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bby-deerling · 6 months

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death's touch (zoro x reader nsfw)

zoro gets himself all jealous and worked up over nothing, smut ensues! afab!reader, same continuity as my other zoro x reader fics, but as always they can be read as standalones (i'll make a masterlist eventually...)

nsfw, 18+, mdni, wc 3.7k

cw for alcohol consumption, tipsy sex

Roronoa Zoro thought he knew what jealousy was. He had completely dismissed it as an irrelevant emotion, a brief needle prick at his heart when the curly-browed freak mooned over you. Like a mosquito bite, it was a brief annoyance that was forgotten as quickly as it came. So why did it bother him so deeply that Traffy was following you around the ship like a stray cat, lurking in your shadows?

He respected Trafalgar Law as a man, a reluctant drinking buddy, and even as a swordsman, but on the way from Dressrosa to Zou, he had gotten far too close with you for his comfort. For a man that was so often brooding and intense, it was strange to see him opening up and rambling to you about coins, or intensely discussing books the two of you had both read. He even was disrupting the usual morning rituals you shared; during breakfast when you, as usual, move to quietly snatch a few extra pieces of bacon from his plate, Zoro grabs your wrist and teasingly calls you a gremlin. Before he can drop the façade, cave to the power of your mischievous grin and throw you his scraps, the surgeon had already quietly slid a few pieces of his own onto your plate.

It didn’t help that the two of you had toned down your already limited public displays of affection in an attempt to hide your relationship from Law; after all, he was a temporary ally. However, as a side effect, Zoro was barely sleeping, restless without you pressed against him. He had become accustomed to entangling your limbs together and napping out on the deck at least twice a day, and he was missing it like hell. Only getting to drown himself in the comfort of your skin at nights while the two of you kept watch was beginning to slowly drive him insane.

The rest of the crew thought you were fighting; the rumor had started as an observation from Nami at the abnormal distance you two were keeping over the past few days, followed by Usopp blowing it out of proportion and spreading it around to other members of the crew. The mere notion offended Zoro. The two of you were so in tune with each other’s needs that you had never even gotten into so much as an argument. Rare feelings of irritation that cropped up were fixed with a rough sparring session, voicing your feelings without words and smoothing them over with massages and long, relaxing baths. You two simply understood each other, as deeply as two people possibly could. So why was Traffy always staring at you with that glint in his eyes as if he knew exactly what was swirling around in your beautiful mind?

His chest nearly bursts as he stares at you sitting next to him at the bar, the glow of the aquarium casting a soft blue hue on your face. You speak, but the blood in his head pounds so loud that he doesn’t catch the name of the drink you request from the cook. He’s about to lean in and tease you about the hangover you’ll inevitably have the next day, the one you get every time the idiot cook serves you these fruity cocktails, but Law beats him to it, rambling in his usual dry monotone about the health effects of sugary alcoholic drinks. Zoro clenches his jaw in annoyance, even though he knows damn well if you were telling him the exact same information he would’ve been completely engrossed in the conversation.

Sanji whispers something in your ear as he slides your drink across the bar; it’s a cosmopolitan—one of your favorites. Preferring to drink his sake straight, he only bothers learning the name of cocktails that you like, since he knows he’ll have to figure out how to make them for you some day when the shitty cook isn’t around to wait on you hand and foot.

“For the last time, we’re not fighting, blondie!” he hears you hiss at the cook, drinking about half of your carefully crafted drink in one swig. No matter how hard you tried, you could never manage to drink slowly, which often led to you throwing up until your entire body was left shaking. He catches himself wondering if Traffy would still be enamored with you if he had to deal with you puking over the side of the boat. Would the surgeon find your futile endeavors to match the pace of someone twice your size endearing in the same way that he did? Given Law’s usual intolerance for goofy antics and drunken shenanigans, probably not.

Zoro’s train of thought is broken when you swing around on your bar stool to face him, slotting your legs in between his, then spreading them slightly to make sure your thighs were pressed together. If you were both sober, he would’ve had the willpower to only allow the touch to go on for a few moments before pulling away, but his current haze of liquor and envy made him feel like he had something to prove. A lovestruck smile was plastered across your face, staring up dreamily at him. Heart on your sleeve, he appreciated that your emotions were always unabashedly raw, open, and on display; it saved him a lot of guesswork and allowed you to talk without speaking in your own secret, silent language.

It also fed his ego tremendously that just the thought of him had you so worked up that it was shamelessly written all over your face.

“Tipsy yet, lil’ demon?” he murmurs lowly to you, already knowing the answer. The right amount of alcohol in your system always turned you into a tease.

“Mhm!” you hum; satisfaction blooms in his chest when your face flushes bright red at the sound of his voice. Mischief laces your eyes as you ask, “Got any sake for me tonight?”

Zoro knew the game you were playing very well, but he couldn’t help but fall for it every time. Small whispers laced with innuendo and tiny, teasing little touches that appeared innocent on the surface slowly escalated until one of you couldn’t help yourselves anymore; he had a feeling he was going to be the one to give in first tonight despite the risk involved.

“Not yet.” he teased, sliding your drink closer to you. “Finish this one first and maybe I’ll think about giving it to you.” Your wanting gaze never breaks from his steel grey eye, completely transfixed on his cocky grin; your thighs press even closer to his, amusing yourself at the way the swordsman was already unraveling with such a subtle touch. Zoro’s hand starts to move, intending to discretely trace his fingers across your thigh. Uncharacteristically he found himself not caring who saw, and perhaps hoping that a certain surgeon was staring.

