#OH YEAH AND HER ELF EARS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

misctf · 1 month ago

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Christmas Curse

Hey everyone! Happy Holidays. If you have any holiday-themed asks, I will try to prioritize those. Hope you enjoy this story!

“Yeah, yeah Stacy, I know.” Matt grumbles, “You’ll be here soon. Got it.” He rolls his eyes, “ Jesus Stacy, I got the kids their presents. I know how to be a dad.” He hangs up, “Fuckin’ bitch.” He mumbles.

Matt yawns and starts preparing his morning coffee. He was going to need it. While he didn’t really mind having his kids over, he did hate having to see his ex-wife. Always nagging him, even after they signed the papers. It was that nagging that drove him to cheat on her with one of his clients at the gym. At least that’s how he justified it. A small frown formed on his lips as he sips his coffee.

“First Christmas since the divorce.” He mumbles, looking around his empty apartment, “Damn.” A part of him starts to feel guilty- his kids deserved better. No decorations, no tree, not even a single light, “Fuck. I won’t hear the end of this.” His thoughts return to his ex-wife.

He quickly walks to his closet where he had a few things that he got from the house after the divorce. He sighs as he realizes most of the decorations he took were broken- likely due to how unceremoniously he treated them during the move.

“Oh god.” He grimaces as he pulls out their Elf on the Shelf, “Terrifying little fucker.” He chuckles, “Yeah, you got me good, Stacy.”

It was the one decoration Stacy insisted he take in the divorce. Likely because of how much it creeped him out. Just another petty move on her part, he figured. Yet part of him can’t help but smile. His kids loved the thing.

“I guess this’ll do.” He quickly walks back to the kitchen and places it lamely on a chair.

He walks over to grab his coffee and upon turning around, he raises an eyebrow. The damn thing was on the ground. Matt walks over and quickly places it back on the chair, making sure there was no way it could fall.

“Creepy fucker.” He mumbles, turning around again.

Thump

“Really?” Matt turns back to find it on the ground again, “Seriously, what the hell?” He picks it up and looks at it closely, “Stay put.” He realizes he sounds insane- talking to an inanimate object.

“Make me.” Matt’s eyes widen as he realizes the decoration just talked to him. Its eyes blinking. Its giggles echoing in his ears.

“Gah what the fuck!?”

Matt cries out as it bites down firmly on his thumb and he throws it across the room. He stares at the small teeth marks on his thumb and watches as the little demon scurries away, its giggling filling his apartment. Matt’s breath became heavier as he stumbled to the kitchen sink and started cleaning out his cut. His thoughts were racing and he was feeling dizzy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” He’s mumbling to himself, and he shakily grabs his cup of coffee.

But when the bitter liquid touches his tongue he gags and drops the mug. Its disgusting. Bitter, sour, and he spits out as much as he can. He quickly rushes to his fridge, looking for anything that might get that disgusting taste out of his mouth. But none of his protein shakes look appealing, nor does almond milk or his protein smoothies. Matt doesn’t know what compels him, but he grabs the chocolate milk he got his kids last time they visited. Without much thought, he begins to guzzle it, downing the carton in a matter of seconds.

“So good...” He giggles, wiping his mouth.

His eyes widen at the realization of what he just did. He just ruined his macros for the day without even thinking about it. At least the taste from the coffee was gone. Matt shakes his head- realizing he has bigger things to worry about. He needed to find that elf. As his thoughts return to his predicament, he can hear a giggle coming from the bedroom.

“Fudger...” Matt mumbles, “Fudger? No I meant fudger! What the fudge?” He shakes his head, trying to curse, “Sugar plums... I need to find that thINg.”

Frustrated at his inability to curse, and the strange cracking of his voice, Matt rushes to his room. Desperate to find the monster and give it back to Stacy. Of course she gave him a cursed doll. And as he storms down the hallway, he absentmindedly scratches at his beard. The hairs falling away, leaving his cheeks smooth and hairless. Unbeknownst to him, they take on a rosier complexion, filling out slightly and becoming rounder.

“ThERe you ARe.” Matt’s voice cracks as he notices the decoration sitting atop his tall dresser, “Come here.”

Matt approaches his dresser and reaches to grab it but finds his arms no longer reach the top of it. The elf grins and teases Matt, reaching out to Matt, who is unable to grab it. Just missing ever so slightly. The personal trainer is growing frustrated, now standing on his tippee toes as he desperately swats at the elf.

“Why can’t I reach it?” Matt thinks. At 6’3” he never had an issue reaching the top of the dresser.

And as he lifts his arms above his hand, he catches a whiff from his exposed pits. But it’s not his musk that invades his nostrils. No, it’s sweet. Like gingerbread and holly. He lowers his arms, not even registering that his pit hair has vanished.

“What’s happening to me?” He whispers, his voice softer. The masculine edge diminished. He looks up at the elf, who is smiling at him, “What did you do to me?”

Matt turns and looks over at his full body mirror. A high-pitched gasp leaves his mouth as he catches a glimpse of himself. He’s short... at least 5’4”. And his muscles look softer. He saunters over to the mirror, feeling his smooth face, rubbing a hand through his dissipating chest hairs. His tokens of masculinity vanishing at an alarming rate. His face cute- elfish even. Just like... just like...

“No, no, no!” Matt’s voice has settled on its higher tenor, “Stop this!” He hisses, hating how pouty his voice sounds, “Please! I...” He turns to confront the elf.

But it’s no longer on the dresser. Matt’s heart is pounding in his chest as he swings back to watch the changes continue. He grunts as his meaty pecs let out a hissing sound and deflate before his eyes. Days of chest flies and bench pressing seem to reverse themselves as his chest becomes flat, his two nipples becoming perkier and sensitive to the cool air in his apartment. He can’t help but massage his flat chest with his dainty and smooth hands. Part of him enjoying how cute he looks, another part utterly horrified at the loss of his gains.

“Wait, please don’t... not my arms!”

In a moment of lucid thought, he realizes that his impressive tris and bis are releasing the same hissing sounds. Rapidly becoming stick-like and nonthreatening. Matt feels tears well up in his eyes. He loved to flex- to show off to his clients. He loved holding women in his muscular arms. How they would run their hands along them and his abs... His abs! He watches as they too smooth over and vanish, giving him a lean tummy. His treasure trail, another symbol of his masculinity has similarly vanished. The hairs falling to the ground, leaving Matt smooth.

“Oh god...” Matt feels for his Adam’s apple and frowns, “Even my voice...” He stumbles backwards and slides down the wall, “Oh!” He moans as his inflated ass cushions him, “Wh-what...?” He moans as he feels his larger ass. His hands filling with the flesh of his larger, jiggling mounds, “Ohhhhh...”

He gives them a squeeze, part of him embarrassed at how sensitive they are. At how each squeeze causes his dick to harden with pleasure. And as he moans again, he can’t help but realize that the bulge in his pants becomes less prominent. While part of him screams to stop, the pleasure he’s getting from just squeezing his ass overpowers any remaining willpower he might have. When he finally does pull his hands away from his ass and looks down his pants, his heart sinks. His dick has settled on 2 inches hard. Far from the thick meat women would beg for. And while part of him wanted to cry, to beg to return to his masculine form, another part urged him to give his ass another squeeze. And he did. Again and again and again...

It was a few hours later when he heard a knock at his door. Matt was lying face down, ass in the air, his dainty hands massaging his thicc ass. He slowly pushes himself up and giggles. His rosy cheeks rounding out more as a smile forms on his cute face. He quickly walks over to the closet where he rummages through tank-tops and hoodies.

“So ugly and boring...” Matt thinks as he hums a Christmas tune to himself.

And then he finds it. He never really remembered buying it, but the red footie pajamas, white fluffy mittens, and Santa hat are absolutely perfect. He quickly puts them on and walks over to the mirror.

“Ohhh I look so good!” He giggles, lifting his leg and doing a twirl.

Part of him registers that he looks exactly like the elf. A near perfect, human replica. And while he feels deep down this is wrong, that he isn’t some elf-like, twink with a big ass, he can’t imagine being anything else.

“No please! Let me out!” Matt’s giggling stops as he listens closely to the voice in his head. And when he stares in the mirror, he sees who he used to be. A desperate fear in the man’s eyes, “Please! I’m not...”

��Shhhhh!” Giggling fills the air, “We have a lot to do!”

Matt leaves the mirror, the sound of sobbing echoing deep within his brain. But Matt can’t be bothered right now. He quickly swings open the door and grins when he sees Stacy.

“Stacy!” He sings, “Merry Christmas Eve!”

Stacy grins, “Seems like you found my gift.” She says, “I just came by to pick up the presents for the kids. I think they should stay with me this Christmas.”

Matt frowns, “Alright... It’s not like I’m ready for Christmas anyway.” He pouts, crossing his arms.

Matt watches as Stacy leaves with the few presents he got for his kids. Internally, Matt is begging to be freed. This isn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t... His thoughts slow as he feels hands grip his massive ass. The two Matts moaning in unison. Their minds melding in the midst of their shared pleasure. And internally, Matt realizes it’s too late. As the new Matt opens up Grindr to find a hairy daddy to fuck his brains out, Matt realizes by the time Christmas morning comes around, he and this new Matt will be one.

As he dreads his future, he can hear a giggle coming from down the hall. One last mocking laugh from the elf on the shelf.

#male tf #male transformation #straight to gay #mental change #personality tf #twink tf

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arc-misadventures · 16 days ago

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Your Semblance Is What?

Weiss: H-Hold on?

Weiss: You can do what with your semblance?

Jaune: Shapeshifter. I can change my form to however I wish it to be. Well, almost, I can look like other humans, animals, and even, Grimm, but I can’t change the colours of my eyes. They’ll always be blue.

Weiss: Can you become anything else, like an inanimate object?

Jaune: Yep! I can change into a locker, and you could hide in me.

Weiss: Whoa…! C-Can you change into any… fictional things? Like a weird gun?

Jaune: Depends… I can change into something that looks like one, but I have to know how it works. Like turning myself into a weapon, say a pistol is easy, but to actual fire like a gun, I need to learn how a real gun works. Otherwise, I have to imagine it until I figure out how it best works.

Jaune: My sister asked me to change into a slime from her favourite videogame, it took me months to figure out how to do anything in that body…

Weiss: So… You could change yourself right now to look like a bull faunas?

Jaune: Easily!

Jaune: See? What do you think?

Weiss: Whoa…

Jaune: Personally I prefer wolf ears…

Weiss: Awww~!

Jaune: They don’t get in the way bullhorns do, plus I can hear with them!

Weiss: That’s convenient.

Jaune: I can also become a woman too!

Weiss: Wait, what?

Jeanne: See~?

Weiss: Oh gods…?!

Jeanne: I found out I could do this one day after my sisters made me wear a dress again, they got upset they couldn’t dress me up in drag after I did this.

Weiss: So big. So bouncy.

Jaune: But, I prefer this form in all honesty. Less of a hassle.

Weiss: So uhh… J-Jaune… Since you can change your shape…

Jaune: That’s a shapeshifter for ya.

Weiss: Could we… could you change into… into… (Whisper whisper)

Jaune: Yeah, I can. Why?

Weiss: Because I want you to… (Whisper whisper)

Jaune: What?! You want to do what?!

Weiss: Please! It’s always been a dream of mine!

Jaune: Weiss… this is…

Weiss: I’ll let you choose what we do next time!

Jaune: …

Weiss: Please~!

Jaune: …

Jaune: Haa…

Jaune: Fine…

Weiss: Wonderful! Just do this, this once for me, and we’ll never have to do it again.

