#how to hold your halfling | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

merrinla · 2 years ago

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Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #karlach #gale #wyll #lae'zel #shadowheart #halsin #jaheira #minsc #minthara #funny stuff #bg3 datamine

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jazeswhbhaven · 8 months ago

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He Can Match Your Freak | Asmodeus Selfie Spoilers

OKAY sooo FINALLY I'm posting this lol it's probably going to be like two parts maybe??? Let's see how this goes because I'm learning to not post thousands of screenshots unless it's relevant.

First. I'm skipping the prologue because most have seen it, and I'm doing a different thing with that anyway.

SOOO it's gonna be a crash course ya'll with jumping right in when MC is in his room about to get them cheeks clapped.

He wants to know more about MC because of what he's heard and well he wouldn't be wrong here. MC apparently is quite the deviant. And you can tell the writers tried to describe him as majestic and breathtaking as possible because the way MC sees him is similar to how they see Leviathan.

Until they said this mess.

G I R L WH A T

Even Asmo was like ???? But he has a sense of humor so he just laughed it off which I mean okay yes as if he would care about that phrase being weird.

But MC out here actin' up once a g a i n. lol

But also they mention his body odor keeps wafting over in MC's nose clearly yeah because not only them pheromones' but uh anyways we'll get to that part later

And MC was just like covering their nose and is like "this is dangerous" and for me ya'll?

I'd be afraid to offend him by saying he smells ripe which I'm sure he wouldn't be offended because I'm not sure what would offend him at this point in time.

So big boi puts a sigil on MC's body similar to a womb tattoo which is why he said "be surprised you aren't pregnant" but this symbol makes you into his "female" no matter the gender. He goes to say it nicely that you're his "virgin" though.

And with that, most of what's happening is that MC is feeling the effects of Asmo without him even doing much of anything just yet. The feelings of having climaxed multiple times over, hazy, losing your goddamn mind.

That sort of thing.

Baby I would have cried on the spot. What do you mean be your companion?

Yup he asked MC to not only be his one night stand but to basically be his and that he thinks he could fall in love with them.

He says that he can fall in love at first sight despite his reputation. And also he mentions MC is his third love. First was Solomon (rejected him and wouldn't tell him who it is he was in love with) and two his late wife who was a witch and it's their children/descendants who are the Unholyc that inhabit Earth.

I'mma be honest with ya'll I didn't finish Lovely Unholyc because I was mostly interested in William, there was no route for him at that time so I just kinda dipped, tried again and then dipped lol

oh btw he apparently just straight up wanted to yap about him clapping Solomon's cheeks and getting his cheeks clapped back and how many damn positions they did and I'm trying to wrap my head around what the fuck they did because at one point surely they were on the ceiling or floating mid-air, like I don't even know

But his wife who chose to live on Earth and grow old and die normally put a curse on his soul. He can love and fuck whoever he wants and should never be lonely but he can't have any more children. If he does, they die, and he dies along with the partner he made them with. (the fall of the house of usher vibes)

AND let me just say? That woman did the world a favor because he has a breeding kink. We'd have a whole universe full of little Asmo halflings running around. So either it was her being possessive or just her sparing the world of that burden then yeah thank you for that because phew.

i don't need no babies anyways

And he says the same thing like "Oh we can leave other things other than babies, like photos of us in a mess" meaning he really meant when he said he wanted to participate in the contest.

I mean he would have won so I think it's fair to give the others a chance. Lol

So things are getting hot and heavy now and he's wondering why MC is holding back. Honestly I'm like huh he did say that he turns you into a virgin and not everyone is confident when being presented with the chance of a lifetime to fuck the embodiment of lust.

But at the same time I mean...MC this is your element and you are pretty much striking out. (not to him but to me you are)

SO I complied all of these because this is important. Asmodeus is literally combining all of their philias and using them on MC and he's quite good at it. And well, why wouldn't he be?

And he even goes to strangle and lick up MCs tears?

Yeah we know what he's about.

His tongue did what now?

his tongue did what now

his tongooooooooooooo

Anyways I short circuited there because everything about him is just driving me nuts.

MC even said they were coming by him just kissing them and I'm like hold up??????

I fucking bet.

Okay ya'll picked the nastiest ass stuff for him to mention but I get it. Congrats if ya'll have things you're self conscious about during sex Asmo's your demon because he literally won't care and will still be turned on.

Ayo.

Moving on....LMAO

And uh...Asmo was licking MC's snot and spit off their face and they came again.

I'm drowning in a sensory nightmare why is he so h o t but this is nastttyyyyyy

"I can always go hard whenever I feel like fucking the opponent"

Sir what? He just be sayin' anything

But he does ask MC what do they want...and they just smack the fuck out of him so there's that. Lol

I would tell him I'd very much like that mouth on the kewchie. I don't even need anything else just his mouth. His jaw probably can go for days.

Now MC is making deduction here that Asmo is the king of lust and seduction and can pass this feeling on to others. He's dangerous this way.

Now Asmo how do you know that.

Tell me sir HOW (I think I know the answer....but I'd be hella surprised that Belphie would let him hit unless he was watching him...)

But mostly what's happening is that MC is feeling what Asmo feels basically the same spiel as the other kings except with him it's intense to the point where they are quite literally about to pass the fuck out. And Asmo ain't about to stop momentum so you better stay awake MC.

NOW YA'LL.

Bullet point times:

MC has climaxed pretty much several times and they haven't even fucked properly yet

But wait, their clothes are off and....

Bam they notice that Asmo's cock is pretty much halfway in their hole and they haven't even noticed

All he did was push himself to the hilt and MC squirted ya'll

So there's that.

But the womb tattoo is doing it's job because now the climaxes are back to back, and I'm just wondering how the hell MC is still mentally there because I'd be a babbling mess.

Yes daddy.

he makes me SICK (lovingly)

But also they mention the liquid he was feeding MC had a horrible smell and I'm just like oh fucking gawd please get rid of my sense of smell before sleeping with him because I would not make it. Why is everything having to do with him smell so much? LOL

LMAO

MC was begging for his dick and Asmo is like, baby it's already in are you okay?

I'm crying

Yeah remember those memes about people getting high and saying they were vacuuming the dishes?

I imagine that's what it's like having sex with him. One minute you're on the bed next you're in another dimension, floating, transcending, melting, legs bent in impossible shapes. Indeed I am mopping the lawn.

He even mentioned they've done it like six times already and he's just getting started.

with a face like that? phew.

Oh so he does have a good pull out game.

btw the visual for that???? GAWDDDDDDD -> look here

So let me back up a bit and mention that MC was feeling insecure that since they have been doing it for quite some time (2 days I think?) they thought he wasn't satisfied. Nah he was just savoring the moment. He could come at any time. ANd when he does? It's alot and from his horn and everything. Cum fountain.

And best part? No refractory period. He's already hard and slamming that thang back in.

Also he mentions here that there's a smell, and he's getting really worked up.

Yeah he's tearing that up. Like it's overtime ya'll.

There's purple smoke and a erotic aura in the air, he's grabbing and biting down on the back of MC's neck to claim them? Oh he's going in.

Alright here we go.

And just so ya'll know...sorry male MC players....the same line is used in ya'lls version too. No change.

This is the point where I would of preferred perhaps something else be said entirely instead. I know the majority of players are women/non-men but...I can see someone playing and getting side swept like?????

But anyways let's move on past this point

Until the room stank is an understatement.

But anyways, while MC is trying to somewhat calm down, Asmo is still trying to keep the momentum. And MC starts trying to have a normal conversation and figuring out why devil's fear him the most.

But also mentioned they wanted to shove his nasty, greasy, bodily fluid covered hair up their hole. E x c u s e the fuck outta me?

AN Y W AY S

Mc figures that the reason the devils fear him is because of this. Imagine falling for someone like this? Who is nothing but the sole reason existence of lust and temptation where you could fuck for hours and reach pleasure centers unknown and yet have that all be taken away when he leaves? There's no love? No sweet nothings? Just being used up and tossed without any direction and you're just in the dark?

welp.

But Asmo does offer MC some comfort

He tells them that he's back in Hell so he will be around more often. It won't be painful, that it's okay to start slow and that MC would wait for him when he's ready to fully accept his feelings. He could fall in love with them not that he was already in love with them. But with how he's considering him as a companion, how he's biting and claiming them, the amount of time he's spending with MC.

mind you he left Phenomenon on the floor the moment he entered the meeting room so I imagine they weren't fucking for very long at all. I imagine all of his sessions with others are "quick" and for those he really likes they last longggg like days.

Not mention he on that yandere vibes....telling MC he'd lock them up in a cage but he'll deal with it for now.

And apparently when he gives a sincere command, it must be followed. So MC basically ends up getting dressed, not whining about leaving, and all that good stuff. A true dom in that sense.

Also he mentions that when he's nearby MC will just get turned on automatically. "Your body will scream that your man is here"

why is that so hot?

So MC is back in Gehenna and this is when Asmo starts reminiscing about Solomon who predicted that he'd see MC in the future and that he would know that he feels at the moment for Solomon is not 'love'.

I wonder if Asmodeus was just helplessly losing himself for Solomon, and pepaw clocked that and was just telling him to chill on it for a bit. Although it is fucking WI L D to me that he is going to try this again with his friend's descendant..."hey I'm a friend of your grandpa...soooo yeah let's fuck and fall in love"

Sounds weird when I put that way huh? lol

Also since we're at the end I'd like to highlight some personality things about him!

He plays too much: Taking a photo of himself and MC sleeping and sending it to Satan knowing he'd storm immediately to the room

He doesn't have self doubt, he is very much full of himself but is considerate of his partner given the circumstances

He is not into aftercare, he claims that part is included during the sex, if sex is over then it's over

He doesn't shower ya'll. Like at all. But he oddly keeps his nails clean and that's about it? He seems to be obsessed with sex funk

He really likes Mammon. Like a lot. But he does that thing where he's like "Nah I want him to want me so I won't give him what he wants" lol okay

He fucks pillows, pretty much inanimate objects if he feels like it

He has a sense of humor

Romance is not absent, it's just tricky for him since all that's all his brain is "breed breed breed breed sex sex sex breed breed breed oh lets pause for a break sex sex sex kissing sex sex breeding biting"

He loves his children though. He really is a fatherly devil. He beams about his kids and this is a moment where you can catch him not being sexual

It comes to no surprise that he doesn't like the idea of sharing his favorite person but it has me think that his style of relationship is that he's monogamous but if you want to occasionally bring someone to "play" with he won't mind as long as it's discussed and he gets to fuck them too

He's got a one track mind, but it's not like he can't carry on a conversation

Now for my

T H E O R I E S

Asmo is older than all of the kings, but younger than Lucifer

I am reaching in the dark but it seems the only King he's had sex with or has watched have sex is Belphie

He's only in love with MC because he's taking a opportunity that wasn't given to him with Solomon

There's most likely a loophole to his curse that his late wife left on him but he simply chooses not to break it

If the Kings fight together along with Asmodeus, the war would be over, and if we ever get a final battle chapter it's going to be MC who is the missing "key" and the one who figures that out is Asmo because he spent so much time with Solomon

We may get a cameo from one of his children in the story

Asmodeus is possibly capable of lying and just hasn't revealed that to anyone. I say this because if he was one of the very early devils created he is the exception to the rule. So there could be some secret he knows.

BUT wow it seems that I have compiled ALL of this into one post. YAY FOR ME. Now there may be more little blurbs popping up as I remember them but for nowwwwww~ Thank you for reading, hopefully you grabbed some snacks, and ya'll are amazing. Feel free to let me know ya'lls thoughts if you haven't said already on our stinky hot devil man <3 lol

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb asmodeus #whb spoilers #whb screenshots #jazewhbreacts🖤

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yanderecrazysie · 3 months ago

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Twisted Zoo: Ending 7 - Dripping Venom

Warnings: yandere themes

Note: Sorry this is late, also boa constrictors are disturbing

You had been asked by Mr. Crowley to spend the entire next day with the snakes. You had no idea why, but you couldn’t argue with the owner of the zoo. Plus, it would be great to research them.

You turned on a documentary about boa constrictors, hoping to learn more about Kalim and, later, Jamil.

“When the male feels inclined to breed, he begins to crawl over the female and flicks his tongue at the body of his object of desire. The female usually tries to escape the intentions of the male by crawling away. This leads to a situation, in which the male chases the female through the enclosure until she no longer escapes. Once she finally holds still, the male coils his tail around hers and attempts to force-”

You turned off the TV, face burning. That was extremely disturbing, you thought, why would nature make them mate like that?

Deciding to skip the viper special, you laid back on your bed and fell asleep immediately. When you woke the next morning, you could have sworn you had had a nightmare about two shadowy figures stalking you through a dark alley, but the memory disappeared quickly.

You got up and got ready. Once you were in uniform and were smelling fresh, you slipped on your boots and opened the front door.

Something shot forward, grabbing you and knocking you to the ground. You tried to scream, but the air had been knocked out of your chest. It took a moment for you to recognize the figures now making their way curiously into your home.

“Jamil?” you managed to ask, absolutely stunned, “Kalim? What are you doing here?”

The two snake halflings looked down at you, amused. Kalim offered a hand to you and you took it, standing up to stare at the two.

“Mr. Crowley told you you’d be spending the day with us.” Jamil said matter-of-factly, “So we’re here to spend the day with you.”

“In my home?” you were shocked, “How did you even get here?”

Kalim gave you a hug, “I’m so happy! We get to see your enclosure this time!” he paused, looking you up and down, “Why are you wearing your uniform? Is that all the clothing you own? I thought humans wore multiple outfits!”

“It’s clear that Mr. Crowley did not explain fully,” Jamil chuckled.

Kalim looked crestfallen for a moment before brightening up, “Well, now that we’re here, what are we going to do today?”

You hesitated. Obviously, you couldn’t just bring them outside somewhere- people would freak out. They would have to stay in your house- which didn’t have a lot to do.

However, the two snakes were already entertained. They were going around your bedroom, gently touching objects they had clearly never seen before.

Kalim touched a lamp that was touch-based and jumped when it turned on. His startled expression melted into an amused one as he poked it over and over, making the lightbulb flash.

Jamil, on the other hand, seemed fascinated by your decor. He looked over the small Japanese shrine model and another statue that looked like a Chinese temple. “Where did you get these?”

“They used to be my parents’,” you replied, albeit a little sadly, “They liked collecting models of Asian architecture.”

“I see,” Jamil replied, “I would love to see these places in person.”

“Me too,” you said with a soft smile.

Kalim wandered over to the TV and poked the screen, “What is this box?”

“Oh, that’s a TV!” you said, “That’s really the only entertainment I have to share with you both…”

“How does it work?” Jamil asked curiously.

You grabbed the remote from the nightstand and clicked the power button. Immediately, the TV turned on to the last DVD you had put it- a nature documentary about all kinds of snakes. It was currently featuring cobras.

Kalim’s eyes widened in surprise, “Woah! That snake stands up! And spits venom!”

Jamil crossed his arms, amused, “Cobras are powerful creatures. I’m not surprised humans are fascinated with them.”

Kalim sat on the edge of the bed with difficulty, “Can we watch more?”

“Of course!” you laughed, “I have a lot of nature documentaries. Maybe you’d want to learn more about deserts or the arctic?”

Jamil was intrigued, “Humans have so much information about animals, but rarely live among them.”

“Well, we don’t have fangs or claws and we’re kinda squishy,” you explained, “Most of us could never survive in the wilderness.”

Kalim grinned, “That’s okay, you have us now to protect you.”

Jamil shot him a look that you couldn’t decipher. Kalim ignored him and asked, “Do you have anything sweet to eat? Like the donuts?”

You thought for a moment, “I could make some cookies?”

“Okay!” Kalim said enthusiastically.

You went into the kitchen and pulled the cookie squares from the fridge. You flattened them against a tray and placed them in the oven. You set a timer, then walked back into your bedroom to check on the halflings.

Kalim had moved to the floor, right in front of the TV, completely engrossed in whatever the TV was saying. Jamil had coiled himself on the bed, watching with interest as well.

You waited until the timer went off and took the cookies out to cool.

“What was that noise? Are you okay?” Kalim slithered into the kitchen and you laughed a little.

