Helpless in Her Hold
//The Drow twins' proposition of Tav surfaces some insecurities for Astaron. Hurt/Comfort, angst but happy ending. CW: Unhealthy relationship to sex/sexuality, identity issues. Not edited... Song Rec: Supposed to Be (Acoustic) By Icon for Hire//
Astarion x f!Tav, Canonish, Act 3
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Astarion watched, helpless, with his dead heart in his throat as the drow twins propositioned Tav. His Tav. He want to growl it and glower until no one else in this pleasure den deigned to offer their services.
Why did she have to be such a lure for elven whores?
Astarion leaned back against the wall, hardly resisting the urge to fold his arms and sulk in plain view of the whole party. He wasn’t a child whose toy was being played with—and yet, the brightness of her eyes and the laugh on her lips had him wanting to pout and whinge like a toddler.
“I appreciate the offer, I do, but I must decline.” Tav shook her head. Though personally the vampire thought she could be a little more rude in her rejection.
Because the damn twins were were still giving her looks that were far too inviting. Not that Tav saw, because her eyes had landed back on him, and Astarion was just thanking his lucky stars he’d perfected the mask he wore.
“Is that your partner?” The female drow asked, her smile making disgust creep up his spine—it was easy to see where this was going. “We’d be happy to have you both.”
“My dear, I’m afraid you’d be the one parting with your gold.” A high laugh slipped from Astarion’s lips. “And, I do doubt you could afford me.”
He saw the twins’ mirrored expressions of bewilderment turn to glee for only a flash before Tav was excusing herself from them. Swiftly stepping over to him with—that damnable look on her face.
Oh he knew those eyes, so drawn with her concern and on the verge of pity. Tav looked like that when she was about to do something so dreadfully kind it might make him wretch.
And he could not be the broken toy when she was being offered two shiny new ones.
“Astarion—” Tav began in that tone, and he had to preempt her.
“I know pet, tempting as it is, I simply must decline.”
“Yeah?” Tav utterly confounded him with that lifted smile. “That’s good.”
“Good..?” Astarion asked, his mind trying to race ahead. Find the traps and disarm them before they sprung.
She’d preached to him over and over again about his choice, and what he wanted and how that mattered to her for some reason.
Only for him to make a decision about the drow for her.
Shit.
It was a test. It had to be. She respected his choices, now he was expected to reciprocate.
“Ah I see.” Astarion inclined his head to her, a salacious smile on his lips. “You haven’t had much attention lately…it has been a while for us.”
Tav blinked, and then those bright eyes were on his, searching him out. The pale elf would cling to the façade by the skin of his fangs, if it meant he could keep her.
She turned, and Astarion prepared for the feeling of a stake through his heart.
“Well, if my partner isn’t interested, neither am I.” Tav brushed off the twins’ advances with as much grace as one could muster. Until they finally had the tact to move to other potential patrons.
She was already leading the way out of Sharess’ Caress before Astarion had recovered from his shock.
The cold night air near Baulder’s Gate finally woke him.
“You could have gone with them, you know.” He blurted, wondering why in the Hells she hadn’t. It wasn’t like he was satiating her hungers.
Astarion felt Tav shrug her shoulder through their linked hands. “I’m not interested in any little tryst if it’s at your expense.”
She said it so simple, so easy, as if it were hardly worth a second thought.
Astarion’s mind was still reeling, but he put on a smirk. “Stop being so kind to me; it almost makes me want to return the favor.”
As if it were a debt he could ever repay her.
…
Hours later, Tav lay in her darkened room, sleep evading her. The soft click of a lock being picked made her tense, hand instinctively grasping the dagger beneath her pillow. But the familiar silhouette slipping through the door made her relax.
"Hello, my darling," Astarion purred as he approached, her darkvision letting her see how his ruby eyes glinted. “Haven’t you gotten accustom to me creeping into your bed?”
"It has been a moment since you came looking for a cuddle?" Tav teased softly, tilting her head. His appearance at this hour had her wondering. The dark of night and hushed voices already strummed tension in the air between them.
“I do seek…something akin to that.”
Astarion perched on the edge of the bed, long fingers skimming up her bare arm and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Despite all her thoughts trying to tame her reaction, for now.
"I merely wished to express my gratitude, my sweet. For standing by me, even knowing what I am. What I've done. And what I haven’t."