Jaune: Oh I doubt that.

~~~

Jaune: Okay… Are you… comfortable, Weiss?

Weiss: Yes absolutely! Let’s begin~!

Jaune: Haa… You know… I expected a lot of things from you, Weiss. That you’re into this! I did not expect that…

Weiss: W-What’s wrong with me being an elf girl?

Jaune: Well, there’s nothing wrong with…

Weiss: That’s been tangled up in a slimes tentacles~!

Weiss:

Jaune: There’s plenty of wrong with…?!

Weiss: Where the tentacles strip her naked, then violate her body leaving her a panting moaning mess cover in it’s… Grrk?!

Jaune: Okay… Let’s just get this over with…

Weiss: (Moans~!)

Jaune: Oh gods… I hope no one else hears about this…

Ruby: Weiss?! You’ve been captured my a tentacle monster?! Don’t worry, I’ll save you!

Jaune: Ruby?! This isn’t what it looks like!

Jaune: …

Jaune: It’s exactly what it looks like… But, I can?!

Ruby: Whoops~? I dropped my weapon, and I’m a defenceless maiden at the mercy of these vile… girthy tentacles~! Whatever will I do~?

Jaune: Haa…

Jaune: No one will hear of this.

Ruby: No one, but you, Daddy~!

Jaune: Gods I hope this doesn’t become a thing…

#rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee #ruby rose #jaune x weiss #weiss x jaune #ruby x jaune #jaune x rwby #rwby whiteknight #rwby lancaster #rwby war of the roses #rwby colourguard

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daistea · 8 months ago

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Thank you for the food the fic was so nice! Your latest Mithrun fic made me think of the scenario more. Imagine Kabru, someone aware of elven culture, heard of us doing this the first time we did it from a friend who overheard it. He tries to find us to worn and educate just to find out it was too late and defeatedly explain to the other elves that tallman don't have that culture just to clear us. Aftermath of it is so hilarious. Also an alternative scenario for this setting I can think of is a random elf accepting our offer, or just someone who doesn't know about Mithrun feelings towards us, like Flamela and just exploit us and Mithrun later learning about it.

I love this prompt so much, thank u

2500 words!

tw mild nsfw implications

Mithrun x Tall-man reader

sequel to this

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Kabru scoffed at the notion that secrets and rumors were like feathers on the wind, uncatchable. He was great at catching feathers. He used them to stuff his pillow which he slept so soundly on at night. Rumors were wild dogs, but he had a leash and collar. He’d tamed beasts with bigger teeth.

(That was, of course, a metaphor, as Kabru could not literally handle things with big teeth, as exemplified from his time in the dungeon.)

A particular sort of secret reached his ears in the empty hallway of the castle. It was the kind of secret that raised hairs and inspired mortification, which were the best kind. Usually.

“Yeah, they asked to touch my ears,” Pattadol’s muffled voice was strained, tinged with embarrassment that Kabru could detect even through the door.

“Mine too,” Flamela drawled. A pause followed her words, then she continued, “Pervert.”

The two elves then moved onto a different subject consisting of Pattadol’s worries for diplomacy and Flamela’s dismissals of such worries. Kabru listened for a moment more before silently moving away. He stalked down the hallway with dark clouds rolling in within his mind.

You had asked Pattadol and Flamela if you could touch their ears.

Kabru put his hand to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. He leaned against the wall, beneath a portrait of some old ruler from thousands of years ago. There was still so much dust in the castle, but the thickness in his chest wasn’t from allergies. You were his friend, and so innocent, so curious. You couldn’t have known the implications of touching an elf’s ear.

He had to speak to you immediately.

“Yeah, I figured that out.”

Kabru forced a smile and tilted his head. He was aware of how wide his eyes were, how he probably wasn’t doing a good job at hiding his shock and horror. He couldn’t bring himself to care at that moment as he watched you casually take a sip of your tea.

“You figured it out?” He asked. Kabru wasn’t sure whether to be mortified or proud.

“Oh yeah,” you slowly nodded as a triumphant smile rolled across your lips. When you opened your eyes to return his gaze, there was a spark within them that did not bode well. “I figured a lot of things out, actually.”

He took a moment to study your expression. The half-lidded quality of your eyes, the slight pink upon your cheek, the tilt of your chin; realization hit him like one of Marcille’s explosion spells.

“You got laid.”

You nodded proudly, “I got laid.”

“...Mithrun?”

“Yeah,” there was triumph in your voice.

Kabru tried his best to control his irritation. You were so casual about it, he could’ve throttled you. How unromantic, asking the man who was entirely too smitten with you: ‘can I touch one of the most sensitive parts of your body?’ And the audacity, the horror, of that actually working.

It was personally offensive to Kabru. He’d spent years building up his talent for wordplay and charm. Then, here you are, harassing poor elves. And what are the consequences of your curiosity and ignorance? Hot sex and a beautiful elf boyfriend.

Unfair.

There were other consequences, though. The thought of Flamela referring to you as a pervert was enough to cool the boiling in his blood.

“Okay, I’m going to help you,” he sent you a smile.

“I don’t think we need help,” you grimaced, “we both know what to do. But thanks.”

“I– I don’t mean with Mithrun. I mean in general. I’ll help you recover your reputation with the elves of Melini.”

You tilted your head, “My reputation? What do you mean?”

“Well, I heard Flamela call you a pervert earlier.”

“Oh,” taken aback, you sat up straight in your chair, hands tightening around your mug, “Honestly, I forgot I even asked Flamela.”

The feeling in Kabru’s chest could only be described as the slow decay of his soul. “Well, she remembers quite well.”

Another grimace, “Oops. It’s no big deal, though, I’m sure they all understand that I just didn’t know the implications of it.”

Your optimism was so cute.

“I’ll take care of it,” he took your hand and smiled, “don’t you worry.”

Kabru was used to elves. He’d grown up in the Northern Central Continent where elves were the dominant percentage of the population. Even in Utaya, elven culture strongly influenced daily life, architecture, and manners. His own adoptive mother was an elf.

Still, his experience did not negate the particular brand of nervousness that came from having nearly ten elves staring at him.

There was the first squad of the Canaries, Flamela– who was only visiting for the week– Fionil, and Marcille. All of them were absurdly pretty, confused, and pinning him to the wall with their unsettling stares. Flamela and Mithrun, at least, had the decency to look irritated at the interruption to their day.

Kabru forced his lead tongue to work, “Alright. You’re all probably wondering why I’ve called this meeting. First of all, let’s start with this: Raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimized by [name]’s curiosity concerning your ears.”

Everybody besides Fionil and Marcille raised their hands.

“Okay,” Kabru sent the two half elves a reassuring smile, “you two are free to go. Thanks for coming.”

“Are my ears not good enough?” Marcille muttered as she and Fionil left the empty noodle shop.

Mithrun had very generously given Kabru permission to hold the meeting in his noodle shop before the dinner rush. It was of humble size, but clean and quiet with the smooth scent of broth clinging to the walls and chairs. Kabru had a feeling that Mithrun only lent him the space out of curiosity after he’d mentioned that the meeting had to do with you, his partner.

Silent anticipation settled over the small group. Most of them were taut, seconds away from leaving if he said the wrong thing.

Kabru cleared his throat, “Alright. So, I just want to settle something. [Name] is not a pervert.”

There were those eyes again. They were like six lances ripping through his skin and affixing him to the wall.

“What?” Otta asked.

“They’re not a pervert,” he repeated as he raised his hands, “they’re just really curious and didn’t know any better. So, please, don’t judge them too harshly.”

Another beat of silence followed the plea. His gaze shifted to Mithrun, who was watching him carefully with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs stretched out in front of him. As their eyes met, Mithrun simply held the gaze, his face as blank as fresh parchment.

Kabru set aside the building urge to dissect Mithrun’s brain and instead focused on the rest of the group. “They really didn’t know any better,” he continued despite the rising murmurs among the group, “please forgive them. Tall-man culture is a lot different from yours.”

That seemed to please the elves. Collective negativity was always far more satisfying, he knew.

“Savages,” Cithis huffed.

“Idiots,” Flamela agreed.

Otta had the decency to argue, “They’re just innocent and ignorant. And it’s not like elven society openly discusses those kinds of things.”

True. Elven culture was confusing. Wearing revealing clothes and showing a lot of skin was normal for them, nothing to give a second glance to, though the subject of sex and arousal was deemed inappropriate. One was expected to maintain their dignity, wear a mask depicting perfection, and bring honor to their family. The nobility were commonly quite repressed, though commoners had a tendency to loosen their tongues among friends. Still, sexual education was not taught well, or often, despite their dwindling population. It seemed a bit counterproductive to Kabru, but he understood their reasoning and how centuries of superiority complexes brought them to that point.

“Did nobody actually tell them what it meant?” Pattadol asked.

Lycion sent her a raised brow, “Did you?”

“Well, no, but…”

“I did,” Mithrun interrupted. Every eye went to him, though he kept his gaze straight ahead and his arms crossed. He let a moment of silence pass before he continued, “They won’t be asking to touch anybody’s ears again.”

Flamela made a face, “So, did they touch your ears?”

“Yeah.”

He said it so casually, unbothered by the surprise and amusement of the other Canaries. Fleki leaned forward to clap a hand on his shoulder, which earned a little frown from him.

“Did you get laid, Captain?” Fleki asked, her grin toothy and stinking of mischief.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t need to know that!” Pattadol screeched, “You don’t have to answer every question honestly, you know! You’re allowed to keep secrets!”

“I know,” Mithrun shrugged.

He just didn’t want to keep that particular secret, Kabru knew. Mithrun would much rather that everybody recognize his stake, his claim, his flag buried at the top of the mountain he’d just climbed. It was easier that way.

Flamela, though, was Flamela.

She stood up, her fists clenched. “I’ve got things to do. I can’t waste time with you guys anymore.”

The first squad ignored her departure and instead started asking Mithrun a myriad of invasive questions, much to Pattadol’s distress. Yet, Kabru kept his gaze on Flamela. There was a spark in her eyes, one he recognized. It betrayed her intentions. As one of Mithrun’s closest friends and certified nosy-guy, he couldn’t help but subtly follow her out and into the street.

“Excuse me,” he said once the door shut behind him. A few feet away, Flamela stopped mid-step and whirled around with a glare.

“What?” She hissed.

“You’re going to do something you’ll regret, aren’t you?” Kabru sent her a look he hoped she’d recognize as concern. It was definitely concern, because anybody that planned to mess with you deserved that.

“I won’t regret it,” Flamela rolled her eyes, “I just… don’t understand why [name] would want to touch the Captain’s ears and not mine. Mine are longer and softer.”

“Are you really offended over this? Didn’t you tell them no already?”

“I’ve changed my mind!” She snapped.

“Are you just trying to get back at Mithrun for charging you full price for a bowl of noodles?”

She froze. Her mouth was open, shaped in a scowl. Her shoulders rose like the hackles of a cat. Despite the flicker of satisfaction that Kabru felt at having hit the mark, the hair on his arms stood to attention. He was seconds away from being tackled.

Fortunately, he side-stepped right as Flamela attacked.

Now on all fours on the dirt street, Flamela glared at him over her shoulder, “He should’ve given me a discount!”

“He isn’t obliged to.”

“He is!” She stood up and dusted off her uniform, “[Name] should want to feel my ears, they’re better.”

Kabru put his hands on his hips, “You’re just being competitive.”

“Shut up,” she hissed before brushing past him and stomping down the street.

Kabru glanced to the left just in time to see a glimpse of dark eyes staring out through a crack in the blinds. Judging by their black color and uneven manner, it was obviously Mithrun peeking at his conversation with Flamela. He made eye contact with the captain for a second before Mithrun narrowed his gaze dangerously and let go of the blinds. They snapped back into place, but Kabru couldn’t quite return to his natural state like that, not with the black-eyed storm brewing.

Flamela found you on the street. It wasn’t the best place for ear-rubbing, but her mind was on one track and she ardently refused to veer.

“I’ve reconsidered,” she said. There was no greeting or smile or easing in of the conversation.

You stopped mid-step and stared at her. “...Reconsidered what?”

“About you touching my ears.”

Did you ask to touch her ears? The memory wasn’t popping up for you. Yet, now that you knew what that actually meant to elves, you felt appropriately horrified by the statement. You were on a crowded street. If any passersby had a clue as to what Flamela said, they showed no indication. The elf population in Melini was small. The implications of ear touching most likely flew over their heads as it once did for you.

You managed a smile that you hoped was polite, that you hoped didn’t betray your embarrassment. “That’s okay, thanks.”

Flamela narrowed her eyes, “Why not? My ears are softer and longer than Mithrun’s. If you’re going to touch an elf’s ears, I would think you’d want the full experience.”

“I, uh, I got a pretty full experience with Mithrun. But thanks,” you offered another smile. Something about the way Flamela frowned hinted at deeper motives. You just had to ask, “Is this because Mithrun didn’t give you a discount on a bowl of noodles?”

She scoffed, “No!”

It was definitely about that.

As you prepared an explanation of your loyalties to Mithrun and his decision to not give her a discount, a flicker of mana filled the air, pricking at your skin. You knew that particular brand of magic. Your heart dropped into your stomach as the spot behind Flamela shifted like the surface of disturbed water. Half a second later, Mithrun appeared.

You felt yourself tense. Flamela was on a rant about discounts. Mithrun’s gaze was calm, too calm, dangerously calm. The only sign of his anger was the feral look in his good eye. In the past, Mithrun wouldn’t have cared about Flamela offering her ears to random tall-men. He would have resisted any urges to teleport her into walls simply because it would get him kicked out of the Canaries. But the demon was gone, his purposes for living were different. You were one of those purposes, one of those desires, and he was so one track minded that he would do anything to hang onto that.

He raised a hand. Flamela tensed as if sensing the danger. Nearby, Kabru pushed through the crowd, panicked.

“No!” You lunged at your partner before he could teleport the Vice-Captain to a place where she’d never get noodles again, let alone discounted ones.

Your body weight crashed onto him. His eye widened and Kabru gasped. Like a felled tree, you and Mithrun both fell to the ground. Flamela said something you didn’t quite comprehend, but it didn’t matter at the moment.

You laid on Mithrun. He laid on the ground. He put one hand on your back and chose to stare at the blue sky above rather than fight your will. The passersby sent the scene curious glances but wisely stayed away, giving you and Mithrun a wide berth.

A shadow cast over your bodies and you looked up to see Flamela blocking the sun. She only glared, hands on her hips.