Then, all of a sudden, you’re gone, whisked away to dance with Nami as Brook belts out one of the navigator’s favorite songs. Even with the liquor in your system you have two left feet, but Nami is also too tipsy to judge and simply takes the lead instead. Zoro scowls as the navigator sticks her tongue out and winks at him as she spins you around and pulls you close; he had a feeling she intended to make him suffer tonight for his "wrongdoings" in the completely fictional fight that her and Usopp had concocted in their own minds.

At some point, to your delight, Luffy cuts in, grabbing you and swinging you around. Neither of you are moving in a way that truly qualifies as dancing as per usual; it’s more holding hands and slinging each other across the room with his rubbery arms than anything else. You’re grinning from ear to ear and laughing so hard your sides ache until Luffy slings you a bit too far and accidentally lets go of your hands, hurtling you towards the aquarium tank. Robin spawns a huge hand behind the bar to catch you; however, the collision never comes.

“Room.”

“Shambles.”

A paper napkin gently flutters in the air on its way to the floor, and you’re in Law’s lap, dizzy at the sudden change in acceleration and direction. As soon as you snap out of your disoriented state and realize where you are, you slip off of his thighs and to your feet, but when you try to walk away, you feel a hand at your waist, presumably to stabilize you.

“Be more careful, ____-ya.” he rumbles in your ear as his precise, tattooed fingers teasingly tap the bare skin of your side underneath your cropped shirt, one by one. He does it so smoothly that Zoro wonders if you even registered it.

One, two, three, four, five. Five inked fingers trying to mark his woman, overflowing with light and warmth, with the sick touch of death. Five fingers dig into Zoro’s bottle of sake, one by one, poking holes in the bottle; he sighs and sloppily chugs the rest of the spirits flowing out from the broken bottle as Luffy, Usopp and Franky cheer. He doesn’t dare look up at Sanji as he slams the empty bottle on the table—the last thing he needs to see right now is that twirly-browed cook giving him a shit-eating grin, or worse, having to hear his whiny voice taunt him.

Instead, his glance ends up meeting Nami’s, something he immediately regrets upon seeing the absolutely evil look on her face as she approaches.

“Apple pie shots!” she demands. Zoro sighs in relief. That didn’t sound too bad. She calls you over, insisting her shot was first. She leans her head back against the bar, mouth open as you and Zoro take turns pouring pieces of the recipe in. Vanilla vodka, apple cider, a smidge of cinnamon, finished off with a squirt of whipped cream and swished together in her mouth. Her thumb runs across her lips, and she slurps up the excess whipped cream with a pop, nearly killing Sanji from blood loss in the process as she trades places with you.

Zoro can barely focus as he helps Nami pour the same concoction into your mouth. One of his hands gently strokes the side of your face, brushing stray strands of hair away from your mouth as a feeble excuse to touch you. He had planned it all out in his head, strategically placing his fingers so he could catch the spare whipped cream from your lips on his thumb, but Nami somehow beats him to it.

“You witch!” he hissed under his breath.

“Better luck next time, Zoro!” she teases. “Maybe if you apologize to her about whatever you’re fighting about, I’ll let you get away with it next time.”

“We’re not fighting!” Zoro exclaims, frustrated. He glances over at you, lost in your own world, head still on the table and buzzing with the pleasant rush of alcohol, a dopey smile on your face.

“Yeah right! You’ve both been acting weird since we got back on the ship. And I just know it’s your fault!” Nami replies, pointing at the swordsman, making him roll his eyes.

Her hands wave in front of your face to get your attention, and you sit up with a smile. “Want another?” she asks. “I bet I can get Law to pour for you if you want!”

Blood floods into the swordsman's ears as his head begins to pound, senses clouded; he entirely misses the longing stare you give him as Nami rambles on about something else that was probably meant to piss him off. Zoro nearly loses his temper. He wants to tell Nami to quit screwing around and interfering with something that’s none of her business, tell the insufferable idiot cook to stop giving him that smarmy look he keeps catching in his peripheral vision, and tell Trafalgar Law to keep his damn hands off his woman.

Before he can do anything but clench his jaw in frustration, your eyes widen before clamping your hand over your mouth and dashing out of the aquarium bar, headed up towards the deck—Luffy swinging you around like a makeshift amusement park ride probably didn’t do wonders to stabilize your stomach. He’s about to run after you, switch flipped in his brain as he prepares to spend the night taking care of you. However, he is stopped dead in his tracks by the navigator and the cook laughing hysterically.

“What’s so damn funny?” he asks, eye narrowed.

“I think that’s the worst excuse to sneak away that you guys have come up with yet.” Nami giggles, motioning to the empty space on the bar, puzzling the swordsman, staring blankly at the tabletop.

“Earth to idiot moss-head,” the cook says, waving his hands in front of the swordsman’s face, “she took the whipped cream with her.”

He knew you like the back of his hand and as a result, you rarely surprised him; however, he hadn't expected you to break first tonight, especially from such a small amount teasing.

Zoro’s out the door before he can catch a lecture from Sanji about wasting food.

As if. He’s never been more hungry in his life.

He’s fast, but you’re faster, slipping into the girls’ quarters, out of your clothes, and into your most revealing nightgown before he can catch up to you.

“Need you.” you whisper when he slams the door shut, locks it, and stalks towards you. “Need you so bad Zoro.”

“Need you too…” he murmurs as he backs you into the dresser, pressing his knee between your thighs and biting down on your neck. His tongue gently soothes the skin marked by his teeth, and he smirks when he hears you gasp.

Pulling back slightly, knee still firmly pressed between your legs, he gently taps your jaw with his fingertips and grabs the can of whipped cream. “Open up, pretty girl.” he whispers as you comply. He squirts some in your mouth, and you make a show of leaving more than usual on your lips.

