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circusofthelastdays · 6 hours

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It's raining and my power just went off and I won't come back on 🙃

#well fuck #and my phone is about to die #its no even a storm ??#its just rain

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circusofthelastdays · 9 hours

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Fanfic writers are like crows. If you give them treats (comments) they will bring you shiny things (fanfic)

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circusofthelastdays · 11 hours

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i feel like we as a fandom sleep on the fact that a majority of bg3 is a bunch of city people and foreigners being thrown into an unfamiliar environment and having to live there/navigate it for like a month LMAO

long treks through rain, wind, heavy sun

biting bugs

baths in freezing cold creek water

boots getting stuck in the mud

someone waking up with a snake in their tent

failed attempts at learning to hunt or locate food and everyone getting hangry

accidentally eating poisonous plants

slipping/tripping/falling over various terrains

walking through spider webs

being sticky and sweaty from the humidity

aching backs and feet

taking a wrong turn and getting lost

scary animal noises in the middle of the night

everyone smelling like mildew, B.O, and dirt (a.k.a ten cans of BOUNCE THAT ASS)

i just feel like there’s some potential here

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circusofthelastdays · 13 hours

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Astarion likes missionary sex. Likes being able to see his love’s face and the way their body reacts to his.

He loves being able to lace his fingers with theirs, and press their hands to the mattress. It grounds him just as much as the steady eye contact does. Doesn’t matter if he has to coax them into it, murmuring “eyes on me, darling” as he rolls his hips into theirs.

He loves the way he can hold them close to his chest as he comes with their thighs wrapped around him, completely engulfed in one another.

#astarion 🩸

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circusofthelastdays · 13 hours

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Ascended Astarion who refuses to take your virginity until you're officially declared his consort. He'll kiss you until you can't breathe, leaves bite marks all over your inner thighs, cups your breasts with his hands and rolls your nipples gently with his thumbs. He'll hold your legs apart at the ankles and grind into you, letting you feel how hard he is. No matter how you beg him to fuck you (even with just the tip, anything at all), no matter how you plead and pout and maybe, once or twice, cry for it, he always pulls away.

You deserve something more special than this for your first time, he says. You deserve the wedding, the feast (the food you can't eat and the wine you can't taste). The softest of marriage beds, the sweetest possible claiming. Oh, he wants you, but he wants to give you that luxury more.

And so you wait. You accept the proposal when it comes and show off the ring (golden, diamond-studded, jewels so large you can't begin to fathom the price) to anyone in the palace who crosses your path. Astarion's dressmaker comes to your rooms and fits you for a wedding gown that, when it's delivered, turns out to be less of a gown and more of a negligee, gauzy and light and so sheer that it's see through. When you ask Astarion about it, he only smiles.

The wedding comes sooner than you know and you process almost none of it. At the altar, Astarion looks at you as though he wants to eat you alive. When he kisses you, his tongue slides filthily into your mouth and you nearly bruise him with your grip at the shock of it. It takes nearly half an hour for the heat in your belly to die down. The reception is worse. As you sit at your table at the head of the hall, receiving well-wish after well-wish from a very long line of people you don't seem to recognize, Astarion subtly reaches under the table and places a hand on your thigh. When you stumble on a 'thank you' to the latest guest, he trails his fingers further up your leg, igniting a path of fire on your skin. You are wearing underwear, thank the gods, but you can feel the fabric growing wet between your thighs.

He strokes his thumb over your clit once, then pulls away. When you have the courage to look over at him, he presses the digit to his lower lip and licks it.

By the time he pulls you into the bedroom, you're more than ready to give yourself to him, your husband, your lord. He kisses you hard, clutches your face in his hands, bites your mouth so the blood flows freely between you, coppery and slick, just how he likes. He slams the door behind you and rips the sheer expensive tulle that drapes you to shreds. You look fucking gorgeous, he growls in your ear, all decorated for him, his wife. Oh, he'll give you what you want.