“I want a discount,” she said.

You felt Mithrun grunt beneath you. Another beat of silence passed before he answered, “Fine. Just stay away from [name].”

“Deal.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#asks #mithrun #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #mithrun x reader #mithrun of the house of kerensil #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi x reader #x reader #reader insert

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grimm-writings · 9 months ago

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can i request chil eavesdropping on reader telling marcille about their crush, and getting jealous because he doesn’t realise that it’s him?

distant

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, miscommunication, marcille being a gossip and izutsumi being petty

…wc! 613

…notes! making this short and sweet. hope you enjoy!!

Even with Chilchuck’s enhanced hearing, it’s difficult to miss Marcille’s loud gasps of shock whenever she hears anything that strikes her very core. You and the elf like to take the chance to gossip with one another when the day comes to a close. Chilchuck personally doesn’t get it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t tune in occasionally to something that catches his attention.

With a lowered voice, “actually,” you say, “I have something to admit…”

“Yes?” Marcille matches your volume. Anyone else probably wouldn’t be able to listen in easily, all except Chilchuck. What could even be so interesting that you can only discuss it this way Marcille?

“I think… No, I know for certain I caught feelings for him,” you whisper with a dejected sigh.

Chilchuck freezes in place as he was helping clean plates from the past meal. Izutsumi, who was joining him, spared him a glance. Noticing this, Chilchuck quietly apologises and continues the routine.

…Izutsumi’s foul stare doesn’t stop him from listening in on the conversation more.

“Really?” Marcille whispers, though with her excitement in tow it makes her voice sound shrill, which makes Chilchuck flinch slightly. “You figured it out?”

“Yeah,” you respond with a sigh. “Don’t think he likes me back– it’s like he’s giving me the cold shoulder.”

What? Someone would be stupid enough to be cruel to you? But you’re so sweet! Even observing from a distance, Chilchuck has formed a bit of a soft spot for you. He doesn’t get too close, out of his own rule of not forming interpersonal relationships.

He’d have to give that guy a piece of his mind…

“Ah, but he’s actually really sweet once you peel back the layers, you know?” You continue, confusing Chilchuck further. “He can be so soft, so gentle… But once he realises what he’s doing, he withdraws. He’s so distant.”

“So he’s sending mixed signals?” Marcille confirms.

“Mhm…”

A nasty twinge of jealousy twists in Chilchuck’s chest. Not like he isn’t used to it when it comes to you before. You really care for this guy? And he’s not even being clear with what he wants? Ugh, if only he could see him face to face!

Wait… Could it be someone like Laios? Or Senshi? Laios can be a little out of the loop when it comes to communication… and he wouldn’t doubt anyone would be somewhat enamoured with Senshi’s ability to care for someone.

Fixating on relationships is not what Chilchuck tends to do, but if it’s you, he wants the best for you. He really does, but…

“Oh my God, are you stupid?”

Izutsumi’s voice breaks Chilchuck out of his thoughts, looking up at the younger girl. Her own ear twitches, indicating she also heard the conversation. “They’re obviously talking about you.”

Chilchuck flushes. “What–”

“And you mock me for not being self-aware.”

“I’m not even that–!”

“Gentle?” Izutsumi scoffs. “Says the guy who tenderly carved a woodwork ornament for them. Get real.”

Embarrassment fills Chilchuck up and out of his ears, opening his mouth and closing it cluelessly. “...I’m not doing anything about it.”

“And let them believe you don’t like them at all? Sure, go for it.”

Chilchuck purses his lips hesitantly, putting the plate away. “If they want to confess, they will… I won’t leave them distant.”

Izutsumi only stares with little amusement. Relationships are her bane, but not in the way Chilchuck holds disdain for them. They make people stupid, like how Chilchuck and you are. She sighs wearily, finishing up the chore and returning to where she was relaxing.

You two better get over yourselves fast, if not for your own sakes, then for hers.

#✮ grimm's fics!#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon x reader #delicious in dungeon imagines #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck tims imagines #chilchuck imagines

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operationslipperypuppet · 6 months ago

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we all know work song is a hardshine song, so what if i put a bunch of naddpod moments together to make that more true.

Transcript:

Moments from Work Song by Hozier and (in order) C1E54, C1E68, C1E91, C1E70 (two clips), C3E39, C3E32, C3E30, C3E45 (two clips), and C3E44 edited together. Song lyrics are in bold. Episode jumps without lyrics between them are shown with "--".

When my time comes around

Murph [narrating]: Hardwon, you are in this strange, in between world. {Kingshammer begins playing in the background} Like, the Feywild right now looks like an oil painting, like it's gray and white, and you can vaguely see what's going on, but it's all blurry. And you hear a bunch of voices in the distance. You hear the voice of Gemma, in the distance going:

Gemma [Murph, whispering]: Hardwon, it's not your time yet, Hardwon. Hardwon, we'll be together but not now.

Hardwon [Jake]: Gemma.

Murph: You hear another voice calling to you.

Elias Stormborn [Murph]: Son, join me in the halls of Isgard.

Murph: And from somewhere else, you hear dissonant whispers, but amongst them you recognize the voice of the Widow.

Lydia Stormborn (The Widow) [Murph]: We can get out together, we can get out together.

Hardwon: Mother?

{Kingshammer slowly fades out}

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

Moonshine [Emily]: {Gutless plays in the background} Um, I just wanna remind you, not every problem needs to be fixed, but, if you want, I can reincarnate you.

Hardwon [Jake]: I wanna die, real bad.

[Caldwell laughs]

Moonshine: Okay, well, I'm gonna take that as a positive because if you die, then I can reincarnate ya.

Hardwon: Take it whatever way you want [chuckles]. Uh, but no, I, yeah, no, that's, that's the right interpretation.

Moonshine [overlapping]: Hardwon -

Hardwon: I w - I -

Moonshine: I really don't want you to want to die, because I want you to live so much and I don't wanna be alone in that feelin'.

Hardwon: I don't wanna die. I wanna - I wanna - I wanna live again.

No grave can hold my body down

Murph [narrating]: And you guys hear its voice, uh, simultaneously echoing through the cave and also sounding like it's right over your shoulder, somebody whispering into your ear.

[Emily hums in acknowledgement]

Death [Murph]: Hardwon Surefoot.

Beverly [Caldwell]: Woah!

Hardwon [Jake]: 'Sup?

Death: {The Purge starts playing in the background} You should be dead.

Hardwon: Yeah, looks like you can't do your job right, can ya? [Caldwell chuckles]

Death: The reason I can't do my job is because people like Beverly and Moonshine break the laws of death.

Hardwon: Careful, you're talking about my family.

I'll crawl home to her

Murph [narrating]: {Oh, Melora! plays in the background} Hardwon, your spirit, um, flies into this body. Uh, you see, Melora picks it up, pulls him out of the sea, and brings half-elf Hardwon into this, um, demiplane with all you guys.

[Caldwell laughs]

Hardwon [/Jake]: {Tale's End plays in the background} I smash my forehead against Moonshine's, too. [Emily laughs in delight] And say, hey, if I was gonna come back as anything, I'm proud to come back as half of you.

When my time comes around

Hardwon [Jake]: But, Beverly and Moonshine? They don't need me. [pauses] And, and I have to be okay with that.

Hardwon: {A Memory plays in the background} But I'm coming to understand the reality - that they're gonna stay as strong and heroic as we all once were, and I'm going to fade away.

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

Hardwon [Jake]: Um, do me one, one favor? If I start to slow you down {bird chirping sound in background}, you leave me behind.

No grave can hold my body down

Hardwon [Jake]: {metal guitar music plays in the background} Hardwon kips up.

Murph [narrating]: Your eyes are closed, you're knocked out, you remember the last time you were knocked out by an avatar of Gruumsh, you know you can't let that happen again. Just pure, force of will, you jolt your heart and get it going again, and you kip up.

Murph [narrating]: {The Hexblood Centurions plays in the background} Hardwon, you are suddenly jolted back awake with the help of Sol, you see Sol hovering over you.

Hardwon [Jake]: Oh, my god -

Sol [Caldwell]: Hey.

Hardwon: - do I love the smell of mushrooms after I wake up from death. [Caldwell laughs]

I'll crawl home to her

Hardwon [Jake]: [other cast members laughing throughout] Moonsh - Moonshine, if you can hear me, I'll be there tomorrow. I'll be there tomorr- I'm coming. As fast as I can.

#when you're mad. know i made myself sad as i did this #anyway happy wednesday. you are welcome.#naddpod #not another dnd podcast #bahumia #ba2mia #hardwon surefoot #hardshine #at least that was the intention so read it as such if you'd like

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thechekhov · 1 year ago

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Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH42

Who is that. Is that Marcille? It doesn't look like Marcille. Why her ears so small.

why is this alternate-universe man struggling with so many modern day issues, like his parents pestering him to have kids? We came so far... but in the end.... we never left.

DAMN, GET OFF HIS ASS! I know it must be a dream but damn. You don't have to do the poor boy like this! He's doing his best!

We all need friends like this that will just wrestle you into bed.

.......is the idea that you can enter someone's dream as easily as just sleeping on them? Just physical contact? Damn. Free MMO VR experience.

Ah yes. Because really, what ELSE would you use lucid dreaming for, if not this?

Someone who's never read Dungeon Meshi explain what's going on in these panels.

Not gonna lie, I'm a huge sucker for weird liminal spaces like these. I know they're meant to freak people out but they have the opposite effect on me. This is peak mental stimulation.

IT'S A BABY MARCILLE????!?? AOOUUUGUGUHUGHU LOOKIT HER

Me and Laios: ah, yes, Marcille's family is a polycule, confirmed. This is surely the way it's meant to be taken.

oh, that's. hm.

Ahhh, poor kid! She's so terrified, and even though she doesn't recognize Laios, she knows he's a friend. Damn, I really love the fact that, despite often arguing with him, Marcille and Laios are actually genuinely close friends.

WEE WOO WEE WOO THAT'S NOT GOOD.

I just realized her doll looks like Falin!!! Will the wonders never cease!!

Oh! It's the guilt! :D Her real source of fear is the crushing guilt of having resurrected her girlfriend and accidentally siphoning away her humanity!

.........hang on. If it's not monsters OR death that Marcille is scared of.... is it possible that she's scared of... other people dying before she does?

She's an elf, right? Or a half elf, if the people who spoiled that reveal for me have spoiled it correctly. That means she'll probably out-last her friends. Is THAT the fear?

...or did he.

You can do what????? Use ancient magic to reverse the aging of your loved ones?!?!

That eye is the same as that of the elf, huh.

Yeah girl, you show that thing. Bonk it with the wizard's spellbook.

👏let 👏 her 👏 sleep!

Y'all got. CLAMS? In your. PILLWS?

......Y';ALL GOT PILLOWS? IN THE DUNGEON??

... the internal monologue of a cat who will continue to be too lazy to move for the next 15 hours.

OH!!!! HIM!!!!!!

(❁´◡`❁)

Listen. You don't choose your fursona. Your fursona chooses you.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi quick reacts #dungeon meshi liveblog #delicious in dungeon #chekhov reads dungeon meshi

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choccy-zefirka · 1 month ago

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Living Bodies

Woe! 3K words of body worship with Emmrich and a plus-size Rook, who that had a horrible first time as a teen and internalized her partner's disgust, be upon ye!

Content warning for references to bullying, dubious consent during the aforementioned first time, fatphobia, and also everyone's privates being out among the Necropolis flowers :3 (They are doing it in a cute skeleton-adorned gazebo that came to me in a dream)

Dear Lottie,

I am so terribly sorry you fell sick and missed all the fun! But we did it! We actually did it, all according to plan! Sprung the trap for my "secret admirer"! And our suspicions were correct!

All those gunky little lumps of soap Papa found folded in my laundry — they were put there by the washer girl! That knife ear, the one that looks like a toad! I think her name is Len-something, but who cares? And yes, she made them herself, out of whatever goop she's gathered round the alienage — because she has a """"crush"""" on me! The cheek! As if just because I don't like boys exclusively, I'd ever give the time of day to a walking, talking potato! She isn’t even cute in that scared rabbit way, like elf girls are supposed to be!

She did come to the "date" me and the girls arranged, too, and blathered on and on about how beautiful I am (fact) and how much she likes me (yuck)... Until we had enough and pushed her into the river!!! Oh, I wish you were there with us, it was ab-so-lu-te-ly hilarious!

Say, since you are sat by the window in your chair all day, have you heard any news out on the street? From the paper criers, maybe? I want to know if Len-whatever ended up drowning.

Correspondence between two traders' daughters. 9:40 Dragon

***

Happy now, Sticks?

Did her like you told me to. All the way. What a shitshow. Lardy Lenny is even lardier naked, that's for sure. Felt like sticking my dick into a giant slug. Next time I lose this stupid game, just send me into a shem's mabari kennels with salami for a sword. That will be way less painful.

Don't know how I'll fuck normal girls no. The fat cunt ruined it for me. Think I'll be having nightmares for years after this. Told her that, and she started bawling. Didn't even look funny like she usually does in tears. Just gross.

So yeah. Enjoy, I guess.

Note from an alienage boy to his friend, attached to a crumpled set of girl's underclothes. 9:42 Dragon

***

At first, Lenore is too distracted by turning and flexing her left hand. Her wrist has been getting a little stiff lately: she probably holds her arm at an uncomfortable angle when mixing potions. No surprise, since she is self-taught. Aching joints and sleepy pin pricks are the least of her problems, really! When she was just starting out, on a work bench that was just a half-rotten plank of wood balanced on a rock in the alienage backyards, she'd splash hissing, blistering liquid all over herself, turning her forearms into pale clumps of scar tissue, like cold leftover noodles plastered sadly at the bottom of a bowl.

Maybe if she observes Emmrich more closely during their studies together, she will figure out how to position her arms properly... Ugh. She'll find any excuse to "observe" him, won't she? Well, she's allowed; they are a couple now, outlandish as it sounds!

A couple.

All at once, her mind catches up to what her ears heard after Emmrich, gentle and attentive as always — what has she done to deserve him? — pointed out her stiff wrist.

Finer points of anatomy.

Her eyes dart upwards from her hand, and she gapes across their elegantly arranged tea table. Emmrich smiles, soft yet playful, eyes half-lidded and shining in the wisp light.

There is that side of him, that confidence — decades' worth of it — that sometimes makes her, all flushed and boiling alive in unspoken greed, wish for more than just quick kisses and lingering glances and fingertips resting on knuckles, shoulders, waists, whenever they stand too close. As if all of that was not already a gift far more generous than normally granted from someone like him to someone like her.