“Messy girl… Can’t have you wasting food…” he teases as he licks the corner of your mouth.

Zoro tries so hard to not lose himself in the ecstasy of your lips and maintain his slow, teasing pace as he licks up every last bit of the sugary cream from around your mouth, but he just can’t help it when your slender fingers rake through his hair and pull him into you, tongues frantically mixing together. One of his hands caresses your face as he deepens the kiss, and the other trails up your thigh underneath your nightgown. You whine against his mouth as his hand nears, and then slips past where you need it most, rubbing circles into your hip bones with his thumb. His hand wanders further upward, gripping your waist. He presses his fingertips into your skin over and over again, trying frantically to scrub away the surgeon’s touch. You realize what he’s doing, and gently run your thumb across his jaw, prompting him to pull back and look into your eyes that were brimming with concern.

“I’ve had enough of the grim reaper hovering around you.” he rasps out.

He curses the fact that he knows his eye is giving his bleeding heart away; however, he knows his feelings would eventually present themselves to you in some other way. They always did, and you always received them with the dignity, care, and respect they deserved. He protected the crew with his body, but you were the only one who could be trusted to protect his heart and soul.

The next few exchanges you share are nonverbal.

Your hand falls to his shoulder, tracing soothing lines across his collarbone, still locking eyes with him. “Zoro, it’s not like that.”

His thumb gently strokes your cheek, gaze hardening. “I know. He still crossed a line.”

The light in your eyes dims slightly, eyebrows beginning to knit with worry. “I’m s—”

His lips slam against yours, intending to stop your train of thought in its tracks. “Don’t you dare apologize. Not when you’ve done nothing wrong. Not when you’re being so good for me.”

His grip on your waist gets stronger, still trying to wipe away Law’s touch as you both become consumed by each other. Mind fuzzy with the blend of alcohol and pleasure, Zoro feels absolutely drunk when he drops his hand downward and feels the pool of arousal already coating your thighs. Your moan vibrates against his mouth as he traces his index finger along your slit, causing you to buck your hips against him; for a demon, he feels awfully close to heaven as he turns you into a mess with his touch.

“Pretty girl… getting so wet for me…” he mumbled against your lips as he lifts your lower half off the ground; wrapping your legs around him tightly, he carries you to your bed.

Mouths still locked in an intense kiss, his hand goes back to teasing your core, fingers tracing the outline of your hole but pulling back before they can sink in. Lewd, muffled moans and pleas for him to bury his fingers inside of you rolled off your tongue, still tasting of whipped cream, booze, and a hint of cinnamon. Finally, he gives in and sinks a finger inside of you, making you gasp out. He’s painfully slow with his movements, and when he adds another finger and starts curling them upward, you’re a complete mess.

His thumb starts circling your clit, staying right where it should despite the way your hips shudder against his touch, desperate for more friction.

“The ink on his fingers is pretty, but there’s no way he could get you to fall apart like this, is there?” he whispers in your ear. A string of lewd, unintelligible sounds falls off your lips in response; he smirks knowing he’s got you close.

“Let go, pretty girl… cum for me…” he says in your ear, and smirks as the movement in your hips becomes erratic.

“That’s my girl…” he murmurs as your blood rushes to your cheeks, orgasm crashing like a wave across your body.

The moan you let out as he pulls his fingers out of you and replaces them with his cock nearly causes him to immediately spill into you, but he collects his composure, thumb continuing to circle your clit slowly and gently. You’re still twitching around him after coming so hard, but he’s determined to push you off the cliff again as he thrusts slowly and deeply inside you.

Pulling back from your lips to get a good look at your face, you have that dreamy look in your eyes again, and he knows he can’t hide it when he involuntarily mirrors your expression back at you.

“You’re mine, y’know that?” you smile, hand stroking his cheek reverently.

Zoro’s hand mirrors your action, in awe of the way you always seemed to be able to tame him, even when he thought he had control. “’Course I do.” he whispers back.

When he resumes his pace, the kisses he presses against your eager mouth and the teasing of your clit becomes more urgent, craving to feel you get off around his cock. Noticing you’re getting close, he flips you over onto your stomach, desperate to bury himself even deeper inside of you.

His breath is hot on your ear, and your strangled gasps are hot and humid as your face presses into your pillow. His pace picks up, both with his thrusts and his motions on your clit, nearly sending you over the edge.

“Who’s the only one that can fuck you like this?” he asks, his deep voice sending tingles through your whole body.

“You, Zoro…” you reply, words muffled by your pillow.

“Didn’t catch that,” he says, slowing down and causing you to whine and grind your hips against his hand, “say it again, babe.”

“Roronoa Zoro!” you cry out, making him groan and resume his former pace that had you so close.

“And what’s your name gonna be someday, pretty girl?” he asks, thrusts getting impossibly deeper as he starts to lose control.

“Roronoa ____…” you reply, voice nearly cracking from trying to hold back a moan.

“Damn right,” he rasps, “cause you’re my fucking girl.” The pressure of his fingers against your clit deepens, finally letting you come as your walls flutter around him. He’s not far behind, hips snapping frantically against yours as he paints your insides white.

“Love you.” he murmurs in your ear, collapsed on top of you with his cock still twitching inside you. “Love you so much.”

“Love you more.” you reply with a soft smile, twisting your head so you can plant a kiss on his cheek. “Love you more than anything.”

And you almost fall asleep like that, completely vulnerable with your souls intertwined in your cracked open ribs, until you feel a hand grab your ankle, making you shriek.

