#dark romance prompts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bookished · 8 months

Text

( a collection of starters. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post 💛 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips

"The rain fell in heavy sheets, and I knew it was the day that would change everything."

"Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we'd made different choices?"

"You promised you'd never leave, and now you're telling me you have to go?"

"What's the one thing you've always wanted to do but haven't had the courage to try?"

"Why are you always pushing me away when all I want to do is help?"

"I never thought I'd see you here."

"We used to be so close. What happened to us?"

"Sometimes, I feel like I'm living someone else's life."

"Is it too late to start over?"

"I thought I'd lost you forever."

"The clock struck midnight, and with it, my life took an unexpected turn."

"The dusty, forgotten diary I found in the attic held secrets I never could have imagined."

"I can't believe you said that to them. Do you realize the impact of your words?"

"What do you want from me, after all this time?"

"You were always the one who got away."

"Why did you come back?"

"I've been keeping something from you, and I don't know how to tell you."

"Remember when we used to dream about the future together? What happened to those dreams?"

"You're not the person I thought you were."

"I thought I was doing the right thing, but now I'm not so sure."

"It's never too late to change, you know."

"Let's make a pact: no matter what happens, we'll always find our way back to each other."

"I've been searching for you my whole life, and now that I've found you, I don't know what to say."

"Why did you do it? Why did you betray us?"

"I never thought I'd see the day when you'd come back."

"You've changed so much since the last time I saw you."

"We used to be best friends. What happened between us?"

"I have a secret, and I need your help to keep it."

"Do you believe in second chances?"

"If you could go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?"

"I never thought I'd miss something so ordinary until it was gone."

"You were always the one who understood me, even when I couldn't understand myself."

"I can't keep pretending that everything is fine."

"Life has a funny way of bringing people back together, doesn't it?"

"I thought I knew who I was until I met you."

"What's the worst mistake you've ever made, and did you ever make amends for it?"

"We're in this together, no matter what."

"You're the only one who knows the real me."

"I never thought I'd say this, but I need your advice."

"Why do you always push people away when they try to get close to you?"

"Sometimes, the hardest part is forgiving yourself."

"No matter where life takes us, I hope we'll always have this moment."

818 notes · View notes

cilil · 2 months

Text

AN: A gift for the wonderful @merilles. Please check out the beautiful art for this ship here and here! I always feel so very honored when I get to write other people's OCs ♡

dark romance prompts

♡ prompt: despair | Dúvain (OC) x Mairon/Sauron ♡ synopsis: after having survived the dungeons of Barad-dûr, Dúvains finds herself face to face with the dark lord. what does he want from her? ♡ warnings: captive/captor dynamic, power imbalance ♡ short oneshot (~900 words)

The first thing Dúvain saw when she awoke was the gaze of honey-golden eyes, bright and warm like sunshine. They appeared to illuminate the ethereal, perfect face hovering above her with an otherworldly glow, and she was met with a smile a little too sweet and teeth just slightly too sharp to belong to a mortal man.

The first thing she smelled was the subtle, soothing scent of tea and a cosy fireplace, with only the slightest hint of flame and ash; a scent that one hardly ever noticed until it was gone, a scent that spoke of home.

The first thing she felt was a hand on her cheek and another on top of hers, long fingers searching, reaching, intertwining with hers like serpents of smooth skin and hard bone.

"Dúvain..."

That voice. The loveliest Dúvain had ever heard, soft and melodious, surpassing even the most famed minstrels of Númenor. There was a subtle lilt to it as if it was singing to her, slowly coaxing her out of slumber.

"Dúvain..."

She blinked. It felt as though her mind had been shattered into tiny shards and fragments of memories and sensations, yet she knew she recognised this man – this miraculous being.

It's...

Annatar.

No. No. It's –

Tar-Mairon.

Dúvain squeezed her eyes shut. No. These thoughts, these names, they came with such certainty and precision that they felt out of place, as if someone was speaking inside her mind with her own voice.

Yet now that she was free from that alluring golden gaze, clarity suddenly returned to her.

It's... the enemy. It's Sauron.

She sat up abruptly, eyes wide in panic, and freed her hand, scooting backwards until her shoulders met the headboard of the bed she had been sleeping on.

Liar. Torturer. Deceiver. Murderer.

Dúvain raised her hands, only to realise that her sword was gone – had been gone for a long time. They had taken it from her, as well as any other blade or sharp piece of steel she could have used to defend herself.

If he can even be hurt by such things. Either way, her own flesh and bone was all that remained; though she knew already that she was weakened and had little hope of resisting whatever he planned to do to her.

Would it be worse than the dungeons of Barad-dûr? Under normal circumstances she would doubt it, but the tales of the dark lord's bottomless malice and cruelty made her think otherwise.

Sauron made no move to stop or apprehend her. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands still resting on the sheets where Dúvain had withdrawn from his touch, and he seemed amused rather than angered by her reaction.

"You are awake," he noted, speaking in the same lilting sing-song voice he had used to talk to her in her sleep. "Have you slept well?"

The nonchalance of his demeanour felt like mockery.

Dúvain didn't deign to answer and clenched her fists. Knuckles white, nails biting into her skin, she forced herself not to tremble. Sauron was the kind of creature that could sense fear, she knew instinctively.

Could she escape? If not from his dungeon, then maybe from whichever chambers he had brought her to? Nervously, her eyes roamed her surroundings. Even if she could somehow outrun a Maia, guards would be everywhere, and she had no idea where she was, not to mention the battlements, the stairs, the gates –

Sauron was suddenly in front of her again, now kneeling on the bed. Dúvain flinched; she was certain that she hadn't looked away for even a split second, yet somehow he had still managed to move faster than her eyes could see.

So much for getting away from him...

His hands reached for her again, and she had nowhere to go. Her gaze fell upon a single golden ring adorning his finger, gleaming proudly and thrumming with strange magic and powers she did not understand.

"No..."

Dúvain didn't want to be touched. Not by Orcs, not by other Men, most certainly not by the dark lord –

And yet, his hands were warm, and she was cold, so cold.

Her breath quickened and her heart raced, like a trapped bird fluttering in its cage.

"Kill me," she challenged.

I don't want to die.

But Dúvain would be brave, like a knight of Númenor should be.

Sauron merely smiled. "You don't truly want me to."

Had he read her mind or was he able to see past her facade so easily? He had both hands on her cheeks now, holding her head in a gentle yet inescapable grip, and was examining her panicked expression like an amusing curiosity.

"My dear Dúvain." The subtle song was back, incessant and unrelenting as if he intended to serenade her into submission. "There is no need for such antics. You have already proven your strength to me, have you not?"