“What you…haven’t?” Her half-awake mind might be jumping to conclusions, surely. Twining their fingers together, Tav brought his hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. "You never have to thank me for that."
Astarion's eyes shimmered suspiciously in the darkness before he blinked it away, his trademark smirk back in place. "I want to thank you," he purred, “Won’t you, let me?”
He moved then, pressing her back into the soft pillow she’d been having trouble sleeping on after so many nights spent in the dirt.
Though the familiar weight of him was already making the bed more appealing. Now, just like every time he fed from her, he cradled her skull and tilted her head back so tenderly. It was comforting, it was an intimate moment she was happy to share with him.
His eyes didn’t meet hers as he ducked his head. Usually he lingered, to make sure Tav was alright before his fangs pierced her flesh. So why did she feel lips caressing her neck?
Her fingers slid into his hair, trying to get a grip on herself as much as she was on his curls.
“Star, what’s going on?”
The chuckle he gave was at the base of her neck, lips and tongue teasing at her collarbones in a way that made her skin tingle.
“Returning the favor.” He purred. “You deserve it.”
Tav swallowed under his clever mouth, trying to hear what her mind was screaming at her before it could be drowned out by the sweet words and sweeter lips.
Suddenly his face was swimming before hers, still not letting her catch his eye as he cupped her cheek. “So very few people get what they deserve—you, as always, should be the exception.”
Astation, with his ethereal beauty and perfect words, had her stunned. It wasn’t until he lowered his mouth to hers that her mind caught up.
“I don’t deserve anything you don’t wish to give.” Tav managed against his mouth, giving a gentle tug to his hair to get him to pull back.
“My sweet…I very much wish to give.”
That silver tongue slipped right past her protesting lips.
…
The elf was certain he had her when those hands slipped from his hair to cup his face in her palms. Her thumbs stroked over his high cheekbones.
“Astarion, wait.” Tav breathed.
He stilled, pulling back, fear flickering over his features as he was sure he’d somehow hurt her—when he saw it.
That damnable look in her eyes.
“Wait—we’ve done nothing but the waiting.” He snapped.
And Tav, damn her, gave a softer look still. “I’m willing to wait longer, as long as it takes.”
Astarion's posture stiffened, his back becoming an iron rod as he sat upright. "Is that how you see me then?" He couldn't keep the defensive edge from seeping into his voice. Drawing it like a blade when he felt his throat was bared.
"All shattered on the inside? Some broken doll you no longer play with? Am I to be put on a shelf and never touched again?"
“Astarion, you aren’t—” She moved to touch him, but he rose abruptly, evading her reach.
He didn’t even know why he did it. But the way her hand fell back to the bed, dejected, hurt him just as the pain he saw on her face.
"I know you aren’t fragile," Tav said with conviction, eyes pleading for him to understand.
“Then what? Am I some charity case to you? Is that what you get off on?”
Astarion hated it the moment he said it. But, the fangs showed whenever vulnerability crept up on him.
She stayed silent, and he had to fill that void before it consumed him.
“I’m not some delicate boy with a broken heart. I have wants. And I can see that you have them too. So, why not?”
“Is that what you want?” Tav smothered his outrage like a blanket over a campfire.
His shoulders sagged under the weight of his uncertainty.
“I don’t know.” The words barely escaped his lips before they broke apart into whispers of self-doubt. “Gods, I don’t know how to do any of this.” A frustrated hand raked through his white curls.
He wanted her. He wanted to see her looks of want and he wanted to be the one to fulfill her desires.
He wanted to keep her.
She sat up, legs hanging off the bed. And his eyes were drawn to the bare skin of her thighs exposed by her loose sleep clothes.
“Astarion, what do you want?”
He stared down at her, red eyes probing for a hint of the right answer. What did she want him to say? He would say it.
But Tav held without giving an inch.
“Why do you always ask the most difficult things?”
"I’m sorry." she whispered back.
"Don’t. I want—no, I need to know that I am still wanted by you." The confession fell from his lips like a plea. "You who’ve given me so much and seen broken I am. You who’ve made me wonder if I do indeed have any pieces left of my own soul…” The words were on his tongue, but his throat constricted around baring his neck one last time. “Do you still want me?”
“I will always want you.” Tav’s reply came without hesitation or doubt.
Either he had gotten to sloppy to see it—or there was simply no guile in her.
