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leviathanspain · 2 years ago

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will i see you again?

bill weasley x reader

synopsis: a one night stand in egypt has him reeling about what could’ve been. bill returns home to see his possibilities right in front of him

a/n: i wanted more bill x reader and there barely is any so i had to take matters into my own hands

part two

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you stared at the bump that was protruding from under your dress. summer was all year round in egypt, but as you got bigger, your dresses got tighter and shorter, and you knew that it was time to return home and face the undying music.

a consequence of a night you knew you would never forget. he was lucky, you thought, he would never have to know your world, carry your burdens.

only thing you regretted was he would be missing out on a child’s life. his child’s life. but there was also the possibility that he would’ve never given a damn to begin with.

your lips connected and all you could taste was the bitterness of his rum that he had chugged before letting you drag him away from the tantalizing bar maids. his hand mushed into your hair, and kissed you roughly. he was all teeth, and you felt your lip in between his. it made you feel the thrill of it all as his hands roamed your body. it was dark, people were dancing around you and you could hardly feel anything but him until you realized what this was going to lead to. you were anything but someone to fuck on the dance floor like this.

you grabbed the man and pulled him close as you ducked the arms of dancers and dashed towards the bathroom. you threw the door open, seeing a woman washing her hands. it was ill lit, a neon pink decal above the mirror was your only light as you kicked the girl out with a mere gaze.

you pulled the man back onto you before slamming the door shut with the weight of his body. he moaned as you kissed him, a hand reaching for the lock, you turned it and let yourself roam his body.

he was attractive, a redhead, which was new for you but you’d try anytbing once. he had a scar on his face that made you question everything but he was a great kisser, and that was all it seemed to matter in the moment.

he didn’t bother asking your name, and nor did you, all you knew him by was- “sir!” you screamed as he fucked you against the door. you were gripping his shoulder as he was holding you. you threw your head back and the thumping got louder. he was frantically fucking you, and you felt yourself tense up as you came, moaning loudly as you shook. you felt cum trail down your leg and realized he too had came.

“fuck.” you muttered as he set you down.

the house was the same. old, creaky, dusty, hateful and wretched. but it was home. and as you set your bags down, really taking it all back in, the familiar house elf from your childhood came to greet you.

“mistress y/n.” kreacher gazed at you with squinted eyes, taking in your pregnant self, “how was your trip.” it was more of a statement rather than a question so you ignored him as he stalked away with your bags.

your father was supposed to be here, but as you gazed at the clock, you realized that you had arrived earlier than you had expected. so you grabbed your remaining bag and hauled it up the steps, following kreacher to your old room, you passed the portrait of your grandmother and the silence was suddenly filled with a shriek of disdain.

“don’t tell me you got yourself impregnated unwed! a disgrace this great house has been brought, such a disgrace, like your father!” walburga shouted, and you sneered, “i missed you too, grandmother.”

as you looked at your room, everything left in its place as the night you had left it, you realized with a sinking feeling that you weren’t a teenager anymore.

you let a hand trace down your belly, you were a mother now.

as you toured your old belongings, you came across the pictures that you had pinned poorly to your budoir, pictures of you with harry and your father, a makeshift family, you had always said. another with your old friends, cedric before he passed and cho.

a knock at the door brought you out of your thoughts and you pulled your feelings back and turned to see your father at the doorway.

you sniffled, wiping your teary eyes, “sorry, it’s the hormones.” you excused and embraced sirius. sirius chuckled warmly, “don’t worry about it, kid. im just glad your home.”

you pulled back and sirius looked down at your belly, “you too.” he talked to the baby and you laughed.

sirius grabbed your arm and pulled you into the hallway, “molly has been preparing a dinner for your return at her home.” he looked at you, “i understand if you don’t want to attend, but harry will be there.”

and now you were apparating to the burrow, a long heavy coat over you as you had failed to realize too late that no one knew of your surprise.

as you opened the door to the weasley home, nothing but the warm scent of cinnamon and honey filled your nose as you walked in. shouts and banter could be heard from somewhere in the house and all eyes were on you suddenly.

molly was practically jumping up and down as she ran to hug you. as she hugged you, you realized that your belly was bumping against her, but molly didn’t seem to notice in her joy. you had always been like a second daughter to her, coming around so often after harry had set your father free.

“i’m so happy you’re back, my darling girl!” molly kissed your forehead and she laughed joyfully. she greeted sirius with a smile, “i just know your father is so happy that you’re home, he wouldn’t stop talking about it when you wrote that you would!” you turned to your father who was now a slight shade of pink.

before you could say anything else, harry, hermione and ron all ran up to you. harry was the first to hug you, and unlike molly, he was the first to notice you were different. harry frowned as he pulled back and you exhaled. you tugged the coat off reluctantly and your bump was now in full view.

the three looked down at you with shock and you smiled sheepishly, “surprise?”

hermione didn’t care as she hugged you, screaming joyfully that she was going to be aunt.

harry and sirius exchanged a series of looks and all ron could do was stare.

“blimey, y/n, but you certainly put some weight on abroad.” he hid his shock and hermione pulled away from you with a roll of her eyes, “she’s not fat, she’s pregnant, ronald!”

you chuckled, “it’s alright. trust me i thought i was getting fat too.”

molly was busying herself in preparing the dinner so she was the last to notice your bump. yet still the loudest in her congratulations.

it seemed that everyone, your father, harry, hermione and the rest of the weasley family all made the pointed question not to ask about the father.

wouldn’t be the first time someone from the noble house of black would be a single parent. sirius was with you, and that earned you some interesting nicknames growing up.

but you and your father liked to joke that you were like zeus and athena. a mere thought turned into a child, you didn’t need a mother if you had your father.

but after he was put away, you found the much needed influence of a girl in tonks, who had done the great deed of taking you in, even if she was barely an adult herself.

and after your father had returned during your fourth year, you spent time with him until you realized that the world of war had no place for you, and you had saved yourself the rest of the despair after cedric died.

“why didn’t anyone wake me for dinner?” a voice could be heard calling down the steps. you turned to molly who smiled, “bill is home from egypt. i was assuming he was tired after traveling all day, so i let him sleep.” she mentioned and you nodded.

out of all the weasley siblings, you had only met ron, the twins, ginny and the insufferable percy. the two eldest weasley brothers had been a total mystery to you, something out of legend as you hadn’t even seen pictures.

“hurry down now, bill.” molly called out, and as he finally rounded the corner towards the table, you realized with a wave of nausea who it was.

and seemingly, he did too.

bill hadn’t bothered to properly greet his family when he came home. it would all be in due time, he excused, and made his way to his bedroom where he would continue to wallow in the sorrow.

it had been just a few months since that night but it was like she had been a siren, a woman untouchable that he only desired more of. she consumed his thoughts, his dreams, even his nightmares.

bill had to leave egypt to escape her, or at least the thought of her. but back home, it seemed to intensify even more.

all he could remember were her piercing eyes, a sight he would never forget.

as he heard clamor downstairs bill sat up and stretched. he saw fred exiting the room and he stopped him, “what’s going on?”

fred shrugged, “mum said sirius and his daughter were coming over for dinner.” bill waved a hand as his brother left and threw himself into the pillows with a yawn.

he tried to make himself comfortable but the smell of the food had snaked its way up to his room, and now all he could feel was the pain of his empty stomach.

so with a sigh, bill pulled himself together and set down to greet his family and the guests.

you gulped as the silence seemed to drag on.

“bill?” you asked and he nodded. the same man from the nightclub was standing in front of you. in a pair of sweats, ruffled hair and a cheap hoodie, he was standing there.

same facial scar, same hanging earring. the father of your child was bill weasley.

bill was astounded. hearing his name from your lips had him flown back into a muddle of daydreams. he had imagined this moment before. meeting tou again, and professing his love to you.

but the shock of seeing you with his own two eyes for the second time was enough to send him back into a slumber.

you had stood up and he had noticed it. a bulging piece of evidence from under your dress, bills mind went to all the possibilities.

what if the baby is mine? was she pregnant during and i had missed it? have i gone so crazy that i’m imagining her face on other bodies?

“between the looks of you two, i’m assuming you two know each other?” fred let out a whistle and you and bill looked at each other before answering at the same time.

“yes.”

“no.” you echoed.

fred and george both cringed and suddenly things became awkward. molly caught their hint and clapped a hand, “dinner will resume in twenty minutes. let’s all have tea in the living room!”

your father looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you shrugged slightly as he was dragged off.

bill went outside, and a cigarette appeared in his hand. he was nervous, seeing you was too much. seeing you pregnant was coma worthy, and how he was still standing was an achievement.

you followed him and stood away slightly as you realized he was smoking.

silence once again, and you cleared your throat as you moved a hand down your belly, “it’s yours.”

“what?” bill was too busy trying to focus on his cigarette and missed your comment.

you repeated, “the baby. it’s yours.”

bill looked at your belly and back at you, “i know it’s a shock. trust me, this wasn’t in my plans. but we didn’t even know each others names and i-“

bill was too busy gazing at your belly than to listen to your rant, “may i?” he held out a hand, and you stopped mid sentence to grab his hand. a reluctant step forward, you set his hand on your belly, “it’s too early to feel anything but-“

bill gasped, there it was. a small kick just on his hand. you had felt it too, and your shock was mutal.

bill tossed his cigarette and smiled as both hands grabbed your belly, “wow.” he whispered.

you looked at bill, “bill,”

bill looked at you, “y/n.”

you raised an eyebrow and bill laughed, “how could i forget the name of sirius black’s rebellious daughter who ran off into the night?”

“you knew it was me?”

bill shook his head, “i never saw a picture, i just knew of you.”

you scoffed, “i guess i could say the same thing.”

bill pulled back his hands and was now crossing them, “i understand why you kept this to yourself. a million chances and it wouldn’t be this lucky.”

you nodded, “if you don’t want to be involved that’s fine. wouldn’t be the first time i do something alone.” you looked down at your belly and held it before looking at the sun setting just overhead.

bill held out a hand, “i want to be. i want to be a father. and i want to be with you.” he was pink, a shade of embarrassment as he realized what he had said.

“really?”

bill nodded, “it might sound incredibly odd but- i just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. i left egypt, quit my job because you were haunting me. knowing this, knowing how perfect this turned out to be makes me realize one thing.”

you raised an eyebrow, “what is it?”

bill smiled, “that you were true to your word.”

as zippers were heard being zipped, you fixed your hair. the panting of the man was heard quietly as he looked at you once more, “will i see you again?” words slurred just so slightly that you laughed.

“i hope that for your sake, you do.” you left him right after that, leaving the man to fade into the darkness just as the blasting music met your ears.

#bill weasley angst #bill weasley fluff #bill weasley smut #bill weasley imagines #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley #hogwarts imagines #hogwarts smut #hogwarts angst #hogwarts fluff #weasley x reader #ron weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader

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theshotsheardacrossworlds · 5 months ago

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Jealousy

Fill for #7 on this list featuring poor Rolan watching his fiancée get hit on at a ball. He decides to do something about it. NSFW.

“Rolan, at least try to smile, sweetie.” His fiancée’s mother lightly chided the Master of Ramazith’s Tower. He, Amelie, and her mother were attending yet another boring ball hosted by idiots. He was already in a sour mood when they arrived. There’s been a setback in repairing the glass observation dome at the tower. There was a parade of rude customers in the shop today. These new dress boots are hurting my damn feet. The wine here is piss.

But then he saw something that made him seethe.

His beautiful, perfect fiancée was speaking to a human noble who was standing too close.

Too, too close.

Amelie very clearly knew the gentleman, chuckling softly at something he said.

He had not felt it in the months, not since their engagement was announced and her companions went their separate ways.

A dark, ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach.

She is mine. MINE.

“Rolan, there’s…oh dear. Off he goes.” The countess laughed, shaking her head, watching her future son-in-law stride with purpose across the ballroom.

Heart pounding in his chest, Rolan downed the rest of his wine and placed the chalice on a tray before resuming his mission.

Yes, mission.

To save my beloved from…someone she knows and is happily speaking to.

Turning her head, the half-elf caught his glance and grinned. “Oh Stannik, this is my fiancé Rolan—”

He as discreetly as possible wrapped an arm around her ample waist, his hand resting on a hip. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” he began as politely as possible. “But may I borrow you, my dear?”

Borrow.

As if I should have to borrow my future wife from an ingrate like this “Stannik.”

As if I should have to be gracious when he was CLEARLY flirting with her.

As if I should have to be a gentleman at all times…

Unaware of her fiancée’s inner turmoil, Amelie smiled at him. “Of course, love.” She looked at the human and nodded. “Please excuse me.”

Pleasantries out of the way FINALLY, Rolan guided her out of the ballroom.

“Rolan, is something wrong?”

There must be a private room somewhere…

“Are you alright, love?”

I am FINE AND DANDY, sweetling.

There!

He hastily unlocked the door, which turned out to be a washroom. Both now inside, he locked the door.

For privacy, of course.

Amelie barely opened her mouth before his lips crashed into hers.

Mine.

My Amelie.

She is mine.

All mine.

Forever mine.

My intellect, my talent, my heart, my soul, my body…all belong to her.

She is mine as I am hers.

Breaking the kiss and completely breathless, she placed her hands on his shoulders. “Rolan, what has gotten into you?”

He truly wished to say, “You.”

Instead, he huffed, “He was flirting with you, Mia! And I was standing across the room! Watching him! Flirt with you!” His hands stayed firmly on her hips, which he noticed were fuller than they were previously. She told me yesterday that she’s the happiest she’s ever been. Happy and content with our life together.

She blinked. “Was he?”

Rolan groaned. “Darling, really!”

“How was I supposed to know? He’s always been nice to talk to at these things, but I never thought he would flirt with me.” She frowned. “I’m sorry?”

FUCK.

You idiot.

You fool.

You utter swine!

“No, no, no darling. That’s not what I meant. I’m not blaming you in the slightest. I simply—”

A manicured nail touched his lips, silencing him. Any trace of sadness and confusion in her golden eyes was gone and replaced with amusement. And lust. Gods. “You simply wished to remind Stannik that I’m your fiancée and not his? That I’m going to marry you and not him?” She closed the admittedly small gap between them, her body flushed against his. Hands once again on his shoulders, her lips curled into a smile. More like a smirk, you saucy little— “That I’ve given you my all and not him?”

He nodded. “Y-yes.”

“Did you want to take me in the middle of the ballroom, my love?” she whispered against his lips. “Scream that I’m your Mistress of Ramazith’s Tower?” Amelie captured him in a quick kiss before she let out a squeak as he gripped her hips and forced her backwards against the sink.

Chuckling heartily, Rolan pawed at the hem of her gown. A light and airy rose pink gown with various embroidered summer flowers. Another piece from Astarion. “No, but I do want to take you here, sweetheart.” He began to pull at her smalls, getting off and placing them on the counter. He then grunted as he undid his trousers. “Going to show you…how much I…” How much I love you. How much I desire you. How much I need you.

Bringing his face to hers, she kissed him slowly as he lined himself to her entrance, gasping at how bloody wet she is. Zurgan, she’s going to be the death of me. Moans escaped their lips as his ridged member slid inside her. “Rolan…take me, love…”

As you wish.

He was going much faster than he would have been if they were at home and not in a washroom at a ball, much to his dismay. Still though, I’ll make her feel wonderful. How could I not? With a few deep thrusts, he came just as she did. His hold on her remained firm as she was more than a little unsteady. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, sweetling. I’ve got you.”

Long, soft arms around his neck, his fiancée nodded wordlessly, still catching her breath.

I will always have you, dearest. Always.

“I do believe this is the longest time we’ve gone with you cleaning us after lovemaking, my handsome wizard.” Amelie teased.

Gods, I love seeing her like this---happy, carefree, full of joy.

He grimaced and then muttered the spell. “I barely call whatever that was lovemaking, sweetheart. It was barely a fuck.”

A wave of giggles erupted from her as she kissed all over his cheeks and mouth.

Perfectly content being in a washroom with her future husband.

Certainly better than going back to that bloody ball.

#rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan nation #amelie wildheart #amelie x rolan #half elf tav #sorcerer tav #set post game #countess luci wildheart appears in this fic #plus size tav #chubby tav #is mia as oblivious as agi? yes

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a-very-sparkly-nerd · 5 months ago

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the night you danced like you knew our lives would never be the same

Inspired by this post.

Rayla and Ezran dance at her and Callum's wedding. (PS; accidentally posted this on my sideblog, so I deleted it and copy and pasted it here)

Very few things in Callum’s life were his own.

His staff had once been Ibis’s, office once Viren’s, seat at the council’s table once the former High Mage’s, too. Things that had been lost and passed down along with the bloodshed and betrayal, just as everything seemed to be.

But Rayla was his. Not “his” in a creepy ownership way, but his in that his heart belonged to her, and hers him. His in that they were finally connected in every sense of the word, connected in a way that even life, fate, and history books could never twist.

So even now, with silver cuffs circling her horns and a matching ring finally on his finger, Callum wouldn't– couldn't –let her go far, keeping an arm circled around her waist and occasionally dropping his head to her shoulder, even going so far as to press a kiss to her neck when enough eyes were off them.

He could understand why the elf was popular, in high demand; he'd married her, after all, but it didn't irk him any less. Rayla was the daughter of two Dragonguard and one herself, had returned the Dragon Prince home, had saved the world twice now, and managed to capture the heart of the–apparently–infamously picky and hard-to-please Crown Prince and High Mage of Katolis.

Visiting dignitaries kept asking to dance with her, offer a drink, and while it was nice to see relations between the Pentarchy and Xadia truly blossoming, Callum really just wished everyone would leave so he could be alone with his wife–his wife! He could still scarcely believe it; it still felt like she'd be ripped from his fingers, like the universe decided they had to save the whole entire world again and wanted to hurt her just for the hell of it.

The last time she'd strayed from his side had been back at the Starscraper, the Celestial elves claiming she had to undergo some trial on her own, and the next thing Callum knew, the damn cube had been dropping from his hand and Rayla taking its place, all hell unleashed in the moments after.

So, no. He could hardly stand to let her go far anymore, not when she'd been gods-know-where all on her own for two whole years, not when his unabashed love for her was clear as day and so easily taken advantage of. If she was in his sight, in his arms, he could keep her safe. That's what he had to keep telling himself, at least.

And, yeah, Callum appreciated that it was completely paranoid and irrational; he couldn't very well get rid of every threat in existence, but the rush of calm when her sturdy warmth was in his arms, the trauma, didn't really adhere to reason. And she didn’t seem to have any inclination to go far from him, either, so it worked out just fine.

Read more on AO3!

