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raven-awed · 1 year

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What He Noticed First part 2

Ominis Gaunt x fem reader/MC

Angst/fluffy

Summary: Ominis finds himself dealing with a lot of complicated feelings, especially when he realizes he has a crush on the new fifth year.

A/n: Thank you everyone who read part 1! I was not expecting so much support/interest. Thank you @minichrismd for the help! This part is written from the reader’s/MC’s perspective and is fluffier with a happy ending. Enjoy! ☺️ tags: @rascal-20 @stuck-on-writing

*not my picture

Your head tilted to the side as you watched Ominis march off into the dark corridor. You considered chasing after him, but with the way he’s been avoiding you lately, you worried that your presence would only upset him further.

Ominis has never been what anyone would consider open, especially not with you, he seemed to keep all his feelings and thoughts bottled up. Very rarely he’d share what was going on in his head when the two of you would talk.

He always was the one to ask questions, constantly curious about you, but oblivious that you were just as curious about him.

You had hoped becoming closer friends with Sebastian would also bring you closer to Ominis. The way Sebastian talked about their friendship, their secrets, their bond, the more you wanted to become part of that world, their world.

When Sebastian spoke tonight of their time in The Undercroft, you imagined yourself experiencing something similar with them, even if it was just simply sneaking away to practice spells or play Gobstones.

With a long sigh, you slowly walked towards the common room.

The school year had just begun and already things were getting rather complicated, not that you were expecting anything to be easy after learning that you can see ancient magic, but boy troubles should’ve been the least of your worries.

Over the next few days, you focused on school work and completing the first task presented by Professor Rakham.

Ominis had continued to keep his distance, taking a different seat in every class. You weren’t sure how he seemed to know exactly where you were, even when you were as silent as a mouse.

One morning, you received an owl from Professor Weasley asking you to meet with her for an assignment. As you paced around in the hall, you thought about what she had in her letter.

You froze, wide eyed, when a grand door with an intricate design materialized out of nowhere.

“What’s this?” You mused.

“Already found it, I see,” Professor Weasley smiled as she joined you. “This is the room of requirement. Seldom few seem to find it.”

Another secret room, you thought to yourself as you wandered through the vast and cluttered space. Hogwarts truly was full of surprises it seemed.

Professor Weasley shared her story about how she and a house elf named Deeks discovered the room while she was in school. She had decided to share it with you, so you could use it as a place to study and catch up with your class work.

She advised you to close your eyes and that the room would become exactly what you needed.

When you opened your eyes, you gasped. The room that formed around you was incredible, the high ceilings, the beautiful details and designs, it was all absolutely stunning. It was literally something out of your very dreams.

Standing in the center, you slowly turned taking in all the details. Already you were feeling giddy about spending hours here honing your skills.

You paused as one of the paintings caught your attention. Your face began to burn as you spotted a familiar face amongst the random paintings and portraits. Hanging in the middle of the wall was a portrait of Ominis, his head resting on his hand. From the expression on his face, it seemed as though he was in deep thought.

You quickly glanced at Professor Weasley, who fortunately hadn’t noticed the portrait and instead was busy chatting Deeks.

“Why are you here?” You whispered to yourself. It was puzzling that there would be a painting of him, while the rest were of random wizards and witches.

Moving closer to it, you studied Ominis’s face. The image had captured every little freckle and beauty mark of his. You almost felt like you could reach out and touch him. He closed his eyes and a small serene smile formed on his face that made your heart flutter, but under your fingertips all you felt was canvas.

You missed him.

Perhaps that’s why, being near him again was one of the things you were longing for the most, this was likely the room’s way of making that happen.

As Professor Weasley approached you to start your lessons on Transfiguration, the Ominis in the painting wisely slipped away, saving you from any sort of embarrassment.

“Ready to begin,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

…

The following day, you found a seat in the back row behind Ominis who was all the way in the front. You stared ahead, watching him. A couple of weeks ago he would’ve saved the seat next to him. It bothered you more than you cared to admit.

“You should count your lucky stars, he's blind,” Sebastian muttered, taking the vacant seat next to you.

You gave him an irritated look, before returning your attention to Ominis.

“Honestly, it’s pathetic watching you pine for him,” he explained. “The whole school is going to know about it before he does.”

You groaned, shrinking in your seat, were you really that obvious?

“Go talk to him,” Seb urged.

“We haven’t talked since that night outside at the Undercroft,” you whispered as Professor Weasley slowly walked past you and Sebastian. “I think he’s still mad at me.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, “His bark is worse than his bite, trust me. Underneath it all, he’s quite forgiving.”

You sighed, hoping Sebastian was right about that. You continued to stare at the back of Ominis’s head, trying to figure out how to mend things with him.

Suddenly, Seb started chuckling, his body shaking slightly beside you as he tried to contain himself.

“What’s gotten into you now?” You pressed.

“Just occurred to me that you probably wouldn’t mind if he did bite you,” He teased.

“Ugh,” you scoffed disgustedly, giving him a playful shove with your elbow. You must have pushed him harder than you meant to because he lost his balance and fell backwards out of his seat.

“Mr. Sallow,” Professor Weasley reprimanded. “Having trouble staying in your seat again?”

A few students giggled as Sebastian stood up and dusted himself off. “Sorry, Professor.”

Your heart skipped a beat as Ominis turned in his seat slightly, wondering what was going on in the back of the classroom with Sebastian. You really were pathetic, you thought to yourself.

Back in the Room of Requirement, you tended to your Mallowsweet plant as you worried about your predicament with Ominis.

Sebastian was right about a few things this afternoon, one being your attraction to Ominis and the other being that you needed to talk to him. However, that was easier said than done. You weren’t even sure right now if he’d be willing to hear you out.

You glanced over your shoulder at his portrait, the Ominis in the painting was resting his head on his folded arms, taking a nap. His hair was adorably disheveled as he slept. You wished you could brush back the strands hanging in his face.

You had to do something, you didn’t want things to continue down this trajectory, but the only way to fix any of this mess was to do something, anything.

Your best bet would be asking Sebastian for help. He’d be the one who could convince Ominis to at least meet with you. You’d figure out the rest.

…

You played with the sleeves of your robe as you waited for Ominis in the Transfiguration Courtyard.

A cool autumn breeze rustled the leaves of the trees as it passed. Several other students were out enjoying the mild weather, sitting around the fountain reading books and chatting.

You had stayed up all night imagining how this could go. You thought about what you would say, what he would say. You hoped for the best, but expected the worst, heartbreak.

You took in a deep breath as you saw Ominis. As usual he was hard to read, his expression remained blank as he headed towards you.

“Hello Ominis,” you said.

He hesitated with his response as a wave of vanilla carried by the wind greeted him too.

“Y/n,” he finally replied, his lips pressing together in a tight line.

“Thanks for meeting with me.”

“Sebastian was quite persistent on your behalf,” he muttered. “So what did you want to talk about?” He asked, getting straight to the point.

“I-“ you frowned, looking from side to side, there were too many people here. “I-I wanted to show you something.”

Ominis lifted a brow and gave you a questioning look. “Alright,” he agreed reluctantly. “Lead the way.”

You led him towards the direction of the Astronomy Tower. The walk was quiet, filled with tension, you still didn’t quite understand why he was being so cold to you.

Ominis furrowed his brow, wondering why you brought him to the middle of some random hall. “Why are we stopping here?”

Being blind meant that he had mesmerized Hogwarts’ entire floor plan, it took time, lots of time, but it was necessary.

“Just give it a moment,” you explained.

He perked up when he heard the wall beginning to shift and change. Reaching out, he felt wood instead of cold stone, his fingers tracing over the grain and patterns that had magically appeared down towards the handles.

Pushing the doors open, you followed Ominis inside. By the echo of yours and his footsteps, he could tell the space was large with a high ceiling.

“What is this place?” He asked, carefully moving about the room.

“The Room of Requirement,” you shared. “Not quite as secret as the Undercroft, but still relatively unknown to most.”

He nodded, taking it all in, he paused in front of your potions station, it smelled of leech juice. “Brewing Maxima potion?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I’ve been using this space to catch up on class work.”

As Ominis continued his self guided tour, you tried to work up the nerve to tell him. It seemed so much easier when you thought of this plan yesterday, but the words just wouldn’t come out.

“So,” Ominis started, turning towards you. “What was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“I- um-“ you sighed, frustrated. You want to lose this chance, but you were just sputtering like an idiot.

“Well what is-“

But before Ominis could finish his sentence, you pressed your lips to his. Your hands gripped the front of his robes and pulled him closer.

The kiss took Ominis by complete surprise. He didn’t exactly kiss back, but he didn’t stop you either. He was in such shock that his poor mind struggled to accept the fact that you were actually kissing him.

The kiss only lasted for a few seconds, before you slowly parted. Shyly, you looked at him. The expression on Ominis’s face was priceless, his eyes were wide, cheeks tinted pink, and his jaw was hanging open.

You rubbed the back of your neck, “Sorry, that’s not exactly what I had planned to do, but I was worried I’d lose my nerve.”

Ominis blinked, still processing the last few seconds. “What?”

“I like you,” you finally admitted. “A lot, and it’s been driving me crazy that you’re not-“

“You like me?” He repeated.

“I do,” you confirmed in a small voice.

Clearing his throat, Ominis smoothed out his robes and licked his lips nervously, “I like you too.”

He hated how childish and simple the words sounded, originally when he had planned to confess, he had a more eloquent speech prepared, but at least he finally confessed. And he couldn’t even begin to describe the relief he felt knowing you liked him too.

Cautiously, he reached out, fingers extended as he tried to find your face. He swallowed thickly, as the pad of his index finger brushed over your lips.

His touch was so light that it made you shiver. His hand traveled lower, palm resting on your neck. Ominis closed his eyes and tilted his head.

As he leaned forward, you met him the rest of the way. This kiss was slower, more tender. His lips were so soft and plush as they moved against yours.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you,” he murmured, with his eyes still closed. “I was… I was jealous of how close you and Sebastian were becoming.”

Ominis buried his nose in your hair and inhaled deeply, drowning in the scent of vanilla. “I just want to be close to you.”

The next afternoon, you and Ominis walked into the Great Hall hand in hand. All morning the two of you had been attached at the hip. You had explained to Ominis that you both had to make up for lost time and he was happy to oblige.

