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fizzyxcustard · 11 months

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Those Hands.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Insecurity, comparison, angst, sexual references, mutual pining, idiots in love.

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "Imagine that Thorin is in love with you (from the race of Men) but constantly compares his body and features with other men, thinking you find him disgusting." Requested by multiple readers and anons. (THANK YOU!)

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Thorin watched every little interaction that you had with other males, whether they be Dwarves, Men or Elves. He couldn’t help but watch you blush, avert eye contact and use self-soothing gestures, such as touching your face, curling your hair with your fingers, or rubbing your upper arms.

Since Thorin had been crowned King of Erebor, and re-building was underway, many people visited the mountain. Bard came from Esgaroth, often meeting with Thorin in council, to discuss trade deals and assistance in building. Much to Thorin’s distain, Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, also came. Again, he joined the council to converse around the subject of trade deals in precious metals and gemstones.

Your relationship with Thorin was entirely built on trust. The two of you had been companions out on the road during the quest to re-take Erebor. He had always valued your opinion, spoke with you in private, and kept you close to him on his council of advisors. Erebor was now your home, despite you being of the race of Men. Your family were all gone, meaning that the Dwarves had now taken that place, welcoming you into the fold and treating you as one of their own.

One morning, council was busy. Neldra, one of the kitchen staff, was on hand with jugs of cold drinks and pots of tea. Then once all the drinks were laid out neatly on intricately laced doilies, she came back with a trolley of fresh pastries.

The smell was divine; you took an inhale and let the scent overtake you. Apple and cinnamon were among the selection: your favourite.

You reached out to take one of the pastries, only to feel another hand graze yours. “I apologise,” a voice came, from the direction of the hand.

It was Bard, from two seats down to your right hand side, who had stretched across to grab one of Neldra’s famous delicacies. “It was no bother,” you replied. “You first.”

“Ladies first. I insist.”

Thorin’s blue eyes studied the scene going on before him. No one else had noticed the exchange between you and Bard. Upon the impact of yours and Bard’s hands, Thorin felt a jolt in his chest. It rose up into his throat, and he closed his eyes for a brief second. The red hot sensation bore into him, feeling as if it were forming a hole straight through him. Upon opening his eyes, Thorin looked at his hands, then glanced across to Bard’s. The man’s hands were broad, but his fingers long and slender. Very much unlike Thorin’s. The Dwarf King’s fingers were short and bulky, with stubby ends. Surely Bard’s hands would have the dexterity and skill to caress your skin, drawing shivers from you. A Dwarf’s hands would be too calloused and thick to evoke any kind of pleasurable sensation upon a woman from the race of Men.

Chatter continued, along with eating and drinking. In that time, Thorin tried his hardest to push the negative thoughts from his mind, and concentrate on the conversation at hand, which involved the realms of Erebor and Esgaroth exchanging skilled workers and apprentices.

Thranduil was also present and merely rolled his eyes as the conversation got underway between Bard and Thorin. The Elven King did not like to waste his time, and being in this council meant that there were stints of time where his input was not needed.

“Would you like another drink?” you asked Thranduil, picking up the nearest china pot of tea.

“I would much prefer wine, but since I’m not within my realm, I would not say no.”

Thorin’s gaze darted over to Thranduil, and then to you. He saw you brush a piece of hair behind your ear, and then look up at the Elven King sat opposite you. Your ears were small, with one golden hoop earring in each lobe. Then Thorin looked at Thranduil’s ears; pointed at the tip, finely structured. They weren’t big, round and sticking out. Thorin’s ears were ugly, and thankfully he could keep them hidden under his long hair. Secretly, he had always imagined you whispering against them, your lips brushing them. It made Thorin shiver.

Once council had concluded, Thorin left the chamber and headed back to the royal wing. Once inside and he stood in front of his full length dress mirror, staring at the protruding ears on the side of his head. Then he studied his large hands, thinking back to Bard’s.

The males from the races of Men and Elves made you blush in a way that Thorin never had. Their bodies were more finely crafted, which complemented yours. They had finer features with smaller noses and brows.

Thorin shifted back and sat on his bed, his hands in his lap. He took one more glance at them, feeling disgusted at what he saw. They would never be good enough for you. None of his body would ever be good enough for you. Everything about him was oversized, not delicate and handsome like Bard and Thranduil. Both of them had lost their wives, and may have wished to re-marry, so they would make better husbands for you.

***

The following day and Thorin was sat in the council room, signing documents. His quill scratched loudly against the parchment.

You walked in, holding a further stack of documents in your hands. “These should be the last ones,” you said, offering a smile.

Thorin looked up at you. No blush on your face to be seen.

“Is everything alright?” you asked. There was something in his eyes, a thoughtfulness. Maybe even a sadness. You sat down in an empty seat next to Thorin. “What’s wrong?” On impulse, you placed your hand on top of his.

Thorin looked at your hands, watching your thumb gently caress his knuckle. How huge his hand looked against yours. But how right it felt, as if the size did not matter, and they were still able to fit together as one.

“There is nothing wrong,” Thorin said, forcing a weak smile. “I hear that Bard is leaving this afternoon. Will you not be wishing him farewell?”

“I barely know him,” you replied. “I’d feel it strange to do so.”

“Would you wish to get to know him?”

“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

“Surely you find him handsome,” Thorin continued, pulling the new stack of documents over towards him.

“Not really. Can’t say I do. There’s some reason to you asking this, Thorin.”

“Why would I have any reason?”

“There’s always a reason to anything that you ask. I know you enough by now. Talk to me. You’ve always given me more trust than I deserve, and never questioned me liked this before.”

Thorin took a deep inhale and looked at you, dropping his quill. “Who do you find handsome? If not Bard, maybe Thranduil?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Why ever would you think I’m attracted to King Thranduil?” The whole idea was so comical that you couldn’t help but keep giggling. “It takes….” You couldn’t stop the giggling. “A special….kind of woman….to…..”

Thorin also began to chuckle, watching your face turn red in amusement and delight. His heart somehow felt lighter as he watched you, and that overwhelming love for you rose. It was a love that would allow him to do anything to make you happy. It was a love that would make him sacrifice his very life to keep you safe. It was sacrificial and unconditional.

You could see the glow in Thorin’s eyes and the smile which curled his lips upwards. He was the one you found handsome, above all others. The intensity in his eyes made butterflies swarm in your stomach. His proud presence caused you to shiver whenever he entered a room. His voice was enough to make your imaginations travel to another place where only the two of you were, locked away in comfort, pursuing wondrous pleasure.

You edged closer to Thorin. “You said you want to know who I find handsome?”

Thorin’s heart was hammering now and he was sure that you would be able to hear it.

“It’s you.” Your voice was a whisper. “It’s always been you. How could it not be you? Why would you ever think I’d be attracted to Bard and Thranduil?”

Thorin closed his eyes in embarrassment. “My features and body are not like theirs.”

“So why would that not make you handsome?”

“My hands…”

“Your hands?” you giggled. This time a blush did hit your cheeks, and it was even more vivid than it had ever been when in the company of any other man. “You have found out my secret.”

“What secret?” Thorin asked, shifting ever so slightly closer to you. He had never wanted you any more than he did in those moments. The very thought that it was him that you found handsome was making his whole being rise, but anticipation was now racing down his spine in shivers.

“I have had a fantasy for some time now, since meeting you, of what you could do to me with those hands,” you said, biting your lip.

Thorin couldn’t hold back any more and moved even closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek. His breath was elevated and his eyes were sparkling with so much joy, but slight fear.

His lips crashed against yours and you both groaned upon impact. Within seconds and the kiss had grown deep, your tongues both meeting. You couldn’t help but whimper as Thorin’s lips left yours and trailed down your neck. His beard tickled your skin and then as he grew more impatient, you could feel the tickle become a bristling, sharp sensation. Your hands became lost in his hair as he nuzzled at your neck, groaning and grunting.

Thorin felt your fingertips brush over his ears, and it drew an overwhelming shiver from his very core.

“I love you, Thorin,” you said again. “Now show me what you can do with those hands.”

***

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theostrophywife · 7 months

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kiss with a fist | chapter two.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: baby said by måneskin.

author's note: i'd apologize for the filth, but i'm not actually sorry and at this point you should expect it from me. enjoy theo's cheeky mouth. he singlehandedly started the sassy man revolution.

A strange sense of deja vu washed over you as soon as you walked into the potions lab. Buried deep in the dungeons, the room had always made you feel a bit claustrophobic. You were used to the airiness of Ravenclaw Tower with its twisting spires, starry glass domed ceiling, and four story bookshelves. You couldn’t even see the sky from this far below.

But you supposed that the Slytherins preferred their dark and dreary viper’s nest.

Speaking of serpents, Theo slinked into the classroom with his eyes half-closed, nearly running into the wall. His hair was a tousled mess like he’d just now rolled out of bed. The faded emerald hoodie and gray sweatpants he had haphazardly thrown on looked considerably more casual than your cable knit sweater and plaid skirt.

“You’re late,” you scolded sharply. “How are you late? You literally live here.”

“S’too bloody early.”

Theo yawned lazily as he settled into the seat beside you. He cocked his head, dragging his gaze up and down your body before flicking a stray lock that had fallen out of your braid crown. You always kept your hair up since prefect duties had you running around the castle for the majority of your day. This morning, it was even more prudent to tie it back since you would be working with volatile potions and an even more volatile boy.

“Are you always so prim and perfect?”

“Are you always so sloppy and underwhelming?”

Theo snickered, unfazed by the comment. “Someone’s grumpy this morning.”

“You would be too if you woke up at the ass crack of dawn to nick a muffin from the kitchens.”

The sad looking pastry sat between you, partially crushed from being hastily stuffed into your book bag after barely evading the house elves.

All that hard work disappeared before your eyes as Theo devoured the muffin in seconds. The bloody git had the audacity to swipe your thermos off the table and tipped its contents directly into his mouth, crumbs and all.

His face immediately contorted into disgust. “What in the bloody hell is this?”

“Pumpkin spice latte.”

“Pumpkin what?”

“It’s a muggle thing.”

“It’s an abomination, is what it is.”

You snatched the thermos back. “No one told you to drink it. Do you even know how long it took for me to collect enough instant coffee packets to last the whole term? And here you are wasting it.”

Theo looked properly scandalized. “Why on Godric’s green earth would anyone drink coffee from a packet? You don’t have one of those—what do you call them—expression machines?”

“Espresso,” you corrected. “No, Theodore, I do not have an espresso machine because that would require electricity, which doesn’t really fit this castle’s medieval aesthetic.” You paused. “How do you even know about those?”

“I’m half Italian. How would I not know about espresso?”