Tav reached out, her hand finding his where he stood frozen. He could feel the tension coursing through him—an all too familiar vulnerability that he constantly tried to suppress.
“Then let me give you something in return.” He dropped to his knees before her, desperation etched into every feature. .“Please, Tav.”
She lifted the hand she held, cupping it in both of hers, before she pressed his touch against her chest. And he had a moment to hope, that maybe, she would just let him give a fraction of what she’d given him.
“You’ve given me everything already, my heart.”
A scornful snort burst from him, everything in him prepared to banish her romanticized drivel with a dose of reality.
“This,” Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt over his chest. “Past the petty armor you wear. Beneath the pretty face and clever tongue,” She yanked him close before he could quip back.“That is what you give me; parts of you that you’ve given to no one else.”
When he looked at her then, he had no idea what she might see, even if he could use a mirror.
“Your kindness, your hurt, your wants. The truth of you. That’s what I want.”
“I can’t give—“ Astarion couldn’t get this damn silver tongue of his around a his words. “I don’t know what that is…who I am.”
“Then we can both find out. That’s all I ask of you.”
He swallowed hard as her words left him parched and speechless. The notion that he might still have something to offer, a piece of himself that was untouched.
Astarion found himself staring at her, wonder and disbelief battling for dominance in his gaze.
A gentleness tugged at Tav's lips. And for a fleeting moment, Astarion dared to believe that perhaps he could have this.
He moved up, but only to wrap his arms around her. To engulf her in his embrace. Just as that night when she wrapped her arms around him, and first showed him that there was affection, there was closeness, without the expectation of more.
Astarion would be just fine if he was helpless in her arms.
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just read the new hatchling skin rules and am having Some Type Of Initial Emotional Reaction and am now writing down said Initial Emotional Reaction uncensored as i currently Strongly Feel A Type Of Way and Require Venting. i cannot word this more politely. i do not have the capability to render this rage into polite borderline corporate-speak for the sake of the damn rules that act like anything short of apologizing for being alive to make up for having even the most constructive understanding friendly criticism or even personal mild non-critical dislike of something like a color or a breed is tantamount to personal targeted hatemail. i cannot wait until i cool into calm bitterness later because if i think about this enough to write about it again i will just go right back to being furious and the fact that everyone ielse who's complaining is focusing entirely on the lolita fashion thing and not on in my opinion the far more significant and offensive part is pissing me off even more. extremely angry unedited ranting ahead
fr having it's own "female presenting nipples" moment right now, not that i'm particularly surprised, they've been a prime example of "conservative protestantism in a lefty-language veneer" for a long while now.
"don't adultify" is such a fucking vague and easily selectively interpreted rule, not to mention insulting for a number of reasons,
but putting that part aside the whole idea of "nothing that suggests that the dragon is an adult in a young body" is. look, i'm not exactly fond of the "adult who looks like an anime schoolgirl" trope myself, but i fail to see how in the absolute FUCK having it be canon in-universe that it is both possible and legal for someone to be forced to stay as a child permanently, is somehow LESS creepy than just saying eternal youth dragons have dwarfism. also, fuck you to anyone with dwarfism apparently i guess?
and "no zombie baby dragons" is just stupid. even fucking minecraft has baby zombies, and microsoft has steadily butchered that game into one of the most t for toddler babymode things on earth this side of cocomelon.
and "no scars on hatchlings" so fuck you to any kids with scars too apparently, even though that's way more common than anyone seems to realize. you hear that, kids? if you're under 18 and have scars your very existence is too obscene for public view. 13+ year olds will be irreparably traumatized if they have to know you exist at all! fuck you disabled kids and fuck you amputee kids and fuck you any kids that have suffered anything ever at all for not appearing as a perfect unspoiled image of conservative christian child-doll innocent purity. flight rising staff says your body and existence is inherently too nsfw to even be acknowledged as existing much less visually seen. everyone knows REAL children don't get damaged at all, and if they do then they're too horrifying and defective at their job of Being A Child Properly to exist in public spaces! how dare ugly things that might make us uncomfortable with their existence by contradicting out ideals about aesthetic moral purity be allowed where good respectable normal people can see them!