It has been a harmless enough indulgence to entertain, she supposes. A guilty pleasure, something titillating to think about in the secret alone hours while she touches herself. Not that she does it too often; bodies like hers aren't really meant for this, she's well aware... But still, that's also something couples are allowed to do, right — imagine each other's faces in place of characters from the Randy Dowager's Gold Collection?

But here and now, with Emmrich looking at her like that, it hits her with the full force of a Venatori blood forge trampling her to the ground. A keen, panicked awareness that this is not the Randy Dowager's Gold Collection. This is real — they are real. Especially her. Too real, too heavy, suddenly suffocating under her own weight, suddenly feeling the scented air of the Memorial Gardens with every pore of her skin, so tangibly, disgustingly physical that it begins to itch.

Most of her is carefully concealed underneath her usual Veil Jumper leathers, but if Emmrich, the real, non-fantasy Emmrich, decides to explore these finer points of anatomy, if he lifts the covers and sees just how much she the opposite of that...

Oh. Oh no.

She still remembers, a decade later, how the sight of her naked body broke the first and only boy that agreed to touch her. And that was before she got most of her scars!

She can't do that to anyone else, ever again. Especially not to him, not to her most treasured friend, not to the man who has been so kind to her that she dared bother him with her clumsy attempts at romance. Because with him, she could be certain, at last, that it would not turn out to be a prank.

How can she repay him by giving him nightmares?!

"Dearest? Why are you crying? Was I... Was I too forward? Too much?"

She did not even notice when the tears came. But here they are, marring her vision, so that there are two Emmrichs circling the table, kneeling in the grass next to her. Unafraid of the stains that will be left on the pristine Nevarran satin. Clasping her hands.

"I know that not all experience attraction the same way; if you would rather not explore this side of romance, that is perfectly fine, and wonderful! Your affection has already been such a beautiful gift."

Past her, the one that clung to the shadows, beyond the welcoming golden glow of camp fires, outside the reach of a friendly embrace; the one that spoke in sparse, grunt-like words, and kept her head down, beaten more than once, and shy far, far more than twice — that her would have made a vague noise and slunk away, never to bring this up again. But Emmrich — and Manfred! — was the one who brought her out of her shell. He deserves the truth, spoken with her whole chest.

"I... I do feel that kind of attraction towards you. You are a beautiful man, inside and out, and when I am with you, I sometimes forget myself and... pretend I am beautiful too."

She draws in a long, labored breath. She needs all the air in her lungs before this next plunge — she should know, she almost drowned once.

"But I am not. Especially not... from the neck down. You may have gotten used to my face..."

She dips her head — a habitual motion by now — letting her long, side-shaved fringe fall into her eyes. There's always quite a bit to hide under her hair: the dark rivulet of a birthmark on one side, the scar and the squinty damaged eye on the other. At least now she can do alchemical experiments in a mask and protective goggles. Less of an eye sore for Emmrich, to be sure.

"But trust me... My body is much worse."

She shuts her eyes and shrinks back into her seat, momentarily losing her present, adult, more or less mature and competent self (at least when it comes to alchemy and to… saving the world?) in the sheer blood-curdling terror of being seventeen again.

"The boy who took my virginity was so appalled that he said I'd scarred him forever. This has haunted me for ten years. And the... deed itself was punishment from his friends for losing some sort of dare. Do you understand?"

She forces herself to look into his eyes, even as the unseen, tightly wound strings holding her together begin to snap, one by one.

"Being with me... in that way... it's torture. I care for you too much to ever — "

"Lenore, my darling..."

Still on his knees — and still so tall that their faces are level — Emmrich pulls her hand to his lips and covers it in kisses. First on the outer side, swift, soft, each touch a beat of velvety butterfly wings; then, long, nearly reverent, on the inner side, where her pulse hammers against her bluish-pale wrist.

"Thank you for being frank with me. And I am truly, deeply sorry that you were betrayed with... such utter cruelty, in one of your life's most vulnerable moments. That fool of a boy was not the one scarred. You were. And oh, my dearest, you are still bleeding."

She listens to him in petrified silence, still as a startled halla before a long, soundless leap away from danger. She does not mean to — she knows Emmrich better than this by now; if he is disgusted by her, he will be much more polite about it — but instinctively, she braces herself for him to recoil away, grimacing like he is about to vomit. Overwhelmed by the sheer mental image of her laid bare before him. A slug; a toad; the stuff of nightmares.

Any second now. Any second.

He never does recoil.

"I know I cannot close this wound with a few words, much as I wish I could... But, darling, please try to take them to heart nonetheless."

His eyes, fully open now, reflect so much of the Gardens' ephemeral glow that it feels like she's sinking into two pools of starlight.

"Every body is as unique, as precious, as beautiful as the soul within. We study them, we mend them, we venerate them, in life and beyond. Your body is already dear to me because it is yours... And if you were ever to open it to me, like you opened your beautiful mind, there would be no greater honor than to discover — to savor — every last inch of it."

"I..."

Lenore swallows, her head swimming. If this lofty speech were delivered by anyone else, she'd have scoffed in doubt. Does she look like someone to whom a man (or woman, or anyone) would wax poetic about the sanctity of mortal flesh? What's the catch? But it's Emmrich, her Emmrich, whose voice and touch make it so easy to... Well. Forget herself.

"I want you to. Please."

He beams at her, placing one final kiss in the middle of her palm. Like a seal for a secret pact.

"Of course, dearest. Follow me."

They both get up, leaving Manfred (who has been off chasing the see-through Fade butterflies among the headstones, bless his innocent makeshift heart) to clean up their little picnic... Or at least to amuse himself with exploring how tea cups can be neatly stacked together.

Emmrich leads her to a secluded gazebo, crowned by yet another rendition of the embracing skeletal lovers that she has seen throughout the Gardens. Its threshold is barely visible, overgrown by a rustling carpet of delicate white blossoms that heave like the softest seafoam around Lenore's ankles.

"Shroud's kiss," Emmrich muses, after plucking one fragile white cup and placing it in Lenore's hand, right over the spot he kissed. The petals feel weightless against her skin, effervescent as a melting snowflake, as if woven from the Veil itself.

"I always loved the legend around this flower. They say that it grows on lovers' graves, and that one moves closer to the Fade simply by inhaling its fragrance."

He gestures to a bench under the intricate dome of metal lace, which is also cushioned in countless white flowers. She sits down, and a pale blue barrier shimmers into place around the gazebo. Shielding them from prying eyes. Emmrich's doing — or the Gardens'? Was this a secret rendezvous nook for someone else, once? Someone who might be buried underneath? Or, knowing Nevarrans, cast into the statue at the top of the dome?

"Do you think that legend is true?" Lenore asks, momentarily unable to contain herself. The fingers of her free hand race along the tips of the blossoms, and her alchemist's mind races in tandem.

"If we could maybe extract the essential oil and run a few experiments; but oh, that would require sacrificing so many of these beautiful flowers..."

Emmrich chuckles. He has leaned over her, bringing his lips so close to hers that she can drink in his breath, a pulsating heat beginning to rise at the bottom of her stomach.

"It is true if I will it, my dear," he murmurs, and the second he closes the distance, his tongue meeting hers in a kiss deeper than any they have shared before, the air all around them erupts in a cascade of pale-green sparks. Ghostly petals glide through the air, and if Lenore truly does tumble into the Fade, it is in a part of it that is as serene and sheltered as their Lighthouse.

The fragrant breeze is like silk against her burning cheeks, caressing her, each stroke leaving her more and more light-headed. Somehow, her body stops feeling like a heavy heap of scrap metal that she has to lug around while everyone stares at her; it is hugged gently by the cushion of petals, while Emmrich, as promised, explores it with both affection and... and gratitude.

He is still kissing her, diving deep with no fear of drowning, when his gloved hand unbuckles her belt and slips past the innermost layer of her traditional elven tunic. Her insides clench at the sensation of velvety fabric against her stomach rolls, and then her chest. As if she is balancing on a precarious clifftop somewhere back among the floating ruins of Arlathan.

But that startled pang soon dissolves into sweetest bliss. Emmrich has loosened the tunic's collar, allowing her shoulder and breast to escape, out into the warm, perfumed air. How scandalous! How very like the Randy Dowager's Gold Collection! Does she... Does she actually belong in one of those stories?

He continues to trace the outlines of her half-bared form, and his fingers are soon joined by his lips, which wander away from her gasping, half-parted mouth, and keep slowly moving down, paying a tribute of little kisses to each curve, each mole, each stretch mark. With a few motions of his deft, scholar's fingers, the layers of clothing peel off her torso completely, like she herself is a blossom unfolding.

His gaze measures her, from the flaming tips of her teardrop-shaped ears to the contours of her stomach. He smiles, a languid, hazy smile.

"Thank you for letting me see you, dearest."

"Can I..."

She clears her throat, part of her still dumbstruck in disbelief that this is actually happening. That she is actually saying this — to him.

"Can I see you as well?"

"I would be delighted."

She bites her lip, unsure where to start. But, ever so helpful, he weaves his fingers through hers, and patiently directs her through unclasping first his largest bracelet, then his collar pin.

Her heart hammers in her throat when she removes his jewelry and lays it on the bench beside her. With the bulkiest pieces out of the way, the buttons on his vest and shirt go next, and each of her little conquests over the delicate buttonholes is rewarded with a kiss from Emmrich. It does not slip past her that each of those grows a little sloppier than the next, a little more intermingled with bites and short, panting breaths. It's as if... As if he's enjoying her touch as much as she enjoying his.

At long last, his shoulders are bare as well. Exhaling softly, she marvels at the way the shadows of the gazebo’s lattice sculpt his bony clavicles, and runs her hands over the bristly cloud of short silver hair on his chest, and up his throat, where the skin is more worn with years of living, experiencing, being... him.

"You are perfect," she whispers, her thumb trailing over his cheekbones. At the sound of her words, his skin radiates rosy heat, and her body responds in kind.

"As are you, my darling."

His hands are back on her chest, as hers are on his. She chokes back a sound that might be a moan, or might be a sob. He pauses his chain of tender touches, uncertain if she is distressed. But she assuages his doubts by pressing into his mouth with another kiss, and if any tears do roll down her cheeks, those are tears of relief.

He hums in contentment at the back of his throat, and his fingertips, in their endless conductor's dance, brush along the texture of Lenore's many potion splash scars. She shudders when the cold metal of his few remaining rings glides over her, and the pulse between her legs, which has been growing stronger throughout their tender exchange of touches, of admiration, teeters close to its peak.

"Emm... Emmrich?"

She resurfaces from the kiss, dizzy and emboldened by the taste of him, and fumbles about for his hands, guiding them, like he guided hers, to push down her pants. His name comes out sounding as an awkward, stumbling mix between a needy plea and a tentative question. Emmrich, she means to say. Can you... Do this?

The thing is, she has no clue how to accommodate him between her thighs, underneath the soft pillow of her stomach. The worst parts of her, as the mirror says, as the memories in her head jeer.

But he smiles at her, and lavishes her with even more kisses, while she squirms under his searching lips, both nervous and aroused. Soon enough, he finds a comfortable angle... And again, he is on his knees before her. Fully giving himself to worship.

In romance serials, the good, beautiful partner with the perfect body orgasms when they are pleasured by their equally good, beautiful, perfect lover, and merely pretends to orgasm when the bad, comically inept or tragically forced lover, always fat, sweaty, and disgusting, slams against them like a dying tusket. What happens to the fat lover in the meanwhile, tends to be left out of the picture, because theirs is not the part of the story that the reader is here for. Perhaps, when the good lovers elope together into the sunset, the bad, fat lover is left to touch themselves all alone, in shameful secret, making a point not to overindulge, just like Lenore has in the past, because that would be disgusting...

And yet here she is. With a song of short, gasping notes coaxed from her lips, as his tongue circles within her and the ghostly blooms all around them merge into a flash of blinding white light.

When the peak is reached, when the wave hits her, and she, for once, is unafraid to drown, she impulsively grabs at the hair on the back of Emmrich's head... Which she only realizes once her mind stills a little — and instantly lets go, tumbling from the realm of pleasure back into awkward, clumsily physical reality. Apologizing for hurting him, again and again.

He looks up at her in half-drunken confusion, his hair in disarray, the pearly thread of her sex glinting in the corner of his mouth.

"Darling..." he manages to slur, his breath hitching. "You did not — "

Despite herself, she glances a little further down. And, for the first time — oh, by the Maker, Mythal, whoever, she is still so clueless! — she notices the bump in his pants. The little wet spot.

Oh. Oh.

He liked that.

"I wish I knew how to use my mouth the... the same way..." she stammers bluntly, still not looking away from the straining fabric.

"That is quite all right," he mouths, carelessly unspooling the band of red around his waist.

"There will be more nights like this one."

Until you become a lich and your duties take you away from someone so small and insignificant, a stray thought, like a charge of ice magic, runs through her brain, down her throat, impaling her very heart.

Grinding her teeth slightly, she wills her mind to return to the present moment. To the here and now. To Emmrich, brought to blissful ruin by the sight and feel and taste of her innermost self. To his sweet little moans and the rhythmic, almost elegant up-and-down pumps of his jeweled fingers, as they cup around the cock he finally brought out of his pants.

She never thought that Focus on his cock, focus on his cock, Lenore! would be a little chant of reassurance. The last time she saw erect, leaking flesh before her, she would rather have focused on anything else. But who knew that intimacy could be so different... even for the likes of her?

She bends forward and sneaks in a few kisses — on his wet mouth, over the desperately thrumming vein under his jaw — before his shuddering release leaves a messy splash of evidence over the both of them. She will help wash it off, of course; she knows the best potion mixes to do that... But it won't be something shameful, something that she had to get over with, retching and doubling over, her underthings stolen as evidence that the brave hero had survived the battle with the oozing, lumpy giant slug. It's simple, and natural — something that bodies do.

