dancingbirdie

[dancingbirdie]

It's been a while but I'm back in town, babes. I was listening to Cherry Wine by Hozier and the line "I'm all but washed, In the tide of her breathing" had me in my feels. Hope you enjoy!

Warmer

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Astarion x gn! reader

Word Count: 947

Warnings: Suggested sexual content, blood drinking, cuddles and fluff

Summary: It's a cold autumn morning. Astarion is in love with you. Sleepy, cuddly, domestic bliss with a vampire lover.

Despite his keen eyesight, Astarion had to admit he had trouble finding you at first. Standing within the entrance of your shared tent, the pale light of morning revealed only a vaguely humanoid outline beneath the dozens of blankets and furs piled atop the ground. A quick glance might even convince an onlooker that it was merely a bunching of the materials, but he knew better. 

Dropping to a crouch, he carefully placed a hand on a curve in the blanket, the closest one he could reach. Your hip, he sensed. He knew its outline far too well by now. He knew how perfectly his palms could grip those hips, how seamlessly they fit within his hands. He smiled to himself, then traced farther up until he reached a dip in the covers – your waist. He paused, marveling at how gently your body rose and fell with the deep, relaxed breathing of someone so immersed in sleep. Were you dreaming? Was he with you in those dreams? 

It seemed autumn had crept upon your party, listless at first, but then with a vengeance over a span of a few nights. It made no difference to him, having been numb to the cold for two centuries now, but he knew it had to be a particularly crisp morning if you had burrowed this deep into the covers. Not even the top of your head could be found poking out. He huffed a laugh, imagining you curled beneath the blankets like some hibernating creature.

Part of him knew he ought not to join you. He was a cold thing. It would only thwart your efforts if he burrowed beneath the covers and pulled you against his chest like a child clutching their security blanket. Even in your dreamland, you were likely trying to escape the chill, not embrace it.

But it had been a difficult night, and Astarion knew the needy, selfish part of him would win out in the end. He had tried to meditate earlier in the evening, but it had proved fruitless. His mind had kept wandering down memory lane, calling up the history he hated to relive. 

Frustrated and angry with himself, he eventually gave up on rest. He left camp to hunt for an animal or two that could sate his thirst for the next few days. He loved drinking from you, much more than perhaps he cared to admit, but he also knew how it weakened you. 

In the beginning of your relationship, it used not to bother him. But not now. Now, he adored you too much to take more than a mouthful or so, and even then, it was only during the height of passion. 

He had returned to your tent at dawn after draining some deer in the nearby meadow. It was enough blood to satisfy his craving, but he knew it wasn’t enough to warm his body. If he snuck in beside you now, you would likely wake from the chill of his skin. It was a risk he would take. He was a greedy bastard, he knew. But the self-criticism wasn’t harsh enough to stop him. 

You barely stirred when he lifted the covers. There you were, the prize he had somehow won. Curled on your side in the fetal position, generating a warmth so sweet even he could sense it. It took a great deal of self-control not to scoop you up in his arms and squeeze you to him like a boa constrictor. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge of how utterly brutish you could be when woken up so abruptly. 

“You’re cold,” he heard your murmured complaint as he curled himself ever so gently around your body. 

“Apologies, darling,” he returned, a smile in his voice as he took note of the slight furrow in your brow. 

You didn’t reply. After a beat of silence, he bowed his head so that his forehead touched the back of your neck. He breathed in your sleepy scent, content.

“ – should drink,” you muttered after a while, but he hadn’t caught the whole phrase.

“Pardon?” he asked, raising his head up again to peer at you.

“Drink,” you repeated, arching your neck slightly. As if he needed the visual cue. “You’ll get warm.”

He swallowed thickly. He shouldn’t, tempting as it was. He whispered as much to you. 

“I want you to,” you mumbled, shuffling further back into the curve of his embrace. “Then let’s sleep.” 

You couldn’t see the way he gazed at you, what with your eyes still closed in a rest-addled haze. Couldn’t see the way he opened his mouth to argue against this idea again before pausing, deciding if his selfishness should win out for the second time in a row. But when you arched your neck again in gentle urging, any resistance Astarion may have had dissipated. 

Reverently, so, so reverently, he lowered his lips to your neck. Kissing you there was like kissing hallowed ground. He could sense your lifeblood flowing beneath the thin skin. It was something almost holy. 

He could feel the heat spreading through him at the first wave of blood that met his tongue. He barely choked back a moan when he felt you sigh sleepily at his gentle feeding, tucking even closer into him. 

