The Vampire In The Tavern

I have poor blood circulation and on cold nights look like a stereotypical vampire. Could you write a humorous, SFW fic of someone seeing Tav's bite marks and pale complexion and telling Astarion to keep his bloodsucking friend on a tight leash? (Tav can be GN or female, either work for me).

Thank you so much for requesting ilysm! So I realized that I’ve never written anyone in a fit of laughter before (possibly for a reason LOL) but here’s my best attempt 🧡

The Vampire in the Tavern

sfw Astarion x you story!

I Have Poor Blood Circulation And On Cold Nights Look Like A Stereotypical Vampire. Could You Write A

Astarion is angry.

He’d finally managed to get you to himself, a night at last without the others vying for your attention, and some peasant woman keeps looking over at you from the bar, dark eyes sliding up your body in a way that he knows all too well.

It’s possessive. It’s proprietary. And it’s pissing him off. 

It had started as just mildly irritating, a glance here and there. But she’d been at it for at least an hour now, and not only does that wretch have no right to eye up his partner, but the implication that she finds you more appealing than she does him is vexing. Extremely vexing. And it doesn’t seem to matter how many times Astarion touches you. How many times his fingers lightly graze the line of your jaw or brush against your hand, that godsforsaken woman won’t stop staring.

And you’ve not noticed, of course. For a formidable warrior and your party’s fearless leader, your lack of awareness of your surroundings is astounding, especially where Astarion is concerned. It’s a trait that exasperates and exhilarates him in equal measure. He could do without it on the battlefield, but in a social setting, he delights in it. The way that just catching your eye can cause words to die on your lips, whatever conversation you’d been in briefly forgotten with just a little glance from him. He slips his hand a little higher up your thigh just to prove it to himself, and when your breath catches in response, he smiles.

If only that bloody woman would stop staring, this had the beginnings of a very promising night indeed.

You clear your throat, cheeks flushed and put both hands on the table, pushing yourself to your feet. Astarion frowns but you shoot him an apologetic smile that’s meant to reassure and it does, sinking through his skin and warming his unbeating heart. It’s adorable.

“I’ll be right back. Nature calls.” You say, by way of explanation, and though you’re trying to keep your voice steady, he can hear your desire, thick and sweet as it sticks in your throat. Delicious.

“I’ll be waiting, my sweet.” He lets the words fall from his lips in a way that’s sultry and intentional, staring up at you from beneath dark eyelashes, and you actually shiver. Astarion grins, delighted with himself, as you flush and turn away. His eyes dart back to the woman, and his grin dies on his lips, mood immediately souring again as her beady little eyes fix on you as you make your way to the bathroom.

The absolute fucking audacity.

You see the cords in her throat working as she swallows, biting her lip, and the she does something even more audacious than simply looking at you. As soon as the latrine door swings shut behind you, she rises to her feet and starts to walk over to the table.

Astarion glares up at her, not bothering to hide his irritation, as she comes to a halt at the edge of the booth. She looks uneasy, calloused fingers pulling at the threads of her road worn shirt, and Astarion swears that if she so much as asks for your name he’s going to rip her throat out where she stands, witnesses be damned.

She hovers for a moment, not speaking, and that serves to only annoy him more.

“Yes?” his voice is tight and cold, and she flinches at the harshness. Good.

“I-I’m sorry to interrupt you sir, but…” She trails off into silence and he grinds his teeth.

“Yes, well how sorry can you truly be, given that you have interrupted me.” He snaps and Astarion frowns as he realises that she’s actually shivering. What in the nine hells. He knows that you’re good looking, but this is a bit much. “Come on then, spit it out. I haven’t got all night.”

“I… I’m sorry, but I couldn’t just – I couldn’t in good conscience sit by.” She says and he raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his drink. A strange way to approach the topic of wanting to snatch his date from him, but at least it was a start. “Sir, you’re in grave danger.”

He splutters, spitting wine over the table in a most undignified way as she stares back at him, wide eyed and fearful.

“I’m sorry, what?” He manages, when he stops choking long enough to speak. His voice is too loud, and the people at the next table look over, but it’s like he’s lost control of his faculties. This is not how this conversation was meant to go.

“It’s true, sir, and there’s not much time. You must leave, now.”