“You called it expression.”

“Yeah, well, my nonna doesn’t have all of her teeth so sorry for pronouncing things incorrectly. If you don’t like it, take it up with that crazy old strega.”

You fought the urge to laugh. The little anecdote would not distract you from the mission. “Right, if you’re quite done insulting my taste in coffee, we should get to brewing.”

“You don’t have taste in coffee. That’s the problem.” You glared at him, causing Theo to sigh deeply. “That was for my countrymen. Go on, then. Show me what you’ve got so far.”

Theo watched silently as you lit your cauldron with a flick of your wand. Between you floated your advanced potions textbook, turning its own pages as you carefully followed the recipe. It didn’t matter that the instructions were so ingrained in your mind that Luna said that she’d heard you muttering it in your sleep. You were still going to follow the bloody book like it was your first brew.

The ingredients were simple. A sprig of wormwood. Two crushed newt spleens. Three blood slugs diagonally sliced with surgical precision. Four ashwinder eggs grinded into a fine powder. Most importantly, five crushed petals from the Angel’s Trumpet flower, which the draught derived its name from. Bring to a gentle boil. Wait precisely twenty minutes. Stir counterclockwise. Then clockwise again.

“It’s clockwise and then counterclockwise,” Theo declared, speaking for the first time in nearly half an hour.

“The book says the opposite.”

“I know what the book says.”

You brandished the ash stirrer in your right hand like a wand. “This wouldn’t be some clever ploy to take out your academic rival, would it?”

Theo rolled his eyes. “First of all, I prefer nemesis. Second of all, you’re the one more inclined to violence out of the two of us. If anyone should fear for their life in this room, it would be me.”

“Fair point. But how are you so sure the instructions are wrong?”

“Because this has never failed me.”

With that, Theo pulled out a small book from his pocket. It expanded as he touched it, nearly taking up half the table. The book was old, ancient even, with a worn leather cover that you highly suspected to be made of dragonhide. The title glowed with an eerie silver light.

Il grimorio della famiglia Marchesi.

The grimoire of the Marchesi family.

“Marchesi?” you asked in disbelief. “As in, the Marchesis of Triora?”

The Marchesis were an ancient wizarding family that traced their ancestry back to the small Italian village of Triora. The city of witches, they called it. Their most notable ancestor was Alessandra Marchesi. The young strega was much changed by the witch trials that had swept over her sleepy town during her childhood, but instead of shunning muggle influence, Alessandra embraced their queer traditions and used it to her advantage.

She tracked the inventions of her non-wizard counterparts diligently and reverse engineered it for magical purposes. The pages of her grimoire were said to be filled with invaluable knowledge. Alessandra invented potions, charms, and even hexes that helped shape the wizarding world as you knew it today. Her ideas birthed a sort of magical renaissance in the strenghe community.

Under her leadership, the Marchesi family produced some of the most powerful witches and wizards not only in Italy, but Europe as a whole. Some of them had even attended Hogwarts and were unsurprisingly sorted in your house.

Alessandra Marchesi was a visionary like no other and a legend amongst the Ravenclaws. Any one of your housemates would have killed to lay eyes on her grimoire.

And here it was, propped casually in front of you.

In the hands of Theodore Nott, of all people.

You stared at the worn yellow pages, eyeing the elegant script with such intense scrutiny that you almost went cross eyed. The writing was in Italian, but that didn’t stop you from devouring every word.

“I can’t believe that I’m reading the Marchesi grimoire,” you muttered to yourself. “Written by the Alessandra Marchesi herself.”

“I’m flattered that you’re so interested in my family.”

“The fact that you’re even related baffles the mind.”

Theo rolled his eyes and pointed at the bottom right hand corner of the page. Senso orario. Antiorario.

You knew enough Italian to realize that Theo was right. “Is this how you’ve been first in potions all this time?”

He gasped dramatically. “Your lack of belief in my skills is highly offensive, but not entirely unexpected, diavolina. The grimoire is helpful, but my nonna only recently bestowed this little family heirloom to me this past holiday. I’m afraid that I’ve been beating you with my own talents for years.”

You didn’t know if that disturbed or comforted you.

“Why share it with me?” you asked.

If the roles were reversed, you certainly wouldn’t. The grimoire gave Theo an edge that he could’ve easily kept to himself. As a Ravenclaw, your first instinct was to guard and covet knowledge in order to climb the academic hierarchy. There was very little you wouldn’t do to secure first place. Perhaps you were more similar to the Slytherins in that way.

“I thought the nerd in you might appreciate it,” Theo teased. “Plus, I didn’t want you to think that I was cheating. When I beat you once and for all, I want you to know that I did so out of my own superior abilities.”

“You’re incredibly smug, do you know that?”

“I’m confident in my skills,” Theo said nonchalantly, plastering on that ever snarky smirk. “In and out of the potions lab, principessa.”

He winked, which made you roll your eyes. “Now let the expert show you how it’s done.”

You tensed slightly as Theo approached from behind. He chuckled as his chest brushed against your back, effectively caging you in. “Relax, diavolina. I have no plans to ravish you in this lab again. At least not until the potion is properly brewed.”

A shiver skittered down your spine as you actively fought the urge to arch against him. Stupid hormones. Thanks to your ill advised romps, your body reacted to Theo’s touch against your will. You gripped the stirrer so tightly that it was one squeeze away from breaking.

“Gently,” Theo murmured as his right hand enveloped yours. He rested his left hand against your hip, rubbing soothing circles underneath your cable knit sweater. The action had the opposite effect. If anything, a different sort of tension brewed between you.

“Senso orario,” he said, reciting the instructions from the grimoire. Theo slipped his fingers between yours and stirred clockwise. Suddenly, the room felt much hotter than it had a second ago.

You were keenly aware of his fingers lightly gripping your waist and for a horrible, nauseating moment, you imagined what it would be like to have him strip off your skirt and rip the wool tights off your legs so you could feel those rough, calloused hands against your bare thighs.

“Antiorario,” Theo said after ten stirs. You startled, sweat dripping off your back as he reversed your movements. The mixture bubbled gently the more you stirred.

“Shall I put it in?” His breath fanned over your neck, making you feel even more overheated than you already were.

“What?”

Theo’s lips twitched. “The petals. Shall I put them in or would you like to do the honors?”

“I’ve got it,” you said rather quickly.

In your haste, you swiped the crushed petals off of the cutting board and dropped them into the draught. In the back of your mind, the instructions that you had so diligently memorized flashed like some horrible omen. Drop the petals one by one. You realized your mistake just as Theo pulled you towards him, shielding you from the cauldron. The entire thing roiled violently before spewing magenta down the back of Theo’s hoodie.

You watched in horror as pepto bismol pink dripped from his curls. “I mean, I know you’d do anything to be first in class, but blowing me to bits is a bit severe, don’t you think?”

“Oh my god,” you exclaimed, turning him over. “Are you alright?”

The back of his hoodie looked like Theo had been involved in a rather violent skirmish with a cotton candy machine, but he appeared unharmed otherwise.

He smirked. “It’s touching that you care so much about my well-being. However disconcerting it may be.”

“You shouldn’t have jumped in front of me, you idiot. That could’ve been so much worse. I will not have your death on my conscience, Theodore.”

“Funny,” he said as he pulled his hoodie off. It raised the shirt underneath as well, giving you an unfortunate glimpse of his toned abs. “I wasn’t aware you even had a conscience.”

“Fuck,” you cursed, completely ignoring his quip. “The grimoire.”

For an excruciating moment, your heart felt like it had dropped to your stomach. If anything happened to the grimoire, you never would have forgiven yourself. Fortunately, there seemed to be a protection charm over the entire thing, because it appeared completely unblemished despite the geyser that had spewed out of the cauldron.

“Oh thank Godric.”

“That old thing’s got about a million protective charms on it that are older than either one of us,” Theo reassured you. “The grimoire is impervious to your violence. I, however, am not.”

“Sit,” you commanded, pointing to a stool. “I’ll clean you up.”

“I’m perfectly capable of casting scourgify.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not everything has to be done with magic. Besides, I thought you’d jump at the chance to have me at your beck and call.”

“Fair point,” Theo said, settling into his seat. “I wouldn’t mind being fussed over.”

It took a few minutes for you to tidy up the mess on the table. Using magic would’ve been easier, but cleaning had always helped to clear your mind. Sometimes you spent an entire day scouring your dorm from top to bottom. Your housemates thought it was strange since a simple spell would’ve done the trick, but it was more a mental exercise than anything else.

When you cleaned, it felt like your mind was being refreshed. Clearing out old thoughts, polishing new ideas, vacuuming unpleasant memories. It was vital to your sanity. You and Luna had bonded over it during first year. She was the only one who was willing to roll her sleeves up and get her hands dirty. It reminded you of doing spring cleaning with your mum and dad, whom you missed dearly. You had never really been away from them for this long until you came to Hogwarts.

You suspected that Luna knew that the obsessive cleaning had more to do with your homesickness than anything else, but you always appreciated the fact that she never pushed you to talk unless you offered.

Despite what others might say, Luna was a stellar example of what a Ravenclaw should be. Clever, intuitive, and witty without all the pretentiousness that most of your housemates seemed to proudly parade around with.

You thought fondly of your friend, who just this morning shot you a knowing look as you slinked off to the dungeons before anyone else awoke.

Give my regards to Theodore, she said with a faint smile.

The suspect in question regarded you with mild curiosity as you approached with a washcloth and basin. Even seated on the stool, Theo towered over you. The back of his neck was splattered with bubblegum pink and it dotted the sharp line of his jaw and even the cut of his cheekbones.

Theo watched in silence as you wiped away the remnants of the failed draught. He wore a neutral expression, but his shoulders were tense and his eyes flickered over you like he was analyzing your every move.

“If you wanted an excuse to touch me, you could’ve just said so,” he teased with a slight smirk. “No need for the assassination attempt, Y/N.”

“Trust me, Theodore. If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

“Such a charming little bird,” he taunted. “Does that line work on the boys back home?”

You raised a brow. That was the second time he’d brought the subject up. “Why do you ask? Jealous that I might be directing my feminine wiles on anyone other than you?”

Theo scoffed. “No one else would be able to deal with your sparkling personality, diavolina.” Something flickered in those stormy eyes as you gently dragged the washcloth over his cheek. “I’m just curious as to what you’ve been up to this holiday. Haven’t you wondered what I was doing?”

“Contrary to your egotistical belief, I don’t spend every waking moment thinking of you. Besides, I figured you’d be doing something stereotypically rich like sailing around the Amalfi Coast and hunting dolphins for sport.”

“As opposed to spending the entire break memorizing Slughorn’s personal recommendations so you can recite obscure potion knowledge in class?”

