Title: Behind Pained Eyes and Sharp Smiles
Author: Angelina
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3
Rating: K-11
Paring: Astarion/Angelina
Summary: A little manipulation never hurt anyone, right?
A/N: Kyllä, rakastan kursiivia ja ajatusviivoja. Ja Astarionia. Ja Baldur's Gatea. Ja hetkellisesti myös kirjoittamista. Ja ennen kaikkea kommentteja <3
Teksti menee pääpiirteittäin Baldur's Gate 3:n juonta mukaillen ja saattaa siis sisältää spoilereita pelistä. Jos fandom ei oo tuttu ja luet silti (♥), niin arvostaisin myös huomioita tekstin ymmärrettävyydestä/seurattavuudesta!
Yritän varmaan ensimmäistä kertaa ikinä kirjoittaa jotain hieman pidempää ilman varsinaista dialogia, mutta katsotaan kestänkö loppuun asti.
Juonen kannalta tällä ei juurikaan ole merkitystä, mutta tämän tarinan Angie on classiltaan rogue, kuten Astarionkin (love for daggers <3) ja rodultaan puolihaltia.
Haasteet: Spurttiraapale VII ja Parita itsesi fiktiiviselle hahmolle VI
BEHIND PAINED EYES AND SHARP SMILES
That night was just like countless others.
He was standing at the border of Baldur’s Gate, fantasizing.
About escaping.
About dying.
About
anything that would change the constant nightmare that was his life.
But he knew that fleeing was futile. His master would always find him, no matter where he ran. He had tried before, of course, and paid the price every single time. Sometimes it was starvation, other times it was whipping. On most occasions it was isolation and torture combined.
He had never been a religious man when he was alive but during his darkest days as a vampire, he had even prayed.
For someone to brutally murder his master.
For someone to save him from this constant hell.
When Astarion finally took a deep breath and turned back to the city, he had no idea that this was the night when his prayers would finally be answered.
When he woke up after the nautiloid crash, his whole body ached.
His pod was broken, the alien ship burning somewhere in the distance and he was alone in the middle of nowhere with a tadpole implanted in his brain.
WonderfulBut ultimately it was better than being in Baldur's Gate where he would've been handing his latest
conquest to Cazador.
The thought made him sick in numerous ways.
After he got used to the pain, another thought hit him like a punch to the gut.
He was standing outside.
In broad daylight.
And his skin wasn't burning. His eyes didn’t try to pop out from his head.
Astarion turned his face up to the sun, letting its rays cover his whole face—and the feeling was
glorious. He felt like laughing.
He felt like crying.
It was like his dead heart could actually start beating again.
He felt
alive.
His acting skills were as good as ever when he claimed to need help with killing yet another intellect devourer.
The cleric half-elf stayed behind, clearly not interested in helping him, but the other one — two beautiful daggers hanging from her hips — stepped forward, glaring at the bushes Astarion was pointing at.
It didn’t take much to grab her, put a dagger at her throat, and demand answers. He’d seen both women in the nautiloid, running past his pod, while he was trapped and unable to escape.
The woman didn’t give up easily, though. When Astarion’s focus slipped for a second, she heatbutted him, rolling away and taking out her weapons.
SmoothNot so much on his side, though.
He decided to change tactics, put his dagger away, and held up his hands. He introduced himself — conveniently forgetting the vampire detail — and flashed his most charming smile, usually reserved for targets.
It didn’t immediately have the desired effect since the woman kept staring at him, clearly suspicious, yet told him her name.
AngelinaFinding out from a stranger that the tadpole would quickly turn him into a mindflayer shouldn’t have come as a surprise.
He never could catch a break.
Travelling with companions turned out to be surprisingly comfortable.
Some of them were better company than others but all were capable in battle — they strolled through goblins, spiders, and all kinds of nasty creatures with ease.
Everything was going smoothly until his hunger grew too strong.
The boar he’d found earlier had satisfied him for a while but then he realized how slow and sluggish he was becoming. His daggers felt heavy, he could barely focus, and his nerves were constantly on edge.
He needed something
better.One night, while the others slept, Astarion decided to take action. He was confident that if he was careful enough, he could take a sip from one of their necks without waking them up; they would be none the wiser but he would get stronger.
He circled around his sleeping companions, assessing them, but in the end choosing his snack wasn’t difficult.
Shadowheart, bless her
heart, already missed enough of her shots. No reason to make her weaker.
Lae’zel was way too intimidating, and he wasn’t sure if he’d enjoy githyanki blood.
Gale was just insufferable.
So far Wyll, the Blade of Frontiers, hadn’t lived up to his name; he seemed like a bland slice of toast which was not appetizing at all.
Biting into Karlach’s neck would probably burn his face off.
And then there was Angelina.
The woman was too reckless for his liking and definitely wore her heart on her sleeve, but there was also a certain kind of brazenness in her that Astarion approved of.
She’d probably make a delicious midnight snack.
Once he had made his decision, Astarion knelt before her, revealing his fangs. He leaned forward and closed his eyes, ready to bite, when he heard a gasp.
Angelina was looking at him, confused and angry.
Shit
After his companions didn’t slaughter him when they discovered his secret, Astarion was sure that his luck had run out. Yet here he stood, at their camp, drinking disgusting wine and watching the tieflings celebrate even though they hadn’t done anything.
It was Astarion and his companions who killed all the goblins to secure the road to Baldur’s Gate. It was they who were bruised and exhausted, and all they got for a reward was a couple of bottles of red piss and a pat on the back.
How disappointingHe said so out loud, and Angelina raised her eyebrows at him. She seemed content enough, if not a little bored. She grabbed the bottle from his hands and took a long sip, her face turning into a grimace.
Seeing that she had at least some taste, Astarion decided to try his luck. He rarely got no for an answer — he was aware of how he looked even if he could no longer see himself in the mirror. But it had been a long time since he’d propositioned anyone who wasn’t going to end up as Cazador’s meal afterward.
If she said yes, maybe Astarion could give her a night to remember — something so good that she’d keep him around until Baldur’s Gate. He needed help getting there, after all, and he wasn’t entirely sure about his position at their camp. Using his body as a tool was nothing new, and he was great at doing what needed to be done, there was no question about it. A couple hundred years had certainly made him an expert at seducing people.
They’d have a night of shameless passion — Angelina would get her needs fulfilled, and Astarion would get protection until they reached the city.
And a little manipulation never hurt anyone.
Tuoreimmat viestit
Kiitos kun kommentoit <3
