#bard: held. bard: in my hands. bard: against me

[lanternlightss]

bard and his bird :)

BARD AND HIS BIRD 💕💕 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh the expressions are so incredibly delightful, the half-lidded eyes + little >:3 + BLUSHIES bard has is so darling. like ehehe …. being leaned on…. i have become the perch 😌…. AND HIS HANDS ON HIPS he’s so silly. absolute silliest

THE WAY VENTI SQUISHES IS ALSO 🥺💕💕 him so HAPPYYY head. on !!! my bard <3. warm and comfy and lovely. this is the life !! the big :3 of venti oh he is in heaven. above the clouds. perfect place to rest has been found no need to look for more i fear !!

RHEYRE SO CUTESY …

[lotmoon]

Hiii! About your post about making request! Can you please do one about first time with venven? Something soft amd messy but spicy!

I have been thinking about this for a while and couldint find any recent good fanfic about it, and theres too little too 😔

Its my first time requesting something sorry if it sound strange ����

Really like your writing too, youre very cool!

Thank you for this lovely request dear! And thank you for the compliments. ♡

You were so beautiful. So perfect. So delicate and so pure. A god’s favorite angel. With the shiny moonlight hitting your delicate curve of your body and pretty face, with the way your body snuggled against the blanket like you were the most innocent thing in the world. You catched his breath away every time your eyes met each other.

He was a bard who wrote verses for centuries but he couldn’t find the words to describe you. No matter how hard he tried to express his love and devotion to you like a worshipper held for their god, no other language no other song described how much you meant to him. You were his everything, his little archon heart was in your hands, and he had no intention to have it back. Your fingerprints were all over his soul and he had no intention to wash them off.

You were cuddling in your shared bedroom like usual after a long day as he moved closer to you and moved a strand of hair away from your face with shaky hands, scared to hurt you in any way. “Venti..” You mumbled and turned your body towards him. Stretching your body up slightly. “Yes precious..?” He asked with a quiet gentle voice, like lulling you to sleep.

You snuggled closer to him and gently put a finger on his slightly revealed archon mark. Tracing the mark on his chest gently with a feather like touch. You could feel his chest flutter and his skin got warmer under your touch. You heard his breath hitch and he let out a shaky exhale. “I was thinking… why do you like me tracing your archon marks..?” You asked with that innocent curious voice of yours.

He grabbed your hand that was tracing his mark and moved it closer to his soft lips, planting little kisses on your knuckles one by one. “Oh, Windblume… My windblume..” he murmured and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to himself. “There’s… A truth that all god knows. And it’s that… humans only praise or love their archons just because they want their god’s favor. Because there’s something they desire from the god, not because they desire the god itself. I’ve realised that the moment I descended to be a god. No one desires a company of a god.”

He stopped talking for a moment, looking into your pretty eyes and putting your hand on his mark on his chest again. Closing his eyes like he was relieved to feel your touch on his mark. “But with you… İt’s different… You do know that I am a god… but you still love me, praise me as a god… Trace those marks of my not because you want me to do something… but because you love me, not only as Venti but as Barbatos too.” He let out a shaky exhale. His hand moving to cup your cheek with a shaky hand.

“You don’t know what it does to me. You have no idea of how it makes me feel, you treating me like this. I thought no one could ever do that, treating a god as their lover but you did… İt feels good…I have no idea how to explain that in other way… İt feels really good…” He said with a quiet shaky vulnerable voice. Looking into your eyes with a look you can’t even describe.

You moved your other hand up and cupped his cheek gently, rubbing your thumb against his cheek lovingly.. looking into his eyes with affection and care. “I love you… Barbatos…” You murmured. His eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. He let out short gasps and his eyes narrowed. He cupped both of your cheeks and looked deeply into your eyes.

“İt’s not fair… You calling me Barbatos right after I told you that… Darling it’s not fair..” He whispered with an breathy voice, his face inches away from you.

You closed the distance and captured his soft lips into a gentle kiss. He moved his lips back in a sync against yours and you occasionally broke the kiss to gasp for air before diving to each other back in. Your lips, were softer and sweeter than any fine dandelion wine he ever tasted… Your voice and gasps were every so angelic… He wanted more. More of you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his. His breath hitched and his kisses got sloppy and messy. “Windblume..” He called out between sloppy kisses and short gasps. You felt hot and bothered, it was one of the times you guys get this closer. But this time, you wanted so much more. You wanted to be even more closer with him, to be one with him. To feel his divine presence closer as possible as you could. To be in a loving presence of a god. You wrapped your leg around his slim waist and your kisses got deep. “Windblume stop.” He called out the moment he broke the kiss.

You looked at him with dumbfounded expression. Looking into his eyes in search of any discomfort. “Are you sure?.. You want this?” He asked with gently and caringly, caressing your hips in a soothing and comforting way. Looking into your eyes with a gentle expression. You let ou a sigh and planted a soft kiss on his lips. “My love… My beloved god… I’ve wanted this for so long… I like this..” you murmured against his lips.

He let out a shaky exhale and captured your lips in a heated deep kiss. He moved on top of you and pinned your hands next to your head and moved his leg between your leg, pressing against your clothened core. You let out a soft little moan against his lips and you felt him gulp.

His own touch became more and more possessive, his fingers tightened against your hands gently. His eyes… oh his eyes were so desperate, so loving as he looked at you, your hands in his hand, your body so close to his… He needed more of you, he wanted all of you… The Anemo Archon yearned for you…

One of his hand moved from your hand down towards your dress and traced the outside of your nipples through the fabric, making you let out a soft mewl. “I know darling.. I know…” He shushed you. You ran your hands through his soft dark hair and ran your nails against his scalp.

His breathing deepend as he felt her nails against his scalp, his hands roaming down your back and squeezing you closer. His other hand began to wander up your thigh, lifting your dress up as you continued to make out. You lifted the leg he was touching and moved your leg up to his waist as he slightly lifted your dress up. You parted your lips against his to give his tongue access to your warm mouth, you moaned softly and your hand gripped his hair gently.

Venti whimpered against your mouth, his hand sliding up your thigh and under your skirt. He found the hem of your underwear and began to slowly pull it down, his fingers brushing against your skin gently. You shivered cutely when the air hit your bare, wet core when he slowly pulled your white laced pretty pantie down. You grinded against nothing shamelessly, moaning against his lips.

Your body shivered and your back arched towards him slightly as he slowly slide his hand back up your inner thighs. She blushed heavily and let put a soft moan and a adorable whimper as he planted kisses along your sensitive pretty neck and shoulder. His hands finally reach your inner thighs, his fingers slowly spreading them wider. He kissed along your collarbone, his hot breath fanning across your sensitive skin. "Windbloom... Spread your legs a little more for me.” He said gently.

You let out a soft whimper and spread your smooth pretty legs apart on the bed more for his hands. You shivered as air hit your bare pussy. Your sweet slick sipping out through your walls as his hands moved closer to your core. You buried your face into his neck and waited impatiently for him to do his next move.

He swallows hard as your legs spread wider, baring your wet center. His fingers slide closer to your core, parting your soft folds. He can feel you getting wetter by the second, his Windbloom so responsive to his touch. One finger slowly slides in, checking your tightness. "Windbloom…" He called out. You let out a aroused moan as he parted your folds and slided one of his cloused finger into your tight, warm and wet hole. You squirmed against his finger and grinded softly. letting out needy moans as your lips parted slightly. she looked like an angel on the bed like this…

He curled his finger inside you, hitting that spot that drives you crazy. He can feel you getting wetter around his finger, your inner walls quivering. He adds another finger, slowly stretching you out. "Look at me, Angel..." He whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. You let out a deep moan and your legs shoke slightly when he curled his finger inside you and whimpered, your arousal dripping on his hand and fingers as he added another one and stretched your tight sweet hole. You looked at him innocently through her fluttering lashes adorably with neediness.

His emerald eyes lock onto yours, filled with love and desire. He can see the innocence mixed with neediness in your eyes, it drives him crazy. He slowly pumps his two fingers in and out of you, curling them up each time to hit that spot. "Wind..." He pumps his fingers faster, curling them up to hit that spot over and over again. His other hand reaches up to squeeze your breast, his thumb circling your hard nipple. "That's it, my sweet cecilia..."

You let out a soft cry and loud moans as he pumped his fingers fastly. You bit down on his neck when he squeezed your round breast, teased your hard pink delicious nipple. ”V-Venti, I-I am gonna-“ You cried out. His breath catches in his throat at the feel of your teeth on his neck, marking him. He knows you’re close, your tight pussy clamping down on his fingers. He adds a third finger, stretching you open wide. "Come for me, Windbloom. Right here on our bed..."

You let out a loud moan and your back arched against him, your gorgeous body pressing up against him as he added a third finger inside your sweet pussy. Tears fell down from your pretty eyes and you threw your head back. ”..A-Ah~! T-Too much-!” You sobbed out. He watches in awe as you come undone in front of him, your tight pussy squeezing his fingers so perfectly. He doesn't stop, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you, drawing out your orgasm. He leans down and sucks a mark onto your collarbone, branding you as his.

You let out a adorable loud whimper as he marked you as his and you let out a loud moans as he continued to move his fingers fastly inside you. ”I-I am gonna- AH~!” You came hard all over his fingers and bed as you threw your head back and your legs shoke furiously. Moaning softly and deliciously.

He groans at the feeling of you coming so intensely on his fingers it sends shivers down his own spine. He slows his fingers, gently easing you down from your high. He brings his wet fingers to his mouth, sucking your sweet juices clean. You looked at him hazily and your eyes widened with embarrassment and shyness as he sucked your sweet nectar arousal clean off of his fingers. You blushed heavily and looked away shyly. Your gorgeous naked body trembling on the bed..

He stood up and slowly and sets himself between your shaky legs. He caresses his length and looked down at you with love and affection. You looked up at him through your long pretty eyelashes shyly, your legs trembling and you were covering her pretty mouth with your pretty hands.