“Ah, there’s the happy couple,” Sebastian greeted as you and Ominis sat across from him. “I believe I deserve some thanks for this,” his gaze drifted over to Ominis. “One of you is terribly stubborn.”

“More stubborn than you?” Ominis questioned. His hand remained clasped with yours during lunch. Both of you idly conversed with Sebastian and each other while you ate.

“I’ve got Herbology next,” Ominis pouted. “Dreadful subject.”

“Want to meet in The Undercroft after classes?” You asked, leaning close and whispering in his ear. Ominis smiled sweetly as he felt your breath tickling his ear.

“Of course,” he replied and then kissed your cheek.

“Ugh,” Sebastian scrunched his face in disgust and pushed his plate away with part of an unfinished sandwich, “Think I liked it better when the two of you weren’t talking.”

You kicked him under the table. “Maybe we should stop talking to you, then,” you joked.

“Go ahead,” he retorted. “Might spare me from having to hear and see all this lovey dovey nonsense.”

You laughed, “Didn’t know you were so easily offended, Sallow.”

Ominis shook his head, “he’s a real prude, no better than any of the professors.”

“Hey,” Sebastian shouted.

“Come on,” Ominis started, rising from his seat and offering you his hand again. “I’ll walk with you to your next class.”

Tag list: @rascal-20

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x reader #Ominis gaunt fanfic #reader insert #female reader #Hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt x mc

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underdark-dreams · 3 months

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Fellow Rolan lovers forgive me 👀 I have no idea where this came from. I just encountered Harper Geraldus in Act 3 again in my playthrough last night, and my brain said, that boy needs to get [redacted]

Harper Geraldus x afab!OC (unnamed, description kept vague)

Wet Behind the Ears

"What would you like, Geraldus? You can tell me." Harper Geraldus has had a very bad, terrible, absolutely no-good week. His superiors decide he needs a night at the Sharess's Caress to cure what ails him.

Tags: Size Kink, Sexual Inexperience, Face Sitting, Explicit | afab!OC

Word Count: 5.6k [Read on AO3]

No sooner had she stepped from the bathwater did the door to her chambers swing open.

“Hope you’re not headed to bed,” called a sing-song voice.

She wrapped a towel around her wet middle just as Irenya flounced brazenly past the wooden screen beside her bath. Privacy was a rare luxury in Sharess’s Caress, but her workday was well over—she’d earned the right to a bit of it.

“Do come in,” she drawled.

The elf only gave her a coy smile as she toyed with the laces of her tiny bodice. Even for a courtesan, Irenya wore as little as she could get away with. And the bar downstairs owed her half its profits for it.

“Good, you’re up. Mamzell’s got another client for you.”

“At this hour?” A bit of impatience crept into her voice; it was far past midnight. Whoever they were, they’d better be paying well. “Don’t suppose they’d prefer one of our lovely drow.”

“You know that’s not how this works,” Irenya laughed, a tinkling sound. “Mamzell handpicked you. Said you’ll be his type.”

That meant he was either quite green, or quite reserved—she knew her niche well. She busied herself with toweling off and wondered which. “Patriar?”

“Harper,” answered Irenya.

That did stir a mild curiosity. Harpers were even rarer than Guild members on the upper floors of this place, and that was saying something. Folk who dealt in secrecy and under-dealings were strongly discouraged from visiting pleasure houses—though she knew from personal experience that they didn’t always listen to orders.

And why should they? Sharess’s Caress kept secrets better than any of them put together. But unlike the Guild or the Zhent, most Harpers weren’t known to have pockets deep enough for after-hours trysts.

“If this is another favor for Entharl Danthelon,” she warned, cinching a gauze robe around her waist. “I swear, Amira turns into a giggling maid around that bloke. Don’t tell her I said that,” she added swiftly.

Thankfully, Irenya didn’t seem to hear. She took an eager step closer. “Just wait till you see, you might have fun with this one. He’s so pretty,” Irenya groaned, biting her lip in the way that earned all that coin.

Pretty or not, her body yearned only for her empty bed. But telling Irenya that would ensure it got back to Mamzell Amira, and the house mother’s patience had its limits. She put on a practiced smile instead.

“Then kindly shoo,” she told Irenya. “And send the pretty man up.”

As the door swung shut behind the elf—who was no doubt headed for a good night’s sleep, unlike herself—she heaved a sigh and moved to prepare her room for clientele. A second goblet on the tray; a pass over the covers and pillows to ensure they looked fresh and unslept in. She shook her hair down from its clasp, glancing in the mirror by the bath to smooth it. Then she perched herself on the edge of the mattress and arranged her robe to show a sliver of leg. Just enough to catch the eye.

If this Harper was openly visiting the Caress, he must have done something very impressive worth rewarding. Or else survived something awful enough to warrant a professional distraction.

Gods, let it not be the latter. She’d comforted her share of men and women who only wanted to be held while they cried, but tonight, the prospect made her groan. A tumble in the sheets would be far less work on her part, and the customer usually left just as satisfied in the end.

A soft tap at the door broke her reverie.

Her brow furrowed for a moment—knocks were rare. “Come in,” she called.

When the youth stepped slowly into her room, it was immediately apparent why he hadn’t just opened the door like any other patron would.

Irenya hadn’t lied—he was certainly pretty. But gods, he was young. Couldn’t be older than twenty or so, with an angular jaw and wide hazel eyes framed by long, dark lashes the same color as the hair curling just past his shoulders. He had the look of a fawn who’d just stumbled into the middle of civilization.

She watched his large eyes quickly take in the room. When they fell on her where she sat, the blush that traveled up his face was noticeable even in candlelight.

Her mind switched tack at once. She rose to her bare feet, wearing her friendliest and least wanton smile.

“Please,” she invited, drawing an arm out to welcome him in.

His eyes flicked down her figure once, then settled firmly up on her face. “Thank you,” he managed, and strode briskly into the room as if afraid she might rescind the offer.

It took only a few seconds to size him up. His leather jerkin was well-worn but clean, same as his boots. He was tall and fit, yet he moved with more of a cautious ranger’s gait than that of a soldier or swordsman. Perhaps that was just down to nerves. As she watched him close the door, she noticed his pale fingers fidget and shake on the latch slightly.

Few of his age and apparent rank could afford this place, particularly by special appointment. Someone must be very fond of this young man.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she told him, filling the inevitable silence before it could form. “Would you like a drink? I’ve got something excellent from Amn.”

She turned away to uncork the bottle and give him a chance to look around. In truth, this was a vintage she’d been saving for a quiet moment alone tonight—but it would taste just as fine with company. As she filled both cups, she could hear him shifting on his feet behind her.

“Thank you,” he repeated again as she turned back. His voice was a gentle tenor, and there was a nervous tremble on the first word.

“So.” She offered the wine out to him—he was careful not to touch her fingers as he accepted it. “What shall I call you?”

“Geraldus,” he blurted out. Clearly not taking up her veiled offer to give a pseudonym. When his doelike eyes finally met hers again, they were unsure. “Can—could I ask your name?”

She gave him another easy smile and replied with the usual. Not returning his honesty—but when did she ever?

“Very nice to meet you.” And young Geraldus actually dipped his head in a little bow to her. Oh, she would have this one fast asleep in half an hour.

“What a gentleman,” she laughed, finding herself harmlessly charmed by the gesture. “The pleasure’s all mine. Seat?”

She sank back down on the edge of the bed while leaving plenty of space for a gap. For a moment Geraldus froze, and she was afraid she’d broken him. Then he followed suit wordlessly, wine in hand, and took a seat on the very far corner of the mattress.

Really should bother Amira for some chairs, she noted to herself. Then again, most of the clientele didn’t mind beds as much as Geraldus apparently did.

At least he was drinking. It would help him forget his nerves, and she was pleased to see Geraldus take a long drought as his eyes roamed across the room again over the edge of his cup.

She took a savoring sip. “Good, isn’t it?”

“It’s sweet,” he agreed in surprise. “It doesn’t burn like—” He caught himself, looking sheepishly at her. “That is, it’s better than the wine back home.”

“Where’s home for you, Geraldus?” She tried and failed to imagine such a gentle soul growing up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

“Nowhere special,” he said, looking down to swirl the liquid in his cup. “Just a little village in the Greenfields.”

“Ah—” She half-reclined with an elbow on the mattress, and felt a grin rise to her face in spite of herself. “Yeah, that’s firmly ale country. Damn good ale, though.”

Geraldus’s face finally relaxed. “You’re from Greenfields too?”

“Just lived there for a while. Long enough to miss it after a few years in the Gate. Let me guess, was your family in barley or sheep?”

“Sheep,” he laughed, and she admired how handsome he was with a touch more confidence. “On rainy days I can still smell the wool.”

“You think sheep are bad? Try pigs.” She cocked a brow at him and took another drink.

Geraldus looked at her as though trying to tell whether she was joking. “There’s no way someone like you has mucked out a pig stall.”

“Why not?”

“You’re a lady,” he protested, as if that ended the discussion. “You drink Amnian wine, you smell like lavender—” Geraldus straightened up slightly, looking as though he'd given too much away.

She found she enjoyed his guilelessness. She had no regrets about the comforts this life afforded her, but ‘lady’ was a stretch. Still, manners were always appreciated.

“How else do you think I paid my way here?” She teased him. “Selling my best sows set me up quite nicely my first year in Wrym’s Crossing.”

The subjects of life in the country compared to life in Baldur’s Gate took them far. She refilled their wine twice, eventually just leaving the bottle within arm’s reach on the floor. Geraldus had relaxed enough to mirror her pose and lean back on his elbow; she brought her feet up on the bed to curl into a comfortable shape beside him.

Perhaps sleepiness and the wine were going to her own head…but Geraldus looked prettier by the minute. She watched the rose-petal curve under his lower lip as he spoke, not catching what he was saying. His eyes were more of a pale green than the hazel gold she’d taken them for at first. Or maybe that was just a trick of the candlelight?

As she pondered, she realized that he had grown silent and was watching her face in turn. She'd angled herself closer to him involuntarily while he spoke. They were close enough she could hear the shallow note of his breathing.

“Can I ask you something?” She requested, breaking the quiet. Geraldus nodded.