“Yes, it was just an alarm telling me the cookies were done baking.”

Kalim reached for one and you smacked his hand away with a spatula, “They’re still hot! You’ll burn yourself!”

He pouted for a moment, staring hard at the cookies as though that would cool them off faster. Finally, you scooped the cookies onto a plate and brought them to the bedroom, Kalim on your nonexistent tail.

Jamil took one cookie and thanked you. Kalim, on the other hand, grabbed a handful and began shoving them into his mouth. You laughed and rolled your eyes.

The three of you watched as the documentary talked about pythons next, showing scenes of a jungle where snakes decorated the tree branches. You looked at Jamil and Kalim, wondering if either of them missed their home, but they just seemed intrigued, not sad.

There was a sudden knock on the door. You got up and opened it, finding four zookeepers on your doorstep. “We’re here to pick up the snakes.”

You blinked in surprise, realizing it was already getting dark. “Of course, come in.”

“Kalim! Jamil! It’s time for you to go home,” you said, feeling like a mother sending kids home after a slumber party.

In one orchestrated moment, you felt your body being squeezed and hot breath on your shoulder. It took a moment to realize what was going on. Kalim had wrapped his tail around you, squeezing your lower body and Jamil had his venom-filled fangs centimeters from plunging into your neck.

“G-guys?” you stammered, frozen in fear. The zookeepers were equally frozen.

“Leave us alone or she dies,” Jamil snapped.

Mr. Crowley pushed forward, “What’s the delay?” He stopped at the sight and simply said, “Ah…”

“She belongs to us now,” Kalim said fiercely. It was perhaps the first time Jamil and Kalim actually were on the exact same page, and it frightened you to your core.

“But why not bring her with you?” Mr. Crowley asked smoothly, “Then you can be home and have her all to yourselves.”

“Wha-” your reply was choked out of you as Kalim tightened even more around you, making it hard to breathe.

“Yes, but bring the TV,” Jamil agreed, “She should have something to entertain herself with. And no more rats and mice- she needs proper meals.”

Mr. Crowley stepped forward and they shook hands, “Deal.”

No one cared about what you wanted, especially as the zookeepers loaded you into a cage inside a large van. Jamil and Kalim cuddled close to you, gently avoiding the bruises all over you from Kalim’s rough treatment.

You were terrified after watching that boa constrictor documentary and you were terrified of Jamil’s deadly fangs. They were both ready to kill you in negotiation, weren’t they? Yet, they treated you so gently now.

You let out a sob, “I want to go home!”

“You’ll be home soon,” Kalim soothed you, “Your new home.”

You couldn’t tell if they didn’t care enough or if the problem was simply that they cared too much.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere one shot #one shot #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #kalim al asim #yandere kalim #jamil viper #yandere jamil

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lqveharrington · 11 months ago

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Feelings Mutual | C.G.

summary: Your forced to hangout with Cardan at the High King’s birthday celebration. Turns out, you both make stupid decisions when drunk. And what’s the fine line between hatred and love between two being who can’t lie anyway?

pairing: Cardan Greenbriar x half fae!fem!reader

includes: drunk Cardan, drunk reader, cursing, making out, suggestiveness, no use of Y/N, barely proofread (i think that’s it)

a/n: i’m on a reading spree, and working on my projects, so this should help get me out of a huge writing slump.

In Faerie, it was uncommon for a half fae, half human being to be a princess in the court. Your father — the King of one of the many lands — wed a human woman, causing you to become the land’s princess. Of course many of the court thought that you were lesser than them; For such a creation should never hold that high of a status.

Ever since you were younger, you often attended lessons with the High King’s youngest child. At first, you sought out to befriend him and his group of friends. But you soon found out that they loathed you. Because how could a halfling ever be a worthy princess?

So you gave up trying to befriend them. You let the group taunt you for not being full fae, but what was the worst thing they could do? You still were a daughter of a very powerful king. The very king that was the closest with the High King himself.

You and your family were constantly invited to all their gatherings, and this one wasn’t an exception. It was the High King’s birthday, which meant all of Faerie was invited to Elfhame palace to celebrate such a day. The only issue with that meant your father and mother urged you to talk to Cardan and his group.

“Mother, they don’t like me.” You wring your hands together, fidgeting with your silver jewelry.

She clicked her tongue, “Nonsense. Prince Balekin spoke of how much Cardan talks about you when he comes home from your lessons.”

“Wait what?” Your eyes widen at her in disbelief. “Mother, I’m sure they’re words of hate.”

“Is it because you don’t like your dress? Are you afraid they’ll hate it?” She tugged you to stand in front of herself. “You look gorgeous, angel.”

You purse your lips at her compliment. You truly loved the dress. It was a beautiful sage color that complimented your skin tone completely, and the corset really did wonders. There were gorgeous lace details of butterflies that were a shade darker, with a slit running down one side of the dress. It was beautiful, but you feared that it was much too modern for Faerie, causing your thoughts to wander to how Cardan’s friends would insult it.

“No, I love the dress, mother.” You give her a tight lipped smile, squeeze her hands. “If you truly wish for me to find Cardan, I’ll go and be friendly so you and father can enjoy your time here.”

“Thank you.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead and a real smile etched its way onto your face.

“Be safe, alright?” Your father squeezed your shoulder before leaning down to whisper words your mother couldn’t hear. “If trouble comes, you know what I’ve taught you. You have your dagger?”

Your lips twitch in excitement, “Of course.”

“Then you’re all set then, kiddo.” He gave you one last look before resting an arm around your mother’s waist. “I’ll come find you when it’s time for us to depart.”

You nod before taking a small bow. You watched them leave and make their way to the throne, immediately engaging with the High King and Queen. They seemed happy, which made you glad that they accepted your mother as their own. Shaking your head, you took a deep breath and blew out the air in one go. Carefully, you made your way over to Cardan. Luckily, he was on his own for once.

“Cardan.” You nod in his direction, watching his dark eyes with flecks of gold suddenly gazing into yours. Without fail, his eyes roam over your body, tail whipping behind himself after gaining someone’s attention.

“Princess! Don’t you look absolutely captivating tonight.” He slurred, red wine dripping out of his glass. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

You raised a brow at the prince. From what you could recall, he didn’t live inside the palace walls. And there wasn’t a chance he could lie either. “You don’t live here.”

“I used to.” He tipped his glass up to his wine stained lips, taking in the drink whilst taking in the sight of you.

“Where are your—“ You use your hand to gesture in the air as you grab your own glass of wine from a server passing buy. Unsure of how to word your question, you sip on the wine, immediately hit by its strength. “Where are your friends, I should say.”

“Off to bother some mortal or do something stupid.” He smiles in your direction as you down your drink and reach for another. “What’s upsetting you, princess?”

“Nothing.” You tilt your head toward him, eyes flicking down from his strange stare to his stained lips. “Just want time to move faster.”

“How drunk do you want to get?” He leans closer to you, fingers itching to pull you into him.

You place a hand to his mouth and push him further away from yourself. He hums as he traces his finger over his empty wine glass.

“How many glasses have you had, Cardan?” You tip back your third drink, missing his smirk while he watches.

“Enough.”

“Enough to forget?” You turn toward the table and grab the strongest drink, carefully downing the drink.

His shadow towers over you as his breath tickles your neck, “Forget what exactly, love?”

“I hate you.” You say against Cardan’s lips, arms loosely hanging around his neck. “I hate you so much.”

He continues to push you backwards as he slams the door behind him, hands finding their place around your waist. “Feelings mutual, princess.”

Letting your hand thread through his hair, you pull him in for a more heated kiss, tugging ever so slightly at his roots. Cardan groans against your lips, pulling your body closer to his.

“This is such a stupid idea.” You unwillingly part as he drops you down on a bed — hopefully one that used to be his. You let out a small gasp as he litters soft kisses on your throat and down to your exposed collar bone. Your hands find his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. “Cardan—“

“Yes, love?” He slowly makes his way back up to your lips, pressing short kisses as you try to make sense of the situation. He stops attacking you with his lips, staring and waiting for you to continue.

You shake your head, eyes glassy with drunkenness as you meet his gaze. “Kiss me.”

“You’re too perfect for me.” He groans again, tasting the red wine from your lips as he kisses you harder. “God, I hate you.” Cardan mumbles as he lets his hands wander over your body, refraining from the more private areas at the moment.

Cardan allows you to wander over his own body, feeling you fidget with the hem of his shirt. Letting your hands slip underneath his shirt, you let out a small sigh before flipping the both of you over. You quickly toss your dagger onto the floor before meeting his lips again, the kiss heightening all your profound feelings.

As minutes turned into an hour more, you both fell into a pit of no return. The shared kisses were intensified, and without either party having a clear mind or being sober, neither could stop the motions that lulled them both to sleep very late into night.

It wasn’t until early afternoon that the pair awoke to the sounds of pounding at the door and a splitting headache.

“Your highness, your father is looking for you.” The voice called from outside the wooden doors, causing you to groan and bury your head into the warmth emitting from your bed.

A beat passed before the pounding occurred once more.

“Your highness—!”

“In a minute!” Cardan shouted, eyes shut from the dizziness and hangover. “For fucks sake…”

Your eyes widen at the voice, head rushing up before falling back down at the impact of a jaw. “Shit, that hurt.” You mutter, wincing when you felt the hangover hit you. Slowly, you remove yourself from Cardan’s arm, slightly frowning when you saw him rubbing his jaw. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to slam into you…”

“I think that’s the least of our concerns.” He grumbled, glaring at the door again.

He pushed himself up from the bed, eyes raking over your appearance. He smirked over at you before leaning against the headboard. You crease your brows before looking down and realizing whose clothes you were in — crossing your arms over the loose shirt.

“Princess, I think your father will be a little disappointed in you.”

“Why is that?” You roll your eyes at him, keeping one arm over Cardan’s shirt while running your free hand through your hair.

Your bored gaze meet his amused one, watching him tilt his head. You look away as you weren’t necessarily hiding the fact that you were eyeing his bare chest either.

He pulled you into his chest, despite your halfhearted protests. “Because you have hickeys all over your skin.” Cardan presses a kiss to your cheek, causing your breath to hitch.

All the memories from last name came rushing in, warmth filling your body at the thoughts. Your eyes flit to your dress and dagger scattered across his floor, still thinking of the punishment to come.

However, you did not regret him.

“I don’t think we drank enough last night.” You twist in his arms, lips barely touching his.

“I don’t think so.” He lands a soft kiss to your lips. “I still hate you, love.”

“Feelings mutual.” You straddle over his hips and rest your forehead on his, both your heads still pounding from last night’s activities.

787 notes · View notes

shenanigans-and-imagines · 2 years ago

Text

I Want It All: Part 1

Part 2, Part 3; AO3 Link

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Flirting, Light Angst, Longing

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It's easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can't pretend anymore?

A/N: This turned into a monstrosity. For my own sanity I need to break it up into three parts. I also apologize in advanced, the stuff in the preview won’t pop up until part 2. And please, REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!!!

Word Count: 4.8K

The day really couldn’t decide whether it was going to be terrible or tolerable.

On the one hand, it had been pouring rain for hours, leaving you and your party drenched as you searched for some place dry to sleep. On the other hand, you were able to find an inn with more than enough rooms to accommodate all of you. On the other, other hand, rooms cost money, something that was in short supply.

“How much does that make?” Karlach asked, placing her share into the pile.

Gale counted out the coins. “Enough for our own rooms, but not much in the way of food.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Hold on, this can’t be right. Who forgot to pitch in?”

All eyes turned suspiciously to Astarion.

He raised his hands in surrender. “I put down enough for the room. Food is something…you all have to deal with.”

Lae’zel gave him a hard look, the threat obvious on her features.

“We could always share a room or two,” Shadowheart cut in. “That will at least hold us over until we can find a way to make more coin.”

A devilish smirk formed on the vampire’s lips as his eyes turned to you. “I’m not opposed to the idea. Certainly would make it easier for me to get a little midnight snack.”

You gave a theatrical sigh. “Not tonight dear. I have a headache.”

“Teasing minx.”

“Can the pair of you not for ten seconds?” Wyll complained.

You bit back a laugh, turning your gaze to the dining area of the tavern. Gods you could smell something delicious cooking over the fireplace. When was the last time you had a proper hot meal?

It was then you turned your eyes to one of the empty corners. The solution to the issue of food suddenly became obvious.

“Not to worry everyone,” you announced, swiping the coins from Gale’s hand. “Dinner is on me.”

Before anyone could speak, you stepped towards the bar, making a point to put on your best smile.

A elderly halfling woman regarded you as you approached. “What can I get you deary?”

“Actually it’s a matter of what I can do for you,” you said. “I see you have some instruments sitting much too idly.”

The old lady shrugged. “Not really. Night like this you don’t need music to bring people in.”

Your smile faltered a moment, but you pushed on. “That may be, but nothing keeps people drinking longer and deeper than a good song.”

She gave you a disparaging look. “Don’t tell me, bard right?”

“Guilty.”

“If you don’t have money for the rooms, we don’t comp that.”

You waved the comment away. “The rooms aren’t the issue. However, if you’re willing to part with a cauldron of stew, I’ll consider it payment enough.”

Her eyes remained wary, but you knew you had her as a twitch came to her lips. “That’ll do. Thirty minute set. You eat after.”

She held out a hand which you took, striking the bargain.

It didn’t take long after to secure the rooms. They were nothing fancy, but a mattress was a mattress and with the guarantee of true privacy for the first time in weeks, none of you were complaining.

“How’s this about food then?” Karlach asked, taking a seat at one of the few tables large enough to accommodate all seven of you.

“All taken care of,” you assured. “Just need to pluck out a quick set and we can eat.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Astarion said. “I don’t mind it myself, but your songs have a tendency to be a bit, well…destructive. Frankly I’m surprised you didn’t use that cutting mouth of yours to simply insult the woman into feeding you.”

“As it turns out, I have a little thing called restraint. Unlike some people,” you countered.

“Oh trust me my dear, I’m well aware of that.”

You rolled your eyes, deciding to ignore the slight twist of guilt in your stomach.

He couldn’t seem to help making those kinds of jabs ever since you had declined his offer for a midnight tryst; always alluding to the theme of “untapped passions” or “delayed gratification”. It was starting to wear on you.

Gods knew you liked him. He had so many qualities you admired; insight, intelligence, charm, the way he could make you laugh. The more you learned, the more you wanted to know and the more you were willing to give for answers. The trouble was his idea of a night of passion and yours were so very, very different.

A part of you knew the honest thing to do would be to spell it out for him. You understood him well enough to know he’d respect those boundaries. At the same time, you didn’t want to lose this, whatever this was, between you. If suddenly that night of passion was off the table, all those moments, all his attentions would be lost. He’d be a friend, certainly, but nothing more.

It was selfish. You knew it was. You couldn’t imagine finding the words to explain it to him. It would leave you too exposed, too vulnerable to that insistent burning want that had a way of tearing you apart from the inside out. It was better to leave him to his assumptions of suppression and prudishness. You’d keep your dignity at least.

Pushing those thoughts away, you took your place in the unobtrusive corner and the spare violin waiting for you.

A smile spread across your face as you tucked the familiar instrument under your chin. Since this whole adventure of yours began, you had little opportunity to apply your skills. Music had always been a source of comfort to you. It felt right to indulge in it now, some place safe and filled with warm firelight.

With a flick of your wrist you began, the resonating tone of the strings filling the room.

You allowed your eyes to close as you slipped into the melody. The sounds of conversation and laughter fell to an idle murmur. It was a simple tune, something easy to match the atmosphere, but one you loved all the same. You always found it best to start with something familiar. If the patrons could see you get lost in the music, they inevitably followed.

As the first song came to an end, you chanced a quick glance at your audience.

Most of the patrons still prattled on, but enough turned your direction to encourage you to try something a little more daring.

Your fingers flew, igniting a livelier rhythm. More eyes found their way to you. A pleasant bubbling sensation filled you. They were falling right into your hands.

Rising to your feet, you glided across the floor, moving with the music towards the center of the room.

Patrons shuffled out of the way, transfixed by your performance. Even your companions had stopped their chatter.

Karlach and Shadowheart’s faces lit up in delight. A smile touched the corner of Gale’s mouth. Even Lae’zel and Wyll looked on with admiration at your skills. As for Astarion…Astarion just stared.