Bodies that are cherished and taken care of and worshipped. Hers revealed to him, his revealed to her.

Alive, here and now. Their skeletal forebears watching over them, in kindness and understanding.

#dragon age #da:tv #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrook #rook aldwir #lemon #age gap ship #original things

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whaledenwtf · 1 year ago

Text

Halsin x Dryad!Reader - The Summer Solstice

IM BACK BITCHES!!! Instead of doing my presentation for university I'm typing this. You're welcome.

Cross-posted on AO3 here: Link All other links will be at the end of the fic!! ENJOY

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Oral (Female and Male Receiving), BEACH SEX YEAH, Size Difference, Oh Yeah Did I Mention MATING PRESS

Once again, my efforts to keep him as true to character have been made. :)

WORD COUNT: 3630

Link to some Summer Solstice Rituals I reference here: LINK

You couldn't help but be impressed. It was the summer solstice, and the Arch Druid of the Emerald Grove handling the rituals of the day was excelling. Excelling enough to gain the attentions of Silvanus himself. You were watching his back from behind an oak tree, admiring the musculature. He was tall, strong. You liked that. Your mind flitted between the mortal and what had happened earlier in the day. The Oak Father presented himself to you in your mind earlier today, expressing his excitement of one of his followers.

"His name is Halsin. He has excelled in many of the rituals and in assisting nature. He has even reached Arch Druid status." He had said offhandedly. You were always a curious Dryad, and knew you had to investigate. You knew Silvanus was meddling but you haven't been around mortals in decades. You wanted to join the festivities after all; the summer solstice was your favourite holiday! The flowers are already in full bloom, the summer air is sweet with the smell of hydrangeas and peonies. You knew many of your companions were celebrating on their own, with nature and chosen company. You decide to get a little closer to the celebrations, walking out from behind the oak tree you were hiding behind. Many of the druids turned to look at you and gasped. Many of them dropped their lutes and violins, the sounds of nature becoming louder in the sudden silence. Many of them came to you, with offerings of honeyed mead and flower crowns. You crouch down to a small elf child holding a marigold and lavender crown.

"Little one, may I wear your crown?" They look at their parents for guidance before nodding and placing the crown above your head. It blooms further once it is placed upon you, and the smell of lavender wafts around the air. You pluck one of the lavender buds from your crown and put it behind the child's ear, smiling.

"Now we match." The child giggles in wonder, before running to hide behind her mother's leg, watching you in glee. You rise to stand, only to notice the Arch Druid had turned around to watch you. You are stunned by his beauty. His face is angular, with a tattoo on the right side and a gruesome bear scar on the left. He was perfect, in your eyes. You smile at the crowd you attracted, before walking past them to reach Halsin. When you get close, you smell him and are enamored further. Pine, musk and cedar. You can understand why Silvanus had sung his praises; he was the embodiment of nature.

"We haven't had a dryad join in our festivities yet. May Silvanus preserve you." You bow dramatically, the vines and leaves that make up your clothing sway beautifully behind you.

"An honour it is to meet you, Arch Druid Halsin. Your reputation precedes you." He chuckles, his voice deep and booming.

"I hope you heard all good things I hope." He smirks down at you, hazel eyes glistening in the twilight. The last beams of sunlight shine on the both of you. You glow with a radiance, like water reflecting sunlight, and he is attracted to you. Your beauty, your essence, is all captivating.

"Silvanus has only sung your praises, Halsin. I had hoped to see you in person and was graced by your ceremony. Wonderfully done." He blushes, the tips of his ears burning crimson. He seems at shock from your words; Silvanus has praised him? He feels truly blessed. You turn to look at the onlookers, who were still gazing at your beauty.

"Please, continue your celebrations. The Oak Father wishes you all enjoy yourselves in the time of festivities. Enjoy nature as he intended." You words were clear, and not a moment later, did everyone begin celebrating again. You turn back to Halsin, who is watching you in wonder. You blush lightly under his gaze, before sidestepping to look at the altar of light.

"Beautiful spread. I see you added citrine and pyrite; as well as some local blooms." That seems to snap him out of his spell and he nods.

"The celebration of the solstice is one I take very seriously." You turn to look at him over your shoulder.

"May I?" He waves over the altar, allowing you to do your magic. Your eyes begin to glow green, and sunflowers begin to bloom in your hand. You lay them aesthetically on the altar, smiling.

"Thank you." He tells you earnestly. You giggle at his enthusiasm, smiling as you turn back to him.

"Of course-" You look at the horizon, noticing the the sun had set. "Well, I believe it is time for the bonfire and feast! Oh, I haven't been to solstice festivities in years." You tell him excitedly.

"Join us." He tells you. You smile widely at him, and his heart flutters in his chest.

"I'd love to. I'll dance- oh and sing! I'm so excited!" You are buzzing in place. He finds it adorable. His hand goes to the small of your back ushering you forward.

"Go on! Enjoy yourself." His hand feels warm on your skin, and you blush.

"What about you?" He waves you off.

"I tend to look over the festivities. Have to make sure we do not lose any cubs." You bite your lip, thinking. You had an idea.

"What if I ask you to celebrate with me? Would you join then?" His gaze glances down at your lips before meeting your eyes.

"I can make an exception, for such a beautiful guest." You blush once again. He smirks as your skin darkens, and he can't help but wonder if that blush shows up on other parts of your body, hidden to his eyes.

"Then I will make sure to save a dance for you." You go on your tippy-toes, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, before running forward into the fray. His hand holds his face where you had kissed him, and he smiles. He can't wait.

You had spent the last hour dancing with the children of the Grove. You were showing them the dryad's dance, a sensual dance with a lot of swirling; your arms swaying. Like a willow tree you wave and sway, the wind following your movements. Your eyes catch Halsin watching at you, a heat in his gaze. At the end of the dance, you end with a flourish, arms spread up towards the moon. Flowers and flower petals fall over the children, who squeal and giggle excitedly. They come to hug you and you pet many of them, sprouting daisies and marigolds to give to each child. Once they receive their gifts, they run around the grove, chasing each other and playing. The music changes to a very familiar tune. The musicians begin playing "Down by the River", and you begin to sing. Your voice, ethereal and otherworldly echoes in nature. You begin to dance, voice still echoing. Like a siren, Halsin felt the pull of your voice, and began to edge closer to you subconsciously. Once he gets close enough, you grab his wrist, tugging him into a dance. You begin to circle one another, one of your hands palm to palm with one another. You continue to sing, your gazes locked. He is entranced by you.

"Down, down, down by the river." You end the song, twirling around Halsin. You both bow at one another, as everyone applauds you both.

"Thank you for the dance." He tells you huskily. You squirm under his gaze.

"I was hoping for more than one dance." You tell him quietly. He feels particularly emboldened by your response, and puts his hand around your waist.

"What were you thinking of?" He asks you quietly. Your hands lay on his chest.

"Perhaps we can celebrate the solstice together... privately." He hums, his arms pulling you closer to him. You feel his strength through your close bodies, and admire him further, hands caressing his chest, mapping his body.

"What of my duties?" He asks you. He doesn't seem to want to decline. You look around, noticing everyone having fun and participating in ritualistic dances.

"Meet me near the shoreline after the last song has ended and nature's music is loud again. I will wait for you." Your lips graze his gently. You taste like freshwater and thyme. His lips become numb, and his mind is emptied of all rational thought. His eyes glow amber as he watches you walk to the shore, hips swaying. A low growl leaves his chest, and he almost transforms into a bear. He can't help but curse his need to diligently do his duties. This night will feel eternal.

When the last notes of music have died down, and all that is left of the large bonfire is embers, he seeks your company. The night is dark, lit by glowing mushrooms and occasional group of fireflies. His path is dark, but he has never felt such peace. He walks the path to the shoreline, where your voice carries as you sing; the sound of crashing waves accompanying your music. His heart beats loudly in his ears, the tips of them twitching in his excitement. In all his years of existence, he has never lain with a dryad. It seems surprising, for many of his years he had taken an extensive amount of lovers, all of which were of many different races and ages. His bare feet finally hit the sand, and he sinks slightly in his continued path to you. He sees your ears twitch before you turn around, smiling.

"I was beginning to get concerned." You tell him softly. Your voice was gentle, and the emotions that burst forward from his heart urged him to speed in his walk to you, almost sprinting.

"You needn't be concerned of me." You rise to greet him, hands stretch out. He gets close enough to grasp them, and pulls you forward. You land on his chest, and are forced to look up at him. The stars are reflecting beautifully in your eyes. They are focused on his own gaze, and he has never felt more grateful for all of the actions, faults and obstacles in his life that had brought him here; with you.

"Can I not be concerned for someone I care about?" He blushes at the remark, and you notice the druid's skin darken. His hands let go of your own to grasp the sides of your face.

"You care?" You bite your lip, watching his amorous gaze.

"When Silvanus spoke of you, I must admit it was not the first time I've heard of the admirable and fearless Arch Druid Halsin. Your bravery and attunement to nature always attracted me to the idea of you. Now that I stand before you, my heart beats in tune with yours; the idea of any other being is far away in my mind. You take the forefront of many of my thoughts, and have been for the entirety of the day." His hands pull your face forward, his lips smashing against yours. This kiss was unlike the other; passion, excitement and need were felt in this kiss. You moan against him, and his tongue takes advantage of your lowered defenses. Your tongues move against each other languidly, caressing one another. You pull away from him, only to push him down so he is laying in the sand. You sit atop his lap, and begin kissing him again.

He decided that if lightning had struck him in this moment, he'd die the happiest man alive. Such words and attentions he had never heard, especially from the lips of someone he's come to admire so much. The world around them dissipated, and all that was left was them and time indefinite- your words and touches, your two souls joining in nature's basest form of love. His hands caress the sides of your body, his touch igniting heat wherever they touch, a heat blossoming in the very core of your being.

When air becomes a necessity for you both, you separate. You begin to pull his ceremonial tunic upwards, before laying it gently next to you both, taking care in the important garb. His pants are next, and his undergarments fall with them. You kneel between his legs and admire him. It seems Silvanus had taken great care in his looks, and his personality. If you hadn't known better, you'd believe him a god; crafted from your mind's eye. In a moment, he lifts himself up to remove your dryadic clothing, mostly leaves and vines, so he could gaze upon you. Once both naked, your touches become lighter, hovering over him ever so slightly. His skin breaks out in goosebumps, the hairs rising slightly.

"Your beauty is one I never thought I could ever gaze upon." You tell him sweetly. His eyes leave your face for a moment to gaze at the rest of you.

"Sitting here, with you, shows me that some of nature's greatest beauties are ones I hadn't had the chance to gaze upon yet. No words can even begin to describe how I see you in this moment; your beauty cannot be fully grasped with something as limiting as words." You crawl further up into the crevice of his thighs, your belly rubbing against his hardened member. Your noses are touching now, and you are exchanging each other's air.

"I need you." You whimper, and one of his hands grasp the back of your neck, under the thickness of your hair to pull you into a savouring kiss. His other hand goes to tread the path of your body; from grasping and playing with the pebbled peaks of your breasts, to caressing your bountiful curves to the apex of your thighs. You moan into his mouth as his thick fingers tickle the outline of your cunt, feeling the wetness that has gathered there. He moans when he realizes truly how wet you had become. His fingers then dip in between the seam of your cunt, to gather some of your nectar before separating from your lips to taste you.

His eyes flash golden at the taste of you on his tongue. Your wanton moan turns into a shriek as he pulls you up until your cunt is levelled with his mouth.

"I'm going to savour you now. Devour you, until you cannot stand, and your voice is strained. May I taste you, sweet one?" You respond to him by laying your full weight on his face. He wastes no time in savouring your scent, and... devouring you. His tongue explores your depths, as his nose bumps into your clit. You grind on him, juices flowing down his chin. He grabs your plush thighs, grinding you harder into him. He pulls away for a moment to release his grab on one of your thighs before plunging two of his thick fingers into you and sucking on your pearl. You will not last with his attentions. He is feasting on you, your moans and pants urging him further.

"That's right, my little lavender. Finish on my tongue and fingers. Cum for me." The authoritative tone his voice took shook you to your core, and you finish on his fingers and talented tongue. With a moan, your juices leak out of you. He begins to lick your mess, moaning at the taste of your essence. His grip on your thighs have waned enough for you to scramble away, legs shaking. You land with a thump on the ground between his thighs, grasping his cock in your hand. You stroke him once, then twice, before rubbing the pad of your thumb on his head and spreading his precum around. You pull away to taste him, and moan. He growls at your debauchery.

"I'm going to taste you, Halsin. Need to taste you." You huff out as if out of breathe, before taking him in your hand again. Your lips descend on him, tasting him. Your tongue was heavenly on him, and he grasped your hair in his hands, bucking into you. You moan around him, taking him to the back of your throat. He grunts at your attentions, grasp tightening. You pull away for a moment, taking deep breathes before looking him in the eye and taking him further into your mouth. You reach the patch of hair at his base, the tip of his cock hitting the furthest parts of your throat.