Zoro groans and quickly helps you clean up as you both dress, you putting on your nightgown, adding a much more modest robe on top, and him pulling his sweatpants back up, not bothering to put on a shirt. The disembodied hand demands a response from you: thumbs-up or thumbs down. You tilt its thumb up, and Robin unlocks the door and grabs a sweater from her dresser, stepping around your discarded clothes.

“I see you two have made up…” she says, smirking.

“We weren’t fighting!” you both protest simultaneously, causing the archaeologist to chuckle.

“Are you sure? Usopp was spinning quite the tale downstairs…” she continues; trying to weasel more information out of you.

“We were just trying to be discreet in front of our company.” you mumble.

Robin chuckles, hand covering her mouth, “Cat’s out of the bag now. I’ll ask Franky to fix the creak in your bed.” Both of your faces turn bright red as she leaves, mortified and embarrassed like you always were on the rare occasions you were caught in the act. While the crew all knew of your attachment to each other, you both preferred for anything more intimate than a kiss on the forehead to remain private when possible.

Alone once more, Zoro spins you around to face him, and places his forehead against yours as he holds you. The serene smile on your face is filled with love and peace, and he succumbs to the overwhelming urge to ignore your crewmates for the rest of the night, pull you close and keep you in his arms as long as possible.

The pangs of jealousy that had wormed their way into his skin earlier were long forgotten, rolling off him like one of the cook’s stupid insults. In fact, he caught himself feeling glad that Traffy had made a friend, despite his constant dismissal of most of the crew save for Robin. Especially a friend as loyal and understanding as you. Maybe you could even convince him to quit being so damn miserable and lighten up for once.

He almost laughs at the thought as he runs his fingers through your hair and presses aimless kisses along your jawline. That’s a tall order, even for a ball of sunshine like you.

#one piece x reader #x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece smut #mdni #18+ mdni #this was supposed to be short and sweet... then i couldn't stop writing...#zoros being kinda melodramatic here but blame it on the alcohol #obsessed with soft zoro sorry not sorry

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princesssmars · 5 months

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sub! stiles with witch!reader... 18+

this could be read as a tie-in to either of my stiles and witch!reader works, but im just so obsessed with the idea of a more subby stiles. as much as i love the fics with a more dominant version of him i just cant get over him being the submissive in your relationship.

when he meets you and thinks you're so cool and crazy powerful and insanely hot, and you just have this way of making people do what you want that he admires.

(at first, he wondered if it had something to do with your powers affecting how people reacted to you, but when he found out that no, you're just able to get people to listen to you because it's you, incredibly smart and convincing you, he swears he falls a little in love with you.)

but yeah. and his friends don't but they also do understand it. there's you, a powerful but kind of scary ally always dressed in black and other dark colors who doesn't talk much and sometimes brings her black cat that hisses at everyone. and then there's him, a ball of chaotic energy that's always dressed in those corny t-shirts he loves and his beat-up converse and more beat-up jeep. so obviously the first time he introduces you to them they think it's some kind of prank, until later on when he tells a bad joke and the room is entirely silent until you fail to cover up a snort. then they get it

so, he has this amazing and cool girlfriend so why wouldn't he want to just. do everything you say? it doesn't take long for him to let you take the reins. the first few make-outs before you slept together he tried to keep some semblance of dominance, using his hands to rock you down over him on his lap until you would slowly grab his hands in yours and push them above his head. if you ever bring it up he denies it but the first time you did it he came in his pants.

after that its so easy to dominate him even more, not even just in a sexual setting. if he's ever rambling you brush some hair away from his face and remind him to take a breath and drink the specialty tea brew you made for him. you wake him up with polite good morning texts that start nonchalantly but always end with a quote from some poetry or literature book you read that makes him giggle and wanna kick his feet in the hair. don't even get him started on how when you're both hanging out with the others in someone's house you'll sometimes pull the arm move and drag his body into yours. scott pointed out how the first time he saw it stiles had a lovestruck smile on his face and he also vehemently denied this.

but in the bedroom, it's heightened to the maximum, and there's rarely a day where he isn't begging for your touch, sometimes even begging for your attention. if there's one thing you love to do its tease him, occasionally leading him on for a week with touches and looks and whispers into his skin. and as torturous as it is when you do its oh so worth it when you sit with your legs spread, his back pressing into your chest as he whines and moans while you move your palm up and down his dick.

and he is so excited when he realizes that you can bring your powers into the equation. a basic floating spell turns into the best night of his damn life.

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinski smut

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spookyjuicefiction · 6 months

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Violets & Plums: Astarion/Tav, Part 1

Got an idea for an Astarion fic that I just need to start working through and here is as good a place as any. Part 1 of ?

_______________________________________

He had been wrong about her. And he hated being wrong.

He had seen her on the nautiloid, stuffed into a pod and infected with a tadpole just as he had been. He recognized her when he spotted her trudging up the path toward him away from the crash site. He himself had just clawed his way out of the wreckage and was getting his bearings when she and the she-elf emerged from the smoke. An easy target, he thought, quickly preparing a ruse to trap her. She fell right into it, and he was ready to kill her - that is, until their parasites connected.

When he agreed to team up with her and Shadowheart, it was because he planned to use them as human shields should he meet any attackers. Sure, they had the common goal of finding a healer to remove the parasite, but they certainly had no value as serious allies as far as he could tell. Even only being a vampire spawn, they were slow and weak compared to him. Not to mention stupid. He was the obvious choice to lead the pack.

Then why was it that he was standing at the edge of the campsite alone, scowling to himself as the rest of his merry band of companions passed around a bottle of wine and enjoyed each others' company? And why was she the one in the middle, with every adoring eye on her?