You couldn’t quite read what was going on behind those scarlet eyes. It was a look you had caught him wearing more than once, always blinked away before you could fully comprehend its meaning. All you knew was how it made that dangerous hope spark in your chest.

He caught you looking and quickly morphed his expression to its familiar smirk. The bastard even had the audacity to wink.

You rolled your eyes pretending not to have seen. It was all part of the game after all. He pretended to care, you pretended not to fall for it.

A lute suddenly joined you from one of the corners, strumming its way into a new song.

You turned as a cheer rose, encouraging the intrusive lutist forward. He was human by the look of him and certainly skilled in his own right. He took a moment to embellish your solo before taking over with one of his own. Soon enough you joined the conversation again with a counter melody. It wasn’t as clean as you would have liked it. The lad clearly had meant to upstage you, but you made sure to put him in line, allowing the impromptu duet to end in some kind of harmony.

You transitioned easily to a new song as he took a seat, bowing to you as he did.

Remembering your showmanship, you made a point to bow in return, schooling your expression into a flirtatious grin before pulling away. That earned the man a round of cheers from his friends and a few obvious oohs from the crowd; exactly as you intended.

You continued on with the remainder of your set. Requests were shouted from the audience, all the pieces of music moving to and from your fingers with practiced grace. By the end of it, your arms were exhausted, but your face hurt from smiling. Gods you had missed this.

As you took your bow, applause followed you back to your table as well as a handful of extra coin.

“That was amazing!” Karlach said, beaming at you. “How’d you learn to play like that?”

“Years of practice,” you said, with pride. “Had to find an honest living somehow.”

“Well, it was beautifully done,” Gale added. “Maybe next time we make camp you could grace us with another performance. Provided we’re not all about to die of course.”

You shot him a grin. “I could be persuaded.”

The wizard turned his gaze away, his lips turning into a knowing smirk. “You’ve been unnaturally quiet Astarion. Been bewitched have you?”

The vampire blinked as if coming out of deep thought. It was only in those last moments did you realize just how intently he had been looking in your direction.

“Yes,” he said, a little stiffly, “you were quite…good.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Be careful there. You wouldn’t want to overwhelm me with praise.”

He regarded you a moment before a sly smile turned at his lips.

You were almost relieved. That look you understood at least.

“If it’s praise you crave, you need only ask,” he purred. “You, my dear, are an unparalleled talent. Your beauty and grace alone should have brought you into the presence of kings. A true diamond in the rough.”

You snorted out a laugh.

“No good?” he continued. “How about this one; if I die tomorrow and the gods grant me mercy it will be your song that brings me into the beyond.”

You gave him a slow clap. “Brava.”

He inclined his head in a little bow. “But seriously, you were good and you didn’t even destroy the furniture. Admittedly though, I wouldn’t have minded if he had met with a little accident.”

You followed Astarion’s eye line to the lute player chatting with his friends. He perked up as he felt eyes on him. Without the distraction of playing, you could easily tell he was handsome in that sun kissed farmer’s son kind of way. Probably had most of the girls in the village swooning.

He raised a tankard to you in toast.

You met the gesture in acknowledgment.

“He wasn’t that bad,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.

“He was the worst part of your performance,” Astarion insisted.

You knew he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t help but have your fun.

“Oh my darling, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, placing a hand over your heart.

“Certainly I am,” he said, clutching his own chest in turn. “He’s the only person I’ve seen you willing to make sweet music with. And judging from his looks, he would have much preferred it to be a private performance.”

You didn’t bother looking over to the other table to see if he was telling the truth. It didn’t matter either way. It never did. Your answer was always the same.

“He’ll have to keep waiting.” You shrugged. “Not my type.”

Astarion’s eyes narrowed slightly, leaning in closer. “And what exactly is?”

You didn’t answer, deciding instead to take a long sip of your ale.

He continued to eye you, his lips pursed as if trying to solve a puzzle. After a few moments he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Fine, keep your secrets, but I will figure it out eventually.”

Your lip twitched up into a half smile. “You may certainly try.”

It was then one of the staff brought out a truly enormous cauldron of the most delicious smelling stew you had smelled in your life.

You didn’t think to wait as you greedily poured a ladle full into your empty bowl. Two full days on the road with nothing but a handful of nuts and berries to sustain you had taken its toll. The rest of the group soon followed, each taking their share. You ate yours so quickly that by the time the ladle had made the circle, you were grabbing for seconds.

“Hungry are we?” Astarion observed.

You paused mid bite, heat rising in your cheeks. You took a quick look at everyone else. Nobody seemed to have noticed how you inhaled your food. They were content enough in their own bowls and conversation. Carefully you swallowed before self consciously setting down the spoon in your hand.

“I am the one who worked for this,” you said, more defensively than you intended.

Astarion regarded you with a raised eyebrow. “Even so, it’s not going to disappear the second you look away.”

“Says you.”

“Clever,” he said, dryly. “Devastating really. What’s next? Are you going to hit me with an “oh yeah” or Gods forbid a “your mother”?”

“I was actually leaning towards, “leave me to eat in peace you pompous jackass”.”

“Oh yes, that’s much better.”

You breathed out a frustrated sigh. Hopefully it would distract from your obvious embarrassment. You had thought you’d tucked those bad habits away.

Years of living on your own had left you going to bed hungry more times than you cared to remember. There was a time food had disappeared from your plate if you didn’t eat it fast enough. Of course, things got better. You found music and people willing to listen. It gave you fire and shelter and a contented stomach on good nights. Still, there were the bad ones and old instincts took over. It took practice not to be as ravenous as you knew your nature to be.

“Do I need to worry about your hunger?” you asked, deciding to change the subject.

“Oh you of all people should know by now. I’m insatiable,” he crooned.

Your eyes narrowed, unamused. “I’m being serious, when’s the last time you ate?”

He shrugged. “Few days. Last time I fed on you I imagine.”

Your stomach gave a sudden guilt ridden twist. If that were the case, it had to have been at least three days ago.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because as much as the image of you swooning in my arms is appealing, I’d rather it be over my charms rather than blood loss.” He nodded his head towards the bowl. “From my own experience hunger and restraint don’t mix.”

You tried to fight it. You really did. Years of instinct and reason told you not to fall for the softness in his eyes and voice. He simply didn’t want to explain a dead body to the rest of the party. It wasn’t out of some concern for your well being. And you absolutely could not allow yourself to believe he recognized the desperation in your actions and not pass judgment. If you believed that, you’d be in much more danger than you already were.

“Excuse me deary,” an elderly voice asked. “I was wondering if I could have another moment of your time.”

You turned to see the barkeeper at your shoulder.

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Of course.”

You moved to stand, but she gestured you down. It was then you noticed she was carrying a case. It was worn with age, but clearly lovingly maintained as the edges shone with intricate gold inlay.

“I know you already paid for your meal,” she said. “But I was hoping I could ask for one more performance tonight.”

She opened the case to reveal the most beautiful violin you’d ever laid eyes on. The wood was a carefully polished chestnut interrupted with carvings which matched those on the case. The strings shone like gold and the pegs carved marble. You may not be a trained wizard, but could feel the magic pulsing from every square inch of it.

“What is this?”

“It was my father’s,” the woman explained. “He was a bard you see, best in these parts from what people told. He had so many stories and songs. Built it himself to help tell them. Try as I might though, I could never get it to play as sweetly. I was hoping you might.”

You looked to your companions. The obvious curiosity played on all their faces.

With a cautious hand, you plucked one of the strings.

It was perfectly in tune. The sound echoed, rich and vibrant even with so light a touch. The instrument itself seemed to glow as if happy to be played once again.

Slowly, you lifted it from the case, taking the bow in hand. You placed it on the strings and with an exhale drew the first notes.

It was the loveliest sound you’d ever heard.

The vibrations resinated in your fingers, moving through your arm and into your chest.

You decided to start simple, a handful of scales to get the intonations just right.

Color danced across the strings, rippling from your fingers like raindrops in a pond.

“Woah,” Karlach said, her eyes widening in awe. “Are you doing that?”

“No,” you said, pausing your motions, as you let it fall slack in your hands.

The elderly halfing smiled. “My father always said an artist puts their truth into every stroke of the bow. This here helps one’s heart shine. I saw the way you performed earlier, you’re not afraid to play what’s true.”

Color rose in your cheeks, unsure how to take such praise. “Thank you.”

She just smiled, nodding towards the instrument. “Keep playing. See what happens.”

You were suddenly aware of the rest of the party’s eyes turning expectantly towards you. Some with caution, some with anticipation, and one pair of red eyes with unreadable intentions.

Knowing there was no way you were getting out of this now, you rose from your seat, placing the violin securely beneath your chin.

You started slow, picking a tune every beginner memorized in their first lessons.

The music sparkled in front of your eyes, twirling outward in melodic waves.

The hum of conversation began to die down as you spotted the barkeeper beckon for silence.

You continued on, moving to something a little more complex, allowing yourself to let the rest of the room blur in the peripheries.

The sound of boots on cobblestones met your ears. Glancing down you saw stone where hardwood floors had been.

You took another step.

The stones followed.

Around you the room fluctuated between firelight and the brightness of morning. Looking up you could see a clear sky had replaced the hatched ceiling.

A smile spread across your face as you stepped away from your bench.

As if waiting for your queue the rest of the bar quickly moved tables and chairs out of the way, clearing the center floor.

The sun followed as the cobblestones spread out in front of you like a stream. With every flourish, finer details were added. You changed the direction allowing a building to form beside you, then another and another. Images of people faded in and out like memories, coming and going with the flow of the music.

You never felt anything like this before. The strings sang inside you, drawing out a melody you knew was there, but had always managed to slip from your grasp.

You surrendered to its current, following it deeper and deeper until all you could see, all you could touch was the music.

Behind your eyes the streets began to turn and change. Buildings loomed large overhead. You could hardly see the stars. A cold swept through your clothes, the chords of the melody vibrating with the shivers in your hands. The world was so much bigger and you were so much smaller.

No instrument laid in your hands, but still the music played on as if you had slipped into a dream.

You continued to walk unsure of where your feet were carrying you until something warm pressed against your back. Light reflected behind you, casting long shadows on the ground. A melody played, soft and soothing against your own. You turned towards it as the voices of long forgotten conversation and laughter accompanied the strings of a quartet.

Your chords and theirs brushed up against each other, a new light shining in the darkness, but just as soon as it began, it moved away, leaving you on your own once again.

You continued on, brushing against others. Sparks would fly, fire would ignite only for them it fade in front of your eyes.

Your own melody grew more desperate, moving and shaping itself to match whoever you found next only just able to cling onto the barest sense of itself.

An ache grew in your chest as you wandered, always searching, never finding. Something warm trailed down your cheeks. You let it flow, unable to stop. You wouldn’t end the story here, even as swirls of blues and blacks surrounded you. They wrapped around your body, filling your vision and squeezing tight around you until you felt the air being pushed out of your lungs. There was nothing else. Even the music had gone dead.

For what felt like a moment and eternity you sat there, alone in the dark.

A voice came to you then, but it didn’t come from the instrument tucked somewhere under your chin. No melody accompanied it. It was so far away. Something about it was so familiar. It spoke your name like a desperate prayer. You reached out for it.

The air itself moved around you as if you had plucked the very strings of the universe.

A low hum came next bringing with it two pin pricks of light. A red fire glowed in the darkened space, growing until they sat as two eyes burning in the air.

You cocked your head to the side. Your own song started again, cautious as it curled around the eyes, examining them from different angles.

The eyes crinkled at the edges, amused by your persistence.

With a blur of motion, it turned to the side allowing a profile to form and beginning an enticing melody of its own.

You and the face took turns, calling and answering in playful antagonism.

The lines of light continued downward as its counter melody grew in strength against your own, forming the outline of a man.

He stepped towards you, his own head turning to the side as yours had done before, examining you from every angle.

After a moment, he bowed. You curtseyed. And then you did what only felt natural. You danced.

The heat of his touch burned your skin, but you didn’t dare pull away. You had been cold for so long you hadn’t even known you were cold. Even when it became too much, the fear of the darkness kept you in his light.

The man in turn held you close, his song teasing against your own. So unlike the duet from before, this was a true conversation, the pair of you giving and taking in equal measure. You didn’t want it to stop, holding the feeling tighter and tighter until you felt the pulse of his fire inside you.

You looked up to find the embers of his eyes pouring into you. He moved your hand to his chest. A heart pumped beneath and you knew then it wasn’t his own. Just as you had taken from him, he had taken from you in equal measure.

His face came into focus, forming a familiar knowing smirk and playful scarlet eyes.

He stepped back from you, his hand holding yours as he bowed, placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

The song faded away and you were once again in your own body, a violin tucked carefully beneath your chin.

You blinked your eyes open to find the tavern standing as it had been moments ago. Patrons surrounded you, their eyes wide and mouths open. You glanced around the room, quickly finding your companions. Horror struck you as you read their expression.

They’d seen it. All of it.

Before you could register what was happening a wave of applause erupted from the crowd. People began to cheer. You heard awed whoops and hollers. The adoration was overwhelming and completely miss timed. You needed to lie down. You needed to think.

Numbly you bowed before making your way to the side of the room where the barkeeper stood.

You held the instrument out to her, unable to look her directly in the eye.

“Thank you for letting me play this,” you said.

To your surprise she didn’t take it, instead pushing your hands away with a shake of her head.

“Keep it love,” she said. “After seeing all that, feels wrong to take it away from you. You’ve more than earned the right to it.”

You wanted to argue. You wanted to scream. You wanted to curse her for ever asking you to touch the damned thing. Somehow you managed to swallow all of that down, mumbling another thank you before slowly turning towards your party.

There was still a chance to salvage this. Astarion hadn’t seen his own reflection in centuries. He didn’t know what he looked like. You could play this whole thing up to artistic license. You just carried a general feeling of desperate longing. No need for you to clarify its direction.

Making a point to keep your head down, you put the violin away and slid it over to Gale.

“Feel free to eat this one if you want,” you said. It was meant to be a joke, but even you could feel it fall flat.

“I don’t think I can do that,” Gale said, his tone holding nothing but sympathy.

“It really was lovely,” Wyll said, gently.

“Beautiful really,” Shadowheart added.

Your jaw tightened, caught between the urge to scream or weep. Why couldn’t everybody do you the favor of the lifetime and forget they saw anything.

“Personally I don’t understand your choice in the spawn, but–” Lae’zel started only to be hit hard in the arm by Karlach.

“What?” she snapped.

Your whole body cringed, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“That was…me?”

You were in hell. This was hell. You didn’t have to look up to see Astarion’s self satisfied expression. His tone made it clear enough.

In a flash you stepped back from the table, putting as much distance between you and the party as possible.

“I need to go,” you managed. “Goodnight.”

You sprinted out of the tavern, taking two steps of the time to the upper rooms. You didn’t stop until your door was firmly slapped behind you.

Your breaths came hard as your heart pounded in your chest. Honestly you didn’t know how you locked the door. Your hands were shaking so badly as tears blurred your vision. All the emotions the violin had pulled from you returned, overwhelming you in their intensity.

The instrument had done as advertised. It had shown the truth of your heart, putting it on display for the whole world to see. Gods you were an idiot. Why did you even pick up that damned thing?

You kept your ears open, listening as everyone made their way to their rooms. Their murmurs never made it past the walls, but the way they paused as they passed your door made it clear enough they were discussing you. Thankfully they were kind enough to leave you be.

Counting, you waited until all six doors shut before rising to your feet.

As you did, you felt a small pull at the back of your mind. A vision of a door number and the feeling of anticipation sat on your tongue. The invitation was clear enough; Astarion was waiting for you.

You wanted to ignore it, but you knew you couldn’t. There was no use in pretending any longer. The game was over and you would have to face the consequences.

With a steeling breath, you walked out the door. You could only hope Astarion wouldn’t hate you when it was all over.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #bard!reader #asexual!reader #asexual #bard!tav #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x evie

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boo-cool-robot · 2 months ago

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Hieron Zine Comic: The Violence of Its Maintenance

[Read the left side as one storyline, the right side as another]

"For every inside, an outside." / "Every border implies the violence of its maintenance."