"O-oh. Fuck-" Hearing him lose his sense of self, and the fact he uttered an expletive made you feverish, and you began to deepthroat him, ushering him to thrust into your mouth. He takes advantage of your wants, thrusting into you. Your hands move upwards, fondling his heavy sack. Without warning he thrusts deep, finishing in your throat. You swallow as much as you could, the taste of him tart but delicious; you want more. You continue to suck and bob up and down his member, until he cums again, shaking and groaning loudly. You pull off of him, gathering the cum and spittle that leaked from your mouth and putting it back in your mouth, savouring him. He watches you with hunger. He sits up and growls, exciting you. His eyes glow amber, and without warning he transforms into a brown cave bear. You bite your lip at the transformation, aroused by his show of strength. He transforms back into his elvish form, stumbling.

"I-I'm so sorry, I transform when my baser... urges become too much." You shake your head, before sitting down and spreading your legs. Your hand spreads your cunt open, and he watches how your thighs and lips glisten with arousal.

"Breed me, my bear." His eyes flash golden again, but he refrains from transforming again. His arms grasp your thighs and pull them to your shoulders. You're bent in half, and the tip of his still very hard cock is poking at your entrance.

"Please Halsin. Take me. Make me yours." You tell him, urging him to thrust into you. He grunts and thrusts into you with one stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Your back arches off the sand, breasts pressed against his chest. Your lips meet again, teeth clashing at the force of your kisses. His thrusts are rough, and he continues to hit that sweet spot. You keen in his mouth, and he chuckles breathlessly. He continues his pace, hitting that spot effortlessly each time. His hips grind against your clit with each thrust, and your body is overstimulated quickly. You know you will not last long, his passion and accuracy in driving you wild bringing you closer to your precipice.

His lips leave yours, before latching onto your neck and biting you. You caterwaul at the action, gripping his triceps tightly. Your nails are digging into the skin, but he does not care. He is selfish in this moment, wishing you would stay like this with him forever, until the world has disintegrated around them. He removes his teeth from your neck, before his lips latch onto your nipple and suckle from them. Its too much, and you arch your back painfully as you finish. Your constricting walls bring him to completion, your cunt milking his cock. You whimper as you feel his heavy load inside you, leaking around his cock. He thrusts again, and both of you seize with sensitivity. He pulls out of you gently, before laying down next to you. His arm pulls you onto his chest, and you bask in his warmth.

"I'm sorry." He whispers to you. Your head snaps up to look at him. He looks upset, his brows furrowed.

"What's wrong, my bear?" He shakes his head.

"I'm selfish. I'm afraid for the sun's rise for that may take you away from me forever. I... I do not want to let you go, my love." Your eyes get misty, and your hug him fiercely.

"Why apologize? If I could I'd spend eternity in your embrace." His arms wrap around you, holding you to him tightly.

"But you cannot." He whispers. A tear leaves your eyes.

"I'm afraid not. But I can promise to come to you again. When the wind wafts the smell of lavender and marigolds in the air, that will be me calling to you." He closes his eyes and savours his last moments with you.

"Then let us enjoy what time we have left." You nod, wiping your tears from your eyes.

Until sunrise, he spends his time with you in silence, basking in your company. He has never felt such loss when the person has not left his embrace. This time with you has changed him, and he does not know how he can continue his devotion and duties after meeting you. When the dawn breaks, you're moving out of his arms, heartbroken.

"I will visit you as soon as I can." You promise him, getting dressed in your dryadic dress. He pulls his clothes onto his body, which has become cold without your touch.

"I will not forget this moment with you-" He pauses, frowning at his realization. "And… What is your name?" He asks you, cringing as he realizes his poor manners. You look over your shoulder, smiling gently as the sun hits your body.

"(Y/N). Hopefully fate allows us another moment together, my handsome bear." You disappear with a flourish, fully bloomed lavender and marigolds left where you were standing. Y/N… Your name is sweet on his tongue, sweeter than the taste of you. He can never forget a name as sweet as yours, a name that will probably stay branded on his brain until his last breathe.

THE END.

If you'd like to request anything, please do so! I'm getting back into writing and I'd love to write anything inspired by the people! Send requests here: LINK Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist: LINK

#fanfic #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #smut #halsin smut #halsin x reader #halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin x dryad!reader #oh yeah we get sex #sex time #you call him my bear #i want him so bad #need his tree trunk arms around me NOW #im attracted to pixels help

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astarionancuntnin · 10 months ago

Text

Undisclosed Desires (Chapter 2)

summary: its the day after you and astarion indulged in each other's embrace. it shouldve been a once done deal, nothing more, but that last night ended with you questioning your feelings for the pale elf. you struggle to come to terms with those and the day might prove more difficult as you get trapped alone with him in a secluded dungeon

or in short:

rating: E

word count: 4k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, sorceress tav)

cw: 18+. smut, porn with little-to-no plot, karlach gets hurt for the sake of the porn (shes doing her part o7), denial of feelings, sexual tension through the roof, dom!tav/reader, teasing, dry humping, begging, ear licking, vampire bites, kinda praise kink, sorta breeding kink, your honor- theyre both brat switches fighting to top the other.

a/n: at long last, chapter 2! i had so much fun with the dialogues, i hope you enjoy them as much as i did uwu. also, inspo song at the beginning is the same as chapter 1, but a different part of the song, and end of chapter song is a different one (that i linked at the end). let me know how you feel about the dynamic in this chapter 👀

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or keep reading down below ~

I shut my eyes

You call but I just cut the line

I know your style

I know that you want one more night

And I'm backsliding

Into this just one more time

You wake up this morning to the sound of your companions talking nearby. Instinctively, you reach for the spot next to you, only to find it empty. Figures. If it wasn’t for the aching pain in your muscles and the dizziness of your mind, you’d think what happened last night was just a dream.

The way Astarion had ravaged your body, how feral he was, the taste of him on your lips, how he felt between your legs…

Instinctively, you rub your thighs together, chasing the feeling from the previous night. You already feel that warmth between your legs as a result of those memories flooding back to you. You hear laughing outside your tent and it brings you back to the present moment ; your companions are probably waiting for you.

You quickly push aside any thoughts of him and reach for your clothes to get dressed up for the day. You take some time to prepare for what your companions have to say about the sounds that came from your tent last night. They had to have heard.

As you take your first step outside, Karlach is the first to greet you.

“Hey Soldier! Slept well? Doubt it was restful but it looks like you had the time of your life!” She nudges you.

“You can say that again! Those screams made me believe she was dying in there!” Shadowheart shouts, sitting near the campfire, before her and Karlach start laughing.

You feel yourself turn redder after each remark. Hells, I didn’t realize how loud I was.

“It did sound… intense. Are you sure you’re alright?” Wyll speaks up, more worried about you.

You lift your blushing face which was hiding in shame between your hands. “Oh, yeah no, I’m fine just- um,” you turn to Shadowheart, “Can I ask you to cast lesser restoration on me, please?”

She looks at you puzzled, “Can’t you cast it on yourself?”

“The only thing I wanna cast on myself at this very moment is eldritch blast, now, can you please cast the damn spell?”

“So much for the ‘great sorceress with limitless talents’,” she mocks you, reminding you of the very words you used back when you introduced yourself to her.

“SHADOW.”

“Fine, fine,” she scoots over the log, making space for you. “Come here, I’ll take care of you.”

You walk over to her and you sigh as you sit down, completely slouched over.

“Gods, he really did a number on you, huh,” she casts lesser restoration and you straighten up, instantly feeling much better.

“Yeah, you should see the other guy,” you say, smiling, proud to have gained back your wits.

“Speaking of,” Wyll interjects. “We haven’t seen him all morning. We fully expected him to come out of your tent.”

“Huh, I did wake up alone,” you confess. “I just assumed he went back to his tent.”

“Heh! Maybe he’s still in there recuperating from your night together!” Karlach shouts, before laughing some more.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go check up on him,” you roll your eyes as you get up to walk towards his tent.

You’re glad it’s placed far enough from the campfire to be out of your friend’s sights. You didn’t want to give them more ideas if they saw you with the vampire this morning. You call out his name before opening the flap of his tent, only to reveal it to be empty.

“Looking for something?”

You slightly jump, as if you were caught doing something you shouldn’t have, and quickly turn around to face him.

“Gods, you startled me.”

He walks towards you, shirtless, with his hair still damp from his morning bathing and his trousers hanging loosely around his hips.

“Terribly sorry dear, I would never do this to you intentionally.”

His little smile is unnerving. Your heartbeat quickens, and you frown at yourself; You can’t allow yourself to falter this early in the day. You take a deep breath, your way to gain back control over yourself.

“We’re almost ready to leave, so I came looking for you,” you try to look elsewhere but you’re mesmerized by his sight.

“Well, here I am now. Can I… help you with something?”

He raises his hand and strokes your cheek gently with the back of it, his face dangerously getting near yours. You feel your face burning hotter and it takes everything in you to push yourself away from him.

“We should really go, just– get dressed. I’ll uh, I’ll wait for you around the campfire with the others.”

You turn around completely flustered and walk back to your companions.

“Again?!” Karlach exclaims as she sees the state you’re in. “At this rate, you’ll turn redder than me!”

You wanna crawl into the depths of the hells and never come back up.

—

Today’s quest brings you to a secluded dungeon. Your findings from the previous days led you there in search for more information about an artifact you previously found throughout your adventure. If you’re correct, you should find here what’s missing for it to work. Now the only thing left to do is actually finding that missing piece.

With a swift flick of his wrist, Astarion opens the door to the lower grounds. As the door opens, you’re greeted by damp air and a musty smell. The place is dusty and covered in spiderwebs. Whatever you’re looking for must be here judging by the fact that no one has been down here in ages. You all walk in and notice that the place is a damned maze filled with countless rooms. You split up from the group, starting the search on your own, and the first room you walk in greets you with an absurdly obvious trap. You sigh, discouraged, as you fall back against the wall next to the entrance. Guess I won’t be able to avoid him much longer.

“Astarion? A hand?!” Your voice echoes through the hallways, followed by the sound of his footsteps.

He makes his way towards you nonchalantly, “You called, dear?”

“Can you take care of this?” You point towards the device.

He leans over you, his arms caging you between him and the wall, “I could, if you were to ask nicely.” His face hovers dangerously close to you, you can feel his cold breaths ghosting over your lips. It would be so easy to just tilt your head up and close the gap… No, you can’t let him win this. Last night was just a mutual agreement. An exchange of sorts. Nothing more, nothing less.

You cross your arms over your chest, creating some distance between the two of you, “Don’t push your luck.”

“Oh well, I assume you know how to deal with such an intricate mechanism then, if you’re so much better than I am?”, he wears his typical shit-eating grin.

You roll your eyes and step over your pride, “Fine. Can you please disarm this trap so we can carry on?”

“See? Now, was that so hard?” He gives you a playful look before getting to work.

You stand next to him as he fickles with the machinery when you hear a loud commotion from afar.

“FUCK!”

You recognize the voice from your fiery friend and waste no time running towards the source of her scream, only to find her in a terrible state with Shadowheart kneeling next to her. Her leg is barely recognizable. Whatever got her rendered her unable to fight from now on.

“What happened?!”

“Godsdamned trap got me, shit!” She keeps groaning in pain.

“Alright, Shadowheart, do you think you can take care of her wounds?”

“I can stabilize her, but she won’t be able to carry on with her injuries, we need to head back to camp as soon as possible so I can tend to her,” she explains.

“Okay, okay,” your eyes wander between your friends as you’re thinking of a solution. “Yeah, okay, you’re right, I’m not risking Karlach’s life on this,” the cleric nods in agreement, “But we can’t back track now. Who knows what else this trap triggered, it might’ve alarmed someone. We are so close to finding the answer, I can't risk letting it slip past us.”

Shadowheart raises as she’s about to argue but you cut her off, “Don’t worry, I still believe you two should head to the camp. Astarion and I will carry on.” You feel Shadowheart’s glare of disapproval. “I swear we’ll be careful and we’ll run back to you guys should we encounter a situation that's too much for us.” You try to reassure your friend.

“Oooooooo, keeping Fangs all to yourself?” Karlach never missed an opportunity to tease you, even when in insufferable pain. You could respect that.

“Oh please, if it were up to me, he would be the one in that trap.”

“Rude,” Astarion remarks from behind you. You can’t help the smirk creeping up on your face.

“Fine,” the half-elf frowns in resignation. “We’ll head back– but don’t do anything stupid.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Astarion adds sarcastically, as the two walk away.

With half of your party gone, you lose no time continuing your research. You didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with half the manpower in unknown territory. You pass a few halls and rooms, each containing an absurd amount of traps for what little they were hiding, slowly getting discouraged from your lack of findings, when you hear rumble afar.

You both still, listening to the sounds, when you realize they are making their way towards you.

“Hide!”, you barely whisper.

Before he can react, you roughly drag Astarion with you in the next open room and slam the door behind you. You acted faster than you could think ; the sound of the door was loud and the footsteps are now getting faster and louder. You try to remain calm to avoid drawing any more attention than necessary when you see the expression change on your companion’s face, followed by him yelling.

“What in the sweet hells is wrong with–!”

You don’t give him time to finish his sentence as you push him against the stone wall by his waist with the force of your whole body, while your other hand covers his mouth. You stare intensely into his eyes and mouth a “shh”, as silent as you can, to convey the urgency for him to shut up as the rumble of the footsteps get even closer to your location. He blinks rapidly and nods, understanding your motion, but brings his hand up to remove yours from his mouth. You hear the footsteps stop nearby and your heart pounding in your chest as your breathing stills. Your eyes dart towards the door, anxiety building up in your chest. Anything could be outside. You cannot risk getting into a fight you couldn’t handle. Against his own good, Astarion speaks up yet again.