You flushed, not bothering to deny the fact. Theo smirked. “I thought Uni was supposed to be more exciting than that. Shouldn’t you be getting smashed at pubs and taking strangers home?”

“Not all of us can afford the distraction,” you said with an eye roll. “Or venereal diseases. Why the sudden interest, anyways? Don’t tell me that you’re planning on applying to Oxford. I don’t think I could handle another three years of you, Nott.”

He wrinkled his nose. “If I were to attend university, it sure as hell won’t be at Oxford.”

“Gods, you sound like one of those posh snobs from Cambridge.”

“Cambridge is a world-renowned university with an excellent magical division.”

Your eyes widened as you came to the realization. “Merlin’s beard, you are one of those Cambridge snobs, aren’t you? I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Theo crossed his arms. “I’m not a posh snob.”

“Theodore, you live in a bloody manor. I hate to break it to you, but you definitely wouldn’t be considered blue collar.”

“I don’t live there anymore. Not since…” Not since my father was sentenced to Azkaban for being one of the Dark Lord’s top Death Eaters.

“Right,” you said rather quickly. “Sorry—I—didn’t mean to—”

Theo patted your hand and grinned. “Oh don’t look so distressed, Y/N. I assure you I’m not living in squalor. Despite my father’s imprisonment, the ministry was kind enough to allow me to keep a flat in London.” You noted the hint of bitterness in his voice. “Though if you ask my nonna, she’d tell you that an Azkaban sentence would be preferable to the dreary English weather.”

That made you smile a bit. “I suppose the rain and muck is rather offensive to someone who’s used to the Italian sunshine.”

“You have no idea,” Theo muttered. “You’d think I dragged her to the States instead of Primrose Hill.”

“Primrose Hill?” You asked, scrunching your brows. “I don’t remember there being a wizarding neighborhood there.”

“There’s not,” Theo confirmed. “And I quite prefer it that way.”

There was an edge to his voice that told you not to press further.

“So, I gather that you and your nonna are close?”

“More like I’m the only grandchild that hasn’t disappointed her so far. Hence the grimoire.”

“Is Cambridge her idea or yours? I heard that they have an excellent Potions program. Second to Oxford, of course.”

The corner of Theo’s mouth quirked. “My mother’s, actually.”

You knew that his mother had passed when he was young. Not much was known about the circumstances of her death, but it was assumed that Theo had witnessed it since he was one of the few students that were able to see the thestrals.

“After she graduated from Hogwarts, mum went on to study potions at Cambridge. She used to take me to campus during her alumni events. One time I begged her to buy me a jumper from the stores and I wore that damned thing down to its last thread.”

There was a faraway expression on his face as he glanced out of the dungeon windows. The sunlight was barely starting to spear through the Black Lake, spreading a mosaic of colors across the potions lab. Theo looked contemplative. Pensive, almost.

On the surface, his playful nature was very much on display, but somewhere deep within, you could see a hint of sadness bleeding through. It felt like you were intruding on a private moment. Witnessing something that you weren’t supposed to see.

It was highly unnerving to say the least, so you deflected. “You know, Oxford and Cambridge have a deep seethed rivalry. It would be sort of poetic for us to end up on opposing sides again.”

For a split second, Theo appeared to be analyzing you like some undecipherable code. Like he knew you were giving him an out. The scrutiny in his gaze unnerved you. Then his expression changed, that familiar smirk falling firmly back in place. He slipped on that cocky arrogance like a mask.

You wondered how many times he’s done it without you even noticing.

“More poetic than reenacting the very first detention that led us here?”

Without meaning to, you glanced at the supply closet in the back of the room. Nearly a year ago, the two of you had been arguing about the best way to organize the crate of vials Snape had left for you when you finally pushed Theo against the wall and kissed him in order to shut him up.

You swallowed thickly just as Theo’s slender fingers curved around the back of your thighs. The barrier of your wool tights suddenly felt oppressive even though you’d worn them for warmth.

“What happened to not ravishing me until a successful brew?”

“Seeing as you’re entirely hopeless, we might be brewing for the remainder of the day,” Theo said as he pulled you against him. His lips ghosted against the column of your throat, smiling when he felt you shiver underneath him. “And I don’t think I can wait that long without a taste.”

“What if I say no?” you quipped.

He pressed soft kisses along your jaw in response. “That may be an even bigger miracle than you brewing the damn draught, but go ahead, little bird. I’d love to see you try.”

The two of you stared at one another. You were going to cave. Theo knew it. You knew it. If you were capable of saying no to the insufferable git, you wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. Finally, you sighed.

“Fuck it.”

You pressed your lips against his, nearly toppling him over on the stool. He groaned against your mouth, walking you backwards to the supply closet. Theo lifted you up with ease and secured your legs around his waist, clearing the room in less than a minute.

A smirk tugged at your lips when he briefly pulled away to nip at your neck. “What?” he asked, his voice a low rumble against your skin.

“You taste like pumpkin spice.”

There was nothing but pure hunger in his gaze as Theo nudged the door open with his foot. He set you down against a wooden slab before kneeling between your legs.

You shivered when those hypnotizing eyes flickered back up to you.

“Don’t worry, diavolina. I’ll taste like you soon enough.”

If someone held you at wand point and forced you to say one nice thing about Theodore, it would be that the boy knew how to eat pussy. He probably authored the manual on it. Nott did things with his tongue that defied the very laws of nature.

You whimpered as he flicked his tongue over your clit, circling not once but twice before lapping up your arousal like a man starved. When his slender fingers joined the mix, you could’ve sworn that you’d transcended reality all together. Theo remained transfixed on you even as he brought you closer to the edge, his forearm keeping your hips pinned down to keep you from arching against his mouth.

“Louder, principessa. I want to hear those pretty little moans when I make you come.”

The sound that came out of your mouth sounded nothing like you. “Oh god, oh my fucking god—“

“You can just call me Theo, you know.”

You laughed hoarsely as you pulled his hair. “Twat.”

“Oh, I’m quite enjoying yours at the moment.”

Whatever retort forming in your mind died on your tongue as his fingers curled inside of you, touching that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. The orgasm was a blinding light, an exploding supernova that incinerated your nerves as Theo brought you to the edge. When you came with a cry, he gave your clit a harsh suck and crooked his fingers until you felt overstimulated. Theo had no intention of slowing down even as you spasmed underneath his touch.

“You didn’t think that was it, did you?” Theo teased, his mouth glistening with your arousal. “We’re just getting started, darling. I went a whole summer without tasting you and I’m warning you now. I’m fucking ravenous.”

“I can’t—I can’t take any more, please.”

He chuckled darkly. “I do love it when you beg, but I know you can take more. I’ve seen you do it. I want your legs to shake so badly that you won’t even be able to stand before I’m done with you, diavolina. Then and only then will I consider stopping. Do you understand?”

Your throat felt dry, but you nodded all the same. “You’re a sadist, Nott.”

“And you’re my little masochist," he said, smirking between your thighs. Danger flashed in those watercolor eyes. Theo was far from finished with you. "What a twisted pair we make.”

A shiver skittered down your spine as he yanked your hips towards him. “Now be a good little witch and spread those legs wide, dolcezza. We’re about to find out how many licks it takes to make a Ravenclaw scream.”

Taglist: @annaisabookworm@marina468@yaraasthings @the0doreslover@bubybubsters@moony-artemis @natasha887@lucyysthings@criesinlies @bunnymallowo@niktwazny303@letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl@wordsarelife@clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar @mishtay @cherry-hoe @littlebookbengal @maybefoxysouls @nomup @aliensknowmyillusions @cinderellawithashoe @starsval @kalulakunundrum @lucyysthings @siriuslysmoking @purplegirls-posts @unstablereader @lqclercs @whatsupb18 @rikirritated @psychedeliccc

Please let me know if you'd like to be added.

#ugh he's so filthy i love him so much #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott smut #theo nott fic #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theo nott imagine #theo nott x you #theo nott fluff #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine

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sometimesraven · 10 months

Text

Unpopular writing opinion:

We need more absolutely vile, unlikeable villains. There’s a place for villains you can "babygirl" but I’m bored of it. Give me the most nasty disgusting villains that will make me cringe into the earth you cowards.

There's this entire thing that's cropped up around 'likeable' or 'relatable' villains where, instead of being a cautionary tale about how we can all end up there or how people who seem lovely can actually be vile, it's become "uwu babygirl isn't evil after all"

And like there's a place for it! I like my fair share of babygirl villains! Hell I was there all the way back when Thor was released and Loki kicked off the popularisation of this trend!

I'm just,,, bored of it now. Especially when I'm seeing people do the whole babygirlification process on real-ass human beings???? It's gone too far.

Give me vile.

Give me the eugenicist who wants to eradicate 'imperfections' because he thinks he's an agent of God

Give me an abusive horrible parent but don't tell me they're trying just show me from their kid's eyes the catharsis of getting them the fuck out of their life

Give me the fuckin westboro baptist church for elves or someshit i don't care, just give me something I can hate with my entire being so that I can feel the rush of vindication when they inevitably get defeated.

There's too many irredeemable, vile people in real life. Especially as a trans person right now, it's easy to fall into despair when I see how untouchable those people seem to be, and how many people will defend them based on their motivations or some other "relatable" bullshit.

Give me a story that shows they're not as untouchable as they seem. Give me a story that shows there's always hope for the downtrodden; that the vile, horrible people trying to destroy us are just that, and they don't deserve a single tear. Stop trying to humanise our abusers, because we know they're humans but they don't care that we are too.

Just once, give me someone I can sink my teeth into and tear apart without the slightest touch of empathy. Give me what I can't have in real life.

#this got a lil more personal than i intended oops #writing opinions #writing community #villain characters #writing villains #urban fantasy #authors of tumblr #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #authorblr #indie author #queer author #neurodivergent author #but hey 'be the change you want to see'#my villain is irredeemable and untouchable #i will destroy him

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socksracoon10 · 3 months

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Being an Elf and falling in love with Thorin

Headcanons below the cut!

When Gandalf had first summoned you, it wasn't a very easy decision to make.

Being a Sindar elf yourself, the choice of having to derail from your own beliefs bruised your ego... especially since you were entrusted with overseeing Thorin and his company.

"My dear (Y/N)," Gandalf sighed, "I can not trust any other elf with such an arduous task. I know you are capable of setting aside your prejudices and aiding these dwarves."

"You saved my life once from the Uruk-hais. I am indebted to you for that, Gandalf. But I believe that this will be the one time I shall repay you for your kindness in this manner. Do not expect more from me." You muttered with a bitter tone.