#tdp #the dragon prince #fanfic #fanfiction #my fic #gods i love ezrayla as sibs #rayllum #tdp ezran #tdp rayla #also a little bit of ezris because i said so #chet #cube hostage exchange theory

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thranduilsperkybutt · 1 year ago

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☾ the gold & the rust ☼

Pic Sources: 1 | 2 | 3

Pairings: Astarion Ancunín/Tav!Reader Warnings: NSFW; angst/comfort smut; yearning; Astarion is not ascended; mentions of past canon-typical trauma/abuse; the struggle of healing; Astarion has racing thoughts and you can't tell me otherwise; canon-typical biting; it's not about the sex it's about the feelings; spoilers for the endgame Word Count: 7,168 words Reader Gender: Female Author: Meg Summary: You’ve told him you will find him some cure for his darkness; you are set on performing a feat no one in history has ever achieved, all for him, but he wonders if it is as futile as the sun laboring to join the moon. Maybe he is destined to forever look upon you with the knowledge that when your bright, beckoning light inevitably burns out, he will be left with only his darkness, alone again... A/N: Look I blame Hozier for making too many Astarion-coded songs that make me sob my eyes out while thinking about the implications of his "good" ending. Astarion has literally changed my brain chemistry.

The sun cusps over the horizon, its soft tendrils spreading over a murky sky. Beckoning the night’s fleeing retreat with a gentle violence as the day demands more territory in each passing second. Sparse hues of blue manage to cling to some lingering clouds that have yet to meet the threateningly beautiful pink and orange sky.

Astarion reaches out from behind the heavy curtain and his darkness, towards the pillar of light that breaks into the privacy of your bedchamber. Pale fingertips dip hesitantly into the light, as if he could believe everything that has occurred over this past week has been only a dream. It takes but a moment for the evidence of his reality to meet him when his skin sparks and dusts under the light of day.

He flinches back, hissing lowly from the burning pain of it. Glaring down at his flexing hand as if the disdain in his eyes could change the fates that have turned the thread of his life into this ever-knotted thing. He’d never imagined he would miss having that damned illithid parasite in his head, yet here he was. Yearning to reach for morning again. Wishing to experience a dawn that may never welcome him again.

He hears the stirring moan, soft and drenched in exhaustion, and dares a glance away from his own skin and stinging regret. Stilling entirely, Astarion hopes he has not awoken you just yet. He does not wish for you to see him like this, in this state of self-pitiful detestation. Though he knows you may yet love him despite having seen it, showing the reality of his mind beyond his comfortable performances is easier said than done. Tension drips from his shoulders, if only a little bit, as he watches your body relax into the cushions with your blissfully ignorant slumber.

The sigh at his lips is shaky. Mournful. He looks back towards the sunlight and remembers how it had felt when it had forgotten how to punish him like this. He doesn’t know which is crueler: to have never felt it at all, or for it to be ripped away from him like this. In the brief time he was granted to finally walk in the sun again after the past two centuries, Astarion can’t help the fresh anger that bubbles up in him at the taking away of it. He didn’t deserve this--- any of it.

Truthfully, he has no clear memory of how the sun had felt to him when he was simply a mortal elf and not a spawn belonging to a master. It had been so long ago; memories fade over time when drenched in horror, he’s discovered well since. Still, something tells Astarion he loved the day even then as he did now. He’s certain he had always loved the heat of it--- the color.

The way it filters through your hair when you stand in the path of daylight, kissing the edges of your skin in a way he forever wished to share with it. It had been warmer and kinder to him than he had ever expected to receive, somewhat like you. You were undeniably beautiful in the light of day.

Even standing within the finality of the sunset of your journey together--- foes vanquished, coated in sweat and victory--- he had thought the same.

But nothing good ever lasts, he’s learned. At least, nothing but you. Astarion wonders if he would still grieve this much if he were to never have known the day at all. Would he know what he was missing? Would a piece of its cosmic heat have whispered of you to him, even then?

He can’t truly comprehend a world in which his fate had not become so intimately entangled with yours. Perhaps that is the worst part, how he knows he would always brave this feeling of loss to gain what he has with you. In the end of it all, he knows he has made the right choice to have this over the temptations of that infernal ritual’s power.

Despite that knowledge, Astarion truly hadn’t expected you to run after him when the lingering illithid protections dissipated from his being and the sun began its remorseless burning again. He had scampered away from the docks in an abject desperation, attempting to flee from the light’s betrayal. Astarion was the objectively faster party, but you had found him eventually--- you always seem to find him--- after he had taken to cowering behind wooden crates that cast a meager shadow of solace. He had been shaking, cradling himself, closed off entirely from the world as that sickeningly familiar taste of how things had been before--- back when he was still Cazador’s--- came flooding back onto his palate. His mind had become drenched in a fear he had thought could never claim him again.

You’d cut through all of it with your worried call of his name. Plunging him into the magical darkness you cast upon the both of you to shield him from the sun’s assault with such a thoroughness that not even you could see through it. His call of your own name sounded far too broken on his tongue for his own liking, but you’d followed the sound towards his outstretched arms all the same.

Dragging him up into yours, only a sliver of the calamity in his soul dissipated when you promised him blindly, “Come, quickly, I’ll get you someplace safe.”

Despite his better efforts, his voice shook as he allowed you to clumsily drape your cloak over his curls in darkness, unable to bring the deflecting humor to his voice that he so achingly wished would return, “Darling, you are a sight for sore eyes; or, you would be, I’m sure, if I could see you.”

“I told you this would come in handy,” you shot back, and he had been grateful for your effort at ignoring the bittersweet grief that so clearly drenched his soul in favor of reminding him of how he had teased you for spending a good amount of your gold on this very cloak when you’d all first arrived in the city.

His breath remained shallow, but his hand tightened over yours in what he hoped you knew was gratefulness when you finished ensuring the fabric had covered any of his exposed skin, “I shall never question any of your purchases again, on my honour.”

“Of course you will, Astarion,” he heard the slight worry in your voice as much as you tried to hide it. He felt the spell waning and with it the returning disorientation that even slight sunlight left him in. You had grasped his arm firmly and spoken with a confident determination that he suspected was as much for your comfort as it was for his, “Now, get ready to move quickly and keep your head down; the dark won’t last much longer.”

You were good for your promises, he’d learned over his time travelling with you, and that had brought some small comfort as the day reemerged before he’d had a chance to respond. Then, you were maneuvering him through the city, towards the darkness of Sharess’ Caress, with such a precision that he might think it more important than any quest you’ve had thus far if he hadn’t known better. Gripping him tightly the whole way, Astarion still has not dared tell you how grateful he was for it--- for you, surprising him against his better judgement every time with how you simply are.

It has been nearly a week now of you coming to his side in the night and yet some part of him still expected the other metaphorical shoe to drop. For you to come to your senses and tell him that you simply cannot carry on like this with him.

He wanted to believe you. Gods, how he wants it. Yet, he still felt like a fool to think he’s earned some love such as yours. He wants to believe he deserves the way you look at him like he can be what you see him to be. It’s too dangerous for his heart to invest in the thought that he maybe can. That maybe he is, already.

For you to look at him and tell him, “We’ll find it together. I promise we’ll find a way for you to walk in the sun again,” with such determination--- for you to be someone who genuinely believed the both of you could achieve it---

Well, you simply must be mad. He doesn’t know how else to explain these little ideas of yours.

Astarion figures you’ll continue to be as much a surprise to him as you’ve made a habit of in the past… and then there was that persistently annoying optimism of yours to contend with.

But this?

He doesn’t think that you understand the truth of the choice you’re making, to stay with him. To love him. How could you know it and still look upon him with such eager hopefulness as you do? He barely understands it at all himself, and he’s had centuries to come to terms with what he’s become. Forgive him if it’s a bit difficult to begin to understand just what “being something better than what Cazador made him” truly means.

He understands how much he wants you, though. He wants it all. The life that was stolen from him, the opportunities, but mostly for you to be there--- here. Where you’ve not wavered an inch from his side; you’ve given him no reason to think you plan on leaving anytime soon.

Why does he still fear it so much, though?

Some part of him had thought--- hoped foolishly, rather--- that killing Cazador would somehow fix two centuries of torment. Fix him. In the brief time after, he discovered that it hadn’t. In his elongated struggle, he worries it never will.

Nightmares still plague him, he still jumps at shadows, he still has thoughtless fear dart through his mind before he remembers again that his former master is well and truly dead. That simply existing in happiness was the rebellious proof of his victory over a man who he hopes will not haunt him forever. When he is with you, Astarion almost believes that Cazador won’t. It is some charm you have bewitched over him surely. Your ability to calm this chaos in him with soft eyes and patient hands that do not seek to own him, yet he eagerly chooses to belong there all the same.

Astarion still has trouble loving you like he knows you deserve to be loved. There are times when he can barely stand physical touch, though craves to want yours. And you understand the duality of the contradiction in him, taking only ever what he is willing to give.

Sometimes he thinks you too understanding, with little concern of how this affects you. He’s always baffled by how selfless you can be sometimes, particularly when you’re taking in strays. He has come to admit, if only to himself, that he does see the irony in his complaints. Moreso, he’s terrified of what will happen when that seemingly endless well of care you hold within you for others inevitably runs out.

What will happen when you can no longer bear his eccentricities? The compromises? The sacrifice that his double-edged love requires of you? Will there come a time when all he offers as part of being in this real love becomes too overwhelming?

Astarion had fallen in love with you in the easy warmth of sunlight. Looking upon you now as the dawn creeps against your sleeping form, his heart aches as he wonders if he can truly doom you to a life in his complicated darkness.

Selfishly, one thought consumes his mind--- he knows he wants to. He would want you, no matter the cost to you both. You have told him over and over again how you want the same but, Gods, he can’t figure out what he has done for this sliver of joy and it eats away at him in the dark. It’s unreasonable what he asks you to give him, but he’ll take it all the same. Bitterly he thinks, if he were a better man--- the man you see him to be--- he might even feel guilty for it.

For now, all he feels is the monstrous need to escape these racing thoughts in his head.

When will you walk away to join the sunlight for good? Hells forbid the answer his weary heart is preparing for ever be spoken from your lips.

Astarion hopes the day never comes when you choose to go where he cannot follow. He wants to spend all his days traipsing after you, wherever you may lead, no matter how much he may complain about it for show.

Astarion wants to spend all of it, whatever it may be, whatever he’s got left, with you. He’s terrified of the day that you change your mind on him. Fearful that you may one day decide these sleepless nights with a vampire spawn who can offer you nothing more than his undying love and sarcastic quips are nothing compared to the full life you could have with someone else. This theoretical, easy life in the sun that he dares to think he is stealing from you by loving you as he does.

Well, he supposes that reclaiming Cazador’s palace is always an option, rather than his other fantasy of burning it to the ground. Spending an eternity draping you in finery and keeping you to himself within a palace feels like something he should want, but he can’t help to think that it would be no better than making his love for you into a somewhat prettier cage.

More than he wants you, he needs you to freely want him. He’d be tempted to take up praying again if he had any faith that it could solidify your love for him forever, but deep down he doesn’t want heavenly intervention. He wants you to want to be with him--- to choose him willingly and without any regret for what the inevitable sacrifice will be. That understanding is, perhaps, what makes his heart swell with this bittersweet glory over all else.

You’ve told him as much and what your lips did not confess to him willingly, your body has whispered to his with an adoration that threatened to scorch him in much the same way of your beloved daylight. You’ve told him you will find him some cure for his darkness; you are set on performing a feat no one in history has ever achieved, all for him, but he wonders if it is as futile as the sun laboring to join the moon. Maybe he is destined to forever look upon you with the knowledge that when your bright, beckoning light inevitably burns out, he will be left with only his darkness, alone again--- this being the most horrible realization of all to have come to him tonight.

Hells, how desperately he wants to believe you, but Astarion has always had difficulty getting his hopes up. He hasn’t been known to bet on losing dogs, and he certainly doesn’t bet on his own odds these days.

But he figures you have more than enough hope for the both of you.

A minute smile quirks his troubled lips at that thought, watching your fingers twitch in your slumber. He shouldn’t doubt you as he does; you’ve given him everything. His freedom, his salvation--- even from himself, when he hadn’t known how much he needed it. Things he can never repay, and yet you’ve never asked him for a repayment. He owes you everything, but you’ve been adamant in tempering his sense of obligation. You’ve reminded him that everything he's done, he’s chosen for himself.

You’ve only ever asked him to love you, and that you have had for far longer than you know--- far before you ever actually plucked up the adorable courage to ask him for it.

He has come to love you more than he’s ever loved anything for as far back as he can remember. The depths of his adoration could scare even him with the raw vulnerability he is left with when it comes to you. How beautifully all his plans and plots for self-preservation have backfired upon him, though. He would not have you destroy his peace of mind in any other way.

Maybe one day, he’ll admit to you exactly when his nice, simple plan truly began to fall apart. The idea dances in his mind, of how you’ll react to that particular information. You’d hang on his every word, he thinks--- it would be rather pathetic of you, if he weren’t in much the same state.

Gripping the curtain, Astarion finally deems it time to push the budding light out of his darkness. If it is to be the only place he may have you for all of your days, he’ll make his darkness a sacred place. He decides he shall worship you in it--- all other gods have forsaken him already. Until the day his little hero saves him once again, he will indulge in this darkness with you.

The patriars nipping at your heels for guidance, the unwashed masses of the Gate clamoring for their glimpse of his hero, even your other traveling companions--- none of them shall invade upon this sanctuary.

He moves towards the bed, returning to you. Exhausted from a late day in the city and an even later night of enjoying his company, you’ve taken to claiming sleep when you can these days. The evidence of your labor rests in the dark circles under your eyes. He doesn’t think he could stop you from your philanthropic efforts assisting the city’s reconstruction even if he tried.

Still, right now, in these hours you are only his.

He dips his weight onto the bed and lays himself alongside you, pulling you tenderly against him as his lips graze your neck. Truly, he knows it is cruel to wake you, but he doesn’t know how he can manage to miss someone like this when you are right before him. It is as if his very soul yearns for you. He melts against the rhythmic flutter of your heart, and it sounds more like his home than the palace he has spent the last two hundred years in ever could.

Teeth graze against your carotid pulse, and you stir slightly. He hums into the soft warmth of your flesh, biting without intent to draw blood--- though the thought of it does cross his mind. He has never recovered from the taste of you. Cold fingers curl into your bare hip, dragging you slightly closer at the feeling of your waking movements.

Your pulse picks up against his lips. Astarion hears the patter of your heart in your ribs as his tongue drags up your throat towards your ear. Your breath hitches when his lips graze your jaw, but your eyes remain closed.

His lips twitch with mirth at your effort to have him do as he pleases.

“Quite the show, my little love, but I know you’re awake,” Astarion murmurs, slurred from the back of his throat like a man lost in thorough indulgence. Drunk with the scent of you on his skin, he leaves another faux bite on your jaw as you squirm beneath his assault.

“Shall you feed again, is that it?” yawning, your hand rubs at your eyes before you blink them open. When his hands run up your sides, your answering shiver reminds him of that first night he’d fed from you. Lit only by the campfire, you had allowed him to take too much before stopping him, even then.

He chuckles breathlessly, shifting the covers to invade your space more completely as you come back to your consciousness piece by piece, “As tempting as it is when you offer oh so nicely to be my treat, I hunger for something more satisfying this morn.”

“Ah,” you gasp from sleep-drenched shock, reacting on a delay as he brings his knee up to strategically push your legs open. Allowing you to feel the growing length of him through the thin linens between you, he levels you with his weight in a slow grind. Blinking up at him, your eyes focus in a darkness lit only by the dim glow of dawn beyond the curtains when he languidly rolls his hips against yours, “A-Astarion---!” He is watching you peculiarly, with a glint of some unreadable darkness in his eye that you can’t quite place. The breathless whimper at your lips sends that warmth of yours straight down his spine, “What’s gotten into you?”

He hasn’t had you since that night he had been so drenched with adoration that he’d taken you on his own grave and truly confessed how he loved you. Ever since then it had been battle and struggle, one after another, in your pursuit to stop the Absolute for good--- constantly ensnared in some new concern that stole any potential moment he could’ve used to steal you away from duty. After the final battle, Astarion had been so dejected by the return of his vampiric limitations, and you had been near constantly pulled away to assist the public---

There was the part of him that enjoyed indulging in the easy-going intimacy you offered him. The lack of pressure to perform was something he had not yet fully become accustomed to; a certain comfortability that has been cultivated between the two of you over the time you’ve been together. The sense of knowing that he is well and truly safe with you. Despite this understanding, he wished to freely want you in every way he was capable of.

And, oh, how he has come to want you over these last few days.

It was so mindlessly simple and immensely complex. He can barely put into words to describe the ways he wants this. Carnally, intimately, wholly, eternally--- nothing is a sufficient descriptor. Maybe in that vast library that your wizard, Gale, insists on boasting about showing him one of these days, Astarion will find an all-encompassing word for how he wants to have you forever.

As it stands currently, he settles on the comfortable seduction that has become second nature to him, “Actually, I was quite hoping to have gotten into you by now, lover.”

He’ll never get over how you melt for him; how you fall for every word. He watches the heat he stokes behind your eyes, the flex of your fingertips where they lay beside your head on the pillow.

Then, he descends upon you.

A practiced mouth parts yours as his cool hand takes the long route from your waist to your throat, indulging in the feeling of everything in-between. He sets your skin on edge in his wake, stirring a familiar feeling that he was entirely too good at urging from you to settle low in your stomach.

Gentle fingers find his hair and he feels the scrape of your nails against his scalp when he finally rests his hand on your throat to hook his thumb beneath your jaw, kissing you deeper. Passionately. As he always does, Astarion excels at unravelling you in every way, but you have no idea how much you manage to rebuild him with your every touch.

Your body welcomes him completely, urging him closer in ways he doubts you are consciously aware of. His hips rock into yours with each passing second that your heat spreads through him, feeling himself grow harder at your soft moans that meet his eager mouth. When you tug slightly at his hair, he lets a cautioning sound fall from his tongue onto yours, but you only nip defiant teeth at him in response.

And then he’s pushing your hands down, captured at the wrists by his. Pinning you to the pillows while he draws back just enough to catch the breath that is coming, labored, from the both of you.

“I’m sorr---” you begin, remorselessly.

“Telling a pretty lie won’t save you from me,” Astarion leans close once more, dragging his skin against your cheek as he kisses a trail towards your ear, feeling you test his grip at your wrists with a half-hearted tug. “I do believe all of this ‘Hero of Baldur’s Gate’ business has kept you from the more important happenings of our bedchamber. It would be a terrible pity if you continued to neglect your baser desires when I am in such a mood to indulge you.”

“Are you sure you’re talking about me?” you tease and he feigns a mild shock at the insinuation that his own behavior is the reason you’ve yet to bed him.

“I’ll have you know I am all indulgence, unlike you, darling hero,” but when he leans away, your eyes capture his. Reading him too easily, you know something is wrong as his carefully constructed mask falters, if only for an instant. It’s all you need, and Astarion regrets losing himself for the moment as he watches your softening gaze survey him.

