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pursuitseternal · 4 months

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“Antics of the Newly Ascended:” ✨🩸What it must have been like right after the Rite for… everyone…

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 4.4K of “Ascension Puberty” and Smut

Summary: “I can’t yet speak its language…” Astarion doesn’t know all his powers, despite the title of Vampire Ascendant, despite having a Bride at his side. Suppose these manifest themselves surprisingly, even awkwardly… a bit of comedy and smut.

CW: awkward campmates, Vampires stuck on the ceiling, peacock-preening Ascendant Lords, Bride/Spawn Tav also learning what it means to be a vampire, and the hot smut that always delivers (oral sex, hand job, anal fingering, blood kink, dom and sub!Astarion)

Ao3 Link | Astarion fic Masterlist

The First Day…

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A/N: Mostly, I consider this Astarion’s Ascension puberty, that awkward time he’s getting to know his “changing” body… and how it might surprise him sometimes. In my own play-thru, it strikes me that after the Rite, it’s just life as usual for everyone. I like to think there are some lingering feelings and learning curves… so here is some comedy and smut (a gift to @marimosalad because the double stimulation towards the end was her amazing idea 😘)

Not quite “The Rogue You Were” maybe a prequel

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You had heard he had demanded his own room now at the Elfsong. Wyll had told you, his one good eye rolling in its socket with ire. “His Lordship demanded a separate chamber for him and his.. consort,” he had spat the word out with disgust in your direction, “one that befits his new status and power of Vampire Ascendant.” Wyll sneered, put out, jilted. That forever part of him that was a monster hunter and hero still unable to wrap his mind around what you did for love. “You best not keep him waiting, Consort.”

Someday, the Blade of Frontiers might understand. But not today, not one day into Astarion’s reign as Ascendant and your new immortal life at his side.

Now you creep outside his door, just one room over. The same he had stolen you away to last night… when you became his, when you died to be reborn his consort. He had pointedly refused to really call you spawn. And while the memories of that night were hazy, aside from the most glorious sex of your existence, you knew whatever was done was done.

You waited, your hearing even sharper now, heightened as vampire. From behind the door you hear groaning, grunts of effort, and sighs of exertion.

And you frown. Could he really be… taking care of himself… after everything you had done with him last night? Even now this evening, with you merely a wall away? Like you wouldn’t come running for pleasure if he called for you, with or without compelling?

You knock on the door. Hard. Furious. If your heart still beat, it would be racing in rage.

“Leave me,” he barks back.

“Astarion,” you hiss. And then you knock harder. “Let me in.”

Inside, you hear scrambling, boots scraping on wood. A messy hurry of activity punctuated by curses.

If you hadn’t been there yesterday, hadn’t felt the lives of so many flow into your beloved, hadn’t been spattered by Cazador’s blood yourself as the same Infernal ruins were carved in his flesh… you would scoff at the suggestion Astarion was at all changed.

You finally hear the door handle unlock, and riding the swell of your self-righteous anger, you burst in.

“After all I have done for you… all I did to get you that Ascension, all the times I spread my legs, you insist on…”

You freeze. The door behind you shuts by magic. And looking up beside you, you see why. “Astarion,” you begin, much quieter, trying to stifle a laugh, if only from the pure irritation that seethes on his sharp face, “why are you on the ceiling?”

He hangs upside down, that mess of silver curls near standing on their ends. His face is flushing, that newly reborn heart letting all that magnificent, ascendant blood rush to his head. He folds his arms and spreads his legs. As if he could be intimidating while being inverted.

“I told you this morning, my treasure, it will take some time to become acquainted with my new self.”

You scan the room, skin tingling at the memories of pleasure not one day ago. And yet, here he was being more ridiculous than ever before. “So… the private room isn’t just for mind-blowing sex now that you and I are joined for eternity…” you fight the smirk on your lips as his upside down glower deepens. “It’s so you have some privacy as you… practice.”

“Don’t you dare… tell the others,” he growls, pure irritation and annoyance seething in his voice.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love,” you chuckle, extending your arm above your head as you walk beneath him. “Need a hand, my beloved vampiric master?”

He pouts, grumbling, but reluctantly reaches to grab you. His fingers wrap into yours, that warm touch of his still shocking and foreign. You pull with all your might, feeling his body release from the ceiling, floating as you tug him down until his feet rest beside yours.

He’s fuming, chest rising and falling beneath that elegantly embroidered tunic he has taken to wearing.

You grin, reaching to stroke his cheek as his parlor resumes that pale luster you know and love. Cleaning your throat, you purr, “And this is where you say…”

“Take off your clothes, my beloved consort,” he smirks and sneers at once, jutting his face into yours until you feel his warm breath on your lips.

“Not until you say…” you pause, arching your brows.

You wait. His lips fluttering, eyes boring into yours with almost glowing red intensity.

“….thank you,” he finally grumbles. Barely audible.

You turn your head, cocking your ear in his direction. “I’m sorry, what was that, my lord?”

“Thank you,” he replies louder through gritted teeth.

You can’t help but have another giggle tickle your throat. “I have no doubts you’ll master your powers in time, and until then, I’ll be here for you, my love, to lend you a hand.”

He gives an annoyed sigh. “By the hells, if the others find out…” he hisses, mad at himself rather than you.

“I think I can keep my mouth shut around them, and busy doing other things around you…” you close the distance between you, small as it might be, raising on your toes to press your lips against his, despite the disdainful pout.

“Hmmm tempting, but I do find myself rather famished…” he pats you on the cheek.

You grin, tilting your neck and sweeping your hair, an offering to sate him as you always have. You hold your breath, his lips hovering over that favorite vein of his. But he merely plants a small pecking kiss. “Delicious as you are, I think I’m in need of something more… filling.”

“Food?” you balk, jaw dropping as he catches your hand and opens the door.

“All of man’s appetites and desires are mine again, and after two-hundred years of food like ash and wine like vinegar, it’s time I started tasting all life has to offer.”

He turns, his face grins in power, but there is something in his eyes. Giddy, almost childish in excitement, like waking to presents on your birthday. It lasts a flickering second before he turns his head. You follow, hand held in his warm grip, led back into the common rooms. The scent of roast pork and vegetables fills the air. He lets your hand drop, making quick strides to the serving table before carving himself a huge hunk of meat off the carcass and ladling a pile of potatoes on the side of his dish.

“Well,” Wyll comments as the vampire settles down in a seat, “never thought I’d see the day when a vampire joins the feast with more than a goblet of blood.”

“First time for everything Wyll,” he croons in reply, taking a hearty bite just for emphasis. He doesn’t even wait to swallow completely before he continues. “First time a vampire ascendant has feasted, or existed, at all, don’t you forget.”

“I doubt you’ll let us,” Karlach teases before taking a sip of ale as ripples of laughter break out.

A bit nervously.

You look at the food, your stomach more than hungry, but… You recall as you lick your lips and catch your new fang on your tongue by accident, it’s not just food you crave.

You hear your name from the group, Karlach again breaking the chatter, “Hurry up, dish yourself a plate and get moving soldier. It’s not the same without you!”

You pick up the knife and begin to carve, but nagging thoughts won’t shut up. Can you even eat this? Can you ever feel full again? Can it ever be the same again, now that you’ve binded yourself to immortality?

A hand rests on yours, Astarion moving your hand in his to finish cutting a slice of pork for your dish, spooning out a helping on the side of the rest. “Eat, my treasure,” he orders softly with that sly smile. “Things won’t be all that different for you now.” You look into his eyes. Sincerity, pride, a flicker of concern. “Things will be different for you than when I was a spawn. You are mine, your veins hold my blood, ascendant blood. And besides, if this doesn’t fill you to bursting, my dearest pet, I suppose I’ll just have to offer you something else in the privacy of our room later.”

You arch a brow, stomach growling at the promise. “I hope you mean more than your cock, Astarion.”

He just grins wider. Feral and sly. Then he places a hand at your back and brings you to the rest of your party. You can sense the relief among everyone else once you sit down on the little couch, Astarion settling so close beside you, your arms rub with every movement. But that is nothing new.

Everyone falls right back into that perfected camaraderie, the only thing missing in the inn is a campfire. The banter and the toasting and the storytelling of the day's events to those who remained behind.

Tonight was no different… and yet, everything was.

Your ears seem to hear every word in the room, more sensitive, more overwhelming. Your stomach gnaws on itself, the plate of food on your lap untouched yet. And then, there is the utterly unfamiliar sound beside you, the gnashing of Astarion’s teeth as he bites into his food with abandon. You watch from the corner of your eye. He can’t seem to shovel it in fast enough… like a man who hasn’t had a morsel to eat in two-hundred years. It’s so… strange. Watching his jaw work furiously, watching the juice of his meal trickle from the corner of his mouth.

Not unlike when he has fed on you, you laugh inwardly. You reach your thumb to clean it for him, and it makes him turn, cheeks full of food, eyes smiling. He takes your thumb in his hand, pressing the juice to your own lips. A silent command to suck. You close your eyes, savoring the brush of his warm touch, hiding your sight from having to observe the others watching you.

You part your lips and suck… stomach rolling in hunger, appetite thoroughly whet with just that drop on your tongue.

You feel his face press against your ear to whisper, “Different for you than it was for me, my treasure…”

You shake him off, too hungry for sensuality, digging into your meal and joining the banter slowly.

Astarion remains mostly silent, laughing to himself here and there. Other than him eating and drinking, he is right however, it isn’t all that different now, you observe. Not yet anyway.

Not until he has you alone in your rooms once more. Hands gripped hard into your hair, cock thrusting down your throat as you kneel before him. You gag and sputter, sucking greedily. Indulging him. Letting him feel that power he’s gained in his life for once. His wild smile as he watches you taking him in so well makes you practically drip on the floor from between your legs. He pants relentlessly, growling praises over you, his little love, his good girl, his greedy consort.

New words, new titles, same obsession.

Same fingers caressing your jaw as it works eagerly, same touch clawing into the back of your head.

Only now his cock pulses with his heart, his skin flushed, his cum warm when it inevitably trickles down the back of your throat.

You swallow, pursing your lips around his cock so he feels every little ripple of your cheeks, your throat. Astarion pants above you, and you can count every one of his heart beats through his shaft in your mouth. “Glorious little love,” he manages to speak, swallowing to wet his throat. “Claiming a kingdom is nothing compared to the sight of claiming you on your knees, darling…”

Two fingers slip under your chin, pressing firmly to release his cock from the wet of your mouth. “On your feet, my love,” he smirks. “Time to give your master all his tribute.”