"I do not plan on it." Gandalf reassured you.

When you first met the company under Bilbo's roof, there was silence. An eerie amount of silence.

The hobbit before you seemed enchanted by your presence.

You learned his name was Bilbo; he was the most sensible out of the bunch at the moment.

Your eyes traveled across the room and landed on Thorin, who had a nasty scowl on his face.

He wasn't expecting you to actually show up. He had hoped that for once that elvish pride would've saved him from having to face another individual of the same kind that had betrayed him years ago.

The silence continued, and you made your presence known. You were here to help the dwarves, nothing more and nothing less. You would accompany them to The Misty Mountains, but you would not step foot into their sacred lair. Not out of respect, but out of the sheer disgust you had for the dwarves.

Not even Eru could force you to enter their dwelling; it seemed as if death was the better option.

The journey there was not an easy one.

And Thorin didn't make it any easier.

He'd pass sly remarks every so often about you, try to demean you in front of everyone. He was constantly fighting a battle to ensure that you were beneath him in every aspect, despite being one of the most skilled elves to traverse Middle-Earth.

"Ah, it's best not to anger (Y/N), Thorin," Gandalf would quip from the background, wanting to ease the tension.

It did nothing.

There was an instance where you had left the group to gain more ground and a safer pathway for the dwarves through the forests.

Yeah, biggest mistake ever and Thorin wouldn't stop nagging you about it.

Those stupid trolls had gotten to them and Bilbo had managed to stall them long enough before Gandalf used the sunlight as a weapon.

"I left for one day... forgive me, I was merely trying to secure a safe path," You hissed at Thorin as he shoved past you.

"A safe path will only do if the company itself is safe first, elf," He spat, glancing over his shoulder. You so desperately wanted to spear your blade through his heart.

The rest of the trip resumed its unsteady silence. You glared at the other dwarves, not wishing to say anything to them. Occasionally, you'd offer a helping hand to Bilbo.

That didn't go unnoticed by Thorin. He didn't really like Bilbo as much, but compared to you? Bilbo was far better, and the stupid burglar was mingling with the wrong person.

However, his concerns of Bilbo shifted to his two nephews - Fili and Kili.

While they still harbored some resentment towards you for being a Sindar Elf, they were still young. They were naive, they did not experience that devastating day when Thranduil's forces abandoned Thorin's desperate cries for help.

And so what did they do?

They talked. Talked, and talked. Especially, Kili. Fili would add a joke once or twice, but if he ever caught Thorin's watchful eye, he'd gulp his words and nudge Kili to quit.

And then slowly, one by one... the dwarves were opening up to you.

Balin was more sympathetic, he was a very kind and wise dwarf. You actually enjoyed his presence.

Bofur was a bit reluctant to talk to you at first, but slowly came around. You noticed this when he asked you if you needed more food on your plate when you were dining in Rivendell. That was enough to tell you that perhaps there could be friendships between the dwarves and the elves.

You saved their asses a couple times, especially with the Goblins. Killed some orcs led by Azog. And then watched Azog brutally wound Thorin.

And then something switched in you. For a moment, you felt your breath hitch at the sight of him, dazed and unconscious. Something began to stir inside of you, and you couldn't place your finger on it. It almost felt... unworldly.

And that feeling continued... even when you ended up facing Thranduil, who was so puzzled at the fact that one of his own kind was helping those dwarves...

"I am repaying a debt that I owe to Gandalf," You explained, your head jutted up high into the air.

"What a terrible way to repay it, (Y/N)." Thranduil grimaced, "If you wanted an opportunity to keep yourself occupied, you could've turned to Legolas and he would've found you a wonderful position among my kingdom. We could use elves such as yourself, you know."

"Ah, but I could not say the same for you," You bit back, noticing the way his eyes widened at your audacity.

Word of your defiance quickly spread to the dwarves as the elves guarding them gossiped about it with such eager interest.

It fell onto Thorin's ears.

He almost thought they were lying to him. He couldn't believe it.

And as you passed Thorin's cell to enter your own, much farther away from the dwarves, you noticed something different about him.

He was smiling at you, a twinkle in his eyes. He seemed... proud? Ecstatic?

When the company and you had escaped via the barrels, you had almost hit a rock down the river. It was surreal to see the way Thorin's hands stretched out to warn you.

It seemed as if he cared.

You took a daring risk to climb off the barrel to kill some orcs, almost slipping across the branch in the process as you jumped back into your barrel.

"Be careful, elf!" Thorin cried out, "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"And what does it matter to you?" You snapped, furrowing your brows.

He did not respond.

He did not need to.

Because you sort of knew the answer by the way he glanced back at you with a soft smile.

You mattered to him.

More than reclaiming the Mountains? The answer was obviously no.

But when you climbed up and watched him excitedly open the hidden entrance to the inside of the Lonely Mountains, his eyes flashed towards you for a split second.

As if he was waiting to see your reaction as well.

And when you gave in and smiled.

With or without the gold, the Arkenstone or the throne,

He felt as if he was the richest dwarf to ever live.

You mattered to him.

He mattered to you.

And thus began, the love between an elf and a dwarf.

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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months

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Astarion with gnome Tav HC?

Ok, we all know Astarion hates gnomes. And his facial expressions during the first date if you play Gnome Tav are priceless. Like, he doesn't smile and definetely does his best trying to hold back slurs.

I have been to his shoes coz I found gnomes weird and freaky. To write this Headcanon, I read manuals about them and got to this description:

It’s rare for a gnome to be hostile or malicious unless he or she has suffered a grievous injury. Gnomes know that most races don’t share their sense of humor, but they enjoy anyone’s company just as they enjoy everything else they set out to do. It’s rare for a gnome to be hostile or malicious unless he or she has suffered a grievous injury. Gnomes know that most races don’t share their sense of humor, but they enjoy anyone’s company just as they enjoy everything else they set out to do.

And then I googled gnomes.

Source

Honestly, if you think gnomes are ugly - you've met the wrong gnomes!

Thanks @evillittlebirdie for the next concept

A gnome that hates elves and an elf that hates gnomes

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x Gnome!Tav

You are tiny, only 3.2 ft.

All your life you spent far from "big folk", living deep in the woods.

But you were always warned against the elves, those arrogant pricks who think the world belongs to them.

Astarion… hates gnomes. It's not uncommon for elves to be weird about them but he has some personal issues.

Maybe it's his "brother's" fault, maybe some dating preferences.

"Dwarves are fine, but gnomes! Freaky and ugly."

You can't understand where this comes from.

Gnomes are peaceful. Kind. Never malicious to anyone. Always accepting strangers in their homes and caves. So why is your kind so hated?

You bicker but eventually you fall for Astarion's charms (and he suppresses his disgust to seduce you).

Maybe elves aren't that bad, after all.

And Astarion suddenly realizes he isn't averted by you.

Tiny. Yes. You are barely tall enough to reach up to his hips.

But you are cute. Beautiful, even.

Like a small elf.

Finally, Astarion confesses to you.

That he manipulated you. That he used you.

And what is worse, he hated the mere idea to touch you. As if you were some nasty creature.

Like a goblin.

He apologizes for that and is waiting for your verdict.

He expects you to yell. To curse him.

You do nothing of that. You approach Astarion and hug him.

Well, for him you are the most beautiful person in the world.

To kiss you, he has to kneel (or pick you up like a child)

You were embarrassed first to be carried around - besides, you are considered "tall" by gnome standards!

But you learn to like it. Your weight is 40 pounds and Astarion can carry you on his shoulders as long as you want

And, the hells, you enjoy it!

Firstly, because Astarion can go faster and longer if you don't slow him down, and, second, you can see the world around not being blocked by taller people.

When you go like that, you play with his curls and carefully touch his ears (it's impossible to resist when you are so close).

He loves your feather-like touches.

He still laughs at your height, though

"Oh, I am sorry I can't hear you from up here!"

"Apologies, darling, I thought someone was squeaking!"

And you wait for the opportunity to mock him for heing the tall one.

"Oh, I am sorry, I forgot I travel with a brainless giant!"

As a gnome, your desire to help is innate. It's just against your nature to deny someone's needs.

And more often than usual, Astarion has to carry you away before you agree on something too dangerous or too cheap.

"I am Astarion and this is my micro-wife. Ouch!"

When you stay together in taverns and inns, you don't have to pay for two beds - a single bed fits you both.

And Astarion always presses you to his chest - you drown in his arms. You feel safe and protected.

Sometimes, you hear mockery and evil laughs.

"An elf and a gnome, can you fucking believe it?"

You usually let these words go but Astarion doesn't.

He beats those who dare speak ill of you two and makes them kneel and beg for forgiveness.

Gnomes live long, up to 400 years. And you are young. As a gnome, you want a stable home (when you get tired of travels) and somewhere to stash things.

And you understand Astarion craves stability as well - so he will get it with you.

A comfy home in the woods among your kind.

Gnomes are accepting, after all.

Even if it's a vampire.

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

#spacebarbarian headcanon #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #tav x astarion #astarion x f!tav #dnd gnome #gnomes #gnome

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captainninej · 2 years

Text

on rings of power

listen. as a brown girl who grew up in new zealand, ADORING lord of the rings but being keenly aware of how there was no representation for me in it, i LOVE the idea of having diverse actors and poc in a tolkien adaptation. i would eat that shit up!!! are you kidding me!!! little me would have died dead!!!!!

but i don't want it from amazon. from bezos' sticky fingers themselves (and let's be honest, do you think amazon really cares about representation?). i don't want it if it disrespects the source material, is affiliated with amazon, if it's a clear cash grab bootleg game of thrones. i don't want it when the creators have said that they think they could do a better job crafting middle earth than tolkien himself.

so no, people on tumblr who claim that every single person who opposes rings of power must be somehow influenced by the (very real and disgusting) racist side of the fandom. that's a very shallow take for fans who are poc like me. i grew up watching peter jackson's movies, and yes while they were also capitalist enterprises from top to bottom, there's so much love in those movies. every single shot is so lovingly made and maybe as a new zealander i'm biased because i know people who worked on the films and i've seen the sets and so forth.

jeff bezos and amazon are not capable of crafting tolkien's beautiful world with love. if they were, they would have given the elves their luscious long hair. they would have given Dis a beard. they wouldn't have girlbossed galadriel when her story is powerful enough on its own without her being a warrior, and they wouldn't have been so arrogant towards the creator of the stories they are now telling. not to mention, tolkien specifically uses lotr as a stance against industrialism and the destruction of the environment - two things amazon literally EMBODIES to a t. for them to tell tolkien's stories just feels...wrong.

i'm not going to judge anyone who does watch the show. i'm going to welcome any new tolkien fans with open arms. but i won't be watching it, and this is why. and it doesn't make me a flaming racist. it just means that lotr means the world to me and i don't trust amazon to handle it as gently as it deserves.