“Is that so…?” You’re left guessing at what troubles him, “If you missed me, you could’ve just said so. The city can survive a few days.”

“Does the city know that?” it would be so easy to leave it there, to let you think you’ve figured him out once again. The anxiety in his veins won’t allow it, however, and his mouth speaks before his mind can instruct him to shut up, “Tell me, darling, that you won’t regret it someday… Of course, you won’t--- but I would like to hear it all the same.”

He looks down on you with growing vulnerability, confidence cracking. That detestable anxiety that has plagued him all evening coming to the forefront of his mind once more. Crimson irises swirl with a reckless uncertainty and it reminds you of how he had looked upon you when confessing his initial manipulations in those early days of your relationship.

“Regret what?” the confusion on your face nearly has him losing his nerve, but he chokes back the urge to dismiss you so quickly.

“I don’t want you to regret… choosing me,” his voice is clearly pained at the thought, cold hands at your wrists tightening like he is afraid you will run from him should he let you go. “Choosing us, I mean. I am well aware of all you shall endure if you spend each painstaking night of forever with me. It is a price I was willing to pay for my freedom, but you… I--- I know you have said that I am what you want, but I don’t want this to be one of your regrets. I don’t want you to resent me for keeping you here---”

Astarion was constantly preparing himself for the ending of all things; it is a part of his nature that you wish you could soothe with simple words alone. It will be much more difficult to satisfy than that and you know it, but you intend to spend all your years working towards earning his unwavering faith in you. This trust that he has so endearingly placed upon your soul, when every piece of his own screamed at you for doing the same. You doubt he knows how, if you were to someday break him in the way he so fears, you feel it would be as if you were destroying a part of yourself.

You cut off his rambling with a firm, “Astarion!” like it hurts you to hear him talk of himself in this way. His mouth snaps shut as you search him for the cause of this doubt, “Have I done something to make you think I will have these regrets you worry of?”

“Well, no, but---”

When you pull at his grip this time, he wordlessly releases you, only for you to reach up to him to drag him down into a tight embrace, “Then, why is your heart so troubled?”

“I---” he chokes on the word and how shallowly his lungs fill with you holding him so securely in your arms. Maybe it is better that you hold him so closely that you cannot see how he crumbles against you, dissolving into your grasp as if you are the only thing holding him together when he confesses, “I know what it is to live this life of darkness. You are so---! You deserve everything I can’t give you, starting with a life surrounded by the beauties of daylight.” His head turns, misty eyes catching your worried stare. He regrets the distress he’s caused you, but moreso he needs to hear your reassurances that his mind has gotten the better of him in this. He has never hoped so pitifully that he was wrong.

“Astarion,” heart swelling at the loss in his eyes; he looks to be mourning for you. As your thumb smoothes along the lines of his jaw, you come to realize the depth of his lingering sadness, “tell me, what good is the sun? The sun cannot care for me as you do or feel my love in return. A life of pure sunlight is worthless if it means living it without you.” You watch his breath catch in his chest, a stifled sob of his relief that he does not give into so easily.

His voice comes strained and nearly sounds like he’s on the verge of arguing with you, “You so obviously will miss it! You talk of finding a way for me to ‘walk in the sun again,’ but what if it’s impossible? What if we waste our lives searching for something that was never attainable? When you realize it, I wouldn’t have you look differently upon me.”

“Is that it? You think I talk about finding you a cure for my own benefit?” you scoff, before leaning towards him to place a soft kiss against frowning lips. He lingers in the middle ground as you depart just enough to demand he listen, “I only think of you, Astarion. Since the moment I first saw you, you’ve consumed my mind, body and soul. The sun was made for you--- and you’d know it if you ever had the privilege of seeing yourself in it. I only want for you to be happy.”

The arch of his brow tells you he still doesn’t fully believe you, despite his attempt at a half-hearted joke through the tightness in his throat, “I do quite enjoy when you call me beautiful.” It’s more than that, and you both know it, but if he were to ask you right now to name one thing about the light of day that you know you will sorely miss, it would be never seeing him in it again.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh at him with a lopsided smile, “Oh, my silly vampire, I love you much more than the sun. Without you, I would not want any of it. In fact, you can take the moon and stars, too, while you’re at it---”

He cuts you off with the eclipse of his mouth on yours, hands spread along your ribs to dig eager fingertips into your skin as he pulls you in as close as he can manage. The kiss is more languidly meaningful than the last; he intends on burning the feeling of you into his mind to replace the torrid thoughts there. If your words had not been enough to convince him, you hope the way you receive his body with your own can. Every part of you calls to him, blood and sinew, breath and bone, flesh and spirit.

Maybe it’s clear to him now, that you are as intertwined as the earth and sea. Should the tide of your soul ever depart from his shores, he can rest in the knowledge that your reunion is inevitable. As far as you are concerned, you are fated in such a way that not even the gods above or the devils below can alter the course of how your body fits beneath his--- how you shall always welcome him home.

You will have him, for as long as he will have you.

When he finally withdraws, he dares not go far, eyes blinking open slowly in a melancholy acceptance, “How can I be so fortunate?”

Brushing the mess of white curls behind his pointed ear, you hum at the shiver that runs through him when your fingertips graze the skin there, “I don’t know, but it’s about time things start going our way, don’t you think?”

“That it is,” his groaned agreement softens the worry in his eyes and he melts into the stroke of your hand against his temple.

“What you should be worrying about, Astarion, is whether you’ll regret choosing me when I’m all old, wrinkled, and grey,” it’s only half of a tease, and you hope he can’t see through the smile on your lips. The thought has been on your mind for some time after realizing that the two of you were going to somehow survive everything you’ve endured these past months.

“Darling,” he scoffs, nudging his nose with yours, soothing you as much as you do him, “knowing how well trouble finds you, we’ll both be long dead before either of us need worry much about that.” His lips graze yours, when he gives you his earnest answer, “For our sake, I hope to spend every moment we have left with you, watching every sunset and sunrise we are granted until the end takes us both.”

It's more complicated than that, but most real things usually are.

What isn’t complicated is how you feel beneath him, tongue tracing his teeth as he ravishes you. There is a completeness that comes in the way of his body fitting against yours. This reassurance in your touch will never falter. Even if your mind were to eventually escape you, he will know you were always his. If the world were to fall away in this moment and leave nothing but this room, Astarion would happily float out his days with you here forevermore.

He loves you. You love him.

He can scarcely comprehend anything else. Nothing else matters, he decides.

Nothing but your little shivers and whines when his fingers delve down the soft flesh of your stomach--- nothing but the arch of your body into the exploration of his touch. Nothing is worth more than his name whispered from your lips in that scandalous tone you reserve for these moments he sets your skin ablaze with teeth and tongue. You call to him like it were a prayer, but Astarion has hardly done anything so holy to warrant the way you say his name.

His sole inkling of faith is spent on the belief that he could live his whole life, his extended eternity, and never tire of loving you.

Soft and demanding partner within the thrill of his touch, you’ve learned, and his hands part you for him with that comforting understanding. Insistent and hesitant are your finger’s answer to him, digging into the nape of his neck as your head falls back against the pillows. Throat bared, it’s a wonder he doesn’t take another bite of you where he’s done so frequently before, but his attention is too acutely focused on the aching wetness between your thighs and his slender fingers.

Your lips part in an open moan of his name with how expertly he drags pleasure through your veins with each stroke within you, and he drags his teeth against your jaw in a growl, “You sweet, generous thing, always so ready for me.” Finally, he grants you some relief from his constant teasing, pressing the heel of his palm into your most sensitive nub. He allows you to seek your own pleasure with each desperate grind of yourself against the hand that continues to stroke pleasure from within, “Do you have any idea what the sight of you does to me? How dearly I long for us to never leave this bed?” The rasp of his voice has heat rushing up your spine, muddying your thoughts with each continuance of his lascivious tongue, “Leave the Gate to fend for itself, my dear, for I should have you like this always, stripped bare with me between your thighs.”

“Have me then, Astarion,” you really did purr for him in times like these and as much as he enjoys teasing you for it, he truly does relish the tone you get when he has drenched you in lust. His reaction at your words is groaned against your throat; he’s so near, but his hand retreats from you all the same. Never to neglect you for long, your lover is soon tearing at your smallclothes with an impatience that was not wholly unexpected from him.

He pushes his weight onto his forearm beside your head, using his other hand to tug at the laces of his loose breeches while glancing down between you. His eyes, rubies in the darkness, snap to yours and it is as if he has dipped you in firewine and struck a match. You burn for him, from the inside out and in such a way that you know he has thoroughly ruined you for anyone else. You are dripping with it, onto the sheets and the new press of his length against your core. His indulgent rub of himself through your folds is punctuated by him grinding into you, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling for but a moment.

Hair disheveled, you watch the beauty of him as he swallows deeply before capturing you in that piercing gaze once again, “I think I shall have you, now--- how did you just put it?” He crowds you with his arms, and your breath hitches at the feeling of him catching at your entrance when he murmurs lowly, deliberately, “Body and soul? Isn’t that right, my love?”

The way you drag him down into your kiss as he pushes into you is a messy, desperate thing, but it only seems to urge him on. You simply cannot seem to get close enough, though not for lack of trying, as he fills you gloriously. Astarion gasps into your mouth, staggering the push of his hips against yours, devouring you until he is left seated so deeply within you that you can hardly breathe. Then, hands around your thighs push your legs up, and he fits impossibly further.

You sob a moan against sharp fangs, deliriously full of him as he begins a slow fucking that is just enough to drive you into madness. Clambering for something to ground yourself, your nails dig into his back, scraping against the scars that remain there--- his hips snapping faster into you at the feeling of it.

He smears saliva across your jaw and down your throat, understanding your breathless, “Please, please,” for what it is. Permission.

Pain is so fleetingly brief that it may as well not exist at all, because when he bites down hard enough to draw blood from your skin, you are met so suddenly with a lightheaded ecstasy that is compounded by the pleasure he pulses through your body. Only the raw stretch of his every thrust keeps you from dissipating into delirium entirely. You are left keening beneath him as he dissolves into the taste of your blood, feeling his moans against your neck and the way his thrusts begin to match the drum of your heart in your ears. Astarion’s fingers drag in the space between, stopping only when he has found the base of his seat within you.

You feel your heart skip in your chest before he ceases the meal he’s made of you, licking your throat of the sloppy blood that threatens to yet spill. The iron of it meets the smell of sex in the air and he strokes his fingers against where he continuously plunges so deep within you; the wet sounds of your coupling may have been embarrassing if you weren’t so disoriented with the raw need of it. Your every nerve has fiercer concerns than your fickle dignity when he is working to make such a wonderful mess of you as this.

“Delicious,” Astarion groans into your shoulder, nipping and groaning against whatever he may get his mouth on as he feels your increasingly erratic clenching with his harshening pace. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, feeling him reach to draw tight circles at your clit as his own pace begins to falter. Neither of you will make it much further through this. He is left stained, begging upon your skin, “Come with me--- Hells, darling--- I need you to---"

Finding a grip in his hair allows you to drag his head sharply back to force his open-mouthed gaze to cast upon you once more, desperate to see him as he falls apart with you.

The sight of him is nearly enough for you to lose what little sense you’ve held to; while his complexion has turned slightly rosy with the assistance of your fresh blood, he still looks upon you with a consuming hunger all the same, “I love you.”

“Gods---!” dark eyes slam shut as he gasps out your name before all control leaves him in the mindless oblivion that he drags you down into alongside him. Scorching pleasure burns from the inside out as he loses himself in the trembling heat of your rapture, dissolving into a wild and erratic pace that bursts sparks of euphoria behind your eyes.

You are both left in the sticky aftermath of it, heaving mingling breaths as tension melts into you from where he collapses and lingers atop you. You hold him, content to have his softening length seated within you for all eternity as you let him continue his mindless caressing of your skin.

He has said it before, but it will never be enough, so he says it again in the hoarse aftermath of your lovemaking, “I love you, darling. You have made me so… happy.” Should you ever forget it, he is prepared to remind you for the rest of your days, “Thank you.”

Your own repeated declaration is sighed with a contentment that you hope will last a moment longer as your fingers take to stroking through his hair when he lays his head against your chest. Can he hear it from there, you wonder, how your heart whispers only the sweetest of sentiments for him? You like to think he can.

“Astarion?” you finally croak after some time, and he hums soft acknowledgement without much movement. “We should watch the next one together.”

“The next what, my treasure?”

“The next sunrise.”

There is a smile in his voice when he murmurs, “Always.”

#astarion fanfic #astarion ancunin fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 female reader insert #female reader insert #newstuff female reader insert #fanfiction #gif not mine #nsft #smut #author meg #fanfic by me

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therookandthecrow · 2 months ago

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Lucanis is remarkable to my main Rook in many senses, one of those being that he's the first and only person to whom Aloisius is loyal to, let alone affection towards.

Even with that said, he'd never been in a truly romantic relationship before. Lucanis is the person he'd always yearned for, even if he didn't know it before - at least, if he did, he never acknowledged it.

There are more mature, adult themes under the cut - I had a hard time getting this to show up in the Lucanis tag when I tried to post it twice before, so here is my third, and hopefully final, try.

He'd been in psychos*xual trysts and in arrangements with other people in which mutual carnal gratification was involved, but those were always for the reason of him gaining something from that person. [I.e., what he had going with several elites while working at a high-end brothel]

The elven Shadow Dragon veteran was accustomed to utilizing his s*xuality to seduce others in the perfectly Machiavellian sense. There's a lot to unravel here, narratively about his status as an elf in Tevinter society. There is a lot of resentment he holds hidden from plain view.

Take that into account along with the chip ingrained on his shoulder, and there is more to unlearn about his belief that the world is inherently indebted to him. Aloisius has internalized a lot of anger over the years; in that such way, he and Lucanis mirror one another.

Aloisius would jump from partner to partner in the most cavalier sense, feelings be damned. I truly believe that all of his previous, toxic behaviors will melt away through his relationship with Lucanis and that he'll end up fixing my Rook, albeit unintentionally.

The first time that he'd have sex with Lucanis would actually be the first time that he'd have made love with someone. And by the Maker, it was the best s*x he'd ever had in his life. Love was the missing ingredient, and he was incredibly thirsty for it. One could swear he was drinking Lucanis' soul through a straw with how intensely and ravenously he'd kiss him.

He was used to h@te-s*x before, especially with Venatori. Aloisius scarcely concealed his disdain for the Tevinter, human supremacists who'd been a thorn in his side for over a decade of his life. It was amusing to him that they couldn't stay away from him, especially the previous Inquisition prisoner, Livius Erimond.

For Lucanis, and for Lucanis alone, he'd be a soft lover. For Lucanis, s*x will be associated with love and with affection instead of as a bargaining chip or as a means to and end - never expressly for pleasure apart from the sadism he felt when cruelly dominating Venatori and hunting them like prey, and vice versa.

I think that Aloisius is going to have to deal with the fact that his s*xuality never really belonged to him before, because while he thought that he was the one in control before, he had been actively going out of his way to engage s*xually with his marked enemies. It was a game of domination.

I can see the s*x between them being very, very emotional - and while Aloisius likes to carry a facade of cold arrogance and apathy towards the world in general, I can see him crying after sleeping with Lucanis for the first time because all of those emotions are being released through a healthy manner.

For all the pretenses that he held about being unemotional, he was accepting that he had feelings - and for the first time in his life, healthy feelings for another person. He was in love. Odd, he didn't care if he was seen crying, he trusted Lucanis and wanted nothing more than to spend his life with him.

#dragon age: the veilguard #da: tv #rook: aloisius #lucanis dellamorte #rook x lucanis #lucanis x rook #tevinter rook #shadow dragon rook #elven rook #spellblade rook #rook headcanons #rook backstory #lucanis headcanons #rookanis headcanons #please show up in the search for “lucanis”#i had to delete this same post twice because it failed to show up #i censored the “bad” word aka s*x

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 1 year ago

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Thranduil and Josie Pt. 152- Break Into My heart

Summary: Raven gets poetic. She receives a terrifying vision. The Elvenking is back to his womanizing ways to ease his mental anguish. Two Kings share wine and words. Thranduil and Tauriel converse which ends on a sour note. Narcisse has a surprise for Jo, Her kind words eat at his conscious to the point of a breakdown. The warlock admits something.

*Warnings* strong language, angst, smut,

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Raven paced around the elven chambers in solitaire that she had to share with Tauriel, fretting about what the Elvenking was going to make the she-elf do to her unborn child.

Would Tauriel really go through with it? Could she go through with it? It was no secret that the elleth didn't care for Raven one bit, but she still didn't seem like one who had a heart to do such a malicious act, especially after how she offered extra care for Raven's wounds in Rivendell when she didn't have to.

Surely, Thranduil was testing the loyalty of his new captain of the guard and that's what worried Raven even more, because she knew how desperate Tauriel was to remain in Mirkwood. Either way, Raven vowed she would never let it happen and would find a way to escape, even if it meant facing the dealers, or even worse...Jareth.

Raven sat down Indian style on the bed with her small bag of belongings and beg and digging through it for a particular book to read in hopes of calming her restless mind. It was one of her favorites by Edgar Allan Poe because it consisted of his complete poetry. She then did what she always did, closed her eyes and opened it to see what message she would receive this time.

As she opened her eyes, she began to read aloud.

"A Dream Within a Dream...

Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, thus much let me avow. You are not wrong, who deem that my days have been a dream; yet if hope has flown away in a night or in a day, in a vision or in none, is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar of a surf tormented shore and I hold within my hand, grains of the golden sand. How few, yet how they creep through my fingers to the deep while I weep, while I weep, Oh god! Can I not grasp them with a tighter clasp? Oh god! Can I not save one from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?"

"Hope...what hope do I have?" Raven asked herself as a single tear strolled down her cheek.

Oddly in that moment, she thought of Jace. Why?? He abandoned her. Could she really blame him though? He hardly knew her and taking on the Elvenking could mean a death sentence for him. Jace had his own issues to deal with, why should he give damn about what happens to her? Why should anyone give a damn about her?

She closed the book with a sigh, for the message only made her feel worse. As she put it away, the glint of Jareth's citrine ring flashed in her face from the candlelight gleaming down inside the bag.

With all the chaos, Raven had forgot she even had it and the question came to light again as to how that slimy ghoul Gollum had gotten ahold of it in the first place? The only thing she could some up with was that the little thief must have stolen it off of Jareth's finger while the goblin king was disabled from Thranduil's light, for she couldn't see Jareth giving it to him for any reason. It was a part of Jareth's power and he would certainly come to reclaim it...and her.

Raven pulled it out, fondling it as she looked it over in more detail. It appeared to just be some ordinary antique but all who knew of it, knew it was anything but ordinary. It wasn't necessarily evil though, it just depended on who's finger it was placed upon. Of course, Raven didn't have the slightest clue how to bring it's magic out, so she did something quite stupid out of curiosity, and slid it upon her finger.