For me and @wellnoe's piece for the Hieron Zine, we were excited to tell a story about Hella’s semi-involuntary status as a mascot of Ordennan empire and borders as a literal technology of death that played with comic borders and formatting! The title is, of course, from the Ayesha A. Siddiqi quote.

Script for the comic below the cut, which also serves as a rough image description:

Layout note: Panels are small relative to the page and “float” in the gutter space. Adelaide swims freely between them and speaks to Hella inside the panels’ borders. The comic is laid out vertically, mostly in two columns. Panels on the left are labeled L, the center labeled M, and right labeled R. Panel numbers denote which row of the overall page they’re on.

Page 1: 3 Rows

Panel M.1.A: Adaire hunched over a map of Hieron in a dimming twilight room.

Panel M.1.B: Close up of the map having Nacre added to it near the shore, and an outline sketched of its border, the pencil in Adaire’s hand.

Panel M.1.C: Adaire’s hand in close-up, partially erasing the border around Nacre.

Panel L.2: Hella outside the Ordennan border, at a tall gate. A guard looks at her suspiciously from the other side.

Adelaide to Panel L.2: Adelaide looks at Hella condescendingly.

Adelaide: Do you imagine that walls will keep Nacre’s gift out?

Panel R.2: Hella and Hadrian ride in a halfling-driven cart through the refugee camp towards the Ordennan military camp. Hadrian watches Hella for her reaction to seeing the refugees.

Panel L.3: Hella displays the emblem of the Tristes to a crowd of cheering soldiers, brandishing her sword in a stabbing gesture.

Soldiers: Is that– From the cleansing of Nacre– She killed the queen!

Adelaide to panel L.3: For every inside…

Panel R.3: Stornras Glasseye shows Hella and Hadrian a map of Ordenna’s planned invasion of Velas.

Adelaide to panel R.3: …an outside.

Page 2: 4 Rows

Panel L.1: Hella reads the book about her family being a line of traitors, inside the undersea cave. She is hunched over awkwardly, wet from swimming in, and visibly perturbed.

Adelaide to Panel L.1: Adelaide reads over Hella’s shoulder. She’s draped over the panel like a cat, one hand dangling inside and the other holding an apple to her mouth.

Adelaide: Our dear father did like that ancestor of yours, only for her to betray Nacre and then Ordenna. Varals love to hang people out to dry.

Panel R.1: Hadrian and Hella interrogating Iduna Fel. Hella holds a torch up. Iduna, seated and hands bound, looks up at them and snarls at the torch, speaking of how Quintrona should burn Rosemerrow to stop the undead.

Iduna Fel: We should be burning every place–every person–the curse has touched.

Adelaide to Panel R.1: A family of traitors fits right in with the Tristes.

Panel L.2.A: Hella is on tour of Ordenna. She looks out distantly at the countryside. A clothesline with clothing hanging from them forming figures like people separates Hella in the panel from a mine like the ones her father worked.

Panel L.3.B: Hella on tour in an urban center, looking lost. Train tracks separate Hella from a guard station.

Ordennan soldiers: Queenkiller! It’s the Queenkiller!

Adelaide to panels L.2: Adelaide’s teeth are bared, her lazy demeanor dropping for one vicious moment.

Adelaide:At least I remember that you should be called Kingkiller as well.

Panel R.2: Hella and Hadrian walking back through the refugee camp. Refugees do laundry, multiple clotheslines crossing the panel, the clothes partially obscuring Hella and Hadrian.

Adelaide to panel R.2: Do you believe your people to be better than me? They decide who dies to expand the borders of Ordenna.

Panel L.3: Hella marching in front of a company of Anchor in a square formation, Ordennan soldiers crowding around them. Hella is smiling stiffly, uncomfortable. She is wearing a shiny new uniform.

Panel R.3: Hella standing equally stiffly in front of a line of Pala-din that guard the Ordennan camp from the refugees. She watches a circle of refugees cooking and crafting, going about the business of their survival. Some are visibly undead. Two of the refugees are a Nacreite young Black sibling pair with an older boy and younger girl, invoking Calhoun and Adelaide. Hadrian in the background examines a pala-din, his stance mirroring theirs.

Adelaide to panel R.3: Adelaide looks at the siblings in panel R.3 but speaks over her shoulder to Hella on the left.

Adelaide: Is it so monstrous that Nacre grows so that more may live after death?

Panel L.4: Hella alone in a lavish Ordennan bedroom, looking out of place and small. Maybe in plain underclothes and curled up on a chair, looking angry.

Hella: Yes!

Her dialogue fills up the panel, crowding her.

Panel R.4: The refugees notice Hella and Hadrian and look at them warily. The boy steps in front of his sister. Hella looks small in the crowd of people. She holds a hand out to the boy.

Page 3: 3 Rows

Panel L.1: Hella in a lavish Ordennan ceremonial chamber, on a stage. She is dressed in fine clothing given to her. A pearl-studded brooch with an Ordennan motif is being pinned on her by some military-uniformed functionary.

Military functionary: For you, the spoils of our first battle.

Gathered soldiers and civilians: Queenkiller! Queenkiller! Queenkiller!

Panel R.1: Hella makes an awkward ‘open your hand’ gesture to the boy, who warily opens his hand.

Refugees: Isn’t she….That’s the Queenkiller. The Queenkiller?

Panel L2: Hella, with her head bowed, has her arms and shoulders draped with garlands of gems and pearls looted from Nacre. The ends of the strands run down out of the bottom and side of the panel.

Military functionary: May you always bear the fruits of our holy empire.

Panel R.2: The boy has a handful of apple candies poured into his palm. He looks up, defiantly. A few candies fall down outside the panel.

Adelaide, to both panels L.2 and R.2: She holds the end of a pearl garland in one hand and an apple candy in another

Adelaide: Then tell me…What are you going to do about it, Hella Varal?

Panel M.3.A: Adaire’s hand drawing the refugee camp in Knoll Hollow into a map of Rosemerrow.

Panel M.3.B: The Ordennan military camp being drawn outside the refugee camp.

Panel M.3.C: The wall around Rosemerrow being drawn between the refugee and Ordennan camps as a border.

Title Text: The Violence of Its Maintenance

Subtitle: Story and words by Will Xia (boo-cool-robot)

Art and lettering by Brenna (wellnoe)

#friends at the table #hieron zine #hella varal #hieron #adelaide triste #sorry if the script is also bad to read. drew brenna a diagram to go with it lmao.#brenna: every time we do a project together you ask me to draw something technically challenging #the red candies are apple candies in particular btw #because apples have begun being eaten outside nacre #I was really thinking about consumer goods as a reflection of colonial relations after watching in the mood for love last year #mine #I should have a tag for things me and brenna make together I guess....#a podcast about sadness and that's it period

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welcomethefears · 6 months ago

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Part One || Part Three

(Oops I slipped and wrote more :) )

As he heard the sound of clashing swords behind him, Legolas once again felt his mind drifting to (Y/N), not for the first time since the fellowship had left Rivendell. As Boromir, a rather bawdy human as Legolas regarded, clashed playfully with the Hobbits, Legolas found himself tracing another memory of the (H/C) haired she-elf. Seeing the clashing of sword and dagger, well swords for the halflings, Legolas saw his young friend.

It was one of the trips soon after the one he initially met (Y/N), during a time in which they always fought. That day was no different. In trying to prove herself, or as he thought at the time, embarrass him, Legolas had approached his regiment of guards only to find them fighting the young noble born girl. He remembered how taken aback he had been, seeing what he thought a prissy princess to be tussling with warrior elves. She was holding her own only due to her vigour, as undoubtedly her movements were sloppy and unrefined. Although to any other race of Middle Earth she would seem as graceful as a trained dancer, Legolas’ keen eyes picked apart each mistake she had made. Upon seeing their prince, the Mirkwood elves had dispersed, and the guard attacking (Y/N) had disengaged much to her frustration.

“What do you want pretty boy?” (Y/N) had asked him in an annoyed tone, causing Legolas to blush lightly, both now upon reliving the memory and in the memory. At the time however, Legolas was also angered by her words. During those years of rivalry, she loved to call him names, always enjoyed seeing him seethe with indignation. Perhaps it had been because of how flawless his father was that she wanted to crack his uptight shell, or perhaps when she called him pretty boy, she had really meant it. Legolas now believed the latter but chuckled slightly remembering what had happened next.

“I have a patrol in the forests I need to take this lot on. If you’ll return to your father’s side then perhaps, we can continue with our work unimpeded,” He had asserted, wanting to pinch a nerve. He had done so successfully, as he watched her face flush in embarrassment at his words, however the outcome was completely different from what he had desired.

“I believe you’ll need an extra pair of hands, led the way, Prince Legolas,” She replied angrily, grabbing at a nearby short sword and shoving it into the leather belt she wore around her tunic. She had not been bluffing when she asserted, she’d join the patrol, and Legolas now thought that had been her ploy all along, after all, she hadn’t worn one of her flowing gowns that day. He recalls how she stuck annoyingly close to his side that patrol, taking a lead jokingly over him in a way that he had felt undermined his leadership. In reality she had just been trying to amuse him and help him where she could. He remembers now how her braided (H/C) shone in the rare pockets of sunshine that Mirkwood forest would sometimes get, and how his arrow was trained towards the unknown that may threaten her. He cannot recall how the two separated from the regiment, but he can picture what they encountered next. It was a nest of the large spiders that threatened the peace of the Mirkwood forest, and Legolas had been swift to decimate as many fledgling arachnids as possible. Before he could finish them off however she had launched herself to stand between the remaining spiderlings and him.

“Stand aside, Princess,” He had hissed at her, already frustrated with her presence, anger growing even further with her current actions.

“This is foolish Legolas. If you kill all these spiderlings the fully grown ones will grow agitated. You’re putting future patrols in danger. Besides, killing every single one will disrupt the natural order. We must leave at leave some alive, so the earth is stable,” She had asserted, drawing her sword from her side to defend the creatures further. Legolas was beyond furious at the time, but now he could see her strength in that moment. (Y/N) had always been more connected with the land and her creatures than he ever had, and she was easily more knowledgeable as well. He admired that about her now, but during this incident he hated it fiercely. At the time he drew him own short sword, and the two clashed as best they could. Despite her best attempts, Legolas was, and always had been, the greater fighter of the two.

Legolas had pinned her the forest floor, her braid picking up twigs and green grass from the forest floor as she grit her teeth at his proximity. In a flush of anger and annoyance he had pressed the blade in her neck, yet she stared back at him defiantly. They had eventually been broken apart when a more senior guard had found and dragged the two back to the citadel as they threw insults at each other. The nest had been left, and although Legolas had to fight off those spiders later, he acknowledged that the order of the forest remained for another cycle.

He shook his head as he returned to the current moment, glancing at the play fight in front of him. It was much less aggressive than his had been with (Y/N) all those decades ago, and so he shook his head softly. He felt someone bump his shoulder, and Aragorn looked almost knowingly into his eyes.

“Keep a look out, will you?” Aragorn instructed, directly Legolas’ gaze to the horizon with his own grey eyes. Legolas rolled his eyes in response, before turning to dutifully keep look out for the group. As he kept watch, hearing the clashing of swords still, his eyebrows furrowed as he saw something on the horizon.

“What is that?” Sam asked with concern.

“Nothing… it’s just a whisp of cloud,” Gimli dismissed, causing Legolas to grow agitated, just as he had once done with (Y/N).

“It’s moving fast… against the wind,” Boromir observed worriedly, immediately halting the fight which had cause Legolas to reminisce. Legolas raised his own brows in worry now, before yelling to group in a panicked warning.

“Crebain from Dunland!”

“Hide!” Instructed Aragorn as Legolas hid as quickly as he could. As he found cover, his thought flashed quickly to (Y/N), wondering what she would have done in this situation.

~*~

Legolas looked on carefully as Bill the pony retreated from the Fellowship, the small, stout and reliable creature that was now unburdened from the supplies trotted away with little care. Aragorn had said he knew the way home, but Legolas couldn’t help but worry slightly about the poor creature. Perhaps that was a lingering effect from (Y/N)’s companionship, his worries and valuing of the creatures of Middle Earth. That time he had found her with an eagle was not exceptional, and he found his lips upturning slightly while thinking of her nurturing approach to creatures. Sam seemed fairly upset and quietly unsettled at having to say his goodbyes to Bill, but Legolas knew it was for the better. The quest ahead was going to be rough to put it lightly, and it was no place for such a kind soul as a pony. Although they had not spoken at length so far on this journey, Legolas found himself wandering towards the round halfling. Upon closer inspection, this was hitting Sam harder than Legolas first assumed. Likely Bill’s departure was an indication that this journey was going to be so much harder than Sam had ever imagined, for if a pony could not accompany them, it was surely going to be a challenge.

“It is better he does not accompany us. I was told once that equine’s will follow their companions through the worst dangers possible, without a care for their own wellbeing. It is a kind mercy that you spare Bill from facing what is ahead,” Legolas told Sam, trying his best to comfort him. He had placed a hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him, but in truth Legolas had little experience physically comforting people. Even when he had broken (Y/N)’s heart, he had awkwardly hovered over her sobbing form, unable to find it in himself to reach out and embrace her.

“I am grateful for your words. The person who told you that is as wise as they are kind Mr Legolas,” Sam replied, patting Legolas’ hand to acknowledge his attempts to comfort him. Legolas nodded, his smile from before at remembering (Y/N) growing more.

“She is indeed,” Legolas confirmed with a nod, pulling his hand away to give Sam a little space to process his feelings.

“Tell me about this elleth, perhaps it will distract me from the sadness I feel over Bill,” Sam instructed, although his tone was incredibly soft and melancholic. Legolas smiled but was quietly surprised that Sam did not know he was talking about (Y/N). From how close Frodo and Sam were, he had assumed that Frodo had relayed all the information he knew. As Legolas recalled, Hobbits had a penchant for gossip, but nonetheless he felt lighter at the prospect of talking about someone he valued so dearly.

“I recall this one memory in particular of her, from when we used to despise each other, though I promise now she is valued companion. I had been visiting her family in Rivendell to participate in negotiations of some description, I no longer remember the specifics. I had been tending to my horse a day or so after my arrival, brushing his coat in an attempt to escape the politics of my father. This elleth, her name is (Y/N), had approached me in the stables. Her (h/c) hair was braided neatly, and she was dressed in riding clothes. It was clear that she was there for similar reasons. She approached her own horse, a dappled grey mare, who whinnied softly at seeing her rider. (Y/N) has always been in tune with the creatures of Middle Earth, as was evident with the way all the horses in the stable had turned their attention to her, including my own stallion. In those days I was jealous of her abilities, and I was immature enough to let a competitive spirit sour our encounters.

She approached me kindly while holding the mare’s reins and informed me that the way I was tending to my horse could be better, and that he preferred a wooden comb for his mane. She has this innate ability to read all those around her, including the creatures she wandered through life with. Before I learnt to appreciate this, it angered me greatly. I challenged her to a ride around the outskirts of Rivendell, intending to demonstrate my own prowess with horses. (Y/N) is stubborn, always has been, and so she angered slightly at my own attitude. I know now that challenging her, questioning her about her knowledge of creatures was foolish, she had always been insecure of her abilities. I should not have pushed her to race, and yet she responded with a fire I have rarely seen in any companion I have known.

She was quick, a strong rider with an even stronger bond to her mare which she tended to like a mother would a child. This was her only weakness in the race against me, she cared too greatly for the creature. I purposely chose a path which would push our horses, and I knew no fear in placing my horse in danger. She lost the race and was furious at me. She could not care less about the race by the end of it, for she was more concerned for the wellbeing of my stallion. She would be terrible on a battlefield, but I could tell this care was why Rivendell had such loyal horses. I was astounded by her accusation, that I cared little for my stallion, and stormed away to calm myself in a nearby forest.

She had found us later, the horse and I, approaching in a calmer manner. She apologized for outburst towards me, before explaining herself. It was then I understood her perspective, and little by little I have been working towards viewing all of Middle Earth’s creatures with the reverence she has for them. She would be proud we are caring for Bill in such a way, since he is a loyal pony who would do anything for you,” Legolas finished, smiling down at Sam as he finished recounting the tale. He purposefully left out the part where he had truly started to admire her after this encounter, and that he had apologized greatly for placing his horse in danger over a simple rivalry.