“And might I ask why?” he asks, incredulously, and then immediately recoils in disgust as the woman shoots a fearful glance in the direction of the latrines and slips into the booth beside him.

“That… thing that you’re with.” She whispers, and he has to fight the physical urge to push her away as she grabs his hand between hers. “It’s not a person. It’s a vampire.”

His mouth drops open, but he doesn’t respond. He can’t. The ridiculousness of this situation has actually rendered him speechless. She wasn’t staring at because she fancied you, she was staring because, because-

An uncontrollable feeling rises in his chest.

“You’re not serious.” He gasps, and his voice doesn’t even sound like him.

“Please sir, I’ve seen their kind before and it’s unmistakable. The pallor of the skin, the coldness of the touch.” She’s actually shaking now and it’s too much. He can smell the fear on her, the dampness of her palms as they press against his, the pounding of her blood as it courses through her veins. “They stalk these taverns looking for people to drain dry in alleyways, and that one has its sights set on you, I know it. You have to leave, now!”

He tries not to, he really does.

But he can’t help it.

He fucking cackles in her face.

“Fnnff.” He gasps, grabbing his hand away and covering his mouth, to try and stop the uncontrollable passage of the hysteria that’s flooding from his lips. “Excuse – snnf- e-excuse me.”

“This ain’t no laughing matter, that’s a vampire, in there, I’m sure of it.” The woman cries, wringing her hands, and she looks so earnest that he simply can’t.

“Hah!” He chokes, barely able to draw breath before the next giggle explodes out of him and the woman, for her part, looks appalled.

“I mean it, sir, you’re in danger.” She says, the first hint of annoyance seeping into her voice, and that just sets him off again. He crumples over on the table, hands digging into the wood so hard it buckles beneath his fingers. He almost feels sorry for every time he’s every used Tasha’s hideous laughter on someone, because this is bloody awful. His stomach hurts, tears are leaking from his eyes, but he still can’t stop. Of all the fucking accusations.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the door to the latrines swing open and you step back into the tavern. He turns to get a good look at you. To see the fearsome night stalker in the flesh, the unholy fiend that has this poor woman so terrified, and when he meets your eyes the expression in them is equal parts bemused and concerned and he fucking wheezes.

You, a vampire.

The woman spots you too, and she stumbles to her feet eyes wide and bright with fear. Astarion throws his head back and lets out a guffaw of laughter so loud and embarrassing that it’s almost enough to sober him, but unfortunately, it’s made you, the object of this woman’s abject terror, jump.

He can’t cope.

“Is everything okay?” Your voice is amused, but a little concerned and Astarion can barely nod as he clutches his stomach. He sees the woman’s eyes slide to your throat and the marks of his bite shine accusatorily back at her in the tavern light.

“Vampire.” She breathes, pointing at you, almost falling over herself as she backs away from them and Astarion collapses onto his side, tears streaming down his face as the woman shoots him one final, terrified look and then turns on her heels and flees into the night.

You stare after her, thoroughly confused now and Astarion is barely able to contain himself enough to move over to let you sit down.

“What in the hells was that about?” You ask, as you slip into the recently vacated spot and Astarion swallows down a giggle, barely able to breathe as he grins at you. It would appear his laughter is somewhat infectious, as you let out a little laugh of your own and touch his face with a bemused frown. And it’s only then that Astarion realizes just how much attention his little display has brought to you both. The people of the tavern are all staring at them and it’s not a friendly look. No doubt they heard the word ‘vampire’ and that, finally, is sobering enough for him to get himself under some semblance of self-control.

“That is a story not for here, my blood sucking friend.” He gasps, stifling another giggle as the look on your face is almost enough to set him off again. He nudges you gently out of the booth and grabs your hand, pulling you towards the tavern doors. “But don’t worry, if I manage to survive the journey in your company, I’ll tell you all about it when we get back to camp.”

More Posts from Evelynica and Others

1 year ago

Strength

Rise Ramblings #565

While watching the show, I realized that we don’t really get to see the boys’ true strength very often. Yes, we see their Ninpo at work, especially towards the end of the series, but I believe that outside of their Ninpo there is so much more to these boys than meets the eye.  