As she gazed upon her own reflection in the golden topaz, something began to happen. Something terrible.

Raven became frozen in some trance like state as her eyes glazed over in a white film...and then she heard him. Jareth.

"Curiosity killed the cat. I knew you were weak and foolish girl."

Her hand shook profusely as his image then appeared inside the stone, creeping towards her in a sinister, yet strangely sexy way.

"You have betrayed me for the last time my love. Did you honestly believe you could escape me? Or that I would simply forget your lying vows of love for me? Those same vows of love that created the life inside of you? You belong to me Raven. You will always belong to me. I will reclaim you, my ring and my child and you will rue the day you ever crossed me. There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The Elvenking will face my wrath as well. He cannot protect you. I am your King. You will bow before me and take your place at my side for eternity. I am coming. Time...is short."

All that could then be seen was a close up of Jareth's face as he devilishly laughed, and then he vanished as Tauriel walked in.

"He...he...he...kn..knows...he knows about the baby." Raven stammered in fear after she came back to reality.

"Is that what I think it is??? On your finger???" Tauriel asked with beaming eyes and came towards her.

"Stay away from me you baby killing bitch!" Raven shouted and sprung off the bed, rushing backwards with great force right into the stone wall.

Down she slid to her butt, dazed and confused as she repeatably mumbled before she passed out.

"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream. All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream. All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream."

After viewing you through your moonstone for the second time in Haldir's arms, Thranduil, or more likely the Elvenking, enjoyed some pleasure of his own on the cool December day in his warm outdoor pool. Accompanying him was one of his elleth servants. She had platinum strands like his, although he preferred fiery hair...fiery hair that belonged to you. Because of that annoyance, he purposely chose her for a distraction and to fuck out the relentless ache in his cock that happened every time you invaded his thoughts and he had high hopes it would stop him from envisioning you while doing so.

"My lord...where shall you have me?" the pale blue eyed elf meekly asked.

The Elvenking merely side eyed her, not wanting to see her face.

"There...on the steps. Lean over them."

The young she elf did as she was commanded, laying her chest onto the cold wet stone with the crack of her bottom just barely above the clear blue water.

As he approached her, cock in hand, he noticed she was laying on her cheek to where he could see the side of her unwanted face.

"Face forward."

She turned to glance at him. "My lord, I...I am?"

"Dolth- cín níf!!!" (Conceal your face) he barked.

She squeaked and swiftly placed her forehead down on top of her hands.

"This is not for your pleasure, but for mine. If you wish to receive any, know that I will not wait."

'Y..yes my..lord." she timidly replied as she waited for the sharp sting of his girth.

Thranduil spread her entrance open with his fingers and guided the head of his swollen cock inside with his other, then he released his hand, grabbed her hips and thrust into her.

She squealed into her hands as he began pounding against her, so hard that the water sloshed about in a frenzy to the beat of smacking skin.

His idea failed him miserably as there you were, red hair and all, before him, being fucked like a dog. But the memory he was seeing was nothing of the sort, for in it, he was making love to you, soft, slow and sweet in his chamber's pool. The candlelight danced over your wet back as you moaned and panted for him, immediately bringing him to climax.

Thranduil's eyes closed hard and his mouth hung open as he sped up, ignoring the elleth's orgasmic mewls and only hearing yours. He swiftly pulled out, groaning and stroking his way through his release as he expelled his cum into the water, while in his mind, he secretly called your name.

"Glenn-hi." (Go now) he commanded to the blonde elf. "And do not return to my sight, this day or any day."

She glanced at him in confusion. "My...lord??"

Thranduil's eyes rolled as he pursed his lips. "It would seem I have made the right choice to remove you from my kingdom, for your dense mind is of no use here, nor is your cunt of any more use to me."

He swayed his hand in the air behind him for her to exit as he waded to the other side of the pool to climb out.

After Thranduil relaxed in the remaining sunlight for a moment with his wine, he then slipped back into his attire and headed to the shipping docks in annoyance, as he saw Bard's late barge arriving.

"You are late with the barrels. Are there no means of time in Lake Town?" Thranduil rudely said in his greeting to the captain of the archers and King of Dale.

"King Thranduil. Apologies. I had a setback with some orcs along the way. It is good to see you alive and well."

"It is good to know your vision is still in tact. Unload, reload and be on your way to Dorwinion. I expect extra allowance of time will be given for your next delivery, for tardiness is not acceptable as it may have been while I was...away, but as your properly functioning eyes have witnessed, I have returned and all operations will remain under my rule as they were."

Bard had heard of the trauma inflicted upon the King and was even warned of his changed behavior, but knowing Thranduil as well as he did, he really didn't see any difference in him....yet, for Thranduil's attitude was completely typical. Even so, Bard knew he could hold his own against the Elvenking, who was also his friend.

"Will that include a shared glass of the wine before my departure like always? I have missed my old friend and was very saddened to believe you had passed on."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed as he peered down at the smiling bowman.

"Very well. There are things you need to be aware of before entering Dorwinion. Be quick and join me in the docking tent."

Bard nodded with a bow and began his duties while Thranduil then headed off to patiently wait.

Fifteen minutes later, Bard entered the tent to find the King in his chair, sipping his wine and seemingly lost in thought, for his arrival went unnoticed.

"King Thranduil? I have completed my tasks."

Thranduil did as he had always done and went to the wine table to pour the other King a drink.

"I am in need of more ale in addition to the usual order from Lord Narcisse for an upcoming celebration."

"As you wish. Has your queen returned? I would like to offer my congratulations on the birth of the Princess."

"You may offer them to me, for my daughter was not born of immaculate conception." Thranduil quipped and returned to his chair.

"Of course. Congratulations King Thranduil. I was only hoping to offer them to her in person and hopefully meet the child."

"It would seem you will meet her before I am able to do so. Josephine remains in Dorwinion with my daughter. Legolas is on his way there to return them to me."

"That is good news. I am sure it will be a most happy reunion and celebration that you have planned. Shall I relay any messages to the Queen?"

The Elvenking's jaw was clenching, for he could not stand to continue hearing Bard address you as his Queen, but he knew he must carry on with his charade that you and he would be one happy little family again. He could not risk you knowing the truth as it would delay his plans even further by you possibly refusing to come back and he knew Legolas would not take Leean from you, nor would you allow him to.

"All that you know of my existence is to remain unknown. Although you may arrive before Legolas, he will inform her per my instructions."

"The Queen does not know you are alive?"

"Ahh, I see your brain is working as well as your eyes."

"Thranduil...may I ask why you would not wish for her to know her King is alive as soon as possible? I cannot imagine the suffering she has endured."

"You may not! What concern is my business of yours? You will do as I have ordered or I can and will easily find a replacement for your duties here."

Now Bard knew something was amiss just like he was warned of. Thranduil was referring to his daughter as only his and seemed to have no concern for you. The Thranduil he knew, that loved you beyond the moon and the stars, would not be sitting here drinking wine as if it were just another day. He would have been on his way to Dorwinion himself to be with you, but it was not Thranduil that sat before him. It looked like him, but it was in fact the elf lord he knew before you arrival, the Elvenking.

"Respectfully, how do you expect me to look her in the eyes and not speak of you?""

"Maybe I was incorrect about your brain functions. It is as simple as you are. You do not speak to her at all. That woman and child are nothing to you. You are going there for your compensated duties, unless you would like me to involve myself in your affairs, such as with Baine?"

Bard took a step towards the Elvenking with a scowl upon his face.

"You dare to threaten my son??"

Thranduil stood from his seat and faced the angry bowman.

"I dare to dare as I please. With that said, I threaten no child. I am merely suggesting that he may be better suited for your position. After all, he did assist you, bravely I might add, in Smaug's demise and would take his duties seriously. He would not be concerned, as you are, with Josephine or my child."

"If I no longer work for you, nor will my son. I do not need your compensation, or have you forgotten I am a King as well? What I do for you and other lands are to help others instead of biding my time on a throne, wearing a pretty crown, drinking wine and patronizing others."

Although Thranduil looked upon the man with great dismay of his insult, he expected nothing less from one King to another, especially from Bard the brave.

Bard returned the look, sat his chalice down and without another word or a single head bow, he left.

Thranduil made his way to his chambers, greatly vexed and having enough of the day's occurrences, only to find Tauriel awaiting him at his stairwell.

He found his eyes rolling once again as he walked past her in which she followed him down the stairs, offering a quick bow.

"Unless you have come to inform me that you have completed the task I ordered, I wish to enjoy my evening in peace and solitude." he snapped as he poured another glass of his cherished and mind numbing vintage.

"Apologies my lord, I have not, for I have something you may find of more importance for the time being." Tauriel strongly said as she paced about with worry.

"What could be of more importance than ridding of that creature in the dhampir's womb??"

"This...my lord."

Tauriel extended her arm out and opened her hand to reveal Jareth's citrine gemstone.

The Elvenking's eyes rolled again, but this time, almost out of his head.

"Where have you come across this piece??"

"It was in Raven's possession. I fear she has had contact with Jareth. She claims he is aware of the child."

"It is no child. It is his demon seed."

Thranduil took the ring from her and eyed it over, before pulling out your moonstone that he swore he would not look at again.

"I now have two of the six runestones needed to destroy Jareth. My moonstone and Josephine's are of one piece, but only one of the pair is needed. Haldir possesses another, the emerald. I will inform Legolas to retrieve it."

"My lord...who has the other three?"

"Harker has the crystal prism in which he used as means of torture upon me. Somewhere, there is an amethyst and a pink tourmaline. All six each represent a strength...knowledge, love, birth, strength, destruction and death. I hold in my hands, love and death. Haldir holds birth. Harker holds destruction. Knowledge and strength still remain, as well as the book of shadows, I last recall, Julian concealed the three pages to raise the dead and they also are the only ones that can undo it. When all items are combined, along with Ashmole's spell, it is the only means to Jareth's permanent destruction, which is why he wants them for the obvious reason of preventing it. The issue we currently face are those three pages. It is all that is needed for Jareth to carry out his deadly plan. With Julian under his control, it is only a matter of time before the goblin king is in possession of those, if he is not already."

"My lord...this will be...ruinous."

"How remarkable, your observance of the obvious. I have had enough of this futile conversation and day at that. Come tomorrow at high noon, there will be a meeting before my throne and by the day's end, I expect my demands to be met."

"My lord...if I may inquire...how is it that you desire me to handle the situation? Raven is not going to consume anything I give her, for she is aware of your plan."

"Slow-witted I perceived you not to be. Am I myself slow-witted as well for placing my faith in you?"

"No, of course not my lord, it's just that...there is no other way than...black magic...which is forbidden here....and the price... it comes back on the spellcaster three fold as you know."

"It is not forbidden if I so order it. I am the King of this realm, am I not? And as King, I have sovereignty, also do I not?"

"Y...yes my lord...I..."

"You nothing! Dispose of the evil entity as you see fit or find yourself in contempt of a direct order. I would advise against defying me or I assure you, the worst price you will suffer is my wrath."

"Yes, my lord." Tauriel bowed and rushed off, knowing she was already receiving her karma by Thranduil himself for all that she had done. He could have easily chosen any of is guard to complete the ungodly task, but he intentionally chose her out of spite and, like Raven believed, to test her loyalty. The most obvious though, was that it was to punish Jareth, as well as Raven, for all that they took from the King....you, his daughter and the vast majority of his will and his love.

Thranduil laid the pair of gems upon his desk and sat down, again gazing at his journal, wishing to add another entry, but he knew he would be easily tempted to read his past memories and feelings, so instead, he relished in his wine as he fondled your stone without thought....until he saw you appear inside again without warning.

It now seemed his touch brought you about, like rubbing a genie lamp.

He stood in utter shock, staring down at the vision, for this time he saw you with Lord Narcisse and it appeared to him to be an intimate moment. A kiss.

"How...Josephine?..." he whispered.

Thranduil's heart shockingly burned him in agony. It was nothing like the jealousy and rage he had felt when he saw you with Haldir. This...this was true unexpected pain. Like a thief in the night, you broke into his heart.

As Narcisse arranged the dinner table in his chamber, a knock sounded upon his door. He smiled, knowing it was you by the way you lightly tapped three times.

"Jo...I was beginning to think you had changed your mind."

"No...I was tending to Leean when Haldir showed up." you explained as you went inside.

"Isss....everything alright?"

"I don't know. He knew I was coming here tonight, so he wanted to come stay with Lola and Leean, which I am surprised he even did. Stephane, he heard us outside the door earlier today, about me choosing to stay here with you. Needless to say, he was highly upset and things didn't go well. All we do is fight anymore and I feel so terrible. I miss him...the way things used to be until my mother came back into my life and turned it all upside down. Now I feel like he and I are so disconnected and...it hurts."

"Jo...you don't have to be here with me this evening. Why don't you go spend it with Haldir and try to make things right with him?"

You laughed as you poured some wine. "You...Stephane Narcisse, want me to go spend my night with Haldir instead of you?"

"Is that so unbelievable that I would want you to be happy?"

"No...I know you do, but I made these plans with you...actually we made them awhile ago and they got interrupted so....I want to stay right here, or I would not have came. With that said, is there anymore news on Harker or Bash?"

"Unfortunately no in regards to Harker. My guards are on continuous watch. No one sleeps until he is reprimanded. Bash was still resting but alert. He said he was feeling better and asked me to thank you for what you did for him."

"Well, I will go and visit with him tomorrow and let him know I was more than happy to help him. He's a good man, just like you."

Stephane's eyes fell and he walked off to pour himself a glass of the hard stuff. All the kind things you had said to him lately only made him feel worse by the minute for what he was concealing. He even tried to condone his own actions by telling himself that Thranduil was probably truly dead by now considering he had been imprisoned by Jareth all this time and all the other worldly experiences you had proved it. Even so, it wouldn't change anything though if you were to know Thranduil had been alive and that he kept it from you. It would actually make it much worse for Narcisse...and even harder on you. He was at a crossroads and didn't know which way to go and it was eating him alive.

"Hey, where'd you go just now?" you asked with a concerned smile.

"I'm sorry Jo...I just have so much on my mind."

"I know you do. Come on, let's eat. You went to all this trouble to have it prepared with all of this going on. Try to relax, unwind a bit."

'You're right, as always my lady. I hope it is to your liking." he said with a sly grin.

"Ok, what did you do this time Stephy?" you giggled and quickly lifted the silver lid off the large wooden plate in the middle.

You sucked in a gasp and released a loud squeal of joy as you saw a steaming hot homestyle pizza in front of you.

"Oh...my...god...you didn't."

"I did, for once again, I paid attention." he smiled, and quite big at that to see you so happy. "I cannot take the credit for preparing it this time, but I did inform the cooks how to create it. It has crushed tomatoes, cheese, pork, mushrooms, onions and peppers. I hope that is alright? Oh, and I had one made to be taken to Haldir and Lola too, and dessert."

"Are you kidding?? It's...perfect Stephane...how sweet of you and....you're...perfect too."

"I wouldn't go that far my lady." he chuckled. "Here, let me cut it up for you."

The pie made three large pieces for each of you and you both ate every single piece, including the crust edge, which you never liked, and then you indulged in warm cherry pie, also specially made for you.

'Alright, I cannot eat another bite or I am going to burst." you laughed. "Thank you Stephane...so much for this. Two delish pies of perfection."

"I am just happy to see you smile."

"Well, that's because of you. I...I am really happy that I will be staying here for awhile with you. I know I have to go back to Mirkwood at some point...for Legolas. I know he misses Leean and they shouldn't be separated. But, I have a feeling it's going to be quite some time before I can go back. It is far too dangerous right now."

"Jo...I..I don't ever want you to leave. I know you must...but...I..I will never see you. It is not like Mirkwood is just down the road. It's miles away."

"Stephane, when all of this is over and it's safe, I can travel to see you and you can even come see me. We could rotate months." you jested, but Stephane didn't laugh. Instead, he quietly got up to go get another drink, his hand trembling as he poured it.

"Steph, it will be alright? It's only a few days travel. I can hitch a ride with Bard on his deliveries. I will always want to see you. You...you mean a lot to me and you're always here for me when I need you."

Narcisse guzzled his whiskey and then sat down in another chair as he rubbed his hand over his face, obviously upset....and then...he just broke down crying.

You didn't know what was happening or what to do. This was so unlike Narcisse. The tough and strong warlock you knew was now merely a lost little boy, but you of all people knew one could only be strong for so long when the world was crumbling around you.

Slowly, you approached him with compassion. When he realized you were standing before him, he stopped his tears and rolled his embarrassed glistening eyes up to you.

You knelt down and took his tear soaked face into your hands.

"Stephane, sweetheart. What is it?" you softly asked as your concerned eyes studied his.

"Jo...I..I know this is not like me...but...I cannot keep this inside any longer."

His hand raised to your cheek, stroking your hair behind your ear.

"Ok? Talk to me. You can tell me anything. I am here for you as you always are for me."

Narcisse closed his eyes and sighed, then lightly traced your lips with his fingertips.

"Jo...that rare jewel I once told you I have yet to see of love? I found it...I....I...love you..."

Your eyes widened and you found yourself speechless, except for the small gasp that escaped your lips.

"You...do not have to say anything Jo. I just needed you to know....and I...I don't want you to go away. I've never felt this way and I am terrified of losing you..."

You still couldn't speak as you gazed into his sincerely love filled eyes of teary blue. Instead, you found yourself pulling his lips to yours.

@redeemer46

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apalestar · 8 months ago

Note

Halsin's hand remained firmly cupped at the side of Astarions neck, thumb planted beneath Astarions chin as Halsin drew up a bottle of bloody honey up, instructing Astarion to open his mouth.. and the moment he does he pours the warmed liquid onto his tongue, feeling his anticipation grow with each action. With his patience finally breaking, he practically tosses the bottle aside as he closes that distance between them, kissing Astarion with tongue stroking against the others. The taste of it was intoxicating, causing Halsin to growl out a low groan of arousal as they kiss passionately.

@never-surrender encouraging my behavior.

How tempting the smell of the bottle’s contents alone was. Nearly as much as the elf holding it. He welcomed the hold on his neck. Only because of whom the hand belonged to. Astarion eagerly parted his lips. Tongue and fangs on full display. The mixture of blood and honey hit his tongue allowed to pool and coat in all the recesses of his mouth. Small portions of it escaped in rivets down his chin.

He knew the sight he made; how appealing it could be. The vampire drank down what he didn't allow to seep from his corners of his lips. The bottle eventually pulled away by Halsin himself. His tongue kept out and his mouth opened for Halsin to impatiently claim. He all but purred into the ravishing of his lips, his tongue, his mouth...

And his partner's growl sent a shiver of pleasure racing down Astarion's spine. Oh he would have him. Right here on the forest floor. Onlookers be damned. He returned the kiss in equal fervor. Even threatened the druid with his fangs. His body pressed against the other elf even as that hand held his neck in place. Let Halsin feel the arousal this stirred in him.

