earth2bucky reblogged
love it when he looks a bit freaky ngl hehe
earth2bucky reblogged
who out thinking about the character
earth2bucky reblogged
earth2bucky reblogged
origins rated by how easily wyll could make them start saying yippee
astarion - 6/10. it would take a while, but i think he would do it sarcastically to make fun of wyll if he said it often enough. astarion will likely never yippee with the joyous abandon of a truly light heart, but i feel you could wring a semi-sincere one from him against his will
gale - 3/10. "but wait," i hear you say. "gale says silly shit all the time". correct. he says his own silly shit tho, not just any silly shit. hes a man with specific tastes, and quite frankly more of a "hurrah" sort
karlach - 10/10. she had likely yippeed several times before meeting wyll, and shes happier now more than ever. a playful woman who is actively hunting down ways to be happy is a perfect target for the yippee agenda
lae'zel - 9/10. wyll tells her its a triumphant exclamation (true) that many on faerun use as a battle cry (false). shes a curious woman and trying to be multicultural. her enemies are too busy choking on their own blood to say anything about how silly it is
shadowheart - 0/10. she is dignified and stubborn and the second she catches on to what wylls doing she makes one of her classic stank faces and resolves to never let him win. the stars will burn out before she gives wyll the satisfaction of a single yippee
(it goes without saying that wyll yippees every day of his life, but tbh i think he gets even more mileage out of a good huzzah)
earth2bucky reblogged
obsessed with this little housecat
earth2bucky reblogged
sorry, I'm busy looking for love in everything. yes it's gonna take all day.
earth2bucky reblogged
You need to draw and make art or else all the images will stay in your head and you'll get sick
David Shrigley
Julien Baker, Loss Protocol
earth2bucky reblogged
Mary Oliver, from "Dogfish" in New and Selected Poems
omg jaye hiiiii 💕 its' been so long girl! ur new blorbo is also the vampire dude (I only know him as my blorbo-in-law from @tripleyeeet
hiiii selena how r u omg!! can confirm a new cast of blorbos has brought me back to tumblr (for better or worse we shall find out)
earth2bucky reblogged
Blech
Karlach guesses she shouldn't be surprised when she's popping off to the river for a quick dip, and halfway into the woods, finds Fangs and their mighty leader snogging furiously.
In which Astarion gets his groove back... and is deeply obnoxious in the process. Based on the arse-grab in the Patch 5 kiss, that banter with Lae'zel about he and Tav barely being able to keep their hands off each other, and the fact that even if Halsin's not involved with them, he's noticed Astarion and Tav having sex again. Because they're clearly That Damn Couple.
Tav/Astarion, background Karlach/Wyll. 2.6k. SFW - some mild accidental voyeurism and mentions of Astarion's canon sexual trauma, but all the bedroom business is implied.
Something's different, after Lora and Astarion sneak out of camp to do... whatever they did. Karlach probably doesn't want to know. Honestly, she thinks it's got more to do with the fact that his old bastard of a master is dead. Finally being able to take a proper breath for the first time in two hundred years... or the dead-guy equivalent, anyway. Must be a hell of a feeling. Invigorating.
Sure, Astarion still has times when you reach out to touch him and he gets that face, the one that says he'd flinch but he's too well-trained. And sometimes he gets that haunted look in his eyes, the one that makes Karlach think of blood and fire and something getting shoved into her chest; she's only been able to see the edges of his nightmares, but she guesses for him they're probably torture and sex he doesn't want to have and being so. damn. hungry all the time. (Like being lonely, like wanting to be touched so much it aches, and suddenly being awash in a wealth of it. Wyll must've spent most of the journey since her engine got fixed up hugging her - and that's after they spent what felt like three days in her tent. For Astarion, she guesses that it's blood and not getting staked. Sudden scary kindness, all the same.)
But he doesn't snap anymore - not unless he thinks you're doing something really stupid. She offered him a fist and he actually bumped it the other day, while Wyll cackled in surprise (and then coughed when he realised he was doing it). Miracles never cease.
Lora says, “Because that’s not my type. I want you. The fucking is secondary.” He snaps, “It’s never secondary. It’s all there is. It’s all people want me for.” “Hm. I want you for your sewing, and the way you grin with all your fangs, and your shit taste in books.”
crying!!!!!!!!
earth2bucky reblogged
SO extremely messy but. theyre in the gay club bathroom
earth2bucky reblogged
earth2bucky reblogged
Anonymous asked:
sooo this is an angsty prompt but what if Cazador took the extra step to remove all the fangs from his spawns to make them that much more dependent on him to feed? After Astarion is tadpoled he has to use his knife to get as much blood as he can from animals, but he can't sneak a bite from people, so on bite night Tav might wake up to Astarion collapsing from hunger.