When thinking about raw strength, it’s easy to say something like “Yeah, Raph is the strongest.” And for good reason...

He is the one that works out the most.

Strength
Strength

His build is the largest and the most intimidating.

Strength

Often times we see him picking up, carrying, or tossing his brothers around, no problem.

Strength
Strength
Strength
Strength
Strength
Strength

And that’s why this big guy gives the best hugs.

Strength
Strength

But the main reason why he's seen as the strongest is because he’s the one generally seen picking up the most impossibly heavy objects.

Strength

Although, he does have his limits.

Strength

Yes, Raph is the strongest, but that does not negate the strength of the rest of the bros.

The physical abilities of the other three are nothing to sneeze at, especially since they were all originally created to be weapons. (See “What Was Meant To Be” for more on that subject.)

Take Mikey for instance.

Of all of the boys, you wouldn’t think of Mikey as particularly strong, but here he is shoulder pressing one of his brothers for fun.

Strength

And flinging the boy in plum.

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What about Leo? Sure, we never really see him exert himself, especially when it comes to weightlifting or exercise, but I can’t help but notice how much he tends to carry his little brother.

Strength

Furthermore, Leo doesn't just carry Mikey, but throws him around as well.

Strength

But I believe the one that low key shows off his strength the most is Purple.

(It might have something to do with his overall lack of restraint, but I digress.)

He easily carries his brother when he needs to.

Strength

And more impressively, he throws Mikey like nobody’s business using his bow staff and his own brawn.

Strength

Speaking of his staff, if this is true:

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Then what do we make of this instance?

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Yes, the staff was already semi-broken, but does he go on to completely demolish the titanium staff in frustration with his bare hands? (Kudos to @theaphaeon for pointing this out!)

You be the judge.

Nonetheless, for me, what really proves Donatello’s strength are these scenes:

Strength

Donnie doesn’t just carry out this feat once, but twice!

Strength

Not only does Donnie hold up the combined weight of ALL of his brothers, but he does it via one leg. For a normal person, if all of that weight was put on one leg they would be severely injured. But for Donnie, this is just a silly mode of travel with his beloved bros. Meanwhile, his jet pack is struggling under the combined weight of all four turtles...

All-in-all, I just wanted to really highlight the turtles' physical strength and remind myself that strength is not just a Raphie thing, but something that stems across all of the turtle teens.

Do you guys have any more examples of the boys being the powerful weapons they were created to be without using their Hamato Ninpo?

All comments and reblogs are welcome! 💜

7 months ago
Here Come's The Goat:D
Here Come's The Goat:D

Here come's the Goat:D

(Also I totally forgot to post this)


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1 year ago

I such simp

Il Capitano

il capitano

1 year ago
Playing With Fire ~ I’ve Discovered That Sans Playing With Grillby’s Flames Is My New Favorite Thing!
Playing With Fire ~ I’ve Discovered That Sans Playing With Grillby’s Flames Is My New Favorite Thing!
Playing With Fire ~ I’ve Discovered That Sans Playing With Grillby’s Flames Is My New Favorite Thing!
Playing With Fire ~ I’ve Discovered That Sans Playing With Grillby’s Flames Is My New Favorite Thing!

Playing with Fire ~ I’ve discovered that Sans playing with Grillby’s flames is my new favorite thing! It started with Sans joking about Grillby’s bed head, and then spiraled into all this

I was also messing with Procreate and wanted to try coloring with the gouache tool :D


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1 year ago

Yet another fic that took WAY TOO LONG to finish. I hope it turned out well, but I am incapable of mustering the attention span to proofread any of my writing so,,, we once again die like men in Leshy's cabin.

Anyway, I am once again announcing my love for Leshy. My beloved- old man. Beautiful.

Also shout out to both @kakusu-shipping and @your-stoat-stands-unopposed (I hope you guys don't mind my tagging you, lemme know if you do please!!) for being the inspiration for this one. I love how both of you write Leshy and I,, he deserves to be loved, okay?? I wanted to contribute to the 'making soup for the skrunkly' vibes.

Anyway!! Here ya go!!

New Slang (Leshy x GN!Reader)

In which you share a meal with the Scrybe of Beasts.

At this point, you had a bit of a sixth sense when it came to Leshy. You had known him long enough by now to be well aware of what he needed to survive, and to know just what he needed to thrive on top of that.