His smile was so sweet that it sickened her to her core, but Dúvain found herself unable to look away or close her eyes.

"You have indeed, and I wish to reward you for it."

"I don't want what you offer. I choose death over your treacherous gifts," Dúvain mumbled, though it was becoming harder and harder to focus on her words.

Sauron laughed lightly, and despite the gentle melody of his voice, there was an edge of cruelty to the otherwise pleasant sound.

"You fear death as all mortals do, Dúvain. Why don't you instead ask me for something that you truly desire – such as deliverance from its grasp?"

Thanks for reading!

taglist: @angbangbaby @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to @singleteapot

#duvain #dúvain #tolkien oc #mairon #sauron #sauron x duvain #lotr #lord of the rings #silmarillion #silm fanfic #lotr fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #cílil writes #my writing #dark romance prompts

27 notes · View notes

furious-haste-of-malice · 2 months

Text

AN: I promised to write a little something for @sortumavaara a while ago, so here it is! Based on and inspired by this artwork.

dark romance prompts

♡ prompt: taboo & overstimulation (rare pair bingo) | Glorfindel x Erestor ♡ synopsis: Glorfindel wants - needs - Erestor and hatches a new plan to make it happen, even if it means breaking a few teeny tiny rules and taboos ♡ warnings: highly dub-con/non-con, aphrodisiacs, obsession, unhinged horny & delusional Glorfy ♡ short oneshot (~800 words)

The thought that he shouldn't do this had crossed Glorfindel's mind.

But the voice of reason had, in time, been drowned out by his desire, no, need to bed Erestor again, a feeling that had taken over his very mind and every waking thought.

It was perhaps, as Glorfindel had also considered, not entirely right to feel this way, yet such a notion again did little to dissuade him; in fact, he had always found it rather arousing to break rules and taboos.

And his favourite lover would enjoy it, he was certain.

Erestor's cheeks were flushed bright red and his breathing was heavy. An empty tea cup sat in front of him, nearly getting knocked over as he sluggishly attempted to prop himself up and rise from his chair.

"Glorfindel... not this again..."

He was slurring his words and sounded almost petulant, causing Glorfindel to smile, endeared by the display.

"Yes, beloved. I promised we would try again, didn't I?"

Instead of waiting for a response, he picked up the smaller ellon and carried him over to the bed to begin undoing his robes. Erestor mumbled a few words of weak protest, but Glorfindel opted to stroke the growing bulge between his legs to soothe him.

"I know it's not easy," he said softly. "After you were so tense last time, I prepared this tea for you. It should make it easier for you to take me. And I'll be careful, I promise."

All Erestor managed was a groan while his remaining clothes were removed, and Glorfindel quickly discarded his own as well. Despite not having consumed the stimulating beverage himself, his cock was already hard as well, standing between his legs with the pride and poise expected from an accomplished warrior like himself.

Erestor gulped and tried to rise, but Glorfindel swiftly moved to sit behind him and gathered him in his arms.

"Let me show you how good it can feel when you're relaxed and ready," he cooed, grasping his lover's thighs to spread his legs wide open.

Two fingers made their way in-between before Erestor could attempt to close them and gently prodded his entrance. Glorfindel found that he was indeed wet, as was the intended effect of the concoction he had slipped into his tea, yet not quite leaking. The amount of lubrication might still be insufficient to fit his entire length inside that tight little hole, but he was certainly willing to try.

Placing his hands on the underside of his thighs, he lifted the smaller ellon up to place him on his lap and align his cock with his entrance, and Erestor squirmed in his grasp.

"No, please," he protested weakly. "Please, my lord. I-I can't. And I promise I won't tell anyone – ah-!"

Glorfindel attempted to shush him with a kiss, but his lips brushed against his cheek instead as Erestor turned his head to the side. His breath came in heavy gasps upon being breached, taking the warrior's large cock inch by inch.

"Ssshhhh. You're doing so much better already," Glorfindel praised, holding him in place when he felt resistance. "Look, you managed to take half of me this time!"

"Stop – ngh – please... ah..." Erestor tried once more, but his pleas were soon reduced to small moans and gasps as Glorfindel began to move inside him.

"We'll up the dosage next time," he reassured him, whispering in his ear. "Then it'll feel even better and you'll be able to take all of me. Doesn't that sound good?"

He received no reply, but that suited him just fine. With every thrust, his world shrank more and more until it was reduced to the wonderful feeling of hot, wet tightness around his cock, exactly like he had imagined it. Glorfindel barely noticed that Erestor came soon after, and it didn't deter him either; he was simply too sweet when he tried and failed to beg for reprieve and could do nothing except take his cock over and over and over again.

He loves it, he reminded himself, and one day he'll admit it too.

Letting out the occasional indulgent moan to inform his lover of his boundless enjoyment, Glorfindel continued to bounce him on his lap and fuck him open until he'd had his fill.

"You always feel so wonderful, Erestor," he breathed when he released inside him, accentuating his words with a gentle, almost chaste kiss on his cheek.

Erestor was silent, and his chest was heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. Glorfindel placed him on the bed and lay down as well, admiring him.

"Do you even know how beautiful you are? How cute and precious and delicious?" he continued and leaned down to pepper his face with more kisses. "I can never resist you, beloved..."

Thanks for reading!

#glorfindel #laurefindele #erestor #glorfindel x erestor #glorestor #lotr #lord of the rings #lotr fanfic #silmarillion #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #cílil writes #my writing #smut #dark romance prompts #tw noncon #cw noncon #dead dove do not eat

23 notes · View notes

i-did-not-mean-to · 2 months

Text

Dream and Fantasy & Handholding - Thingol x Finwë

Dear @the-red-butterfly, my friend, my partner in pairing crime...I dedicate this abomination to you!

This is further proof that I have no OCs, they're just knock-off, 2 penny depictions of people I know and love.

I give you...Old, decrepit men! Have fun!

Words: 1 065

Characters: Thingol x Finwë

Warnings: Geriatric grouches, barely veiled OCs, pudding, hint of bittersweet, innuendo to sex in the winter of life...

The middle-aged, chain-smoking nurse, lovingly called L at work, walked into the “quiet room” briskly, her eyes sweeping mercilessly across the softly bobbing ocean of hairless pates in search of the two most contrary residents of the retirement home.

After lunch, the inhabitants of the renowned facility came here to have a little chat before inevitably nodding off for their daily afternoon nap. Evidently, they could not be left alone—lest they choke on their own tongues or fall out of their ergonomic, cushioned chairs to their demise—so she knew that her favourite co-worker couldn’t be too far.

