do remember; not even a hundred.” She looked back at him and shrugged. “But our parents used to tend his grave nearly every day, so I figure I’d keep it up now that they’re out of the city.”

Something tight settled in Astarion’s throat, and it wouldn’t budge even with the hardest swallow he could manage. “I…I see. That’s very kind of you, Miss…?”

“Sadiira,” the woman said, breezy as anything. “And it’s Mrs., actually, but I quite enjoy the flattery.”

“Sadiira,” Astarion repeated. He glanced at the ground, then looked back up at her. “You know, it’s the funniest thing, you remind me of someone. Now—and stop me, of course, if this is too forward—but…what was your child name?”

Sadiira laughed, head tilting back and laugh lines etched in her cheeks. “I promise you didn’t know me back then. You’re a young thing, I can tell. Not even fifty yet, I’d guess.”

“A little older, but I get that a lot.”

“Mm. It’s those shadows around your eyes; you look like a student who’s skipped out on sleep.” Sadiira shook her head, curls fluttering. “Oh, where are my manners—I didn’t catch your name.”

“Gale,” Astarion said without hesitation.

“Ah, see, now that is a good child name,” Sadiira said. “I’ll tell you what I was stuck with—Ariadne. As a child!” She shook her head, clicking her tongue, then looked up, fair brows drawing together as she looked over Astarion’s face. “Oh my, are you all right?”

“What?” Astarion's voice broke, and he quickly shook his head. “Oh. Yes. Absolutely fine. Just…” He gestured around them with a weak little laugh. “You know how it is. The…energy of this sort of place.”

“Don’t I know it? This is the longest I’ve spent here, I think. Not that I’m not enjoying chatting with you, Gale.” She gave a little laugh. “Still. Shouldn’t be surprising, having a child name like Ariadne.” She gestured to the tombstone behind her. “My poor brother was called Astarion, of all things. Dramatic sorts, us Ancuníns.”

“Really? I never would have guessed.”

They both laughed at that. It was…nice. Well, as nice as laughing in a graveyard could be. After a moment, Sadiira sighed, looking up.

“Well, I ought to be getting back home. My husband gets worried with all this…Absolute nonsense going on, and my daughter, gods. She’s twenty-five, and you know what kids are like at that age.”

Astarion smirks. “Does she have a too-long name, too? Or did that tradition die with you?”

“Oh, it very much died with me.” Sadiira smiled a bit, face softening. “Her name’s Aster. Short enough to be manageable, but…I thought it would be nice. Like a bit of my brother could still be around.” She looked up at him, narrowing her eyes a bit. “Hm. Maybe we have met. You must be familiar if I’m dumping all of this on you.”

Astarion gave her a thin smile, fighting the ever-increasing lump in his throat. “Just…one of those faces. It happens a lot.” He dipped his head. “Anyway, far be it from me to keep you.” His smile stayed up as she gave him a nod in return, though it faded as she started to walk away. “A—Sadiira?”

She paused and turned, eyebrows raising. “Yes?”

Astarion looked over her for a moment, then swallowed. “Take care of yourself. Please.”

To his surprise, Sadiira let out a trilling laugh, hand going over her heart. She sent him a grin. “Darling,” she said, “I’ve been doing that for two centuries and almost a quarter more. I’ll be just fine, I promise.” She gave him a final smile of her own, lines etching themselves back into her cheeks. “You take care of yourself, too, Gale. Get some rest—I think you need it.”

With that she turned, and Astarion let her go. He leaned against one of the tombstones, letting out a soft, shaky breath. There were…a lot of emotions left to unpack, and there wasn’t nearly enough time to do so. He shut his eyes, fighting the sting that threatened them, then pushed himself to stand up straight and make his way out of the graveyard.

~~

“…and then, Karlach decides to throw a barrel that is on fire right at him!”

“No one got hurt! Well, except the guys we were fighting, but that’s the point!”

A laugh went around the table at Elfsong, where the party—returned from their adventure for the day—were recounting all that had happened. Falerin laughed along with the rest, but he glanced up at Astarion, who was oddly…contemplative.

“You’re not mad that we didn’t bring you, right?” he asked quietly.

The vampire, who had been tracing his finger around the edge of his wine glass, suddenly glanced up. “Hm? Oh, no, just thinking.”

Falerin nearly made a joke, but opted against it. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“Gods, no, nothing like that.” His finger paused, and he looked up at Fal. His face was serious, and he started to speak, but finally he scoffed as he picked up his glass. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ve gotten all the tragic backstory I have.” He took a drink, then looked back to the others. “Did Gale manage to trip on some grease? I swear he manages it every time, even when there’s no grease for miles.”

“It was one time, thank you,” Gale said. “And I’ll not hear another word considering your missed trap almost blew up the lot of us down in Grymforge.”

Astarion clicked his tongue, leaning against Falerin. “You miss one trap after literal dozens and everyone complains…”

Falerin watched him, then shrugged and took a drink of his cider. Well, whatever it was seemed to have dissipated. Really couldn’t have been anything too important.

Casual Banter masterpost

[writing-hat]

a red cold heart for your blue warm eyes

or the bruise vampire / powerless AU fic that'll be slightly toxic yaoi we'll see how it all goes

Jay used to be a soldier. After failing to escape the doomed village they were supposed to protect, Echo and him get captured by the very vampires their people are at war against. The human catches the eyes of one of their Four Lords, who demands his knowledge on his combat techniques for something he could never bring himself to refuse. Now? He's stuck in the vampires' castle, and forced to cooperate with the one guy that made it so he would be stuck here in the first place place: Cole, the General of the East Army. He really had no luck.

/!\ THE FIC IS RATED MATURE /!\ because vampires and death and all that stuff I mean come on there'll be lots lots of blood

and it is a slow burn kinda thing? idk we'll see!

ALWAYS CHECK IF YOU'RE OKAY WITH THE TAGS!!! THANK YOU!

[sharonisthebettercarter]

So does this make Deadpool, Van Helsing (monster slayer and Beter's ex-fiance)?????

GODDAMN! slow down lmao i can't keep up! last one for tonight<3

but LMAOOOOOOOOOOO. yeah, that def is an option! i do love me some dp--wait... hm... yes and no... yes because yes but maybe no cause the story UGH<3

if i'm throwin' deadpool in, he's shit as his job/a huge softie who is selective with the monsters he hunts and sleeps with a ton of them but also he ships it ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

cause it's dp and he's mah spirit animal~<3

[social-cocoon]

People will really say ascended Astarion isn't abusive with their whole chest huh

[skenpiel]

and here is the line that made everybody mischaracterize kanaya until the end of time as some sort of Fancy Regal Lady who Drinks Tea and not a Complete And Utter Maniac. she literally talks like papyrus like wtf