Upon reflection now, he had challenged (Y/N) to the race so he could watch her ride. When he had watched her ride into Mirkwood she had always been rigid and proper, so seeing a more relaxed version of her race him was tantalizing. Her husbandry of horses was incredible, that he could now admit. She was an incredible rider and even better carer, and Legolas was in quiet awe each time he rode with her. Perhaps it was his own insecurity about his connection to the lands, feeling that as an elf, a prince at that, his knowledge should be strong. Now though, he knew simply that her knowledge filled his gaps, rather than challenged his.

“She sounds very kind indeed. You seem incredibly fond of this elleth,” Sam replied after fully absorbing Legolas’ story. Legolas blinked himself back into the moment, tearing his mind away from the image of (Y/N) riding her mare with incredible skill.

“I am fond of her. She is one of my closest companions,” Legolas replied with a smile.

“A companion? Forgive me for my forwardness Mr Legolas but you speak of (Y/N) the way I speak of Rosie Cotton. She is the most amazing lass I have ever seen, and I intend to marry her one day,” Sam announced confidently to Legolas, which took him a back slightly. He spoke of (Y/N) the way Sam spoke of the woman he wanted to marry? Legolas was shocked, he could not form his thoughts, let alone words for the thoughts. Married? To (Y/N)? His stomach churned and his heart felt heavy as he thought about the gorgeous elleth who’s heart he had shattered in a million pieces.

“I wish you luck in wooing your love,” Legolas replied in a way which was certainly kind, but also indicated that he did not wish to address the conversation further. Sam nodded in response, picking up on the subtle hint that Legolas was struggling to understand how he felt.

Legolas departed from Sam’s side, sitting himself on a rock nearby to gaze at the water. He watched with narrowed eyes as Merry and Pippin threw rocks into the water, trying his best to attune himself to the present rather than become preoccupied with more, overwhelming thoughts of (Y/N).

#x reader #lotr #lord of the rings #legolas #legolas greenleaf #lord of the rings fellowship of the ring #fellowship of the ring #legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas x y/n

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totallynottinsel · 14 days ago

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With the help from some folks at wonderful @acorn-and-oakleaves , I now present...

The Chronicles of Bilbo Baggins Being Carried There and Back

Pt. 1 Here

Bilbo had been certain the night in the woods was the very last time he would ever be in the arms of a dwarf again, but he had been greatly mistaken to an absurd degree.

"So, did you enjoy the view?" Fili was bumping at his shoulder obnoxiously, and was soon joined by his brother to pester him even further.

"Must've been pretty high for you 'an all." Kili waggled his eyebrows.

"What in the world are you two going on about?" He turned his head between the two boys who giggled like he wasn't even there. Of course, Bilbo was unfortunately aware of what had them so giddy, and had been since the night Thorin carried him all the way to camp... and gave him his coat to sleep with, but that was the end of it. The boys just kept on laughing without another word. "Well, you're getting a kick out of this, aren't you?"

"Oh, come on! Don't be such a downer," Kili patted him on the back. "We saw the way you were looking at him."

"Who?" Bilbo wasn't going to make it easy for them.

"Thorin!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure, sure." Fili nodded. "You know, if our dear old uncle can't be of assistance, we're always here to help."

"His back could give out at any moment, really. It's only fair we lighten the load a bit," Said Kili.

Bilbo wasn't entirely sure how he felt about being referred to as a 'load', but that was hardly the worst bit. "Ah, yes, thank you. But I'm fine and well as---"

"Why not give it a go now? You shouldn't walk on a bad leg for long." Fili insisted. "I've lifted stones half your size, shouldn't be a problem!"

"Hang on, why do you get to carry our burglar around? I think I'm far more qualified. You're getting a bit old, Fi. Wouldn't want to hurt yourself."

"That's rich coming from the only dwarf in our family who can't beat mother in an arm wrestle."

"She cheats, I swear!"

In those few minutes Bilbo had gotten stuck in the middle of the boy's sudden squabble about who should be the one to carry him, even though he tried telling them to do anything but that. Use him as a makeshift sword for all he cared, just not snatched up like a stray kitten! Eventually things got a bit out of hand, and Fili and Kili settled on joining together to lift him up, but only got one finger on the hobbit before Thorin's voice cut through from the front of the pack. "That's enough. Leave him be." They frowned but listened to Thorin either way and trotted off.

The third incident happened not long after their arrival and escape in Mirkwood...

"Bilbo! Where is the hobbit?" Shouted Thorin as he trudged through the river's currents, splashing the water aside with each step. "Find him!" He commanded of the company, who were desperate for breath and flopping like fish to the safety of the shoreline. Thorin's heart pounded against his chest from the exhilaration and looming fear, scrambling for a sign of the halfling. He jumped for purchase over the water when he heard a cry of notice, and finally spotted Bilbo's head fly upward for air, no longer having the support of a barrel to hold him from sinking. "Bilbo!"

Thorin fought with the current fiercely, making it in the nick of time to grab for Bilbo as he disappeared under the waves, lifting him to the surface. Bilbo grasped for hold over the dwarf, folding his arms around his shoulders as he was hoisted away from the cold depths.

The whole event had been a blur to Bilbo, as the next he knew his back hit the hard, rocky sand and coughed up the rest of the unwanted water that forced its way down his system. Nearly drowning wasn't on his bucket list, but that was that.

"Are you alright?"

Bilbo blew out some air and met eyes with Thorin, who, at that moment---was huddled over him, practically pinning him to the ground. In that spell of realization on both their ends, they stared at each other silently as they tried steading their breath. Thorin quickly moved off from him when it started to draw unwanted attention.

Bilbo nodded a bit frantically and averted his gaze. "Ah, yes, yes." He stood up, completely frazzled by the trip down the river and the oddness that was plaguing him and Thorin more often than not. He tried not to look into the interaction too much. "Thank you." If not for Bard's arrival to come ferry them to Laketown, surely he would've been tempted to ask Thorin what exactly he may be playing at, unless he was truly only watching out for him because they still very much needed a functioning burglar. That was probably it. Bilbo reminded himself; by the time he'd done his job, Thorin wouldn't bat an eye his way, surely?

Laketown, in fact, proved otherwise.

That night the company was presented with all the fish they could eat, a secret stash of spirits, and a stay at the Masters humble abode. For the most part, Thorin indulged in little of his kin's antics and play around the table, more focused on what may come of the Mountain when they arrived. That was, until he caught wind of some of the company members buddying up with their burglar. Of course, that usually wasn't something that bothered him, but the way Bofur hung an arm around him tipsily and made Bilbo laugh rubbed him the wrong way. He bit his tongue back and simply ignored the pair.

It was another whole thing when Glóin and Bifur, swayed by the whims of his drink and the hollers around him, urged Bilbo up onto the dining table by lifting him up onto it. Nori climbed up afterward and gave the hobbit a wobbly bow. "May I have a dance with you this night?" He laughed, trying to put on a show regardless of the fact Bilbo was trying his best to escape the ordeal. Bilbo flashed Thorin a helpless smile after noticing his eyes were on him.

"You could've done that." Kíli murmured, sat beside him stuck with his injury and just as jolly as his uncle was.

Thorin simply peered at him, brows raised in a mix of disdain and hopeless confusion.

"Nevermind." Kíli went back to picking at his plate.

The final straw that night had come when he spotted Bilbo being cornered by a slimy duo of the Masters guards. The men poked and prodded him as if he were a creature that swam up from the Lake, very much so never meeting a hobbit before. "Don't even bother puttin' on shoes? That's odd." Or "Never heard of hobbits, pfft! Probably just an unlucky dwarf." They said. Bilbo ignored them for the most part, till he tried getting up to leave and one of them seized him by the scruff of his coat.

Thorin's chair squealed against the wood of the floor harshly as he pushed it back, the fire in him boiling over. When he approached he ushered Bilbo behind him, and at that the man let go, laughing incessantly about how it was 'just a good joke'. Thorin gestured to the rest of the company to lower their fists and makeshift weapons. "Lay another hand on him and you will not have one to do so again." He hissed, but the man shrugged his threats off with a lopsided grin.

"Right, and who put you in charge of ordering us about? You don't look like the Master to me, mate." One snorted. "We'll go around how we please."

"Ah, no---no, he's right, you really shouldn't touch me." Bilbo peered over Thorin's shoulder, breaking the tense silence between the two before an all out man to man happened.

"Oh? Why's that?"

Aside from it being simple decency? Bilbo wanted to spit back at him, but went along with his half-baked story. "Because I... hobbit's like me carry a horrible sickness, you know. It doesn't affect dwarves, but men like you I'm afraid... well, you'll find out soon enough."

The two men eyed each other unknowingly. "Why should we believe that? You've been around the whole town!"

"Uh, yes, it isn't... air born---only when I touch someone. Or somebody touches me. One tell tale sign that it spread is... if---if I faint!" At the snap of the word faint he gripped Thorin's arm, and the dwarf gave him a curious stare, thinking back on his antics with the Trolls letting him continue. Bilbo figured he may as well kill two birds with one stone; scare the men away for good and have an excuse to leave the party for some well earned rest. "In fact, I feel a bit light headed as we speak. Oh, no!" He dramatically draped a hand over his forehead and tipped backward, truly hoping Thorin would receive the message and catch him before he hit the floor, which thankfully he did.

"What the...?" One of the men looked utterly clueless, as well as the entire company.

"I don't believe there is a cure." Thorin played into the gag out of spite, certainly pleased with himself as he scooped an arm under Bilbo's legs (who was trying his best to stay limp) to hold him up firmly. The only thing the both of them heard was the panicked cries of the men trying to contemplate their fates as Thorin carried him up to the guest courters. Once they were out of sight Bilbo finally felt like he could breath again.

"Can't believe the trolls were smarter than those two," Bilbo chuckled, planting his feet back to the floor, glad to be safe from the wobbly ascend up the stairs.

"How do you make up those stories so well? I was beginning to be convinced." Thorin asked.

"I don't know, I just... talk. And hope it works." Bilbo shortly shrugged. "Er, thank you for helping me, anyways."

"Of course. I would've done more for the way they treated you."

"I know, that's why I improvised. So I didn't have to fish you all out from another fight. Ah, poor choice of words, I suppose..." Bilbo's nose twitched as the air ran stiff around them, leaving the two in a rather awkward game of who will speak or leave the conversation first. Bilbo fastened his gaze on the lines of the dwarf's boots. "You... didn't seem to want to partake in the festivities all that much."

"My mind has been elsewhere, I'm afraid."

"Oh, I see."

More unfortunate silence followed for a few moments.

"You could have asked me for a dance."

Thorin locked eyes with him far too seamlessly. "And what would you have said if I did?"

Bilbo didn't hesitate. "Yes." It was only then he realized how close they'd edged towards each other without thinking. He could feel Thorin's unmistakable heat sinking into his skin just as it had when he'd been engulfed in his arms. Suddenly he was searching for an excuse to be taken by those arms, just to feel him again. His heart jumped to his throat, and he was taken out of his selfish daydreams, running a hand at the door behind him in look for the knob. "Eh, well, I should really be getting to bed!" He laughed in attempt to conceal just about every other emotion jutting out of him. He kept feeling for the knob only to be directed to it's position far above both their heads. "Ah." Fate was not a friend to Bilbo Baggins. "I'll figure that one out. You should get some rest as well; we've got a fairly big day ahead of us tomorrow."

Thorin nodded his way. "Rest well, Master Baggins."

"Goodnight, Thorin."

As soon as the dwarf was out of earshot, Bilbo's forehead knocked against the door for his award-winning stupidity.

---------

Some time later...

The Battle had been won, blood had been spilled, and the Defiler had been put to rest for good. Though Thorin, Fíli and Kíli suffered wounds that took time to mend, they persevered in their typical stubborn fashion. Bilbo had mostly come unscathed, a few bruises here and there. His real trouble had come during months after, where he'd gone and stumbled down a stone cold (quite literal) stairway and twisted his ankle. There wasn't much need for stairs in the Shire, and with Erebor's lack of consistent railing to keep you from falling, it was inevitable he suffered from it.

The worst part being he was stuck having members of the company lug him around to his weekly check-ins, meals, practically everything! They were also afraid if they let him attempt to walk with a crutch, he'd fall again, so he was ordered to be off the ground at all times. He didn't have any room to argue or ask the single soul in all of Erebor that could save him. During that time Thorin had felt well enough to begin starting his kingly duties and therefore was busy from dawn till dusk; Bilbo was lucky to spot him even once---or awake not passed out on a desk full of papers.

One morning Bilbo had been fished out of bed against his wishes by the hands of Dwalin. The dwarf hauled him over his shoulder as if he were a sack of potatoes. "C'mon, time to get going." Dwalin had been the only one to be able to hold Bilbo at bay, sturdy enough to brush off the hobbit's tries at wriggling out of his grip. As well as Bilbo's lively choice of words.

"This is outrageous! Dwalin I've had just about enough of this from all of you---I'm a grown hobbit and I can well walk my way to the breakfast table! Unhand me you absolute walnut---oh, finally!" Bilbo lifted his head to see a familiar figure pass by. Thorin looked at him completely wide-eyed, though not all that surprised. "Thorin, tell him to let me go! Nobody bloody listens to me and I---"

"Don't even start. He's got a busted ankle, Óin said we shouldn't let 'im on it." Dwalin said gruffly.

"You what?" That had caught Thorin off; apparently, he'd been so busy he hadn't heard the news, which did not particularly sit with him well.

"Yes, yes, I tripped on the stairs. But I'm well enough now to walk myself! You're the King, tell him to... Well, stop!"

Dwalin and Thorin must've spent about a solid minute staring at each other through some sort of telepathic communication.

"You sure its---"

"Dwalin."

"If the lads come knocking at my door, I'm puttin' this on you."

"Let him go."

"I hear you, I hear you." Dwalin slung the hobbit off from his shoulder, grumbling something as he stomped off to his well deserved breakfast that awaited him.

"Oh, I thought I was never going to touch the ground again," Bilbo leaned some pressure down onto his bad foot, which still felt rather unpleasant. His nose bunched at the tight zap of pain. "Thank you. I feel like I haven't seen you in ages... how has, er, royal business been?" Oddly he felt somewhat nervous to be speaking to Thorin face to face again; maybe it had been too long since they last spoke, or perhaps his new well-fitted kingly attire had him a bit distracted. Leave it to Thorin to wear his formal garb just ever so unbuttoned so that it left almost everything and nothing to the imagination.

Bilbo cleared his throat and offered a small smile to persuade his thoughts away.

"It is not for the faint of heart, that is for certain. But all things considered, I'd say we've gotten everything running smoothy and efficiently again. Though I will be moving getting us a proper stairway guard up my list," Thorin eyed the lines of bandages wrapped around his ankle, resisting the itching urge to ask if he'd gotten hurt in any other way. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I... at first I didn't want to bother you, and it's really not that big of a deal. You've got your hands full enough, no need to go on fussing over me."

"Will you at the very least let me walk you to breakfast, then?"

Bilbo found that request impossible to deny. "Of course. I'd quite enjoy that." Testing the murky waters yet again he took a single step forward with his bad leg, which was a horrible idea, he quickly realized. As his ankle constricted uncomfortably, he felt Thorin's hand over his back to steady him, offering him an arm to hold to. "Oh, thank you." With an accepted set of extra hands they made a fair amount down the everlasting halls, but it wasn't long before Bilbo couldn't take much of the pain he'd been applying to his ankle after all. It seemed Óin had been right. "Ah, this blasted thing..."

"I would offer a suggestion, but I don't believe you would be pleased with it." Spoke Thorin.

"Well, I won't know till I hear it."

"Our remaining option here is for me to carry you the rest of the way."

"Hm, yes, I suppose you're right."

Thorin looked truly bewildered. "With Dwalin you--?"

"That's different." Bilbo crossed his arms over his chest, as if he were offended.

"How so?"

"Because it... it just is? Your you, I'm me, we're... us. It's very different!" The way 'us' rolled off his tongue made his chest tighten. Luckily Thorin could see clearly enough that if they didn't move on, he would have a very hungry, displeased hobbit to handle. So, there they were once more.