Astarion moaned wonderfully into him. Deft fingers reached between them to stroke Halsin's cock through his clothing. Felt as it thickened between his thighs. When his partner retreated from that kiss Astarion chased after him biting his bottom lip for good measure. Released him with but a drop of the druid's blood on his tongue. The gleam in those crimson eyes positively sinful. Foretold of the vampire's desire.

"I'm rather inclined to have you right here, darling." His intent punctuated by grasping Halsin through the fabric of his pants more deliberately. "We're already secluded enough." His eyes partially close with a tantalizing smirk on his lips. "Indulge me for an evening?"

#ask: penning the rogue #never-surrender #verse: ring of fortune #suggestive #// We are heathens.#queue

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lethendralis-paints · 5 years ago

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10 Characters I Would Kiss

Tagged by the affable @pikapeppa (Thank you, my dear friend! This is going to be fun!)

My list would be in some ways predictable, but with a twist. It seems that I am a strict monogamist even with my fictional loves, so only #1 will get all the kisses and 2-10 are listed in no particular order and are getting warm hugs and a peck on the cheek as beloved friends!

1) FENRIS from Dragon Age 2 (duh)

Do I even need to explain it? He ‘s the most beautiful collection of pixels I have ever seen. And the way he is written brought me to tears countless times. His background and character arc just hit all my buttons. Broken but not giving up, scarred but sensitive. Caring and loyal, proud and prickly. I just love him, ok? My precious, fluffy white dandelion!

2) SAND from neverwinter Nights 2

The snarky elven lawyer mage every Knight Captain should have at their side. And to think that Obsidian thought at the time that misogynistic evil ranger was a better choice for a LI for this game! Such a shame!

Sand, in a velvety voice: “I derive pleasure from clarification.”

3) VALEN SHADOWBREATH from Neverwinter Nights Hords of the Underdark

Bioware knows how to make these romances... Valen is basically a 0.5 version of Fenris. A moody warrior, battling his inner rage and resentment, loyal to a fault and protective of those he cares for. Just ask the Seeker. And he’s got a tail, being a tiefling and all!

4) V from DMC5

Precious baby cane boy as @kallielef called him once. I won’t spoil his story for those who haven’t played the game yet. But trust me, it’s to die for.

Tall, dark and brooding - check! Reading William Blake poetry and dancing instead of taunting enemies - yes, please!

5) SERANA from TES5 Skyrim

My favourite traveling companion! Her questline is incredible, and the comments she makes on your journeys are delightfully snarky! My bff in Skyrim!

6) ZEVRAN ARAINAI from Dragon Age Origins

Oh look, yet another Bioware romance! Who knew?!

Have to confess, at first I was put out by his lewd jokes, but being a people pleaser even in games, befriended the elf. And boy, oh boy, did his character arc break my heart to pieces...I won’t be spoiling anything, since a couple of my friends are yet to play Origins (please do, I beg of you!), but Zevran is the sweetest boy and if anything happens to him, I will kill everyone and then myself!

And somewhere he is still mourning my Warden Tabris.... *sniff*

7) ZELGADIS GRAYWORDS from anime series Slayers

Oh look, not an RPG game finally! Another broody, cursed warrior with the heart of gold! Lethy sure has a type... If you haven’t watched Slayers yet, please do! It’s delightfully funny and dramatic!

8) MARTIN SEPTIM from TES4 Oblivion

I just...I... *cries like a baby*

I was not prepared for how the main quest in the game ended! I grew so attached to humble and intelligent former priest of Akatosh, only to... (spoilers)

9) DEEKIN SCALESINGER from Neverwinter Nights SotU and HotU

Simply the best traveling companion and the most faithful friend you could wish for! *hugs the little kobold bard and kisses his scaly little cheeks*

Not only he’s a bard, but also a collector of rarities, a writer, and a Red Dragon disciple!

Deekin is the best Bioware companion, hands down!

10) KIAN ALVANE from Dreamfall the Longest Journey

Always admired these quiet warrior types, who are also smart and brave enough to question their beliefs and admit mistakes. His interactions with April Ryan are one the best parts of that game. And the deep philosophical questions they raise about faith, knowledge, loyalty...oof! He’s an incredibly compelling figure, for sure!

I still need to get Dreamfall: Chapters to find out what happens to him next though!

Were you surprised? Intrigued? Heard about some of these for the first time? Let me know!

Tagging forward tothe usual bunch of @tryvyalsynnes @kourvo @beckiboos @schoute @kallielef @shayafury @mago-emplumado and anyone else who wishes to play! As alway, no pressure if you don’t want to!

#tag meme #tumblr game #all my kisses belong to that damn elf #other beloved characters #not art

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fanfics4all · 4 years ago

Text

Just One Hug

Request: Yes / No can u do a draco x fem!reader smut pls.. literally anything idc Anon

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2085

Warnings: Smut!

Y/N: Your Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Draco has been acting so odd lately. He’s been glaring at me the whole train ride home, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why! Normally he would glare at me because he was jealous of someone I was with or some other stupid reason, but I was currently just sitting with Pansy.

“Pansy, do you have any idea what’s up with Draco?” I whispered. She looked over and shrugged.

“I have no bloody idea. Maybe it’s because you hugged Harry goodbye?” She suggested and I shook my head.

“There is no bloody way he’s jealous over a hug! Even if it is Harry.” I said as I thought back to a few hours ago.

“Harry’s hands were pretty low.” Pansy said and I furrowed my brow.

“Were they?” I asked and she nodded.

“I swear I thought he was going to grab your bum.” She said with a laugh.

“Are you being serious?” I asked shocked.

“How the hell did you not feel it?” She asked and I shrugged.

“Suppose I wasn’t paying attention.” I said and she shook her head.

“You’re a bloody idiot Y/N.” She laughed and I sighed.

“So Draco is jealous of a damn hug.” I shook my head.

“A very steamy looking hug.” She said and I glared at her.

“Oh Merlin, I’m going to have a lot to deal with this vacation.” I sighed and she smirked.

“Maybe it’ll work out in your favor.” She wiggled her brows and I shoved her.

“Pansy!” I shrieked and she laughed.

When the train finally stopped Draco grabbed my hand and pulled me along with him. We silently walked through the crowd and were met by one of his house elves.

“Master Draco, your parents are on a short trip and sent me to receive you and Miss Y/L/N.” He said.

“Take us home, now.” He ordered and the House elf obayed. We were instantly transported to Malfoy Manor and Draco wasted no time taking me to his room.

“Sit.” He ordered and I sat down on his bed. He walked into his bathroom without another word and I didn’t dare move. I could tell where this was going. Draco returned after a few moments completely naked, I simply looked up at him.

“Are you ready to be a good girl?” He asked brazenly.

“Yes Sir.” I answered softly.

“Are you going to be my slut and let me use you however I’d like?” He asked and I had to bite back my smile, he always no matter what, asked for consent before any play time.

“Yes Sir.” I answered.

“Are you going to do everything I command?” He asked.

“Yes Sir.” I answered.

“Who owns you?” He asked, his voice getting deeper.

“You, Sir.” I answered and he smirked.

“Take off your top.” He ordered. His eyes never left mine as I removed my shirt.

“And now your bra.” He ordered. I reached behind me to unclasp my bra and it dropped down my arms onto my lap. Involuntarily I crossed my arms over my now naked breasts.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you are, whore.” He said, now completely in character.

“Put your arms down.” He ordered, the last words sounded a little deeper in his throat.

“Yes Sir.” I said and dropped my arms.

“Stand up.” He ordered and I did as I was told.

“Take off your skirt.” He said. I unzipped my skirt and bent down to push it down, but his hand grasped my hair, making me gasp.

“Oh your knees.” He growled. I was forced down, his erect cock in front of my face.

“Suck it like you need it.” He said. I lean forward, my tongue slipping past my lips. He pulled me back by my hair causing me to whine.

“You suck it, lick it, and want it, whore or there’s a punishment waiting for you. Do you understand?” He asked.

“Yes Sir.” I answered breathlessly. My head is forced down onto his cock this time. His size fills my mouth and the tip touches the back of my throat. I moaned as I gagged and choked on him.

“Like that, or I’ll do it for you.” He said huskily as he released my hair. I nodded and moved to take him fully into my throat. I alternated between sucking and licking, sometimes taking him fully into my mouth so I could choke on him. It was just what he liked. His hand reached down and held my head, pushing me further. Tears began falling down my face as my breath escaped me, but I still moaned.

“You really love my cock in your mouth, don’t you? You just love sucking my dick. What a cum slut you are.” He said with a smirk. I felt like I couldn’t take anymore, but luckily his hand wrapped in my hair and pulled me until I was standing.

“Look at what a mess you are. Do you enjoy being a mess?” He asked. I nodded, feeling his strong hand starting to grip my throat. After a moment his hand left my throat and moved to my breasts, grabbing them roughly. I gasped at his touch. His hands grabbed them and twisted my nipples, making me moan. The pain is intense and runs through my body, making me gasp in pleasure.

“You like being used by me, don’t you?” He asked, calmly.

“Yes Sir.” I answered, just barely managing to get the words out.

“You like being my whore, don’t you?” He asked, his voice getting deeper.

“Yes Sir.” I whined as he pulled me towards him by grabbing my ass, still in my panties. He moved his mouth towards my breast. He started biting, sucking, leaving his mark on my breasts. I moaned loudly and arched my back. My pussy was wet and my hips reached for his body. I wanted him no, needed him. I needed him inside me.

“Turn around, slut.” He whispered as he grabbed my breasts roughly and spun me around. His arms wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my body as his other hand reached into my panties. I felt his fingers slide into my wetness. I moaned and moved back against his hard cock.

“You’ll cum when I tell you you can, and not until I say you can. Understand?” He said huskily into my ear. I moaned deeply.

“Yes Sir.” I whisper. His fingers continue their exploration inside me, circling my clit and pinching it. I started losing all my thoughts except the one command he gave me. No cumming. My body was in agony as his fingers continued grabbing my clit and sliding into my soaking wet pussy. After what felt like a lifetime, he pulled away and let go of me. I felt him pull my hands behind my back, then muttering a spell. Ropes circled my wrists, binding them tightly. He grabbed me by the throat from behind and I felt his cock pressing against me.

“No cumming until I allow it.” He reminded me. I nodded slightly, his strong fingers still around my windpipe.

“Get on the bed.” He said letting go of me. I kneeled forward and clumsily kneeled on the bed. He grabbed my arms and laid me on my side.

“Look at you with your sluttiest panties on.” His voice was deep with desire and slight mocking. He muttered another spell and suddenly my panties were off.

“Look at me.” He ordered. I turned my head towards him and found him watching me with one hand holding my ass and the other held my panties.

“Open your mouth.” He said. I opened without a word and he shoved them into my mouth, enough to muffle my moans.

“Are you going to take it like the good little slut you are?” He asked, his hand roughly spreading my legs. He moved one under him and pushed the other towards my chest, exposing my wet pussy to him. He looked at me and reached over, grabbing my hair roughly.

“Yes Sir.” He said, moving my head up and down. I moaned loudly as he started to slowly slide into me. He pulled back and I looked up at him with wide eyes.

“No cumming. Only I decide when you can cum.” He growled and I tried to show him how much I needed it. He slid into me again, I moaned and squirmed. I shoved my face into his blanket, fighting against my need for release. He smiled as he pounded into me hard. He pulled out until only his tip was teasing the inside of me. I moaned loudly, a desperate attempt to show him how badly I needed to cum.

“Is this what you like, slut?” He asked, the tip of his cock just barely stroking the inside of me.

“Please!” I moaned, but it was muffled by my panties. He pushed deeply inside me for two strokes and then teased my pussy with the tip again. Two more times and I’m completely needy. My muscles tensed as I tried desperately to push myself onto his cock. My pleas grew louder and I thrashed my head widely, fighting for release. He pushed deep inside me and I cried out in pleasure. With every stroke he reminded me that I can’t cum.

“Please, please, please, please!” I begged with tears streaming down my face.

“You’re such a good little whore.” He said with a smirk in his voice.

“Tell me who you belong to.” He growled as he started fucking me harder and harder.

“You! I belong to you Draco!” I nearly screamed, well as much as I could gagged.

“You may cum now.” He said as his hands grabbed my ass and pulled me roughly to him with every stroke. I cried out as I came and my body loosened as I felt the waves of relief wash over my body. It took no time for my pussy to tighten around him as I came hard on his cock. He continued riding me hard as I came. Once I was finished I felt him pull out. He pulled me up by my hair, my body shaking from the intense orgasm. He pulled the panties from my mouth and replaced them with his cock. He moved my head rhythmically on his cock. I slurped and slid over his wet dick. He moves my head as he needs to and I felt his body tighten as his cum fills my mouth. His cum slides down my throat as his cock throbs against my swollen lips. I swallow every drop with a content sigh. He released my hair and I looked up at him. He bends down and captures my lips in a deep kiss. He mumbled a spell and the ropes disappeared from my wrists.

“Stay here.” He said softly. I watched him walk into his bathroom and heard his shower starting. He walked back into the room and took me by the hand, leading me into the hot shower. The warm water feels so good on my tired and sore body. Once I finished I got out and changed into the nightgown Draco left me. I walked into the room to find him reading and smiled. He looked over at me with a smile and opened his arms. I gladly crawled into bed and cuddled into him. His arms wrapped around me and I sighed happily as I laid on his chest.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked and I shook my head.

“My wrists and head are a little sore, but nothing horrible.” I answered with a smile. He kissed my head and held me a little tighter.

“I’m sorry love, but I honestly can’t stand seeing Potter putting his hands anywhere near you.” He growled and I rolled my eyes.

“So Pansy was right.” I said and he looked at me confused.

“She said you were jealous because apparently Harry was pretty much grabbing my bum.” I said and he started at me shocked.

“Apparently? He was a hundred percent grabbing your arse!” He said and I sighed.

“I think you two are exaggerating.” I said and he shook his head.

“Are you trying to be punished again?” He asked, but with a playful tone.

“Possibly.” I smirked playfully back at him.

“It’s going to be a long week for you Y/N.” He smirked and I pecked his lips.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @in-slytherin-we-trust @accio-rogers @sambucky8 @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101 @vanessa-kom-skaikru @dracoswhvre

#Harry Potter #Harry Potter Smut #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco malfoy imagine #draco x fem!reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy x reader #fanfic #request #Smut #draco smut

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itssuppertim3 · 4 years ago

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Share (Miraak x Remeir)

A sweet n' fluffy OC one shot for you, if I may

It was cold. And rainy. And wet.

Remeir and Miraak stood and observed the downpour, both pondering over their little predicament. In the spur of the storm, the two dragonborn took off towards the closest shelter they could find and luckily came upon an abandoned cave.

Miraak shook his head in dismay and grumbled an assortment of dovah curses. Remeir mustered a sigh before using a small flame spell to guide her way into the mouth of the cave. "This is just dreadful," Miraak muttered. "Dreadful, I say."

"Just get in here and help me start a fire before we both catch a cold," the redhead called back. Both of them were squatted down, a shivering mess. There were a few dried and burnable materials in her bag, such as paper, books she held no current interest in, and even unnecessary ingredients. The fire she managed to craft was a small one, yet durable. Luckily, her ebony armor deflected any rain from touching her clothes underneath. Her tall, atmoran companion was not so fortunate.

Miraak's robes were drenched and the worn fabric stuck to his skin like tree sap. She definitely didn't blame him for being as vexed as he was. "Don't glare at me with such remorse, Dragonborn," the man finally sighed. The quirky elf blew out a chuckle before rising to her feet. "I can dry your robes for you, if you want. I imagine it's not very comfy," she offered. Miraak inspected her extended hand and glanced at his outfit. "As long as you do not catch them on fire. I'm not in the mood for running around this land like a half-nude peasant." As serious and nonchalant as he was, Remeir bent over in a spew of laughter. "Oh, gods! How can someone as cold as you be so funny?! I could-- I could just picture you walking around like a damned caveman!" He clearly wasn't amused by the display in front of him.

In silent disgust, Miraak peeled off his top and threw it at his savior's face. "It's humiliating to be reminded that you were able to defeat me," he hissed. Still, she continued to chortle like an infant. Remeir was well-past her years of embarrassment. Over time, she gradually learned to ignore the opinions of others and lived the carefree life she always desired. That being said, most were so intimidated by her flamboyant personality that she was often avoided. She never failed to be amazed how Miraak had remained by her side for this long, now. Mara only knew almost every second with her had to be excruciating for him.

When the dunmer finally composed herself, she draped Miraak's robes above the fire and let the heat do its work. When she turned to face him, she had forgotten that his upper body was now completely and utterly bare. Saying that Remeir was unprepared for the sight in front of her was a massive understatement. As long as this woman had been breathing, she was more inexperienced with men than a fly was with a house! Besides the heavenly sound of his voice, she colored Miraak to have the body of one of the grey beards. That being said, she never failed to catch notice of the way his biceps swelled when lifting something heavy or how broad his shoulders grew when throwing his gear over his back. She knew he had a burly musculature. But this, this was something else entirely. Was that an eight-pack?!!

"Quit staring, you star-eyed oaf!" She switched back to reality when Miraak attempted to cover his front with his arms like an exposed woman. "My bad. Just trying to figure who the lucky lady you're trying to impress is," Rem stated bluntly before plopping down beside him. "Or~," she purred. "Could it be a seeker?" Miraak used his hand to push her face away. "You are outrageous," he grumbled. "Immature, little brat." Remeir ignored him and slid out her bedroll from her knapsack. As she started to unfold it, she glanced her companion's bag. "Is your stuff alright? It looks soaked."

"That's because it is. I cannot understand how I am the unlucky one in this situation. Other than those silly braids of yours, you along with all of your things are completely dry," he noted, fishing through his belongings. "Maybe it's because Lady Mara shines on my every step," she cooed. "Well, your Lady would sure be kind to shine a bit of light in my direction, as well." Sure enough, he retrieved a damp bedroll. "Oh, dear," she voiced. "Oh dear, indeed..." Miraak released a groan of annoyance and welcomed it on the cold floor. "Would you... like to share mine?"

A brief, uncertain silence was exchanged between the two. With Remeir's cheeks becoming the same pigment as her red strands, she started to frantic. "I-I mean, you probably won't like it since it'll be a tight squeeze. But it's better than sleeping on hard rock, right?" she clipped. Miraak took a moment to think it over. "Alright."

That night, Remeir was overwhelmed with all types of emotions. The soft glow of the campfire was able to ease her mind a tad, but viewing the large silhouette of Miraak's shadow flicker against the cave wall, it didn't do much help. She couldn't put her finger on it. It wasn't that she was afraid of him. His entire aura was just so overpowering to her. It was like sleeping next to a docile bear. The young elf stiffened after feeling his back press further into hers as he slept. He seemed awfully comfortable for someone who despised being even remotely close to another person.