“Abril?” she called softly, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as soon as her cheery young colleague appeared with a tray full of tiny pudding cups.

“Yes?” the youthful woman chirped in her melodious, soothing voice that had earned her the privilege of handing out gelatinous treats rather than wrestling wayward doters back into their rooms.

“Where are the two pests? Are they in time-out again?” the older nurse asked gruffly.

“Oh, leave them be. They really are so sweet, aren’t they? And they’re such great friends too,” Abril protested in a hushed tone, quick as ever to defend their resident troublemakers.

“They’re more than friends,” the other retorted not without a hint of humour. “I’m pretty sure that what they do beneath the table when playing bridge goes beyond your usual run-of-the-mill cheating, if you know what I mean…”

“You’re filthy,” Abril complained, balancing her tray on her shapely hip to gesticulate expressively, thus leaving no doubt as to her mild disapproval. “They’re just old men! And they’re so lonely!”

Remembering her colleague’s initial inquiry, she frowned, her gorgeous face the very picture of doleful commiseration.

“The holidays are coming up, and Thingol had a bad dream about…”

They nodded in wordless agreement. It was a well-known fact that Thingol had fathered but a single girl-child who had promptly decided to move with her strange husband to some remote spot at the end of the world.

Nobody here had ever laid eyes on the woman, but they’d all seen pictures of Lúthien whose beauty was, as Thingol never tired of repeating, paralleled only by the pulchritude of his wife who had chosen not to follow him into his assisted living arrangements.

As far as L could remember, the old curmudgeon had always shared his room, board games, and pudding with a similarly distraught old man who seemed cursed by the very opposite problem.

Indeed, Finwë had one too many descendants. Having been married twice, he’d fathered one irascible son with his first wife as well as two sons and two daughters with his second who had, in turn, brought forth a whole slew of legitimate grandchildren and great-grandchildren, as well as a few more obscure scions claimed through strange patchwork-family situations.

The chaos these complex interpersonal relationships—ranging from outright, murderous loathing to deepfelt adoration—between the different members of that sprawling family tree bred was indubitably enough to drive any wretched bugger mad.

This was even more severe for poor Finwë because Thingol, his partner in geriatric crime, didn’t exactly get along well with his various kinspeople.

It was a surprisingly tense and fraught situation, a riveting drama playing out against the calming, beige background of an idyllic nursing home.

“Finwë took him to their room. Be a dear and take them their pudding; they love it so!” Abril said, jerking her chin at the tray encouragingly.

“Sure thing,” L sighed. “We wouldn’t want them to go raiding one of the other peaceful old souls. They’re owed pudding, and pudding they shall have!”

Abril’s eyebrows twitched, but she was too polite to ever laugh at a badly executed impression of her beloved favourites openly. “Just take them their treat—they’ve been very good today. No forks were thrown, and Ingwë was so unfazed by them that he didn’t even try to scoot across the room with his chair!”

Resigned to her fate, the cantankerous caretaker took the proffered desserts and trudged out of the room.

Neither one of the two old sourpusses could be heard from outside their chamber, and she took a deep, steadying breath.

As she was alone and nobody was around to witness the slip of her mask of dispassionate professionalism, she leaned her puckered brow against the smooth wood in a silent admission of reluctant sympathy.

Between Thingol’s loneliness and Finwë’s overabundance of ranting and raving offspring, they were a much put-upon pair who would not know a moment of peace before the last deliverance was granted to their unrestful souls.

Steeling herself, L pushed open the door slowly and, at once, had to bite back a sigh.

They sat, hand in hand, in their armchairs by the window, looking inward onto their dreams and fantasies rather than observing the squirrels frolicking across the front lawn.

One was never sure whether they were really asleep, and L slipped into the room cautiously, knowing only too well with what startling abruptness old men could shake themselves awake as if afraid of the long sleep that would not release them ever again.

At this moment, though, their faces—muted echoes of a faded beauty that certainly had been galvanising and terrifying to behold—were serene and relaxed, and their fingers were intertwined in a knot of papery skin and gnarled bone.

Against her better knowledge, L found that there was a touching, delicate sweetness in this ephemeral semblance of tranquillity they had caught like elusive butterflies in their clawed hands.

“Good old boys,” she whispered, prying open the small fridge in the corner and stowing the sweet treats away for later.

Yes, they were troublemakers, and their endless whining and complaining about children they had raised to be just as insufferable as them was exhausting, but L couldn’t deny that she understood Abril a little better now, watching them.

Thingol whimpered softly in his sleep, and—at once—Finwë’s creaking fingers tightened around his cold hand.

L fussed briefly with their blankets before leaving as inaudibly as she’d come.

“They’re all right,” she reassured Abril when her colleague walked briskly towards her, empty tray swinging inquisitively at her side. “They’re resting. Maybe, we could let them have dinner in their room tonight?”

“Ah!” the young woman cackled, her eyes bright with triumph. “They’ve at last won your heart!”

@fellowshipofthefics here's another cute one!

Have an abomination for your pleasure!

Lots of love and well-wishes!

-> Masterlist

#og post #Dark Romance Prompts #Sweet and Spicy Bingo #Sweet #Fanfiction #writing #IDNMT writes #jrrt #Tolkien fanfiction #Dream and Fantasy #Handholding #Fingol #Thingol #Finwë #old men #in an old people home #pudding #just idiocy

14 notes · View notes

flutterbysnowflakes · 1 month

Text

Vipers And Dragons

PART ONE

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

Chapter I

The titanium doors hissed open, revealing a scene bathed in the cold, blue glow of a cityscape at night. Park Jimin, a devil sculpted from moonlight and shadows, sat behind his obsidian desk, a smirk playing on his lips. He knew the effect his penthouse office had on rivals, the sheer height offering a metaphorical chokehold on the city, and on them.

Y/n, head of the Viper Syndicate, strode in, her every step an accusation. Tonight's truce was a bitter pill to swallow, even if the mission at stake was the biggest arms deal the underworld had seen in decades.

"You wanted to see me, Park," she said, her voice as sharp as the stiletto glinting on her hip. There was no greeting, no pretense of civility. It was a declaration, a reminder that their animosity was a living thing, a predator coiled and ready to strike.

Jimin leaned back in his chair, the city lights seeming to dance behind him, a stark contrast to the steely glint in his eyes. "Ah, Y/n. Ever the picture of grace." His amusement grated on her. "Let's not waste time with pleasantries we both despise. The intel's clear. The Falcones are making their move on the shipment."