“Let’s just kill–”

And you shut him up, again.

This time, with a kiss.

It’s a surprise to both of you. It was sudden, instinctive. You’re not sure what took over you, but at this moment, it seemed to be the best course of action. You stay motionless for a moment before pulling away, slowly. You hear the sounds outside your room getting further away and you finally breathe out in relief. He looks at you with an annoying smile painted over his face.

You notice him observing you. “You really need to learn when to shut up,” you say, a poor excuse to try and justify your actions, as a blush takes place over your cheeks.

His lidded eyes observe your lips before making eye contact again, “And you think you know better?”

“I know I do,” you frown slightly.

He keeps smiling, that damn annoyingly confident smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to teach me, then. I’ve been known to be awfully loud.”

You scoff. The audacity of this man.

Initially, that first kiss was never supposed to lead to anything else. It was spontaneous, a means to an end, just like your last night spent together. Anything to stop him from talking, whatever would save you from being found. But you couldn’t deny the feelings that fluttered in your stomach, the butterflies in your chest.

He continues, his words dripping with sarcasm, “I’m sure a sorceress of your expertise must have some way to silence a noisy rogue like myself.”

You realize then : all along, you didn’t hate him, you hated the fact that you were attracted to him, to that damn attitude of his. Truth is, you couldn’t have enough of that banter between the two of you. Every morning, that was the thing you were looking forward to. There was no denying yourself anymore ; you chased the feeling of arguing with this overblown, pretentious asshole. You wanted him, in more ways than one, and in any way he would offer himself to you.

“I can think of a few tricks,” you lean over him the same way he did you earlier, your faces barely an inch apart.

“Try me,” his voice is barely a whisper by now.

You let your feelings guide your next move as you pull him in by the collar of his armor, crashing your lips against his. If he saw this as a game, you intended to win. As the kiss depends, you’re taken back to that scenario you played in your head the night before, prior to Astarion’s visit.

At the next corner, you would’ve pushed him by the waist against the nearest wall and shut his pretty mouth up.

Your kiss started out rough, but it quickly became passionate, it engulfed both of you into a world of your own. His hands roamed up your back and down your waist, pulling you in closer, reaching for more contact. Your sorcerer robe allowed for you to feel how tightly he grabbed you and yet, it didn’t feel like enough. You wished for nothing more than having your skin being ravished by his touch.

You would’ve taken the chance to let one of your hands roam through his silky smooth, curly hair, pulling it enough to get a moan out of him.

Oh, and how soft it was. Freshly washed from this morning, his curls felt like silk through your fingers. You let your hands linger in his hair, combing through it, before lightly pulling it back. He groans in your mouth as a response, not parting from your lips just yet, and you smile through it.

How you would’ve parted his legs with your own, and grinded against his crotch, feeling his growing bulge.

You easily push yourself between his legs and grind against him. He pulls back from your kiss then, gasping in surprise. With the threat outside the room being long gone, you welcomed any noise you would get out of him. You feel his cock getting harder against your leg and you keep rubbing him up and down, creating more pressure over his member. He rests his head on your shoulder, breathing hard, his hold on you getting tighter.

“Hells, darling, I didn’t think you had it in you,” he pants.

“Mmh, seems like I’ve got a lot more to teach you then.”

You reach for your trousers under your robe, letting them fall down after loosening your belt, before reaching for his, pulling them down just low enough to expose his cock which is already leaking with pre-come. He hisses when you grab a hold of him, your mere touch sending shivers down his spine.

You smirk at the visible reaction he has to you, feeling powerful over him. Such a contrast compared to your last night tryst. This time, you were guiding this dance.

You guide him towards your entrance, only to grind yourself over him. He slides so easily between your wet folds and you can’t help the moan escaping your lips. The friction over your clit is nothing short of euphoric. You swing your hips back and forth, coating his length with your arousal, as he holds onto your waist for dear life. You grab his face and pull him closer so your foreheads touch, then take a moment to admire the mess you’re making of him, and by the Gods, what a pretty mess he was. His parted lips, gasping between each stroke you would allow him, his eyes fluttering open, lost in the feeling of your thighs squeezing him, his roughed up curls from the sweat building up on his forehead.

He was beautiful.

You feel him moving on his own, trying to change positions so he has more control, but it's not something you will allow this time. You take his hands from your waist and push them against the wall he was leaning against, never stopping the rhythm you had going on.

“What do you think you're doing?” Your voice is coated with desire.

“Please, let me in,” he begs.

“Do you think you deserve it?”, you say, playfully.

“Gods, I– yes, yes I do!”, he whines.

“Beg more.”

“What?! I will not–”, before he can finish his sentence, you reach for his ear with your tongue and give it a lick from the base to the tip. “Mmmgh ah, fuck–”

“What was that?” You nibble on his ear.

“I– Ah–,” his entire resolve crumbles. “Please, love, I need you please,” he begs again, his voice faltering.

You continue to lick and nibble on his ear. “See? Now, was that so hard?” you tease, using his own words against him.

“Oh, you little– ah–!”

You cut him off as you raise your leg to hook it to his hips allowing you for a better angle as you push him inside you slowly. You’re so wet from teasing him that he slides in without any resistance.

You throw your head back, taking in the feeling of him filling you, and at the vision of your exposed neck, Astarion leans in the crook of your neck, bared fangs scratching the spot he previously fed from you. You feel his cold breath along with the wetness of his tongue, lapping at your healed wound. You sense what he wants to do and although you crave it and you would let him do it, you don’t wanna give in so easily.

You stop all motion and with him buried deep inside of you, your hand lingering in his hair grabs a handful of curls to pull him back, away from your prized neck, holding him in place.

He growls insistently, his true nature coming back to him.

“Give me one good reason,” you tug harder.

Through his ragged breath, he smiles playfully, “I just wanted a snack for the road.”

“You drank last night, you don’t need it,” your tone comes out raspy and aggressive despite your enjoyment of the situation.

“But you want this,” he pauses, watching your reaction. Your answer isn’t spoken, as much as it’s seen : your chest rises higher with each panting breath you take, your eyes flutter, drunk on lust, and your core is dripping wet, your combined fluids leaking against your leg. “Don't you?” He knows both of you know it's a fight for control.

You thrust roughly, once, to reassert your position over him, making him whimper. “And just what makes you think that?”

He locks eyes with you, a grin painting over his face. “You seemed to enjoy it last time.”

“Hardly.”

“My dear, you can deny it all you want, but I can read you like an open book.”

You hated how he always managed to have the last word. One day, you tell yourself, It’ll be me. But for now…

“Shut up and bite me.”

The second you let go of your grasp in his hair, Astarion dives in the nook of your neck, plunging his fangs in your pulsating vein. You cry out at the sharp sting you feel and once the initial pain settles in, you pick back up the rhythm you had earlier, making the elf groan as he drinks you in. He was right, his bites had the effect of an aphrodisiac on you. You would never tell him though, his ego was inflated enough as is, admitting it would only make him more insufferable than he already is.

His hold on you became tighter and the more he drank, the less your strength allowed you to keep your position, but the build up down your stomach only grew. You didn't want to falter so close to the end.

“Astarion…” you warn him.

He growls against your neck and takes one last sip of your liquid gold before removing his fangs from you, licking off the new wound he created to clean you up. That's something else you could appreciate from the vampire ; no matter how selfish you found him, he did seem to respect the boundaries you established. He would absolutely push all of your buttons but when it came to sex he seemed more attentive, responsive. You never wanted to fall for him, but your heart had other plans.

You cross your arms around his neck, closing any remaining distance between your two bodies and with all the energy left in you, you thrust harder, and faster, letting yourself get lost in the overwhelming feeling he provided between your legs. Now that you had experienced him once, you craved getting filled up by him, only him, as much as possible, as much as he wanted to. You wanted to be his.

“Darling, I’m close–”

“Come, let go for me,” you breathe in his ear before licking him again. “You’re so pretty when you come inside me.”

Your last words combined with the stimulation you’ve given him trigger his collapse in your arms. He grasps your hips vigorously, pulling you flush against him, allowing him to unload himself deep inside of your womb. You fall over the edge shortly after, drinking in the feeling of his semen filling you up. You fantasized constantly about being filled to the brim by him. Used over and over again, leaking from his seed, the act merely done to defile you in his image. You clench around his length, your legs shaking as you picture yourself overflowing with his come and ride out the wave of electrifying pleasure that courses through you.

As you come down from your high and let your leg down, you reach for something to grab a hold of so as to not completely fall over. Astarion had completely slouched over the wall you fucked him over, he was not an option. The nearest thing that seemed solid enough was an empty torch holder placed right next to the door which you grab without second thoughts. The last thing you expected was for it to pull down as you grabbed it. Even less that it opened a secret trap door in the middle of the room, from which a pillar came out of. You stay in place for a moment, piecing together what just happened, with Astarion making eye contact with you, just as puzzled as you were.

Before you now stands an altar with a very clearly placed piece of dark metal, shaped strangely like the pattern you remember being described in the previous document you found. You put your trousers back on, dismissing the mess between your legs, and grab the missing piece, connecting it to the artifact you held, to see it click in place.

“No fucking way.”

Astarion smirks, as if he was responsible for your discovery, proud of himself, “Wouldn’t have found that out with Karlach now, would you?”

He will never let you live this down.

When you're around me, I'm radioactive

My blood is burning, radioactive

I'm turning radioactive

My blood is radioactive

My heart is nuclear

Love is all that I fear

#my posts #my writing #bg3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #astarion smut #self insert #bg3 fanfic #smut #Spotify #fic: undisclosed desires

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iamnmbr3 · 4 months ago

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Great answers! I do love the idea of Sirius as DADA teacher!

Here's another one for you: rank these characters from worst to best for the post of Minister of Magic

Albus Dumbledore

Lucius Malfoy

Sirius Black (again cause I love him and I read a fic about this once)

Minerva McGonagall

Barty Crouch Sr.

oh god. these clowns would all be such terrible minsters of magic. why are you doing this to me? ok fine. here goes.

Lucius Malfoy: I think because movie!Lucius was sort of toned down and defanged fandom sometimes forget what a nasty piece of work book!Lucius was before he had his downfall and got all sad and pathetic. Fanon!Lucius often gets turned into kind of a joke but book!Lucius was out there torturing muggles for fun by night while he had the ear of the Minister by day and was, seemingly, extremely adept at subtly spreading his pureblood supremacist agenda in government. (Honestly, better at it than Tom because unlike Tom he actually cared). Also in book 4 it's very clear that if he had gotten hold of Hermione - a fourteen year old child - on the World Cup grounds he would've attacked her without hesitation (been eager for it, in fact). Yeah he wasn't down with Voldemort's whole thing but that was more because of the effect it had on him personally. with Voldemort out of the picture he was top dog and he was doing just fine. All this to say, as Minister the policies he enacts are...not good to say the least. He'd be out there building a violent pureblood supremacist dictatorship in a heartbeat.

Albus Dumbledore: Albus says he can't be trusted with the power of being Minister and honestly...I believe him. He'd still play the same messed up manipulation games he plays in canon but on a much larger scale (while simultaneously feeling bad about it and telling himself it's for the greater good). He does some truly epic mental gymnastics to convince himself he needs to make himself dictator for life and then things spiral because obviously anyone who resists him is evil right? Right? Of course! The alternative is that he is wrong and he doesn't want to think about that. Also, he doesn't seem that bothered by house elf slavery and his ideas for getting nonhuman magical creatures on his side in canon seemed to involve asking nicely but not actually granting them rights. So I'm not super optimistic on that front. So yeah. This just turns into the whole of wizarding Britain getting gaslit and thrown into insane situations by a madman who seems so wholesome and lovable and yet... Also. Given how poorly organized the Order is I think it's safe to say that all other flaws aside, the man does not have a gift for management.

Barty Crouch Sr.: Listen. He ALSO sucks. Very clearly ok with slavery, not a fan of due process, and allowed Aurors to torture confessions out of suspects. His only saving grace is that he does love rules so he'd probably eventually step down and wouldn't make as many potentially damaging changes as Dumbledore.

Minerva McGonagall: Her no nonsense attitude ensures that any meeting she runs actually accomplishes things. She's smart. She's sane. She's stable. She doesn't care about ending slavery or changing the status quo, but she's a lot better than most of the options. She's not especially creative or good at political games though which often hampers her ability to carry out objectives and prevent bad actors (i.e. Lucius and his faction) from getting their way.

Sirius Black: What does the man who hates authority do when he finds himself in a position of ultimate authority? I don't know but I'd love to read about it! Sirius is actually pretty shrewd (contrary to fanon) and I think he'd actually turn out to be a natural at handling politics (much as he might hate it). He also understands traditional pureblood society (he is a Black after all) but he doesn't idolize it (he hates being a Black) which would allow him to understand and work with multiple factions. Additionally he can be forceful and authoritative. He's impatient, often biased and unfair, sometimes quite cruel, can be temperamental, and again, has 0 problem with slavery. So like. He's not good per say, but he's actually better than some of the others. (At least with him meetings are never dull because if he gets bored enough he just turns into a dog and eats the agenda).

#asks #Sirius Black #Harry Potter #my meta #meta