He was so warm. She was surprised he produced so much body heat, which was the contrary to his icy persona. In all honesty, Remeir often admitted to herself that he was quite cute. He was strong, of course he was. He made made that clear whenever he was able, no matter the time nor place. But he was just so adorable! As her brain rambled on, Remeir neglected to notice him reposition himself on his other side to where his chest was firm against her back. She let out a tiny squeak in response. No longer was this man "adorable", he was flatout terrifying! "Miraak," she sounded. He was too deep in his slumber to reply.

When she attempted to wriggle some space between then, her actions were shot down upon feeling the sensation of Miraak's arms curling around the small of her form. Remeir's sanity was now dangling by a thread. He was so incredibly close to her in this moment, if his mask wasn't working as a barrier, he'd be kissing her neck! She nudged and squirmed and continued to make little attempts of stirring him from his unconscious oasis, but alas she ended up in failure each time.

"Zu'u los hin..."

The scrambled woman's breath had caught in her throat. She wasn't exceedingly fluent in Dovahzul like Miraak, but she was able to catch only his sleep-slurred words. "I am yours," he had said. What was that supposed to mean?? Rem prayed to every Aedra and Daedra that he wasn't dreaming of anything suggestive while holding her in such a way. Other than his odd choice of words and affectionate touch, he showed no signs of having any explicit intent.

Over the minutes, Remeir gradually released any pent-up tension she held and let herself become engulfed by the larger figure behind her. Miraak's legs softly entangled with her own and her heartbeat fell into the same rhythm as his. It was strange. She'd forgotten how safe it felt to be coddled by another person. She knew it wouldn't last, though she wished it would. Once he found out what he was doing, it would be the last time she would ever be caressed by him. That much upset her.

But little did the Last Dragonborn know, Miraak was awake the entire time.

-------------------------------------------------

God I literally love those two too much

#miraak #skyrim oc #elder scrolls #tesblr #dunmer #miraak x ldb #first dragonborn #one shot #fluff #dragon priest

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just-someone-who-likes-to-write · 4 years ago

Text

Nuada’s Date

(Requested by @thepjofanqueen: Hi I’d like to request a Prince Nuada x reader where he has trouble admitting his feelings so he just kisses the reader and maybe takes her on a little date )

(A/N): Again I am sorry for being late and if this story is too fluffy. other than that I hope you enjoy

Warning: Grammatical Error, mostly Fluff, Angst if you squinted your eyes.

Word Count: 5,355

Nuada moved swiftly around the training room with his staff held tightly in his hands as he struck the dummy around points that would have been fatal to an actual living being. He stopped on his tracks having enough training for today, as he turned around to leave to his room his eyes scanned the room and he could see the glances he got from the other agents. All were impressed by his skills, however, there was a specific pair of eyes that he wanted to be trailed on him but unfortunately, when he found her she was focused on her own training with a colleague of hers. His brows furrowed in annoyance as he took his belongings and marched out of the training area to his room. She never looks his way when he does something that is worth attention. Nuada's eyes widened slightly as he realized what he had just thought. He groaned at himself.

"Why do I still keep thinking of her?" He asked himself as he reached his room.

It all started when he first started going on missions with the Red Demon and the walking fish. He thought her to be only an extra agent that was sent to make sure they get the job done. However, she turned out to be one of the few essential workers whose importance could reach the Demon's. He was impressed by with her not only when they were on missions but when she voiced her opinion confidently or presented alternatives on how they should deal with a creature, which saved not only the humans but also other creatures lives, or when she defended the other creature's actions to Manning through meetings that he couldn't come up with a reply except "We protect humans, it's our job.". Those thoughts of her made a small smile spread unconsciously that he had to force away when he realized it.

Even if she is a human she's still a selfless, strong, and smart one. He respected (Y/n). That's what he thought at least. he was sure that the only emotion he had for the human was "Respect", which he gave it only to a few but then other feelings started to erupt within him that confused him greatly. He wanted to hear her voice more, wanting to smile whenever he saw her happy and wishing pain upon whoever dared to anger her or make her frown. He doesn't remember when did he start feeling like this towards her, but what he knew is that it is driving him crazy.

A knock pulled him out of his thoughts and when he snapped his head to look at the door he could already tell who was it.

"You may enter." He called. The door opened and it was as he suspected his dear sister Nuala.

"Good evening, brother." She greeted with a smile.

"Good evening." He greeted back with a nod before turning back to resume changing his clothes.

Nuala's smile vanished from her face and was replaced with a small frown when she heard the tone of his voice.

"Brother..." She called again as she took a step forward, Nuada hummed as a respond not facing her yet, Nuala dismissed the act. "Tell me what is bothering you."

"Nothing is bothering me." He answered, which made Nuala chuckle. Nuada turned to look at his sister with a raised brow. "What is so funny?"

"That despite having both mental and physical connection that allows us to experience whatever the other is feeling you still try to hide from me." She said with a smile.

Nuada's brows furrowed in annoyance at her words, he knew that the only person he can't hide his true feelings from is his dear sister. Nuala sat on his bed and patted the area to her left, seeing no use in hiding he submitted and went to sit beside her.

"Now tell me what is troubling you, dear brother." she started gently. "What makes you feel so many things at once?"

"It is more of "Who is"." He answered with a sigh.

"A person?" Nuala perked up at his answer. he nodded. "Who is it?"

He didn't answer. Nuala looked at her brother with a look of bewilderment, he has hint foreign look on his face that she saw him wear a very...very long time ago when they were just kids. He used to have that look whenever he gets caught after causing mischief... Her dear brother was feeling embarrassed. Nuala had to bite her lip to she won't smile, fearing that Nuada would misunderstand her delight for a mockery.

"Who is it, brother?" She asked again after a long silent pause.

"It's... a.. a human." He struggled as he forced out half the answer as he titled his head down, to hide his face with his hair. Nuala's eyes widened.

"A human?" She asked again unsure if she heard right and he nodded confirming it.

Nuala couldn't hide the smile anymore as it spread across her face. She was feeling so happy at the moment because of two reasons, the first being that she identified the feeling that he was struggling with as love and the second was that his love interest was a human which was very intriguing.

"I am so happy that you found someone to love brother." The moment those words left her mouth Nuada turned sharply to her with a look of displeasure.

"I do NOT love a human!" He spat his words with disgust.

Sensing his sister's jolt of fear at his outburst Nuada forced himself to take deep breaths to calm himself but he doesn't seem to be able to. He turned around to the door wanting to leave, Nuala opened her mouth to call for him but she didn't get the chance.

"I need to meditate in the fresh air and clear my mind, excuse me." He said before leaving the room with Nuala who was concerned by her brother's behavior.

---

Nuada walked down the halls after returning from his meditation feeling a bit better of everything that happened today. all he wanted now was to return to his room and enjoy a good night's sleep.

"Nuada!... There you are!"

...Or maybe not.

The Elf didn't need to turn around to know that the caller was none other than Hellboy. When he got close enough Hellboy wrapped his arm around Nuada's neck surprising him as they continued walking.

"I have been looking for you everywhere man, where were you?" Asked the demon.

"I was meditating outside." Answered Nuada as he tried to pray the red demon's arm away but to no avail.

"Say how about you come over for a while I want to talk to you about something." Said Hellboy ignoring Nuada's previous answer.

"What do you want?" Asked Nuada as he tried to stop but he was forced to continue moving.

"You will find out soon."

That's the only answer he got as he was forced to take different routes that lead to where Hellboy took him. Nuada just gave in and went along wishing for everything to be over already. It didn't take long for them to reach the library and when the double doors opened Nuada was surprised to see that they weren't alone. His sister, the demon's spouse, and the fish were here as well. When Hellboy finally let go of him Nuada looked around the room at everyone before turning back to the demon.

"What is the meaning of this?" He asked not liking whatever they were planning.

"Relax princy, we are here to help." Said Hellboy as he made his way to where his spouse sat.

"Help me?" Nuada asked raising a brow in confusion. His eyes scanned the room again and he could see that everyone was looking at him with excitement that worried him.

"Yeah, Nuala told us you have an interest in someone." Said Liz with a smile.

Nuada's eyes widened before looking to his sister with dangerously narrowed eyes, that didn't phase Nuala, who kept a smile.

"I thought it would be a good idea to get the help of the others since they as well experienced love." She explained to him. Nuada almost growled in anger at the word "Love".

"I do not love her!" He exclaimed at his sister, but no one was phased by his outburst.

"Oh, it's a girl." Said Hellboy with a grin.

"Yes, a human girl." Said Nuala with a nod.

"Nuada loves a human girl." Said Liz who was surprised.

"Does she work here?" Asked Hellboy.

"That is none of your business." Snapped Nuada at him, getting more irritated by them.

"How interesting." Mused Abraham and when everyone turned to him they saw he already placed his hands on the glass towards Nuada. "She does work here, a close colleague in fact."

That was the last straw for Nuada, he pulled out his blade and marched towards Abraham's tank.

"Get out of my mind you damned creature-"

"Whoa Whoa Whoa!!" called Hellboy blocking Nuada's way, to protect Abe. "Calm down there, blue didn't mean it."

"If he dared to go into my mind again I will not hesitate to slice him into-"

"He has feelings for (Y/n)." Said Abraham interrupting Nuada's threat.

Everyone was surprised by the discovery they turned to look at Nuada only to see him frozen in place staring at the ground with wide eyes. He has been found out.

"You like (Y/n)?" Asked Hellboy with a grin.

"I'm leaving this place." Said Nuada as turned on his heels to leave the library.

"Brother wait!" Called Nuala but she was ignored.

The prince was so angry and dare he say also embarrassed at being found out. he just wanted to be alone, not even want to be near his sister for a while, this should have been a secret between them, but she went and told... Them. Nuada's thoughts were cut off when he felt arms wrapped around him and left him up, he knew by the brute action it was the demon but what shocked him is the fact that he was caught off guard.

"Let go of me you brainless-"

"Yeah yeah just set down and shut up for a sec would ya." said Hellboy before forcing Nuada to sit beside his sister.

"Brother I am sorry for planning all this from behind you back." Said Nuala sincerely as she placed her hand above her brother's. "I just want to help reach the one you love and be happy."

"I don't love her." Said Nuada his voice a few more irritated.

"What do you feel towards her then?" Asked Liz.

"Respect, that is all I feel for her." He answered.

"Liar." Said Nuala and when Nuada turned to face her he realized that his hand is still linked with his sister's.

He quickly pulled his hand away making Nuala flinch.

"I'm sorry it was by accident." She said honestly.

He knew it was a habit his sister could never control but it still annoyed him at times. Nuada looked up to them seeing that they all were eager to know more, there was no chance of escaping, he knew that, and so with a sigh of defeat, he decided to just give in and get over with it.

"Yes, but I still don't understand what I feel towards her." He confessed. "I didn't lie when I said I respected her, but respect isn't the only thing I feel, there are more but I don't know what they are, these feelings are so foreign to me."

Silence filled the room as they all were surprised that he confessed the truth, Hellboy broke the silence.

"She accompanies almost your every thought, you will complain about her but you know that they are empty complaints, you try to impress her without even realizing it, and lastly the mere mention of her name makes you feel... weird in here." He finished point to his chest. Nuada's golden eyes widened at his words.

"How did you know?" Nuada asked Hellboy chuckled at his reaction.

"Because that's how I felt towards Liz at first before understanding what it was." He answered.

"I felt the same thing for Nuala." Said Abe from behind the glass. "I always tried to find what she liked to I can try to like them to and hope that the common interest would bring us closer."

"You didn't that, I liked you from the first time." Confessed Nuala with a smile.

Abe stammered in embarrassment at her words making everyone laugh in the room except for Nuada who was deep in thought.

"What if the feeling I have for her not "Love" but something else?" He said making them stop laughing and look at him confused. "How can I confirm it?"

A grin blasted across Hellboy's face.

"I know just the thing!"

---

You walked down the hallway your head bounding from the lack of sleep. you wanted nothing more than to take a day off and spend the day sleeping but you couldn't last time you took a day off an Elven prince broke in and almost killed Red. You shock your head of the thought of the handsome prince and tried to concentrate on what you have to do today but your thought kept drifting to him. images of him training invaded your mind, his body was built yet he moved so gracefully. Another image of him with Nuala and being a good brother, or him being good with animals. You couldn't help the blush at the thought of him or know how to deal with the butterfly in your stomach whenever he was near. You can't ignore it.

You have a crush on Prince Nuada the rightful king of the Bethmoora clan, a strong warrior with a good brain on his shoulders and that damn charming smile.

But you have to get over such a silly crush. because not only was he out of your league but also because he loathes humans. He does work alongside you and even protected you a few times from death or fatal injuries but that's only because he is forced to. there was no way in hell you can be with Nuada.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when the opposite side of you Nuada was walking towards you. Speaking of the devil. You suppressed your blush and forced yourself to look professional, you prepared yourself to give a greeting of some sort, a simple "Good morning" would do, he never was a talker and you are a human so he will probably ignore you, maybe just a polite smile with a nod would do. However, with all the thinking you did, you didn't prepare yourself for him walking straight towards you. Did he want something? did you do something?... How do you look do you look? do you look tired? you hoped not. You stopped in your place, and he slowed down as he came closer to you confirming that he did want something from you.

"Good morning Nuada." You greeted with a smile, thankful that your voice didn't give away the nervousness you felt.

Nuada just stood there staring down at you as if he was thinking something over. Despite the smile that you still kept your anxiety was growing. what did he want?. He took a few steps closer to you, too close for your liking, and before you could question him he placed his hand on your right cheek which made you freeze at the contact, but what really caught you off guard is when he leaned forward and connected his lips to your own.

Your eyes widened with shock as you let out a small muffled sound of surprise. Your (E/c) stared back to his golden once, he looked so calm. The kiss wasn't a deep one, just a simple one. when he pulled away he closed his eyes as if in deep thought before finally speaking.

"Tomorrow evening I will take you somewhere so we can spend some time together so we can get to know each other more, don't worry about "where" just wear something nice and wait for more to get you." He then turned to walk away. "Have a good day."

You just stood there your mouth hung open trying to process what the hell just happened.

"...D .. Did he just...order me out?"

---

you looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, your (H/c) was done the way you like it and wore a halter (F/c) dress which was below your knees. you took a deep breath to try and calm yourself for your "Date". You had no clue what to expect today all you knew was that you had to look nice, because of that you decided to look casual for whatever he had for you in store. Just then there was a knock on the door making your heart jump.

He is here.

You another took a deep breath to calm your self before walking to the door and opening it. You opened your mouth to greet him but your voice didn't come out. Nuada was wearing black and red royal clothes with the golden seal of his clan on his abdomen. He was well dressed and looked elegant, a true prince charming standing before you.

"You... look beautiful."

His words broke you our of your train of thought. you looked up meeting his golden eyes that stared down at you with a soft look. You blushed slightly at his comment.

"Th... Thanks!" You burst out but clear your throat trying to look calm. "You don't look bad yourself."

You said with a grin, causing him to show a grin on his own at your words. Your heart skipped a beat.

"So..." He offered his forearm like a gentleman. "Shall we?"

You were surprised by the action but smiled none the less to him before hocking your arm to his. As you walked silently your mind kept wondering about your choice of clothes. Nuada looked as if he was dressed for a ball while you looked like you were going to a hangout. Maybe you should have changed? is it too late to ask to go back and change? what would you change to?

...Wait a moment.

"Nuada..." He called he turned his head to you. "Where are we going?"

Your question made a troubled look to cross his face for a just a moment before he looked back forward with his nonchalant stare. He stayed quiet for a moment before he finally answered.

"I don't know as well." He confessed.

You raised your brow in confusion at his words. how can he not know? you wanted to ask him further but you stopped when you were met with the double doors of the library. How did we get here so fast? You heard a sigh and looked back to Nuada and saw that the troubled look was back on his face. He stared at the door, contemplating if he should go in or not. In the end, he placed his pale hand on the handle and twisted the nub opening the door. Your eyes widened slightly at what you saw.

The usually messy library with scattered books and the dusty statue was now clean and organized, the desk and chairs there were in the small circle of books were replaced with a dinner table for two with a patch of red roses in the middle. the light from Abe's now clean blues waters gave the sight a more beautiful touch.

"N...Nuada this looks... so beautiful." You turned to look up to him with a smile. "Did you do all this?"

"Hmm... I.. had some help." He said with a hint of hesitation as is he was unsure which was unusual on him but you didn't care as you walked into the room with Nuada behind you.

If you had glanced back you would have seen the shocked look on Nuada's face.

After he confessed his feelings towards you, each one of them started babbling pieces of advice on what he should do. His sister and her lover had said to try and befriend her first and built our relationship from there. I rejected that because I didn't want and wait until I am too late. Elizabeth said to ask her on an outing... "A date" for us to set together and get to know each other more. I liked the idea because it will show my intentions with her from the start and will make things easier. Hellboy advised me to just kiss her and my feelings for her will be clear. Of course, the others and I rejected the idea, because it was wrong to just go and kiss someone without consent. so the plan was set, they well prepare a dating environment for us and all I had to do is "Ask her out". That was the plan. However, when he stood so close to her he couldn't help his feelings as it pressured him to act on the red Demon's advice give in to the temptation of the kiss and as a gentleman, he was ashamed of such action...

Well... almost ashamed.

You were so amazed by everything around you, it must have taken Nuada a lot of work to make this place look so nice. you reached for one of the chairs but Nuada beat you to it as he pulled it for you. you blushed at his action remembering why you were here in the first place.

"Thank you." you said as you sat down.

"My pleasure." He said with a nodded and a smile before sitting in front of you.

a weighty silence filled the room as none of said anything, but the silence was short-lived as soft music started to play. Did he time the music player?

"Thank you for accepting my invitation..." He said earning your attention. "Even though it was in such short notice."

"Oh.. that's alright, But I would be lying if I said I wasn't surprised by it."

"I'm deeply sorry for that." He immediately replied.

"Again it's alright." You said as a bashful smile crossed your face. "Because... it made me happy."

You could see how your answer made Nuada's eyes widen slightly at your answer as he was not expecting it. a soft smile broke on his face.

"I'm glad-"

"W...Would you like some drinks!"

Both you and Nuada jumped at the sudden interruption. you turned your head to the side to see none other than Abe standing there, wearing a tuxedo that was wide open around his neck so it won't press against his gills, and you didn't need glasses to see that he looked so anxious and how clear it was that he didn't want to be here. you glanced at Nuada and saw how shocked he also was by Abe's presence which meant that he didn't force the poor thing to act as a waiter for them.

"What... are you doing here?" Nuada asked between his greeted teeth. you can see how hard he was trying not to blow up in front of you.