He smiles softly at your shyness, his heart swelling with love for you. He gently pushes your hands away from her mouth, kissing you softly. "I love you, Windbloom." He whispers, his voice filled with emotion. He slowly pushes into your still trembling pussy…

Author note: I am so sad, Venti didn’t come home… (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

[yourlittlegoblin]

{Strokes of Genius} Albedo x Reader

OMG guys I am so sorry for not like making any proper posts on her for like such a long while Ive been like going through the blues for a bit and now I'm like dumping my writing here during the 2 weeks that I have left for total freedom so guys yea-

Also guys if you go to my blog you can send me commissions where I can write you some headcanons or drabbles about certain characters! I'm also more than happy to write little fanfics about you or your ocs in romantic or platonic situations with these characters! Or if you want just comment your requests under my posts :)

Hope you enjoy!!

The sun had just started its lazy descent behind the peaks of Dragonspine, casting long amber streaks over the wooden table where Albedo sat, brush in hand, carefully working on his latest painting.

You sat across from him, legs tucked up on the bench, hands wrapped around a chipped mug of still-warm tea. It was quiet save for the occasional chirp of a bird or the gentle scratch of bristles on canvas.

“And then he had the audacity to say he could outdrink Kaeya,” you said, eyes widening for emphasis. “I mean, sure, he was new in town, but seriously. Kaeya.”

Albedo’s lips curved upward, just a little. “I suppose optimism is a form of bravery.”

You grinned. “Yeah, well, the guy passed out before the bard even started his second song. Rosaria had to carry him out by the collar like a wet cat.”

“That sounds... memorable.” His tone was dry, but fond.

“It was hilarious,” you said, laughing lightly. “Sometimes I think working in the tavern is just free front-row tickets to a circus. Anyway, Klee came in the next morning asking if she could buy ‘two bottles of boom juice,’ which I’m pretty sure is illegal, and I told her no, and she pouted the entire time until Kaeya distracted her with a shiny spoon.”

Albedo hummed thoughtfully, his eyes still fixed on the canvas. “She mentioned wanting to upgrade her bombs last week. I suppose that’s what the boom juice was for.”

“Probably,” you said, chuckling. “Though I kind of don’t want to know what she was planning to do with it. The last time she upgraded something, we almost lost an entire section of the wine cellar.”

Silence settled between you again—comfortable, not awkward. You glanced over the table, curiosity prickling at the edges of your mind.

“So... what are you painting, anyway?” you asked, craning your neck to see. From your angle, all you could catch were soft strokes of cool colors, the familiar swirl of blues and whites, golds and greens blending together.

Albedo didn’t even look up. “Just the environment.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward. “Boring.”

He finally glanced up at you, one brow raised, his lips twitching like he was fighting a smile. “Is that your professional critique?”

“Absolutely,” you said, sipping your tea with faux seriousness. “From the esteemed Y/n of the Mondstadt Gossiper’s Guild.”

“That explains the tavern stories,” he said, setting down his brush.

“I’m building an empire, Albedo.”

“I’m sure you are.”

You shared a look—something lingering and soft, a thread of something unspoken in the way his eyes held yours for a moment longer than necessary, the way his fingers brushed a bit of stray paint from his knuckles.

But neither of you said anything more.

Until you stood up.

“Well,” you stretched your arms overhead with a yawn, “I should probably get go—whoa—!”

Your foot caught on a small stone jutting out from the path, and everything lurched forward. You barely had time to gasp before Albedo dropped his brush and reached out instinctively. His arms caught you around the waist—but gravity had other plans. You tumbled forward, landing right in his lap with a surprised “oof,” your hands braced against his chest, his eyes wide and startled beneath you.

For a moment, everything was still. His hands were still at your sides, your face inches from his, and both your hearts were very, very loud.

You blinked. “Hi.”

“…Hello,” he replied quietly, voice slightly breathless.

Your cheeks were burning, and you could feel the heat radiating off his face too. Then, as if fate itself wanted to make things worse—or better—the edge of the easel tilted from the sudden movement. The painting slipped, landing with a soft thud beside you.

Your eyes drifted to the canvas.

“Oh,” you said, blinking.

It wasn’t the environment.

It was you.

Mid-laugh, mug in hand, completely caught up in your own story. Your eyes were bright, hair a little messy from the wind, your expression alive and utterly unaware of being watched—captured with such careful, delicate strokes, as if the person painting you saw something worth preserving.

“…Albedo,” you whispered, looking back at him, your voice barely audible.

He looked away, flustered. “I thought… you wouldn’t sit still if I told you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. “You were painting me this whole time?”

“I always paint what I find… interesting,” he said softly, eyes meeting yours again—and this time, he didn’t look away.

You swallowed, suddenly shy.

He was still holding you. You were still in his lap.

And somehow… neither of you moved.

Albedo finally let out a breath, his hands still lightly resting at your waist as if afraid you’d vanish.

“I… think I’ve been showing symptoms,” he said suddenly, eyes flickering to yours with all the seriousness of a man presenting a lab result.

You blinked. “Symptoms?”

He nodded, almost nervously. “A fluttering sensation in my stomach whenever our hands brush. A desire to hold them longer. An increasing preference for your presence. I’ve caught myself prioritizing your laughter over the ambient sounds of my surroundings. I… want to be near you. I want to see you smile. I want to do the things people in relationships do—hand-holding, shared meals, forehead kisses, apparently spontaneous dancing in moonlight is a thing—”

You leaned in and kissed him.

Just like that.

A soft, sudden press of lips that made him freeze—and then melt. His eyes fluttered shut as his hands curled around your waist like he didn’t dare let go, as if he wanted to memorize the feeling of you there, so close and so real.

And then it deepened—tentative touches turning into something hungrier, more sure, like both of you were making up for every unspoken word and stolen glance. One of his hands slid up your back, and yours tangled in his hair—

“KLEE’S HERE!!”

You practically launched off him, your cheeks on fire as you scrambled to your feet. Albedo sat there, stunned and blinking like someone had just yanked him from a dream.

Klee came skipping down the path, her little arms flailing with excitement. “Albedo! Albedo! Guess what I found—oh, hi Y/N!”

You turned to her with a grin, tucking your hair back like you weren’t seconds away from a lap-induced near make-out. “Hi, sunshine! What did you find?”

Klee giggled, launching into a ramble about fish and bombs and something she wasn’t technically allowed to do, while you crouched to listen, casting Albedo a sneaky side glance.

He was still sitting there, a little dazed.

You turned back to him mid-Klee monologue and whispered behind your hand, “What you’re feeling, by the way? Romantic attraction.”

He blinked slowly. “Oh.”

“You wanna go on a date?”

A pause. Then a soft, breathless nod.

“Good,” you said, straightening up and ruffling Klee’s hair. “Now. Tell me everything.”

And just like that, you slipped right back into the rhythm—effortlessly cool, cheerful, like your heart hadn’t just been laid bare under Mondstadt’s sky.

Albedo just watched you with that soft, slow-burning smile of his.

Maybe “symptoms” wasn’t the right word after all.

Maybe he’d just caught feelings. And maybe—just maybe—you had too.

[featherlight-touches]

KIWIII THIS IS JUST A SILLY THING and you don't have to reply since it's not a fic request but like, please whenever you're up for it do the paralogism quest IM ON MY KNEES there's totally material for lee dahlia because,, him and venti are very, VERY close friends,,,

I just finished it and I'm like thinking about so many things at once (lee Albedo, lee dahlia... free me this instant,,,)

SHIOOOOO, hellooooo OK HEAR ME OUT. I did the quest and I love them all, Dahlia and Venti being besties means everything to me. The ideas, I have too many Shio!! Here have some!!

(╯°□°)╯★・・・★

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

Venti and Dahlia sat together within the cozy Angel Share’s tavern, as it buzzed with sounds of lively chatter and merriment from the patrons inside. Despite the loudness, it was truly a warm atmosphere.

Both had their favorite drink of choice and decided to sit away from the bar area itself, mainly due to the insistence of Master Diluc, but also because it was much easier to talk to each other.

“Dahliaaa~” Venti sang as he held out his empty glass towards the Deacon. “Please help me, my wine seems to have vanished.”

Dahlia raised a brow to his friend and sighed. “That’s hardly a mystery, Venti. That’s the third glass you’ve inhaled in the past ten minutes.”   

“Ehe, technically my fourth.” Venti held up his fingers, which counted five, but Dahlia didn’t bother to correct the drunken bard. “If you count the apple cider that the generous knight gave me.”

“Ah, yes, that’s right. Perhaps you should drink some water instead?” Dahlia kindly suggested, unable to hide his amusement at how animated Venti became with the more drinks he consumed.

At this suggestion, Venti gave a long, entertained laugh. “That’s a good one, my dear friend. But we both know that wine tastes much better.”

“We also know that you have no filter once you drink enough of it.”

“I don’t know what you meeean, you know I can easily hold my drinks just fine. I am an expert after all!” Venti boasted, his loud voice carrying over to the other tables, drawing amused glances from other patrons.

“Not so loud, Venti. You’re competing with other guests,” Dahlia chuckled, putting a finger to his lips. But Venti was far too gone in his merriment, scooting closer until he was leaning against Dahlia, almost tipping them both over with his body weight.

“Come on, Dahliaaa~ you need to lighten up!” Venti had a mischievous twinkle in his eye as his arms wrapped their way around the Deacon. Dahlia held onto the bard, assuming that he was just going in for a friendly hug but jolted in surprise when he felt fingers digging into his sides.

“Ah! V-Venti! Pfft – noho, no!” Dahlia grabbed onto the bard’s wrists to stop them and pushed them closer to Venti. “Stop being silly!”

“But you love when I’m silly!” Venti giggled, trying to free his hands from Dahlia’s grip but he held on tight.