“You are enjoying this far too much, Astarion,” you purse your lips, smiling faintly and tauntingly as you do stand. “I think you should allow me to choose how you receive your… what did you call it?” You plant your hands on the expanse of his shoulders, feeling the muscles moving under your touch as he reaches to grip into the swell of your ass.

“Tribute,” he purrs, squeezing that fullness commandingly in his palms.

“Oh yes, that,” you tease, devious twists to your lips as you give him a firm shove. But he holds tight, sending you both backwards into the bed. His chuckle rumbles in his chest beneath you. “Why doesn’t my lord make himself… comfortable,” you whisper into his pointed ear, watching it twitch as you run your tongue up its long edge.

“What do you have in mind to please me, my treasure?”

You press him down, clambering on his sprawled, flawless body beneath you, your hands closing around his wrists. His smile says it all as he lets you pin him, arms bent around his mess of silver locks. “You’re so… hot,” you moan, sliding yourself over his erection, feeling it jolting as your body slathers it in arousal.

“I know,” he tilts his head, flashing his fangs and grinding into your folds.

“No, I mean…” His eyes narrow, a flicker of suspicion. “Yes,” you correct with a giggle. “You are heartbreakingly handsome, devastatingly beautiful, ruinous…”

“Better,” he preens with a feral grin. “But you meant my body, my skin, my newly beating heart…”

“It is… different,” you hum, nuzzling into his neck, caressing those two little circular scars that made him what he is. His pulse beats against you, a steady drumming that still startles you.

“Almost as different as the way you make me even harder, darling, now that the mere sight of you demands instant arousal…” His hips buck through your folds again, just to demonstrate. “Now… about your adulation and homage that’s long overdue to your lord and master…”

“Shh,” you press a finger to his thick, wicked, smirking lips. Slinking down, a toss of your hair over one shoulder, and you meet his crimson eyes, dilated wide and glazed with his lust. Gently, you sweep both your hands over the sinews of his thighs, bending his knees for him.

Or, at least he lets you…

He nestles into the bed, languorous, luxuriating atop the thick covers. You let him. You can feel the difference in his being—not the power, the beat of his heart or the tingle of untamed magic that dances erratically in his touch from time to time.

He’s free. Not a care in the world. No fear, no anxiety, not even a trace of suspicion that he might be caught and forced back into hell under Cazador. He has everything now. Even you. Especially you.

You hover there, arms propped up over his hips, the tip of his cock wavering against your breasts as you just observe him. His lips twitch into a smile. “It’s rude to keep your lover waiting, you know…” he purrs. You chuckle. That veneer of power, that rasp and roll in his voice, a performance to sway you.

Not that you need it.

But it will be fun cracking that veneer all the same. You let your hands roam his body, massaging and caressing the powerful muscles of his legs. Their every definition you know by heart now, the glide of his skin on yours a nightly comfort and pleasure for you both.

Your new eyes can count every beat of his heart in his veins, your ears can almost hear that rush of blood pumping, making him achingly hard for you. And it makes you lick your lips. You lap inside his left thigh, bringing a giggle to his throat. “Don’t think I’ll leave you hungry, my pet, but pleasure first.”

“Say please,” you taunt, grazing your new fangs over his skin. As he has done to you a thousand times before.

“What?” he drolls, raising his head a little, your hand flying to the hard planes of his belly to hold him down.

“Say… please… my lord,” you smirk into his thigh, laughing to yourself as you mix submission into your demand.

“Eager to test your new powers as well? Can’t say I’m surprised…” he feigns a dramatic huff. “Alright pet, just this once. Give me my pleasure first…” he places a hand at the back of your neck, drawing you back between his legs, “…please.”

“Good boy,” you rasp before running your tongue up his shaft. You dip your lips over that seeping head of his, his groan of pleasure reverberating in his chest. Your hand, your mouth take him in deeply again, resuming a more delicate pressure, a gentler pace than he demanded of you before. It relaxes him, slowing his pleasure as you feel his skin heating all the more.

And you take full advantage of his ease.

You press a thumb over the tight little pursing of his ass. Instantly making him shake and groan. Both your hands play in tandem, drawing louder and louder hisses from his slack mouth as you beat his cock and circle that hole.

He squirms at the unexpected contact. A pant of need sounds from his mouth. You run your hand through your folds, covering your hand in your own slick, and he laughs knowing full well what you’re doing.

But that laughter melts once you sneak a finger and then two inside him, the delicious sound of his whimpers replacing any giggles. “Gods,” he mewls, “don’t you dare stop.” He manages to speak between the grunts you pull from his throat. Thrusting your fingers deeper inside him crooking and thrusting to make him catch his breath in pleasure. You feel his cock leaking seed down your fingers already, a whine escaping his clamped lips as you find that spot inside him. Cock jolting in your touch as you thrust into him again and again.

You lose no focus on that pulsing cock as well, your hand around his shaft sliding through the lingering spit and slick you’ve left dripping on his cock. His whole body shakes, and you can’t take your eyes off the way he’s coming undone. You’ve given up sucking him, your lips sore at any rate.

Instead, your hands work a magic on him, sweat beading on brow, fangs biting his own lips until they bleed. He clutches the bedding in his fists, and you watch as every vein in his arms strain to the surface with the exertion.

Hips buck in time with your fist around his cock, ass sinking back down on your fingers as he plummets back down each time. “More. I’d like more,” he groans hard, head wagging back and forth. You feel his muscles clenching around your fingers, and you slink another one inside, a louder whimper of approval is your praise. Words have failed him as he can do nothing now but ride the growing wave of pleasure you have sent washing over his oh-so-mighty and ascended form.

His balls tighten, cock shuddering in your fist as he struggles for breath. Every muscle, inside and out, goes rigid and spasms, your fingers covered as spurt after spurt of his cum erupts everywhere.

A hand flies to his face, palm over his mouth to hide the little pants he’s making as you squeeze out the last of his seed and slide your fingers out from inside.

“Is my lord… so… very… pleased?” you taunt, crawling to watch as he tries to regain composure, to salvage that dominating veneer of power.

Handsome face twitching, he can barely put two words together. “Obviously,” he manages to eke the word out. “That was…” he pauses to pant, body still shaking beneath you with the last tremors of his climax, “…amazing.” His arm comes to pull you into his chest, to press your supple, if cold to the touch, body into his embrace.

You hear it, the racing of his heart as you rest your head on his chest beside it. A slice of envy, of uncertainty, slices into your heart and twists your gut. And from the way his hand paws through your hair and down your back, you’re sure he’s readying himself for another round.

You swallow, hesitant, your thighs clenching as his hand begins to snake between them. He senses it, your unwitting reluctance. That familiar yet unfamiliar warm touch ghosting higher on your leg. “Darling,” he purrs into the top of your head, “something the matter?”

You shake your head even as your words scramble their own way out. “Last night,” you whisper almost inaudibly, “you said you would miss my warm flesh…”

“And…?” He lets the question hang in the air. Lets you speak the rest of it on your own tongue.

“Do you?” you mutter, unable to look into his face, bracing yourself for the worst.

“Not if it means I can plunder you for all your riches for all eternity, my treasure,” he croons, slowly rolling you on your back. Crushing you with his wiry frame until you wriggle against his every inch. “But, if you’re truly worried about how delicious you’ll feel…” he holds his wrist up to your mouth, “why don’t you break in those virgin fangs, my pet?”

“You mean?” you finally look up, the hunger in his eyes, the pride to see you licking your own new-formed sharpened teeth.

“I do indeed, my dark consort,” he smirks so wickedly, your own hunger for his blood and his body flames to life. It blinds you as you look into his eyes. “You’ll only need a taste,” he grins with a rakish tilt of his head, “I swear it.”

He presses the inside of his wrist to your lips, that warm skin brushing you with its softness. You can hear it, even in that small span of his wrist. Thump… thump… it makes your stomach flare, an empty pit, hungrier than you ever were for food.

And just for him.

You press your fangs into his skin. Hesitant.

A firm grip snakes behind the back of your neck, his laughter in your ear as he shoves you into his flesh harder.

Hard enough to pierce him, to let his blood flow on your tongue and tingle your mouth with its power. Rich and delicious, sweet and tanged with just the same flavor as his scent. You suck, greedily, a vague feeling you’ve tasted it before.

His other hand rubs up the back of your head, lacing his commanding touch through your hair, cradling you, keeping you feeding. His eyes flicker shut, tongue licking his lips before his mouth goes slack in his own pleasure.

He likes the way it feels, having you feast on him, drinking down his ascendant blood to pool in your belly.

“Can you feel it?” he murmurs, “my power flowing in your veins… my heart beating in your breast.” His hand ghosts down over your shoulder to cup firmly around that breast. “Your skin is flushing, your folds will swell even fuller the more you take me inside you…”

You release your mouth, a moan slithering from your sticky throat as his fingers pluck and play with your nipple.

“There is no one more worthy of this than you, my little love,” he slides his wrist from your lapping tongue, fingers clawing loosely around your throat to lift you against his own hungering lips. “You need not fear anything, I told you, not even the worry that your immortal flesh would ever repel me, my darling.”

You curl into his arms, letting his warmth seep through you, inside and out. His kiss dances slowly with your lips, his tongue licking all his blood from your fangs and lips. A hum of satisfaction rumbling in his throat, “Mmm… You taste… divine…”

“You mean… you taste divine, my love,” you laugh into his kiss. You place your hand against his neck, softly pushing him off of you.

“I do indeed,” he purrs, his knee shoving your thigh to the side, spreading you wider. “As do you, if I may?” His silver brow arches, wry and mischievous. You tilt your head, your neck already sore from last night, from where he sucked you dry. You hiss, delicious pain slicing through you, his fangs in your neck burying the same moment his cock sheaths into your folds.

Hip undulating slowly, he drinks noisily behind your ear. And you do feel on fire, burning as hot as him, the friction of his thrusts, the trickle of your blood down your neck… they scald you.

They make you feel alive in his arms, alive with him fucking between your thighs.

It’s enough to shatter you in a matter of moments, his lips barely off your bleeding neck before you clench and spam around his pulsing cock. Your voice tears from your throat in a scream. So much fuller and hotter than ever he felt inside your walls. Thicker. Heating you from within. The pressure drives you wild, your climax more intense than ever as you writhe beneath him, as stars cover your vision and pleasure steals your breath.

He laughs again, that tickled giggle to watch you panting to catch your breath, barely able to make a sound more than a whimper yourself. “That’s right, my pet, let them all hear you through these flimsy walls….”