Yes, he had certainly underestimated her. Within hours she had every one of them wrapped around her magical fingers, and within a few days they had all deferred to her as their de-facto leader when decisions needed to be made. She seemed to have a gift for reading people, knowing exactly how to charm and persuade them. Her skills of deception even rivaled his own, though he was loathe to admit to his admiration of them.

His pointed ear pricked toward the campfire as new sounds arose; she - Tav - had started plucking a tune on her lute and leading the group in song. He rolled his eyes. Of course she sings, too. How irritating.

It was truly annoying how easily she gained the others' favors. Wasn't he supposed to be the one so well-versed in flattery and charisma? Yet she deigned to engage with them in ways that made his skin crawl, like listening to Wyll's obviously dramatized renditions of his escapades as The Blade of Frontiers. Or allowing Gale to ramble on about his cat - his tressym, as the obnoxious wizard was so fond of correcting them. Shadowheart seemed to like her just because Tav left her alone and didn't ask her too many questions, but chuckled along at all of her jokes at the others' expense. She had even gained Lae'zel's trust after asking her for fighting tips and electing her as the group battlemaster in case of combat. And Karlach took nothing at all - the two have been practically joined at the hip (from a fire-safe distance, of course) since the tiefling joined their camp. She must be hiding something, he thought. No one can be that good at gaining peoples' trust without good reason. He would know.

She tried to read him, too. She made little jokes and comments under her breath only for him to hear, trying to be conspiratorial. She complemented him often, trying to appeal to his vanity. But most obnoxiously, she went toe to toe with him in battles of wit. Any time he threw loaded grenade of snark and vitriol at one of their companions to entertain himself, she threw it right back. It was infuriating, being undermined and bested at his favorite game. That was probably why the others' liked her so much, because she was fond of shutting him up and making him seethe quietly in the back of the line. Nobody else liked him.

Good, he thought. Best to go it alone anyway. Never needed a friend before, don't need one now. As soon as I get this bastard out of my eye, I'll be gone faster than a rat in Cazador's dungeon.

The thought of rats unpleasantly reminded him of his thirst. Typically, he waited until the others were asleep to go off and hunt so they wouldn't suspect the truth about his condition. But seeing as they were all singing (except Lae'zel, of course), he guessed no one would notice if he stalked off.

He took no joy in his kill tonight, feeling grumpy as he continued to brood over his distaste for Tav. Two hundred years thinking of nothing but Cazador and he was finally free, only to spend every moment bemoaning his luck at being stuck with the spellcaster. He drained the boar of its blood and left it carelessly on the side of the path, electing to wander around for the remaining nighttime hours rather than returning to camp. He was too restless to trance anyway. And she was there. She probably conjures butterflies in her sleep and dreams rainbows, the foul beast.

"The hells is that?" asked Karlach, squinting at a large lump on the side of the path.

"Looks like a boar," said Wyll, going over to toe it with his boot, Tav close behind. "It looks... it looks like it's been drained of blood. There's no stain around it. I can't even see a wound."

"That's odd," remarked Shadowheart, quirking an eyebrow. Astarion shifted on his feet, agitated. Shit. He should have taken more care to cover his kill last night. Looking around, he started as he realized Tav was staring right at him.

"Oh, who cares, it's only a boar," he said impatiently, looking quickly away from her, unnerved. "Surely there are more interesting things to investigate. Look, I see goblins mounting an ambush through the gate up ahead. Let's go and kill something." He stalked off, not waiting for a reply and removing his daggers from their sheaths.

"Something on your mind?"

FUCK. Astarion couldn't remember the last time someone had snuck up on him. He had been pacing in a clearing just outside the camp, wondering if Tav somehow knew his secret. He was debating with himself whether he should abandon the group and set out on his own when her voice - the last voice he wanted to hear - startled him. Rounding on her with daggers drawn and his hair standing on end, he fixed her with his most murderous expression.

"Do you make a habit on intruding on people's private contemplations?" he hissed angrily.

"You know better than anyone the advantage of catching someone off-guard," she replied coolly, folding her arms and shifting her weight.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm as he lowered his weapons. He loathed her completely in that moment.

"Only wondering where you were. Looted some good food for supper from those goblins, if you're hungry." She tilted her head. "Or perhaps you've already eaten today."

They regarded each other cautiously as her words hung in the air. He was certain that she knew. Was she afraid he would hurt her, or the others? She could tell them his secret, and they would all turn on him. So what did she want in exchange for her silence? Was she shaking him down?

"I'm not hungry," he replied slowly. Slowly, he raised his empty hands, daggers now sheathed. A gesture of surrender. "I'm happy to keep watch while you all eat. I will ensure no harm comes to anyone."

She narrowed her eyes, seeming to understand the duality of his words. He was promising not to drink from them. After a beat, she replied with a stiff nod. He allowed his tense shoulders to drop. She was promising not to tell them. For now.

Satisfied at their new agreement, Astarion spent the next 2 days coming up with a new plan to manipulate Tav. With her being the the leader of their group, it seemed prudent to ensure that she would protect him should the others begin to turn on him. Much as he despised her, he conceded that she was his best chance to finding a cure for the parasite, and thus his best chance for true freedom from Cazador. If she was already willing to hide his condition from the others, it would not take too much more effort on his part to get her to play completely into his hand. All he had to do was try a little seduction. Even she couldn't best him at that game.

But even has his plan took shape, he could feel his thirst, an ever-present beast clawing up his throat, undermining him. It made him irritable, weak, and unfocused. Instead of charming her, he more often found himself arguing with her, stabbing her with vicious insults about her sorcery, her class, and even her looks. He didn't really even mean them; she had proven herself an adept spellcaster in both battle and everyday application, she seemed to come from a fine, middle-class family in Baldur's Gate, and her looks were perfectly adequate to the average person. Not beautiful enough to tempt Cazador, maybe, but enough that Astarion caught Gale's eyes lingering a little too long a little too often. For some reason, Astarion found that infuriating.