"And you think I wouldn't know that?" Her voice was a low growl, the defiance a second skin. "We both have moles in their nest."

"True," Jimin conceded, his smile turning predatory, the amusement replaced by a calculating glint. "But only one of us has access to this." He tapped a tablet screen, a holographic map of a sprawling industrial complex shimmering into existence.

Y/n eyed the map, her annoyance warring with a grudging respect. Jimin was a viper in his own right, ruthless and cunning. They were two sides of the same obsidian coin, forever locked in a dance of power. Yet, the thought of him having intel she didn't, a one-up in their twisted game, sent a jolt of competitive fire through her.

"So," she finally said, the word a concession forced from her throat, "what's your proposition, Jimin? A temporary ceasefire while we steal the toys?"

The corner of Jimin's lip lifted. "Precisely. Think of it as a business arrangement. We each take what we came for, then go back to our lovely little war."

The air crackled with unspoken tension. Working with Jimin was a dangerous gamble, a tango on a knife's edge. He was the wolf she knew she shouldn't trust, yet the promise of crippling the Falcones was too tempting to resist. It was a strategic alliance born of necessity, a fragile truce that could shatter at the slightest provocation.

Y/n met his gaze, her eyes a storm brewing in a sea of moonlight. "Fine," she spat, the word a concession laced with a bitter aftertaste. "But make no mistake, Park. This truce ends the second the dust settles."

Jimin's smile widened, an echo of the city lights behind him. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Viper."

A spark ignited in the air between them, a volatile mix of hatred and something far more dangerous - a grudging respect, a flicker of something that defied the animosity that bound them. This mission was a gamble in more ways than one, and as Y/n turned to leave, the weight of Jimin's gaze followed her, a promise of a storm to come, both on the battlefield and perhaps, just perhaps, within the dark chambers of their hearts.

The door hissed shut behind her, leaving Jimin alone in the opulent office. He swiveled in his chair, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors. A smile, both predatory and strangely intrigued, curved his lips. This heist wouldn't just be about crippling the Falcones; it would be a game of dominance played out against a backdrop of bullets and betrayal. And Y/n, his rival, his reluctant ally, was about to become a very interesting pawn.

#bts #bangtan #jimin #mafia au #enemies to lovers #slow burn #bts jimin #jimin x reader #dark romance prompts

11 notes · View notes

shylilbunny15 · 6 months

Text

Writing Prompts

Prompt 1: Villain x Hero

C.W. Aquaphobia, Thalassophobia, Suggestive, Violence, Angst, Blood.

Perhaps this was the answer! Villain thought to himself. Exhilaration was pumping throughout Villain's body. Giving him a true high. It was only an hour ago Villain was worried he wouldn't be able to go through with this.

"Are you ready to give me an answer"? Villain grinned, velvet and malice in his voice as he pulled Hero to the surface, hands still wrapped around her neck.

Hero gasped for air, trying to hold on to Villain's arm. Hero wasn't sure how much more she could take. She was freezing in the cold lake; any attempt to push villain from off of her would result in another episode of brutal blows to her body like the other 7 times proved. Coughing, shivering, bleeding all of this was driving her crazy, not to mention the constant close calls to drowning Villain was putting her through but, the cherry on top of this horrible cake of torture was the ringing in her ears. This ringing that she couldn't tell was from being doused in water until she couldn't breathe, or from Villain's beatings upon her figure. The ringing the made Hero lightheaded. The ringing that caused Hero to fight the acid conjuring in her throat. The ringing...the damn ringing that drove Hero to have this pounding headache- like having a cinder block broken upon your head. Hero knew she was running out of time. That whatever Villain was doing, she'd have to think of a counter before her mind left her incoherent.

"Well"? Villain pushed. "I'd like an answer; quite rude of you to ignore me". Grip tightening around Hero's neck, leading her to meet Villain's Gaze.

". . ." Panting and Shivers were all Villain got. "You know...it feels great. Seeing you in such a distraught state. I could get used to this. I'm sure you feel it as well. Adrenaline rushing through your veins.. doesn't seem to be doing much in your case".

An annoyed sigh escapes Hero's lips.

"We both know I could end it here. However, I'm being patient and awaiting your answer, dear". Villain's face was showing some concern aside from what was possible annoyance. Villain felt bad about doing this to their poor Hero, but he knew in the end, he was doing it for her own good. It was all good. From the plan of baiting Hero in by running into the snow coated forest, to knocking Hero down with a quick blow on the head, and now all Hero had to do was give their answer. Of course..Villain want an answer, but..Villain wanted "The Answer" upon which they were looking for. Either way, the result would ultimately be the same, Hero didn't need to know that of course.

"Take...a fine guess"! Hero snarled, coughing up a mixture of their own blood and the lake water. Assuming this was an answer to Villain's previous question, a sly smile made its way to Villain's face.

"Oh..but I'd love to hear it upon your lips"~ Villain cooed.

Hero's voice grew sharp, and tired. " "Fuck..yo-" was all Hero managed to get out before being submerged into the lake again.

Villain on top of Hero, the hold on her starting to bruise Hero's neck.

Villain's Gaze upon Hero struggling violently to come to surface was almost soulless. Though his eyes held anger, desire, obsession, yet pity.

"Such a shame.." Villain trailed. "Vulgarities come out of the most beautiful things...it'd be better if you used those lips to answer correctly instead".

It was painful. Everything hurt. Hero was tired, her muscles tense and aching, head spinning and pounding, but wasn't it better? Hero couldn't possibly give in to Villain..could she? No one in their right mind would agree to such an arrangement! It was simple though. Hero agrees to go with Villain- wherever that may be; villain takes care of Hero and as long as Hero obeys and listens like a "good Hero" Villain would consider taking their crime doing at a slower pace. Villain implied a strict "no deal breaking" at the end of his offer, but wouldn't that be Hero's freedom on the line? That's it- there's no way!

Yet here she was reliving a trauma. Maybe I could just let go..here. Hero thought. There it was. For a few moments Hero's thrashing and fighting resistance stopped.

Villain seemed to take notice, but didn't falter.

Ahh...but the others. The city still needs protecting. Promises made, friends in the process of being made, many depending on Hero. Could I even call myself a Hero regardless of how many times I've saved the nation if I just give up?

Pain, burning on her insides, muscles aching, body littered with bruises, cuts and scrapes, but none of it mattered, compared to the burning in her chest. Not just from holding her breath, but also from a feeling of determination. That was it! The adrenaline had sided with her body, giving Hero a rush of strength.

With the last bit of strength Hero had, she sprung up, breaking to the surface of the lake. Fist colliding with Villain's nose.