Thorin had casually carried him to the kitchen, where Bilbo simply picked up his dish of lukewarm food and was totted out like he was the true king. "I knew it!" Dwalin threw up his hands in defeat. Bombur shrugged his way and continued dining.

Per his ask, Thorin placed him down on an unoccupied stone bench just around a hidden corner, sitting at his side. Bilbo picked at his plate for a few minutes, neither of them bothered by the quietness. Bilbo took note of the room looking oddly familiar, and it was only after where its significance came to mind; it was where he'd shown his acorn to Thorin. He didn't think they'd be together in that very room ever again given the circumstances, and yet---they were. Unspoken words of that day had flooded to him, the Arkenstone, the fear and weight, the want. The things he yearned to say but didn't. He could have a second chance. Perhaps fate was his friend after all.

"Eh, could I... no, never mind. Forget I said anything."

"Tell me," Thorin's eyes were on him, now intrigued.

Stupid, stupid! Why did you even say anything? Bilbo mentally batted himself, keeping his eyes on the floor and clutched at his trousers. He hadn't expected to suddenly back out of his question, one he shouldn't have even thought of---and now was stuck committing to it. He sucked in a breath. "I... I was going to ask if---ah, I could... kiss you." His stomach turned and Bilbo was transported to his days as a shy boy working through his feelings. He shook his head before Thorin could respond. "Don't say anything, I---sorry. I don't know why I said that. I shouldn't have."

Bilbo continued on with his parade of apologies and excuses, but as he turned to face Thorin head on his lips met with the dwarves. Initially he kept still, surprised by any sort of reciprocation at all, certain he must have been dreaming. His eyes fluttered shut, leaning in, ringing a hand through Thorin's hair. It was slow at first, but quickly teetered into a desperate feel that had built between them their entire journey. Bilbo pulled back to catch his breath. "Oh." He'd been so dazed he'd forgotten all about his ankle for a while.

"Was that a good enough answer?" Thorin wore a content smirk towards Bilbo's flustered demeanor.

"Good? I don't think there's a fair enough word to describe the tremendous effect you have, Thorin Oakenshield. Don't let that go to your head."

"It might."

Bilbo sighed and swatted at the dwarf's amusement.

----

Epilogue

"Right then; with my word I proclaim you, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, and Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror---bound in matrimony from this day forth!" Declared Balin, as cheers echoed over him. "Oh, go on, you've waited this long."

Bilbo smiled from ear to ear, standing up on his toes to pull Thorin in for a kiss. Thorin lifted him up into his arms, Bilbo's legs hooking around his waist. Hoots and whistles came bellowing from the company and others in celebration.

"Oh, I never thought I'd see the day..." Dís pooled her running tears to Fíli's shoulder, who hugged her tightly back to calm her happy sobs.

"Neither did I." Snorted Thranduil, who stood beside Tauriel. Though she was more focused on Kíli, as he was keen for her attention and the luck of a wedding passing to them.

"Dwalin, are you crying?" Fíli asked.

"No. No." Dwalin used his sleeve to run away the more than evident tears streaming down his cheek. "Fine! Let a man have his moments!"

"I thought he didn't like being held? Pfft, he made that clear to us," Kíli finally took a glance at the couple up front, remembering the decent amount of times Bilbo practically attacked them for even thinking of picking him up. Then there he was all smiles and kisses when Thorin did it.

"Still have bruises from when he broke that ankle." Dwalin murmured.

"No offense to you lot, but I wouldn't want anyone except my love carrying me." Dís said, and just about threw the others for a loop, as if that had never occurred to them till then.

From that day on the company stayed clear of ever carrying Bilbo Baggins again, while Thorin had his arms full often, quite literally.

#the hobbit #bagginshield #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #thorin x bilbo #fic request #I could NOT have done this without help from some epic ppl from the discord!! LOVE you guys #My brain was fried on how to make this prompt into a full fic but they were all geniuses 🙏🙏#sillyposting #gotta love jealous thorin hes a desperate fool #awkward flirting #tension allllllllllllll the unresolved tension i can put in here #SUFFER

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kiyo-cant-write · 7 months ago

Note

Heyya, sorry for coming back to request the same guy again, Silver. Probably I've been reading it and saw you write "down bad" and remember I have requested but no update if it has been written, and would like to see your writing again. If I remember, something goes like Yuu very open about their PDA, while Silver is close and not open about the PDA. Sometimes they got called "to get a room". Then in some way got a little suggestive, probably some implications they did "the deeds". I'm not into nsfw but suggestive and implications is okay

silver w/ a very affectionate s/o (yuu) ✧･ﾟ

Thank you for requesting again! I normally don't write this much for these requests but I got an idea nd had to see it through. That said... Please enjoy!

Summary: Silver's s/o is very affectionate and open with their feelings. Silver is the opposite. However, this man also dislikes the comments his peers are making. He takes matters into his own hands in ways that seem just a tad unlike him.

TW/CW: very mild/implied suggestive content

Notes: established relationship, gender neutral reader, they/them pronouns for the reader, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect

Guest Stars: Ace Trappola, Sebek Zigvolt

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Silver

Silver has never been good at being affectionate.

He's both a private person and an awkward one.

His s/o has told him that he looks like a prince, but he has a lot of trouble acting the part of one the way he thinks they want.

[Name] seems to want him to be a doting partner, but it's hard.

He can protect and defend all they need... but affection is different.

How do you hold someone? What is appropriate?

These are all things that Lillia did not teach him.

In the end, Silver remains avoidant of affection in public and clumsy about it behind closed doors. He does mean well, though.

Contrary to him, [Name] is a radiant force of pure affection.

They liked to hang on his arm or run and give him a hug,

While his expression remains serious, he doesn't mind. It's nice.

Silver dislikes comments from others, especially Sebek, about his relationship. Sebek's comments are just the loudest.

When in private, Silver can try to be more affectionate, but he's still learning how to be a good boyfriend to his s/o.

They were having some kind of party. Silver wasn't sure what it was all for but [Name]'s merry band of first-year friends were all there alongside himself, Sebek, his father, and Malleus. Things were... fine, he thought. They were eating food that [Name] had prepared for them with the help of the Ramshackle Ghosts and everyone seemed to be in good spirits. It wasn't until about an hour into the event that something decided to test Silver's patience.

That something... was Sebek Zigvolt.

"Sebek, must you be next to me right now?" Silver asked him, earning a scoff in return from the prideful halfling.

"NONSENSE. SILVER. YOU ARE DISRESPECTING OUR MASTER BY SITTING AWAY FROM HIM AT THIS EVENT."

Sebek was firm in his accusation.

"Sebek..." Silver began, trying to ease the tension, "You have—"

He was cut off by the feeling of arms wrapping around his shoulder and a kiss pressed to his cheek softly. It was [Name].

"Silver, do you want any more food?" they asked him, seemingly eager to help get him some if he wanted any.

"No, I am fine, thank you," he told them, "I ate enough."

Sebek reeled back as if he had been struck.

"HOW INDECENT!" Sebek cried out, causing at least two people at the gathering to turn in the direction of the three of them.

"Sebek—" Silver tried again, sounding a bit more annoyed this time.

[Name] leaned closer to Silver instinctively when Sebek yelled, the sudden sound startling them out of their own thoughts.

"You two are so in love, stop taunting us singles!" Ace called from across the way, trying to balance a plate of food that seemed just about ready to splatter onto the floor, "Get a room already!"

Silver sighed, unsure he had the patience for this crowd. Sebek wasn't helping either as he appeared to agree (at least in some form) with Ace's statement. It was irritating to deal with the whole lot of them.

"[Name]..." he whispered, knowing they could hear from their proximity, "Do you want to head upstairs? I doubt Father will let anything happen to damage Ramshackle."

"Hmmm...." [Name] hummed, thinking on it, "Sure...? I am kind of tired after all that cooking."

He nodded, moving to stand. [Name] let go of his shoulders in favor of holding onto Silver's hand, something he returned after a moment of deliberation, loosely holding onto the hand grasping his own.

"Even with the ghosts' help it was a lot of work," [Name] continued to tell him as he nodded along with what they were saying.

"I am sure it was. You made a lot for today."

Walking up the stairs, they soon entered the bedroom that [Name] shared with Grim. It was a simple room but it was not nearly as run-down as it had been, or so [Name] said. Walking across the room, they sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to them, urging Silver to join them.

"Alright," he agreed, sitting down on the bed with perfect posture.

He was tense from earlier, [Name] could see it in his shoulders.

"Silver, are you alright? Did Ace bother you?" [Name] asked him, worried.

Silver shrugged it off, not intrigued by the offer.

"Your friend always seems to be that way," he told them, plainly, stating the facts of his own experience.

"He can be energetic but I can talk to them if you want me—"

[Name] stopped mid-sentence when Silver looked at them with a certain gleam in his eyes. They knew he wanted to say something.

"Huh...? Sil?"

"[Name]..." Silver replied, seemingly piercing his sentence together,

"Yes..?"

[Name] wondered what Silver needed to say to them.

"May I... kiss you?" he asked them after a moment, face tinged red in a way so slight it was barely noticeable.

[Name] paused to process the request before nodding, as eager for this as they were to get him food, hang on his arm, or nuzzle up to him during these events with their friends. They were always like that.

Silver was not. Taciturn and even a bit gloomy at times, he was not the radiant and affectionate type as his partner was. Still, they loved him. They accepted this side of him that refused public displays of affection, that was clumsy behind closed doors, unsure of where to put his hands or what to say in a moment of closeness.

He pulled them closer to him, a gentle tug that [Name] followed with anticipation as Silver pressed his lips to theirs in a soft kiss. It was something gentle and light that [Name] felt was fitting for someone like him, a royal knight if there ever was one.

[Name] was not yet used to moments like these when Silver wanted to be affectionate. But they welcomed it.

In a brief moment between kisses, they say those words to him.

"I love you, you know, Sil."

"I..." Silver spoke, "Those words make me want to do something more than just a simple kiss, you know..."

He had never once given in, but now he had admitted it.

[Name] looked at him in surprise.

"Ah. Don't make me repeat it... please."

"I mean..." they tried again, "If you want to..."

...Imagine the rest yourself~ <3

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

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saphronethaleph · 1 month ago

Text

My, My, My, Elijah

Bilbo opened the door, and broke into a broad grin.

“Gandalf!” he said. “Oh, how wonderful it is to see you! It’s been years!”

“So it has,” Gandalf agreed. “Many more than I would like, but less than I could fear. Bilbo, it is good to see you so well.”

“Come in, come in,” Bilbo requested, stepping back. “I’ll be sure to get you something… what would you like?”

“Just tea, thank you,” Gandalf requested.

“Of course, of course,” Bilbo agreed. “And something to eat? There’s a rather fine loaf on the go, or I have some smoked bacon-”

“Just tea, thank you,” Gandalf reiterated, with a smile.

Bilbo nodded. “Yes, well then – that will be just fine. Capital, in fact. I do apologize, Gandalf, but it’s so rare that we meet and it seems a shame to have nothing more than tea to celebrate.”

Gandalf smiled.

“You are a thoughtful man, Bilbo Baggins,” he said. “Despite your… Tookish ways, of course.”

Bilbo chuckled.

“You don’t think I’d have come along with you on such an adventure as that without a little in the way of Tookishness, do you?” he pointed out, sitting down in an armchair in the front room, and Gandalf folded himself into the much bigger, overstuffed armchair on the other side of the room.

“I suppose not,” Gandalf mused, looking around, and frowned slightly. “I realize it has been a while, Bilbo, but… something seems different about your house.”

“Yes!” Bilbo agreed. “There’s someone else living here now, you know. I have an heir.”

“An heir,” Gandalf repeated, interested. “And how might such a thing have come about? What lady of Hobbiton caught the eye of Bilbo Baggins, I wonder?”

He smiled, amused. “And was it that I was not invited to the wedding?”

“Oh, no fear, no fear,” Bilbo replied, hastily. “No, he’s not my son in body, though certainly he is my heir legally… you see, I adopted him, four years ago now. The orphaned son of relatives from east of here, Brandy Hall way – it was that or end up leaving Bag End to the Sackville-Bagginses, and that was something I could not tolerate.”

“I suppose such would be a consideration,” Gandalf nodded, contemplatively. “You are getting on in years, old friend.”

Though Bilbo didn’t look it, it had to be said. Ninety-four years old, and it was as if he hadn’t aged a day since they had gone on the quest to the Lonely Mountain over four decades before. Years lay more lightly on the Halflings than on Men, but even so, that was a little ridiculous.

“Uncle Bilbo?” a slightly hesitant and muffled voice said. “I’ve brought the tea.”

“Excellent – thank you,” Bilbo said. “With the large teacup?”

“Yes, Uncle,” the same young voice agreed, and Gandalf leaned out of his chair to see the young Hobbit who Bilbo had taken as his heir.

Which was… not exactly what he saw.

Instead, there was what Gandalf could only, unmistakeably, describe as a dragon coming in through the door, purple-scaled and orange-bellied… balancing on three legs, holding a tea tray in one paw and his mouth, wings out slightly for balance. He reached the table and rose smoothly to his hind legs, using his other foreleg for support, and deposited it neatly on the table.

“It’s just lightly brewed, right now, Mr. Gandalf,” the dragon added, helpfully. “I don’t know quite how you take it, so you’ll need to leave it another few minutes to steep if you want it strong.”

“I see,” Gandalf said, with a nod. “Thank you… alas, I’m afraid I don’t have your name.”

“Spyro, sir,” the dragon introduced himself. “Spyro Baggins, at your service.”

He bowed slightly.

“Gandalf, at yours,” Gandalf replied. “Though… I’m terribly sorry, Spyro, but would it be possible to get a little milk for the tea? I’m afraid I sometimes take mine with milk.”

“Could you, Spyro?” Bilbo asked. “I do apologize, I should have mentioned.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Spyro replied, and was back out of the room in moments – heading, Gandalf was sure, to the cold room.

“Well, now,” Gandalf said, smiling, and turned his attention to Bilbo. “The orphaned son of relatives from east of here?”

“Yes,” Bilbo concurred, nodding. “My second cousin and his wife. Alas, they drowned in a boating accident… I assume, at least, for he was found on the riverbank. So I took him in.”

“I see,” Gandalf mused. “And I’m sure that if I asked anyone in Hobbiton, they’d tell me the same thing.”

“Of course,” Bilbo confirmed. “I do pay attention to what they say about me, you know – and about my young nephew. If you’ll believe it, they say he’s been quite good for me. Old Mr. Gamgee told me once that Tolman Cotton declared – in the way of someone who wishes that declaring to be heard quite far and wide – that he knew the lad was more purple than some others, but had a good head on his shoulders, and that he was doing a good job of keeping me from my more fanciful notions. Which is entirely too unkind to me, I’d say, but generous to Spyro, so I find it hard to complain.”

Gandalf nodded, slowly.

“How curious,” he said. “How very curious.”

Then he turned, at the sound of paws on the floor, and took the milk from Spyro.

“Thank you, young Master Baggins,” he said, and Spyro looked quite pleased at both the thanks and the title. “I think your coming to Hobbiton will do Bilbo a great deal of good, and others besides.”

“I say!” Bilbo protested, with a laugh. “Have a care, Gandalf – you’re not telling me that even you, who recruited me for that adventure, find my Tookishness tiresome?”

“I find your hiding behind it amusing,” Gandalf replied.

Privately, he had to wonder whether Bilbo’s second cousin and his wife had actually existed – though, whether they had or not, it made little difference to the situation.

And, right now, that situation was that there was a youngster, anxious to please and feeling nervous around a tall outsider… and there was tea to be poured.

So Gandalf decided to solve both at once, as best he could.

“Would you like me to pour you some as well?” he asked Spyro, already pouring some of the steeped tea into the large teacup himself, judging the strength, then added a little milk. “Or do your tastes run elsewhere.”

“I’d prefer mine without milk, Mr. Gandalf,” Spyro requested. “Are you really a wizard?”

“Indeed I am, though you’ll find that wizardry is less about flashy spells than many think about it,” Gandalf said, pouring some more tea for Spyro and finishing off with a third cup for Bilbo – just the way he remembered his old friend liked it. “It’s far more about how things are, and recognizing the difference between that and how things seem…”

Several decades later, and hundreds of miles away, the Council of Elrond stared at the simple golden ring on the table between them.