You expect him to slow down at least a little once he has you on your back on the bed, hands clutching nervously at the sheets. You want this, yes, but he had said it would be soft. He had said it would be sweet. And it's only your first time, you with no real idea what to do. You can't keep up with him like this.

Astarion crawls over you and kisses you deep, and it seems like he's good for his word. It's everything he promised, a flick of the switch performed so fast it's like he's reading your thoughts. You help him shed his suit and start to lay back down, but then he tells you to turn onto your stomach. It's easier this way for the first time, he says, and you have no reason not to believe him, so you turn.

When he positions himself between your outstretched legs and cups your cunt, you shudder. He laughs at you, lightly, calls you beautiful, lets his hands roam all over your body. So sweet and soft for him, everything he wanted in a bride. All his, forever. And you saved yourself for him like you knew all along he was waiting. He fits his hips to your ass, lets his cock, hard and smooth on your skin, drag. He's already gotten to claim your life. Your mind. It's a gift to take your body, too.

He thrusts into you without warning, without stretching you, without checking to see if you're wet. The choked sound you make is just as much from surprise from pain. He promised, you think. He promised.

Something tears inside you as he pulls back out, slowly, and you cry out, the pain forcing your body to at least try to fight back. He shushes you, grabs your wrists from behind and pins them on your lower back. He's sorry it hurts, he is, but you do look so very pretty like this, spread out beneath him, his to do what he likes with. Innocent. Fresh.

Just relax, and it'll feel better- he's very, very good at this. Calm down. It'll feel good soon.

His pounding continues, relentless, his cock sawing in and out of you like a blade, and as the tears start to spill down your temples onto the sheets you are truly afraid of him for the first time.

Forever, he whispers into your ear. The word reverberates in your mind, his voice louder and louder until it's all you can hear. The only voice you'll ever hear again. Forever mine.

#usually i wouldnt read smthn like this #im not into dubcon and dark content #im not an ascended Astarion fan #but this is well written and terrifying #genuinely #my stomach dropped reading this #fic recs 🔖#tw dubcon #tw dark content

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circusofthelastdays · 14 hours

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it’s because you’re always romancing that damn vampire

#yes and ?

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circusofthelastdays · 18 hours

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God, the intimacy of Astarion feeding from you.

Astarion drinking from your neck as he pulls your body closer to his in bed, his chest up against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist. It's a casual thing, now, his whispered can I? and your answering nod, as much a part of your bedtime routine as your bath or his curl care. You sigh as his fangs pierce your skin and his fingers flex against your stomach. His breath hitches when the taste of you hits his tongue, and that's familiar too, the physicality of it, the noises he makes low in his throat as he drinks, the way he grows warmer against you as your blood begins to flow through his veins. Nothing else makes you feel so heady, so intoxicated- so comforted.

Astarion drinking from your wrist when he’s starving for it and can’t wait to get you more comfortable. Pulling him into an alleyway one night on the way home from the Elfsong because you can see how badly he's craving in the way he can't keep his eyes off of the pulse point in your neck. He seizes your arm with both hands (can I? Yes-), bringing the soft skin on the inside of your wrist to his lips. He has just enough presence of mind to kiss the heel of your hand distractedly before he bites, fangs sliding through your skin and into the vein. The sound he makes can only be described as a growl, something feral and possessive (and you'll never tell him that it turns you on, since he would be insufferable about it- a promise to yourself that lasts exactly as long as the space between the moment and the next time you're tipsy and want him).

(NSFW Below!)

Astarion drinking from your inner thigh, one hand holding your leg steady and the other cupping your cunt. You groan, eyes shut in pleasure, as his thumb comes to rub your clit. The pain of the bite is barely pain this way- it collides with the pleasure in your belly and sends you almost out of your mind, overwhelmed with sensation and heat. He takes you all the way there, takes just enough from you to have you relaxed and pliant and soaring somewhere above your own body, plays you like an instrument with all the knowledge of you he's gathered over the months, the years. He knows when you're close, knows to crook his fingers inside you just so, knows the reaction he's going to get when he pulls away from your thigh for just a moment and looks up at you with dark eyes and tells you to come for him, he wants to see it, you fall apart so beautifully and it's all for him, isn't it, tell him how good he makes you feel and when you climax with his voice in your ear and the scent of blood on the air he has the audacity to laugh at how well he understands you, your body.