“See,” you cooed, reaching back to thread a hand through his hair as he continued to take from you. “Warmer already.” 

Astarion had accepted a long time ago that he would never reach heaven’s pearly gates. He didn’t mind. Really. His own heaven was here, beneath a dozen layers of fur and blankets, clutching the one being he held most dear.

[dancingbirdie]

If I did new Astarion one-shots would that be something the people still want ?

Asking as someone who hasn’t written one in over a year but is popping back on 👀

[dancingbirdie]

Not me creating a mood board for my current Alternate Universe Jilco writing project. 🫢

Check out the first part here.

[dancingbirdie]

Oops another mood board for Ch. 2 of my jilco fic…

Read it here!

Not me creating a mood board for my current Alternate Universe Jilco writing project. 🫢

Check out the first part here.

[dancingbirdie]

Not me creating a mood board for my current Alternate Universe Jilco writing project. 🫢

Check out the first part here.

[dancingbirdie]

Welp. I finished this. Not sure if I’ll continue, sort of depends on the reaction it receives.

Full story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63426802

Hi. I’m alive. I found a new hyperfixation. It’s Jilco. Behold the beginnings of my new fanfic project - an Arcane AU where Jinx and Silco meet for the first time.

JINX IS NOT A MINOR IN MY FIC SO PLEASE CALM DOWN ANONS. SHES AN ADULT COLLEGE-AGE LADY.

Don’t like it then don’t read.

***

The wig was itchy. And the dress constricting.

Her hyper-obsessive mind couldn’t seem to stop reminding her of those two facts.

Another fact: heels weren’t exactly conducive to making a quick getaway if one was needed tonight.

Jinx sighed into the gilded rim of her martini glass. She scratched it with a perfectly manicured nail. Yep, it was real gold. She could spot the difference.These Pilties were fancy fancy, she thought to herself.

Jinx. She was Jinx tonight, not Powder.

Powder didn’t go on these heist runs. No, Powder was one of the good little trencher transplants at Piltover Academy. A lab rat meant to test whether undercity folk were capable of higher intellectual pursuits or if Viktor had simply been a fortuitous anomaly.

Powder and her infamous electric blue pigtails were something of marvel at the college. She’d quickly risen to the top of the class in physics and biomechanics. She was the darling of her professors. She was, as they liked to murmur in reverent, hushed tones, perfect.

By contrast, Jinx was an unknown here. A wraith with raven’s wing hair that glided in and among the throngs of Piltover’s finest, all gathered in the name of charity under a canopied ceiling lit by hundreds of firelights trapped in little glass orbs.

Jinx had been eyeing them periodically tonight, feeling sorry they were just as trapped as she was.

Tonight’s heist was simple, in theory. Her job was to swipe a laboratory key from Councilor Talis once he was deep enough in his cups not to notice. Then she’d place it on a server’s clearing tray, carried either by Mylo or Claggor. She could see both in her periphery now, standing still as statues while they accepted the dirtied glasses from the bigwigs and blowhards who barely registered their existence.

From there, she was off the hook. Vi would take care of the rest on the inside. Jinx could pickpocket or gorge herself on the rich food and drink to her heart’s content. Maybe she would do both, she thought. Powder’s good behavior streak had certainly earned Jinx some playtime.

She smirked to herself as she lifted her glass to empty it. Yes, tonight would definitely be a good night to play. A terrace balcony full of Pilties whose pockets were full of wealth and whose minds would be addled by alcohol. It would almost be too easy.

“Could I trouble you for a dance?” a voice, sharp and cunning as a sabre, called from behind her.

Jinx quickly scanned the area to the left and right of her. There was no one near her at the balcony railing. The stranger could only be referring to her, then.

Jinx peered over her shoulder as she slowly turned to face the gentleman. His timbre matched his person brilliantly. The man was all sharp, pointed angles fashioned together in a tall, lithe body. Though his face was still relatively young, the smattering of steel-colored hair near his temples suggested he was perhaps middle-aged.

But it was his left eye and the harsh scarring that ran through it, from temple to upper lip, that captured Jinx’s attention the most.

[dancingbirdie]

Hi. I’m alive. I found a new hyperfixation. It’s Jilco. Behold the beginnings of my new fanfic project - an Arcane AU where Jinx and Silco meet for the first time.

JINX IS NOT A MINOR IN MY FIC SO PLEASE CALM DOWN ANONS. SHES AN ADULT COLLEGE-AGE LADY.