You laugh, breathy and quick, wrapping your thighs tightly around his waist. “So quick to forget what I managed to reduce you to?” You steal a hand back to his clenching ass, returning your touch to that tight little hole.

He gasps, biting his lips as if to keep himself from crying out again. “Don’t you ever tell them,” he growls, smiling with that predacious gleam in the crimson of his eyes.

“I don’t need to,” you can’t help but laugh, letting the words already in your mind already make you smile. Even if they are his own… even if he just might make you pay deliciously for them for the rest of the night, “given the noise you made, I’m sure they already know…”

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ananas-pineapple-thing · 2 years

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So if I send u enough marcia's will u just be . Immortal 👀

YES 👀

#whatever marcellus had going on is CANCELED new method of immortality is IN #asks #sep ✨

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rayroseu · 6 months

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"i want to convey words way more precious than goodbyes"

someone said on twitter that Himmel and Frieren are MalleYuu coded....TRUER WORDS HAVE BEEN SPOKEN... SO I HAD TO 😭😭😭😭💔💔

I drew this inspired by the scene of Himmel's funeral when Frieren cried for him...

Frieren is literally the embodiment of Malleus' struggle (loss of every loved one).... but difference is that she's coping healthily with it... She should take Malleus as her apprentice lol

I really recommend watching Frieren at the Funeral ✨✨✨ I could go on with how Frieren parallels Malleus with how slow they are at realizing their feelings and their skewed sense of time...

Thinking back on the scene from Book 6 where Malleus indirectly implied he missed Yuu, its similar to this scene actually... Where Frieren finally processes that Himmel is gone Gone and finally grieves about her regret in being passive with him... 😭

Also lowkey mentioning Heart of Clear Springs Event from Genshin..... THAT HEAVILY REMINDS ME OF MALLEYUU TOO AUGH...😭😭😭

I love the kindest mortals being the catalyst for an informidable immortal's "cold emotions."

Along with Ace Deuce and Grim,,,, Malleus wouldn't make it once "Yuu goes home" too😂😂💔💔

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jymwahuwu · 8 months

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GIRL I JUST HAD THE MOST DAN HENG SHAMING BRAINROT 😭 Again, inspired by your writing of Dan Feng finding us in another lifetime. Darling's immortal bc you can't meet the reincarnated version of your yandere if you're short-lived.

We all know that Dan Feng's outfit is ✨conservative✨ while Dan Heng's IL outfit gives your grandparents a heart attack. So imagine him gaining memories of you, the darling he kidnapped in his past and also regaining the old obsession. And the first thing you do when you met Dan Heng IL is judge his outfit bc why is he dressed like...that?? Where's the honor and pride of the high elder?? He's trying to kidnap you again, in THAT outfit??

CW: hsr spoilers (dan heng companion mission), yandere, kidnapping, conservative attitude (maybe seems a bit sexist), (implied but not described) non-con

😂Love Dragon boys’ different attitudes towards clothes!! Dan Feng’s conservative attitude towards you and his clothes is something I definitely won’t shut up about 🤭

In order to answer, I studied Dan Feng and Dan Heng's clothes-

Dan Feng's clothes are darker in color, the collars on both sides are higher, and there is a gemstone in the middle of the chest. And there is a picture of a crane on the clothes, which symbolizes nobility, elegance, longevity, luck and other positive meanings, suggesting his background and personality. In the animation trailer, Dan Feng sat quietly, even though he was locked by all the chains (implying the reincarnation fate of High Elder/that sin), he still closed his eyes quietly, without any sorrow, anger, or sadness on his face, like he doesn't care at all. And refer to the few clues now:

1) Dan Feng is described by Jing Yuan as "powerful", "beyond control".

2) When he communicated with Yingxing in the past, he had a strong and calm tone here.

At least it can be deduced that his character is a confident, powerful, charismatic, and even a bit tough dragon. As for Dan Feng who appears in the "Ichor of Two Dragons" animation, that "him" is the version Dan Heng understands. This may be much tougher than himself. As you can imagine, Dan Feng’s current fashion style is relatively conservative💕

As for Dan Heng, we all know what kind of character he is 😚 Let’s talk about clothes. In contrast, the colors of his clothes are brighter, showing that he is breaking away from the cycle of inheritance. Moreover, Dan Heng's clothes are much more revealing- his shoulders are exposed, and then his back and the middle of his chest are also exposed. The theme of his clothes is lotus, not Dan Feng's crane. The lotus is equally beautiful and elegant, but rises from the mud without stains (still looking at the light in the darkness). This is their different style.

In the past life, Dan Feng bound you to his side. No matter what style of clothing you like, the High Elder has ordered you to change into this style- like this Vidyadhara Lady NPC. Traditional Xianzhou style clothes. If you expose a little bit, like these Xianzhou girls (Sushang, Yukong, Tingyun, Qingque etc), exposing shoulders, thighs, calves, Yandere! Dan Feng is not happy with this kind of dress. In his eyes, it is immoral - why most people in Xianzhou dress appropriately, you have to learn from those few people who dress like this.

Not to mention you plan to wear clothes from other planets/space civilizations💀💔What? Are you going to expose some skin on your chest? You don't even have any fabric on your waist! Those clothes disappear from your closet (um, they appear every time you act sad, but Dan Feng said it has nothing to do with him). Don't you notice that people are looking at you? Some people want to flirt with you.

Over the long centuries, the few exceptions were in private. For example, that time you bought a dragon tail and a cute revealing outfit and wore them to please your angry dragon husband. Dan Feng gently stroked your tail and pursed his lips.

After Dan Feng's reincarnation, you escaped from Luofu, took a spaceship, and traveled around various planets. Dan Feng has always forced you to stay with him. Now that you are free, you should be happy, but loss and sorrow haunt your heart.

The dragon who once said that no matter which reincarnation will find you...is it really gone?

Until you meet the boy. Those eyes that are as bright as the ocean, and similar dragon horns and tail.

"Found you."

It's been a long time since you've felt that fear of being captured. In panic, you pushed his chest and noticed his clothes, which turned into another kind of shock. Wait, where's the honor and pride of the High Elder?? Indecent?? The middle of his chest is even exposed.

This might be an odd focus for you about to be kidnapped, but you really haven't seen Dan Feng like this in hundreds of years. Dan Heng puts you on the Astral Express and selects a room for you. He will stick to your side at night, curl up with his tail and sleep with you. You realize the difference between him and Dan Feng, especially in your clothing attitude. He allows you to keep wearing whatever you like, March and Stelle discuss fashion trends with you, have a slumber party, laughing.

Sometimes, you miss Dan Feng and recall what they brought to you. You know they are two people. The changes they bring to you are etched deeply in your heart.

#yandere dan heng x female reader #yandere dan feng x female reader #yandere dan heng x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you

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konigsblog · 1 month

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We need more of that eldirch reader ✨ it's amazingggg

eldricth-reader and scientist-könig. 🐙🐙

cw: NON-CON/DUB-CON tentacles, monster fucking, eldricth hybrid, afab!gn!reader, kidnapping, reader is used as an experiment. MDNI 18+

i have far too many thots™️ for this AU...

i just know that scientist-könig is incredibly satisfied and proud of himself for finding such a rare, immortal creature like you. he's obsessed with the way your tentacles wiggle when he takes a step closer, his hard and thick boots thumping against the concrete ground as he gets a closer look at you. he admires your fearful expression, mortified as you gaze down at the shackles on your ankles, holding you down where you are.

you look so frightened by him - a mortal. you've never seen a human this close before. you'd been told about them, but you imagined them to be fairytale-like and magical creatures. your entire body was trembling, looking over at the wall, knives and sharp objects pinned to the wall, a sharp blade held firmly in his calloused, gloved hands.

he hides his face from you, creeping you out as he remains anonymous, causing chills to run up your spine. könig takes pictures of you from many angles, his intentions were to prove to others at the rare find before killing you off - although, könig had a change of heart; he didn't want you dead, he wanted to see all the things you could do with those tentacles... for his own sick benefit and pleasure.

as he dragged the sharp knife over your panties, he cut and tore them from your figure. you squealed loudly and hissed at him viciously as he tugged on your tentacle suddenly and harshly, pushing it against your slick pussy, inching inside as you cried out through misery. you felt utterly humiliated to be forced to do this, worsening your impression on him.

he watched as your tentacles reached around for anything to hold to stabilise you, his hung cock hanging over your face, hoping you'd grip his lengthy dick. as you're an eldricth creature, you don't understand humans and their bodies - so you were frightened and disgusted to hear his pleasured sounds as your tentacles ran down his weeping shaft, the suckers along your tentacles sticking to his skin as he guides your tentacles, getting off to the abnormal and newfound feeling of them wrapped tightly around his base, and the sight of your slick cunt filled with your limp. ;(

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zapreportsblog · 9 months

Note

Hey babyyyyy,

Can we do some more poly!volturi kings x reader where the reader has a great family bond with the guards? And the kings are so proud like "that's the kind of queen we needed."

This sounds perfect, hope you enjoy it ✨

↳ bonds beyond blood ↲

➘ summary : the three volturi kings are proud that their mate is getting along so well with their top guards

➘ aro x reader x caius x marcus, twilight x reader , volturi x reader

In the heart of Volterra's ancient citadel, where shadows danced and history whispered through the stones, the Volturi reigned supreme. Aro, the charismatic mastermind; Marcus, the contemplative soul; and Caius, the unyielding enforcer, ruled with an iron grip, their names synonymous with power in the supernatural realm.

But the immortal facade these kings presented to the world belied the intricate web of emotions they harbored for one human: (Y/N), a woman whose presence ignited a transformation within their centuries-old hearts.

The tale began on an unassuming evening, when (Y/N)'s fate collided with that of the Volturi. Lost in the labyrinthine streets of Volterra, she wandered into their world, unaware of the enigma that awaited her. Aro's gifted sight caught the glimpse of a mortal, a fragile soul amidst the immortal world. Intrigued, he beckoned her forward, a single interaction setting in motion a destiny no one could foresee.

As (Y/N) stood before the thrones of the three kings, her heart pounding, she couldn't ignore the inexplicable pull she felt. Aro's penetrating gaze, Marcus' contemplative demeanor, and Caius' unyielding aura seemed to draw her in, weaving a connection she struggled to understand.

The kings' curiosity grew as they observed her, each captivated by the essence she brought to their lives. Aro's laughter became more vibrant, Marcus' rare smiles more frequent, and Caius' stern façade softened in her presence. A silent understanding flowed between them, forging a bond that transcended human limitations.