He had lobbed a particularly nasty mockery at her earlier in the day after she had insisted that they all run in to a burning building to rescue some helpless fool, so he was quite surprised to find her clearing her throat outside of his tent that evening.

"Come to shoot a firebolt at me since you didn't quite singe all of my eyebrows off this afternoon?" he inquired bitterly.

She rolled her eyes. "Can I come in?"

This was unusual. No one had ever asked to enter his tent before.

"I suppose," he replied cautiously, and she shouldered past him through the flap. He followed her back inside and she turned to face him, crossing her arms defensively.

"You've been a real arse these last days." She said it with a finality that left no room for argument. He poked at her anyway.

"Well, thank you," he broke into a smile and a shallow bow. "You should see me when I don't have a parasite in my head."

"I've had enough," she continued, as though he hadn't interrupted. "This ends now."

"What are you going to do?" he hissed, joking manner aside as he closed the distance between them threateningly. She was going to tell the others. "You'll be dead before you reach the door."

But as usual, the moment he had the upper hand, she pulled the rug out from under him. "I'd rather you not drink so much as to kill me, since I'm offering it out of the kindness of my heart."

He never could quite get his footing with her.

"Excuse me?"

"If you drink some of my blood, will you stop being such a devil's shite?"

It took considerable effort for Astarion to clamp his jaw shut and rearrange his features to mask his shock.

"You want me to drink your blood?"

"Want is a strong word. But I'm willing to make a small sacrifice for the good of the group if it'll shut you up long enough for us to find this Halsin without your moaning and whining."

"I do not moan and whine," he protested petulantly. "And I absolutely do not promise to shut up. But it will almost certainly improve my mood drastically." He licked his lips at the thought of it, eyeing her pulse point.

"Very well then. I suppose I'd better lay down in case I pass out."

Astarion watched motionlessly as she lowered herself onto his bedroll and swept her hair off her neck. His body seemed unable to move, yet his every instinct told him to tear her open right then and there. At the same time, the sight of her on his bedroll made him feel slightly nauseous - not because of her, but something akin to shame stirred in his abdomen. Just another victim for him to ruin. It was almost too easy. So why the sudden... guilt?

"Can we get on with it? I don't much fancy falling asleep in your bedroll."

Composing himself, Astarion dropped to his knees with a flourish and bent his body over hers. It was horribly intimate, and he could sense her discomfort. He lavished in it.

"Comfortable, darling?" he smirked at her and winked, and she rolled her eyes.

"If you accidentally kill me, you know that Karlach will make sure you burn alive. So, not a drop more than you need."

"Of course, my sweet. No need to worry. Only a teensy little sip and I'll be out of your hair."

She looked like she didn't believe a word, but she turned her head with a sigh, exposing her neck to him.

"It'll only hurt a pinch," he breathed as he lowered himself to her pulse point. He was struck for a moment by her scent - violet and plums and something smoky - before he bared his teeth. He felt her take a breath, and then he sunk his fangs in.

They moaned almost in unison, her in pain, and him in pleasure, as he began to drink. Gods, it was perfect, even better than he had ever imagined it could be. He could've sworn that her blood tasted like violet and plums as it splashed over his tongue. She was clutching his arms for support, and he felt his hand clamp down on her hip to hold her in place. But she didn't try to get up, laying stiffly beneath him as he suckled her lifeblood.

He could kill her. It would be so easy. She would feel like she was falling asleep, and he could drink her as dry as the boar on the side of the road. The image of it rose in his mind; her, pallid, bloodless, slack-jawed. No more stupid singing. No more butterfly dreams.

He retracted his fangs from her quickly, as though she had burned him suddenly. Her grip on his arms had weakened significantly, and her head seemed to loll on her neck.

"Oh dear. Don't pass out, darling."

He scooped his hand under her cheek and turned her face toward him. Her eyes were placid and unfocused, but she was blinking like she was trying to maintain consciousness. Already she looked pale. He bit back the resurgence of the guilty nausea and pulled a pillow under her head.

"Just a moment, love. We'll get you all sorted." His tone was light and airy as he rummaged in his pack for a healing potion, but he was more unnerved than he would've liked to admit.

"There we are." He uncorked the stopper and held her head up, tipping the potion down her throat slowly so as not to choke her. After a few deep breaths, she brought her hand up to her forehead and rubbed her temple.

"I said 'not too much', you arsewipe," her voice was weak, but clearly irritable.

"I can't help that you're so delicious," he cooed, relieved that the potion seemed to recover her somewhat. He noticed that her fingers were trembling, and a shiver wreaked through her whole body. Sighing, he pulled a thick blanket up around her. Her eyes on him were daggers, but she didn't push it off. "Just relax here for a bit. I won't be sleeping anytime soon, after that. It was quite... invigorating."

She eyed him curiously. "You say it like you've never done it before."

Sharp as ever. How did she always know?

"I... haven't. You're my first. My first... thinking creature, that is." He smirked at her, wiggling his eyebrows. "I bet you didn't guess I was a virgin."

She didn't take the bait. "So what did you eat?" Her fingers had stilled against her temple; he had her full attention now. He didn't like how her scrutiny made him feel. Somehow, even though she was so weak she couldn't raise her own head, he was the one feeling vulnerable.

"Oh, rats, flies, roaches, whatever one could find on hand 'round Cazador's dungeons," he said with forced nonchalance, examining his fingernails. "Cazador is - was - my master. I am his vampire spawn." He couldn't bear to look at her, sure he would see pity in her eyes that would make him want to claw his skin off. "How did you know about my condition, by the way?"