"uh...Hmm.." Abe struggled to talk, then he lifted a bottle of red wine with a weary smile. "Uh..D..Drinks?"

Nuada snatched the bottle from abe's arms, making the blue creature flinch.

"Leave." The prince ordered as he stared daggers into Abe.

Abe wanted to say something more but quickly left because he was afraid of what to come. Nuada placed the bottle down on the table, before looking back at you. his anger was replaced with a troubled face.

"I'm deeply sorry." He muttered looking down at his plate.

"Did you..." You didn't say any more just gestured to where abe left indicating what you were asking.

"Oh no!" Nuada quickly answered, almost looked offended. "I am barely able to stand seeing him around my dear sister let alone force him to serve through our..."

"Date?" You finished seeing how he trailed off.

You almost swear that you saw a golden blush on his pale cheeks.

"That's what you humans call it, Yes." He answered with confidence. You smiled making him almost lost his demeanor.

"So tell me, your majesty, what do you call it." You asked jokingly but he didn't seem to get it.

"Please, call me by my name." He requested politely. "And there are two words that I think are proper for what we are in now."

"Oh really?... and what are they?" You asked curios.

"The first word is "Wooing"...."

He reached for the bottle of wine and opened it with ease, not struggling with the crock, he poured for you first before himself, filling the glasses to half. and he did it all while keeping a charming smile your way. You were definitely wooed.

"A... And the other word?" You cursed at your self for letting your voice break, But Nuada seemed unbothered.

He put the bottle aside and held his wine glass up to you. his golden eyes were staring through you, one of them was clear to you the other hidden behind the liquid causing the redness of the wine to mix with the gold of his eye.

"The other word, my dear... is "Courting"." he continued, as he brought the class to his pale lips. "Which if things went well tonight we might reach it."

If you were doubting his intentions towards you before you didn't anymore.

"Oh..." That's all that you could say as your face burned red at his words. he just chuckled at your reaction.

But again your special time was interrupted.

"Hold her hand." Someone whispered from above you.

You and Nuada kept eye contact, you were holding back laughter because you knew who's that voice belonged to and Nuada was clinching his glass as his eyes narrowed in annoyance. You both looked up and kneeling in front of the second-floor railing is none other than the red demon himself who was grinning down at you both.

"Hey Red." you called waving your hand to him.

"Hey (Y/n)." he waved back to you.

"What are you doing here?" Asked Nuada as he massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to calm the headache.

"Being your wingman." He answered simply. making you giggle.

"I don't need your help." retorted Nuada as he glared up at Hellboy.

"You sure did when you took my advice to kiss her."

Your giggle died as you looked up to Nuada whose eyes were widened at being found out. His golden blush was clear now as he looked down avoiding your eyes, your own blush returned. Did he come to Red for relationship advice?... And acted by it!?

"Please leave..." Nuada muttered but he was ignored.

"did you like the food?" Red continued. "I thought stake was the best choice for a romantic dinner."

"You prepared all this?" You asked with a raised brow.

"Hell yeah, I did..." he paused as he thought it over. "Well, I got some help."

"Some help?" Called Liz from a place behind you. "Me, Abe and Nuala did all the work!"

Just on cue Nuala and Abe who was still wearing the tuxedo came out following after. Liz and Red were bickering again and you just stayed silent staring forward at Nuada who was burring his face in his hands, giving up on what is happening around him. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned to see Nuala smiling down at you.

"Hello (Y/n)." she greeted you. "It is a pleasure to finally meet my future sister in law."

Your eyes widened at her words before she enveloped you in a hug and when you glanced at Nuada from the corner of your eyes you can see him bury himself further in his hands at his sister's words.

"Everyone please calm down-"

Abe piped in trying to calm Hellboy and Liz but his voice added more to the noise, and Nuala also was telling you of how excited she is for the time you will spend together. Everything around you was too much to handle. you thought that you will have a nice night with your crush, but now you just wanted to go back to your room and forget this night.

"ENOUGH!"

Nuada's voice boomed around the room as he slammed his fists on the table, causing the objects on it to fall off and everyone to stay in silence the only sound going around is the sound of the background music. Nuala pulled herself away from you as she stared worriedly at her brother. Nuada was huffing while clenching his fists tightly. Without another word he marched around the table, gripping your arm forcing you to exit the room along with him, leaving the rest standing there stunned. You struggled to keep up with Nuada as he took you with him to god knows where.

"Nuada..." You called but he didn't answer, you called again this time louder. "Nuada you are hurting my arm."

At those words, Nuada froze in his place as he let go pf you as if you were fire. You rubbed the sport he held, hoping that a bruise won't form.

"I'm deeply sorry..." He breathed out.

You looked up to him and in his golden eyes, you could see that he was... ashamed.

"It's ok." you said. "It didn't really hurt I just said that to make you stop-"

"No I didn't mean-... well I am sorry for that-..but I am sorry for...for this night-" He stopped himself, closed his eyes, and took a few deep breaths to collect his thoughts.

"What I want to say is, I am sorry for everything that accrued tonight." He started as he opened his eyes to look at you. "Tonight was supposed to be special between us. I didn't lie when I said that I wished to court you someday because... I have these feelings for you that I had for a long while now and still don't understand fully... But what I do know is that I want to know you more and grow closer to you."

"Then... why didn't you say that from the start?" You asked.

"Because I didn't know what to do." He admitted. "I never felt this way towards anyone through all these ages I lived..."

"So you went to Red for advice?" You retorted making him chuckle.

"A truly horrible idea I must confess."

You both shared a small laugh when you laughter died down you looked down at your watch then back to Nuada.

"You know, there is still some time." you informed. "Do you wanna spend it together?"

"Actually, I do." He grinned as he offered his hand, wishing to lead you again.

You smiled before taking his hand and walked together. Once again Nuada started leading you through the hallways and this time you didn't need to ask as you knew exactly where he was taking you. After convincing the guards that you were only going to take a few hours, you and Nuada exited the building and were welcomed by the stary dark sky and the soft sound of crickets.

With your arms hocked together, you and Nuada walked around the premises while talking about interest, what you like and dislikes, and your lives before the B.P.R.D. There were a few times where you stopped because a guard dog ran up to you both, the first time gave you a mini heart attack because you thought that it will attack Nuada but was surprised when you saw how it greeted Nuada like a long lost owner. It was a cute sight to see the known dangerous warrior be adored by the dog and him spoiling the animal with praise and scratches. You of course had to swear to never tell a soul of what you saw.

You swore in exchange for him to take you on another date without acting on another of Hellboy's "Advice", which he agreed to wholeheartedly with a wide smile.

---

I hope you all enjoyed this story and if you have requests, please wait until the next “Open requests” and thank you!

#prince nuada x reader #nuada x reader #hellboy the golden army #hellboy 2 the golden army

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bard-llama · 3 years ago

Text

Ask Game: What Happens Next?

So, I have... a lot of WiPs, as we all know. On AO3, for Witcher All Media Types, I have 104 works that are incomplete. Probably 4 of those are collections that only have 1 chapter, so we’ll ignore those, BUT, for the remaining 100 - send me a title and I will tell you what is planned to happen next in that fic/series.

Specifically, I have no idea when I will get back to some of the older fics, like the TWN ones, so if you liked those and are curious about what was planned, feel free to ask! Sometimes the answer might be “fuck me if I know”, but usually I do at least have SOME sort of plan! And doing this as an ask game seems a lot easier than trying to type up the plans for all 100 of these.

So, the list of titles is under the cut, because there’s a lot of them, but send me a title and I will tell you what is intended to happen next! I might even share snippets from the future where I have them!

Fic Titles, broken out by media type:

The Witcher Netflix

Families of Choice Series

Yenn & Djinn

Mousesack’s Educational Retreat for Proper Young Nobles

Viscount Pankratz and Wife

Making Amends

Cintra Happily Ever After/The Lion, The Witcher, and The Hedgehog

Five Almost Kisses and One Happily Ever After

If Only We Could Turn Back Time

The Witcher Games

Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria/(Im)Perfect Strangers

Love Shack

The Chase

Cards Out For Your Country

Eye on You

Leap of Faith

And Ghosts Did Shriek and Shrill

Petals and Stripes

Brewing Romance and Dissent

Can’t We All Just Get Oolong?

The Value of a Man

King and Country

The language of friendship is not words but meanings

Orificial Business

The First Seeds of Trust

What Happens in the Cave-In Stays in the Cave-In

Under Pressure

To Weave the Strands of Fate

Time is Cruel, To Rob Us from Ourselves

Every Kiss Begins With Kayran

Pining and Poignards

Great Eggspectations

A Hard Day’s Night/At The Day’s End

The Portrait of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

A Stubbornly Persistent Illusion

Deep Inside Me

That Damn Chaperon

Olfucktory Senses

False Positive

Commander Roche’s Secret Lover

Old Friends, Like Old Swords, Still Are Trusted Best

Second Chances

You Look So Good in Blue

(Please) Keep Me (For Real)/Of Ownership, Trauma, and (Mis)Communication

Three’s A Crowd, Four’s A Family

The Woodland Fox and The Temerian Hound/Cat’s Outta The Bag

How to Fluster an Elf

To Claim You As My Own

If You Wanna Be My Lover (you gotta get with my friends)

With A Look I May Not Meet/Eye of the Storm

Love’s Gordian Knot

Where You Belong

Lambert's Guide on How To Get It On

Rusted Iron (Wolf)

Trust is the Purest Form of Love

Once You Go Blue, You’ll Always Screw

Surefire Harm

Gwent, The Good Old Game

Love is Belonging

Toying With Love/Mother Knows Best (Or Does She?)

Love Can Seldom Be Given Later

The Greatest Form of Love

Thronebreaker

Triptych

The Best Laid Plans

General Fine Ass

Everybody Needs a Friend

The Taint of the Common Man/A Queen's Pride

The Beginnings of a Beautiful Friendship

Marks of Love

Dancing Through Life

Familial Obligations

Safe as Houses

Pretty as a Picture

Failure to Communicate

Just Punishment

Bleeding Red (Lobinden)

Noblesse Oblige

Blood, Blackberries, and Broken Hearts

Conflict by (K)night

Indiscretions

Fool Me Twice (Shame on Me)

What You See Is What You Get

A Lover’s Favor

Between a Wall and a Hard Thigh

Crossovers

Fruits of Diplomacy

In Search of Pack/Down The Path To Broken Chains

#ask game #the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher games #thronebreaker #WiPs

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beautifulterriblequeen · 4 years ago

Note

FIVE. FIVEFIVEIFBEIDBE

“Hasn’t this addiction done enough damage already?” Ethari’s voice emanated from beneath a mound of covers. Unlike his touch last night, his voice ran cold, like a distant icy stream.

Runaan froze in the dark, back to Ethari and the bed, hands clutching the small vial of nightsoul he didn’t think his husband even knew about. The assassin always took a sip early in the morning on his way out to train, when Ethari was still abed. Rayla had been living with them for a month now, and he’d never commented before.

“Runaan. I asked you a question.”

His hands tightened around the little glass container. “I heard you.”

“And?”

Runaan scrambled in the shadows, fearing what Ethari’s beams of light would reveal--to both of them. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I really don’t. He could mean many things. I’m just not assuming I know which one--

“Your vaunted quest for honor is driving me crazy, love. You’re never here anymore.”

...Oh. Not the nightsoul, then.

But Ethari wasn’t finished. Blankets rustled softly as he sat up. He drew a swirly on top of a sleeping potted mushroom on his nightstand, and it woke with a cool bluish glow. It cast Runaan’s shadow large on the wall in front of the assassin, and Runaan stilled amid his own darkness, not wishing to be seen. “The day we wed,” Ethari continued, “you said you were giving your heart to me. But we both know it already belonged to Xadia. I’m just your side piece. But it’s getting old watching you sneak out of my bed every morning to go spend all day with him instead.”

Runaan blinked at the unexpected metaphor. “Xadia has my heart,” he allowed slowly. “But I don’t kiss it on the mouth.” He pivoted, hiding the nightsoul vial behind his back.

Ethari’s eyes dragged down Runaan’s person, coolly appreciative of his bare chest and hip-hugging pants. The sight roused the craftsman from his blankets, but as he stepped closer, his expression was taut. “You’re letting it fuck you over, though.”

Runaan’s eyes widened at Ethari’s language.

Ethari shrugged one big shoulder. “Couldn’t be helped. It was punny. But my point still stands, Runaan. You’re more Xadia’s bitch than my husband right now, and I kind of hate it a little bit.”

Runaan stared, stricken, at Ethari’s tired anger. “I... I’m sorry...”

Ethari studied his face for a long moment, and a realization passed over him like the trailing edge of a dark cloud, lifting his brows and softening the lines of his mouth as the moonlight returned once again. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to sound like I’m angry with you. I’m not. Not really.”

“With Xadia, then?” Runaan asked softly. With my entire purpose for existing?

“Maybe a smidge.” Ethari eased closer, sliding warm hands down Runaan’s arms, drawing him into a hug. “I could never be angry with y- What’s this?” he asked, as his fingers found the vial Runaan had been hiding behind his back.

Runaan panicked and clutched it tightly, giving away its importance. Don’t see this. Don’t see me like this.

But Ethari’s fingers had always been quick. He had the vial liberated in half a second. Runaan didn’t know whether to parry or flee, so he tried to do both. A soft gasp of dismay fled his lips as one hand caught Ethari’s wrist, and his back foot retreated toward the bedroom door.

Ethari tightened his grip on the little container. His dark brows tightened into his analytical expression as he studied it, completely ignoring Runaan’s grip.

Runaan’s shoulders slumped. Still panicking and giving myself away around this elf, I see. Couldn’t ever hide anything for long.

Ethari turned the little vial around until he spotted the etched rune that held the nightsoul’s unnatural efficacy in place. His mouth fell open, and then he froze. Ethari was always in motion, even in his sleep. He was an elf of life and light and love. He couldn’t not move. But in that moment, Runaan saw all the light in his husband’s soul leave him, and he went still.

No. That’s my job. Come back.

He squeezed Ethari’s wrist hard. “I can explain.”

“You can’t even come close,” Ethari murmured through numb lips. “You know what nightsoul did to my uncle.”

Runaan did. He’d been the one to find him, lost within his own mind, wandering the Forest during a new Moon, shrieking like a soul being actively damned, unable to hold to his physical form any longer as the Moon’s power waned away. He’d watched Ethari’s uncle splinter into smoky shadow, still howling, until he blessedly vanished with one final anguished cry, released from his torment at last. And then he’d been foolish enough to tell Ethari the truth of what he’d seen.

“I know what I’m doing,” Runaan said. “It won’t end like that.”

“You’re saying he didn’t know what he was doing?” Ethari challenged.

Runaan’s gaze sharpened. “He didn’t. He used too much, too soon, and he-”

“He was eighty-four, Runaan. That’s not ‘soon.’“

“He wasn’t an assassin, either,” Runaan shot back. “Do you really think I have fifty more years in me, at the rate I’m going? I have to run full tilt across Xadia whenever Avizandum says so, and if I so much as sneeze wrong, the wrong people will die, and I might be one of them. I. Must. Be. Perfect. For as long as I have. I must be perfect. Do you see?” His chest heaved with too many emotions to name, and his eyes clung to Ethari’s, demanding understanding.

But Ethari was horrified. He thumbed the etched rune on the vial’s glassy surface.

One part deathberry extract, one part moonberry, and one part forbidden new moon magic, nightsoul was an accursed potion that had no business existing at all. The fact that it had to be coaxed into remaining in the world should have been a warning flag to all. But the desperate always found ways around the rules. Ethari had never expected his law-and-order husband to be one of them.

“Runaan... every time you drink this, you use up one day of your future.”

Runaan’s nod was crisp. “Yes. Exactly.”

“You’re shortening your lifespan.”

“I’m ensuring that I have a lifespan. This is just what it costs.”

Ethari’s bottom lip trembled. His eyes lingered on the vial in his hand, then they lifted to Runaan’s, revealing a watery shimmer. “Your life is not a currency to be spent, my heart.”

Runaan blinked in surprise. How could he not know, after all this time?

I am an assassin.

I am a tool.

I am Xadia’s will.

I am justice.

I am balance.

I am the sword.

I am the Way.

I am Moonshadow.

I am an assassin.

With steady brows and a tight jaw, Runaan murmured, “Ethari. My life has always been currency to be spent. I’m just choosing to spend a little of it for myself, before others choose the price for me. Because someone will, someday.”

Two tears slipped down Ethari’s cheeks, losing themselves along his blue markings. “But why? Why do you want to leave me sooner?” he begged.

Runaan’s control snapped, and he clutched at Ethari’s arms. “I don’t! I don’t,” he blurted. “Moon and shadow, Ethari. I take this so I’m good enough to come home my family at the end of every day. So I can survive long enough to train Rayla to survive everything the world will throw at her. So I can do the job, and spare anyone else from having to do it in my place. I take this so I can live to see as many days with you as I can wrest from my fate. I take this so that when I fall...” But he faltered, not wanting to speak of such things so blatantly.

Ethari let out a hurt growl. “No, there’s no stopping now. Say it. When you fall...” he prompted.

Runaan’s gaze dropped to Ethari’s pendant. “When I fall,” he dutifully continued, “I will have the bright memories of as many good days with you as I can carry. When I fall, whether to blade or shadow,” he added, tracing a finger lightly along his husband’s cheek, “I will have known thousands of days of your voluminous and refulgent love. And then, because of you, I will be worthy of dying a good death. Because of you, I will be ready to meet it.”

Ethari clapped a hand over a sudden sob. His head shook from side to side, hating Runaan’s soft words, hating Xadia, hating fate. Runaan gently pulled him into a hug and held him softly, feeling his shoulders shake. Ethari dug his fingers into Runaan’s ponytail and squeezed it, and his hot tears ran down Runaan’s chest as he buried his face against his husband’s neck.

“It’s not so bad, my heart,” Runaan said soothingly. “Every day, you have two of me at once. Twice my love.”

Ethari snorted wetly against his neck. “That explains your stamina last night.”

Runaan stiffened in surprise at Ethari’s unexpected direction, and he barked a sudden laugh. “That, too, my heart.”

Ethari stood straight again and wiped his eyes. “I’m never going to grow old with you, am I?” he asked in a trembling voice.

Runaan took a deep breath and felt the air of a future day fill his lungs. “Such was never our fate. My destiny was set long before I loved you.”

Ethari studied the vial of nightsoul with thoughtful brows and pursed lips. “I can’t bring myself to give this to you. But I will hold you while you take it.”

He opened his palm and let the vial rest there. Its dark liquid swirled ominously, promising twice the life for twice the cost and then some.

Runaan stepped into the circle of his free arm and let himself be held. Then he plucked the vial from Ethari’s hand, bit the stopper free with the side of his mouth, and spilled a measure of the dark concoction onto his tongue.

Ethari’s sudden kiss, hard and eager and moonlit with complexity, was everything he had ever wanted.