While (Y/N)'s presence changed the kings, it also ignited an unexpected kinship among their loyal guards. Alec and Jane, the gifted twins who once struck fear into the hearts of enemies, found in (Y/N) a maternal figure they had never experienced. Her warmth and wisdom touched the depths of their immortal hearts, transforming their relationship into one of unwavering trust.

Felix, the formidable protector, discovered an unexpected gentleness in (Y/N), a trait that resonated deeply with his own spirit. Demetri, the master tracker, admired her determination, finding a kindred spirit in her unwavering resolve.

But it was Alec and Jane who held the most unique connection with (Y/N). With their childlike appearances frozen in time, they looked to her as a maternal figure they had never known. (Y/N) nurtured them with her wisdom, guided them with her love, and in return, the twins showered her with unwavering loyalty and adoration.

In the shadowed halls of the Volturi castle, an intricate dance of relationships unfolded. Kings and guards, vampire and human, became bound by bonds that defied tradition and expectation. (Y/N) stood at the heart of it all, an unwitting catalyst for change and unity.

As the days turned to nights, and (Y/N)'s presence continued to weave its magic, none could anticipate the challenges that lay ahead. Threats both old and new would test the strength of their bonds, and the very fabric of their existence would be shaken.

But in that moment, as the castle's stone walls whispered secrets of centuries past, the Volturi kings and their beloved human mate reveled in the newfound harmony they had forged. They were yet to understand that this harmony would become their greatest strength in the trials that awaited them.

In the heart of the grand Volturi castle, (Y/N)'s presence continued to illuminate the lives of both kings and guards. The bond she shared with Aro, Marcus, and Caius flourished, growing stronger with each passing day. It was a connection that transcended time, defying the very laws that governed their supernatural existence.

As (Y/N) navigated the intricacies of the immortal world, she found herself drawn into the lives of the twins, Alec and Jane. Their once-uncertain existence had transformed into one filled with warmth and acceptance, all thanks to the woman who looked upon them with the eyes of a guardian. She provided guidance, friendship, and a motherly love they had never experienced.

Alec and Jane, once feared for their devastating abilities, now wielded their powers with control and restraint, a testament to (Y/N)'s patient guidance. They had found in her the stability they needed, a figure of trust they could confide in and look up to.

Felix and Demetri, too, had been touched by (Y/N)'s presence. Felix's exterior, once unyielding, softened in the glow of her compassion. He had found solace in her calming influence, a touchstone of gentleness amid the tumultuous world he inhabited. Demetri, with his unerring tracking skills, marveled at (Y/N)'s strength and resilience. He respected her as an equal, an ally, and a friend.

As days turned to nights and the castle's halls echoed with secrets, (Y/N) embraced her role within the Volturi's inner circle. The kings, once distant figures of power, now confided in her their thoughts and hopes, their fears and aspirations. Their bond with her had opened a door to vulnerability, allowing them to share a side of themselves that had long remained hidden.

However, the tranquility that (Y/N) had brought to the Volturi world would soon be disrupted by shadows that lurked on the horizon. Rumors of a rising force, one that sought to challenge the very foundations of their rule, began to circulate. It was a threat that no one could ignore, and the unity forged among kings, guards, and their human mate would be put to the test.

As tension mounted, the intricate relationships woven within the castle walls would be shaken to their core. Loyalties would be questioned, and the limits of love and friendship would be pushed to their breaking point. The kings and their newfound family, bound by love rather than blood, would have to stand together to face the storm that approached.

And so, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast long shadows across the ancient city, the Volturi prepared to confront a challenge that would either strengthen their bonds beyond measure or shatter the delicate harmony they had built. (Y/N)'s presence, once an unexpected thread in the fabric of their lives, would prove to be the source of strength that held them together in the face of adversity.

Within the towering walls of the Volturi castle, a sense of anticipation hung in the air. As (Y/N) moved through the grand halls, her steps were now accompanied by an underlying tension. The threat that loomed on the horizon was palpable, casting a shadow over the unity she had helped foster.

The kings, Aro, Marcus, and Caius, convened in their private chamber, their expressions etched with a rare mixture of concern and determination. (Y/N) was there, a steadfast presence amidst their deliberations, a living testament to the bonds they had forged.

Aro's eyes gleamed with his usual curiosity, though there was an edge of worry that betrayed his usual confidence. Marcus, ever the observer, seemed to contemplate the future with a weight that surpassed his years. Caius, the embodiment of authority, clenched his jaw, his resolve unwavering in the face of impending conflict.

Beside them, Alec and Jane stood, their faces a mirror of their guardians'. The twins who had found a maternal figure in (Y/N) were now mature beyond their years, their commitment to the family they had formed unwavering. Felix and Demetri flanked the group, their expressions a mixture of vigilance and readiness, ever prepared to defend those they held dear.

As the kings deliberated, (Y/N)'s gaze shifted to the window, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. She had become a part of this intricate tapestry, her life interwoven with those of kings and guards alike. The unity they had cultivated was a source of strength, but it was about to be tested in ways they couldn't predict.

News had reached the Volturi of a faction that sought to challenge their dominion, a group that believed their way of life was threatened by the kings' rule. The realization that their world could be on the brink of upheaval sent ripples of tension through the castle's inhabitants.

With a sense of resolve, Aro turned his gaze toward (Y/N), his voice steady yet tinged with urgency. "My dear (Y/N)," he began, "we are faced with a challenge that demands our unity. The bonds we have formed must not falter in the face of adversity."

Marcus, his usually somber eyes showing a glimmer of determination, continued, "We have faced countless challenges throughout history. Our strength lies in our ability to stand together."

Caius, the embodiment of authority, spoke with a conviction that sent shivers down the spines of all present. "We must protect what we've built, even if it means confronting those who seek to undermine us."

And so, a plan began to take shape, a strategy that relied on the unique strengths of each individual. (Y/N)'s role in this impending conflict was not to be underestimated; her presence had already proven to be a beacon of strength, a source of inspiration for those who fought beside her.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and cast long shadows across the castle walls, a sense of anticipation settled over the Volturi stronghold. Bonds forged through love and shared purpose would soon be put to the test, as the unity of kings, guards, and their human mate stood against the gathering storm.

And as the first drops of rain began to fall, (Y/N) braced herself for the challenges ahead, ready to stand by the side of those she held dear and face whatever trials fate had in store.

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malleleothreesome · 4 months

Text

Dancing with Malleus

✨ summary: Malleus invites you to the Briar Valley ball ༶༶༶ ✨ warnings: gender neutral reader, immortal Malleus, romance, SFW, I ain't gonna spoil this one for ya ༶༶༶ ✨ word count: 2.9k words ༶༶༶ ✨ song: Once Upon A Dream - Lana Del Rey "You'll love me at once... the way you did once upon a dream"

The castle's ballroom is exquisite and grand, with high arched windows that open out into a massive and impressive courtyard. Inundated with golden light, the whole room is sparking in ethereal shimmer and the aroma of crisp floral accents fill the room. From the high vaulted ceilings, chandeliers the size of trees glitter with a plethora of colorful gems, catching the light of magical, flickering flames like stardust. Couples twirl and weave around each other in fluid steps, like a choreographed waltz of swaying and swirling movements. An orchestra of beautiful instruments blend together in a soaring melody as the dancing continues in harmonious orchestration. A faint mist seems to cover the floor, glittering opalescent in the fading daylight, which gives the scene the surreal quality of a dream or fairytale. The ball is attended only by the most exotic mystical creatures and beings of magic, clad in jewels and other luxury wares. Fae of varying shapes, colors, and sizes, waltz together and converse in tight circles, but you couldn't possibly hope to learn their language or names, nor are you important enough to be greeted. You don't belong here amongst the unparalleled beauty of the resplendent folk who grace these halls—celestially carved beings whose mere existence was meant to mesmerize you and your fellow humans, yet Malleus had insisted that you become his plus-one. Despite your fears that you might embarrass yourself due to your utter inexperience at anything remotely resembling courtly dancing, you're inexplicably enamored by his stubborn determination to allow no argument or negotiation on the matter. So now, you find yourself clad in flowing silk that glows like it was created by stars themselves and bejeweled with all manners of beautiful and precious accouterments. With such extravagant adornments and attire, no one would be able to tell you are not of royal blood. Before you become completely subsumed in the buzzing magnificence of the ball, the finest details of your elegant surroundings become blurry.

Suddenly, there is only him.

Your eyes cannot help but alight upon his noble beauty, and for a moment, the entire crowd parts. The Prince of the Valley of Thorns floats through the room, the air around him parting. As his silky hair streams behind him like water, his beauty causes the room to gasp audibly, yet he hardly notices. Only focused on his true intentions, Malleus seems to drift effortlessly through his own subjects, his sharp features devoid of their normal grim severity, eyes sparkling with tender warmth as he fixates solely on you. Every step he takes exudes power and confidence, yet remains graceful and smooth, as he saunters his way to where you stand and outstretches his gloved hand. In an instant, a murmur arises among the guests—every single one of them captivated by the effortless charm and debonair allure the future King possesses. Seeing your bashfulness, he delicately pulls your smaller hand into his before brushing your knuckles with a sweet kiss, a broad, fangy smile illuminating his entire visage.

"Do not be nervous," he soothes you. His slender fingertips gingerly grip yours, raising your entangled palms to rest shoulder-height, and placing his other hand on your lower back, right at the junction of your waist—so carefully, it makes your heart beat a little faster. Despite his inhuman strength, Malleus holds onto you gently, not wanting to bruise you from his crushing grasp. And then, the room around you suddenly fades away—the hundreds of pairs of eyes on you fade to black, the delicate melodies fade to white, the sheer magnitude of magic and splendor falls away and you see only the verdant of his irises, glittering emeralds as bright and eternal as the crystals sparkling around you. The corners of his eyes crinkle just a bit, betraying an emotion he's rarely so candid with outside the sanctum of your relationship. His next words, a dreamy whisper of reassurance, cause butterflies to flutter through your stomach and the hot flush of your cheeks to flood over you.

"Just let me lead and I will bring you to paradise."