...if you can give this oneshot or snippet a happy or hopeful ending I would appreciate it because I made myself sad.
oh! heartbreaking. here is a little drabble, set on and after the first bite night:
he feasts upon you, and he knows that he is pathetic.
it is sickening. he is sickening. having to come and beg for your blood like a dog. oh, but worse than a mutt, isn't he? that scruffy creature which has made the camp its home can at least feed itself. he has to rely on your pity to keep his stomach full.
wretched. contemptible.
if you had not found him that night, on the dirt of the road after having been savaged by a boar he was trying to bring down, he would most certainly be dead. he thought that he could fell the beast, but he was far too weak; tusks at his soft flanks soon had him laid out on his back, gasping for a breath which he did not need to draw.
when you discovered him, following his feeble little cries, you gasped and gathered him into your arms, like a caregiver coddling a weak child. all he could do was mewl at you for blood. it was then you saw him for what he truly was: a meek and mutilated spawn, fangless and helpless. he remembers the soft stroke of your fingers as you pulled down his collar to see the bitemark that Cazador had left.
he'd never felt so loathsome as that night, hating himself for the excitement he felt when you opened your palm on your dagger in order to press it to his mouth, your blood strengthening him. he clutched you to him and sucked at you from the source, a sweet tang flowering on his tongue as he found himself again.
you hadn't laughed. you hadn't judged. instead, every night, you came to his tent and offered your body to him, in a way he never expected.
tonight he watches as you clean your blade, making sure it's free of dirt and grime, before carefully puncturing the soft plain of your skin. crimson begins to pool at the pinprick and you hold your arm out to him.
"all yours," you say with a sincere smile. he feels utterly lamentable as he scoots forward and latches on, desperately hungry. he has been ignoring the growing pit in his stomach for too long.
now it is time to feed.
you watch him as he goes, making sure he doesn't drain you too much, muttering lovely little words without even thinking about it. encouraging him to take what he needs from you.
he drinks down your kindness along with your blood.
he is pathetic, he thinks. but, as you reach out to swipe some hair from his face, he remembers that you don't seem to share that view.
aglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget @useless-contributions @beardedladyqueen @hopeful-n-sad
earth2bucky reblogged
Anonymous asked:
HI IT’S THE CHILLY ANON, first off thank you sm that fic/drabble was absolutely tasty, very delicious
secondly !! if requests are still open (I tried to scroll back on your page to double check) could I perhaps! Request another astarion x tav/reader that’s afraid of the dark ?
giving you big hugs and a glass of water ^^
notes: thank you anon I am slurping it down mwah xx if you like my work, please reblog!
words: 1.1k
rating: T
pairing: astarion x reader
He hates the Underdark.
More than anything because it reminds him of his life before, chained into the shadows without the possibility of being free in the sun, and he hates the idea of returning to that voluntarily. But the group insisted that it was the safest path to the Shadowlands - and gods know that sounds like a barrel of laughs, too - so here he is. Trudging.
The excursion itself was bad, with its exploding fungi and minotaurs charging from nowhere, but things got catastrophically worse when that damned Bulette had appeared. Astarion is never a fan of enemies he can’t keep an eye on at all times so that thing surfacing scared the un-life out of him, and when you called a retreat the damned group got carved into two halves: Shadowheart and Karlach headed one way, towards the wide open mushroom fields, and the two of you another - into the shadowed safety of a cave.
And then there was a bloody rockfall.
It closed you off from them, splitting the bloody party like fools. Both of you trapped in a tunnel, covered in dust and dirt and feeling incredibly stupid indeed.
Alone together.
Luckily Shadowheart had used a Sending spell to let you know they were attempting to find a way out, but it might take a while. Looks like they’ll have to source some explosives from somewhere in order to clear the debris from the cavemouth. With little else to do, you stayed put.
So here the two of you are, waiting for your rescue to be sprung with no real idea of a timeline. Astarion has been pacing, complaining as loudly as he can about the situation and listening to the echo of his own gripes, but you’ve been oddly… still. Sat against the rocky wall with a torch gripped so tightly in your hands that it’s changing the colour of your knuckles. The torch which, now he comes to think of it, you haven’t let go of since you climbed down that ridiculous ladder into this wretched place.