Annoyingly however, Leshy himself did not seem to be aware of these facts.

For example, Leshy did not necessarily need to eat. It certainly helped, but it was not a necessity for him. What he needed was sunlight and fresh air, just like a plant. This was something Leshy tended to forget, much to your ever present concern. He spent so much of his time in the dark that it felt a wonder he hadn’t gotten seriously ill by now. You imagined the things he did eat helped with that, but it wasn’t as good as some good old fashioned time in the sun.

And as far as eating went- while he did not need to, it was one of the habits that helped him feel his best. Frustratingly, the man only ever seemed to eat raw meat. Rather bloody raw meat, at that. You would admit, you weren’t exactly sure what a Scrybe’s dietary requirements were, but you imagined that only consuming piles of raw meat of varying sizes could not be the healthiest thing for him.

And that’s where you came in- more specifically, your plan for today.

It had been a long time since you had first arrived in Leshy’s forest realm, longer than you could truly recount. You had come as a challenger, then- vying to replace him out of all the Four and to finally amass some amount of power in this world. That aspiration had not lasted very long, though- it had ended the moment you sat at Leshy’s table and played your first game with him.

Not that you had lost, no! You had actually managed to beat him fairly handily.

No, what had happened was that he had smiled.

He had smiled, rather sweetly at that, and had gently congratulated you on the good plays you had apparently made. He praised you, and expressed his gratitude for having finally met a worthy match.

And you just… didn’t have the heart to keep going after that.

So instead, you decided to settle down in his woods. You made a little home for yourself, surrounded by trees and next to the river. You could hear the waterfalls at night, along with the rustling of trees and the faint song of the wildlife. Bushes of berries grew around the walls of your tiny cottage, and you had started a tiny garden out of vegetables and fruits you had managed to forage across his lands. You were finally at peace- and you owed all of that to Leshy.

Which was perhaps one of the reasons why you were so stubborn to make sure that the man would take some actual care of himself every once in a while.

It was late morning now as you approached his cabin, a wicker basket slung over your right arm and your left hand resting on the colorful quilt that rested atop the contents. It was blessedly cool, a pleasant moisture in the air hinting at a drizzle you may be getting later in the day. You smiled, your feet crunching against dirt and undergrowth as you walked the familiar path to his door. You did not even bother to knock anymore, you knew that he did not mind you showing up unannounced, instead shouldering open the door and setting your basket down on the table next to it. You scanned the room, your eyes almost glancing over Leshy’s looming form hunched over his table. His tail gently swayed back and forth, the tip occasionally twitching and thrashing- a sign that he was deep in thought. You glanced around the room proper, taking note of the very cold hearth and the exceedingly melted candles. He had obviously been up all night, likely working on a new encounter or something. And as admirable as that work ethic was, you could not help the worried sigh that escaped you.

You quietly closed the door behind you, moving towards the Scrybe and calling his name in a gentle voice. He did not seem to notice you until you placed a hand on his shoulder, his eyes coming back into focus and his head lifting from its bent position. He blinked a few times, readjusting to his surroundings before he looked down at you. You smiled as he took a second to process your presence, squeezing his arm as a smile of his own graced his features.

“Morning, Leshy,” you said, moving away from his side to examine the objects littering his table’s surface, “How long have you been up?”

He hesitated for a moment, his brows furrowing and his clawed fingers tapping against one another, “I am not sure. If it is morning already, then…”

You sighed, crossing your arms and leaning your hip against the table, “You’ve been up all night, haven’t you?”

He at least had the decency to look sheepish as he nodded.

You rolled your eyes, the gesture not lacking fondness and moved to thread your hand within his. He looked at you, a tad owlishly, cocking his head to one side and allowing you to playfully tug his arm.

“Well, come on then!” You said, pulling him up from his seat and towards the door, “It’s a lovely day, and I won’t abide you sitting alone in the dark for another minute.”

“But-“

“No buts!” You snapped, grabbing your basket from its resting place and once again shouldering the door open, “You are coming outside with me, and you are going to like it! Do you understand me, young man?”

That got a chuckle out of him, a deep, velvety sound that you could never get enough of. You smiled to yourself, leading him down the beaten path and towards the spot that you had picked out just for today.