“Why exactly did you come here tonight? You’re not the usual type,” she added, and touched her fingers to his free hand in an attempt to soften the observation.

“Oh.” Geraldus fiddled with the neck of the wine glass in his hand. “It wasn’t really my idea. Not that—this is nice,” he said in a rush, and she felt his fingers twining up through hers on the bedspread. “Not like I expected.”

She cocked her head. “Did you expect me to eat you up?” Not a bad idea, she thought, glancing over the lines of his body under his jerkin.

“No!” He blurted out in surprise. “Maybe? I don’t know…it just happened so fast. Entharl pushed me out the doors before I knew where I was. Said I was too gloomy for usual company,” he added, looking down at his boots.

So that confirmed her earlier suspicions. Harpers may be discreet, but it was hard to miss things when you worked down the street from what was almost certainly one of their safehouses. Which meant poor Geraldus must have been sent here tonight for comforting as much as pleasuring.

“Have you had a bad day?” She asked gently.

His large eyes met hers with a long look. For a moment, he almost seemed close to tears. “Bad week,” he answered.

She brushed the back of his hand with her thumb. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Vehemently, he shook his head at her.

“What would you like to do then, Geraldus? You can tell me.”

“I don't know…I’m not sure.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Can I kiss you?”

In answer, she took the wine glass from his hand and set it at the foot of the bed beside her own. Then she reclined parallel to him, tilting her face up in an open offer.

Without another word, he leaned down to press his lips to hers. He trembled slightly against her, whether from nerves or from a more sober emotion she couldn’t tell. She brought a hand up to his hair regardless, smoothing and tucking the dark waves back behind one lightly pointed ear.

Their lips slid together softly like that for a long moment. Eventually she felt Geraldus relaxing against her mouth. But his frame still hovered over her, as if he wasn’t sure where to put his weight.

Without breaking the kiss, she guided his far arm to her side. Though she’d placed it there herself, the feel of his large palm pressing against her waist stirred a pleasant warmth in her belly. She clasped both hands behind his neck, encouraging him to lean down further over her while they kissed.

When he left his lips parted for a few seconds, she took the chance to gently touch her tongue to his. Geraldus made a soft, eager sound against her, returning the gesture with enthusiasm. His mouth was warm and sweet and tasted of rich Amnian wine.

While kissing him was lovely, she was increasingly curious to know how else she might take this poor boy’s mind off his apparent troubles. When she pulled away, Geraldus’s face trailed after hers as though reluctant to end the kiss.

“Would you like me to kiss you anywhere else, darling?”

Geraldus blinked down at her, perhaps thrown by the pet name. “Where else is there?”

It brought a laugh from her, and she curled her fingers through the dark locks behind his neck. “You really don’t know how this works, do you.”

His eyes widened with a nervousness that only confirmed her suspicions.

“I've been with a woman before,” he answered defensively.

“Oh?” She continued petting his hair, keeping her tone light and unteasing. “Have you been kissed other places, then? By men or women?”

From there, it was easy to suss out the exact limits of his experience. It came as no shock that no one had ever put their lips anywhere but his mouth. Not his neck, his chest, his cock—that last fact she withheld her kisses from him until he admitted, flushing profusely right up to his dark hair all the while.

She found herself speaking more plainly than usual. “Geraldus, first I’d like to help you out of these clothes. Then I’d like to suck you off before I ride you. How does that sound?”

That had most certainly broken him. He stammered and blushed somehow darker; she could practically feel the heat radiating off his face above hers.

Finally, he managed a breathless response of “yes, please.”

She drew his lips in against hers again as she went to work. She felt him reach a hand to the buckles under his side, but she was already springing them open on both right and left.

“How do you know—” He began, impressed, before quieting as the realization hit him. She slid the leather pieces up over his head and leaned in to give him a quick, enthusiastic kiss. When his linen tunic followed, she kept him held back for a moment with a hand splayed over his sternum.

Gods damn, but they grew them right back in Greenfields.

Geraldus was broad-shouldered and lean, with firm bands of muscle beneath the pale skin of his arms and chest and stomach. From the sinews in his forearms and the strong cut of his shoulders, she guessed he handled a longbow quite often.

As her eyes raked over him with open appreciation, she caught sight of a shining scar across his left side. Young he may be, but his body already bore evidence of his chosen profession. She reached to brush down the line of it with her fingers; Geraldus shivered but tilted slightly into her hand.

“Didn’t get that shepherding,” she observed.

“No,” Geraldus agreed. He licked his lips again—the gesture was much more intriguing combined with shirtlessness. She hooked her thumbs over the waist of his pants in suggestion.

“Wait,” he requested, his gentle voice trembling again. She watched his eyes moving over the curves under her thin robe. “Can I?”

She leaned back and stretched her arms up over the pillows, arching her back in invitation.

Slowly and deliberately, as if unwrapping an expensive gift, his fingers reached for the tie at her waist. She watched with satisfaction as he drew the garment open to each side to expose the bare length of her body. His lips parted in admiration as he took her in.

“Can I touch you?” Geraldus asked in a whisper.

“Anywhere you like,” she assured him.

To her delight, Geraldus fell over her and began eagerly exploring her chest with his lips. When his hot mouth closed over the hard peak of one breast, she hummed in approval and ran her nails up through his long hair. It seemed to encourage him; his calloused palm moved to cup the other.

“Tonight’s for you, darling,” she reminded him lazily, not really in a hurry to interrupt him.

He responded between hungry swirls of his tongue. “I’d kiss you here if you’d let me,” he said, and his hand actually slid from her breast to land boldly above the apex of her thighs.

“Absolutely not,” she laughed against his brow. “Gods, you’re unbelievable—how dare those Harpers keep you hidden away so long? Sure you don’t have a little sweetheart in Rivington?”

“Of course not—” There was a wet sound as he released her breast to stare up at her, wide-eyed. “I wouldn’t be here if—if I was—”

She clasped his jaw in a hand to kiss him again, drowning out whatever earnest response he was trying to make to her teasing. “If you’re very, very good tonight, I’ll sit on your pretty face. How about that?”

“Gods,” he groaned, and that pretty face landed between her breasts. “Would you?”

She looked down at him quizzically. “You honestly want to, don’t you?”

His cheeks flushed a deep pink. “Yes,” he admitted.

“As long as you’re a good boy, then,” she told him. With a firm shove, she sent him sitting back on his heels at the end of the bed. “Now take off your pants, Geraldus.”

He scrambled to obey, kicking off his boots before his fingers fumbled at the laces of his trousers. She lay back and watched him with genuine anticipation. From the size of the tent straining at his front, she already suspected that the gods had given to him with both hands.

And what a delightful bit of justice in a harsh world—for young Harper Geraldus to be blessed with such a big cock.

His impressive length stood stiff at attention, skin a lovely smooth pink—and the size of him. Not the biggest she'd had, but much closer than his blushing shyness had led her to believe.

She crooked one finger at him where he stood in a come-hither motion. He crawled up the bed eagerly, but she shifted away to the side at the last minute. “On your back,” she directed him.

Geraldus obeyed again, his tall frame collapsing into the pillows as he watched her shuck the robe all the way back off her shoulders. She curled up into his side, tracing a finger down the firm, fair planes of his chest and stomach. He shivered under her touch.

Then her fingers closed gently around his base—barely fitting a third of his length in her grip. She pumped him a few slow times from base to tip. It would require most of her creativity to take him, either with her mouth or her cunt.

But if anyone deserved both, it was the young man currently squirming and whining in her bed. She could tell Geraldus was struggling to quell the instinct to thrust up faster into her grip. No doubt trying to be good enough to earn what she’d promised, judging by the way his wide eyes were fixed in anticipation on her face. She clenched her thighs together at the thought of having his eager mouth between them.

“I can see why no one’s put lips to your cock before,” she mused, enjoying the way his dark brows screwed up just from the unhurried strokes of her hand.

“W-why?” His tenor had shot up to a strained pitch. She loosened her grasp completely—it would be too easy to finish him like that.

“You’ve got enough to choke on,” she told him, and climbed between his legs. “But don’t worry, I’m quite good at this.”

Before he could clear his expression from its jumbled mixture of shock and hope, she leaned to take his tip softly over her tongue.

His body made a sharp jackknife at the waist, and Geraldus let out a word much filthier than she expected. But she was ready for his physical reaction—the weight of her forearms on his hips kept them firmly planted into the mattress.

She slid her mouth over him, relaxing her jaw to take him all the way to the back of her throat before releasing everything but the very tip of his cock. She continued the motion several times until saliva trickled down the rest of his length. Then she returned her hand to his base, twisting her grip to meet her lips with each motion.

She took him just like that, giving attention to his full length, relishing the way his smooth tip bumped the back of her throat with each thrust. He whimpered and begged incoherently above her at the sensations of her mouth and hand taking him in tandem. Could he already be as close as he sounded?

Just as the thought occurred, she felt his legs tense on either side of her own. Almost disappointed, she instantly slid her mouth off him with a wet kiss of release.

Geraldus made a sound like a sob at the absence. When she glanced up, there were actual tears pricking at the corners of his dark eyelashes.

“Dearest,” she murmured up to him. It was far too tempting to apologize to that face; she placed nipping kisses along his thighs instead. “You deserve to feel my cunt first, don't you think?”

“Yes,” he groaned, obviously trying to master the strain in his voice. It suddenly seemed like a very good time to reward his patience.

“Be a good boy and slide down,” she urged him, already moving up around his straining erection on her knees to straddle his waist.

That brought a spark of hope to his eyes. Geraldus frantically gripped her torso for leverage, tugging her bodily up the bedcovers as he somehow nudged each of his broad shoulders through the gap in her legs. As he settled her above him, he stared up at the slick view between her thighs like a penitent.

“Smack me twice if you can’t breathe,” she told him, giving his dark locks a teasing pull to try and get his attention. The way he nodded left her unconvinced he’d heard.

Deciding he looked ready enough, she lowered herself firmly over his waiting mouth.

For all his obvious inexperience, the instant heat and enthusiasm of his tongue was a pleasant start. Her eyelashes fluttered in satisfaction as he painted firm strokes up her folds, just barely reaching her peak.

“Good,” she praised with a sigh. “Higher—”

He listened attentively despite wearing her thighs clasped around the delicate points of his ears. His hands rose to her hips as he angled his mouth higher, finally hitting the spot where she needed him most. Her toes curled where they were pressed over his biceps.