#tdp fanfic #ruthari ficlet #ruthari prompts #tdp angst #ruthari angst #angst #my writing #well hello dark subject we meet again #and look guys i put in a kiss anyway #that's the swirly on the sword i'm stabbing you with #big ruthari mood #my worldbuilding #ooo nightsoul so angstyyyy i love #ty dina for the prompt #really hit the spot

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lemurious · 4 years ago

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Like starlight turned to flame

for @alkarinqque for @officialtolkiensecretsanta

Happy holidays and thank you so much for a wonderful prompt! Hope you enjoy what it turned to! <3

cw: death

They stand before Eönwë, huddled in cloaks that offer little protection against the rain pelting their bodies, and their hands seek each other.

Elrond can barely focus on the question and does not understand why Eönwë even considers their kindred to be a choice, when to him it has only ever been family. How could he think of himself as anyone other than an Elf, Noldor and Sindar mixed, as his grey eyes and black hair can attest, and secretly, while berating himself for excessive pride, he likes to tell himself that he got the better parts of both. The boundless curiosity and the compassion. The courage and the protectiveness. Everything he and his brother have managed to scrounge up from their two sets of parents lost to the iron law of the Valar, whose emissary is now looking down at them, waiting for their response.

Elrond tears his gaze from the figure in shining mail, seemingly immune to the downpour, back towards the disorienting sight of a sunken shore, their homes now lying under the wave. He wonders if their grief will ever fade. This year, it has kept returning like a tide, swallowing him in the heavy silence of their childhood being gone, forcing him to pace the hallway of their ramshackle house until he would give in and knock on Elros’s door, curl up in a chair next to his brother to watch the flames dance in their fireplace through the long winter night. Together.

At least they have each other, he thinks, for the last fleeting moment before Elros squeezes his fingers hard enough to hurt. Before Elros looks at the Herald of the Valar and says in a voice loud and firm: “I choose to belong to the kindred of Men, my lord.”

---

Idril has dragged her husband through the crumbling tunnels and foaming waves, from the only home they have ever known turned to ash and ruin, through the doom that has been hanging over her head since she was too young to remember, through the wrath of all the Seas encircling Valinor, and she will be damned if she has to lose him to something as simple as death.

She stands tall and straight, a circlet of diamonds on her head, the steel of her feet shining like silver, Curufin’s best work, her eyes ablaze with the light of the Trees that could never be quenched, not even by the darkness of Helcaraxë.

Idril Silverfoot, who has walked through ice and looked death in the face and then dared to be happily married anyway, stares right into the face of Mandos and demands that Tuor be allowed to join her as one of the Eldar.

After all, even the Valar have admitted that Tuor has brought hope to Arda, ignoring her part as usual, though now she is glad about it, because it helps her make her case to keep Tuor with her, immortal as he secretly believes himself to be anyway, having been raised among the Elves.

“Your plea has been accepted,” says Mandos, “but the balance shall be retained. One born from you will have to leave the Elvenkind and become a mortal Man instead.”

She attempts to argue some more, but Mandos is implacable, and in any case she cannot think far beyond the joy of having rescued her husband from what they both consider to be the Doom of Men – what cruel foolishness would it be to call it a Gift?

She already knows that they will not take her son, who has been cursed to ride the skies with a Silmaril in the front of his ship, a mortal body could never survive the slow, quiet destruction wrought by the fire imprisoned within the jewel.

Idril’s grandsons are all but lost to her, she has never met them, even their own mother barely knew them and could tell her little about them when questioned.

Idril has always been a survivor and she knows that it inevitably means making the kind of choices that could pull her apart if she is not careful enough. She only hopes that whoever will be born of her blood and destined for mortality will be strong enough to make their life a happy one in spite of all their losses.

---

Before the bleakness of the aftermath, there was the terror of the War, and just before that, a moment of respite, a time to set aside the fears, and learn to fight, and sing, and gather mussels on the shore.

A moment to hold the hands of the two Elves who have turned from captors into fathers in record time, to call their names to ward against the nightmares. A moment to feel like children again, like the sons of someone still within their reach.

Elros swears to treasure every one of these moments after the evening when, during one of his solitary strolls along the beach, a figure rises from the waves and introduces himself as Ulmo, the Lord of Waters.

Elros shivers in fear, frozen on the spot and unable to move even if the alternative is drowning. But Ulmo does not threaten to drown him, instead, he looks on as if with a great sorrow, and tells of yet another doom that the Valar have now hung above their heads.

“You will be asked to choose,” he says. “And if neither of you accepts the Doom of Men, Lord Mandos will choose for you.”

Elros has never considered himself of any kindred but Elven, but he knows that neither has Elrond, and more, that Elrond, if given a choice, would spend his entire life learning the Elven lore by night, healing the wounds left by the long sequence of wars by day.

Meanwhile Elros has to admit to himself that he does not have any passion save the vague but persistent wish to one day become a great lord and rule a kingdom, a prospect so dim, given his circumstances, that he keeps scolding himself for naivety.

He could become a Man, he thinks, but he feels so young when confronted by the enormity of the decision. So childlike. He just does not want to, which reminds him of his tears when he clutched his mother and watched her kiss him and his brother and walk away. The only clear memory he has of her.

He is too scared to accept this doom for himself. Could he do it for his brother?

---

“You have been deep in thought all day, and they do not seem to be pleasant thoughts,” says Maglor to Elros, who keeps lingering in the kitchen after dinner, long after Elrond ran off back to the library as always, and Maedhros went outside to try to repair the roof that has just started leaking again. “Would you care to share them with me?”

Elros shakes his head. He tells himself that he should not add to his father’s worries, though deep inside he is terrified that Maglor would make him choose. Or that Elrond would find out, and would then insist of taking the curse upon himself instead, and he would never, ever be able to forgive himself for dragging his brother into it. Yet he feels that if he had to face all of it alone he would crumble, and then the truth would come out anyway, with all its terrible consequences.

“Atya, have you ever regretted something you have not done? Especially, something that – that could have helped one of your brothers, though he would have never found out?”

Maglor looks shocked. He turns away and visibly struggles to compose his face before answering. “Too many times, kid. I should have… told my brothers not to follow our father. Should have stopped them at the gates of Doriath… Should have… should have stood in the place of the one my brother loved the most, on that muddy battlefield, for maybe then he would have lived and my brother would still be happy and carefree. Should have kept all my brothers from pursuing the Silmarils at any cost.”

“But you could have been killed!”

“I would not seek death, but it is not always a wrong choice to risk your own life to protect those you love.”

Elros suddenly lunges at Maglor, wrapping his arms around his waist, and hugs him tight.

“Thank you, Atya,” he sniffles. “Could you sing me a lullaby tonight, as I fall asleep?”

“Tonight and any other night, for as long as you wish,” Maglor replies, a little confused and worried about what has just happened. Well, it is a miracle those kids have managed to be as cheerful as they are, most of the time, given what they already had to live through.

---

Elrond lets go of Elros’s arm in disbelief. That is what Elros chooses to do? Has he ever really known his brother? And does it mean - does it mean that after such a brief lifespan of Men they will never again -- he turns to look at Elros, to yell at him, call him a traitor.

He sees that Elros has gone deadly quiet, teeth clenched, staring straight ahead, but Elrond knows his brother and can tell that he is shaking in fear.

Elrond’s anger evaporates in an instant, as he pulls Elros into a massive hug and whispers in his ear: “It will be alright. I understand. It may not be my choice, but you will always be my brother.” He feels Elros relax with every word.

---

Mandos is kind. He gives Elros many times the lifespan of Men and lets him build a home halfway between his mother and his brother, though he misses his fathers the most, all of them, and all of them are lost – in the fire, in the sky, on the shores. Like the Silmarils.

Elros raises children of his own, and tells them that their siblings will be the strongest bond they will ever have, so they would better cherish it. They listen, these kids with dark grey eyes, too large in their faces, too solemn for their age. They had to grow up quickly, as befits the children of Men and the heirs of the High King.

Uncle Elrond visits every year and tells them stories, and teaches them the arts of healing, and stands with Elros on the tallest tower watching the stars fade into the West, awaiting one of them, forbidden for the other.

They whisper their memories to be kept for as long as one of them lives, and swear an oath to find each other, and all their parents, again, however long it took them and even if it meant going beyond the circles of Arda.

---

When time comes for him to leave, Elros does not even feel cheated, just ready. His children have long grown up, he has become a grandfather and a great-grandfather so many times he finds it difficult to remember all the names.

He calls for Elrond, who has been at his side for days, and suddenly there is a shadow on the other side of his bed, and a familiar voice begins a lullaby Elros remembers from his childhood. “Thank you, Atya,” he murmurs as the colors begin to fade.

In the end, he did not even have to lie, Elros thinks. It was his choice, perhaps for a different reason than Elrond might have guessed, but it was, truly, his, and it brought him the kingdom he did not dare to dream of, and the family he could have never imagined, loved even fiercer because of their mortality, like a flame that has its own beauty compared to the starlight.

He would make his choice a thousand times over, Elros admits to himself as the walls fade into the mist, and he feels more than hears the voice of Mandos rumbling in his ears, assuring him with the sadness of one who is forced to deal in law, and not in love, that he will grant the brothers their own oath in recompense for the ones he has bestowed upon them, that it will not be their final farewell.

#tss2020 #lemur writes #my fic #elrond #elros #idril #mandos #cw: death #maglor #a bit of kidnap dads

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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years ago

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Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop

I realized last night that that concept was the first I had written of Solas and Fane interacting in forever, and as such, I can’t stop now.

I’m like, ‘Okay, smut now. Waaaait...one more build up!’ And so, I present Fade shenanigans and more fluffy angssssssttttt! *slams down virtual document*

***

The scent of Gladiolus was the first thing Fane could detect as his mind disconnected from blackness. It was sweet, yet pleasantly mild, and slowly numbed the pains of his body and head, which were both throbbing in protest.

“Ugh..”, he heard himself grunt before he willed himself to open his eyes. He had a hazy recollection of everything, but mainly all the emotions he’d absorbed.

Trepidation, anxiety, sorrow, grief, happiness, love and joy in equal measures. Along with the magic he could remember kissing his face, that must have been why he had...ended up where he was currently.

Which was…?

Brightness immediately met him as Fane slowly opened his eyes, squinting a bit from the intensity before his vision acclimated. What he saw above him, realizing now that he was laying down, had his hazy mind clicking into place like a piece in a puzzle.

He knew this place - completely.

This place, with its crystal clear blue sky that still warbled like the tides of the ocean, and the almost overwhelming scent of Gladiolus, who’s sweetness reminded him of a fresh baked cake. This place, that felt so real, so tangible, as he ran a hand along the soft grass under his body and felt his eyes flutter at a whispering breeze. This place, that held a feeling of home, of safety, of grief, but made him only feel relief as each one soaked into his body. This place, where he could hear the delicate tinkle of wind chimes and the low hum of a baritone chorus in the air around him, the latter barely audible, even for a dragon, but it was there.

This place, where the rules of nature apply, but don’t. This place, where the imaginable became reality. This, where they had made a golden vow before only one returned with a usually composed face shattered and eternal eyes only harboring a well of tears for their other half, but refused to shed them due to guilt and self loathing.

Yes, he knew this place, even if he possessed none of which would tie him to it. Or, maybe he did have a link as he let his head roll to the left to glance down at the dormant mark upon his hand - watching it silently ebb with green light like a wisp.

It didn’t hurt anymore, surprisingly, but there would come a day when it would again. Though, there could be a chance, he knew, to--

Fane quickly abandoned that train of thought as he let his head lull back to stare upwards. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on what was to come, what many, many an argument had been about. No, now was the time to watch the sky and be welcomed back.

“Been a while.”, Fane murmured to the sky above, seeing how it shifted with the swaying of magic and spirits. “Yeah, I know. I should have come sooner..”, he continued to converse, able to understand what this foreign, but familiar sky wished to tell him.

It was saying, ‘Welcome home. We’ve been waiting.’ But it wasn’t the only one waiting for him if the mildly, mildly, panicked aura he could sense was any indication.

Solas was here, and of course, he was being his usual self with how he could hear furious muttering coming from the treeline to the meadow he was situated in.

“Every time, we are unprepared. Every time, and I still bend to match his passion.”, Solas’s voice reached him as it got closer. “I told him to be patient, but he never listens, never waits. Fenehdis lasa, ma’isensatha..”, the self conversation dying out upon that curse.

Fane couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh at that, the realm around him latching onto the sound greedily as if it had been deprived of such purity. Oh, this fool would be the death of him. One could never truly be prepared for everything, and the removal of his vallaslin had been--

His thoughts and amusement died out as Fane launched himself upright, momentarily getting smacked with a wave of dizziness before he shook it off. Now he knew precisely why he was here!

The vallaslin, or the lack thereof! The ritual! The magic had made him pass out!

“Gaps in my memory. Always gaps.”, Fane grumbled before whipping his head around for anything that could be reflective. He needed to be sure! He needed to see!

With a surprisingly graceful movement, he pushed himself to stand, wobbling slightly as he adjusted to the change around him, but steadied quickly. He nodded, shaking out his legs before resuming his search with his eyes. Reflective, reflective..

There was...nothing. No water, no shiny surfaces. There were only golden flowers that made a tight pang of longing replace the desire to see his unshackled face. He felt his eyes zero in one bloom, its petals still slightly closed as it seemingly trembled with fear and hesitation.

Fane frowned. That won’t do, he thought. Let me…

Fane slowly began to walk towards the shivering bloom, gracefully bending a knee before it. As he thought, it was trembling. It’s golden hue held a mild hesitance to join its fellows. It’s peeking crimson from within making an appearance on occasion as it seemingly sobbed. He felt his eyes narrow and soften at that as he reached a hand out carefully, lightly brushing a few fingers against outer petals.

“Shh. Do not fear the change to come, little bloom.”, he encouraged, watching as its shivering slowly calmed to where it was just lightly sobbing. “Look at me, see me, and accept that change can be beautiful, even if crimson and black loom overhead.”, his fingers glided up, tapping the now agape mouth of the flower. “We are what we are. There is no shame in that.”

With those words that he wasn’t even sure he was capable of ever saying, the fearful bloom calmed completely before it shined dimly. Fane watched without a shred of hesitation or any feeling of sickness as magic wrapped around a delicate bud like ribbons floating in the breeze.

“Observe and accept. Observe those who came before you, but accept that you can be different, but still stay the same as they.”, he whispered in fiery determination. That’s right. No matter their appearance, they belonged to the kin that bore them to begin with. He to the dragons, and this slowly morphing flower the Gladiolus of gold and crimson.

Those words seemed to give the struggling flower the push it needed because suddenly, the area around them lit up with not hues of gold and red, but rather, hues of white and blue. He watched with amazement as that essence wiggled into the ground, offering its gift to the others surrounding it before every single flower bore the same majestic colors of cerulean and ivory.

It was beautiful. It was magical. It was a change born of acceptance and desire. There was no more simple way to put it as twinkling specks of magic popped to release themselves from above before residual flecks sprinkled down like the snowflakes that he had once allowed to sit upon his tongue out of draconic curiosity.

And all Fane could think to say, as he heard a familiar intake of breath from behind that had him turning slightly towards it and how the array of blooms before them were awash in magical blue and purifying bleach was--

“We’re home, Solas.”, he said with a tight voice as the sprinkles of magic above kissed his skin with no pain. “We’re home..”

Fane watched as Solas’s unconcealed wonder at the display before them shifted to crushing adoration and relief, his face breaking out into an easy smile that could only be possible when they were home.

“We are, ma lath.”, Solas agreed with a wobbling voice of his own before quickly, but not too quickly striding over to him to crash into him in a tight embrace.

Fane easily responded with an embrace of his own, the agony of his body feeling like no more than a bad dream as he pulled Solas flush against his frame. He nuzzled his face into the crook of the elf’s neck, suddenly overcome with a wellspring of emotions that had tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. Such an overabundance of emotion had him sobbing quietly before giving himself a watery laugh.

“Damn it all..”, Fane laughed out shakily before more tears began to escape, his fingers curling into the back of Solas’s tunic. “Ar lath ma, ma fen. Ar lath ma. Ar lath ma.”, the once disgusting language that signified slavery to him falling out with love and relief.

Solas’s embrace tightened even further around him as those words flowed like water, a singular hand coming up to weave into the hair at the nape of his neck with a firm grip.

“Ar lath ma, ma’isenatha. Ar lath ma.”

Yes, change was good, change was required, and change was freedom awash in blue and white, not gold and crimson.

Fane let out another watery laugh before a tiny wiggling of anxiety had him pulling back to connect their gazes. He was almost knocked out once again when he saw the swirling of pure love within Solas’s eyes, their stormy cast intensified by the shimmering lunar hued flowers around them, but he cleared his throat. He could gaze at his sky later because right now, he had a question. One he needed the answer to.

“So..”, he began, shifting his gaze away a few times from the one piercing into him.

Solas only gave him a calming smile, arms still wrapped around his shoulders. “So..what?”

Fane let out a tiny huff. Why was this suddenly so difficult? Was it because of how many emotions he could feel rippling through him, the realm of dreams tickling his skin as it, too, latched onto this memory of love and freedom. Was it because of the knowing look that Solas was giving him with eternity?

Was it because he was scared to know the truth?

Perhaps it was all of those, or none of them, but soon he found the will to elaborate. This desire was stronger than any fear he could harbor.

“How...do I look?”, Fane finally said, his voice low and quiet, but not so much that Solas wouldn’t be able to hear.

Solas blinked before his features softened and practically melted with tenderness, the arms around his shoulders unwinding to instead cup his face with his hands. Fane practically melted himself as he leaned into those soothing cushions, letting out a tiny sigh as his eyes went hooded. Looks like they were back where they started, hm? The mage, all cool and composed, and him, just putty. So typical.

The Elvhen rebel’s own eyes went hooded, supposedly due to Fane’s contentment, before leaning up to brush their noses and their lips together. Fane nearly cracked with long held restraint at that, but opted to simply pull the man closer to him. There would be time for what he also desired later.

Their hooded gazes connected, heat radiating between them, their dual presence assured with the connection of their bodies before the sound of Solas’s voice, no more than a whisper, wrapped with gentle wonder and tender adoration, caressed his ears.

“You are beautiful. Without and within.”

And what a freeing truth those words were as Fane let the last leash of his restraint snap and fray, surging forward to connect them in the most freeing expression he had once only dreamed of, yearned for but could not for fear of retribution.

A kiss, and he hoped, oh, he hoped, that much more would follow in this bittersweet place they called home.

*sits in a chair as the world burn around me* This is fine. I’m in hell and this is fine.

#my writing #dragon age #solavellan #oc: fane lavellan #solas #i will write smut but it was FADE scene and I had to have MAGICAL happenings #*cries in fanfiction*#these two are just fucking NERDS

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