#lotr #rings of power #tolkien #jrr tolkien #lord of the rings #amazon

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evilwizard · 1 year

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i just made house elves real btw. and those disgusting FREAKS are advancing on jk rowling’s house as we speak

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captain039 · 7 months

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PART 3 The lords servant

Astarion x reader

Warnings: plus size reader, light swearing, vampire things, sexual, first times, eventual smut, angst, slow burn

Previous part <-

Cleaning up after a party was a new kind of torture. You had to clean so many dishes, throw out food, close all the curtains, clean the floors, the tables and whatever else was in this damn mansion. You were on last strings of patience’s and the head servant kept making you do things. You were ready to smack the woman over the head, maybe then she’d have some sense that you were tired. You took a small break when nobody was around, lying on one of the guest beds, you’ll make it afterwards, right now you wanted five minutes. You laid there comfortable hands resting above your head as you let out a sigh.

“You look rather ravishing laid out like that” you heard from the door way and jolted up right seeing the lord. You quickly got off the bed straightening out your dress and cursing yourself silently.

“I’m so sorry my lord” you said panting slightly.

“It’s alright, Alle seems to be working you harsh” he said and you nodded slightly.

“Much to be done” you said.

“That can be done slowed over the course of a week, please sit back down” he gestured to the bed and your aching feet made you give in.

“I will speak to her” the lord said.

“No please don’t!” You said quickly making him frown.

“You’ve already done enough, this is my job” you said.

“My lord” you quickly added as he sighed and walked over. His fingers found your chin again, making you looked up to him.

“Forcing yourself to work till exhaustion is not acceptable” he said thumb gently stroking your chin. You went to say something, but closed your mouth cheeks on fire.

“Especially after last night” his eyes went stern as you remembered back to the events.

“I would’ve happily dug their graves if you asked, disgusting creatures” he scoffed and you tensed lightly.

“It’s in the past” you said simply moving your head from his hold.

“It doesn’t matter anymore” you added softly.

“It matters” he said quietly and you looked to him again.

“It’s closed you off, you’re afraid of touch, afraid of a caring partner ready to do your bidding” he added and you frowned slightly, before shaking your head.

“Nobody wants me my lord, I can assure you” you scoffed lightly.

“Someone does” he said and you didn’t believe him.

“Look at me!” You didn’t mean to snap, but you did.

“I’m hideous!” You added seeing his gaze go stern.

“Even my own family despises me” you scoffed.

“Then they should be buried too” he snarled making you flinch lightly, you wouldn’t wish death upon anyone, why was he so quick to snuff out those who hurt you? Did he really care? No, those thoughts weren’t correct, nobody truely cared unless they wanted something, someone like him would never stoop so low to have any form of intimacy or care towards you.

“I must continue cleaning” you shut off, shut him out and stood as you straightened out the bed you just laid and sat on. You heard him growl and leave swiftly making you say with tears in your eyes.

At night you enjoyed some well earned dinner and bath, before doing your nightly check. You saw the lords office open and frowned slightly not hearing any activity’s. You glanced in seeing his eyes closed, breathing slow. You heart swelled slightly as you smiled and stepped in softly. You blew out most the candles before grabbing a blanket.

“You’re rather sneaky” he suddenly said and you jumped.

“Apologies my lord I didn’t wish to wake you” you said.

“I wasn’t sleeping anyway” he said glancing to the blanket in your hands with a light smirk.

“Elves don’t sleep? They go into a sort of meditative rest yes?” You asked and he nodded stretching.

“You’re correct” he smiled.

“I enjoy sleep to much to not do it” you chuckled lightly lying the blanket back down over the couch, listening to him shuffle behind you. You turned back to him only to find him in front of you.

“Oh” you muttered his intense gaze upon you again. You couldn’t back away with the couch touching the back of your calves.

“My lord-“ you began, but suddenly felt lips pressing to yours. You made a surprised noise quickly shoving him back. He stumbled a bit frowning slightly. Your heart pounded and your cheeks burned hot as you felt tears in your eyes.

“I told you- i said not to toy with me!” You said voice shaking as you began to cry.

“I’m not toying with you” he said closing the gap again hand cupping your cheek. You turned away from him shaking your head.

“How can you want me? It’s a lie, some sort of spell?” You said before cursing softly.

“No spell, no lie, look at me” he said and you found yourself doing so. His red eyes bore into yours in the dim lit room, emotions swirling in them. You shook your head going to look away, but his hand went to your cheek and forced you to look at him. You let out a shaky breath before he kissed you again. You let out an odd noise, unknown to you, you didn’t push him away this time, instead your hands fisted against his chest. You had tears rolling down your face as he deepened the kiss before you needed to breathe. You made a small whine going to shake your head before he spoke.

“Do not shake your head at me again” he muttered and you sagged a bit.

“I desire you, I want you, I want to feel you against me” his words made shivers go up your spine, it would’ve been easy to believe him, to give in, let yourself be wanted, but your pain, your past held you to tightly. You side stepped out of his hold, tears down your face.

“Goodnight my lord” you said shakily and left.

“Goodnight little pup” he whispered.

Next part ->

Taglist:

I hope I got everyone lol

@worryknotdear

@curlycarley

@sleepy-time-dreamy

@violet-19999

@hexqueensupreme

@brainz00

@perseny

@queenofangrymoths

@aeryntheofficial

@scarlettwitcher

#astarion x reader #lord x servant #vampire #angst #slow burn #x reader #astarion #lord astarion

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sweetbutpsychobutsweet · 6 months

Text

Anger Translator

Chapter 3

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Thorin's stubborn pride threatens to derail your entire quest before you even reach the Lonely Mountain. Your frustration leads you to question why you were deceived into joining the company in the first place

Warnings: angst, no use of y/n, Thorin being Thorin

author's note: I'm down with a super nasty cold rn so I'm cranking these chapters out pretty fast this weekend. Thank you all so much for your support on the last few chapters.🙏

Word count: 1531

“We have a map we cannot read, Lord Elrond could help us!” Gandalf pleads.

“He’s right,” you agree. “If anyone will know how to read the map it’s Lord Elrond. I know he would be happy to help us.”

Thorin looks between the two of you with disgust.

“Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the elves looked on and did nothing! And you ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather, betrayed my father?”

“You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold onto the past.” Gandalf reminds him, but it only serves to anger Thorin further.

“I did not know that they were yours to keep.”

You roll your eyes in frustration at his stubbornness as Gandalf storms off in a huff.

“Everything all right?” you hear Bilbo ask, but you’ve already turned your attention back to Thorin, who is still sulking in the remnants of the farmhouse.

“I don’t expect you to be happy about it, but like it or not we are not going to make it very far on this quest without a little outside help.”

“I will not jeopardize this quest by letting these items fall into the hands of elves,” he spits.

“Fine,” you place your hands on your hips, “then what exactly is your plan? To journey all the way to the lonely mountain only to realize we still have no idea how to make it inside Erebor? You’ll have wasted our time and put our lives at risk for nothing, Thorin!”

“And what would you have me do?” he snaps. “Fall on my knees before an elven lord? Disgrace my father’s and grandfather’s legacy?”

You roll your eyes in exasperation, feeling the two of you starting to slip into an oh-so-familiar argument.

“You would not be disgracing anyone Thorin. Yes, it was kind of shitty of them to turn their backs on us like that, but can you blame them? Can you honestly tell me that if the roles were reversed, you would risk the life of a single dwarf to fight a battle that had nothing to do with our kind? If Smaug had attacked Rivendell instead of Erebor would you have offered help?” He remains silent but keeps his fierce gaze locked on you. “And I can assure you there will be no groveling or begging required. Lord Elrond is a friend of mine, he would be happy to help us for nothing in exchange.”

Thorin takes an abrupt step away from you, and you instantly realize that was probably information best kept to yourself for now.

“A friend?!” He scoffs and moves closer to tower over you. You force yourself to stay rooted in place. “I see now where your allegiances truly lie. Tell me was he a patron of yours? Did you entertain your friend with private performances?”

Your hand reaches up to make contact with his cheek with a sharp slap.

“How dare you! In case you’ve forgotten I am a dwarf as well Thorin.”

“Half dwarf, you mean.”

He knows how deeply those words wound you, but you refuse to let him see how they’ve hit their mark. You turn sharply on your heel and storm away before hot, angry tears can escape the dam behind your eyes.

You hear Thorin call your name but you ignore him as you allow your feet to carry you through the thick brush, letting yourself become lost in the woods.

It makes you so angry how easily his words can get to you like that, and he knows it too. Despite the years spent apart, you did grow up together, you’ve known each other your entire lives, and he knows exactly how to get under your skin.

After all, when the other lords and ladies of Erebor forbid their children to speak to you, and the other dwarves your age called you names and refused to let you play with them, Thorin was the one who would comfort you and wipe your tears away. Anyone who dared to utter the words ‘half breed’ would find themselves with a bloody nose or a broken limb. After a while, the two of you became inseparable. You were such close friends that not a soul in Erebor would dare to cast you so much as an unkind glance or risk the wrath of their young prince. He never cared about your parentage. As far as he was concerned you had just as much a right to call Erebor your home as anyone else.

Until Erebor belonged to no one. No one but Smaug. Leaving you with no home, no family, only Thorin.

But not long after that, Thorin was gone too.

You push deeper into the woods, determined to find a tree for your sword to take out all the pent-up frustration.

But rather than a tree you find a wizard.

Gandalf sits on a stump, pipe between his teeth, clearly needing just as much of a break from Thorin as you do. You should find comfort in the fact that your frustration is shared, but instead seeing him only adds fuel to your fire.

“You are on good terms with plenty of elves yourself,” you snap at him.

The wizard raises a brow in question and takes another deep inhale from the pipe.

“You could easily gain access to Elven libraries and seek help from Lord Elrond without me, so why force me to come along?”

He lets out a low laugh followed by a small cloud of smoke.

“Well you are quite right about all that my dear, but no matter how begrudgingly you may have joined the company no one is forcing you to be here. And do you really think that’s the only reason I wanted you here? To be an elven emissary?” he laughs and your brows furrow in confusion. “It’s true you will undoubtedly play a large role in helping us gain assistance from the elves, and I do not believe there to be another soul alive who has studied as much dragon-related literature as you have, but none of those are the true reason you are needed in this company.”

The gray wizard makes room on the large stump and motions for you to join him. You continue to let your confusion and annoyance show as you slump onto the spot next to him.

“Thorin Oakenshield will make an excellent king, that much is certain. He has already done tremendous work for your people and that is all without a crown, a throne, or even a kingdom.”