“Not in the middle of the tavern!” Dahlia kept hold of Venti’s wrist and placed both their hands down on the bench between them, glaring playfully into his eyes. “Behave.”

Venti’s expression was a look of challenge and Dahlia knew that if he were to release those hands, he would be in for more trouble. He tried to scoot further back along the bench but no matter how far he did, Venti only followed, closing the distance once again.

It wasn’t long until Dahlia’s back reached the wall, and Venti followed him all the way. Their hands still together Dahlia felt nervous, but giggles already escaped him at his predicament.

“Stohop!”

“I’m not doing anything~”

“But you’re planning it!”

“Nuh-uh. See? My hands are trapped. I can’t do anything like this, can I?”

He had a point, but Dahlia was still suspicious and was determined to wait out this devilish mood the Anemo Archon had taken.

But suddenly, Dahlia startled out a laugh when he felt something ticklish brush against his neck. “Whahat was that?”

He tried to crane his head to see but couldn’t find any traces of the source. He looked back at Venti with an accusing frown, but Venti stared back with innocent smile. He was definitely up to something.

“Venti.”

“Dahlia.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing~” But as soon as he said those words, Dahlia felt that same ticklish sensation as before, but this time, on the other side of his neck, up to his pointed ears.

“Hehehe!” Dahlia burst into loud giggles, releasing Venti’s hands in favor to protect his neck and ear from what ever was tickling them. When he reached up, he grabbed onto a feather, one made completely from Anemo. “You-”

Before Dahlia could even register his mistake, he was back to laughing uncontrollably as Venti’s now freed hands were glued to Dahlia’s sides and tummy, squeezing.

“Venti - nohoho!” Dahlia squirmed and tried to curl up on himself and somehow managed to rest his head onto Venti’s shoulder while the bard tickled him silly.

“Isn’t it more fun to let loose, Dahlia?” Venti asked, delighted at how hard his Herald was laughing. “Now how about another drink?”

“Fihihine, fine!” Dahlia gasped between laughs, giving a grateful sigh of relief when Venti finally stopped his tickles, and instead wrapped an arm across his shoulder instead.

“Ehe! Uh, all merriment aside, could you buy the next rounds too?”

Dahlia sighed. “Yes, my dear friend.”   

[bouncybongfairy]

Not A Peep

Simon (Ghost) Riley x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: You're a medic on Task Force 141 and Ghost finds out you have a thing for him when you get flustered stitching him up. Once you guys get back to the barracks, he fucks your throat under a desk.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Dom Ghost, Face Fucking, Rough Smut, BJ Under Desk

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was easy to separate yourself from all the stories being told while studying to be a combat medic. Tales about women falling for soldiers and then being immortally traumatized from watching the war take its effect on him. Whether it be emotionally or physically, the horror stories were gruesome. One teacher talked about how she had to treat her fiance after he’d been shot in the arm, apparently it fucked her up for a while. In a way, you would mock the fact that anyone would put themselves in that situation. Falling in love with someone with such a high risk job. It seemed like common sense not to put your heart on the line, especially when it could affect your job. 

That was until I met Simon and you started to understand that those wives tales weren’t so far fetched. The two of you didn’t talk much but it always felt like there was so much tension. Constantly making eye contact, becoming flustered and tongue tied whenever he spoke to you. Avoiding him when you could, not liking the feeling of your heart racing when you did. He held so much emotion in his eyes, like he was projecting his thoughts through eye contact. On a recent mission, a bullet brushed past the area above his hip bone; creating a laceration that needed stitches. Barding into the tent and pulling his pants down and shedding his gear.

 Immediately you get on your knees, pulling everything you needed to treat him out of your tactical vest. Looking up just before starting the first stitch, he was already looking down at you. His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were narrowed onto you. Blood was running down, trailing down the contour of his v-line. Hands started shaking slightly, especially as he started to moan and curse in pain. Even though you were fully aware his reaction was from discomfort, you couldn’t but imagine if it… wasn’t. 

He was watching you like a hawk, swiveling his head to watch you whenever you grabbed gauze. All hope that he didn’t notice you acting flustered was ditched when you started feeling dizzy, swaying a little. He grabbed your arm to prevent you from falling, your partner taking over. Now back in the barracks, you took a long hot shower. Trying to figure out why you got so in your head, the water began to run cold. Prompting you to get out and get dressed, walking back into your room. Ghost who was stripped of gear, laying back on the bed supporting his weight with his elbows. 

“Do you need me to redress that for you?” you asked, assuming he was waiting to see you about his wound. 

“No. Do you need me to undress you?” he asked, sitting up. 

“I- What?” you asked, taken off guard. 

“Do you. Need me to. Undress you?” he asked slower, like you were too dumb to answer the question. 

“I don’t understand-” you began saying. 

“No no, I saw you today. The way your eyes widened when you were on your knees in front of me. The desperation and neediness was so potent I could practically smell it on you. I could have taken you right there if I wanted, forced myself into your throat. So hot and bothered you couldn’t even do your job, I consume your thoughts. Don’t act like I don’t” he said, backing you against the desk that was in the corner. 

“I don’t-” he interrupted. 

“Wanna say something you regret,” he said, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Dipping it into your mouth, feeling around to see your reaction, “I think it safe to say that if you didn’t want my cock, you wouldn’t be sucking my finger like a whore. Would you?” he asks, you shake your head and in response he gives you a sharp smack on the cheek.

“Would you?” he asks again, giving you a chance to correct your answer. 

“Yes sir,” you say, melting at the way he looked at you. 

“Good girl, get under the desk.” He said, which you did without hesitation. 

He unzipped his fly, struggling for a second to free his member but finally got there. Sitting down in the office chair, rolling into the small space under the desk. Completely trapping you inside the small space. No longer being able to see above his shoulders, not that it mattered when his cock was right in front of you. Every time your lips finally encased his tip, he would use his hand and pull it away. You reach up and try to take his length into your hand. His voice booming through the room as he pulls away a couple inches to look you in the eyes. 

“Put your fucking hand down, you haven’t done anything to deserve it,” he said, scooting back in, using his hand to guide your head down. 

After all the teasing, the feelings of his cock pushing past your lips felt like heaven. Ever since you met him all you could think about was him ravaging you. Using your body for whatever he wanted. A loud groan coming from the back of your throat, his other hand was stroking your cheek. Slowly starting to push your head down further, you gagged which made him chuckle. 

“Fuck, I knew i’d eventually have you gagging around my dick,” he cooed, letting his head fall back. You looked up, now being able to see his exposed jawline. Reaching your hand down and starting to play with yourself. Spreading your wetness around and circling your clit. Moaning as drool and pre-cum started sliding down his shaft. He grabbed your hair and starting to fuck your mouth. His eyes were rolling back, feeling feral hearing the wet slobbering and slapping sounds. There was a knock at the door which made you squeal and try to pull away. 

“Shhhhh!” He hisses before clearing his throat and answering the door. However just before he does, he presses your head down, applying pressure with both hands on the back of your head. Forcing your lips all the way down to the base of his cock. 

“Yeah!” he yelled, Soap opened the door but remained in the doorway. 

“Have you seen y/n? We have training soon,” Soap asked while you were digging your fingernails into his boots, swallowing around his length which hurt slightly.

“Yeah, I think she went to get some fresh air,” Ghost said, stars were forming in your vision. Soap thanked him and promptly exited and Ghost finally let you pull back. Gasping for air and wiping the tears out of your eyes. He moaned as the cold air hit his dick just after getting used to your hot throat. 

“That’s a good girl, just breathe. Yeah, you’re a such a good fucking girl,” he snarled and pulled you back down on you. 

He stood up and balled his fist in your hair, and pinning his hands onto the top of the desk. Essentially locking you into place and he obliterated your throat. Making sure your nose was pressed into his base with every thrust. Not bothering to pull his cock out as he started came. Warm cum flooding down your throat and into your stomach. He pulled out, not wasting any time putting his dick away. You rested your upper body on the now empty chair that sat in front of you. Ghost squatted down and grabbed your wet chin to look up at him before speaking, 

“Firstly, you should thank me for feeding you before training. Secondly, I didn’t make you cum because you left scratch marks on my boot,” he said, walking out of the room.

[vixstarria]

Confession, Astarion POV 

This is the fluffiest thing I have ever written (or, most likely, will ever write). Consider yourself warned. Linked with my Astarion’s romance with bard Tav series, but very much a standalone as well. 

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, soft Astarion, Astarion POV 

Comfort, fluff, love confession, cuddling, banter, angst, non-explicit, no spoilers, tooth-rotting sweetness (after the first few paragraphs anyway)

Approximately 1,000 words 

AO3

You were back in the dungeons. Darkness. Filth. The dreaded cold and the stench of old blood. He was there, as were your ‘siblings’. And so was she... 

She writhed on the ground in agony. And you were useless. You couldn’t move a muscle, having been ordered to stay still, your body refusing to obey your will - all you could do was watch the horrible things that were being done to her. The only thing that could possibly make this worse, was if you could move, because you would only move as a puppet, obeying his commands.  

“Fetch the pliers, Astarion.” 

A terrible howl tore from the depths of your chest. 

“Astarion... Wake up... It’s only a dream. It’s not real.” a hand was shaking you awake, and you opened your eyes to see her lying next to you, concern written on her face. Unharmed. In your tent.  

Breaking free of the sleep paralysis was like trying to move with the weight of the ocean on you. Once you finally escaped it, you grabbed her, wrapping her in a bear hug and clutching her against your chest, and wordlessly rocked her, kissing her forehead, as though she was the one who needed comforting.  

She must have guessed what your dream involved.  

“I’m okay... I’m with you, my sweet.” she nuzzled into you, stroking your back.  

“You were...” you couldn’t say it. “...Gods, that was the worst one yet. I couldn’t do anything.” You held her tighter. 

“It’s not real. I know you’ll keep me safe... You always do...” she murmured into your neck. 

If your heart could do anything but sit as dead weight in your chest, it would have melted.  