Villain's hold on Hero's neck broke away, as he stumbled back a few steps, hand already drenched in crimson. Droplets of blood falling into the lake; tainting the clear, subzero, water.

Villain's expression exhibiting raw yearning, infatuation and enthusiasm. His eyes said it "raving manic".

As quick as villain had made eye contact with Hero, so had his fist with Hero's stomach. With Hero on her knees, Villain attempted to submerge the weakened Hero once again. Only this time, Hero seemed to be putting up more of a fight, even though it did take everything she had in her to do so.

"Oh, Come now, Dear; This is absurd"! Villain scoffed. Irritation beyond clear.

Hero was burning with rage. What had she done to have such an act driven upon her?! Hero managed to grab hold of Villain's shirt, flipping them over with Hero on top now.

"You're weak"! Villain taunted as he took Hero by the wrist, pulling her close. Swift and hard Villain head-butt Hero, allowing himself to maneuver his leg and send Hero tumbling into the water.

Villain rose up eyes locked on Hero's form. He couldn't help but laugh. "Can't you see it"?! Villain gave a genuine smile. "Your condition is only worsening, you're on the verge of crumbling, I know it hurts, and yet...you're still going- still..fighting".

Hero stood up, legs shaking, breath ragged, and mind screaming to just give up.

"That is why I'm doing this. Even when death has its hands around you, you still fight. That burning fire in you. I don't know where you get it from. So passionate, only for it to become a wildfire such as now".

Hero remained still trying to keep her balance, listening to Villain. "M-My...my will to live. So, that's what's driving you to do this".

"Not quite-"

"Insane". Hero mumbled.

"What"? Villain questioned.

"you're fucking insane"!! Hero shouted, hysterically; laughter of the same form soon followed.

Villain watched, a frown exhibit as he watched Hero curiously. "You're not well..come with me". No wonder she didn't say anything, she was confused! Villain had figured it out. Hero needs his help, to be taken care of, and it could only be him. Villain! Besides Hero wouldn't have to worry about the crime when they had villain with them. Anyone else who dares to hurt his Hero, well..let's just say he would make sure they could never do so again.

Bangs covered Hero's eyes as she started to shake. Not just from freezing, but what seemed to be anger. Hero let out a shaky breath. "No..". Hero breathed.

"No"? Villain repeated.

"you wanted an answer..there it is." Hero began to stagger, holding her stomach.

Villain watched the Hero as though looking at a complex game of chess. Lost in thought. "Perhaps a bit more convincing is required". Villain said, making his way to Hero.

Hero prepared herself for whatever attack Villain would try. Though, once Villain reached Hero, he didn't attempt to hit her. "I'm not going with you" Hero implied, standing her ground.

Villain gave a tiresome sigh. "I see now. It's that spiteful fight in you; suppose I'll just have to tone it down a bit" Villain muttered, tightening his glove.

Maybe it was Villain's swift movements or maybe it was Hero's current condition, but she'd barely been able to see him move before sending a punch straight into her chest. Knocking the breath right out of Hero, sending her into the lake once again, submerged.

Villain took hold of Hero's neck, looking down at Hero thrashing underneath him, trying to come to surface. Hero tried everything their mind would allow. Kicking, pushing, scratching. Nothing was working.

There it is. Like a switch. Flick! Hero couldn't comprehend or think, she'd fallen numb. Releasing her hold from Villain, Hero's body went limp.

After a moment, Villain brought Hero to surface. Watching half lidded eyes blink at the sudden light.

"I don't intend to kill my prize. Like anyone would..I'll take very good care of it" Villain mocked, his voice smooth and oddly enthusiastic.

Hero couldn't take it anymore, the shivering, aching muscles, tired eyes..and of course the bothersome ringing. Hero gave way to the darkness consuming their eye sight, falling unconscious.

Part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/shylilbunny15/744971270168379392/writing-prompts?source=share

18 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 3 months

Text

February Line-up

I've decided to make use of this prompt list again, and I will be writing ficlets for the following pairings. Posts will be scheduled during the days leading up to Valentines Day.

On a falling tear: Aulë/Yavanna

Discretely: Caranthir/Angrod

Passionately: Gothmog/Eönwë

On a scar: Maedhros/Fingon

As comfort: Daemon & Baela & Rhaena (platonic only)

To wake up: Elrond/Celebrian

Out of anger: Morgoth/Fingolfin

Out of love: Harwin/Rhaenyra

Ficlets/fics incorporating themes from each days prompts and suggestions have been planned for all seven days.

Original image Dave Hoefler/Unsplash

The following will be written up for these prompts by @cilil

Marked: Thû/Lúthien

Disobedience/Ownership: Sauron/Finrod

Attention/Stalking: Melkor/Caranthir

Original Image Ed Robertson/Unsplash

#kiss prompts #💫 a world of whimsy writes #the silm #the silmarillion #house of the dragon #hotd #maedhrosmaglorweek #prompts #dark romance prompts

3 notes · View notes

asassydork · 4 months

Text

#writing prompts #writing prompt #writing inspiration #creative writing #story inspo #dark and moody #dark romance #dark romance prompt #dark romance prompts #crime romance

2 notes · View notes

elainiisms · 1 year

Text

going insane over the prospect of casual intimacy. like taking a bath together and sitting in between their legs while they wash your hair, press soft kisses to your cheek, neck and shoulders. just leaning your head back into the crook of their neck and relaxing as they hold you and trace lines across your skin.

26K notes · View notes

me-writes-prompts · 4 months

Text

-: "When are we really going to make things final?” Situationship prompts:-

(People who do these things, leave them. Right now. Lmao, tag me :)

By @me-writes-prompts

“Is this what we do now? Making out and then never talking about it? Great!”

“I thought you wanted more than this. More than what we have right now.”

“It’s like I’m the only one holding on to whatever we have going on, and it’s making me go crazy.”

“You never text me first, why?”

“I asked you if you wanted to go out on a date, but you never responded.”

“Look, I am literally head over heels for you, but here you are, indifferent to everything that I’m feeling.”

“I want to save us, why don’t you understand? Why won’t you try to hold on to us like I am?”

“Is this it? Is this what you wanted? 2 weeks of texting and flirting with me like it was nothing and then friend-zoning me?”

“I cannot believe you. I cannot believe how you are so not into me, but you act like you are.”

“You know what? I’m done with this. I’m done with you, I’m done with us. I can’t do it anymore.”

“That was bullshit back there, you looked at me like I hung the stars for you and now you’re saying that we can’t work out? My day couldn’t get any better.” :)

“Interesting, isn’t it? How you were blushing just from my words two days ago, and now? You don’t even smile at me when you look at me. It fucking hurts.”