Despite your differences, you know he is right. Thorin is a great leader, although you would rather be burned alive than admit it aloud to anyone.

“But,” Gandalf continues, “No king is without flaws. And his stubborn pride will be the downfall of us all if it doesn’t change. He needs someone to keep him grounded, level headed. An equal that will tell him the truth even if no one else will. He needs you.”

You open your mouth but can’t seem to form any words. You simply blink up at the wizard in confusion.

“The others respect him as their king, and while a few may attempt to reason with him when he isn’t allowing himself to see clearly, they don’t interact with him in the same directness you do. You are not afraid of his anger, you don’t shy away from challenging him, and above all, he values your opinion. He respects you.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief and push yourself out of your seat to fully turn and face him.

“I don’t know what you have in that pipe, but whatever it is you’ve clearly been smoking far too much of it. Thorin does not respect me, he sees me as a burden. He left me to fend for myself when I needed him the most. I am not here to be his anger translator, I only agreed to come along so I could see my homeland restored once again and finally give my parents a proper burial. The second I have accomplished that I am leaving and never looking back. I intend to put as much distance as possible between Thorin and myself as I can for as long as we both shall live.”

Gandalf picks up his pipe again and fixes you with a stare that seems to say he doesn’t quite believe you. “Well then,” he says, rising to his feet. “It seems your mind has been made up.”

You cross your arms over your chest in confirmation.

“Have you informed Thorin of these plans, if I may ask?”

“Oh yes,” you scoff sarcastically, “because I run all my important decisions by him.”

The old wizard sighs in defeat.

“The sun will be rising soon,” he says, rising from his seat, “and I do believe our companions are about to be eaten by trolls. Perhaps it is best if we intervene.”

You follow after him with a nod, before the full statement clicks

“Wait! They’re what?!”

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@mrsdurin

#thorin x y/n #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader smut #thorin oakenshield smut #the hobbit #thorin oakenshieldx fem!reader #thorin oakenshield x afab!reader #thorin #thorin fic #thorin x reader #the hobbit fanfic #thorin x fem!reader #thorin oakenshield angst #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin smut #thorin angst #thorin oakenshield x reader angst #thorin x reader angst

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dxmoness · 1 month

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“Saintess?” The demon of a man before you coos as he comes closer. He seemed so innocent, his feigned innocence made your skin crawl.

His silken robes are splattered with blood, the same blood of your fellow saints. You couldn't even bear to look into his eyes. Estes stood there, watching you tremble like a leaf in the wind. A dark, wicked grin is on his face while his eyes are full on black with purple pupils.

What was once the sleeping king of the elves was now one possessed and controlled by the demons who have overwhelmed the temple's regions.

A step then another was made as he inched closer towards your shaking figure. Your hands are clasped together for you had been in prayer. And yet when he realized this, he only did so much as laugh.

“How adorable of you to think that the gods can hear you pray and give you help at a time like this...” He continues to step closer while he practically purrs those words. “Need not worry, my darling saintess. I’m not going to hurt you.” He finally reached you, leaning down so he can caress your soft supple skin.

You flinch when his fingers make contact with your skin, cringing with disgust. It took every bit of your willpower not to wrench his hand away from your face.

“W-What do you want from me?” You demand, trying to act tough and failing miserably in doing so. You're still trembling and your voice shakes as you speak. Not to mention, it was very faint and weak due to your fright.

He graces you with a laugh as he continues stroking your cheek, his index finger lifting your chin so that you could meet his fearsome gaze. “I want you.” His answer was so simple and so straightforward. It made you shudder.

Why so? Why you of all people? Sure, you were supposed to ascend to the position of high priestess when the time is right but now that this has occured that time will never happen. This made your heart sink but you remind yourself that the Moon Gods made this happen.

“Why?” You croak out, tears filling your eyes as you feel so scared and pressured to stay right here with him. But he gently wipes those tears away and stares at you with his eyes that filled with you with horror. Those eyes... They looked horrifying, yet strangely had some sort of comforting message in them.

He shakes his head and doesn't answer anymore. Instead he stands, stays there for a moment and then surprises you by dragging you by the hair.

You shriek in pain as your arms flail, trying to free yourself from his unhindered grip. A futile attempt. You find yourself being dragged to the body of the once high priest. His eyes are milky white as his corpse lay there, blood oozing clearly from the mark that travelled from his stomach to his neck.

Your eyes fill with tears once more, you can't bear to look anymore. You shut them tightly, trying not to cry but also trying not to vomit from the stench of blood and body fluids that fills the air.

“Look. The high priest is dead, your time has come to ascend.” Estes’ voice is void of any emotion as he pulls you back by the hair harshly. “I said look.” His voice made you shake your head as you begin sobbing uncontrollably.

“Look or I will make you.” This is his last warning. His voice implies it. You sniffle as your eyes fly open in fear of him doing worse than he already is. The combination of the gruesome sight of the high priest's dead body and the stench that emitted from it made bile start coming up from your stomach.

“Please...no more.” You beg him to not let you look any longer. He nods, satisfied by your obedience and drops you. Your body falls in between the dead, your feet and hands scrambling to get yourself up.

He stands by you, watching. As if he waits for you to do something that annoys or infuriates him. You don't say anything though which gains a rather satisfied smirk from him. His hand moves to grab your hair again, reeling you back so you can face him instead of the bodies around you.

“It will be like this from now on. You will obey my orders, and if you fail well...” He gestures to the bodies piled up around them. “I will drag you back here so you can reflect on your misdeeds.”

You sniffle as you nod, remaining silence for your own safety. He smiles eeriely as he motions you to follow him.

The sky is blood red outside and there are the audible cries of the moon elves fighting for victory against their opponents, the demons. The fight is failing. The king only smiles at that. You can only pray that it doesn't get worse than this.

➷ ( notes ) — no tags at the moment so I'll just give a little insight on this. I thought of making a fic about Estes falling into the hands of the demons and him being controlled by them, now being in the dark side instead of light. Thank you all for reading fully, if you did! If you'd like to be tagged via ask, comment or message. See you in the next fic, thank you for reading! ❀

➷ ( characters ) — estes, mobile legends. ❀

#{ ♡ heartstrings — fics }#mobile legends #mobile legends x reader #mlbb #mlbb x reader #estes x reader #mlbb estes x reader #tw: possession #tw: blood #tw: dark themes

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rissararity · 1 month

Text

Wrote a little fic inspired by this meme. Art is not mine!

Astarion/Half succubus bard oc. Cat calling, references to SA, comfort, friends to lovers, partners in crime, protective Astarion

Might eventually become a more put together fic, if it does it would be a slow burn friends to lovers

“Do we have any other takers? Any more bets? How about you, sir? Betting man?” the gorgeous bard beamed while she played a melody to raise anticipation on her lute.

“You know what? Sure.” The man tossed a couple gold into the pot.

The crowd cheered while Astarion gave a close lipped smile, eye fucking a couple of the women in the group.

A few more coins trickled in, clinking against the others.

“Now watch and be amazed as I throw this dagger, up to the second floor, it bounces handle side down off that, that then that,” he pointed to a couple of things, “and into the center of that barrel.” He announced with a flourish, parading around dramatically.

While he distracted the crowd, the bard cast a little spell to ensure he’d succeed. Astarion felt the power and confidence surge as her spell took effect, making a big show out of throwing the dagger.

While it flew through the air, Liv took the opportunity to pick a few pockets then make her way to the front before the trick shot was over.

As the blade hit home, the crowd was a mix of cheers and jeers.

“Aww better luck next time, friends!” She offered a supportive smile that hid the inward smirk she felt. She validated a few peoples feelings and casually got each of them to walk away.

The bard scooped up the gold while the rogue retrieved the dagger. They smiled at each other for a moment before quickly and discreetly leaving the area.

To an outsider they’d look like lovers exchanging a look. But they knew they were shit eating grins of victory, and they were in fact not lovers, but 200 gold richer.

Each.

As they reached the end of the alley, they waved to Gale, who stood with hid arms crossed. “Again? Really?” he glared, falling into step on Liv’s other side.

“Oh relax, you benefit from the spoils too. Most of this ends up going to potions and gifts for you.” The half elf snickered, purposely hip bumping him.

The wizard’s glare softened and he ducked his head. “I suppose that’s true. But if you two get caught, you’re on your own.”

The elves smirked at each other, “Somehow I think we’ll manage.” Astarion turned his ruby gaze to Gale who rolled his own.

The men grew uneasy while the trio walked by a group of men who began to whisper after them, staring at Liv in particular. The vampire could have torn their heads off with his bare hands for the disgusting way they spoke about her.

Gale glared back at them, putting an arm around her shoulders protectively. “Honestly, Liv, we can’t take you anywhere civilized.”

“I’d hardly call this place…much less those meat sacks civilized.” Astarion agreed, now wishing he’d been the one to grab her first.

“I’m not doing anything on purpose.” She muttered, dropping her chin.

“Boo hoo, it must be so hard being effortlessly gorgeous.” The vampire rolled his eyes.

“When I cant go anywhere alone without being hassled, propositioned or having wives threaten me for stealing their husband’s eyes-“ “And hearts.” Gale added.

“Right. A few of them did say that.” She pouted, “I know I can more than take care of myself but I get so…” she crossed her arms over her ample chest and shivered with a frown.

The group had noticed fairly early on she seemed fairly oblivious to the leers she got everywhere she went, and that when she no longer was, the attention made her extremely uncomfortable.

She could flirt her way out of trouble no problem but was easily flustered and nervous if a man just started commenting on her body. It made pit in her stomach that stayed until someone else from her party found her.

Even Shadowheart had played the role to make the men think they had no chance.

She sighed, “And Astarion,” he looked at her. “You sound jealous when you say stuff like that. You’re too pretty to be jealous.”

Gale smirked as the vampire’s jaw dropped for a moment, blinking in surprise “I…er..um..you’re absolutely right.” He pushed his hair from his face and shook out his shoulders, “You passed the test.”

Liv rolled her eyes while the wizard shook his head, a small smile on his lips.

Red eyes grew annoyed as he saw this, prompting him to cross his arms and pout, “I’ll meet you back at camp.” He strode of into the masses of people on the street.

The pair laughed, keeping their leisurely pace.

“He adores you, you know.” Gale told her once their laughs became little giggles.

Her cheeks grew dark, “No, he would have made a move by now if he did. We’re just good friends.”

He arched an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

She mimicked him, raising her own and dropping her voice, “Yes, that is so.”

The wizard made a face, “You’re too good at that.”

Wind whipped her long blonde hair around while carrying her laugh. “What can I say? I give a performance like no other.”