“The Ring is the very essence of Sauron,” Elrond of Rivendell stated. “It would corrupt, and ultimately destroy, whoever tried to use it.”

“I would not throw off such a weapon if it came into our keeping,” Boromir of Gondor replied.

“The Ring is a weapon, but not to be turned against its master,” Gandalf warned. “It is more in the nature of an army, or a skilled armsman, or a traitor in a castle – though none of those capture its true nature. It is a fragment of Sauron, and even if you could use it against him and achieve a seeming of success – it would all come to ill, in the end.”

“It’s part of Sauron,” Spyro voiced. “So it is how things are that it will not oppose Sauron, even if it seems that it does. Any attempt to use it will come to a bad end, unless it is for Sauron’s aims.”

“That is a fine way of saying it,” Gandalf said.

“So it must be destroyed, then,” the dwarf Gimli declared. “If it cannot be turned to good ends, then it must be put to an end for the good of all.”

“Alas, but it can only be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom,” Elrond said, as Spyro tilted his head slightly and moved across in front of Sam and Merry. “That is where it was created. Otherwise it would-”

Elrond was interrupted by a sudden blaze of intense blue light, as Spyro exhaled something that was to dragon-fire as the most mighty dragon-fire was to a match. All the Elves present, and Gandalf, flinched back in shock, then Elrond shook his head and blinked twice before looking at his table.

Which wasn’t there any more… and nor was the One Ring.

“I was thinking,” Spyro explained. “About why it is that it can’t be destroyed… it’s because it has to be destroyed in the world that is unseen, not the world that is seen. And I’m quite sure that my bright fire can do that.”

Gandalf raised an eyebrow.

“I did wonder why only six of the Nine Black Riders reached the Ford of Brunien,” he said, nodding slightly.

“I fear I should have asked more questions about the fighting before I arrived,” Aragorn admitted.

Elrond was looking at his hand.

“...ah,” he said. “Vilya appears to be losing strength, slowly but steadily… it would seem that it worked.”

“Nobody told me it had to be destroyed, before,” Spyro added. “I’m sorry about your table, Mr. Elrond, but I did want to hurry.”

“Well, that was easy,” Legolas of Mirkwood observed. “Should we continue with the meeting?”

#lord of the rings #bilbo baggins #gandalf #the legend of spyro #spyro draggins #spyro the dragon #hobbits

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qwimblenorrisstan · 11 months ago

Text

The Clandestine Culinarian | Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel requires a deadly poison, and the only place he can get acquire it is through a bakery in Hewn City, and in the process grows closer to you, the owner of the shop, and is there for you when tragedy strikes.

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: A lil bit of angst, mentions of blood, weapons, family death, nudity (taking bath), poisons, nothing explicit.

A/N: Got a little carried away with this, but I had a dream abt it so I think it’s the chosen one, hope you enjoy <3

Masterlist | Next

Requests are open!

Azriel found himself all ready for his newest mission, leathers on, Truth-Teller sharpened, siphons gleaming, however, there was just one thing he needed…

In truth, he hadn’t been surprised when Rhys asked him to take care of a group of Halflings that were lurking in what had been Hybern’s lands, attempting to create even a shadow of the power the fallen King had once possessed. Though Azriel could easily just slip in and slaughter all of them, Rhys advised him to exercise caution with this. Azriel was always cautious, silent as a mouse, moving in and out of the shadows at will.

Rhys didn’t want to have the blood of those Fae on his hands, and would rather have it seem like someone took them out quickly and quietly. And the way he wanted his Spymaster to carry this out? With volucrae, one of the deadliest poisons that had been discovered, and hidden.

“A single vial would cost a fortune, Rhys.”

He said, watching his High Lord closely. The poison cost a fortune for many reasons, as it had no scent, no taste, and didn’t cause any discoloration or effects to what you planted it in. It worked quickly, as well. Within minutes of consuming it, your body would start to shut down, and you would slip into death before you could even register what was happening. The only reason it was so rare was because the way to attain it was deadly.

“I’ve already done the math, you need one and a half vials to thoroughly poison their food supply.”

Rhys replied, his expression holding a look that said Azriel was not getting out of this, no matter what happened.

“Where would that even sell in this Court?”

He asked, though a part of him already knew the answer. The most wicked things were sold within the most hateful and wicked environment, which in this Court, was most likely..

“Hewn City.”

That didn’t surprise him, but what Rhys then said next had him very skeptical about anyone wielding the poison, let alone willing to sell it.

“There’s a bakery not too far from that brothel we visited once, a bit up the street and to the left. You’ll know it when you see it. When you get inside, tell the woman at the counter that you’re looking for a mulberry pie, but you’d like to adjust the flavoring.”

Rhys said, that annoying smirk on his face that said he knew he was right, that this would work, and that he could already see Az’s begrudgingly thankful look.

“Fine.”

Azriel said with a huff. Before he could even mention how he would pay for it, Rhys handed him a pouch of gold coins.

“Our secret.”

He said, before going back to the paperwork that sat in stacks in his office.

The shadowsinger stalked off, gathering his things before he went off to the balcony, and took off, headed to one of the places he’d prefer never having to look at again. Hewn City.

*********************************************************

It was business as usual for you; baking up the pies and assisting your coworkers, who were only family if not the closest of family friends, as they worked the shop alongside you.

Not too many customers today, which wasn’t unusual, as Hewn City wasn’t exactly the most profitable place to put a bakery. The citizens here were exactly how they’d been her entire life, harsh, bitter, and hateful to the very end, and their taste in pastries reflected that so clearly it was almost funny.

However, a face she recognized walked in while she had taken a break from kneading dough to work the register. She could easily spot the shadows that shrouded his being and trailed behind and onto him in the shop. The shadowsinger, otherwise known as the Spymaster of Night Court.

She’d heard plenty of rumors about him, most, if not all being terrible awful things, but a customer was a customer, and judging by the fact that she assumed he wasn’t here for baked goods, a potential client was a potential client, no matter who they were.

“Welcome to Baked Goods, how can I help you today?”

You asked the man, with your customer voice and smile being worn. He seemed to scan over you for a moment, his gaze sharp and piercing, and intimidating, before he spoke.

“I’d like a mulberry pie, but I would like to adjust the flavoring.”

His dark, smooth voice replied. He hadn’t even glanced at the menu. We didn’t serve mulberry pie. That was your confirmation that he knew what he wanted and for the right price, he could get it.

“Sure, I can get that for you. What kind of flavoring are you looking for? Weaker tasting, smelling, we could even adjust how it looks if you’d like it.” Do you want it to be noticeable?

“The weakest flavoring you can find.” No.

This Spymaster caught onto the game fast, you’d admit. Then again, the High Lord had probably told him of it, as he occasionally came by for his favorite mulberry pie, just to keep you in order, as some of the local females looking to break free of their forced marriages also happened to like mulberry pie.

“I can take you back for you to see our selection if you’d like?” Do you want to see our collection and pick one out?

“Yes.” I’ll pick it.

And so, you led him around the counter and to the back of the bakery, and as you opened one of the cabinets that was empty, with remnants of flour in it. Reaching in, and using your hands to unlock a mechanism in the back of the wooden cabinet, the back of it came off and swung open like a door.

You walked inside, and he followed. It was an old stone passageway, stairs leading down, down, down, thick with humidity, their every sound echoing due to the cave system at the bottom of it.

After minutes of walking, they reached the bottom. It had shelves full of vials and bottles of all sorts of poisons, all undiluted and in any sort of form. He studied the wall a minute and then gestured to one of them. It was a bottle you hadn’t dared to sell in all the years you’d owned it. Hell, you had almost grown attached to the thing, like a little friend, always there, lurking and waiting inside the dark tunnels of this place.

“Volucrae?”

You asked him, studying him with suspicion and intrigue in your gaze. What could he possibly need that poison for? Sure, he was a Spymaster and a honed killer, but she wouldn’t give that away easily.

He gave a little nod, holding out a heavy pouch of pure gold coins. You took it, opened it, and counted the amount. It was more than enough, you would admit. Not looking too happy about it, you gave him the amount for his money, one full vial, and about one half.

And then you both walked out, gave him a cookie as a parting gift, and he was gone, just like that.

*********************************************************

Azriel walked out of that ‘bakery’, wondering how Rhys knew about it, and why the hell he hadn’t shut it down yet. They were illegally selling poisons, possibly even trafficking them and buying them from someone. Problems for later, he reminded himself as he took a bite of the cookie he’d been given by the girl as he walked out.

The vials of valucrae were safely secured within a pocket, the glass was reinforced. Whoever had bottled it must’ve known exactly how deadly it was.

He had no idea how that girl or her shop had gotten her hands on that. To even make the poison was incredibly dangerous, first having to take down one of the ancient, cunning beasts that lived in the darkness of the Illyrian Steppes, using their blood and drying it, turning it into a fine powder, and storing it.

Nonetheless, he had a mission to get done.

And so, with a flap of his wings, his shadows trailing behind him, he set off for what had been Hybern’s lands. The mission was simple.

The lands were still scorched and covered in a certain heavy feeling, the remnants of the war and the mass destruction and carnage that had followed. The halflings were gathered in the center of the lands. They seemed to have congregated together in a group of around 25, having tents and temporary homes, a large campfire in the center, and one tent that his shadows whispered to him that held the food.

He crept up, opening the vials with a silent pop, and slipped into the tent. They all seemed to be asleep at this point. And with a flick and movement of his wrist, the poison was sprinkled into their daily rations, and after smoothing it into the wet meat. The flakes turned transparent as they got wet and just like that, they weren’t even noticeable anymore.

Cleaning his hands off religiously, and scrubbing it off of his hands, he then took off silently into the night, his large, leathery wings flapping as he went back home, to Velaris.

*********************************************************

The shadowsinger had been visiting more than usual over the past few months, you realized, as you saw him coming into the shop again, another order of mulberry pie with adjusted flavoring, and you led him down to the ‘basement’ again.

The air of the stone passageway felt different this time, tense and dripping with something other than humidity.

The little drips that echoed through the stairway and the sounds of their feet hitting the stone were the only ones. Neither spoke. They reached the bottom eventually, where the familiar shelves with vials and bottles waited.

“What’ll it be this time, Azriel?”

You asked, one brow raised as you watched him. He was undeniably attractive, pretty, almost. His lean and muscular body, his golden hazel eyes, or his short, almost boyish style of black hair. His large, powerful wings, or the scarred hands that you had wondered many times what had happened, but never dared to ask.

He opened his mouth to speak, and that was when the entire world exploded.

*********************************************************

Fire licking up his face and body was the first thing he processed, the second was Kier’s men at the top of the stairway, blood already dripping from their blades, the wooden cabinet’s secret door splintered into pieces and shoved open. His shadows writhed in agony.

With a glance towards the girl, he quickly realized that she didn’t seem surprised, or particularly shocked, but looked like a little bit of her died with every drip of the blood from the men’s swords onto the ground. She was very close with her coworkers, he had observed that immediately. They had been a team and some legitimate family that were just bakers working here.

“Follow me.”

She said, and before he could even draw Truth-Teller, she grabbed his arm and began running, dragging him at first, then leading him through the convoluted cave tunnels that were behind the bottom of the stairwell. She ran with a practiced ease through these caves, as if she’d done it many times before. As if she’d practiced running as if she’d known that Kier’s soldiers had been lurking around the corners of her shop and watching every customer a little too closely to just be a coincidence.

He didn’t have time to think about it as he heard some of the soldiers close behind. Some had gotten lost in the tunnels due to her winding through them.

Her voice didn’t waver, it was firm. Sad, but recognizing that this wasn’t the moment to grieve.

The tunnels winded down and up until even he could barely keep track of them, despite his centuries of practice memorizing the layouts of the most complicated structures. They soon surfaced on the edge of Hewn City, and without even thinking of the potential consequences of his actions, the political repercussions that they could cause, he grabbed her, scooped her up, and took off.

*********************************************************

At least the adrenaline had kept her from thinking of the loss when you’d been running. Here, during this terrifying flight, you got plenty of time to think all about your family members who had been in that shop.

Your cousins, both willing to help just to have a job and get paid in the awful economy of Hewn City. Your uncle, just happy to be involved in the family, and also a male who hadn’t ever been able to explore his passion for baking, always told it wasn’t masculine. Or your sweet little niece, who had absolutely no idea what was happening at all, but was generally just happy to be there and spend time. Not to mention how many pastries the girl had snuck off of the shelves.

All gone.

You had seen the blood dripping off of that steel. You knew that Kier had been watching your shop a little while more than usual, and you’d practiced escape routes and alarm systems with the family and workers, but it had all fallen apart. They had been waiting for Azriel to arrive, you were sure of it.

You couldn’t stop the tears that welled up and fell as you were curled up against the shadowsinger’s chest while he flew, making her stomach churn. His shadows, cool and soothing against your skin, seemed to almost wipe your tears away, attempting to comfort you the best they could.

The colorful city of light came into view, Velaris, the city of starlight, she’d been told. It was beautiful, she’d admit. It felt like it was spitting in her face, taunting and mocking her for what her family hadn’t had the chance to see, and now wouldn’t ever get the chance to see. Azriel went to a specific house overlooking a large river, The Sidra, his shadows whispered to you, their voices thin and quiet, barely more than a whisper. It seemed to be a townhouse, a beautiful one at that, he arrived at.

*********************************************************

Azriel landed, and slowly set you on your feet. You looked very unsteady and probably about to throw up. That was a common reaction from someone’s first time flying, assuming it was your first flight ever. He couldn’t imagine any other male flying you around, knowing it would never happen, but even the thought of it sent a little pang of jealousy that he knew wasn’t appropriate through his mind.

“Rhys’ and Feyre’s home. You’ll be staying here.”

He said simply, his voice firm but not empathetic. The tears had mostly stopped, but as soon as he guided the female inside, only to meet a concerned and curious Rhys sitting on the couch with Feyre, who looked equally confused, it started back up again.

She managed to give a basic explanation between tears, and he filled in any details Rhys asked for that she couldn’t or wouldn’t provide.

“You can stay here until we find a solution, and definitely until things calm down. I’ll…talk to Kier.”

Rhys reassured her, eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed Azriel’s hand around the female’s waist. He shared a glance with Feyre, a little too long for his comfort, before giving Azriel a nod. He was to take the poor thing to a room, and most likely console her. He wasn’t too great at the latter, he thought.

His mission was complete, but at what cost?

*********************************************************

You had met the High Lord before, but never his Inner Circle other than Azriel. He led her to a spare bedroom in the townhouse, leading her inside and closing the door behind her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He asked. His voice was calm and deep as it had always been, but filled with a sort of sorrow that told you he’d lost many people close to him as well. He knew your pain.

“I don’t know, I just…they’d still be here if I hadn’t..”

You stammered out, before words turned into choked sobs, and choked sobs turned into him sitting beside her on the bed as you wept into his chest. His warm, scarred hands rubbing your back soothingly as you cried.

You cried until you couldn’t anymore until the loss consumed her so wholly that it was a black pit you couldn’t crawl out of.

“It’s not your fault. Kier gave the order to murder them, not you.”

An order he would make Kier pay for, even if he got himself killed in the process.

“Take a bath. It’ll help.”

He said, and you knew he was right. A bath might help. You managed to get up and stumble over to the bathroom, starting a warm bath, and peeling off your clothing before settling into the water. You barely managed to rub some shampoo into your hair before scrubbing it back out.

You sat in that tub for a while, sitting and thinking, reminiscing about your family, grieving all you could for them. Maybe a little too long. Before you knew it, you had slipped into unconsciousness.

*********************************************************

Azriel had waited for almost two hours for you to come out of the tub now. He would admit that he felt more than a little creepy just waiting, but he felt it was necessary, as something deeply instilled in him told him to stay, and to wait to make sure you were okay.

He didn’t know when he’d suddenly become so protective over you, it had crept up on him until he hadn’t even realized how much he wanted to shred Kier’s men to pieces for upsetting you and threatening you.

When you hadn’t come out and almost two hours and thirty minutes had passed, he cracked open the bathroom door, only to find you fully asleep and naked in the bathtub. It felt wrong, looking at you while vulnerable, and so he closed his eyes and let his shadows guide him as they helped pick you up.