1K notes · View notes

cats-obsessions · 4 months

Text

You cannot tell me Gortash isn’t the reason Orin turned on Durge. In Rivington, if you encounter all her forms from nearest to farthest from your starting point, Orins first disguised interrogation of durge is about who they’re in love with. She assumes durge loves someone. If they haven’t romanced a party member, she pushes it further- surely there’s someone you respect- someone you trust (a partnership built on mutual respect and trust, no?) .

Next, as the smith, she wants to know if you’ll kill those you care about. And we know who Durge didn’t want to turn on in the past- she surely felt personally betrayed by that as well.

Only then as the journalist does she actually get to the more important questions: how did you kill Ketheric and what do you plan to do next?

She may as well say it: she mutilated Durge, she removed part of their brain and did all she could to tear apart their memories but it still is at the forefront of her mind: do they love Gortash now? Do they remember how to trust him? Do they remember being respected? Cherished? Will they still refuse to kill the Banite? It might be semi strategic, but knowing why they’re in the city and what they know of Bhaal would be much more so.

#I really subscribe to ‘Bhaal prompted her to do this as a test and to hard reset durge’#so I do think Orin wants ammunition against gortash #and she wants to know if she’ll be up against durge or durgetash #but I also think Bhaal might be wondering how well this all worked if Durge didn’t romance anyone especially #they have to check if the reset worked #and I think Orin is so bitter knowing ultimately Durge didn’t care to exclude her from being slaughtered- only Enver would be saved for last #anyways it’s a bizarre line of questioning #orin the red #enver gortash #the dark urge #durge #durgetash #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #cats thoughts

684 notes · View notes

bookished · 7 months

Text

🦋 ( a second part for the collection of serial killer x fbi agent starters. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post 💛 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips. tag me when you use any!

"You know, Agent, we're not so different, you and I." "Don't even try to justify your actions. There's no comparison between us."

"I've always admired your determination, Agent. It's what makes this game so thrilling." "This isn't a game. It's justice, and it's long overdue."

"I have information that could help you catch the real monsters out there, Agent. But it comes at a price." "I'll never make a deal with the devil, no matter how tempting."

"You must be getting tired of cleaning up after me, Agent. Tell me, does the blood ever wash off your hands?" "My hands are clean, but yours will never be."

"You should be grateful, Agent. Without me, your career would be rather uneventful." "I'll be even more grateful when you're behind bars for the rest of your life."

"I've left you clues all along the way, Agent. Can you solve the puzzle before the next victim falls?"

"I've left breadcrumbs for you, Agent, but can you follow the trail to the truth?" "I'll follow your trail all the way to your downfall."

"I did what I did to expose the darkness within humanity, Agent. To make them see their own potential for evil." "Your twisted philosophy won't save you from the consequences of your actions."

"I have information on a new threat, Agent. Let's make a deal. You help me, and I help you." "I'll never trust a word that comes out of your mouth."

"You're so close, Agent, and yet so far. Can you decipher the riddle before it's too late?" "Your games won't stop me from catching you."

"You got lucky this time, Agent. But luck can't protect you forever." "I don't rely on luck. I rely on my training and my determination to stop you."

"Your profile of me was surprisingly accurate, Agent. Almost like you know me better than I know myself." "I studied monsters like you so I could bring them to justice."

"Do you remember the first time we met, Agent? I knew then that we were destined for something special." "I remember, and I remember that it was the start of your downfall."

"You're too late, Agent. The next victim is already gone. It's a shame you couldn't save them." "I won't let you claim another victim. You're not leaving here."

"You must get lonely, waiting here all night. I can keep you company, Agent, if you'd like." "I'd rather be lonely than in your company."

"Agent, I've been patient. I've watched you. Now, I have a proposal that will benefit both of us." "I'm not interested in your twisted proposals. You'll pay for your crimes."

67 notes · View notes

cilil · 3 months

Text

AN: Alright, my dear @fraeuleinfriedhof, I am a woman of my word. I decided to choose one of the dark romance prompts to create this little gift for you and hope it is to your liking!

dark romance prompts

♡ prompt: marked ~ Melkor x Mairon ♡ synopsis: While the Ainur of Utumno feast, Melkor makes sure everyone knows that Mairon is his and his alone. ♡ warnings: Smut(ty), not-too-explicit public sex, possessiveness, a hedonistic hell party going on in the background ♡ short oneshot (~600 words)

A snowstorm raged outside, pelting the frozen north of Arda with a furious flurry of hail and ice.

The halls of Utumno, however, were filled with warmth, laughter and music, and the Maiar of Melkor celebrated their lord's glory and generosity. Fires burned freely between mighty pillars of obsidian, wine, blood and meat were served in abundance and all indulged in whichever pleasures of the flesh they craved. It was a wild and frightening spectacle to behold, like a dance of maddened, frenzied beings that had once been holy and pure, and the scent of ash filled the air.

Amidst the chaos stood the throne of Melkor where he lounged, watching his people with idle amusement. On his lap, seated proudly and clinging to his form like a precious piece of jewellery, was a Maia unlike any other, one bright and beautiful among creatures of darkness, with hair of copper, eyes of gold and lips like liquid rubies.

One of Melkor's hands held onto his slender waist possessively, and the other was interlaced with his, each adorned with a black and golden ring, as if he needed to stake his claim on the wondrous creature he had chosen as his consort – though all Ainur who had ever come across He who arises in Might knew better than to covet what was his.

Mairon had long since learned to ignore the stares. He had learned to smile and giggle and bat his eyelashes whenever Melkor's hands began to wander. His entire being lit up with perverse, triumphant euphoria as he felt cool fingers slip underneath his luxurious robes and search for bare skin; on Almaren, he had been a mere apprentice of a smith, and now he was the consort of a king. His best, his brightest, his favourite, his *precious*.

Melkor's grip on his hand tightened just as his wandering hand cupped his ass. "I want you."

A clear, brilliant laugh filled the air, teasing to the point of mockery, and Mairon threw his head back to cheekily evade a greedy kiss – only to bare his neck, deliberately.

"Right here? Right now?" he asked, pretending to swoon at the mere idea.

"Yes." Melkor pushed him down harder onto his lap and pulled him in at the same time. "You may keep your robes, as the sight of your true beauty is mine alone as well, but I *will* have you."

Impatient, impulsive, insolent. Any other Ainu would have felt Mairon's wrath for such audacity, Vala or not; but his beloved he would indulge. Letting himself fall so he could lie on Melkor's chest, he looked up at him through long eyelashes.