Those are his only words as the slow waltz of the orchestra starts, beginning the dance that will set you two into a careful and synchronous flow with each other. Your feet move effortlessly with him, never straying even as he picks up the pace, the momentum between the two of you increasing. You feel him cradle the curve of your body close to him, holding you in the nook of his arm as he deftly twirls you through the night's revels. Malleus expertly keeps pace with the orchestra, all while also maintaining the beat of his heart, which matches the rhythm of his footsteps. As he glides with a masterful ease around the room, every movement controlled and precise, the image you two paint in motion together is nothing short of flawless. There isn't a hitch or misstep in your movement, the two of you completely in sync with the beat, every turn and twist of the music matching each step of your waltz, as he leads you in complete command. His eyes never leave yours, only looking away to catch the flash of one of his deft maneuvers of your body. Time slows and you find yourself completely lost in the wonder as you gaze lovingly into the brilliant, viridescent pools of his irises—his gaze penetrates and drowns you in a wash of endearment, drinking in your visage with unrestrained emotion. It's intoxicating and dizzying, yet you're powerless to break away. As far as you're concerned, the other couples have completely disappeared, lost to the blur of the distance, and it is as though you're dancing to music that exists in a realm outside of the material world. Everything else pales in comparison to this ethereal fairytale—Malleus looks handsome beyond reason in his opulent uniform. The cut of the dark fabric seems to enhance the elegant definition of his strong shoulders and the perfect symmetry of his regal face, yet the lush tailoring highlights his muscular physique and the toned strength that hides under the gorgeous facade. His very essence, the ambiance he exudes, the captivating aura—it all acts as an enchantment of pure spellbound desire, beckoning for you to cast yourself into its endless depth, surrendering yourself entirely to him.

Every step, every sway, every twirl of your dance together is more surreal than the last. This fairy tale is unfolding right before your eyes and all you can do is feel your soul resonate with him. It's in the way your arms circle his body; it's in the way your breathing begins to match pace with his; it's in the way he sets your head spinning and fills your heart with an aching need to be closer. In a secluded corner of the dance floor, away from all the curious eyes, the waltz continues—a beautiful duet of your hearts connecting deeper with every step and spin, as if the magic is attempting to wrench your souls together, desperate to mingle them until they're indistinguishable. He cradles you in his embrace, holding your body against his. From the elegant swoop of his scale-covered forehead, to the sharp, sexy slope of his jawline, his handsome profile is aglow with radiant adoration as he stares down at you with half-lidded, smitten eyes, his cheekbones shadowed perfectly under the romantic light of the ballroom, giving him an ineffable mystique. You stare back at him, searching deep into the blackness of his slitted pupils until your heart aches as your mind rushes with so many unspeakable emotions that threaten to make tears well in the corner of your eyes. In that moment, your love for him burns brighter than the sun and is more potent than anything you have ever known. At last, he closes his eyes in contentment and sweeps you away, a dreamlike smile upon his lips as he spins you across the smooth ballroom floors, grasping onto you as though you are his only lifeline in the universe. Malleus moves as though in a dream, never faltering as he leads your soul into a euphoria you never thought possible, a state where words hold little meaning but the act of dancing could express everything. As he moves the two of you elegantly across the expansive floor, the ephemerality of your mortal existence burns starkly clear in your mind, while his ancient heart thrums within his chest—countless years of melancholy and loneliness he endured seem to give weight to every ponderous beat of his heart, resonating through his chest, enveloping you and shrouding you in the desperate urgency of his adoration for you. Even without uttering any confessions, his heart speaks them to you fluently—you and him are tied so intimately together, an unbreakable knot that holds the threads of your destinies and fate together in a weave too precious and fine to be cut or broken. His fingertips ghost along your neck, the gentle sensation setting your soul on fire, sending electric currents down to the very tips of your fingers and toes, as a powerful shudder rips through your body.

"Wherever I am, you belong by my side," Malleus tells you. His tone is soft, but filled with enough reverence to make your breath catch. He peers at you with uncharacteristic vulnerability, the mere existence of it is practically intoxicating, and he watches your reactions to him with wide and captivating eyes that give off the intensity of a solar eclipse.

"It was fated by the heavens. Our paths were always intertwined," his voice is just a tad unsteady, yet it resonates with his entire being.

For a moment, all the whispers that echo from the watching crowd silence—the buzz, the snippets of gossip about your relationship with the notorious prince—is as quiet and as inconsequential as a background tune to your dance. All those things were meaningless—their cruel whispers and jealous words, their apprehension and disapproval meant absolutely nothing. That momentary stillness grants you both a moment of solace; the very few seconds your lives needed for him to offer himself to you. A confession so pure it lifts the hair on the back of your neck: "I fell in love the moment I laid eyes on you. No one could possibly make my heart beat so wildly or ignite such fierce emotions as you do."

His words are just like the tempo of the violins that fill the chamber. Infinite. Mesmerizing. Their echoing sound lengthens into infinity, in their beautiful patterns, the bow caresses the strings and produces such an achingly sublime melody. They pierce through all the tension in the air and carry a stirring urgency along with them as they flow seamlessly with your bodies in sync. Every note perfectly transitions into the next, and the song swells to a climatic, fervid harmony that cannot be resisted. You want him with all the burning hunger and depth of a cosmic soul—for every molecule that composes you calls out to him and wants to interweave his being with your own, so that neither one can ever exist without the other. His form is graceful as you two blend into each other and the song in a divine synergy. Time stretches as the rapturous intensity of his longing is displayed on his face. As you look into his eyes, the entire expanse of his vast, magnificent soul is bared to you. No mortal has ever had the privilege to see him so honestly and fully exposed, yet Malleus gives you his everything—he's always been his whole self in your embrace. He holds you close, cradling your frame to him protectively, and the faint tremble of his grip reveals the depths of his emotional fragility as the passion of his love overwhelms him and renders him helplessly bare before you, like a servant devoted to the altar of an awe-inspiring, glorious God.

Suddenly, all those intense sensations coalesce into the single most beautiful sentiment of all, as the sum of these wonderful emotions create a glorious aria that rouses all the seraphic adoration and longing, and an emotional overdrive within him. With the sum of his desires and emotions pouring out of him in waves, Malleus opens his lips to pour forth his most secret and profound wish and what comes out next, the words barely a hushed murmur above the swelling musical climax, is an admission of raw love. "I wish to spend my eternal lifetime with you by my side. I long to spend it loving only you and I want us to grow together through the centuries as partners." His words, sincere, sentimental, and laced with the faintest traces of tears, are raw in their unapologetic declaration, and they contain within them a depth of devotion you didn't think possible for a soul to ever harbor.

His lip quivers, his eyes begin to shine, and he squeezes them shut just as the first tears begin to flow, spilling over the waterline of his closed eyelids and dripping down his high cheekbones. Tapered fingers firmly intertwine yours and he desperately gazes at Lilia, whose red eyes sparkle in a proud mist as he looks on, giving Malleus an encouraging nod. Finally, the dam is broken—the smile that cracks at the corners of Malleus' mouth blooms, causing his already dazzling complexion to gleam and become impossibly more breathtaking as a sweet, ecstatic sob bubbles out of his lungs. Tears of joy roll down his cheeks as a wide grin takes up half his face, the verdant color of his irises shimmering brilliantly through a crystalline veil of sparkling tears. Thanks to the confidence and encouragement Lilia—his Father—has instilled in him, he finally feels ready to face his destiny, and take you alongside him as an equal. He clears his throat.

"I understand you are a human of little power, a short-lived creature whose days will fleet and wane like that of a candle before a blizzard," his voice is somewhat hesitant, faltering a tad as his anxieties manifest, his vocal chords shivering as he stumbles over his own emotion. His free hand finds its way to clutch the front of his attire, as though the mere mention of you near death makes his heart seize in his chest. His lips form a pout, brow creasing deeply as his breath shakes while you clutch his cheek, a thumb smoothing over his cheekbone, collecting his tears. Then, Malleus steels his features as he delivers his ultimatum. When his beautiful, soulful gaze finds you, there's an immovable determination and steadfastness that betray the fact that he's already made the choice, and your presence at his side is inevitable. "Therefore, in order to make our union possible and feasible, I spent countless hours researching every ancient text and scroll to seek a loophole, to bend the fates and twist their strings around my fingers." His lips curl to the side and his eyebrows raise ever so subtly, an adorable hint of pride shining in the smile he wears. "At last, my labor produced a solution. It is possible through an ancient rite to bind my soul to a chosen mortal partner."

Your heart speeds as a burst of joy courses through your veins like fire. The crescendo of the orchestra and his musical words are building to a harmonious convergence, a swelling refrain of the melodies both your lives have played, culminating in a resplendent final verse, a foreordained tune of two halves at last being joined. It's almost too much for you to take; the very walls of this beautiful, mystical room threaten to melt away and fade from your awareness, and all you can comprehend is his stunning, baritone voice. "If you accept my blessing, your lifespan will be linked to mine for as long as I walk the realm of the living.” Malleus tells you, a tad smug at the work he has done on your behalf. “All I ask in return for giving you eternal beauty, granting you my protection, and offering you my whole life is that we come to be as one. Two souls permanently linked and intertwined for the eternity of our existence together. You will forever share my immortality and accompany me as we walk among the stars until they eventually go out. And even in the wake of that devastating eventuality, I promise to care for you, tend to you, and love you for however many eras remain. Please be my betrothed, my beloved child of man, for I cannot bear to let you go and there is no force that can tear me away from you."

He squeezes your hand before dropping to one knee. In the center of the expansive room, surrounded by hundreds of guests, his emerald orbs peer up at you through heavy lashes as his lips begin to part, finally ready to ask the one question that may finally put an end to the solitude he has endured since he first came into existence. He pulls a ring box from the interior of his tailcoat, his shaky hands slowly flipping open the box to reveal a platinum band in the shape of a dragon encasing a deep viridian gem, forged from the magical energies of his Draconia ancestors. The ring was last worn by his Mother before her untimely demise, and his Grandmother was insistent that Malleus should one day gift his betrothed this one piece of family history. As the ballroom goes completely silent and the eyes of his subjects rest on the two of you with rapt, nervous attention, Malleus draws in a wavering inhale to steady his quivering voice as he fights the fear of rejection, before allowing the soft and tender question to slip past the careful line of his lips, "Will you marry me?"