He was completely unpracticed, but he had good enough instincts to keep the pace steady as she rocked herself against his face. She imagined his hips bucking uselessly into the air behind her, desperate to wet his neglected cock in the folds his tongue was parting.

“Pretty Geraldus,” she sighed, her hand a fist in his dark hair, trying to keep her wits about her as she felt a twitching climax build at her core. “Shall I come on your tongue?”

His eyes flew wide between her legs. In answer, strong forearms gripped tighter over each of her thighs, holding her down onto the now-frantic lapping of his tongue over her slit. She closed her eyes and arched her back against him, giving way to the heat of his mouth desperately sucking and licking her closer to the edge.

With one last tug on his hair, she shuddered against him and rode out her orgasm over his tongue. She felt a gush of arousal from her center flow out over his lips. Geraldus moaned something against her flesh, but the words dissolved into a hum that ran straight to her core and reverberated as another shiver of pleasure up her spine.

With effort, she pushed herself back to sit on his chest, freeing his arms. Geraldus gasped for air slightly, but his expression was drunk with pleasure and a bit of pride. His mouth and chin were painted wet with her arousal.

“Such a good boy,” she purred in praise. “Getting me ready to take that big cock of yours—” Before he could respond, she reached to swipe her thumb along the wet line of his jaw, then nudged at the juncture of his lips.

He understood immediately, obediently sucking her finger into his mouth and cleaning her release off with his tongue. She felt his hips rocking involuntarily behind her.

With a smooth shift of her weight, she landed with her bare chest pressed to his and pushed her wet slit back against the top of his cock.

“Oh,” Geraldus whined above her, and his beautiful eyes squeezed shut at the feeling. She continued slicking her folds up and down his length to wet him, all the while watching the way his face screwed up as if pained. His fingers flew to grip around hers where they lay over his ribs.

It was difficult enough to line up her opening with his cock from this angle—let alone while having both hands held hostage under his own. Using his firm stomach as leverage, she pushed up to straddle him against her and then sank down. It seated the tip of him perfectly inside her.

Just that first stretch was delicious. Geraldus seemed to feel the same; his hands released hers, instead landing on her hips with an enthusiastic squeeze. But he panted obediently under her, eyelids still shut tight, waiting for her to take him further.

Little by little, she eased herself down onto each inch of him, her jaw falling slack as he stretched her walls to their limit. Finally her hips landed to slot against his own.

She stayed there for a moment, relishing the utter fullness of having his cock entirely buried within her. The ache at her opening was slowly tipping from a twinge of pain to a throb of pleasure.

But she wouldn’t be able to ride him from this angle. Instead, she leaned forward to grasp his strong shoulders and braced her arms straight against them. “Geraldus, look at me.”

His eyes fluttered open then, and landed on her face where it hovered above his. She took in his parted lips, the aquiline line of his nose, the youthful smoothness of his brow marred by a pleading wrinkle as he waited for her to move. And his expressive eyes, which she now decided with certainty were a pretty shade of hazel—currently traveling over her face as if trying to read her thoughts.

“You are the loveliest man,” she told him with utter sincerity. And I’m going to fuck you until you forget everything but my cunt.

With his eyes still on her, she slid her hips up and back down over his length. A guttural, breathy sound rose straight from his chest. She continued working him in and out of her tight wetness, finding a slow but steady pace that was just barely past the edge of teasing for both of them.

“Oh, Gods—” His hands spasmed against her hips, as if he wanted to bounce her faster on him but wasn’t sure whether it was permitted.

She took the cue herself. She ground her hips into his at a more brisk clip—and bit her lip hard at the sensation of his tip knocking deep inside her with each thrust. At this angle and pace, he filled her to the point of incoherence.

After being taken up to the edge of release by her mouth, she could tell Geraldus was already close again. When her fingers brushed up over his hard nipples, he let out a shuddering whine of pleasure. His hard length twitched against her walls.

At once, she slowed to grind her hips into him, relishing the pressure of his hard cock filling her so fully. He panted at yet another denial, and she felt his calloused fingertips digging into the flesh of her hips. Geraldus gazed up at her with a plea for more.

“Have you been good enough to come in me?” She studied his face unhurried, admiring the way his fair brow screwed up in anguish and pleasure at the question. “What do you think, darling?”

“Yes,” he begged, too sweet to know he was strong enough to fuck her at whatever pace he wanted, even from this angle. “Please, yes, I have—”

She splayed her fingers across his chest, rocking herself deeper atop him. “Ask me for it.”

“Please,” he whined prettily, his eyes shining with tears again. “Please, please, I’ve been good, I swear—Gods, let me come inside you, please—”

He was so earnest, so beyond desperate, it would be unthinkably cruel to deny him. She leaned both hands back on his thighs and rode him hard, using the angle to drive his cock into her center again and again. Stars swelled across her vision; each thrust sent his considerable length pounding against the limits of her insides. She closed her eyes against another rush of pleasure to her core, listening to the sweet way Geraldus whimpered her name.

Large palms pressed hard against her lower back—the angle of him shifted inside her as he leaned up to muffle his sounds into the skin of her breast. Then his arms and legs shuddered as he released inside her, spilling and twitching against her walls. She rode him out through it, as best she could with the way he clutched her to him, wanting him to feel every last scrap of pleasure.

Her own climax hit her like the snap of a bowstring. She found her arms clenching around his shoulders for balance, as if she might tumble away on the wave that rushed through her body.

Geraldus supported her firmly, sweet thing that he was, holding her tight despite the way his own limbs trembled.

After a while of him holding her straddled on his lap, the pressure between her legs turned to an ache. She stifled a wince as she shifted to slide off him. Even his softening length was a stretch for her tender and likely now bruised insides. She chided herself for riding him so enthusiastically before—she knew better than that.

As she began to pull away further, Geraldus clutched his arms tight around her back.

“We just need a towel,” she explained, turning to kiss the tip of his ear. “Did you think I was leaving?”

“No,” he lied, growing sheepish again, but his arms loosened to let her up.

She returned with a soft cloth for each of them. He reached for one, but she knelt beside the bed to neatly clean him. Even now, he was still too green to grasp exactly how this all worked.

And the mess between her own legs could wait; by now his release had already dripped out of her to generously coat her thighs.

Once they were both tidy, she rose to her feet and smoothed back a stray lock of his hair. “Would you like me to draw you a bath?”

Geraldus shook his head, looking up at her with sleepy affection.

“Would you like to go to bed, then?”

His eyes filled with innocent delight. “I can stay?”

She considered telling him that after the sum his keepers had no doubt paid, he could do a great many more things with her. But it might be nice to surprise him with that in the morning.

Instead, she raked her fingers through his hair and tilted his face up for a soft kiss. “Of course, darling.”

She moved on rather unsteady legs to snuff all the candles, then helped guide him under the covers through the dark.

When it came to sleeping, she didn’t usually care to share her bed with others. Tonight she found herself in an unusually generous mood. Geraldus was long-limbed and full of wiry muscle, yet every bit as gentle as a lamb.

As she settled herself under the blankets, he notched his face up against her shoulder and rested an arm securely across her middle. She leaned her cheek against his dark hair like a pillow. The feel of being weighed down by his body against her side was comforting in a way she didn’t expect.

“I love you,” Geraldus abruptly sighed against her neck.

She let out a sleepy breath of laughter that ruffled the locks of his hair.

“No you don’t,” she told him gently, and pressed a kiss to his brow. “You just really, really needed that.”

#nsft #bg3 geraldus #harper geraldus #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfic #bg3 spoilers #geraldus x oc #spicy

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brenbofen · 10 months

Text

Getting Hot ♥︎

IL Dan Heng x Male Vidyadhara Reader

Broadcaster Message - I know it’s canon that Vidyadharas can’t reproduce and therefore wouldn’t have mating seasons but hush, let me indulge in my brain rot. Put me in a room with him and he will come out PREGNANT ‼️‼️

Notes 🗒️ - ‼️ Honkai Leaks ‼️, Dom AMAB Reader, Sub Imbibitor Lunae Dan Heng, MASSIVE Breeding Kink, Anal, Marking/Biting, Implied Dan Heng is shorter than you (This man cannot be over 5’7”, I will die on this hill.), Scent Kink, Belly Bulge, Pet Names (Baby), Written before 1.2, Severely not Lore Accurate. !! NOT PROOF READ !!

You were a new member of the Astral Express, joining them sometime after the events in the Xianzhou. Everyone had warmed up to you quickly, well, everyone but Dan Heng. You didn’t understand why he was so cold to you. He spoke harshly to you and hardly ever gave you the time of day, you had to figure out the archives on your own because of this. The others caught on to this but didn’t do anything, saying that’s just how Dan Heng was and that he’d warm up eventually.

He sure did.

You were currently sitting in the parlor of the express, trying to figure out a way to excuse yourself to your room. Your tail curled around your leg tightly as you clenched your jaw. Your heat was starting and you could feel it, how your cheeks were warm and flushed, the tightness in your pants, sudden awareness of everything. You hated it. March was rambling on about something, completely oblivious to your discomfort. Shockingly, your savior was Dan Heng.

He walked into the parlor and immediately his eyes locked onto you. He jogged over and grabbed your arm, pulling you from the chair you were sitting in. “I need to speak with [Name].” That was all he said to the confused March before dragging you off to your room. You didn’t know what was happening but Dan Heng’s grip on your arm only made your condition worse, the contact making your already horny brain go feral. He told you to lock your door and watched you intently, removing his jacket.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, crossing your arms and digging your nails into them. The sight of his exposed arms made your mind feel fuzzy, it took everything in you to not pounce on him. “Helping you.” Was all he said, he was so matter of fact, you hated it. Dan Heng guided you to your bed, tossing his jacket off to the side. Your tail thumped against the bed impatiently as you watched Dan Heng run a hand through his hair, suddenly you became keenly aware of what was happening. His hair grew long, reaching his lower back, the underside a beautiful green. Bright teal horns and tail formed, ears elongating to an elf-like shape. He was a Vidyadhara, just like you. He turned to you, bright green eyes staring straight through you.