Don’t like it then don’t read.

***

The wig was itchy. And the dress constricting.

Her hyper-obsessive mind couldn’t seem to stop reminding her of those two facts.

Another fact: heels weren’t exactly conducive to making a quick getaway if one was needed tonight.

Jinx sighed into the gilded rim of her martini glass. She scratched it with a perfectly manicured nail. Yep, it was real gold. She could spot the difference.These Pilties were fancy fancy, she thought to herself.

Jinx. She was Jinx tonight, not Powder.

Powder didn’t go on these heist runs. No, Powder was one of the good little trencher transplants at Piltover Academy. A lab rat meant to test whether undercity folk were capable of higher intellectual pursuits or if Viktor had simply been a fortuitous anomaly.

Powder and her infamous electric blue pigtails were something of marvel at the college. She’d quickly risen to the top of the class in physics and biomechanics. She was the darling of her professors. She was, as they liked to murmur in reverent, hushed tones, perfect.

By contrast, Jinx was an unknown here. A wraith with raven’s wing hair that glided in and among the throngs of Piltover’s finest, all gathered in the name of charity under a canopied ceiling lit by hundreds of firelights trapped in little glass orbs.

Jinx had been eyeing them periodically tonight, feeling sorry they were just as trapped as she was.

Tonight’s heist was simple, in theory. Her job was to swipe a laboratory key from Councilor Talis once he was deep enough in his cups not to notice. Then she’d place it on a server’s clearing tray, carried either by Mylo or Claggor. She could see both in her periphery now, standing still as statues while they accepted the dirtied glasses from the bigwigs and blowhards who barely registered their existence.

From there, she was off the hook. Vi would take care of the rest on the inside. Jinx could pickpocket or gorge herself on the rich food and drink to her heart’s content. Maybe she would do both, she thought. Powder’s good behavior streak had certainly earned Jinx some playtime.

She smirked to herself as she lifted her glass to empty it. Yes, tonight would definitely be a good night to play. A terrace balcony full of Pilties whose pockets were full of wealth and whose minds would be addled by alcohol. It would almost be too easy.

“Could I trouble you for a dance?” a voice, sharp and cunning as a sabre, called from behind her.

Jinx quickly scanned the area to the left and right of her. There was no one near her at the balcony railing. The stranger could only be referring to her, then.

Jinx peered over her shoulder as she slowly turned to face the gentleman. His timbre matched his person brilliantly. The man was all sharp, pointed angles fashioned together in a tall, lithe body. Though his face was still relatively young, the smattering of steel-colored hair near his temples suggested he was perhaps middle-aged.

But it was his left eye and the harsh scarring that ran through it, from temple to upper lip, that captured Jinx’s attention the most.

[dancingbirdie]

[dancingbirdie]

Sebastian 🐸

[dancingbirdie]

Clerics have a lot of ways of healing. ☀️

[dancingbirdie]

FINALLY FINISHED THIS!! my own interpretation and additions to Sebastian's room in sdv ! Tried to keep anything in the image from the year 2010 or predated. i think theres a few give and takes but i really like the "older brother" early 2000s grunge aesthetic on another level and i thought who better fits it than him. I put a lot of references to stuff i personally like as well ^_^

[dancingbirdie]

decided that my favorite book trope is when the female love interest is in mortal peril and the male main character goes absolutely fucking feral to protect her

[dancingbirdie]

Xaden yelling "WELL THE FUCK AWARE" at Violet is honestly so funny to me. Like that is PEAK exasperated husband energy.

[dancingbirdie]

Dropping the latest Sketch-a-Wish voted on by my lovely Patreons for July! Fourth Wing (by @rebeccayarros) making a quick reappearance as we reset our author list for Sketch-a-Wish! This time featuring a sparring scene between Violet and Xaden as the former snatches daggers away from the latter. This was such an odd perspective angle to tackle, I was chastising Past-Rosie for considering this a good idea throughout the entire process. But we got to the end! This piece is licensed and available as a print preorder in my shop via my bio link. ✨🧡

[dancingbirdie]

Here’s some fourth wing art! #fourthwing

[dancingbirdie]

the aftermath of the previous silly oh to be a duckling held so delicately

[dancingbirdie]

My Stardew Valley event posters! Created these over the span of like a year and a bit. Did the Spirit's Eve one in November 2022, and finished off with the Flower Dance one earlier in Feb this year.

If you're interested, you can get prints of these over on Redbubble!