Do y'all want part 2? Am I cruel for leaving it off there? In "x Reader" fics, I like to limit putting words in the reader's mouth or feelings in reader's head so that I can let you decide for yourselves how you wish to experience my stories. I am happy to pick back up where I left off if there is demand for it. Otherwise, I hope you continue weaving this tale in your own daydreams and fantasies. Thank you for reading and for your support of my writing! 💚 Erica Malleleothreesome P.S. I'm SORRY my paragraphs are so long I truly DO NOT UNDERSTAND when to break paragraphs, I hope it doesn't ruin your experience!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst malleus draconia #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x reader #malleyuu #twst imagines #my writing

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princess-sof-time · 10 months

Note

Moonie-chan is here to bring you another wild and silly request 😉✨

Could you write for Meliodas, King, Ban (Nanatsu no Taizai) and Naruto, Hinata and Rock Lee(Naruto) (if you want to add someone else its okay, i will love to read more of it!) with a S/O that has a lot of scars in their body for a past almost deadly experience but is something that doesn't bother them more, like reader had already made peace with their past so they do jokes about it casually or has the silliest and unreal excuses to explain their scars when someone askslike joking

I love your requests Moonie-chan!

🄼🄴🄻🄸🄾🄳🄰🅂

• Meliodas, the captain of the Seven Deadly Sins, looked at his S/O with a mix of admiration and curiosity. Their body bore the marks of a past that had tested their strength and resilience. Scars, like battle-worn trophies, adorned their skin, serving as a testament to their survival. However, what truly captivated Meliodas was their lighthearted approach to these marks, turning what could be seen as reminders of pain into a source of humor.

• One evening, as they sat together, Meliodas couldn't help but ask about a particularly prominent scar. With a mischievous twinkle in their eye, his S/O launched into an outlandish tale involving a daring escapade with mythical creatures. Their words flowed effortlessly, painting a vivid picture of a fantastical encounter that had left them marked but unscathed. Meliodas chuckled, recognizing the playfulness behind their words, and joined in the whimsical storytelling, adding his own embellishments to the tale.

🄺🄸🄽🄶

• King, the Grizzly's Sin of Sloth, observed his S/O with a tender gaze. Their scars, scattered across their body like delicate brushstrokes, fascinated him. He was well aware of the immense strength and resilience it took to bear such marks. Yet, what truly enamored King was their ability to embrace their scars with lightheartedness and humor.

• One afternoon, King found himself drawn to a particularly intricate scar on his S/O's arm. With a gentle smile, he asked about its origin. Much to his surprise, they responded with a whimsical tale involving a mischievous fairy and a grand adventure through enchanted forests. Their eyes sparkled with mirth as they spun a tale that left King both in awe and in stitches. Their ability to weave humor into their past wounds left him with a profound admiration for their resilience and strength.

🄱🄰🄽

• Ban, the immortal bandit, watched his S/O intently, his gaze tracing the contours of their scars. His own body bore the marks of countless battles, but the scars etched upon his S/O's skin held a different significance. These were the remnants of a past filled with near-death experiences—a testament to their indomitable spirit and unyielding will to survive.

• Curiosity piqued, Ban playfully inquired about the story behind a particularly long scar. Without missing a beat, his S/O launched into an elaborate tale involving daring heists, ancient curses, and legendary treasures. Ban's laughter filled the air as he recognized the familiar twinkle of mischief in their eyes. Their ability to make light of their scars and transform them into tales of adventure only deepened his admiration for the person they had become.

🄴🄻🄸🅉🄰🄱🄴🅃🄷 🄻🄸🄾🄽🄴🅂

• Elizabeth Liones, a gentle and compassionate soul, found herself inexplicably drawn to a unique individual. Her significant other possessed a body adorned with scars, reminders of a past brush with mortality. While these marks would evoke concern in most, the reader had embraced their scars with a lighthearted spirit, using humor as their shield.

• Their casual and playful nature, mixed with a touch of mischief, led the reader to respond to inquiries about their scars with the most absurd and outlandish explanations. When someone curiously asked about the origins of a particularly prominent mark, the reader would flash a mischievous grin and spin a tale about wrestling ferocious dragons in faraway lands or engaging in daring adventures that defied the laws of nature.

• Elizabeth found herself enamored by their S/O's remarkable ability to transform their past struggles into a source of amusement. She admired the reader's strength, both in enduring their ordeal and in finding the courage to embrace their scars with joy and resilience. Their vibrant spirit complemented her own compassionate nature, forging a bond that transcended the physical realm.

🄽🄰🅁🅄🅃🄾 🅄🅉🅄🄼🄰🄺🄸

• Naruto, the spirited shinobi, regarded his S/O with awe as he observed their scars. Each mark told a story of battles fought and hardships overcome. It was a testament to their unwavering strength and resilience in the face of adversity. But what truly amazed Naruto was their ability to bring levity and humor to the scars that once held painful memories.

• One day, as they strolled hand in hand, Naruto's curiosity got the better of him, and he playfully prodded his S/O about a particularly unique scar. With a mischievous grin, they launched into an outrageous explanation involving ninja cats, exploding watermelons, and a mishap with a particularly aggressive squirrel. Naruto laughed, the sound echoing through the streets as he recognized the playful nature behind their words. In that moment, he couldn't have been prouder of the strength and joy they brought into their lives, scars and all.

🄷🄸🄽🄰🅃🄰 🄷🅈🅄🄶🄰

• Hinata Hyuga, with her gentle demeanor and unwavering determination, found herself captivated by the spirit of her S/O. Their body adorned with scars, remnants of a harrowing past, only served to further ignite Hinata's admiration for their strength. Although the scars were a reminder of the battles fought, her S/O had made peace with their past, embracing life with a lightheartedness that was contagious.

• In the quiet moments shared between them, Hinata witnessed her S/O's resilience manifest in the most unexpected ways. Their scars became a canvas for their witty and outlandish storytelling, weaving tales so fantastical that laughter spilled from Hinata's lips effortlessly. From encounters with legendary beasts to duels with mythical warriors, their imaginative explanations left both of them dissolved in laughter.

🅁🄾🄲🄺 🄻🄴🄴

• Rock Lee, with his unwavering determination and unyielding spirit, admired his S/O's scars as symbols of their resilience. Their past had shaped them into a warrior, not defined by their wounds but empowered by them. As their relationship flourished, Lee discovered that his S/O possessed a unique ability to find humor even in the face of adversity.

• With a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, his S/O would concoct the most outrageous and exaggerated tales to explain their scars. From daring escapades atop towering mountains to epic battles against otherworldly creatures, their storytelling brought a lightheartedness that resonated with Lee's own zest for life. Together, they reveled in the joy of laughter, turning the scars of the past into badges of courage and absurd tales.

#nanatsu no taizai x reader #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto x reader #rock lee x reader #hinata x reader #naruto uzumaki x reader #elizabeth liones x reader #ban seven deadly sins #ban x reader #king seven deadly sins x reader #sds meliodas #meliodas x reader

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powells · 5 months

Text

Romantasy Display!! ✨💕

((No poetry, middle grade books, or graphic novels were displaced to make room for this display))

Uprooted by Naomi Novik "familiar as a Grimm fairy tale yet fresh, original, and totally irresistible"

Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall "Witches and gods, scandals and curses all combine in this spellbinding historical Sapphic romance"

Zodiac Academy by Caroline Peckham and Susanne Valenti "Follow our twin princesses as they fight to reclaim their throne." *very spicy* *please note this series has dark content*

Bitter Medicine by Mia Tsai "The magic system had me mesmerized in how it blends cultures. Inspired by Chinese drama, the romance & action were addictive"

Emily Wilde's Encyclopedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett "Besides a grumpy, young professor, this book has fairies, and adventure, romance, mystery... and did I say fairies?"

Immortal Longings by Chloe Gong "Gripping, bewildering, irresistible..."

The Jasad Heir by Sara Hashem "Try if you like: Egyptian folklore, political scheming, deadly secrets, revenge, and forbidden romance" Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas "An epic tale of love and loss and a girl who loves her kingdom very very much"

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teecupangel · 5 months

Note

i know you have so much on your plate rn but i can't stop thinking about Ezio-era Baker!Desmond and the shenanigan layers of ✨intrigue✨ going on with Ezio and Leo thinking he’s Giovani's bastard, and Maria inviting him to the villa on a whim ’cause she thinks her kids (and Leo) like the pastries, and Desmond misinterpreting absolutely everything because that boy is a Wreck™

what comes of it, tho?? is Desmond trying to alter history more than just pre-inventing exotic baked goods? is he already having to dodge assassins around Italy while trying to protect the Auditore family, getting on Giovani's radar and spooking him ’cause he can't figure out what branch he's from? or is Desmond holed up in his bakery trying very hard NOT to change anything ’cause hey he’d already saved the world he’d like to not fuck things up bad enough to have to do it again?

does Giovani catch a glimpse of him at some point (either just in the bakery or while Desmond’s out being assassin-y), and instead of thinking he looks like himself or Ezio (since this would be before Ezio gets the scar), thinks he looks eerily like the statue of Altaïr? as another layer of shenanigan, he could come to Leonardo with the idea of time travel but thinks that Desmond is from the PAST rather than the FUTURE, and Leo spends the whole convo trying not to blurt that he thinks/knows Desmond is GIOVANI'S kid

just. the confusion of this au speaks to me, since it’s ALMOST crack-y but also these fools are canonically FOOLS, and i love the way you blend angst with shenanigans. im also shippy at heart, so would love to see your take on that in this au if you have the time 👀

(thank you for reading, i hope you're doing well! 🧡)

As long as you guys are find that your asks are getting answered a month later, I’m alright with adding more to my plate XD (just to be clear, this is a first-in-first-out basis for both asks and replies/reblogs and I’m only about to clear Oct 13 XD)

The original Desmond becomes a baker in Renaissance Italy and gets mistaken as Giovanni’s illegitimate child idea for those curious.

In this one, Desmond only went as far as stop the Auditores from being arrested by dropping key documents showing Uberto’s treachery to the Medici. He stayed as far away as he could from the Auditores and only dropped off the evidence in Lorenzo’s bedside table one day, slipping into the darkness. Anyone who saw him actually thought he was a monk since he was wearing a monk’s attire (which he burned afterwards). This does lead to Giovanni and the thieves guild looking for him after since he hasn’t done any other Assassin related stuff and was simply living his life as a baker, they’re hitting a dead end. Desmond doesn’t plan to do anything else since he believes that the Auditores would be able to handle it from here and he’s betting on Giovanni finally starting Ezio’s training after learning that the Templars are after his family.