You knew him. You had remembered seeing images of him on the news and plastered in newspapers. He was Imbibitor Lunae, a Vidyadhara that had rebelled against the Xianzhou. You didn’t care at the moment, all you cared about was how fucking hot he looked at the moment.

You practically lunged at him, pulling at the collar of Dan Heng’s shirt and sinking your teeth into his neck. He winced at the sudden feeling, stumbling back from your added weight. You weren’t thinking, all you knew was you had to mark him, make sure everyone knew he was yours. Dan Heng knew this and he didn’t mind, this was basically his goal. Letting you get all your tension out on someone who understood what was happening. He groaned as you bit down harder, large hands grabbing at his sides, pulling up his shirt. You pulled away from his neck, removing Dan Heng’s shirt. You admired your mark on him for a moment, running your tongue along it, licking any blood that might’ve formed from the wound.

Dan Heng whined, your actions and scent kickstarting his own heat. He hated how long he had kept himself from you, scared how you would react if you found out he was also a Vidyadhara, but this trumped all his fears. He gripped your forearms, bucking his hips, he wanted you in him so badly, feel you fill him up. He buried his face into your neck, taking a deep breath. You smelled so good, he so badly wanted to be wrapped in your arms, be yours. You grinned against his sensitive skin, nipping at the flesh as you dug your nails into his sides. Dan Heng whimpered, feeling you trail your hands up his sids and resting on his stomach.

You bit his ear, hot breath hitting against it. “Imagine how good you’d look carrying my children.” Dan Heng whined when you pinched the skin of his stomach, “You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby? Want me to stuff you full of my cum?” Dan Heng nodded frantically, tail wrapping around your calf. “Please- Please fuck me alreadyy—“ Dan Heng cried out, taking in more of your scent. You of course obliged, you could barely tolerate the feeling of your aching cock in your pants any longer.

You picked Dan Heng up and brought him to your bed, both of you stripping quickly. You pushed Dan Heng beneath you, rubbing your hands over his stomach, watching as his chest rose and fell. He looked so pretty, eyes glossy and mouth hung open, bright red bite mark showing he was yours. You spread his legs apart, rubbing your thumb over his entrance. He whined, raising his hips for better access. “Look at you. Just the other day you were giving me the cold shoulder and now your a whining mess for me.” You cooed, pushing your thumb into his hole. Dan Heng practically screamed, he was so sensitive. “Please—! Pelaseee just fuck me already!!” He cried out, clawing at your bed sheets. You pressed your finger into his hole, moving your other hand to grip his thighs.

His tail circled around your arm, whining as your pressed a second finger into him, making a scissoring motion. You pulled your fingers away and hovered over Dan Heng, pulling his legs further apart. He watched intently as you lined your dick up with his hole, tail tightening around you arm as you pressed your tip in. With your free hand you leaned forward, pressing your dick deeper into Dan Heng. “Fuuck— Holy shit, you’re soo tight…” You hissed as you pressed into Dan Heng, feeling him tighten around you.

Dan Hang let out a gasp, arching his back in an attempt to feel more of you. You filled him up so perfectly, hitting all the right spots, he just couldn’t get enough of you. You ran a hand over his stomach with your free hand, glancing up at him. “Okay if I start moving, baby?” Dan Heng nodded frantically, looking at you with desperation in his eyes. You laughed, leaning forward and kissing Dan Heng as you harshly thrust into him. He let out a breathy moan, hands flying to your horns for some kind of support. His tail moved from your arm on his thigh to your waist, grip so tight it was like he wanted to hold you inside of him.

You pulled away, watching Dan Heng as you thrust into him at a steady pace. He watched as the lump in his stomach appeared and disappeared as you moved, feeling your dick ramming into his prostate. He still had a tight grip on your horns, keeping you hovering above him. You loved the sight, Dan Heng’s mouth hung open, glazed over eyes as he watched you pound into him.

He was so pretty like this. You couldn’t help speeding up your thrusts, Dan Heng practically screaming as his tail tightened further around you. “Pleas— Ahh—! Fuck, don’t-don’t stop!” Dan Heng cried out as you continued to pound into him ruthlessly. Dan Heng began mindlessly babbling about how amazing you felt in him, how badly he wanted to carry your children, be so stuffed full of your cum. These words just pushed you further and further off the edge, nails digging into Dan Heng’s skin as you fucked him.

Dan Heng whined, tugging on your horns. “[N-Name]—! I’m close— Hahh—“ Dan Heng practically screamed as he came, his cum splattering across his chest. You came shortly after, his hole squeezing around you making your mind go fuzzy and blank. You gasped for air, feeling Dan Heng’s tail finally loosen around you waist. Dan Heng admired his bloated stomach, seeing how you filled him up with your cum.

He pulled you down to his level, kissing you softly. When you pulled away he stared at you so lovingly, eyes half-lidded. You rubbed his sides, knowing he probably wouldn’t be able to walk for the next week. Dan Heng let go of your horns, resting his hands on your shoulders. You mumbled a soft “Thank you.” To Dan Heng, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

#📺 brenbofen’s stories #honkai star rail leaks #hsr leaks #honkai leaks #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #writing #hsr x reader #dom reader #dan heng #dan heng smut #dan heng x male reader #dan heng x reader #imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae x reader #dom male reader

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brabblesblog · 7 months

Text

Jealousy

Part two of the Goodnight Moon fic! This will probably now be a slow burn with a fair amount of angst, fluff, maybe smut? and a happy ending.

Please let me know what you all think!

Read on AO3.

Part 1 and 3

Masterlist.

The sound of your laughter from across the camp broke Astarion’s reverie. Ears prickling, he looked across the campfire to see you and Gale in his tent, shoulder to shoulder and looking at a scroll. He leaned in, eyes narrowing. You never laughed like that in his presence.

Ever since that night, feeding on you had become an almost nightly thing. Without fail, you would come over to him shyly every day and whisper that he could come feed on you tonight, and he would always purr a flirty response that never failed to make you blush. He would never admit it, but he lived for those moments when you would get flustered, cheeks reddening and barely able to string together a reply. The rest of the day would almost always end up with you two together, either quietly walking together behind the rest of the group, or fighting side by side, his back to yours and yours to his. In the evenings, once things quieted down, he would make his way to your tent and always find you awake. The two of you would chat a little bit, before and after the bite, and then he would bid you goodnight. You still kept your hands clenched, he noticed, and he wanted to put his hand over it every time, but something in him held back. In this way your friendship was slowly blooming into something more authentic, but Astarion really didn’t know what to make of it yet. He knew you were attracted, yes, but was not sure what the reluctance for physical intimacy meant. You no doubt wanted his body - but why say no, then? Every time he made some sort of advance - fingers ghosting down your neck when he leaned in to bite, hands wrapping around your waist to stop you from falling into a trap - you would respond very positively, heart racing and face reddening, but you would always pull away. And you never really laughed, he realized. You smiled, and looked at him warmly (and he would always feel something warm pool in his chest whenever you did) but it was always so- he sighs, trying to figure out what it was -

Guarded. Like there were parts of you you were never going to let him see.

And now, this laughter. He pretended to continue reading his book, but his eyes were glazed over and trying to listen to the conversation.

“Gale- this.. this is stupid!” You giggle, smacking Gale on the thigh. “I can’t even figure it out. I’m too dumb for this.”

Gale utters a long suffering sigh and shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone with so little affinity for the weave. It is quite intriguing, if it weren’t so pitiful.” You smack him again and he yelps. Astarion looks up, staring now, and his heart breaks a little. You were so open around Gale, so willing to be so close to him without any walls up.

“I have to go soon,” you say, “but I definitely will be practicing more with you.”

Gale chuckles, then grows more serious. He lays a gentle hand over your shoulders, tugging you close. Astarion notices you don’t blush, but you also lean in fully. “Are you sure this is what you want? It’s dangerous, falling for-“

You interrupt Gale, shushing him. “It is. And I don’t think I really have a choice. Now be quiet! Only you know.” You give him a quick hug and then leave, heading for your bed. Gale watches you go with a soft look on his face.

The elf quietly closes his book, pondering what he had just heard. Falling for? Gale? How did he miss this?

It should be fine, right? Just because you and Gale were well- whatever you two are- doesn’t mean he’s lost your protection. You still let him feed on you. Perfectly fine, he tells himself, as a burning hot feeling rages through his chest. A feeling he suspected to be jealousy, but refused to acknowledge as such.

He preened more than the usual before coming to your bed tonight. He made sure his curls were perfect and clean, and that his shirt was tied a little looser, showing off more of his chest. Bracing himself, he walked to you, and to his surprise saw you still with that blasted scroll, practicing.

“Looks like either your teacher was inept, or you’re just unable to grasp the finer points of the weave,” he drawled, adapting an air of casual indifference as he walked in. You blush furiously, hiding the scroll. “Astarion. Uh- hi. I didn’t think you’d come so early today.”

“I’m not surprised. Seeing you fumble about all day, I’m sure it’s a you thing, not him,” he continued. You eyes darken with hurt, and you look away. Wordlessly, you lay down and bare your neck, wanting him to just bite and be done with it. He sighs, sits down next to you, and eyes you warily. The quiet stretches for a few minutes.

“Am I to assume our nightly… rendezvous is at an end? I am sure Gale would mind if his sweet apprentice always ended up woozy in the daytime.” He knew it made zero sense, but he was just trying to soothe his own pain, stamping down any hope he had inside himself.

“No, he does not mind,” you say softly. “I’m just trying to learn one spell, not be a wizard.” Your eyes move over him and gods, he was beautiful. His eyes were filled with an emotion you have never seen there before, and your eyes fall downwards, lingering on the pale skin where his shirt was a little too carelessly left open.

He notices your eyes, and his expression darkens. Maybe your heart was Gale’s, but you still wanted him. He takes your hand and places it where you were looking.

“You know, they say that when vampires feed, their hearts beat again,” he says, leaning in closer, keeping your hand over his chest. “Would you like to feel that?”

You can only gulp and nod, completely caught in his trap. He places a soft kiss on your jaw, then moves down to your neck, biting down.

You feel a soft thudding under your fingers, but you aren’t sure if it’s your own pulse or his heart. You close your eyes, just feeling it. The now-familiar cold and numbness creeping over you; the new and possibly imaginary heartbeats under your splayed fingers. You lean in against the top of his head and inhale, planting a soft, loving kiss.