Once you’d calmed and your breathing was back to normal, she lifted her head and planted a soft kiss on your lips.  

“Awfully sentimental of you to be having nightmares about losing me.” 

Back to laughing about everything... 

At that moment you knew you’d finally had enough. You’d had enough of being coy and putting on a display of nonchalance, you’d had enough of turning everything into a joke, you’d had enough games, enough pretending. You said you wanted something real with her, and you meant it.  

“I love you,” you whispered. 

And just like that, it was out, and you lost all care about any self-restraint.  

She grew still, and you slipped your hand gently over her mouth, just firmly enough to let her know you didn’t want her to say anything just yet, and rolled on top of her, tracing her face with kisses, repeating it over and over again in between, like a manic mantra.  

“I love you... I love you...” 

Tears sprang from her eyes, and you kissed them away, as your own tears fell onto her face, still repeating those words.  

You wanted to live in this moment, for it to never end. If there was even the slightest chance that the next words out of her mouth were anything but reciprocation, you didn’t want to know yet. You couldn’t. You didn’t think you would survive it. 

But you could tell she was smiling, and kissing your palm, and still you continued, kissing your way down her face, until you landed a kiss just at the corner of her mouth, whispering a final “Love you... so much” before removing your hand and catching her lips with yours, still not letting her say anything.  

She returned your kiss, letting out the softest whimper, and she was clinging on to you in a tight embrace, so tight you could feel her heart like it was your own, beating wildly, and you knew, of course you knew, but you were still terrified, until... 

“I love you too, Astarion,” she finally managed, breathlessly. 

Your whole body shuddered in a sob. More than two hundred years... More than two centuries since you’d last heard those words in earnest.  

“I love you too... Should I say it twenty more times as well?” she was beaming, her eyes still wet. Gods, had she ever looked as happy and beautiful as in this moment?  

You breathed a chuckle, trying to recompose yourself.  

“Would you? Please..?” 

You lost all track of time, as you laid in each other’s arms, legs tangled, kissing, whispering and giggling like lovesick teenagers. Nothing had changed, really, yet somehow at the same time everything had. You knew it was silly, but were too happy to care.  

“When did it start for you?” you asked, linking your fingers through hers.  

“Do you remember that time near the risen road, when a bandit got close enough to have his knife at my throat?” 

“You were hopeless in battle then, darling,” you nodded. 

“...Thanks. Anyway, I thought I was done for. And then next thing I knew, you were on him, tearing out his throat with your bare teeth, spraying us both with blood.”  

“I got disarmed and couldn’t get to my weapon fast enough, it was the only thing I could think of doing,” you admitted. 

“And then you stared at me with that smirk of yours, licking the blood off your hand.” 

“And you, instead of vomiting or threatening to stake me like Gale and Shadowheart, just stared back, looking impressed, and thanked me,” you chuckled. 

“Yes, that was definitely the moment something stirred in me.” 

“You asked if I wanted to help clean you up as well, you absolute freak,” you broke into a full laugh. 

“I was joking,” she huffed. “...I think.” 

“I know... But that was when I knew something was wrong with you in a way that I found absolutely delightful.” 

More time passed. 

You were still lying in an embrace and looking into each other’s eyes, whispering, when you started to hear movement in camp. You didn’t know how you were going to get through the day, it was as though everything but what you held in your arms had lost all meaning and importance. 

“My Astarion... My sweet elf...” she murmured, running her fingers softly through your hair. 

This is what you were to her. Not a vampire, not a killer, not an instrument or means to an end, or a personification of some deranged fantasy. But something so... unsullied. You couldn’t possibly even begin to conceive how that could be, and yet... 