"Take me then," he challenged, "show them that I am yours and you are mine."

"Be careful what you wish for. You might yet sing louder than they do."

"Make me."

And so it came to pass that even though the two lovers fell silent for a while as their lips met in a heated kiss, Mairon's song would eventually echo through the hall with such exuberance and ferocity that many turned their heads to behold the spectacle on their lord's throne and watched their feverish coupling. Blood-red robes pooled around his hips, concealing where their fánar met, but the force of Melkor's thrusts and his own frantic movements left little to the imagination. The fingers of their ringed hands remained intertwined as if to repeat the vows they had exchanged and sharp teeth and claw-like nails left marks on unblemished skin, like quiet, breathless whispers saying mine.

Thanks for reading!

taglist: @angbangbaby @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-big-tits @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot

#mairon #sauron #melkor #morgoth #angbang #melkor x mairon #ainur #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #cílil writes #my writing #dark romance prompts #gift fic #happy birthday again and i hope your day was and is lovely

30 notes · View notes

furious-haste-of-malice · 2 months

Text

AN: Received this as a request on main, decided to post it here to be safe. Please heed the warnings!

dark romance prompts

♡ prompt: disobedience & impact play (spicy bingo) | Melkor x Mairon x Maedhros ♡ synopsis: Melkor and Mairon teach their new favourite prisoner a lesson in obedience ♡ warnings: non-consensual oral sex, non-consensual impact play (whip) ♡ short oneshot (~800 words)

Due to this being Maedhros' POV, the two dark lords will be referred to by their alternate names.

When he had been captured, Maitimo had braced himself to face the horrors of Angband; yet nothing could have ever prepared him for the scene he witnessed now.

And would soon be made to participate in.

He had found out two things about the dark lord: That he was rather fond of red hair and that his lieutenant – whose chosen fána happened to share that trait – was also his lover.

Maitimo had been mildly disgusted upon being forced to witness noisy, messy kissing and lewd touching on the throne, as if they were inside a brothel and not a fortress, but it had swiftly escalated to outright horror when Morgoth suggested that he should join them.

"What do you mean?" Maitimo asked as calmly and slowly as he could.

"What do you think it could possibly mean?" Sauron snapped and yanked on his chain to force him to come closer.

It was obvious that his lord's interest in their latest prisoner irritated him, though Maitimo could take no pleasure in it, faced with a wolfish grin on the Enemy's face that sent all primal instincts into overdrive, screaming at him to run.

If only he could.

"Show him," Morgoth ordered, addressing Sauron. "He can service me after you are done, and if he pleases me we can consider being more lenient with him."

"As you wish."

Leaving his lord's side to kneel between his legs, the Maia got to work. Maitimo could only watch with growing trepidation as garments were undone and pushed aside to reveal a swiftly hardening cock. Even as it vanished between dutifully parted lips, the sheer size and girth were obvious to any unlucky spectator – not too surprising, considering that he was looking at a Vala, yet the implications of what had been suggested by the very same creature were all too clear.

Maitimo would be expected to perform such an act himself; and as if that in itself wasn't revolting already, he also doubted his physical capabilities. He had done such a thing before, admittedly, but it had been with his beloved Findekáno – no, he didn't even want to think about him now.

They shan't sully the memory.

"Enough." Morgoth's command brought both him and Sauron back to reality. "It seems our new toy is bored and wants to try it for himself."

The Maia withdrew, making a show out of his reluctance.

"I shall make sure he does his best," he said and summoned a fiery whip while rising to his feet and positioning himself behind their prisoner.

Maitimo trembled in disgust when he was inexorably pulled closer until he too knelt between Morgoth's legs and found himself face to face with a large, hard and glistening wet cock.

"Go on, Maitimo. Be good for me," the Vala purred.

"And if you are not, there will be dire consequences," Sauron hissed from outside his field of vision.

His words were accentuated by a well-aimed strike hitting Maitimo's back, eliciting a gasp before he could stop himself, and Morgoth took the opportunity to thrust inside his mouth and force his head down with one hand.

"Do not play coy with me. I know what you and your cousin did."

No, no, no.

How could fate be so cruel? How could he have fallen into the hands of the Enemy to be used like a common whore and have his deepest secret so nonchalantly revealed?

Maitimo's inaction prompted more whiplashes, yet he was much preoccupied with the struggle of not throwing up all over Morgoth's lap – a tempting prospect not just due to the unwelcome intrusion of his throat, but also a transgression he didn't want to face the consequences for. Struggling, he forced himself to focus on relaxing and breathing through his nose. His jaw was already beginning to hurt from the rough handling he received, and it only got worse when the Vala resumed moving, fucking his throat without any tenderness or affection.

Again, he refused to think of Findekáno.

Being used this way absolved Maitimo of the humiliating task of actively pleasuring the Enemy, yet enduring such violation was made harder by the fiery whip biting into his skin time and time again. He was no longer even sure what he was being punished for; maybe Sauron simply felt like he deserved to suffer for taking his place.

Had anyone asked him, he would have loved to swap.

Maitimo wanted nothing more than to vomit when hot, viscous liquid at last flooded his mouth and throat, making him gag around the huge cock in his mouth even more.

"Swallow."

Another whiplash. Morgoth held him down until he had done so, then gave a long, self-satisfied sigh.

"What do you think, precious? Does he deserve our leniency?"

"He remains defiant and disobedient, as is ingrained within his family. I think he requires more training before he may be granted any sort of mercy..."

Thanks for reading!

#maedhros #maitimo #melkor #morgoth #sauron #mairon #silmarillion #silm smut #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #cw noncon #tw noncon #minors dni #cílil writes #my writing #dark romance prompts #request

15 notes · View notes

mahoushojo-chan · 6 months

Text

Astarion x Tav || sickfic

can you keep me close? (can you love me most?)

synopsis: her vision is foggy, but she's fairly certain she can discern an angelic figure by her bedside, radiating a brilliant white or perhaps a gentle golden hue, accentuated by the candlelight in the dim room. then, the soothing radiance recedes slightly, and the angel utters, "you're an idiot," with a casual air, the words tinged with a devilish tone.

an excerpt of 'cause my love (is mine, all mine)

word count: 1435

pairing: astarion/tav

other tags: f!reader, bard!tav, half-elf!tav, hurt/comfort, sickfic, non-sexual intimacy, romantic tension, friends to lovers, the usual at this point, song inspo: someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic

ao3: here

concept: sickfic!!

Tav isn’t really sure what’s happening.