The shadows, doing what he willed, dried you off, before slipping some clothes on you that were fresh spares. He laid you in the bed, tucking you in.

He stayed there longer than he’d like to admit, watching you peacefully sleep, and for some odd reason, his shadows wouldn’t let him leave the room. They tugged him to a nearby armchair, and using the shadows as an excuse, he fell asleep a few hours later while watching over you.

The shadows seemed to not want to leave your side.

Almost as if they knew something he didn’t.

Part 2

#acotar fandom #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #light angst #family death mention #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel comfort #comfort #light fluff #angst #might make a part 2 if this goes well

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dj-spiderman · 2 years ago

Note

miggy getting a little delulu during sex and desperately tries to breed reader despite knowing that it’s not possible

DOTING DADDY SPIDERS

- Miguel O’Hara x M!reader

- Genre: NSFW (MDNI)

- Warnings: Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Breeding kink, Mating, Selfish needs, Daddy/mommy Kink, A/B/O taken into mind but not specified, dominant!Miguel, feminization despite AMAB!reader, aftercare

- Synopsis: Miguel has his heat and uses you to try and get rid of it; all while groaning and grunting about how he’s going to fill you full of his spiderlings.

- A/N: Title is based off an article I came across because I thought it was fucking hilarious. And furthermore, this is my first time writing NSFW.

You had gotten home, or in this case Miguel’s dimension, later than usual after working overtime. You hadn’t been keeping track of the days recently, suppose that’s why you were surprised to find all lights off within the house and two glowing red eyes tracking your movements.

Miguel was in his heat.

You slow your body, maintaining eye contact with spider-halfling. “Can I at least get changed..?” You mumble, only to yelp as he pounces.

He has you pinned on your stomach, growling and whining beside your ear. His hot breath fanning against your face as he moves lower to nuzzle into your neck. His pelvis grinding against your backside, growing frustrated with the lack of entry due to your clothes.

Fed up, he straddles you and wastes no time of tearing your clothes off. Leaving you nude in a pile of your clothes as he yet again mounts onto your body. You’re not necessarily scared, nor unwilling of this, but you’re complaining about your clothes and he’s not having it.

His fangs scrape against your neck, and you’re shuddering with the familiar feeling. “Be good for papi and quiet down.” You do as he says, whining softly as his length slips into your hole without prep, but it doesn’t stop him.

He’s already thrusting without remorse, pinning you beneath him as he grunts and huffs. “Gonna.. gonna make you round with my eggs.. my spiderlings…” he snarls, one hand wrapping around your throat and the other lifting a leg of yours up.

You’re babbling and agreeing, tears of bliss rolling down your flushed cheeks. His fingers find their way into your mouth, whispering tauntingly about having your ‘pretty mouth put to use’.

His fingers eventually slip free, his hand moving to wrap around your cock, starting up a slow pace. “I heard a theory that female orgasm increases chance of pregnancy…” he huffs, nipping at your ear as his harsh thrusts continue.

He’s lost far into his primal needs and instincts, desperate to breed his mate. Lifting your hips up to angle deeper, earning squeals and moans from your loose mouth.

“Buen Chico… you’ll be such a good mami..” he groans, voice a low rasp. Your body trapped beneath his own, leaving you desperate for more.

You’re not sure how many times you’ve climaxed, nor do you care. Blinded by the pleasure as he continues pounding into your body desperately. “So good… s’tight..”

You know he’s getting closer with the way he slurs and holds you tighter, growing slower yet harsher with his thrusts before holding your head down and bottom up, pushing as far as he could and releasing a hot spillage of his seed within your needy hole.

He stays there, refusing to pull as he lies you both down slowly. “Such a good job, mami… took me so well..” he coos softly, stroking back your hair and kissing away your tears.

It takes at least fifteen to twenty minutes before he slips loose, picking up your exhausted body and heading for the washroom. He sets you down in the tub, starting up a warm bath and washing you.

“Gonna have such a healthy cluster.. make a big nest…” he rambles on and on, kissing your forehead as he dries you off and carries you back to your shared bedroom.

Rather than dress you in your own clothes, he has you wear his, and even then it’s some boxers and a large oversized sweatshirt. Refusing to let you sleep in the bed, instead guiding you to what seems to be a large hammock like web. Something he must have made while waiting for your return.

He sets you down in the sticky, yet surprisingly comfortable, web, seemingly waiting for your opinion. “Such a nice web, Miggy…” you hoarsely coo, rubbing his cheek as he purrs contently.

“You should sleep.. I’ll watch over you.” He huffs, crawling up to sit by your head, holding you close as you drift asleep.

Besides, if he was going to keep up his mating all week, he should act as a responsible and protective mate to prove he was a good father. After all, you’d be carrying his spiderlings.

#miguel o’hara x male reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #spiderverse x male reader #miguel o’hara #miguel ohara #astv

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yanderecrazysie · 9 months ago

Text

Twisted Zoo Ending One: Queen of the Jungle

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: For Tumblr, the mature version of the endings (the afterendings) will begin sometime after I finish all the normal endings.

Note 2: Sorry this is short, I wasn't sure how to write this one lol.

In each hand you carried a bucket, filled to the brim with steaks. It was kind of nostalgic of your first time in the exhibit. It was hard to believe it wasn’t that long ago.

You hummed to yourself as you approached the lions’ area. You furrowed your brow- the rocks had been rearranged in nearly a complete circle, with just enough room for you to walk inside and approach the king of the jungle’s sunning rock.

“Hey, Leona!” you called out to the lion halfling lazily regarding you from his perch, “Dinner time!”

The pride’s leader leapt down from his resting spot and casually approached you, his movements lazy yet filled with grace. His eyes, intelligent and painfully sharp, never left you as you entered the circle of rocks.

The other lions were nowhere to be found. Confused, you searched for them in the shade of the rocks, but there was no one there.

As you reached the middle of the circle, something occurred to you. The usually-cackling hyenas were unusually quiet. The hairs on your arms stood on end. Something’s wrong.

You turned to face the circle’s exit and, within an instant, strong arms had wrapped around your stomach, pulling you back against a solid chest. You gasped and dropped both buckets as you struggled to break free. The grip did not budge no matter how hard you fought.

“Shhh, easy there, herbivore,” a voice murmured in your ear, low and gravely and filled with amusement.

Your heart jumped out of your chest. It was Leona who had spoken, but it wasn’t the Leona you knew. It was the Leona whose gaze had started to linger too long for your liking. The Leona who had always seemed too much like a predator than a human.

But he wasn’t alone.

Now facing the circle’s gap, you saw Ruggie, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he blocked your only exit.

“Gotcha!” Ruggie snickered, “Took you long enough.”

“What… what are you doing?!” you cried, trying to twist out of Leona’s grasp, making no progress whatsoever on escaping.

Leona’s breath was hot against your neck, “You spend too much time with those other exhibits,” he spat out the word like it was a slur, “You must pay more attention to us.”

Ruggie snickered again and leaned casually against the towering rocks, his eyes tracking every movement you made, “You ignore us. Not fair, y’know? You must remember your real favorites.”

Panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to stay calm, “This isn’t funny- let me go.”

Leona chuckled, the sound vibrating through your back, “We’re not joking, herbivore. You play with fire, you get burnt. We don’t like to share.”

“Share?” you echoed, voice shaky with fear and confusion, “What do you-”

“You’re ours,” Leona interrupted sternly, “You have always been ours.”

Ruggie pushed off the rock and sauntered over, his sharp-canined grin widening as he got closer, “You should have seen this coming. We dropped hints. You’re just too silly to notice.”

Leona’s nose brushed against your hair, inhaling deeply, “We’re tired of waiting around. You stay here now.”

You began to thrash desperately in his hold, but he held you effortlessly, like a mouse in a cat’s jaws.

“You’ll love it here!” Ruggie cooed, “No more zoo. No more stress. Just you, us, and the savannah. We will keep you cool. It’s perfect.”

The reality of the situation hit you all at once. They weren’t going to let you leave. They were deadly serious. The playful smile Ruggie wore was just a mask for the possession lurking beneath.

It was too much for you, and as hopelessness began to sink in, you began to cry, “Please just let me go, we can forget this ever happ-”

“You will not leave,” Leona growled, “You are our mate. And if anyone tries to take you away…”

You gulped at the insinuation.

Ruggie moved closer and brushed a stray tear from your cheek, “Don’t cry. We take good care of you, promise. You won’t worry ever again.”

The vast savannah, once one of your favorite parts of the zoo, now felt like a huge, hot cage.

You were no longer a researcher to them. That much was clear.

And there was no escape from the lion’s den.

#yandere #yandere x reader #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #yandere leona #yandere ruggie

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aviradasa · 5 months ago

Note

Might I request something with the lost boys? (It can be together or separate- I’ve read a good bit of stuff where it’s poly, but you 100% don’t have to)

how would they react to a reader that is also a vampire, like reader is part of their coven, and when they go out to hunt reader just goes FERAL and ends up covered in the victims blood?😅

Heyy sorry this took forever this is my first oneahot for them and i was struggling to write the boys personalitys a little, so this is very short, sweet and not very detailed at the moment but once i get into this my writing will improve for them just bear with me!

Thank you for leaving your request and here is

Poly! Lost boys x Vampire! Reader

Bloodlust of a halfling

The sun is just setting across the little California town of Santa Carla. To most folks, now's the time to wind down; to the young people, it's time to party, but for a couple of select groups, it's time for something even better...

“Paul, you throw one more goddamn bottle cap at me, I'm gonna jump over this sofa and bash your fuckin balls in!” I whip around in my spot, placing both hands on the back of the sofa as I shout the threat, staring him down as he teasingly holds one up, pretending to throw another one, before Dwayne comes up behind him, snatching the cap as Paul jumps up, to chase him.

Some of us were feeling a bit crazy tonight. But that's good. The adrenaline running through our undead bodies was something we lived for - and killed for.

Well, they killed for. I was one of the few halflings of the group. One kill and I'll never have to worry again. Only a fool would be willing to pass that up. It's okay star, and Michael will come around eventually.

“Alright, boys, you know what time it is! Lets get outta here.” We all hear David tell us; he stands by the entrance, ready to go with that evil little smile he gets.

Once he speaks, the others jump up. Whooping and hollering like usual. Marko comes over to me, and as I'm about to stand, he grabs my arms and yanks me from my seat as we both laugh. Once we all make our way outside, I hop on the back of Dwayne's bike.

Star Michael and Laddie stay behind for now. They just aren't ready; that's ok, though, cause the boys have deemed tonight mine, and I'm gonna prove them right.

We speed through the darkened brush before we exit onto one of the empty beaches. The sound of all of our shouts, laughs, and Hollars, plus the revving engines mixed together, sounds like the warning calls from a pack of coyotes or something.

Making our way onto the boardwalk, we park the bikes, and I already know what to do. Making my way towards the live show area I spot a group of douchie-looking drunk surf Nazis, our rival group

Perfect for a first kill.

You see my job was to be bait. Lure in some drunk,horny assholes away from the crowd so that we can all rush them fast without any escaping. Luckily, this was the easy part, and I have had a lot of practice at it.

I make my way over to an open spot that is easily noticeable by where they are standing. Swaying with the music as I begin to dance for a little while. Once I feel an eye on me, I twirl to face them with an inviting smile, gesturing for them to come over, almost like a witch casting a spell. At least that's what it seems like with how derpy and hypnotized these drunk fools look as they approach me.

Even their aura is crude and suffocating as they make their way over, surrounding me. There are only three, but it's still heavily uncomfortable. Lucky I need not fear. This will all be over soon.

Being bait was never a fun experience. But it's not like the boys can come out here and attract people to follow them to sketchy places.

Ok, well, they could. They just don't want to. But that's beside the point

Now that I have the attention of the group, I grab two of them by the wrists without a word, dragging them away from the crowd; the three of them follow without a thought as I lead them to the darkened beach and under the boardwalk. Letting go of them, I run a bit farther into the darkness under the dock with a laugh.

The surf nazis start to look a bit freaked, only taking a few more steps, looking at each other paranoid, before one of them raises their finger to point at the five pairs of glowing yellow eyes that appear from the darkness.

The surf nazis try to run, but it's already too late. The boys are on them, fast, cackling, and laughing as they take down two of them. Its up to me to kill the third,

My nerves are through the roof as I stand frozen for a moment, but then suddenly the scent of blood fills my senses and I'm on that surfer like a bat outta hell,

I fly up behind him as he begins to run, but he doesn't get far as I slam my feet into his spine; he falls face first into the rocky sand as my heels dig into his back, I'm quick to step off, though. I move to straddle his back, grabbing one of his arms and bending it backward in a way no human body should bend, He tries to scream, but before he can get anything out, I dig my claws into his throat, successfully ripping it out.

I stand up and flip his body over swiftly as I completely start tearing into his flesh. Clawing, biting, chewing, ripping, tearing, snapping. By the time I've finished, the mangled corpse is covered in blood. I sit over the body for a moment, catching my breath. I know I don't have to breathe, but it helps calm down a bit. I feel the blood clinging to my skin and clothing, making my hair stick to my face, and bloody sand and dirt cling to me like glue. It's pretty uncomfortable, but I don't care right now. The blood coursing through me is like a drug, And I feel my body getting stronger by the second. The power rushed through me.

It only lasts a moment, though, before a voice breaks me from my moment.

“ DAMN GIRL WHAT THE HELL!” I hear Paul exclaim with a cackle. My head shoots to look at him. My gaze flickers from him to the others, who now also look up from their meals with smirks, chuckles, and grins, and I can't help but just stare at them back in embarrassment for a moment before joining in on the chuckles. I don't know what exactly they find so amusing, but I might as well join in.

“ well somebody was hungry.” Marko teases as he looks from you to the body you've torn to pieces. You just roll your eyes at him as you reach behind you to grab a bit of flesh you missed the blood in

“That's one gnarly ass first kill. Good job.” Dwayne says, admiring the whole scene for a moment before giving you a thumbs up and going back to tearing the flesh off of his guy's arm.

Luckily, the boys decide not to tease much; they remember what it's like. How the first kills can feel on the body and mind, so they keep most of the joking to themselves for now. They will get you later, though, you best believe. But for now, they are gonna let your state mellow out.

David, on the other hand, doesn't mind the idea of teasing you right now.

He doesn't say much he just glances up mid-scalping the guy who Dwayne is pulling flesh from to admire your work a bit “ could have kept him alive a little longer and had more fun, going for the throat kills them too quickly in my opinion” he critiques giving you a cocky smile before he goes back to his business.

Once he turns his back, you look over at Paul as he begins to silently mock David, which you and him share a little childish giggle about before he and Marko finish off the corpse they shared. David and Dwayne finish a few minutes later. After feeding, we all throw the body into the ocean, Knowing the rest of the remnants will be washed away by morning due to the tide.

Then we leave. We try not to stick around too long after kills just in case someone hears the commotion or anything of the sort.

But As you all make your way to the bikes, which had been parked nearby, the obnoxious nature of the boys carries on. After kills, they are always pretty hyped, and after how crazy your first one was, they are even more amped up. Slinging their arms over your shoulders, and giving you hugs, Marko even ends up giving you a piggyback ride the rest of the way over

Once he lets me down, David grabs me and decides on his own accord that I'm gonna ride back with him. But hey, I'm not complaining. Once I get seated on the back of his bike, we set off, and for some reason, I'm just exhausted. I guess I wasted my energy tearing that guy up like an animal, but that's ok. I begin nodding off a bit on the ride back to the cave. I fight to try and stay awake but to no avail, so I eventually just rest my head against David's back, tightening my grip around his waist a bit so I don't fall off. The last thing I hear is his chuckle and the rumble of the bikes as I slip into a light sleep.

Finally, now that I'm truly one of them, I can rest. I was so worried before I fully turned and anxious, but now I am free. Free of the confines of a human body, and a human soul. Now I'm just me, and I'm immortal; better yet, I can be with my boys for eternity. Who could ask for more? I certainly couldn't. I've already been spoiled so.

#tlb #tlb x reader #tlb oneshot #tlb request #poly lost boys #poly lost boys x reader #the lost boys #lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #Aviradasa writes #Aviradasa 👽🖤

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