“My sunlight,” you whispered back. 

~~~~~

Next in series - The morning after

Series master list

AO3

[moonselune]

Oh my goodness your response you my blank slate bard tav was amazing!! Thank you so much, it was so lovely to see the ladies reaction to that concept!

One small additional request tho, if that’s ok, would it be possible to see that concept with a romanced Astarion?? I’m so sorry, cause I could have sworn I sent the request specifying Astarion 😅

No matter what, thank you so much for your response!! It was beautiful!

I did not forget about this my inbox has been a mess and for some reason asks keep appearing and then disappearing but regardless, i got you nonnie

Astarion x Bard!reader | Blank Slate

The camp was quiet now. The fire had burned down to embers, casting long shadows across tents and rocks, flickering like memories half-remembered. Astarion stood at the edge of it all, the silver light of the moon tracing sharp lines across his cheekbones. He looked beautiful, as always. Haunted, but beautiful.

He was done. His chains were broken. The scars Cazador had left on his soul no longer bled open at every word, every glance. And yet, tonight, there was a new weight to the way he looked at you. Not pain. Not relief. But curiosity.

Not the idle kind. Not the teasing, flippant kind you’d grown used to. This was different.

“You’re very good at disappearing,” he said suddenly, cutting through the silence like a knife. “You walk into a room and everyone sees you, and yet—there’s nothing you let them hold. No blood, no bone. Just… smoke.”

You didn’t respond at first. Just tightened your grip on the lute you were tuning in your hands, a nearby cup of wine untouched.

Astarion took a step closer, eyes narrowing slightly. “I’ve told you things I never imagined I would say aloud. About him. About the things he did to me. The things I did for him.” His voice cracked, but only for a moment. “And you listened. Gods, did you listen. Better than anyone else ever has. But not once have you offered anything in return.”

You smiled. It was soft. Polished. Practiced.

“A good leader doesn’t burden their allies,” you said lightly, setting down the lute and clasping your hands.“And someone had to hold everything together.”

Astarion’s eyes sharpened at that, red like cut garnet in the firelight.

“You’re not a leader to me,” he said. “You’re mine. Or you said you were.”

Your breath caught. Not from fear. From how precise his words were. How intimate.

“I know your favourite wine. The way you laugh when you’ve had too much of it. The way your hands shake when you’re cold but you pretend they don’t. I’ve memorized you, darling—every inch of what you show the world. But I don’t know what you carry in your darkest hours. And I want to.”

You looked down. You could feel the weight of everything he didn’t know pressing against the back of your teeth like a tide: the burned-out ruin of a childhood, the abandonment, the years clawing for survival before the tadpole ever touched your skull. The choices. The things you did when no one was watching.

“I’m afraid,” you said quietly. “That if I tell you the truth—who I was before all this—that you’ll look at me the way the others would. Like I’m broken. Like I’ve been pretending.”

Astarion crouched in front of you then, a hand reaching out to tilt your chin up until your eyes met his. His voice, when he spoke, was gentler than you had ever heard it. No lace of seduction, no irony. Just him.

“My love,” he said. “Do you think I don’t know what it means to wear a mask? To survive by slipping into a version of yourself that others need to see? You don’t frighten me.”

“But I might,” you whispered.

“And yet I’m still here. Do you think I only want the version of you that makes everyone else feel safe? No. I want the version that wakes up screaming. The one that doesn’t always know how to breathe. I want the whole of you—ugly parts and all. Because that’s what love is, isn’t it? Not just the shining moments, but the ones you hide.”

You stared at him. The carefully constructed walls you had held all this time trembled beneath his words, splintered by the sheer, relentless tenderness in his eyes. And in that moment, something inside you cracked.

“I was nothing,” you said, voice shaking. “Before all this. Before the tadpole, before you. I wasn’t anyone. I survived by being useful, clever, likable. I wasn’t loved. Not once. Not truly. And I was fine with that. I had to be.”

Astarion didn’t look away. He took your hand and placed it over his unbeating heart.

“You’re not nothing now. Not to me. And if you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my very long life proving that to you.”

The fire’s glow danced across his pale skin as he leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours. He didn’t kiss you. Didn’t touch more than your hand. Just stayed close. Present. Safe.

And for the first time, you let yourself lean into him. Let your weight rest somewhere other than your own shoulders. Let yourself be known.

Not as the leader.

Not as the hero.

Just as you.

And Astarion, who knew too well the pain of being used, saw you. And wanted you still.

Hope you guys enjoyed this, I'm going through a bit of an inbox sort so I can get requests back open and potentially a new project... anyway love you all! - Seluney xox

[larkwinged]

❛ we could sway above the meadows as our riddles rest

beneath, as our verses hide away, we could say let it be ! ❜

────────

“it’s a fine day for a walk. care to join me m’lady?” the bard held out his hand, waiting patiently for his lover to take it.

the knight shook their head, a fond smile tugging at their lips. “to you, everyday is a fine day.”

“why of course!” the bard giggled, leading the knight into a gentle waltz. “with my darling knight, why wouldn’t it be?”

“enough, schatz,” they returned his laugh, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. he leaned into their touch and nuzzled his nose against theirs.

his voice grew impossibly gentler. “let me spoil you more today, liebling. it’s our anniversary, after all!”

happy 1st anniversary, mein liebling 🤍

art by @/milksnake-tea aka my goat <33

[amorgansgal]

So in talking about Halsin being excited to hold his first baby, I thought it would be fun to write a little hc piece about all the gang holding your baby for the first time. This is more them just being a friend of yours, rather than being the partner.

Baldur's Gate 3 - The Gang Meeting Your Baby For the First Time

Karlach - There’s a whole exaggerated tiptoe thing as she walks into the room, though she’s not very quiet as she’s practically vibrating with excitement and carrying gifts, just so many gifts, gifts for you, gifts for your partner, gifts for the baby, gifts for the healers. ‘Oh… my… gods!’ she’ll whisper on seeing the baby. ‘They’re so cute! They’re so small and cute!’ She’ll grab anyone nearby so they’re forced to look at the baby. ‘Look at them! LOOK AT HOW SMALL AND CUTE THEY ARE! I just want to squish their tiny, little face.’ Oh absolutely wants to hold the baby. If you want a break at any time Auntie K will be there!

Gale - Has to have a healer help him through the door because he’s carrying a load of books. He’ll greet you first and see how you’re doing before having a look at the baby. ‘Oh, they’re lovely, congratulations to you both.’ Morena Dekarios has already sent a small mountain of meals to your house, so you won’t have to cook or go hungry and she’s made a little baby grow. Gale has brought what he considers ‘essential reading’ for the baby and gives a small lecture as to his choices. ‘This concerns conjuration magic, very essential to know, even if they don’t become a wizard or cleric or bard…’ Will definitely want to hold the baby, though he’s a bit awkward while doing so.

Astarion - He waltzes in, though is very quiet. He brings a large bouquet of flowers, some very good wine and the fanciest collection of soaps and bath paraphernalia. If someone points out he should’ve brought something for the baby too, he’ll say, ‘Why? It’s not as if they care or can lodge a complaint!’ He’ll inspect the baby with pursed lips, then give a little shrug and say, ‘Well, I'll hand it to you, darling, that’s a surprisingly cute baby. You know how usually babies are ugly, wrinkled potato looking things and you have to lie and pretend they don’t look like that. That one is actually quite endearing, so well done on making a rather pretty baby.’ Does not want to hold the baby.

Halsin - Absolutely beaming when he walks through the door. He’s carved a whole little wooden menagerie for the baby and also brought some healing potions and herbal teas to bring back your strength. Definitely has heart shaped eyes whilst looking at your baby and really wants to hold them, but doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries. He’ll instead gently murmur to them, stroke their little cheek and their belly. ‘Silvanus’ blessings upon you, little one.’ He’ll smile at you. ‘They are perfect, congratulations.’ The baby loves being held by him, they are out like a light as soon as he’s holding them against his chest, slightly rocking them and mumbling a lullaby.

Lae’zel - Her attention is mostly on you, after all you just went through the toughest battle known to your kind and given the baby is healthy, alive and sleeping, really all praise and attention should be on the mother. If your partner was there she’d probably chastise them for not fetching you everything you needed right this second. If Xan is with her then she’ll introduce them to the baby. ‘This is a baby, we are expected to tell the parents that they are cute, even if such a thing is a lie.’ She’d probably bring a little training sword and shield. ‘Once they are able to stand and walk and hold a sword, inform me, and I will begin their training. You and your child are lucky, it is an honour to receive the training the Githyanki do.’ Doesn’t want to hold the baby, but if Xan is interested then she may relent.

Wyll - Perfect guest, he does not stay too long, but gives attention to everyone and brings food, a well chosen toy and a lovely woven shawl for you. He doesn’t want to overload you with gifts and says if there’s anything he can do to help around your house, be it cleaning, mending or gardening, he will be there. With your say so he holds the baby and smiles as they grip tightly onto his little finger. ‘They are a fine little boy/girl.’ He actually speaks to the baby ‘When you are bigger I shall tell you all that we and your mother did. Defending Baldur’s Gate, fighting Ansur the dragon, defeating the Dead Three and the Netherbrain. I am sure you will not believe it, but it is so.’ He’s very comfortable holding the baby.

Shadowheart - She is so nervous and probably would prefer to wait for you to be back home, rather than coming to see you in a hospital. She doesn’t want to overcrowd you. She may even be a little apprehensive in asking how you are and while she asks if the birth was alright, she’s not sure if she wants to know the answer. But she does bring a beautiful baby’s mobile with a crescent shaped moon and stars carved out of crystal, so the light can glimmer on them and cast rainbows about the room. She surprisingly relaxes when she does get to hold the baby. ‘Oh, you’re quite lovely, aren’t you?’

[ladyempty]

Hello. About Yandere Rhaegar and Baratheon(Steffon'sdaughter).And at the banquet. The Starks (Brandon/Ned), Jaime are flirting with the reader. What would Rhaegar's reaction be?

"The cold freezes a dragon"

° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life.| ° | pairing: Yan! Rhaegar Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader ° | !English is not my first language!|

The atmosphere was lively, bards and musicians entertained everyone present in the great hall with endless singing. Under the darkness of the night, the only source of light was the countless candles held by metal brackets and a large old chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Laughter and conversations mixed and echoed around the room, filling the large space with ease

The ladies, tired of dancing, were with other ladies, fanning themselves with colorful fans while whispering among themselves like little mice.

It was a great celebration filled with everyone's happiness and satisfaction. But Rhaegar had something else on his mind, determined to be victorious in the battle he has been fighting since a young age. The battle for his heart.

But the irritating Lannister, Jaime, heir to the proud lord Tywin Lannister also seemed determined to have the same achievement tonight. The boy with golden blond hair and emerald eyes who had never, in his entire existence, irritated Rhaegar more than at that moment.

The dragon prince's fingers closed against his cup, so tightly that his fingertips took on a whitish hue. The dark purple eyes, always so lackluster even when he was young, were fixed on the scene that was unfolding like torture before his eyes. The darkness of his pupils consuming the rich purple of his irises with dark intentions.

The Lannister's movements were bold, he twirled a thick platinum curl under his ring finger, admiring the color up close and softness against his skin. An act that seemed so gallant to others, but so despicable to Rhaegar. How dare he be so close? To insinuate yourself so blatantly? Any rational being in this room knew very well of the prince's obvious interest in his second cousin. Was Jaime blind or simply too stupid to see the obvious? The fact known to everyone?