Actually, the whole past twelve hours have been a little blurry—memories and movements kept blending themselves in a non-cohesive way, she kept forcing her limbs to move but they would trail sluggishly behind, and she isn’t sure where she is right now.

When she feels something cool on her forehead, she finally startles.

Her vision is foggy, but she's fairly certain she can discern an angelic figure by her bedside, radiating a brilliant white or perhaps a gentle golden hue, accentuated by the candlelight in the dim room. Then, the soothing radiance recedes slightly, and the angel utters, "You're an idiot," with a casual air, the words tinged with a devilish tone.

Ah, naturally. She had never expected to receive her very own angel. It seemed more likely that the gods would send an eerie, skeleton-like old codger, draped in tattered robes, who would speak in cryptic riddles to assist her, or a dream guardian that, in reality, turned out to be a peculiar, haughty tentacled creature with aspirations of dominating all other races in the world with mind-controlling parasites.

She squints and blinks repeatedly until Astarion comes into sharper focus. He's seated in a chair, legs crossed, arms folded, and appears quite displeased. She vaguely recollects a caregiver mentioning bringing some medicine, and fervently hopes that her current company isn't the result of that promise. After all, her companion is one of the last individuals she wishes to see right now.

The situation is rather embarrassing. She's cocooned in blankets that are overly warm, her hair is in disarray, she can't quite manage to open her eyes completely, and her muscles are protesting, urging her to remain at rest. She's determined not to let Astarion witness her in this state or feel sorry for her.

Her first instinct is to apologize, especially under his scrutinizing gaze. Instead, she insists, “I’m dying. Can’t you be a little nicer?”

“Oh, goodness me. Perhaps I’ll just leave you to suffer this horrible affliction alone,” he offers, hand on his chest in mock offense as he gets up, pretending to leave.

“Good. You don’t need to take care of me—”

She reaches out for her hat and makes an attempt to rise, but Astarion places his hands on her shoulders, gently guiding her back onto the bed. His touch, once more, carries a soothing coolness, alleviating the hot discomfort and muscle soreness. "Oh, no, no, no. Absolutely not. I am not suffering another heart attack because of everyone’s favourite idiot again," he admonishes her, and she blinks in surprise, as it almost seems like he's expressing genuine concern for her.

“I’m not everyone’s favourite idiot,” she protests, weakly, even as he presses her back into the mattress to lie down.

“No, but you’re mine.” He says, perched on top of her. He's leaning above her now, effectively pinning her to the bed. He senses her slight movement beneath him, though it's hard to discern if she's merely shifting or genuinely attempting to break free, given her frail state.

Nevertheless, he gazes down at her from above, her hair splayed across the pillowcase, her face flushed, eyes half-closed, disheveled clothing, and heavy breaths. He realizes the position he’s in and releases her quickly, flustered. He hides this by opting to fetch a drink of water from his waterskin for her.

“You—you could have said something, you know.” He continues, smoothly. “Before it got this bad.”

“You had other things on your mind. Didn’t want you to worry about me,” she mumbles, but Astarion detects the slight slur in her words. He lifts the glass to her lips, eyes lingering on its shape, and she takes a sip of the cold liquid, letting out a soft moan of relief.

“Don’t want you to get sick, either.” She adds, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Thinking your companion is going to die after they randomly collapse is very worrying, so you know.” Astarion chides, putting away the waterskin. “And also, I’m far too dead to contract such a simple illness. Dalyria says it’s from exhaustion—something you’re suffering from more than me, for once.”

He’s really sure that she’s dying now. She does not retort, and against all odds, it seems that she actually managed to fall asleep again. It makes sense to him that her sickness might be getting slightly worse. When he first touched her forehead, it felt scorching to the touch, and she's now buried beneath several layers of blankets, almost swallowed by the bedding.

Astarion takes in the sorry state of the room. There's a soiled towel nearby with remnants of vomit. He observes her shivering, her clothes clinging to her body, drenched in sweat.

Astarion sets out to gather some supplies—more towels, additional water, and some rations. They were running low on food, but as long as she could sustain herself, he wasn't too concerned.

He watches her as she drifts in and out of consciousness, noting her increasing confusion, likely due to the worsening fever. She mumbles about things he can't quite make out as he settles with a book to keep her company while he monitors her condition.

He glances up from the pages periodically as she rests on the makeshift bed, wrapped in old, dusty blankets. Astarion stokes the nearby fireplace to provide warmth, even though she appears to be sweating profusely, so he's unsure if it's the best idea.

She did seem to be relieved by his touch, though. To check on her condition once more, he reaches out and gently brushes her hair to the side to touch her forehead. She initially flinches, and he moves to withdraw his hand—until she grips his wrist. It’s a feeble hold, but she keeps his hand pressed against her face.

He realizes he doesn’t feel repulsed by her actions at all. It’s true, she’s using him—quite literally, as some sort of relief—but it feels like she needs him in this moment. He can’t pretend not to like the thought of being needed, even wanted by her.

He wonders, as an extension of that line of thought, if he would be okay with kissing her. Reflecting on his past experiences with the drow, he remembers the familiar, lingering disgust and self-hatred that typically arose. However, Tav doesn't evoke any of those emotions within him. His hand drifts, and his thumb traces her bottom lip gently. It's not smooth or plump; it's dry and cracked. Somehow, that makes it feel more authentic, and the question lingers in his mind.

But he doesn’t need that. He can get physical affection from anywhere. He just… likes this. That’s all it is. That’s all it has to be, right? This is rarer—he wouldn’t give this up for the world.

So he doesn’t allow his thoughts to wander beyond that.

But seeing her reluctance to let him go stirs something within him. It’s a tug at the depths of his chest, an undeniable ache. Well, if he could be of help to her like this, then who was he to deny her? After all, it wasn’t as if they hadn’t shared moments like this before.

He proceeds with caution, making every effort to avoid disturbing her as the bed slightly dips underneath his weight. He pulls the blanket over both of them and he draws her near, and she emits a soft sigh as her arms instinctively encircle him, warming his chest.

In the absence of a clock, Astarion loses track of time as he remains in bed beside her. He devotes most of it to observing her, running his fingers through her hair with a gentle touch. It's an act one might do with a lover, although she remains unconscious. He could murmur tender words, and she would remain unaware. Even if she happened to hear, he suspected her current state of mind would prevent her from retaining the information. No, this is for his own solace, and he finds it strangely comforting.

#astarion romance #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #bg3 #writing #astarion headcanons #astarion x mc #mutual pining #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x dark urge #sick fic #mahoufiction #sickfic #fic ideas #writing prompt

360 notes · View notes