"You aren't as subtle as you think you are." His head snapped up at that, insulted. "And I've spent some time studying the condition. One of the guildmasters was hoping to imbibe a potion with some of the properties of vampire blood."

"To what end?" Astarion asked, curiosity piqued.

This time it was she who smirked. "The official story was that the research was focused on creating a more potent healing potion, since vampires are known to have such rapid regeneration. However," she pushed herself up gently on the pillows, "I always suspected they were hoping to create a potion of immortality."

"Well, that would be something," Astarion mused. "However did they get a vampire's blood to experiment with?"

"They didn't. It was all theoretical. I was trained to learn to recognize a vampire if I spotted one, with the hope of obtaining its blood for the research. With permission, or... by force." She looked as though the idea left a bad taste in her mouth. His face must have given his thoughts away as well, since she looked at him and chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to steal your blood. I doubt it would have worked anyway."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well," she sat up further, the color beginning to return to her cheeks, "for one, I don't believe vampirism works in the way most mages think it does. It's not some kind of magical curse imbued with some mysterious arcane properties. I think it's... more like an illness. Like a plague, that can only be passed one way."

"Well, it certainly feels like a curse," Astarion intoned bitterly. "And if it's an illness, I've never heard of a cure."

She shrugged. "It's only a guess. But it is a little exciting to meet one up close, after all my research." She was smiling at him earnestly now, again making him feel uncomfortable.

"You're a strange creature. I just drank your blood and you're excited. One might think you have... odd predilections." He grinned wickedly at her.

She chuckled. "How are you feeling now? Less cranky?"

Astarion took stock of his body as he climbed to his feet. "I feel strong. I feel..." he trailed off a moment, searching for the right word. "Happy."

Tav clamored to her feet as well, with far less grace. She wove unsteadily for a moment, and he caught her waist to ensure she didn't pull his tent down in a fall. They were standing quite close again, and he felt his guard drop for a moment.

"Thank you," he said quietly, "for trusting me. I... this is a gift, you know. I won't forget it."

"I suspect neither will I," she murmured, smiling at him once more. "Well, good night then."

"Sweet dreams."

He watched her walk slowly and tiredly back to her tent on the other side of the clearing, head reeling with everything that had just happened. She had offered herself to him, but not in the way he was used to. She had offered her blood, and she had trusted him to take it. But why? What is there for her to gain?

She wanted him placated, clearly. Perhaps she was as annoyed by him as he was by her and really did just want to shut him up. Maybe she was mounting her own manipulation plan, forcing him to be dependent on her blood to do her bidding. He hated knowing that if she offered again, he would greedily accept. But what reason did she have to trust him so easily not to kill her, when all he had done since they met was insult her? What was she reading about him that he didn't even know himself? The questions plagued him as he hunted that night, wishing every sip of animal blood was hers. He had a taste for it now, and it ruined him. If he had thought about her constantly before, he was doomed now.

As he lay down in his bedroll to trance, he raked his hand over his face. Then, he began to laugh bitterly. All around him, the only thing he could sense was aroma of violet and plums.

Part 2

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion angst #baldurs gate astarion #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #wip

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dogbunni · 1 year

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[begins coughing like a cat about to throw up a furball] [spits up several nendo headcanons and then looks at u proudly]

-nendo collects hot wheels. I have no justification beyond this except that I also collect hot wheels and I think we'd have that in common. if he was real I would take nendo to a toy shop to look at all the hot wheels. just stand there and observe them for an uncomfortably long time. my friends aren't deeply autistic enough to do this with me so I can never observe the little cars for long enough before making a purchase :(

-nendo trans ally #1

-nendo has no idea what his sexuality is but not in a confused/questioning way, in a "I have never thought about it longer than 1 second" way. he likes who he likes and has no thoughts beyond that. he is label-less in a [shrugs shoulders] way. (saiki is also label-less but in a "fuck you" kind of way)

-nendo loves rollercoasters and watches weird essay length youtube videos about theme parks and animatronics. its a hobby that deeply disturbs everyone around him bc this guy cannot do basic math but he can and will channel the spirit of akechi rambling about defunct animatronics. sometimes he shows saiki pictures of animatronics in late stages of decay in horrible pitch black nightmare settings and saiki reacts as if nendo has placed a live cockroach in his lap.

-he has a condiment problem. steals sauce packets from restaurants with diagnosable compulsion.

-he doesn't Get memes. everyone has tried and failed to show nendo a meme. it's like trying to show your mother a funny picture and she holds the phone as far away from her face as she can and then stares at it for way too long before silently handing it back. he just doesn't Get It.

-hes like, really good at making memes though. he will just absently turn a phrase or take an image so absurd that everyone is still saying and reposting and reacting with it years down the line. he has no idea that he has this power

-he feeds stray cats and makes little shelters for them outdoors <3

-nendo and kaido roleplay together sometimes. I'm talking like, warrior cats roleplay. sometimes dark reunion but kaido gets pissy if nendo messes up The Lore. nendo calls it "playing pretend" bc he has no concept of cringe culture and kaido dies inside every time

-he manages to forget his own birthday. every year. saiki remembers though, and it's the one and only day he will ask if nendo wants to get ramen with him, instead of the other way around. it gets to the point that saiki asks if nendo wants ramen, and he says "what, is it my birthday ahaha" and saiki is just like. you goddamn idiot. good grief.