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lemonsprite · 6 months ago

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Hello can I ask for BG3 Halsin x reader?

Usually people depict the reader as ageless but I was wondering if you can do anything with a reader that's also up in their 300s? They could probably relate on many thing that come with a long lifespan and stuff

Thanks and have a nice day (I know this is like probably brainless time from me but the summer heat is getting me my brain left me)

Thank you guys for all the Halsin ideas I luv my bear husband TT

𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 || 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐆𝐍! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: Halsin can’t remember the last time he’s met someone like you

Word Count:

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!!! nothing!! Just pure silliness

A/N: I had SUCH bad writers block with this one so I apologize if it’s actual doodoo TT but I love writing the bg3 party dynamic sm ugh

Halsin was used to being a pile of dust when compared to all his friends and companions. Despite only being in the middle stages of his life for an elf, he’d lived much longer than those around him.

Part of that knowledge made his heart ache in a weird bittersweet mixture of emotions. Living as long as he did caused him to see the rise of fall of friends and lovers and there was nothing he could do about it. It seemed like a cycle he was doomed too, one that would unfold the same as always.

Halsin knew almost no elves the same absurdly old age as him.

“Karlach I don’t think the camp really needs another cantaloue… we haven’t even finished the other two Wyll bought three days ago…” chided Halsin, placing a hand on top of Karlach’s and slowly guiding the round fruit in her hands back into the market stall.

“Yeah but mate, what’s gonna happen when shadowheart gets her midnight cravings and eats both cantaloupes in one night?” Pouted Karlach, gripping tightly to the fruit. “What will I eat then…? If you think about it… this purchase is just a tactical strategy…”

Halsin gave her a look, one he was all too familiar with when dealing with those much younger and less wise than him.

Karlach sighed and dropped the cantaloupe, making her way to another stall that sold hand made yarn woven weapon sheaths. (Not the best in terms of practicality but very aesthetically pleasing)

“Do you have this in a size Large?” Asked a voice and before Halsin could catch himself, he found his gaze landing on the stranger beside him. Also an elf from what he could tell with their pointed ears.

“The smithy by the Rivington general store sells the same armour for a cheaper price.” Suggested Halsin, moving slightly closer to the new bystander.

“I could…” he coughed, clearing his throat. “Show you the way if you need?”

Halsin had no idea what he was doing. One second, the elf was scolding Karlach and the next he was flirting with a complete stranger. Something in your eyes, the way you held yourself made him want to know you better, hear you speak his name.

“That would be nice…” you smiled, politely putting the not purchased armour back on the market stand and turning to Halsin.

A large crash resounded behind Halsin and he whipped around to find Karlach standing above a pile of shattered porcelain. Like a large dog unaware of how big she was.

“Hey you gotta pay for that!” Angrily shouted the storekeeper as he looked incredulously from Karlach to the shattered pottery.

“That one yours?” You asked, nodding your head in the direction of the destructive tiefling.

Halsin nodded, watching as Karlach tearfully handed over the little money she had.

“I’ve got nine of them back at camp.” He said wistfully, thinking back to the ruckus and chaos of camp.

“I’ve been on my own for awhile now…” you hummed, walking with Halsin as he began to lead you to the nearby smithy, Karlach jogging to reach up with the two of you.

“I’m Halsin.” He smiled. “And this is my friend Karlach.”

“Oh I know you! I spent a century with the emerald enclave, they spoke very highly of you.” You grinned, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your tunic as you walked.

Karlach smiled brightly, nodding her head eagerly. “You should see when he wildshapes! The bear is quite cute.”

“You were apart of the emerald enclave?” Halsin asked, pleasantly bemused as the city surroundings grew less and less frequent and more bursting countryside surrounded him.

“Not apart.” You explained, giving Halsin a sheepish smile. “Just lived with them a good while, even during that big battle with Ketheric Thorm back in the day, helped as much as I could.”

“I can’t remember the last time I’d met an elf who can recall such a time.” Halsin smiled gently. “Say… would you like to join us for dinner at our camp?”

Karlach gave Halsin a knowing smirk.

“That sounds amazing.” You grinned. “I’d love too.”

Despite the scene of utter chaos unfolding around him, Halsin couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes from your thoughtful gaze.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel were currently arm wrestling for dominance while Gale fought back Astarion, telling him dinner wasn’t quite ready yet.

Halsin had brought you to a quite hill nearby, overlooking all the drama as you two had a quite chat.

“Can’t remember the last time I had a dinner like this.” You quipped, causing the grass to rustle as you leaned back.

“Would you… want to stay…?” Halsin asked shyly, weirdly awkward for a man of his calibre. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time, his usual confident and wise facade slowly melting. You made him feel like a dumb kid again, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“It would be nice to have someone older with a little more wisdom join the party… I don’t think me and Jaeheria can last another day…” he added with a soft laugh, joining you in the grass.

“Jaeheria’s here?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen her in two hundred years.”

“You should stay.” He urged. “I also… just really want to know you better.”

Halsin gently placed his hand on top of yours in the grass, giving you enough time to pull away if you need.

“Yeah… yeah I’d like that.” You smiled, running your thumb over his knuckles and lifting your face to meet his rich hazel gaze.

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years ago

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If your requests are ever opened.

Could I request an yandere twst boys x Elysia Reader?

If you haven't watched or played Honkai. Let me share you some details about Elysia!

Elysia is a female character from Honkai impact 3rd

She's an Elf. Titled as Miss Pink Elf.

She uses a prism bow that launches gorgeous crystal flowers on enemies. Not only that shes very fast at attacking! Even backflipping a few times while firing Arrows upon her enemies.

She's Elegant and Gorgeous. Very very gorgeous. Like an angel!

She's also one of the Flame chasers.

Flame chasers are like super powerful soldiers fighting against a strong deity.

Elysia is an elegant, cheerful, and sweet lady who's described as someone who "enjoys everything".

*but also very flirtatious *smug face*

She rarely speaks badly about anybody, and even then, she would say it in the lightest way possible. She is a friendly presence,

And she has a herrscher form!

A herrscher is a powerful being that either chooses to protect humanity or go against it. But she chooses to protect humanity!

I have a few more details about her! But it's a big big spoiler on the chapter! And I Don't wanna spoil.

Here are some gif and pics of her!

Her normal form

And this is her Herrscher form!

Take your time with this request! And remember to take breaks from finishing requests. Please be sure to tag me if your done! I would definitely like to see the results! Any character is fine!

Pink Elf Elysia Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Powers aside, you are a bubbly personality who loves to live stream and hang out with all your friends. Live streaming and posting It makes for many friends and really irritated obsessive suitors:

Cater Diamond

“Come on pinky, pose for the Magicam!”

“Peaces!”

“Aww, you’re so cute! No worries I’ll be sure to tag you!”

Constantly texting you, posting about you, and you reposting in return

Always keeping you at arm's length

He makes it so that he’s the only one you’re turning to

Spending your time together because he knows the value of capturing you+ the best moments

While he can’t take you on in a fight he guesses he won’t need to

After all, he was hanging out with you the whole time that accident took place

“My magic to duplicate myself? Nah, they were helping me set the camera for me and (Y/n).”

Floyd Leech

“You’re pointy ears are sooo cutte! I want to bite.”

“Awww well only if I get to bite yours.”

“Please!”

Your energy fits his perfectly

Nimble enough to keep him interested when he wants to hunt+ play

Playful enough not to get offended at his advances

And teasing enough to keep him satisfied on a leash

You become the resident Floyd-relaxer

Don’t stop him from getting to you

He’ll strangle if you try and stop him

“Pinky! Elfy! Shrimpy! Give me nibbles!”

Leona Kingscholar

“Oh Leona, do you like my outfit? Admit it I’m absolutely ravishing.”

“Yeah, ravishing for an herbivore.”

“Oya? Are you in denial? Or perhaps you’re quite distracted?”

“Oh please, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

Training with him is something he won’t ever admit how much he enjoys it

Sparring with you is great practice for when he tries to restrain you

He also enjoys how you let him rest on your lap

But he could do without you teasing him

He’ll wreck whoever bothers him about it

“Just shut up and let me rest.”

@rosalynakiyama

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deadlysoupy · 1 month ago

Text

DATV banter if my Rook (Urchin) was a companion 1 / >> 2 << / ?

Neve: You’re jittery in Dock Town. What’s got you worried?

Rook: Isn’t everyone jittery in Dock Town? I’m surprised no one stole your leg while you were walking.

Neve: You’re dodging my question.

Rook: If I said it was the smell, would you accept that?

Neve: Hm. All right, good enough.

Rook: Oh, no. I told you too much, didn’t I? You’re already theorising.

Neve: (laughs) Perhaps.

Neve: Rook, I beg of you, please stop poking fun at our enemies. One insult can cost you your life, some day.

Rook: Hey, they already hate us. What’s the point in holding back?

Neve: The point is that you infuriate them even more. You’re drawing attention to yourself.

Rook: I think that’s the idea.

Neve: Just… (sighs) Be careful, okay? Step on the wrong people’s toes…

Rook: Don’t worry. If I do step on their toes, they’ll know not to mess with someone who has this many friends.

Neve: I’m amazed and scared of your confidence.

Lucanis: You would have been a good assassin, Rook.

Rook: Eh, too much work. And the blood is so difficult to wash off.

Lucanis: That’s why we wear leather.

Rook: The leather is nice. You look incredible in it.

Lucanis: I… appreciate the compliment. But is style really the only thing stopping you from being an assassin? You’re already an honorary Crow.

Rook: It’s good money, that’s for sure. But… I don’t like killing. Not by choice. I kill for survival, not greed.

Lucanis: I don’t kill for money, either.

Rook: I know.

Lucanis: But I understand. If you need work, or a place to sleep…

Rook: I know who to ask.

Rook: Lucanis, I’ve noticed you hold your daggers more upwards. Is that comfortable?

Lucanis: The tilt makes it easier for me to slice. Why?

Rook: It’s not how I do it. Maybe you could show me? I always plunge the dagger in too deep. Ends up a mess.

Lucanis: Sure. What brought this on?

Rook: I don’t know… the Crows are so elegant at killing. It’s mesmerising.

Lucanis: I’ll make sure to tell the other Crows that Rook likes them. But yes, we certainly are taught style fairly early on. How is it with the Lords?

Rook: It’s… different. Okay, fine, I don’t really know.

Lucanis: How come?

Rook: Isabela taught me, no one else bothered to… or could get close to me. I guess I’ve simply developed her techniques.

Lucanis: All right. We can train together and exchange skills. Might be good practice.

Taash: So. You and Isabela.

Rook: Uh-oh.

Taash: What?

Rook: Who told you? How did you find out?

Taash: Woah, slow down. I don’t know anything. But I do want to know now. Are you doing it?

Rook: What! Taash!

Taash: Ugh, what! Isn’t that what you were afraid of?

Rook: (sighs) No. I’m… Isabela practically raised me, Taash. Get your head out of the gutter.

Taash: O-oh. Sorry. Why didn’t you tell me in the first place, then? I thought we trusted each other. You met my mom. Holy shit, I met your mom!

Rook: (laughs) Well, I didn’t tell you because we’re not really official or anything. You know how she is. No touchy-feely stuff.

Taash: Yeah. I get it.

Taash: Why do you wear Tevinter clothes? I thought you were a Lord.

Rook: Tevinter has style. Good colours, comfortable. Lets me appear like a normal citizen.

Taash: But you’re not Tevinter. Why hide where you really come from?

Rook: Taash, it’s Tevinter. I’m an elf. You really find nothing wrong with me wearing flashy Rivain clothes in gloomy, dark Dock Town? Without anyone bothering me?

Taash: (grunts) I guess that’s true. You ever tried, though? What if they’re cool?

Rook: I don’t want to risk it. Not hearing “knife-ear” every minute and just pretending I belong to someone is better.

Taash: Oh. That’s vashedan. I’m sorry they treat your people like that.

Rook: It gets worse, but thanks.

Rook: Bel, did you adjust the rope yesterday?

Bellara: Oh, no, sorry. I didn’t have the time. The Nadas Dirthallen was acting up again. Sorry.

Rook: Hey, it’s okay! Take your time.

Bellara: We can do it together after we get back! What do you need the targets for, anyway?

Rook: I want to try throwing knives. No one’s ever taught me, and I saw a few Crows practising. If I could toss the bomb and then follow up with a knife throw, it would be much more effective than a timed bomb!

Bellara: Oh. Wait, hold on! That’s dangerous! What about collateral damage or friendly fire?

Rook: Eh. I’ll work those out on the fly. Don’t have much time to practice, anyway. But I’ll warn you if it helps?

Bellara: Uh… okay. I’ll tell the others to watch out for “sky bombs”.

Rook: O-o-oh, good name!

Bellara: Rook, how are your burns? Do you need more healing salves? Should I bring some to your room?

Rook: (laughs) Bel, you’re fine. I’m fine! I’ve dealt with worse when I was just starting out. Messing with all this magic is new, but we’ll get there.

Bellara: I still feel bad. I asked you for help.

Rook: And I agreed! So no hard feelings. It’s not like you wanted for the core to explode. Unless…

Bellara: Rook! Of course I didn’t!

Rook: I was just messing with you. But there you go, then.

Rook: Hey. What has an eye, but can’t see?

Davrin: Oh, please don’t.

Rook: Come o-on.

Davrin: Ugh. Fine. What?

Rook: A fsh!

Davrin: (sighs) I hate you, you know that? I already feel new wrinkles forming on my face!

Assan: (laughing squawk)

Rook: Aw, thanks, Assan! At least someone appreciates me around here.

Davrin: I can’t tell who’s worse: you or Assan.

Davrin: Hey, Rook…

Rook: If it’s about your bed, it was Assan!

Davrin: I… what?

Rook: (laughs) Sorry, what were you gonna say?

Davrin: No. Please, do go on. What was that about my bed?

Rook: I’ll never tell.

Davrin: Fine. Then I’ll look the other way when Assan tries to play with your jewelry next time.

Rook: He’s been doing that?

Davrin: Among other things. Talk.

Rook: (sighs) I’ve been… napping on your bed when you’re gone.

Davrin: You what?

Rook: It’s really soft! And dark. It’s like I’m in a cave. Reminds me of the ruins.

Davrin: Hm. Well. If you ask, I might let you switch with me sometimes. I have always wondered what sleeping in your room is like.

Rook: I’ll let you see for yourself. And… thanks, Davrin.

Davrin: Just don’t go around mentioning this to anyone, got it?

Rook: My lips are sealed.

#sorry long post #but these were fun to write #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age veilguard #datv #dragon age rook #rook laidir #oc: urchin #neve gallus #lucanis dellamorte #rookanis #rook x lucanis #taash #davrin #bellara lutare #mine #soups walkie talkie #my writing

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