The green poison of jealousy rose in his throat with every little exchange of words between them, threatening to boil over at any moment and force Rhaegar to commit acts he didn't want to do. Or he would like it more than he should.

And the fact that you didn't push him away only served to hurt him deeply. When you were married, would you continue to allow other men to advance? The sudden thought came to his mind and a deadly pain shot through his insides, a pain as fierce as if you were already his wife and had been unfaithful.

Well, that's enough. He thought furiously, standing up quickly as the young lion grew even bolder, lips hovering dangerously close to his as he whispered words that would make any other Lady blush.

Rhaegar's warm hand suddenly rested on his shoulder, making you jump in your seat at the sudden contact, turning your head to study him.

"Forgive me, but I simply have barely had time to talk to you since the beginning of the banquet, dear cousin." He smiled, a smile that never reached his eyes that were still fixed on Jaime. "I hope you don't mind me stealing from her for a moment." And forever and ever, he completed in his mind.

"How could I be so rude as to disturb a family moment, right?" The bold Lannister hummed, a feline, mocking smile on his lips as he rose from his seat to leave the table he was at, not before placing an infuriatingly long kiss on the back of Lady Baratheon's hand.

"I do not like him. I don't want you near him." Rhaegar growled, his tone always so calm that it perfectly hid his anger. "He's the kind of man no respectable Lady should have around." And you are respectable, aren't you my dear cousin?"

Rhaegar quickly stole Jaime's place at the table next to him, his hand cautiously clasped your, which was hidden between the folds of the skirt of your dress, a gentle but not loose grip, sharing the warmth of his hands to the woman.

"Are you cold? Perhaps the very low temperatures are not the most appropriate place for you." He smiled with a small lift at the corner of his lips. His eyes quickly migrated to the figure of Ned Stark standing in the corner of the hall talking to Robert. Rhaegar has already added the man to your list since the beginning of the night, when the hateful Stark boldly, out of character, stole all the dances with you that night.

"It's a good thing the dragon's blood runs through my veins, so I can keep you warm whenever I want. Forever.”

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

If it's not too much to ask, could you do 3, 8, and 14 from that list? I think they would work together really cute!

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

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Protective!Astarion, Asexual Angst

Warning: Tav has a shitty ex, allusions to past coerced sex (if unknowing at the time), mild acephobia

Prompt(s): hiding face in neck, shielding the other one with their body, putting an arm around the other’s waist

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

A/N: My first thought was pain. Apologies.

It was supposed to be a good night. You sought, you found, you looted which meant a warm place to sleep, plenty of food and celebratory atmosphere. Astarion had even gotten his hands on wine he wouldn’t turn his nose at. Everything was perfect, until a new bard began to play.

The second you heard his voice, your hair stood on end. Hoping against hope it was just your imagination, you turned your attention to the performance. A familiar half-elf took center stage, armed with a lyre and devastating smile; Ronan.

Your whole body froze on the spot as old feelings rushed back to you, a mixture of shame, anxiety and the sensation of being so utterly small.

“My love? Are you alright?”

You blinked, realizing Astarion was standing next to you, concern clear in his eyes.

“Yes,” you said, automatically. “Just, taken by surprise is all.”

He frowned, unconvinced before following your eye line to the stage.

“Do you know him?” he asked.

“I, ah…yes,” you said, your hands starting to shake. “We used to be…together. It was a long time ago.”

There was no point in lying, but Gods why did you have to have this conversation now? And why were you acting like this? It had been years. You had moved on.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Astarion reached out, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side.

The effect was instantaneous. Whatever tension your body held melted away. The speed of your heart slowed. The scent of rosemary filled your lungs and you remembered where you were, safe and sound.

He pressed a kiss on top of your head, taking a deep breath of his own.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, nothing like that. He didn’t do anything on purpose.”

Astarion’s grip on your tightened ever so slightly. You didn’t need to look up to know he was staring daggers across the room. His hold on you was likely the only thing keeping Ronan’s neck out of his teeth.

“Meaning?”

“He never forced me to do anything,” you assured, trying to remain calm for both your sakes. “I always said yes. Being intimate is what you’re supposed to do when you’re in a caring adult relationship. He wasn’t abusive or cruel, so there was no reason for me to say no…even when I didn’t really want to.”

“That’s reason enough,” Astarion said, firmly.

“I know that now,” you amended. “At the time though, it didn’t feel good enough. We had more than one argument on the subject. Eventually though, I came to the conclusion that, if it weren’t for the feeling of obligation, I never would have said yes in the first place. He wasn’t happy about that and we ended things.”

“Less than amicably I imagine.”

You had to laugh. “Understatement.”

Astarion remained silent for a long moment, his fingers rubbing absent minded circles into your skin.

“Explain to me then, how you can confess all that and still claim he didn’t hurt you.”

Something hard twisted inside your chest, as if he had pressed his finger right into the tear of an old wound. “I wasn’t as if he were holding me at knife point,” you said, feeling the need to defend yourself. “Like I said, I didn’t know saying a blanket no was even an option. Sex is well…expected at a certain point. I can hardly blame him for not questioning the script society had laid out. He just–”

“Made you believe you needed an excuse,” he finished.

Your lips parted, ready to argue, but you found yourself unable to think of anything. Fresh shame rose inside you, but you couldn’t for the life of you name its source. For defending him? For not leaving sooner? For even thinking that your pain was worthy of acknowledgement? All of it swirled together until you became sick to your stomach.

Astarion’s eyes softened, as he pulled you into a proper embrace allowing you to hide your face in his neck. You weren’t going to cry. Not here. Not now.

“I’m sorry,” you said, unsure of what else to say.

“Don’t be,” he said, softly. “It’s not a competition, you know.”

Your instinct was to argue. There was still a guilt you felt at having him hold you like this, as if your experience were in any way comparable to his; but, that wasn’t the point. You had been hurt and he wasn’t going to let you pretend you hadn’t. If you didn’t already love him before, this would have sealed it.

You pulled away, feeling your ability to speak come back to you, just in time to catch his expression shift into something hard and dangerous.

You turned in the direction of his gaze, your own stomach turning as you and Ronan made eye contact. He was coming right for you.

Astarion’s whole body went rigid. Instinctively you grabbed his wrist, keeping him from going to the dagger on his belt.

“Don’t,” you hissed.

The clear and present fury in his eyes, cooled at your warning, enough to let you know he wasn’t going to kill Ronan; at least, not right away.

Ronan, somehow, remained oblivious to all of this, his focus seemingly all on you.

“Well, isn’t this a small world?” he said, greeting you with a disarming smile. “You’re looking good. Who's your friend?”

Your lips pressed into a fine line. Either he was an idiot or being purposefully obtuse. Both ground down on your nerves.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you said. “Ronan, this is my partner, Astarion. Astarion this is–”

“The ex,” he concluded. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

Whatever confident facade Ronan started the conversation with faltered slightly at Astarion’s bold dismissal.

“And really darling, I thought we discussed this,” Astarion continued. “Partner always requires unnecessary explanation. I stand by "lover”, it suits us much better.“

You held back a smile. You had discussed this, at length. Your impression, however, had been that he liked the air of mystery the title "partner” provided. Something about leaving people guessing whether you were partners in business, crime or romance. Apparently, current company required something a bit more obvious.

“Lover?” Ronan questioned, his brow rising. “Changed your mind about a few things then?”

“Not even a little,” you said, coolly. “What do you want?”

He raised his hands up in surrender, his expression a parody of innocence.

“I was simply intending to say hello and catch up. No need to be frigid, but I suppose some things don’t change. Best of luck to you, partner, they’ve got their legs locked tighter than a counting house vault.”

Rage flashed across Astarion’s features as he took a step forward, his body acting as a shield between you and Ronan.

“Would you mind repeating that?” he said, his voice low and full of teeth.

Ronan’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth falling open. You just knew he was about to say something stupid.

“Astarion,” you warned.

He glanced back towards you, his expression intense, but not unreasonable. You knew then, all you had to do was say the word and Ronan would be reduced to nothing but a bag of blood. It was tempting, but not worth it. At least, not worth it while in public with countless eye witnesses.

You shook your head.

He nodded in understanding and turned back to Ronan, his lips parting in an amicable smile.

“It seems you get to survive that comment,” he said, cheerfully. “I suggest you don’t take such mercy for granted. Now, run along.”

Ronan didn’t need telling twice as he shot you one last bewildered look before making his exit.

The second he was out of sight Astarion turned all his focus back to you.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to kill him?” he offered.

You had to smile. “Waste of an evening.”

He considered that, nodding his head from side to side. “I suppose. Still, a little nibble just to scare him wouldn’t hurt anyone. At least, not much.”

“I think you scared him well enough,” you laughed. “Besides, I’m selfish at heart. I want you here, with me, for the rest of the night. No more distractions.”

Astarion grinned, pulling you back into his arms. “If it’s me you want, my love, it’s me you shall have.”

And there he stayed, keeping you safe in the present with the promise of more in the future. The past could not be undone and would no doubt follow you in small and big ways for the rest of your life. The difference was, you had somebody who understood and loved you enough to carry some of the weight. It was more than anyone could hope for and he was yours.

[wakacreations]

Infernal Drunks:

Tav just wanted a peaceful night out. What happens when (Zevlor, Rolan, Raphael, Haarlep) go to a tavern? Turns out they can't hold their liquor. This was so much fun to write.

Zevlor:

“Zevlor! Get down from there!” You turned around to see the Hellrider stood proud atop the bar counter. The bards strummed away at their strings. The patrons drunkenly joined in drumming along on the tables. “When the sirens are calling! They'll ask for your wedding band! They say oh no dear you can never settle down! You have made a sailor's swear! We live by the honors of our sailor’s code!” The Commander belted out to their fellow patrons.

"We live our lives ruthless and free! Beware the bitch queen, Umberlee!” The patrons hollered back. You elbow your way through the tight crowd as Zevlor continues to sing. “We are no mere ruffians or just another gutted chum. Well what do we do, sailors?” He gestured to his audience. “We do fuck all till the crack of dawn!” The sailors roared. He waved a hand at you when he saw your head poke through the wall of happy drunkards. “We are the proud sailors! We call the seas home! We raise our tankards high till the taverns run dry in the Sea of the Sword Coast!” They cheered, guzzling down their tankards. The Hellrider followed suit. “Another song, Horns!” The bards yelled out. Zevlor gave a boyish smile as he held his hand out to you. “Care to sing with me for the next musical number?”

Rolan:

“You know there is a saying that one should never receive a kiss from a tiefling.” You feel the brush of his spade against your ankle. The last song of the evening was winding down. “Is that so,” you teased, raising a brow. “You’ll find a love like no other.” Rolan took a finished sip of his glass, setting it down. “Is that an offer, Rolan?” Your breath hitches as he moves his face in close to get a better look at you. The tiefling wizard’s cheeks were rosy as his eyes met yours. “Would that make you happy,” he grinned. “I.. Are you drunk, Rolan?” He pulled his face back, cocking his head processing your words. He took your hand into his own. “Only on you,” he purred, grazing his lips against the back of your palm. “Your hand is too cold,” turning your hand over to cup his flushed cheek. “There much better, all warm,” Rolan hummed blissfully. You glanced around making sure no one peered at your booth. “I think it's about time to take you home.” If anything it is better to see him at home and forget this evening than to see him lock himself away in the tower for a tenday or more at his own sheer embarrassment. You moved to withdraw your hand feeling your face burn. His hand didn't budge. “Why? I don’t want to,” he huffed, moving his tail to wrap around your ankle.  A pout quivered his lower lip. “I don’t want to wake up,” he grumbled. “Wake up from what? Do you feel tired then we better leave then.” He shook his head in an aggressive no. “When I open my eyes after I fall asleep you’ll be gone,” Rolan whined, squeezed your hand. “I'll see you again in the morning, Rolan. Who would I be if I didn't check up on you?” He shook his head again. “Like how the moon says goodbye to the sun.. When they rise from the horizon.. This moment will be no more. Only to return when I shut my eyes…” The wizard swallowed, concentrating on finding the words. “But never to exist in the waking morning,” his eyes moved to the hand he held. He sighed and pressed a kiss to the inside of your palm. “I said to you after the death of my master, please what is mine is yours.” He looked at you once more. “Well my heart is my own and is yours should you ever wish to keep it.” Guiding your hand from his face to gently pressing your fingers to form a fist. With both hands he held your palm closed, “My love will always be here within your grasp.”

Raphael: 

“Mouse!? Where are you!?” You heard a deep timbre voice yell above the strings of the tavern. Turning around you see a disheveled man swaying towards you. “Are you alright, Raphael,” raising a brow. He leaned against the bar to steady himself. “Why are you here?” Given how rosy his cheeks have flushed, the stained undershirt and missing doublet, he did make his rounds.  “You,” he growled, clenching his jaw. Tilting your head, “what for Raphael? I have already paid my debts to you,” taking a swig of your tankard. “What? Did you lose the crown already?” The devil sneered, brushing back a hair that had fallen out of place. “Only a fool would lose such a precious relic. No, there is something I need from you.” What could he possibly need? “I need you home.” You sputtered into your drink. “WHAT,” you coughed, hacking out the last bit of alcohol in your lungs. “It is how I said it, mouse." The flicker of Hellfire shown in his unfocused gaze. You felt something bound off your head. Looking down you see a crumpled up paper. “Who done that!?” You scanned the faces from the direction it flew. “Done, what? What are you accusing me of? I’ll have your-” “No, not you.” You waved off the cranky devil. From the crowd you spotted a familiar warlock from across the tavern. “Korrilla?” The devil’s warlock gestured to the piece of paper. Unraveling the paper it read He won’t leave unless you take him. Squinting your eyes at the text in hand and looking back at her. “No,” you shook your head. She mouthed back at you, “he’s your problem.” Turning your eyes onto Raphael who was groaning clutching his head on the counter. “He’s your patron!” Looking back, the dwarven warlock had vanished. “Fuck!” Your face fell into your hands. The jiggle of bells came closer. “Tav… I am not feeling so well..” You felt a tugged at your sleeve. “Can we go home now?”

HAARLEP

“Haarlep? Where are you going?” The drunken “tiefling” stumbles away from you. “To find more food, Mousey,” they yawned. “Haven't you eaten already? The bards would be singing about the tiefling who wouldn't leave the tavern without kissing all the patrons.” You walked in pace with them. “Please, that is a regular night for a bard. Only an appetizer for an incubus. There are plenty of tasty morsels to feast upon,” they tumbled forward. “Oh, look there, that one looks quite delectable,” they shimmed free from their wingless guise. “No, come here Haarlep!” They shook their wings. Stretching them to their full wingspan, Haarlep flaps their wings preparing to take off. “You want a hug!?” You extended your arms spread wide. “Haarlep, please!” If they flew, who knows where they would end up. “Mousey!” They waddled back towards you. “Yes, that’s it Haarlep! Who is my favorite little fiend?!” Somewhere you swear you heard a tut of disapproval. “Mousey… I am still,” they yawned over your ear. “Hungry,” dropping their head atop your shoulder. “Let's not go home just yet,” they mumbled. “I know, Haarlep. I know,” moving their arm to hang over your shoulder. When are they ever not? “Where are you taking me?” They groaned as you slowly dragged the incubus towards the Devil's Fee. “You'll eat when we're home, Haarlep. Could you at the very least attempt to walk,” you huffed looking up at the long uphill dirt path. Would it be too late to call for Korrilla? Or Yugir perhaps? “If I do Mousey will you sleepover? Who is to check on I if I were to fall desperately ill hmm?” Pressing the pad of their claw into your cheek, you rolled your eyes. “You know the little brat is helpless if I were to fall sick and no one wants to deal with his petty little tantrums,” they slurred. Would killing Haarlep make them teleport to the boudoir or somewhere else? You shivered from a warm gust of air, a low growl filled your ear, “yes.” Am I hearing things now? “Those are dangerous thoughts to be having, little mouse,” Haarlep purred. You felt their tail wrap snugly around your waist. “So, very naughty of you,” nuzzling their cheek against yours. “Pretty please? I will be as good as my little impies?” The Devil’s Fee was in sight. “Your impies destroyed my pack last time I left it in the boudoir,” you sighed. “I promise, mouse,” they yawned. Just a couple of steps further. Making your way past the gate, “We made it, Haarlep. We’re almost home.” No noise came from the incubus. “Haarlep?” You turned to see their head hung low, drool pooling at the corner of their mouth. “Goodnight then,” you chuckled. Knocking aggressively on the door outcame Mammon’s warlock with a look of agitation. With a toss of a pouch from your hip, she ushered you in. The warmth of Hellfire blanketed you, both. “Just for tonight, Haarlep. I will stay. Who knows, if he’ll allow me to let you out again,” pressing a kiss to their temple. “I might as well,” you yawned, laying down beside them. You watched their slow steady breaths being lullied by its calming rhythm. They stirred in their sleep reaching out to you. “My Mousey,” pulling you to their chest. “Haarlep,” you breathed, suffocating in their tight embrace. “My sweet Mousey.”

[lavandulawrites]

Yandere Genshin Men On Their First Date With Their Darling: Venti

Yandere Venti x reader

Venti is such a sweetheart, but he can be quite creepy

Masterlist

Word count: 572

Venti giggled as he held your hand. “I’m so glad you agreed to this little outing!” his smile big and his eyes shining brighter than any stars littered across the night sky.

Despite him being the same height as you, his eager steps were hard to follow. “Wait! Why are you in such hurry?” you panted trying to keep up.

“Oh my dear don’t you see? I’m just so excited!” his laughter melodic.

You wondered where the man got his stamina from. When you thought about it, he never got tired from physical activity. It was as if he was not quite human. You quickly brushed away the thought.

Despite his apparent love for the grand tree in Windrise, he had taken you somewhere else. He had teleported you both at the foot of Starcliff. You had been surprised by his anemo abilities, but what did you know? Vision holders were someone beyond you, so you chose to not question it further.

You finally reached the top of the steep hill and you breathed out. In front of you by the tip of the cliff, were a cozy picnic blanket. The spot were arranged with pillows and extra blankets and food and drinks that suited your tastes. “Wow…” you looked around in awe.

Venti smiled “Why don’t you take a seat? I have arranged a lot of delicious treats for us!”

The blanket were soft against your skin. The view were beautiful. The grass rustling in the light breeze. “Thank you Venti” you looked at the black haired man as he took a seat besides you.

His smile widened. “Of course my love”. His slender hand reached into the basket that sat beside him and pulled out a apple pie. With precision he sliced you a piece and handed it to you. “I hope you enjoy my windblume” his eyes filled with love.

You thank him for the pie and dug in. You both are in silence for awhile.

After an hour you broke the silence “Lately I have had this feeling that someone is watching me… It doesn’t matter where I am or who I am with. It really creeps me out”. You sigh and look at Venti with a concerned expression. Surely the intelligent bard had some advice for you.

Venti looks into the distance with a thoughtful expression, his hand on his chin. “That’s sounds so very frightening my dear” he turns to you with eyes filled with worry. “I think it’s best you don’t stay home alone for the next few days until this calms down”. He thinks for a moment before his eyes lit up. “What if you stay at my place? There’s plenty of room” he looks at you expectingly.

“Can I really do that? I don’t want to be in your way” you smile sheepishly.

Venti takes your hand in his and look you deeply into your eyes. His eyes filled with endless love. It gave you shivers. “I don’t mind at all. All I want is for you to be safe, [Name]. You know that don’t you?” his grip tightened. “I won’t ever let any harm fall upon you. If anything were to happen or if anyone tries anything, I will slay them all” the corners of his mouth twisted up into a sick smile. “I love you. Don’t ever forget that [Name]”. He leaned forward and kissed you. His lips soft and delicate.

[bedoballoons]

Thank you @swivy123 for the request!! I hope you enjoy!! Normally I prefer up to 5 characters! A couple less or more is okay though! Some of them are a bit short though...<3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Hybrid reader~༺}

CW: fluffy!, Reader has ears and a tail! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon chérie, my sweet, Kazuha: My dear, Venti: Beautiful)

(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Xiao, Kazuha, Venti, Scaramouche, and Cyno!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Your tail wagged back and forth with excitement, Lyneys top hat visible in the distance, bobbing slightly with every one of his steps and growing steadily closer as he made his way to you. Your body wiggled impatiently, you just missed him so much and you couldn't wait to see him again! He probably had so much to tell you, so many new magic tricks to share and you had requested he bring you a treat back...

"Forget it!" You bounced happily to him, unable to wait even a second longer and he didn't seem to mind, pulling you close and showering your face with kisses while you hummed in delight. "Mon chérie! I missed you so much, but alas it was worth it! I have a gift for you my sweet~" You gasped cutely, your cheeks blushing a light pink when he tipped his hat off his head, inside a bouquet of exotic flowers that smelled so heavenly and a box of treats for you to enjoy.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnaris tail swayed in sync with yours, the two of you embracing eachother after what felt like eons away from eachother, you couldn't even begin to explain everything that had happened and ask everything you wanted to know about his trip, so you simply settled on what you were feeling, "I missed you."

"I'd hope so."

"Tighnari!"

𑁍༄Xiao:

You squealed happily as Xiaos strong arms wrapped around you tightly from behind, his ability to randomly appear no longer a jumpscare but a welcomed surprised and as he kissed the top of your head, your fluffy ears flattening to give him room, you honestly wish he'd do so more often. "Xiao you should appear more often."

"...it doesn't frighten you anymore?"

"It was never truly scary Xiao! I just wasn't used to it. Now I am though and I want you to appear whenever you like." You turned around, smiling at his flustered expression, your tail swaying with love for him while you kissed his cheek.

𑁍༄Kazuha:

You held your tail in your hands, trying to stop it's insistent wagging to no avail, you were just overfilled with love and seeing Kazuha walk up to you with that sweet dazed face of his wasn't calming your animal features by any means.

"Hello my dear, missed me?"

"More than you could even imagine..."

𑁍༄Venti:

"Venti!!!" You called out, wrapping your arms around the bard while he chuckled in response, his laughs like a sweet melody that had you blushing and your tail wagging wildly. "I missed you too beautiful, you and your adorable little ears!" Venti touched your ears gently, making your cheeks go red and your heart skip a beat.

𑁍༄Scaramouche:

Scaramouche sighed as you jumped onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist and knocking his hat right off his head when you kissed his cheek, you just couldn't help it, you missed him! Your tail flicked around with excitement when he kissed your lips, not saying a word about missing you and yet...you knew he did, "Scara! How did your trip go? You didn't get hurt anywhere right?"

"To many questions...no I didn't get hurt and yes it was fine, it was a break from your overwhelming excitement..."

"Awwe you no you don't mean that! I think you like my excitement!"

"...whatever"

𑁍༄Cyno:

You snuggled your face into the crook of Cynos neck, his lips resting against your forehead as he placed multiple soft kisses against your skin, your heart to racing faster and faster with each one. Your ears twitched in delight, matching the crazed movements of your tail...it was just all so perfect.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[fantasyinallforms]

✨I did some practice writing angry consort Bilbo, and it didn't turn out half bad. Slightly cracked and a tad occ for Thranduil but it felt good enough to share. 1.1k words. ✨ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bilbo lunged at Thranduil. 

"What is this!" He shouted, clutching a wrinkled piece of parchment in his hands. Things had been so calm. Years of quiet interrupted only by minor disagreements that were always resolved peacefully, but what he held in his hand at present was slander. 

Thorin caught him around the waist before he could connect, and Bilbo fought him like a caged cat, tears of frustration and hurt in his eyes. 

"I had your back! I offered you, counsel! I defended you against others who looked to sow discord between our people! Was this what you thought of me the whole time?" Bilbo had never been this angry. Not at Lily Bottoms for stealing his tart recipe, not at the page who ruined an entire nearly finished book with a dropped bottle of ink, not even at Lobelia for stealing his mother's silver spoons. 

He kicked and demanded that Thorin release him, putting weight behind his attempts, but his husband never let go, only tucking his nose into his hair with a whisper of apology. 

"Was it because our friendship started with dishonesty? Something I needlessly apologized for and made right time and time again? LOOK AT ME, DAMNIT!" Bilbo screamed, and finally, the elven king looked at him with a hint of shame in his eyes. 

"I had not thought through my actions or my words," Thranduil replied, unusually cowed by the sight of his rage yet still his eyes were callous. 

"How very evident," Bilbo sneered. "You have always seen conspiracy where none existed. All I did was try to warn you. I tried to counsel you when I knew others wouldn't. You surround yourself with those who revere you and will not hold a mirror to your actions. Anyone who doesn't see you in that light, you outcast." 

"I never asked for your opinions. I simply sought to share the stresses of leading my people without unsolicited advice." Thranduil shot back 

"You never had to ask! Has the definition of friendship strayed in the last 8000 years? I saw your mind swaying dangerously. It was my duty to say something. You are a leader. There is always more than just yourself at stake. If that burden of responsibility has grown too much, then hand the crown to Legolas and be done with it!" 

"You say that there is no conspiracy, yet there you hold the evidence that there are plenty I can not trust." Thranduil spat.

Bilbo balled up the parchment still in his hand and threw it at Thranduil's feet. He was no longer fighting to get his hands on the elf king's person, but Thorin still stood by his side like a ridged statue, his hand on his arm in comfort. He knew Thorin only held him back for his own sake. He wouldn't let him react out of anger, knowing he would regret his action later as much as he might want to let Bilbo blacken an elven eye. 

"I hold this in my hand because I earned the loyalty of the people closest to me. You should have known Bard was honorable, that his conscience would not have let your words go unchallenged. That you would take my kindness and twist it into animosity tells me more than I cared to know. More than that, in the months since I sent you my letter of warning, you acted as though nothing was amiss, sending correspondence and even asking for my opinion as you always have. By spreading these lies, you would seek to shatter the very peace you helped build!" 

"What am I getting out of any of this other than responsibility? I watch from The Greenwood as Dale and Erebor grow in power. None of that prosperity comes my way. You, and those like you seek to take from me all I have built and make me an outcast in lands I have inhabited far longer. I know it in my heart." 

Many times over the years, he worried about Thranduil. Time and stress burdened people in different ways; it mattered not the race they came from. Thorin, Thranduil, and even Lord Elrond had faced hard lives and the same water that softened potatoes hardened eggs. It didn't make the bitter sting of betrayal taste any better. Thranduil should know better, and Bilbo wondered if he was saying that because, to some extent, he always put elves on a pedestal, and to see one act as such was a hard truth that could not be veiled once revealed. Age and intelligence were no measure of wisdom. How do you change someone's mind when they refuse to see past their own version of the truth? 

"You betrayed my trust. You spoke ill of me behind my back and tried to get my friends to think less of me. You would attempt to alienate me from a community that you know sustains me to sate your own vanity. For what? The crime of caring about you, caring about your future! I can tolerate hate and vitriol said to my face, but I can't abide words said behind my back. Trust, once broken, is hard to get back." Bilbo held in the chest-wrenching sobs that lingered underneath his anger. It was a hurt that would sit in his chest for some time after Thranduil returned to his home.

"Then what of this community you claim exists between the elves, men, and dwarves? Even if I made amends, is this to be the end of our friendship?" Thranduil's face was unreadable, and Bilbo wanted to slap him. The bastard couldn't even apologize, not that he had expected one. 

I will not disparage you to others or vilify you further than whatever damage your pettiness has done by itself. I have only ever wanted to build a time of peace where we can trade and practice our crafts. I will not let you steal that vision from me. Dissent would only lead to war, and I have no interest in tearing the lives of my people apart. As far as our friendship, that is to be determined by you and what actions will take from here. Any words you could share beyond that mean little.” 

Everyone in the room seemed to understand that the end of his sentence marked the end of the conversation. Bilbo turned and sank into Thorin's waiting arms, letting his husband do the work of keeping him upright. 

"And Thranduil," Bilbo called, still not looking at him. "Take the soured gift you brought with you. I'm beginning to find your generosity inconsistent." ~~~

(At several points Tumblr auto-correct tried to change Thranduil's name to tranquil and taquito. I find this hilarious)

[write-ur-wrongs]

The Set Up

Fic prompt from @always-and-forever-alone : I was wondering if you could write a store of reader, being called a monster for most of her life, and he either telling her she's not or saying something well it's happening(in he's way, because let be honest he probably wouldn't say it directly, God forbid he cares)

A/N: not proofread or beta-ed. I really wanted to get this one out today so I am going down with my typos. I had another idea in the works for this but this idea snuck up on me as I wrote. I honestly might keep working on v1 to post eventually but here's this one for now! :) ______________________________________________________

“What the fuck, Jaskier?” you screamed, your voice overlapping with the immense witcher standing across from you, who said the same thing.

When your longtime friend had asked you to come into town to meet a friend of his, you’d been hesitant. Life wasn’t kind to non-humans, and it certainly hasn’t been very nice to you. But you’d known Jaskier for years, and he’d never given you any reason to think he’d hurt you. Until now of course.

“Woah! Hey,” Jaskier, to his credit, sounded about as panicked as you felt, “please both of you just sit down and let me – Geralt put the sword down for fuck’s sake.”

You tore your eyes off the white-haired brute, his merciless grip easing off the hilt of his still-sheathed weapon, and chanced a glance at your supposed friend. There was a little bit of sweat on his upper lip, his eyes were wide, and he had his arms outstretched between the two of you, palms down – pacifying? He looked nervous but not guilty.

Why the fuck doesn’t he look guilty? You thought, confusion and hurt mingling bitterly in your stomach.

Wait. The witcher – Geralt? – yelled at Jaskier too. Why the hell was he pissed? Maybe Jaskier expected he kill you for free, or maybe he was on some kind of vacation and resented the job.

You set your eyes back on him, still refusing take a seat at their table, and your breath caught in your throat as his harsh, cat-like eyes, met and held your gaze.

“Y/N,” Jaskier said, waving you forward with the hand closest to you, “please sit. Let me explain.”

“Explain what?” you hissed, “How you hired a witcher to kill me?”

“Kill you?!” Jaskier and, confoundingly, Geralt, said in unison.

“Come on,” Jaskier continued, softening his tone and looking from you to his guest, “you know I would never do that. I have no reason to do that. Please, just sit.”

Fighting every instinct, you pulled up a stool from an adjacent table and joined the pair. Your heart was beating into your ears but you figured the witcher wouldn’t make his move in the middle of a busy tavern so you should be safe – for now.

***

Geralt watched the woman sitting across from him with growing curiosity.

When the bard had told him he was looking forward to introducing him to a friend of his in town, he’d rolled his eyes. Jaskier was always trying to introduce him to women he knew, women he hoped would sway and soften him up a little. It was exhausting, infuriating, and frankly, a little embarrassing. Geralt didn’t need any help in that department and he definitely didn’t share Jaskier’s taste in partners.

But this woman was nothing like the others. For starters, she wasn’t human. Geralt could sense her power even before she entered the tavern, his medallion vibrating in warning against his chest. When she entered, he took immediate notice of the way every candle got brighter, each flame now leaning toward her slightly, drawn in by her power.

She must have been a fire elemental of some kind, he’d thought. Or maybe a sorceress who’d given into the Power brought by fire. Either way, Geralt couldn’t take his eyes off her.

His fascination had only grown when she spotted Jaskier from across the room and her guarded face erupted into a wide and open smile. A smile that turned defensive as soon as she locked eyes with him over the table.

She bared her teeth and sent a surge of power through the room, flames flickering around them. How did Jaskier even meet this woman?

“What the fuck, Jaskier?” he said, pushing up from his seat and reaching for his sword, a confusing mix of defensiveness and jealousy settling in his gut. How and where did his soft, flowery friend meet someone like this?

***

“Okay, first of all, thank you both for agreeing to this.”

“I would never have agreed had I known –”

“Jaskier you son of a –”

“Okay, sorry! Sorry! That was a mistake, I admit that, I’m sorry,” Jaskier said, rambling, “but look, Y/N, you’re always saying how you wished you could find someone who saw you for who you are and not what you are.” He turned to you as he spoke, cupping his hand gently over your elbow, urging you to uncross your arms.

“And Geralt, please don’t kill me for this,” he blurted, placing his other hand next to the witcher’s on the table, “you’re too lonely for your own good, and I thought maybe if you met Y/N, someone who could match you, you could, I don’t know…”

“Wait,” you interrupted him, laughing despite yourself, “you’re saying this is a romantic set-up and not a,” you brought your hand across your throat in a mock-slice, “murder-for-hire set-up?”

“Now, wait, hang on. Why would I kill you?” Geralt said, speaking over your realization defensively, as if he didn’t reach for his sword when you made eye contact. “I’m a witcher, not a damned assassin.”

“Because I’m,” you hesitated and glanced around you to make sure no one was looking before briefly demonstrating by drawing a flame up in your hand and extinguishing it just as quickly. Jaskier was looking at you so softly, his eyes betraying the way he pitied you, but Geralt? He was looking at you like you’d just juggled the bread rolls on the table rather than summoning fire.

“Why would that be reason enough to kill you? You’re not a monster.”

“Tell that to every village I’ve ever dared to call home.” You scoffed.

“Geralt can relate!” Jaskier said, jumping in far too loudly and with too much exuberance. “People have been wrongly treating him like a monster for years!”

“Jask!” Geralt hissed, looking pissed and, wait, was he embarrassed?

“Sorry!” he squeaked, throwing up his hands as he got up from the table. “I am going to get us another round, the two of you… get to know each other.”

You watched your idiot friend rush over to the bar for a beat before rolling your eyes. “I can’t believe he did this.”

“We could take him if we team up,” Geralt said, a mischievous glint shone in his eyes when you looked back at him.

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you then, nor could you stop the blush that crept up your neck when you saw the witcher’s face break into a wider smile.

“Yeah,” you breathed, uncrossing your arms so you could lean over the table toward Geralt conspiratorially, glowing under his open and earnest gaze, “I think we’d make a good team.”