Giovanni’s first glimpse of him is when he checked the bakery from afar since his family seemed to like it so much. He just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t post any danger to his family and maybe even talk to La Volpe into adding it to the thieves’ patrol route just so they would have eyes on the bakery at all time. It’s gotten so popular that the Medici are even thinking of ordering from them so Giovanni figured he should do reconnaissance before it got to that point. When he saw Desmond, he doesn’t see the similarities between them, he saw Desmond looking a lot like the statue of Altaïr and he freaks out. Because, unlike Ezio or Leonardo, he does have an inkling of how powerful Those Who Come Before were. He has seen the Shroud and he has heard the tales of how Altaïr had mastered one of their weapons. And… if the Shroud could heal all and any injuries then… In this case, Giovanni doesn’t think Desmond is a time traveler, he thinks Desmond is Altaïr himself who has gained immortality thanks to the ‘powers’ of Those Who Come Before.

Thank you! I honestly like writing these ideas where it’s crack but not crack enough that it’s a bit confusing XD

#desmond bakes #giovanni has a mental breakdown #leonardo still thinks desmond is giovanni’s love child #la volpe is just waiting for giovanni’s instructions #assassin's creed #desmond miles #giovanni auditore #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

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pursuitseternal · 3 months

Note

Hi first of all, I wanted to tell you how much I love your fanfictions I'm always happy to see something new (ascended astarion and astarion spawn stories are my favourites but the others are captivating too). I was wondering if you could write a story where the original Tav dies and is reborn a few hundred years later and Astarion finds her again. Maybe in a more modern setting where the prudery thing isn't quite so… strong

I apologise for my bad English it's not my native language I hope you can understand it anyway

“Mistrial:” a Modern Faerûn AU

Astarion x Tav |E| 2.5K modern au

Ao3 link

Summary: Hundreds of years without her, Astarion still sits on the bench, Justice Ancunìn hear case after case. Until one day, that young prosecutor gets under his skin, until she confronts him after their trial, until ancient memories stir and things awaken.

A/N: Thank you to @myfavouritelunatic and @brabblesblog for their enabling and encouragement.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Justice Ancunìn, I have to object,” the little firecracker of a prosecutor ground her high heel into the tile of the courtroom.

Astarion shook his head, tired of her tone already on day one. “You don’t have to, counselor,” he rubbed two fingers against his silver-haired temple, “but given that this is already your twenty-second one today, I can’t say I’m surprised.” She looked at him with sharp eyes and folded arms. The little shit. He did not care for her already.

If this had been in the good old days when Faerûn was at its prime and most debauched, he could have her flogged for her tone and sent to cool in the stocks. And that would have been before he had been turned into vampiric spawn, before he had become hero of Baldur’s Gate with the love of his life at his side. Helping him learn how to hide his immortality and vampirism from the public, learning how to still serve as Magistrate despite his… condition.

That was until time moved on, and his immortality won over the lingering bonds of love. He missed Tav, her brilliance and ferocity, her pointed ears and sweet blood, her passion in life and in the bed.

Like the blink of an eye, he moved on. City to city, career to career as hundreds of years continued their slow grind of time. Until now, now, he stared down from his bench in BGC, new finagled magic in this modern age like cars and electricity and internet. But law was law, and a judge was a judge

It was as if he never left, aside from the new spitfire attorney, just arrived from New Waterdeep, with a ferocity he would have once admired.

He just now found it tiresome. Irritating. He realized after a moment, she had the decency to wait on his final word on her request for objection. He shifted in his seat, narrowing his eyes at her. “Overruled, Counselor Ylfe.” He banged his gavel twice. “In fact, court adjourned until tomorrow,” he stood grumbling to himself. “At least I’ll be spared a twenty-third objection in so many hours…”

His pointed ears picked up on a high pitched scoff. “We shall see,” that lawyer snipped to herself. But that tone, that defiance and jabbing quality… something piqued his interest.

Stirred his ancient memory.

He finally groaned as he rested in his chambers, only moments after shutting the doors and sliding off those scratchy robes. Gods, he missed silks and wigs and velvets. Not this cheap crap everyone wore. He went to his cabinet, taking out a discrete green bottle and pouring himself a mug of its swirling ruby contents. He popped it in his microwave, one improvement on the campfire he would not begrudge using.

Not when it made his stash of blood warm for once.

But even as it hummed, his mind kept rolling over his day. Especially that stubborn, annoying, irritating prosecutor with her defiant eyes and jutting out chin and crossed arms and swaying, perfect hips, and……

“Justice Ancunìn, I figured you would finally have a moment for us to address how to best proceed civilly in your own chambers,” his head shot up, his gaze narrowed as he watched her stride on into his offices.

Her.

“What in the hells are you thinking, Counselor Ylfe?” he spat, fighting hard from baring his fangs at her. A habit eroded from nearly a millennia of practice almost overturned just at the sight of her. “You know any discourse outside of the courtroom can result in a mistrial?”

“This isn’t about the trial, this is about your abject disdain for me, personally, it would seem.” She did it again, crossing her arms and swaying her hips in that tight little black pantsuit of her hers.

Astarion let his eye wander. There was something about her… not many females cut so fine a figure in trousers, or slacks or whatever the fuck they were now.

Not since… her. The other her in his life. His true love. That was the last time he even gave a woman a second glance.

Her hair hung over her shoulder, but now, up close, he could see two pointed ears peeking through her crown of long and flowing hair. Elf. High elf.

He locked eyes with her, that piercing shade… his mind raced and wandered… flying through ancient history for some, the warmest of memories for him. Emerald Grove, Shadow Cursed Lands, the real Baldur’s Gate…

“Didn’t you hear me, Your Honor?” she snapped at him.

Astarion shook his mess of silver locks, smiling in a way that no longer hid his fangs. “I’m afraid I was… lost in the sea of my long and winding memories… darling….”

That made her freeze solid. Her smooth face drew into an inscrutable expression, her cherry red lips parted… “What did you call me…?”

Only then did he realize the slip of his own tongue, how that pet name he vowed never to use flowed right off of it. “D-darling.” He repeated, as shocked as she was at the impropriety. “I’m sorry, Ms. Ylfe.”

“Don’t be,” she instantly replied with a shake of her head. Then she smiled, even as her brows furrowed. She looked at him, at his pale face and silver hair and… dark brown eyes…. “Have you always worn contacts, Mr. Ancunìn?”

“How…” but before he could interrogate that true suspicion, his microwave dinged.

“You better get your drink, Your Honor…” That lilt in her voice was new, he noted.

“I’ll wait,” he shrugged. “I can always reheat it later. First I’ll have to apologize for my… behavior today.”

“I should hope so,” she grinned, walking around and sitting on the edge of his desk. “Treating a lady with such disdain… only to about face and call her darling the next moment… seems something only a true, black-hearted rogue would do…”

“What?” he went rigid. Bending forward, that old instinct to fight or fly racing through his nerves after centuries.

“I’ve never been a fan of contacts,” she smiled so easily as she leaned back against the top of his desk, fingers splayed on his files and papers. “Better if you just showed the world your natural eyes, Mr. Ancunìn….”

His nostrils flared, his breath racing and head swimming. But this time there was no fucking tadpole, he knew that.

“What’s your name…” he hissed, narrowed eyes leveling at her.

“I can tell you, unless you’re bent on letting your stash of blood from getting cold…. Astarion.”

His hand flew to her neck, bringing her up into his face, fangs bared, hackles raised, every long suppressed vampiric sense firing on all cylinders now as he smelled her. “Name,” he commanded.

“Taveria Ylfe,” she swallowed under his hold. “But those close to me have always called me Tav….”

“Tav,” her name was a gasp in his throat.

“And I know you,” she said, breathy and quick. “I didn’t know how… but there was something about you that made me… unsettled.”

“Twenty-two objections later and you call yourself… unsettled?” he smirked, lightening his hold, but stroking his fingers on her skin.

Her skin.

“Well, darling,” she purred, "lifetimes of perfect memory for our kind, and I should have recognized my lover with the crimson eyes and pointed fangs.”

Astarion shook his head, swallowing the rising ball of emotion that caught in his throat. “I’d cry, but it’ll make my contacts hurt,” he gave a wet laugh. His thumb traced on the side of her neck, two circle marks in her flesh, like moles or scars…

“You found them, the brands I’ve have on my flesh ever since you, Astarion,” she added, eyes batting shut under his touch. “I’ve looked for you in every lifetime, my true love with roguish swagger, red eyes, pointed fangs, and massive…”

She paused, pursing her lips.

“Ego?” he offered as an answer, but she shook her head.

“Cock,” she grinned as she bit her lip.

“I was hoping you’d say that… darling…” He hissed as her hand grasped at the gusset between his legs. “Looking for your evidence?” he growled, a roll of his hips into the pressure of her touch. So ancient and familiar. “You’ll get it, darling, if you want it…”

“I do, Astarion,” she sighed, fingers stroking back and forth on the cotton of his pants, feeling that rising erection instantly straining back.

A monsterous growl in his throat, a burning hunger in his belly, he grasped at the back of her neck, pulling her against his lips.

The age-old dance, the same taste. Closing his eyes, his body transported a millennia ago… as if he could smell blood and woodsmoke and magic in the air mixed with her scent. Had he suppressed so much of his senses he couldn’t recognize her scent? Had he ignored the same beat of her heart in her chest, same musical rush of blood in her veins?

He shook his head to let all that go, realizing her hands already tore through her own blazer and button down, clothing now cast to the floor. Already, she had shimmied off the desk, pressing harder into his kiss. He waited for no further invitation, hands instantly sliding her slacks from her perfect curves, his own clothing suddenly feeling too tight and too abrasive.

Astarion only wanted her skin on him now. After so long. He couldn’t move fast enough, his reflexes had dulled from neglect, his dexterity a fraction of what it once was with her. But it, too, slowly crept back, his hands making quick work of his own clothes.

Suddenly, those fingers remembered the smoothness of her skin, rekindled their dexterity. His hand clawed into her hair, the other stroked down her belly, backing her perfect body to perch on the edge of his desk. The gasp he drew from her lips as he sank two fingers into her folds woke something feral in him, something ancient. Vampiric.

“Tav,” he hissed, nuzzing against the music of her artery, rubbing along the stream of her blood in her neck. “May I, please…”

“Mmm, I want to see your real eyes before you take anything of mine, Astarion,” she purred, arching against him. One hand splayed on the desk behind her, she smirked and watched. Never had anyone removed contacts so quickly, so dexterously.

As he blinked, her heart poured open. That scarlet glare, that tilted head, those mussy silver curls. “I can’t believe it’s you…” she sighed.

His eyes went wide, shining in his unshed tears and well of emotion. “I’m so tired of words, Tav,” he replied, voice cracking with that exhaustion and unbridled desire now. “Just give me all of you, to lose myself in, to lose these long and draining years in, years without you.”