Liv yelped as a hand seized her elbow. “I bet you do, babe. Why don’t you come with me and give a private show?”

Her entire body froze as ice set in, eyes wide with fear as her legs stopped moving.

“I’m going to give you one chance to let go of the lady and be on your way.” Gale’s voice dripped with venom in a way she’d only ever heard in situations like this.

The barbarian sized him up then laughed, yanking her arm confidently, causing her to stumble closer. “Fuck off, mate. If you can’t defend your woman, don’t bring her outside.”

They couldnt go throwing magic in the middle of town, the creep knew that.

What he didn’t expect, was Gale to cast a hold person spell, locking him into place.

He then gently unfurled the man’s fingers from Liv’s arm and put a protective arm around her waist. “You need to learn some manners. Best hope we don’t ever meet in a battlefield.”

The man’s eyes burned with rage as Gale pressed a kiss to the still shocked bard’s temple and led them back into the crowd.

She pressed herself into her companion’s side all the way back to camp, trying to match his breathing the entire way.

No one knew what caused this reaction in her, but they had an idea. None dared broach the subject and figured talk if and when she wanted.

Normally in battle, she was fearless and thoughtful. But when confronted with someone like that barbarian she locked up.

When they returned to camp, Astarion had already thought up a snappy quip-the perfect amount of sting and sass.

Unfortunately, it died in his throat as soon as he looked over at them. One look and he knew.

Gale was softly rubbing her forearm, reassuring her while he led her to his tent.

The vampire frowned and exchanged a look with the wizard on the way. He immediately regretted his hasty exit earlier. He noticed pursuers were more easily deterred when she was with more than one man.

Astarion silently crept over to listen, able to hear their magic friend leading her through breathing exercises. When she’d calmed down, Gale finally left the tent to get some dinner.

He was about to stand only for Shadowheart to beat him to it, heading toward Gale’s tent to comfort the half elf.

Annoyed as he was, he knew for Liv’s sake that only one person could be with her at a time.

Much to his dismay, she stayed for an entire hour and a half.

He started to head over only to stop in his tracks when the tent door moved and Liv emerged, looking tired but otherwise okay other than her red cheeks and the fact that she used a spell to change her appearance to the one she preferred-the one that more clearly showed her half-drow ancestry.

Her skin kept its pink hue but her hair shortened to a pixie cut, blonde at the root morphing into silver tips that sat perfectly in place. Her blue eyes shifted to one bright blue and one silver. A ring sat in her septum above her lips that wore a coat of black paint, matching her winged eyeliner and eyeshadow.

Her pointed ears were dotted with two in her cartilage on both sides, and a silver ring on the lobe. She bore tattoos of solid black up her throat with flame-like tendrils licking at her jaw, a small flame adorning her forhead.

This was who she preferred to be. Who she felt the strongest, and most confident as. It was also her defense.

The others knew not to be surprised or comment on what she decided to look like that day. The long blonde look was always used for public performances; it had even earned her the title “The Angel” by word of mouth.

Astarion thought she was perfect both ways, but he knew the other men liked The Angel, while Shadowheart and Karlach shared his adoration of who he dubbed the demoness, the little devil, and simply the drow.

She hadn’t noticed him, and headed for her bedroll by the fire.

Astarion’s chest tightened as he realized he was too late to comfort her. If he hadn’t ditched her this probably wouldn’t have happened. They’d be sitting around the fire while she played her lute and told them legends and stories.

He should have stayed. This was his fault.

He should have stayed.

Jaw clenched, he thought, I’ll never abandon you again, my angel. You have my word I will remain close at hand.

What he couldn’t see, was her small smile as their tadpoles relayed the message in his voice.

In fact, he'd been so distracted that all his thoughts of guilt and protectiveness were made privy to the blonde.

He didn’t know it, but they grew closer that night without him ever speaking a word.

The following morning when they returned to the little town of Hodge to continue their search for information. Gale noticed Liv go out of her way to insure they passed by the same intersection from last night.

It was fairly early and the roads were fairly clear, blue sky above them.

As they neared it, Gale stepped forward and took her hand. To everyone’s surprise, she turned her blue and silver gaze to Astarion and held her other hand out to him.

Shadowheart pouted as the visibly confused vampire somewhat hesitantly took her hand and walked on her other side.

Liv squeezed both of their hands as they strode down the road like they owned it. When they got to the next street, she pressed a kiss to the back of Astarion’s hand and gave him a grateful look before letting go and repeating the gesture with Gale.

The vampire blinked in surprise as an odd fluttering feeling danced in his stomach, Gale’s cheeks darkened a little as he returned her smile.

He followed her blindly like they were magnetized, eyes wide as he tried to make heads or tails of this feeling.

Her still short hair shined like silver in the sun, contrasting the warm, sunny light from the blonde near her scalp. Even painted with dark makeup, she was breath taking-silver septum ring glinting back at him a top her confident smile.

Especially when she was exuding confidence like she now was, leading them through the streets to their first contact.

Her rapier carefully tucked into her overcoat, lute strapped to her back, she walked through intersection exuding joy once again.

Astarion’s maroon eyes stayed locked on her profile while he continued to remain at her side. Gale went to talk to Karlach, leaving the two side by side leading the group.

The vampire's eyes flicked down to her hand, yearning to hold it again; to feel her soft, dainty hands in his calloused but well manicured ones.

The butterflies in his stomach hadn’t quite settled down yet-he’d heard some young women gossiping recently and learned that’s what it was called.

Though if it meant what they insinuated it did he refused to believe that was what was happening to him.

He supposed Liv was pretty enough…oh who was he kidding? They didn’t call her The Angel for nothing. She was beauty incarnate, in both of her forms. Her movements were naturally elegant and graceful, her acrobatics during battle were unreal.

Everywhere she went an air of lavender and vanilla followed. You couldn’t be in a bad mood when she was around-he would know. He tried.

She was exactly what Cazador would have sent him after.

At that, he looked away from her shamefully. He didn’t deserve to walk beside her, figuratively or literally. His steps slowed so he could merge with the others but this stopped when her hand brushed the back of his – making his breath catch for a moment as sparks shot up his arm.

She caught his eye and winked, a small smile on her soft lips. “Walk with me, Astar.”

He was about to scold her for the nickname but for some reason from her he didn’t mind it.

“Gale holds your arm through town.” He murmured quietly as they walked.

Her cheeks darkened, “So he does.”

“It’s only fair-rr- I mean….proper.” He collected himself. “It’s only proper that a lady gets escorted.” He raised his chin, keeping his eyes ahead.

“Of course.”

“After all, you tend to get sidetracked and lost.”

“Sounds like me.”

“Hells forbid you see a cat!”

A little annoyed now, she glared, “Are you gonna do it or what?”

“Of course I am, don’t be stupid!” Came his rushed reply just before he almost aggressively looped arms with her like Gale often did.

Behind them, the entire team silently laughed. Gale crossed his arms over his chest, batting away Shadowheart to pretended to try and loop arms with him. He turned away from her and glared playfully before pushing her into Karlach who caught her then gave her arm a reassuring pat before going back to minding her business.

Astarion glared venomously at any one that looked at them too long, thankfully only a few people due to her still being in little demon form. He felt like her bodyguard, and as such had to be the scary dog that made outsiders keep their distance.

And unlike most bodyguards, he actually HAD bite.

Meanwhile, Liv was blissfully unaware of the mission he’d given himself, waltzing down the street casually.

When they arrived at their agreed upon meeting place, Liv wanted to go in alone but the entire group was quick to shut that down.

“Just in and out-it’ll be quick. Everyone leaves happy, no big deal.”

Astarion’s lips quirked up in a grin while he held his laughter, little sounds sneaking out. Karlach immediately began to belly laugh, drawing the attention of a few townspeople. Gale sighed and shook his head while the bard looked at him oddly.

“Sweet summer child.” He pressed a patronly kiss to her temple and hugged her cheek to his chest for a moment.

With knit brows, she let him hold her for a moment. “Anyway, any alternative plans then?”

“Well, you aren’t allowed to go anywhere alone so write that down.” The vampire rolled his eyes, missing her little smile.

“Our best bet here is to not arouse suspicion, and to appear as normal as possible to blend in. I think Liv and I should go in together, since we look the most like the locals." The wizard spoke up.

“Human, you mean?” Shadowheart asked, crossing her arms at the other half-elf.

“And not head to toe in armor. Not exactly common garb in these parts.”

She relented, “Liv and I could go. Two women won’t look odd and I’m sure she has an outfit I can borrow.”

Gale gave a snappy retort, angering the Cleric. They bickered over who was going in with Liv until Karlach physically turned their heads to show them Astarion had already whisked her away and toward little café, both in all their silver headed glory.

After casting an apologetic look over her shoulder, she spoke “You didn’t ask me to put on the angel.”

He paused, “I’ll never ask you to change, darling. However you feel best is how I want you.”

She squeezed his arm, smiling up at him while he avoided her gaze.

Luckily everything went according to plan for once and they got another lead.

Before they returned to their team, waiting in the distance in the town square, they decided to slip out the back door to see if they could make a few extra coins.

Liv put on the angel to aid in the con on her own accord, excitement in her stomach as she and Astarion approached a small group of people already with a game in progress.

---

“Where is she? I need to see her.” Astarion pushed past Shadowheart and headed toward Wyll’s tent.

“She’s going to live. Don’t interrupt her healing session. It’s…private.” She trailed after him, wishing Wyll hadn’t taken some personal time away so he could cast a hold spell.

Ordinarily Shadowheart was stronger than Astarion, but now he was in a protective rage, eyes blazing like a wildfire as he sought his little devil.

This fueled him to overpower her, tugging free of her grip and delivering a sharp shove that sent her on her ass, blinking in shock.

He entered the bubble of silence cast around Gale’s tent and froze as he recognized the sounds of lust and sex, as well as the all to familiar scents that went along with it.

His blood ran cold as he hid and peaked in. He knew what to expect but was still aghast when he saw Gale on top of Liv.

Liv’s nude body was dotted with scrapes and bruises from their last fight, her head lulled to the side, eyes half open. She didn’t react much to the wizards deliberate, confident thrusts, her breasts bounced in recoil to punctuate each one.

Gale bit his lip, brows knit as he began to speed up. Liv's shallow breaths along with a few gasps softly joined the other sounds.

Astarion felt rage like never before and had the biggest urge to reach straight through Gale’s back and pull out his still beating heart.

But he knew that was a bad idea.

Liv’s head turned to the other side and she accidently met the vampire’s eyes, her own going from half lidded to wide, cheeks ablaze.

Feeling much like a scorned lover, though not sure why, he silently sneered at her and left.