He's soft, after, softer than he'll ever be with anyone who isn't you. He licks you clean before he takes you to the bath, carrying you with the strength your lifeblood gives him. It's the least he can do for you, with everything you've given him: not just your body, but your trust, your closeness, and he will never stop being grateful.

#this is so good #im so down bad for astarion its not even funny #astarion 🩸#fic recs 🔖

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circusofthelastdays · 18 hours

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How do you think things would play out if insecure human Tav had feelings for Dammon, but she mistakenly thought he was hitting on Karlach all those times he helped her with her heart? With Tav being oblivious and mistakes that it’s because she is human and that Karlach is a tiefling that he has no interest in her, but in reality he does. How do you think Dammon would respond if there’s a little comment like: “I know it’s Karlach you were hoping to see.”

I'm not sure if I leaned too into the insecure descriptor in the prompt, especially after not doing any writing for so long, but I hope everyone's able to enjoy. I missed my main man so much <3

She isn't you

"I know it's Karlach you were hoping to see."

You can see the whites of Dammons as soon as the sentence leaves your mouth, shock washing over him. It's something you'd tiptoed around for months. The way Dammon looks at Karlach, how he gravitates towards her, how that kills you inside. No one could blame you for falling for the sweet blacksmith with his easy smile and firm confidence.

He'd spent these past months giving your companion the gift of touch back, laughing at her raunchy remarks and looking at her like she'd hung the moon and stars. Hours were spent in his forge fixing her heart, idle chatter between the three of you the only real entertainment. Hours of inadvertently third wheeling them all because of your own unrequited crush. Karlach was your friend though, and if they were happy then you weren't going to interfere.

His lips part slowly. Beautiful, chapped lips you so desperately want to kiss but know you never will. Soon, Dammon finds his voice again. He seems so genuinely confused, as if he can't understand where you got that idea.

"Why would I want Karlach when you're here?"

A long tail flicks behind him, nearly taking out a table leg. A concerned look covers the blacksmiths face as he leans in, hands spreading over his workbench. "Not that Karlach isn't lovely, she is, but I'd prefer to have you here." Dammon clarifies carefully.

It's your own turn to gawk now, looking at the teifling standing there in the firelight. You'd never expected this, to have him so quickly disagree with something you were so certain of. "But... Aren't you and Karlach..." You trail off, unsure of how to word things, picking at your nails.

"Aren't we... what? Seeing each other?" Dammon asks, rounding his work bench with a small chuckle, the wooden floor creaking under steady steps. "Is that assumption what's held you back?" His calloused hand takes yours, smoothing a thumb over your skin as the tiefling draws in your gaze. Blue eyes crinkle at the corners with a small grin, a teasing smile appearing on the blacksmiths face.

"Well, isn't it true?" You gape, gripping his hand. The new brazenness draws a full laugh from the tiefling, topped off with a shake of his head. It's a dumbfounding revelation, after months of near torture watching the two of them only to find out none of your assumptions were true. "Stop laughing, I'm being serious-" You insist, a small frown growing on your face.

Dammon calms himself, still grinning down at your pout. "I know, and I'm sorry." His voice is lower now, missing that teasing lilt you love so much. "There's nothing happening between Karlach and I, promise. I did ask her for some advice, though." He adds, gently squeezing the hand enveloped in his.

You cock your head, wondering whatever advice he could've gotten from Karlach. Something to do with Avernus or leaving the hells? Something tiefling related? The visible confusion almost makes Dammon laugh again, but he contains himself. Instead, a firm tail snakes it's way around your leg, winding around you with a firm pressure.

"I wanted to know how best to ask one of her friends out."

#fic recs 🔖

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circusofthelastdays · 18 hours

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[DAZED FROM BLOOD LOSS] hey not to kill the vibe completely but i think i am in love with you

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circusofthelastdays · 1 day

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