It had hit noon when you both arrived at your destination, golden sunlight streaming through the trees and flickering upon the ground like candlelight. The clearing was painted a perfect shade of green, the sound of rustling leaves and distant birdsong adding a sweet warmth to the surroundings. In the very center, overgrown with moss and vines, was a toppled tree- long overtaken by the wilderness and blending in rather well with the dense undergrowth of the area. You had thought this place rather beautiful when you had first seen it, all idealistic and golden like a painting of old. You had picked it specifically for today, deciding that this would be the perfect location for your impromptu date with the Scrybe. You smiled up at him, watching Leshy’s wonderstruck expression with a warm sort of softness. His gaze swept across the landscape, eventually settling back on you when you gave his arm a gentle tug.

“Come on,” came your soft voice, Leshy finding himself unable to do anything but to follow you to the overgrown log. He sat besides you, finding that his chest clenched and his heart stuttered when you finally removed your tiny hand from his own. It took quite a bit of effort not to simply grab it back and force you to hold his hand for the rest of the day, and he was rather impressed with his self restraint- all things considered.

You weren’t quite paying attention to Leshy’s lovestruck expression as you unfolded your colorful quilt, laying it across the grass and beginning to lay out the feast you had carefully prepared for today. Fresh bread wrapped in embroidered cloth, blackberry jam, little bowls of blueberries and raspberries, venison you had bought from the Trapper, seasoned to your liking with sage and rosemary. There was honey wine, a project you had spent nearly the whole year on, infused with elderflower and berry. You set all this out with a careful hand, stealing a glance at Leshy’s surprised face and trying hard to hide your smug smile. You had planned this day for a whole week by now, and you hoped that a good meal would serve your beloved Leshy well.

You met his eyes with an adoring smile, placing a wooden plate before him and filling an earthen mug with your honey wine, sliding it next to the plate, “Eat as much as you want!”

He did not reply for a long moment, looking over the spread with an expression that was almost… teary. He shifted slightly, an uncertain hand reaching out until it hovered just above your own. He seemed to be lost completely in thought, his eyes darting between you, the food, your hand, and then back to your face. You smiled to yourself, shaking your head fondly and making the decision for him. You leaned up up and up, taking a moment to appreciate just how tall the Scrybe was even when sitting, and cupped his cheek in your hand. He snapped out of his reverie, looking rather like a frightened fawn, his eyes wide and his lips parting ever so slightly in his surprise.

It was during times like these when you remembered just how strangely cute Leshy could be.

You gently pulled his head towards your own, pressing your forehead against his and closing your eyes for a moment. It was only when you felt him finally relax in your hand that you opened them again, studying his contented expression and the fluttering of his eyelashes against his cheeks. You trailed a languid path with your thumbs, reveling in the feeling of moss and brush tickling your skin. You smiled, you did that a lot around Leshy, exhaling a breathy laugh and finally- finally doing the very thing you had wanted to do since meeting him.

You kissed him, gentle as rain and as sweet as your honey wine, your eyes closing and his form all but melting against you. Neither of you knew how long the kiss lasted, and neither of you particularly cared. It was the here and now that mattered, the dappled sunlight dancing across your tangled limbs like starlight on a crystalline lake.

Leshy did not let go of you, even after you finally managed to pull away from each other. His side pressed against yours and his long tail wrapped around your waist. He ate and drank, mumbling thanks and sweet nothings in a language that sounded like music. And when the meal was finished, when the wine was drunk and the sun had begun to paint the sky a soft and luminescent pink, he laid himself down on your lap, reveling in the feeling of your deft fingers combining through his wild hair, gently picking dead and dying foliage from the mass.

If there was ever a moment in time he would want to immortalize, he thought, it would be now. Now, with his dearest and most beloved. Here, where he was loved and cared for in a way he had never experienced before.

And you? You were more than happy to continue to care for him. He was the sun in the sky, and you would happily pluck the stars for him, move mountains, turn the very moon in the sky into a ring befitting of his beauty.

But all that could wait. For now was for soft quiet. Now was for an old love blossoming at last. Now was for an ancient song’s swelling, joyous refrain.

Now was for you and Leshy, and you would not change that for the world.

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