-last time I did one of these I said that nendo loves cute things like sanrio plushies and holds them so gently. well I see that and I am correct, but I raise you nendo thinking that SAIKI is the cutest thing he's ever seen. something about the pink hair and glasses and the little limiter bubbles on his head and his purple eyes and little frowny eyebrows- nendo wants to. hold gently. sometimes he just grabs saiki by the shoulders and stares at him blank in the face and saiki is like [nervously] "what the fuck? what the fuck????"

-he and aiura actually get along weirdly well. they're unhinged in similar flavours and it gets saiki's blood pressure up. he tries at all costs to keep them away from each other. their singular brain cells cancel each other out on sight.

-akechi makes nendo's brain hurt a little. he just can't process all of akechi's akechi-ness and it makes him feel dumb. he's fine with being dumb most of the time but akechi just makes him feel a little self conscious for some reason. (definitely not because he's jealous that akechi was friends with saiki first)

-he still likes the funny lil guy though. akechi's the only one who will enthuse with him about rollercoasters and he values those talks. so much.

-toritsuka is afraid of nendo for some reason. no one is sure why but nendo LOVES it. he's always trying to jump out and scare him. saiki supports nendo in this endeavour ardently. toritsuka suffers.

-nendo falls down the weirdest tiktok rabbit holes. it got so bad once that they got teruhashi to distract him while kuboyasu lifted his phone and deleted the app off of it. it took nendo several months to realise he could redownload it.

#(projects all of my little idiosyncrasies onto nendo)#yeah that tracks #also #(sprinkles a little nensai into my headcanons. as a treat)#nendo posting #i love him a normal amount #saiki kusuo no ψ nan #saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k.#nendo riki #nendou riki #nensai #saiki kusuo

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hgduo · 6 months

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Anyway, Jinx random wartime q!hgduo spitball ramblings/ headcanons/ off-the-cuff analysis ig cuz I like thinking about them ^_^

I think they didn't meet at the start of the games but maybe a few months to a year or two in- I'd say either when Cellbit is about 15 or close to being 15.

By that time both Bad and the currently nameless teenager both had some sort of reputation as dangerous, ruthless, and maybe even downright cruel killers on the battlefield. One way or another they ended up becoming partners much to the horror of everyone else.

For Cellbit he'd recognize that sticking by Bad increased his chances of survival by a LOT and this dude doesn't even get mad when he takes bites out of him which is great.

For Bad I feel like he could've gone through the games alone with not much trouble but staying solo gets stale and lonely after while- he'd have teamed up with other players in the past but they all either died or left him eventually- he thinks it's gonna be no different with Cellbit but is pleasantly surprised when he's proven wrong.

And boy was that a good thing, because Bad has a bad habit of getting attached! He fed this stray cat a few times and now it's following after him and Bad doesn't have the heart to shoo the poor beast away!

Although Bad has much more experience and is vastly older he respects how much fighting skill his teenage partner has- he can hold his own on the battlefield- which is why he doesn't view him as his 'child' or a dependent but somewhere in-between an equal and a protege. Cellbit deferred to his leadership during fights, but theirs still a mutual respect between them.

Later on their bond would end up in a sort of vague area in the middle of a triangle between mentor & protege, equals, and something dangerously close to familial.

I find it hard to doubt that there were times when Bad would be shockingly reminded that his partner is in fact still a child... and perhaps times where Cellbit would find himself relying on Bad the ways a child would their parent or older sibling... Maybe at some point letting his funny little friend eat his flesh or spending resources healing him became less about keeping him healthy for the next battle and more about keeping him alive just a little bit longer- Maybe sticking by this powerful ally became less about pragmatism and more about companionship.

That said, as far as Cellbit's concerned he never had a family, as far as Bad's concerned his children are Dapper and Pomme... Cellbit's all grown-up now and so much time has passed that they see one another as something more akin to just 'old friends' who know what the other is capable of and thus know better then to underestimate each other... but I feel as they spend more time with each other again the echoes of the dynamic they once had become more tangible- especially given the major toll of the eggs being missing. Cellbit knows he can turn to Bad if he needs him and Bad will look out for Cellbit when he can even as he is (quite ltierally) falling apart.

Maybe sometimes even now he still can't help but see that nameless kid when he looks at Cellbit.

I honestly don't think Bad regrets the way he guided Cellbit during the war- nor do I believe that Cellbit harbors any resentment over Bad's influence in his life- even if it's left him with the same sort of fucked morals his former guardian has, his terrible self-sacrificial tendencies, and who knows what else. The reality of their situation during the games could never allow for softer forms of kindness- there was no time for them to be a 'family' and no time to think about what happens 'next' after this is all over. Bad couldn't teach Cellbit how to live, but he could teach him how to survive.

I haven't really settled on what I think happened at the end of the 'war' when they part ways... but sometimes I do think about how in the actual video Cellbit dies at the very end and man that can be interpreted in a lot of interesting ways- like obviously in qsmp canon Cellbit survives the war but it's still fun to take that into consideration!

Anyway, you know those images of predator animals with blood covered on their faces after eating a tasty meal- yeah that's them during the hunger games to me LOL

... Also does anyone else find it really funny that Foolish's adopted son and Badboyhalo's protege ended up getting married like- something about that is just really funny to me... Also I'm surprised no one has done anything about how the dude taken in by a totem of undying found love with the guy who was guided by a grim reaper like- I feel like there's some cool potential there!

Ty for reading all of that- or skimming it that's cool too! I just wanna say despite liking q!Bad and q!Cellbit a lot I do NOT consider myself to be super knowledgeable about them as characters, I just have a major soft spot for dynamics like theirs and wanted to ramble LOL so um yeah:

#long post #qsmp #hgduo #gossipduo #badboyhalo #cellbit #jinx ramblings #i feel nervous making this post but I've been wanting to post about my takes on their dynamic for awhile now lol

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