Not another word as said, nothing but the groans of their joining once more, the shudder of their bodies as they fucked, the creaking of the wood beneath her as he slammed his hips against it. Cock buried deep in her cunt, fangs digging into her neck.

Both parts of her were hot and leaking. Blood spilled from his mouth once more—warm and fresh and sweetened with her taste. Arousal leaked into the wood beneath them, her musk and sweat the only perfume he longed to smell.

He swirled his tongue over his bite marks, fresh bleeding wounds that swallowed those scars she was born with. A lasting brand on her skin as she had forever been on his heart, his soul.

He couldn’t bring her close enough to him, fingers clawed into her ass to keep her from sliding away with his frantic thrusts. And she had already wrapped herself around his waist, already scratched up the places of his back that weren’t riddled with scars still. Clutching him tightly to never lose him again.

Their lips were sealed together, locked as they sucked and moved and danced in their ancient kiss, the taste of her blood sending them both reeling into oblivion. She keened as her walls spasmed around his cock, that familiar ripple and beat of her climax pressing against his every wild and erratic thrust.

His forehead resting against her shoulder, the scent of her blood there was the last little push he needed, losing himself in the trembling warmth and comfort and pull of her body. His cock pulsed hard inside her, thrumming against her muscles as he came harder than anything for a thousand years. Forcing his head back up, he locked eyes with her, face twisting and arms shaking as he came. Lips pulled back to show those glistening and reddened fangs.

Her hand braced hard at the back of his neck, keeping her with him as his hips thrust, slowing as he emptied into her. At last he stilled, a foolish, young smile on his gaping lips, lips he licked clean.

He would tell her sometime, how she had made his undead heart remember how to beat and love again twice now. How she brought him back to life over and over again. But with that haze in her eyes, the way she clenched still around his cock, he knew this wouldn’t be the end of their reunion.

Thank the gods.

Lips curling as she met her mouth in a kiss, she drew him in again for more. “I have a hotel…” she whispered.

“And I have a penthouse, darling,” came his instant reply between her ravenous caresses.

“Hmm,” she laughed deep in her throat, their kiss still working slowly, unable to break apart once more. “As long as you keep it cleaner than your tent once was, I accept. Someplace for us until the morning when we return to court…”

His fingers, coated in the scent of her arousal, stayed her mouth. “Tch, surely even a young thing like you knows this will end in mistrial now,” he smirked. “Not even I can think of a clause that allows for lost soul mates to continue in court after such…” he glanced at the mess between their legs, “…debauchery.”

“Oh well,” she feigned disappointment, sliding off to retrieve her clothes. “Worth it…”

Suddenly his arms gripped her, pulling her by the swell of her ass, flush against his naked body one more time. “It’ll be days before either of us must return to court… long, exhausting, pleasure-filled days, darling.”

Tav dove up for his kiss, standing in her tiptoes to meet that smirk that haunted her for centuries. “You better hurry me away to your place, Astarion, or someone will find us here making up for lost time.”

Reluctantly and with a deafening sigh, he relented, busying himself to dress again.

“Oh,” she commented, that taunting tone in her voice, “and don’t think I missed how you never answered it your place was still a mess of chaos again.”

He turned, shaking his head as he refastened his belt. “Well, even if you are disappointed in that regard, I can assure you…” he gave her that look, those half-lidded eyes, that sharpened fanged smirk, “you won’t be left wanting in other regards.”

#astarion x tav #modern au #astarion modern au #judge astarion #lawyer Tav #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #vampire spawn #astarion spawn #spawn astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3

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misc-obeyme · 7 months

Note

Hello!!!! Congratulations on your 1k followers, i love your writing!! Could I please request "I need to hear you say it" with Solomon?? It's OK if not, tysm!!! ✨

Hello, anon!! Thank you so much!!

Okay since the last Solomon request was so angsty, I really tried for some fluff with this one! I also have another one upcoming that I think is going to be angsty, so yeah I really wanted to try to fluff it up. Hopefully it turned out okay!

Thank you for participating!

1,000 Followers Event!

GN!MC x Solomon with prompt "I need to hear you say it."

Warnings: none!

It all started innocently enough. It was almost an inside joke at first. Solomon had made a witty remark about how your time was always monopolized by the demon brothers and that he would be happy just to get a letter from you. So you wrote him a letter - a brief four sentence message that you actually sent to Purgatory Hall through the Devildom mail.

And of course Solomon had written you back - sending you a letter four pages long.

This continued for some time, your letters getting longer and his getting shorter until you were both regularly writing page long letters to each other.

And at some point, the letters became something more. The two of you never talked about them. You never discussed their contents. So the letters became more and more about feelings, emotions that neither of you could speak out loud, either to each other or to anyone else. They started to hold things like your hopes and fears and dreams. Sometimes Solomon just wrote poetry and other times it was an idea for a new spell, but so frequently it was almost a confession. He would talk about things like his jealousy of the brothers, his experience of being immortal, his thoughts on the Devildom, his relationships with your mutual friends.

Your letters were similar, meeting the level of confidence that his letters seemed to indicate he had in you. You would talk about your feelings, share your personal thoughts, the things you didn’t speak to anyone.

When you became Solomon’s apprentice, the letters would sometimes refer to real life events. Solomon would tell you how proud he was of you mastering a complicated spell recently. He would write you letters of encouragement when you were struggling to get a potion just right. Sometimes he would tell you about what it meant to be a sorcerer and how it had affected his life.

You would respond with your doubts about your abilities, your happiness at having figured out something complicated, your gratitude that he was your teacher. You spoke about how patient and kind he was. That it was because of him that you were as powerful as you were.

And then one day you realized that the person you were in those letters was not the same person you were when you were actually with Solomon. The letter writer was more open, more vulnerable, capable of saying things to him that you could never dream of saying to his face.

But Solomon was different. You never got the sense that he was holding back when he was actually with you. Although he never alluded to anything he had written in his letters, he had spoken to you about similar things.

You paid more attention when you were with him. And inevitably your letters became more brief.

You couldn’t deny the pounding of your heart. You couldn’t ignore the look in his eyes. You could not even begin to express to yourself or anyone else how seeing his smile was the same as basking in the afternoon sun. How Solomon had become something so much more than a teacher and a friend. How his words, the ones he wrote and the ones he said, became the narrative of your heart. How each one made every nerve within you sing.

There was something about this man that made him different from everyone else in your life. Something about every single thing he did that caused you to feel more than you should. The fire that ran through your veins any time he touched you. The goosebumps you would get from the sound of his voice.

You couldn’t hope to be honest. You couldn’t imagine it. You couldn’t-

But if you didn’t-

You wrote him a letter. It was only a single sentence. It was the one thing you wanted to say, but that you just couldn’t manage.

You were so scared to send it. He could easily pretend he never got it, the way you both so often did. Never discussing the letters was part of their charm.

When you finally sent it, you spent your time forcing yourself to think about anything else.

A few days later, you were sitting in your favorite cafe, taking a break from everything with some coffee. You were alone because you needed some space to think.

You looked up when Solomon sat down across from you. He placed the piece of paper with your single sentence face up on the table in front of you. You looked at it and then you looked up at his face. The serious expression there made your stomach drop.

“I need to hear you say it,” Solomon said. His voice was quiet, but intense.

You stared at him for a moment, at a loss. Could you even say those words? You had written them because they couldn’t be said. You couldn’t even speak them to yourself, let alone to him. He had to know that.

You thought about saying something else. About explaining why you couldn’t say it.

But then you looked into his eyes again. And what you saw there revealed something that Solomon had never told you, either verbally or in written form. He was scared, too.

You saw your own fear and uncertainty reflected back at you. That was how you recognized it for what it was.

The truth was that you had two relationships with Solomon. The one where you talked to each other, spent time together, went to school and learned magic together. And the one where you wrote to each other. Your written selves had gone on ahead and reached a place your other selves weren’t ready for.

But now you saw the opportunity to entwine those selves, to let each piece of you be known fully to each other.

You put your coffee aside. You reached across the table to take both of his hands. The paper with your words sat between your arms. You looked across it to meet his eyes.

“I’m in love with you.”

You watched as the fear you had seen morphed into a tentative relief. As though he wasn’t sure if this was real.

“MC…”

“It's just that we never talked about the letters,” you said. “And I wasn’t sure if you…”

You were looking down at your message now, unable to maintain eye contact.

You felt him squeeze your hands. When you looked back up, he had a fond smile on his face.

“Did you really think I didn’t know?” Solomon said gently. “That I couldn’t read between the lines of every letter you sent? I tried to make it clear to you. I tried to write things that would give me away. I was waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, I thought I must have been the one who misunderstood. I thought I had been reading a truth in your words that wasn’t actually there.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry.”

Solomon chuckled and squeezed your hands again. “Don’t be. I’m just happy to know that I wasn’t wrong after all. Because you wrote me something I couldn’t possibly misunderstand. And I hope it’s clear to you by now that I’m in love with you, too. I’ve been in love with you ever since you wrote me that first short letter so long ago.”

You sighed, flustered by this, annoyed with yourself for not understanding sooner. You let go of Solomon’s hands and stood up from the table, grabbing the coffee and tossing it in the trash on your way out.

Solomon came after you instantly, grabbing your hand as you started down the street.

“MC?” he said, the fear and uncertainty back in his expression. It nearly broke your heart.

"I'm sorry, Solomon," you said. "I just… I'm just…"

You didn't know how to say that you were feeling overwhelmed. That his words meant more to you than anything he had ever said or written before. Could he really have been in love with you for that long?

Solomon somehow seemed to understand you in that moment. He tugged on your hand, making you take several steps toward him so he could wrap his arms around you.

You returned the embrace, your bodies fitting together perfectly like little puzzle pieces.

"I didn't know how to say it," you said quietly. "Because I'd been writing it between the lines for so long."

"You knew exactly what to say," Solomon said, his volume matching yours. "You said it, didn't you? You said it because I asked. I wasn't sure you would."

You sighed. "Honestly? I'll probably do anything you ask."

Solomon looked at you and the twinkle of mischief in his eyes made you regret saying that. "Oh? In that case… will you kiss me, MC?"

A heartbeat passed between you, a single moment where you processed his words.

And then you kissed him.

All of your previous concerns fell away. The feelings were just as intense as they had always been, but the second your lips met, everything simply felt right. You were filled with the warmth of him, the sunshine that always seemed to come out of nowhere to hold you sweetly whenever he smiled. Solomon was the brightness that guided you through every day, no matter how dark things became.

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