You were dangerously close to falling in love with him, that much was sure. Gale had been right to caution you against it. You weren’t even sure what he wanted. To manipulate your feelings so that you’d feed him, help him? Most likely. By all means you should resist, to tell him he could have what he wanted without giving anything in return, but for now you wanted to enjoy this.

He finally finishes, pulling away with a satisfied smile. The thudding stops, but you’re not really sure if it was ever there. “Did you enjoy that, my dear? I never really am sure if it’s true, never checked myself, but you can tell me now,” he smirked.

You take a few moments to compose yourself, then sit up too. “I did feel something - I think. I wasn’t sure. But. Astarion,” you speak so earnestly he looks to you with surprise.

You take a deep breath. You have to tell him.

“You don’t have to do anything, okay? Nothing in return for feeding. I will feed you. And I will help you. And I will do my best to keep you safe.”

He looks crestfallen, but in a second it’s hidden behind a mask of indifference and a smirk. “Why of course I knew that! It’s all just fun though, isn’t it? To taste you, to taste me - to make our dull days a little better?”

So it is Gale. Astarion’s heart breaks a little bit at your words, as much as he denies it even exists. Your help is assured, so he should be happy. But all he feels is that gnawing hole in the middle of his chest.

“It is fun,” you acknowledge. “You have made my days considerably less dull.” Gathering your courage, you finally lean forward and kiss his cheek. You keep your eyes shut, afraid to see his expression. This will probably be the last time you and he would have any contact of the romantic sort, seeing as you told him it was no longer necessary. But all the same you will miss it.

“Good night, Astarion,” you whisper softly, eyes still closed. As you begin to pull away, he stops you, hands on your shoulders keeping you there. He takes a sharp breath, one that makes you realize his lips are right in front of you. “Good night, darling. Sleep well.” A small, chaste kiss is placed on your lips, and just like that, he is gone.

Astarion leaves before he can say too much. Before he can spill out words that he’s too afraid to admit even to himself. He hunts recklessly tonight, trying to burn the thought of tonight’s events from his mind.

#baldur's gate #astarion #astarion baldurs gate #astarion x mc #bg3 #pale elf #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #bg3 tav #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #baldurs gate astarion

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foolish-spectre · 4 months

Text

The Price of Freedom

Pairing: Astarion x Gender-Neutral Tav/Reader (Primary Focus is on Astarion)

Content Warnings: Murder and Canon-Typical Violence, Allusions to Physical, Emotional, and Verbal Abuse, Mental Breakdowns, Gore?, Massive Spoilers for the Pale Elf Quest in Baldur’s Gate 3, Heavy Angst

Word Count: 835

Characters: Astarion Ancunin (primarily), Cazador Szarr, Tav/Reader, brief mention of Astarion’s siblings

A/N: So I wrote this on a 14 hour plane ride, basically I wrote this in the last hour since my brain was mush for the other 13, I wanted to explore his side of things hence why it’s in second person, and I’m going to give a hot take, I’m glad you can’t hug Astarion after he kills Cazador, not because he doesn’t deserve it of course not, but because I don’t think he would like to be touched after such a painful but cathartic moment, he hates being touched, especially in a moment like this, there’s a time and a place for hugging in Astarion’s mind and in my opinion, this scene ain’t it, KEEP IN MIND I ALSO WANTED TO HUG ASTARION AFTER THIS SCENE SO I DONT BLAME ANYONE, but personally Astarion doesn’t want to be hugged rn, another thing I noticed is how Astarion is always drawn to your hands, it’s always the hands, I want to explore more of that in a separate fic or headcanons but yeah

Your grip upon your master’s knife tightened as you stared down at your “Father.” He likened his sired spawn to be family, and you were ready to give him all his owed dues as the eldest child.

It was funny to see him on his knees after so many years of shoving you beneath his feet. A wicked grin slithered onto your face as you yanked his long black hair aside to bare his neck.

The knife felt so light in your hand, how strange. One last thrust and it would be all over. One last thrust with the same knife that your pathetic master carved that damn infernal script into your back. It tethered your fate to him and now it would finally set you free. He would never hurt you again.

The first plunge felt cathartic yet it wasn’t enough, it would never be enough. You started with his neck since it was his bite that doomed you. Then you thrust the blade repeatedly into his heart and ribs, he oh so loved to play with yours and even threatened to rip your’s out so you could see how pathetic it was. Just the thought of it made you dig deeper into his rib cage.

After the frenzied attack upon your master’s chest, you thrust the dagger upwards into his stomach. He was never satisfied with your hunts, always demanding more and more. Even wanting to consume you, practically making you believe that’s all you were. But you weren’t, you would never be-!

Just as you were about to violently flip him over and plunge into his back, you finally looked at his face. The sadistic smirk was wiped off replaced only with fear and disbelief, his sickening voice silenced, his eyes devoid of disgust… you were left with nothing.

Cazador Szarr was dead.

As the adrenaline wore off and you realized that your tormentor was finally dead, you slumped to your knees, dagger falling from your grip.

He was finally gone. He would never be able to hurt you again. And yet…

Why do the scars on your back feel fresh? Why did fear seep into your very bones? Why did you feel so miserable-

As sobs wracked your tired body, your siblings and friends surrounded you, unsure of what to do. Your lover approached you cautiously, not because they were afraid of you but because-

You didn’t really know and even though you’ve spent months together, you were still trying to get a hang of things.

They held out your arms to embrace you and in return you gave them a flinch. You hated the look they had on their face when you did, but… it feels so tainted, so fresh, so…

You hated it, you needed to get out of here, you needed to be in the sun again, you needed… you needed to feel alive again.

You stared down at your master’s corpse and held his staff for the first and last time. The rest was a blur.

Right now you were finally exiting this damn house, you would never have to see it again. You would finally be free, from this prison, from the people who tormented you, and from the crypt that reduced you to nothing but a feral animal.

As your weary feet got closer to closer to the entrance of Cazador’s palace, a part of you wanted to look back. To look back at your master’s dead body to make sure he was dead, gone for good.

… Why did you still think of him as your master, even when he’s gone? He was your master no longer, he would never have to control you again. You’re free of him.

Cazador means nothing to you now and you’ll make sure of that.

As you tried to shake your mind off of this, you walked side by side with your companions and lover. You stared at their face, even now they looked so beautiful.

Sure you didn’t care for them at first, but they were still with you… after all this. It would’ve been so easy to leave him behind for Cazador to consume him but they didn’t. They stayed and fought tooth and nail to save you, to help you achieve freedom.

You didn’t realize that you reached out for their hand until they looked at you, surprised. You were about to pull away until they gave you a gentle squeeze back.

Even though you were empty, even though you felt like the world had ended after all this… it felt reassuring. In a sense, your whole world did end. All those centuries of torment and the master that owned you was finally put to rest. All of it was in the past. Your lover’s hand reminded you that you did the right thing. That… you weren’t tied down to Cazador anymore.

You were finally free. And you didn’t want to lose this, you wouldn’t trade power for the one person who truly cared about you.

#bg3 #baldur’s gate #baldur’s gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x mc #my writing #astarion angst #angst

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munsonbrackets · 6 months

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Tutor Astarion

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/shorts/lHIfng6qd90 IDK why this makes me feel something, but I’m not mad about it.

Like imagine being some shitstain of a student (on purpose lowkey) and Astarion having to tutor you because he’s the best in the class, which of course he is considering he is a fucking elf. Like why wouldn’t he understand Elvish and Espruar?

And at first, you were genuinely trying to appease him. Every teacher you have ever had has told you that your pronunciation is remarkable, no matter what script you spoke. Really, your accent might actually just be the only thing preventing you from failing this class. And you might also not be failing because Astarion, top of the class (fucking showoff), is tutoring you.

Truly, they could have given you anyone else, even Halsin tried to volunteer (but he was quickly shut down by the teacher). No. Your dear teacher decided to kill two birds with one stone in a very simple manner. By teaching them how to throw. Astarion seemed to severely dislike teaching others what he had so simply been raised with and you were going to probably fail this class.

And at first, you hated it as much as he did. The sneery remarks that he made, as though he was mad at your parents for not teaching you something as simple as Espruar, you would be quick to respond in an indifferent snide comment in infernal. A language that he was, funny enough, not familiar with. Which just seemed to frustrate him even further.

But then he corrected you, he was right with his correction, but there was still something in that snappy tone and sneering face that made your heart skip a beat.

The assignment was simple, you thought. Send a letter designated to your teacher. The letters' contents could be a memory, a short trip or a fun story you had come up with. And while you were supposed to have said ‘aerister’, a teacher, instead you accidentally said ‘ageas’, a guard.

- - -

Astarion looked at you from underneath a quirked brow and a slightly open mouth as if to ponder if you had finally gone mad or maybe to silently say ‘are you stupid?’, which obviously weren’t the words that came out of his mouth. “You wish to send this letter to your guard?”

You looked back at him with the same sneer, but also intense confusion. Did ageas mean guard? You swore you remembered it meant teacher… Astarion made no effort to tell you what ‘teacher’ was, so you spoke up instead “Obviously not! I know that ageas means guard! What I meant to say was-” You furiously scrolled a couple pages in your dictionary, trying to remember what ‘teacher’ was in Elduran, “‘aethus’.”

Astarion’s face dropped into a plain old sneer, without the look of your stupidity in his mind, and you felt a shit eating grin spread across your face. You were right, you had definitely been right-

“The word you’re looking for is ‘aerister’.” He sneers out, obvious pronunciation when he says it, so that you might repeat it. But there isn’t a moment for you to speak before Astarion snickers and speaks in a playfully condescending tone-

“Unless you wish to send this letter to a male harper, which I won’t shame you for, it just simply isn’t the assignment.”

And you feel your heart thump. One hard heartbeat that makes all of the air in your lungs metaphorically rip out of your body, makes a tingle shimmy itself up your spine to make all of your hairs stand on edge, makes your heart feel like it has beat its last.

You could feel the muscles around your eyes spasm in small, practically unnoticeable, twitches as you quickly blurt out-

“Aerister! Anyways, are we done now?”