i don't say any of these words lightly, and i'm very much not the type to go around calling people whatever-ists and in fact find that kind of thing extremely annoying, useless, reductive, and more or less only ever see it used as a blunt cudgel to shame people into line so they don't question you, and have historically found it especially annoying when people pull out the accusations-of-ism card on fr staff over things that are far more likely just completely understandable (if dubiously competent) issues of certain things simply not occurring to someone on code and design level due to lack of sufficient exposure to the idea, and have always been of the belief of giving them the benefit of doubt (even if often that just means i think they either most likely made an understandable mistake that i would likely also make, or, when i'm feeling less kind, that they're simply not particularly competent rather than actively hostile) so understand how much it means coming from me when i say- flight rising staff, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, fuck you, you ableist batch of pricks, so far up your own asses with your performative veneer of vaguely lefty-flavored language that you don't realize how fundamentally extremely conservative all of your actual beliefs underlying them are. for every update you make that i approve of there's another that does twice as much damage as the good update fixed (and i'm starting to wonder if you maybe know what you're doing with that too-always batching the fucked up shit on the tail end of some big thing you know people will be excited about, always hiding these controversial moderation changes under something shiny and new, to the point that now i dread any new good update that genuinely seems a step in the right direction and/or is something we've been wanting for awhile because i'm just constantly expecting the knife hidden behind the footnotes afterwards, the fucking "ban tiktok/gay marriage/strip rights from this population/end net neutrality/whatever/ect" clause stapled onto the end of a bill about something entirely unrelated functionally holding a change people want hostage until they allow the fucked up part through. i've been here most of the site's 10+ years and i've seen this sort of thing happen far, far too often.) and every year the shit that gets pulled on the management and moderation end of things makes me more and more almost glad i've never had an income to spend on this, and the fact that apparently the moderation behind every single other petsite in existence is somehow significantly worse fucking astounds me. the only reason i stay around here is because It's Free Dragon Pictures, because it's literally the only actually good petsite game i've ever played and not gotten sick of within a week or so (and really the only good low-energy game i've ever played in general, which i'm increasingly convinced is in spite of it's management), and because somehow, despite all of this shit, i still genuinely love the game itself, because unfortunately by some accident of creation it seems they apparently stumbled purely by coincidence into making an actually good game idea no one else quite has. and after all the fuckery that gets constantly pulled, i refuse to believe the game being good is anything other than, much like many of the of the incidents i think they're unfairly accused of malice and -ism over, an accident.
Disabled children too obscene to fucking exist. fuck you. good to know half the child population's existence requires a trigger warning to even be allowed to be acknowledged as existing to you. good to know if the heart surgery i had when i was 11 had left any visible external scars i would be considered inherently too obscene to exist to you. good to know if the overhealed and benignly potentially cancerous scar on my back from whatever actually happened when i was a toddler (i don't trust either of my parents to ever be accurate about something like that) was in a more visible spot you would demand i have a trigger warning to post selfies online. good to know if any of the shit that's broken me emotionally left visible physical marks you would think it was good and right for me to be forcibly hidden from good normal people's view and considered too taboo for even the slightest discussion without hiding it with makeup and lies, just so i don't make good, lucky, undamaged, normal people uncomfortable, god fucking forbid. should we hide the gays too, since they also make so many people uncomfy? i imagine it won't be long before disabled adults are too obscene for your polite societytm sensibilities too. i've had the feeling for a long time that amputee and disabled skins were living on borrowed time with your rules, kept technically not explicitly dissalowed where all other forms of injury and ""body horror"" are banned simply out of fear of the backlash it would cause to include them, and well. the doomsday clock on that one just got a little bit closer to midnight, huh?
the only reason i wasn't a (physically, visibly, externally) scarred kid was pure sheer fucking luck. the only reason you weren't a physically scarred kid too is pure sheer fucking luck. the only reason you're not some type of disfigured or ugly or amputated or visibly injured or whatnot is pure sheer fucking luck. you're lucky. nothing more. if having to contend with that fact-the fact of how easily it could have gone a different way and there is nothing they would be able to do about it- makes good normal tm people uncomfortable, then well, get the fuck used to it, other people children very much fucking included don't exist to cater to the aesthetic sensibilities of a lucky perfect few. the only thing that separates you from the damaged ones you find too obscene is a bad day and an unlucky hand. and one day, even if you were lucky enough to escape being damaged when you were young, you and i will both be just like them too.
more festival skin winners slots is good. elemental swords sound fun.
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