Before you allow Astarion to sneer something back, you start throwing your pens into their respective places and leave quicker than you ever have. You only feel the heat of embarrassment creep up your neck after you are fully out of view of his gaze. With an exit like that, he must be just feeling…something? You didn’t feel like worrying about it and you head down the hall, heading home to figure out your own thoughts before you worry about his.

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leviathanspain · 2 years

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Hi! can i request a bill weasley x malfoy!reader where he and the reader are married and the reader gets taken by their family and locked in the dungeons with luna and ollivander and then the reunion when they finally get back to shell cottage

the fire is a love affair

bill weasley x malfoy!reader

synopsis: your family couldn’t pass up the chance to torture their traitorous daughter

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your parents, more specifically your father, had been thrilled to see you trapped in their dungeon, under your former home. voldemort had asked about you, asked about your marriage and gave some snarky well wishes that were purely sarcastic, making the rest of the death eaters laugh. your mother and father laughed, although they were incredibly embarrassed that their only daughter had run off with a weasley. you were a catastrophic disappointment, a disgust that left you penniless and practically disowned. your own brother had refused to talk to you.

you shivered slightly in the corner. luna was embracing you, silent as she did, you closed your eyes and tried to imagine being back with your husband. bill was probably worried sick. you were supposed to be at work, and you had never returned home. promising him a nice roast for another pay raise at his job, you had never gotten home that day to make it.

luna had stood up and left your side, and you had barely noticed the new additions to your imprisonment. only when you noticed the familiar red shock of hair, did you finally snap back to reality.

“ron?” you stood up, and watched as your brother-in-law turned around, a beaming smile with a shred of hope made you practically leap into his arms.

“oh my god, y/n.” ron spoke your name in relief as he hugged you. he set you down and you smiled, “how’s bill?“ ron looked at you with a grim expression, his eyes flickering emotions. you merely nodded and inhaled to keep yourself calm. bill wasn’t good, not at all.

you turned to see harry and you embraced him as well, “i would ask how you’ve been since i last saw you, but i doubt this is a good time.” you tried to make light of the situation and harry nodded, “no yeah, same goes for you.” he chuckled slightly.

the plan of your escape was a whirlwind. you knew all the ways to get out of the dungeon, but considering your parents already knew that, they had prevented all the ways you would know.

dobby had popped into the dungeon, took your hand and lunas without another word, and whirled you away.

you stared at the familiar cottage, your home, and beamed. you turned down to look at dobby and you hugged him, “you were always my favorite mistress.” dobby told you and you smiled, “it’s y/n, you free elf.” he whirled away without another word minus a smile and you turned to luna, grabbing her hand and tugging her to your home.

you opened the front door and peered at your home. everything was the same, as you had left it. monday’s cup of coffee was still on the coffee table in your living room. your breakfast plate was in the sink waiting to be washed, your jacket on your couch was waiting to be worn.

“bill?” you called out, letting go of lunas hand as you began to look around the cottage rooms. you heard some shuffling and suddenly, your favorite weasley came stumbling out from your bedroom, hugging you without even looking at you. you gasped from the slight impact as he hugged you. you were crying, you hadn’t even realized it until you tasted your salty tears but this, bill was hugging you. down in the dungeon, you weren’t sure if you’d ever experience this again. bill was the love of your life, and you had doubted you’d ever see him again.

bill looked at you, grabbing your face and planting kisses all over you, soot and all.

luna cleared her throat and you chuckled, turning to her, “darling, this is luna lovegood. luna, this is my husband, bill.” bill offered a smile and wave to luna and she smiled to herself, “i can see why you married him.” she mumbled and you turned to bill who was blushing. you held his waist, and kissed him, “i missed you so much, weasley.” you mumbled into his mouth. bill smirked, “right back at you, weasley.”

#harry potter imagines #hogwarts imagines #bill weasley angst #bill weasley fluff #bill weasley x reader #weasley imagine #weasley x reader #harry potter x reader #malfoy!reader #hogwarts angst

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tamurilofrivendell · 1 year

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Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 11

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10] Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care of Radagast, who is actually the ‘lost’ daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad. Taglist: @hufflepuff1700 @jinlizz-dragondrama @firelightinferno @bubbleyukismile @coopsgirl @achromaticerebus @sleepyamygdala @smalltownbigheart @qmabailor @genderfluid-anime-goth a/n: I’ve been a little behind on this one and I’m sorry!! My hyperfixation on another fic (and struggling to try and force myself to edit two first drafts of original novels) has made me blind to everything else which was obviously unintended when I started this, but I still have the outline in my drafts and I will finish it don’t worry.

The forest was quiet as Thranduil and his elk travelled beneath the trees. He was furious. No, he was absolutely livid. Who did Radagast think he was? Stupid wizards, always meddling. Thranduil knew deep down that Radagast did not intend to cause him true pain but, once more, his mind was seriously fixated upon that day in Lindon. The day he had witnessed the princess and the two queens die. However, his fury also stemmed from something else, something that neither had said but was very much present in his mind.

“-help her as your father would have wanted - as your mother would have wanted.”

Thranduil knew very well how his parents would want him to help her, particularly his mother. They would wish him to give the princess sanctuary and aid, which he knew was the correct thing to do and he would do it, but they would also wish him to honour the terms of the marriage they had arranged between the two. To strengthen the bonds between the Noldor and Sindar even further, which had really been one of the only things the two queens had ever wanted.

Thranduil would not, of course, force the princess into anything but... he knew without even having to ask that Radagast was already thinking it and that he could be crafty in getting his way, perhaps he was feeding the princess the story right this moment. Thranduil knew, too, how such a thing could work in everyone’s favour and he knew that it would honour the memory of all four of their parents, and perhaps help this girl who had been secreted away for well over 3,000 years without any titles, her name practically lost to history.

However, the source of his anger was not directed at the poor princess herself, not at the idea of marrying a complete stranger, but at what such an alliance would take from him.

You.

He recalled his thoughts of how he had never taken a queen, when the Enchantress revealed to Radagast her ire at his father’s apparent sin against her by not allowing her to marry his son. He recalled how his mind had conjured up the image of you, singing in the glade while picking berries, and he realised now why the thoughts had come to him - because he had quite obviously developed some sort of feelings towards you.

Thranduil came then to the clearing where he often met you, sliding from the back of his elk with a sigh as he looked around and realised that you weren’t here as he had hoped you would be. He stepped to the side and sat down upon a fallen log, leaning forward with his hands clasped, sitting for a time just staring down at the forest floor.

“You look gloomy.”

Thranduil quickly lifted his head at the sound of your voice, looking up just in time to see you stepping into the clearing. He smiled. “It has been a very long week...”

“Ah, so that’s why you haven’t come to see me.” You trilled, moving to sit next to him. You didn’t mean it in a bad way, you were not hurt by it or anything, but something in you had missed him greatly. You had become quite charmed by him and enjoyed the times you could spend in his company.

Thranduil chuckled. “I do apologise, my lady.” Running a kingdom was busy, he thought ruefully, though he still did not say it. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just tell you. Truthfully, he didn’t know what you must think of him, but he knew for sure you did not know he was the Elvenking. Perhaps you thought him a guard.

A soft laugh escaped your lips and you shook your head. “You don’t need to be sorry. I have perhaps become too used to your company.”

Since that first day Thranduil had come across you here, singing with the animals, he had probably come a lot more than he would normally otherwise have walked the forest. Something had just continued to pull him to you, and he had been drawn to this clearing of yours a number of times as the weeks had passed you both by. Then it had seemed only natural, it had become routine. He only wished he had not had the stress of the Enchantress and the past clouding the meetings, though he supposed now perhaps he should stop coming... the thought saddened him.

“Besides.” You continued, shooting him an amused glance. “We’ll always have our dreams.”

Thranduil laughed then, the first one since Radagast came to his halls and told him all about his last meeting with the Enchantress. He was pleased you remembered, truthfully, his silly little joke from before. Once upon a dream.

“Yes.” He chuckled, reaching out to take hold of your hand. “So we shall!”

As he took your hand, you were both suddenly struck by a most peculiar feeling that went jolting through the both of you. It felt like a real, tangible thing, a bolt of lightning. You quickly snatched your hand back in surprise and Thranduil frowned down at his own in confusion. “Did you...?”

You nodded, glancing up at him curiously. “What was that?”

“I do not know.” Thranduil muttered, pulling his hand back as he considered. It could not be... could it? He lifted his gaze and found your eyes on him. He smiled softly. “Lothíriel, I... I have come to greatly enjoy your company over these last weeks, and I...”

Here he trailed off and you wanted to push him to continue but all speech seemed to have been taken from you somehow. The clearing was silent for a long few moments then, the birds in the trees above poking their curious beaks down through the leaves to hear the king’s confession.

“I find you absolutely enchanting.” He admitted, looking back up at you. “From the very first day I saw you, I think I just... knew.” It seemed unfathomable to say such a thing, but a lot of elves had felt that way through history. Why, his own father had looked once upon his mother and instantly loved her as if he simply always had. It was as if their souls had known each other before they even met... and Thranduil suddenly came to the realisation that if he married Gil-Galad’s daughter then he would forever regret leaving you in this forest. He would always think of you, he wouldn’t be able to move on. That would not be fair to her, or to you, or to himself.

“Knew... what?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper, as you blinked back at him. You did not have much experience with others, or feelings like you were beginning to have, other than Thranduil... but you did not need to, really, as it seemed to sort of be a kind of instinctual thing.

Thranduil reached out to take your hand again, brushing his thumb gently over your palm. You shivered slightly and he lifted his gaze, meeting your eyes. “That I... that I am meant to love you.”

You could only stare at him in shock as the words passed his lips. “You... truly?!”

Thranduil nodded. “Truly.”

You were at a loss for what to say, not because you did not feel joyous or warm from the words he spoke, but simply because you were just no good at this. He did not seem to mind, almost as if he read what you were thinking in your eyes.

“Would you allow me the honour of courting you, my lady?” He ventured next.

You blinked at him, thinking that you should pinch yourself because it simply did not feel real. What could this interesting, worldly warrior possibly see in you?! Some random elleth who barely had any social skills the day he met her. You cast your mind over the time since then - every smile and lingering look - and you nodded, practically beaming at him. “Yes! I... I would like that very much.”

His smile grew slightly and you watched as he stood from the fallen log and extended an arm towards you.

“Dance with me.” He said suddenly, taking hold of your hands and pulling you to your feet.

You laughed and let yourself be pulled, and there in the clearing where you first met, you and he danced beneath the swaying blossom trees while the animals watched on.

That evening, you returned to the cottage with the brightest smile on your face. Your cheeks were rosy red and a blackbird was sitting atop your hair as you burst into the little house, causing Radagast to jump in the air and turn around very abruptly from his place at the counter. You were humming as you walked towards him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Good evening!” You smiled brightly as the blackbird jumped from your head down to the table. “Do you need any help?”

“What’s got you in such high spirits?” Radagast wondered. Why, you were practically floating!

A gleeful giggle escaped you as you reached for him, taking hold of his hands and pulling him into a little waltz across the kitchen floor. His steps were clumsy in contrast to your smooth ones but he couldn’t help but chuckle anyway, glad to see you happy... and safe. He had allowed you into the forest, though not without much back and forth in his own mind. However, he knew that soon you would be in Thranduil’s halls and would not have the same freedoms to visit your favourite places in this forest. Not until the Enchantress was gone.

You were humming as you danced with him and then you pulled back, smiling brightly at him as he watched you with curious eyes. “Oh, you’ll never guess!” You said, still a little nervous of his reaction but you knew that now was the time to tell him. “Wait until you meet him!”

“Him?” Radagast’s smile began to fade a little as he tilted his head at you. “What do you mean? Who? You have met some stranger?”

You shook your head, spinning on the spot once and then coming to a stop as you looked back the wizard. “Oh, no! No, he’s not a stranger. I mean... not anymore.” You clasped your hands together, truly hoping that Radagast would come to understand. “I have met him many times now, in the clearing. I should have told you, I’m sorry, but he is honourable. I swear. He wishes to court me, uncle! I promise, you do not have to worry! He’s coming tomorrow night, you can meet him and-”

Radagast, however, looked stricken. “Oh, my dear child...” He said sadly. “Oh, no... no. That can never be.”

You paused, your smile falling away, replaced by a soft frown. “What do you mean? Why not?”

“Well, you... you are already betrothed, my dear.” He said quickly. “From birth. To... to the Elvenking.”

“What?!” You could not understand his words because they quite simply made no sense. “No... h-how can I marry a king? I would have to be...”

“A princess.” Radagast said simply, watching the confusion on your face grow tenfold. “You are a princess.” He continued. “And I am sorry for keeping the truth from you but it was necessary. Please... listen to me.”

Radagast’s brow set into a deep frown as he looked back at you, the crestfallen look on your face, the hurt swimming in your eyes. Still, you didn’t run away and shut yourself in your room like you wished to. You stayed standing firmly before him as you waited for him to continue, to give you some explanation, willing him to make this all make sense.

Radagast sighed, his heart heavy with sorrow, for he knew that the time had now come to tell you everything.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfic #lotr x reader #thranduil fanfiction #sleeping beauty

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welcome-back-to-hoimycraf · 2 months

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Winter had always been Scott’s favorite time of year. Don’t get him wrong, Rivendell was always great, but the mixture of festivities and weather made a soft spot in his heart. The decorations, the drinks, the food, the celebrations, it was truly so joyful. Getting to see the other empires covered in the snow Rivendell had year-round was also a bonus. Well- except maybe the Cod Empire.

When Jimmy had confided that he’d never really experienced snow before, being farther north than most other kingdoms, Scott was baffled. How could you live without feeling the frost chill the air at least once in your life? At Scott’s appalled expression, the cod had explained that he never really had an excuse to visit somewhere with snow, seeing as his only allies lived so close- other than Scott.

So that’s what brought them to the small lake on the Rivendell border. They would’ve stayed closer to town, but the only water accessible there were the terrace ponds, which weren’t quite big enough for what they had in mind. Plus, being out of the public eye soothed Jimmy’s nerves a bit. The avian was sympathetic; learning to skate for the first time could be embarrassing when surrounded by people.

As the two approached the ice, Jimmy started to figet- well, more than usual. Scott raised an eyebrow at the cod. “That nervous?”

Jim stuttered out a laugh as he tucked more hair behind his fins. “Kinda?”

The elf quickly passed over a ribbon for the other man’s hair, which he accepted with a surprised thanks. “Don’t be. We’ve all been there, it just takes some practice. You’ll get the hang of it.”

The Codfather rolled his eyes as he tied a bun that quickly fell apart. “Yeah, I’ll take your word for it, Mister Ice-Prince.”

“King,” he corrected. As Jim let out a light apology, Scott hummed in thought before landing on an idea. “Here, I’ll tell you a story. Would that make you feel better?”

That seemed to peak the blonde’s interest as he stopped re-tying his hair, causing it to fall back into his face. Scott giggled and Jimmy blew the strands out of his eyes. “Yeah?”

They’d made it to the edge of the ice, so they took it as an opportunity to exchange their boots for skates while Scott talked.

“Y’know, the first time me and my-” The elf paused for a second before continuing, “... sibling learned to skate, we both did pretty bad.”

Jim only huffed playfully as he struggled to tie the laces. “Hard to imagine you doing anything wrong first try.”

Scott smirked. “Why, thank you!” The man brought a hand up to his chest, putting on a smug expression. “I know I'm perfect.”

One light slap to the arm and some bickering later, the avian continued, “Well, we did. I almost cut their fingers off with the blades!” Scott snickered at the memory. Xornoth’s screech and the subsequent play-fight would always be a good memory for him to look back on. Though, it seemed like Jimmy thought otherwise. The cod looked absolutely horrified.

“You can do that?” He shouted in disbelief.

Scott shook his head in an attempt to reassure Jim before he backed out of this all together. “No, of course not!” He paused. “Not that I know of.”

“Hey!”

It took a bit of coaxing to get the fish on the ice while he complained the whole time. Something about freezing his gills off or something, Scott wasn’t really paying attention as he made sure Jimmy didn’t fall.

The couple made their way to the center with no lack of wobbling and yelping thanks to the newbie skater, Scott making fun of the blonde’s lack of grace or dignity the whole way. He stopped them in the center, making sure to give them a good bit of space to work with.

“So, Jim,” he said, grabbing the Codfather’s attention away from griping, “The first lesson of skating you have to learn-” Scott broke out in a mischievous grin as he let go of Jimmy’s hands and watched the man scramble to keep his purchase, “-is how to balance!”

“WAAHHHH- SCOTT!” He yelled, eyeing the elf’s graceful circles around the lake. Scott only giggled and made a sharp U-turn, completely just to show off. It was laughable, the difference between the two. With Scott’s smooth gliding and Jimmy’s slipping like a newborn calf, they must’ve looked like quite the pair.

Scott took a bit longer to tease his partner before going in to help before anyone got hurt and started to actually teach the man how to do it properly. It took a bit of guiding and praise, but Jimmy soon got the hang of it. Well, only if he held tightly to Scott’s arm the whole time, but neither of them were complaining. Before long, they got into the rhythm of the ice. It was like a dance: left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, spin. Scott wordlessly thanked the dancing lessons he’d been forced into as a kid for finally having a use all this time later.

So of course, they got comfortable. That was before a sharp bang rang out. It echoed through the trees and empty snow, most likely scaring off any animals nearby as well as the two on the ice. Scott made the move to stop them abruptly, pausing to listen out for anything he could identify as the cause of the noise.

It only took a few ticks before Jimmy got anxious, not being able to take the tense atmosphere any longer. “Scott?”

“Shh!” He warned, lowering his voice,” I don’t-”

That was the last he could do as he watched Jimmy try to turn and get a better look at the elf and figure out what the hell was going on. The sharp noises started up again and Scott finally recognized what they were. Cracking .

Panic rushed through him. Sure, he’d probably be fine- but Jimmy wasn’t used to this kind of water. He’d freeze for sure. Scott gripped Jimmy’s hand to pull him out of his stupor and onto solid ground. “Jim- we have to go!”

“What’s happening?” The cod yelled in panic.

Scott barely even had time to turn and explain hurriedly before the cracking got louder. The two could only watch as the thin lines moved to the underneath of their feet, stopping only for a second, then giving way beneath their weight. They plunged into the frigid water with nothing but a yell to let the empty woods know of their disappearance.

Thankfully, Scott wasn't very fazed by the temperature. His heavy clothes were mostly for style rather than function, and the cold never really bothered him anyway, so he was able to keep to his senses. Though, Jimmy wasn’t as lucky. It was clear that the shock had gotten to him quickly as he sank to the depths, leaving Scott to do all the hard work himself.

The Rivendelian groaned as he hoisted Jimmy back to the surface, panting heavily while dragging them both back on the ice. Shouldn’t the universe know he wasn’t cut out for this kind of labor?

Scott looked back over to where Jimmy lay on the frozen surface, unmoving besides his harsh shivering, and sighed. Things always had to go wrong, didn’t they?

It took a while to tread back to the castle, and less for the servants to whisk them inside for a warm bath and new, dry clothes. Before long, the two were cuddled up in Scott’s small apartment he’d built behind the main castle, sipping hot chocolate and huddling for warmth. Well, Jimmy was huddling for warmth that Scott wasn’t allowing him, given his cold nature.

“Jim, you’re gonna set yourself alight if you keep getting closer,” the elf warned as Jimmy edged closer to the fireplace.

All he got in response was a pathetic whine that broke Scott’s heart a bit. “But I’m colddddd…”

“I know,” he sighed, “and I’m sorry your first time skating turned out so bad.”

Jim sniffed, most likely due to his runny nose. “Issokay. Not your fault.”

The cod leaned over to rest his head on Scott’s shoulder before shivering and highly regretting that decision, so they decided to put a layer of blanket between them to help with that. Scott bent and pressed a kiss to Jimmy’s crown- a silent apology.

Quiet passed between them for what seemed like hours when the almost audible sound of Scott getting an idea broke it. “What if I take the next few days off to make it up to you?”

The Codfather smirked at that. “Hmm…” he started in fake thought, “I guess that might work.” He shrugged.

Scott flicked his cheek, getting a yelp and some choice words out of the cod.

In the back of his mind, he started making plans of what he might do to get Jim’s spirit back up.

#my fanfic #fanfic #empiresfic #empires smp #empires s1 #empiresshipping #flower husbands #jimmy solidarity #the codfather #scott smajor #scott of rivendell

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