The following morning, the air was tense between the two troublemakers-Astarion and Liv.

Gale hadn’t noticed him, and she hadn’t told him.

She avoided her rogue as much as possible without drawing attention, seeking a distraction.

Otherwise back to her normal self, she pulled her violin from her bag of holding and began to play an upbeat jig, a smile on her face as she watched Karlach and Wyll prepare breakfast.

Gale and Shadowheart clapped in time with the music, smiling and enjoying the morning.

His eyes narrowed at Gale as he approached, considering how he could catch the wizard’s robe on fire, stopping short to watch the end of the song.

Liv hesitated a bit upon seeing him, but being the professional she is, she didn’t let it hiccup the song. Gale noticed the jovial mood in her eyes dulled, and used his tadpole to connect to the vampire -immediately realizing what had happened.

The bard finished the song with a flourish of her bow then bowed for the applause that came from everyone that didn’t drink blood.

Gale connected to Liv for a moment to see if she knew, appreciating that she told him the truth and didn’t make him search her memory.

I think it’s time to tell him, Angel. He’s the only one that doesn’t know and he’s clearly upset.

She sighed, I have to, now. We can’t keep going like this.

He gave a short nod, then made an excuse about wanting to show Liv how to feel the weave so they could both go into the woods together.

They were correct in assuming Astarion’s jealousy would have him tailing them.

Once they were away from camp, his body froze mid-step as Gale cast a hold person spell on him.

The pair turned around and headed over to him, ignoring the slew of curse words falling from his fangs.

“What in the hells do you think you’re doing?!” He growled at last.

“We need to talk- and by that I mean you need to listen. We can’t have you attacking Gale or running off before we explain.”

He glared at her, inwardly annoyed that the passing breeze carried over her lavender scent.

“I’m not sure what I saw other than the two of you acting like a couple of randy teenagers.”

Liv crossed her arms, nodding, “That’s exactly why you’re stuck right now.”

Gale’s lip quirked up for a moment at her flat tone before he spoke, “That’s all you saw? Are you absolutely sure there was nothing else of note?”

“Gale, darling, I’m not going to comment on the size of your staff if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

The wizard blinked in shock, blushing, “No! No that’s not what I meant.”

Standing slightly behind him, Liv giggled, cutting herself off when Astarian glared at her again.

“Think back. Really think-I’ll even help you.” She cast a focus spell on him while he huffed and closed his eyes.

His mind’s eye took him back Gale’s tent, his eyes glued to the scene before him. Liv looked exhausted from their last battle. Her body was scraped and bruised here and there and bags sat under her eyes.

Her baby blues lacked the spark they usually held.

The vampire knit his brows, growling at the other man. “Did you do something to her?”

Gale’s jaw dropped, Liv spoke up and vehemently denied it.

“It’s not like that either. I look right as rain today, right?” she gestured to her face- bright and clear as always.

He nodded.

“You know I’m a half elf, right?”

“Of course. Drow-correct?”

Liv smiled, happy he remembered that given her normal, warm and sunny appearance. “Right. Well…it turns out…the other half wasn’t human.”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed Liv is much more adept at magic than a normal bard…hells I’ve been trying to convince her to let me train her as a spellcaster…”

She rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, the other half…my father…was an incubus. So…I’m half elf half-“

“Succubus.” Astarion sneered, “It all makes sense now. The power you hold over others with the simple toss of your hair.”

They waited to see what he would say next, giving him a moment to think.

“That’s why you look so much better than you did…last night.”

She nodded, “I seem to have an odd mix of traits and abilities. My little demon appearance can’t be washed away by any manor of magic because it’s still real. When I take after my father, I become the angel. But my mother was the drow.”

“It doesn’t trigger my detect magic ability either.” Gale added, “Because of her half succubus nature, every week or so she needs to be…reset, or she gets sickly and weak.”

“That’s why she’s gotten so much stronger since the began traveling together.”

Liv blushed and shuffled her feet, “Look, I’m really not as smooth as I pretend to be-its an act.”

The vampire was quiet for a long while, “So when you say you cant sleep alone-“

The half elf gasped, “Not every night! God’s Astarion I’m not an animal! Gale told you…once a week. I try to hold out for as long as I can though…” she looked down, “I know it’s a big ask. More often than not I just need to cuddle.”

Gale patted her shoulder, a kind smile on his lips. “I assure you it’s no toil for us. I admit it can be difficult when you’re…in rough shape but knowing it’s the best way we can help you-“

“Mmmhm nothing to do with the fact that you get to have sex with her, I’m sure.” The vampire cut him off, winking when he was done.

The wizard’s warm brown eyes widened, cheeks darkening-it was certainly not a chore, but an honor.

Liv quirked an eyebrow at him, stifling a laugh and trying to force the corner of her mouth down.

Astarion relaxed as he watched her reaction to this. His jealousy faded as he realized for Gale, and hopefully Wyll, this was a friends with benefits situation, not a romantic relationship.

“Oh do let me go now. I’m listening.”

After a nod from Liv, Gale released the hold spell.

Astarion straightened himself and pushed his hair back, shaking off the stiffness. “The girls were already aware, I’m assuming?”

Liv nodded. “Unfortunately, my succubus healing only seems to kick in with men. I guess I need a…bridge to transfer.”

“You had sex with Shadowheart?”

Gale raised an eyebrow, “You tried to.”

“Well yes, but for a different reason. It’s not the same.”

“If anything, my reason is better than yours.” Liv glared.

He tilted his head, “Is it? Who’s to say? Besides, it only makes sense to gather as many…potential healers as possible and keep one on hand at all times. It was smart of you to try, since the two of you normally pair up when we split.”

Silence for a beat.

"Though I must tell you, I thought we were closer than this, little angel.” He turned to her. “Why was I the only one left unaware of your…condition? Did you not want my…” he gestured to his body, “help.”

Gale turned to her, too, curious.

The bard blushed, keeping her eyes on the ground. “We've always been great friends and I didn’t want to risk making it weird.”

“So you didn’t think it weird to proposition your companions weekly to steal their energy when they orgasm?”

Silence.

“It's really not bad. One sip of a health potion and you're back to rights.” Gale defended her.

“Alright, well,” he approached Liv, who shyly looked up. “This doesn’t change anything between us, darling, not if you don’t want it to.” He tilted her chin with one finger. “But if you decide you do, I assure you I’m more than capable of not treating you any differently if we slept together; dearest friend of mine.”

Her cheeks blazed, lips parting in shock. Gale rolled his eyes and looked away while the two had a moment.

He knew his friendship with Liv was clearly different than whatever it was she had with Astarion, so hearing her admit that hadn’t stung like one might expect. It was no secret the two had more in common, more laughs and a knack for getting in and out of trouble.

Gale, as well as Wyll, knew what this was.

Giving the half elf a wink, Astarion turned around and headed back toward camp.

She didn't ask for his help yet, but he hoped she would.

And when she did he would be whatever she wanted him to be; a simple friend with benefits due to a caring heart and sense of obligation or...maybe...

Well he wasn't sure but he was looking forward to her helping him find that out.

#astarion #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 memes #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bandurs gate 3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #bg3 fanfic #dom astarion #protective astarion #astarion is baby girl #astarion is a cat

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prismaticpichu · 1 month

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Zack: …You know what, Sephiroth? You are right. These books are right. Genesis was right.

Zack: You are a monster.

(Zack takes a step forward, across the massacre of books on the floor, and places a delicate hand on his friend’s shoulder)

Zack: And you are a good one.

(Sephiroth stares at the boy for several beats, doesn’t say a word. Furrows his brow at the oxymoron and tries to make sense of it)

Sephiroth: Good… There is no such thing as a good monster.

(The word leaves in a sharp, bitter hiss, drenched in venom and defense)

(Zack is undeterred)

Zack: Sure there is. There’s plenty.

(Sephiroth shakes him off)

Sephiroth: Heh.

(Zack catches his footing, doesn’t miss a beat)

Zack: It’s true! Fairies, elves, mermaids… Those ain’t evil, are they?

Sephiroth: Those are not monsters.

Zack: Well they sure as heck ain’t human!

(Sephiroth’s mouth parts in protest, breath heavy and whetted… but no retort comes out. No venom is spewed; no jagged remark is made. He doesn’t speak—not for some nebulous amount of time, as if asphyxiated by the thickened air around them. And when he does speak again, his head dips, turns away, and his voice whittles down into a slow, saddened mumble)

Sephiroth: …And neither am I.

(Something in Zack’s soul breaks)

Zack: …No. Seph. Maybe not. Maybe you aren’t. Maybe you do have some ancient creature’s blood in you. Maybe you are a monster.

(His voice softens, dips, a glimmer of something wet in his eyes)

Zack: But you aren’t… aren’t a bad one, pal. If you are a monster, you’re the good kind. The best kind….

Sephiroth (head still dipped): …There’s no such thing.

Zack: Yes there is, Seph. You have to believe me. Take, I dunno… I dunno—unicorns! They aren’t horses; they aren’t normal. I don’t know what the hell they are. But just because they’re different doesn’t mean they’re bad… does it now?

(There’s a long, heavy stretch of silence)

Sephiroth: Are you insinuating that I am… like a unicorn?

(A flutter in Zack’s heart, knowing his words are beginning to break through the veil)

Zack: You bet I am! And, well… are unicorns evil? Are they disgusting? Do they not have gentle, kind hearts and risk everything to protect their friends even when they betrayed them…?

(Sephiroth lifts his chin then, silent, digesting the boy’s earnest words… absorbing their depth and meaning and the weight of their absurdity. And it’s at that moment that the faintest trace of a smile plays on his lips. The first smile in nearly 6 days.)

Sephiroth: …No. They do.

(And for the first time in nearly 6 days, Zack smiles as well)

Zack (blinking back a tear): … There’s my buddy.

(The book in Sephiroth’s hands falls to the floor as Zack enfolds his aching friend in an embrace, and sinks into his friend’s arms in relief as Sephiroth hugs him back)

#sephiroth #ffvii #zack fair #crisis core #ff7 #floof #nibelheim #late night floof #ff7 rebirth #was thinking about the technical definition of a monster and here we are!

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namiusedbubble · 1 year

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SFW Alphabet - Ominis Gaunt

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

In private, he can be very affectionate, but in public? Not so much. He prefers to keep things to arm-holding and the occasional kisses on the cheek when around other people.

B = Broom (Are they good at flying? Do they play Quidditch?)

I think Ominis manages to enchant his broom to something similar to floo powder. It can get him from point A to B without him having to worry about it, sort of like a self-driving car but in broom form. He can’t play quidditch or figure out what’s going on below or around him, but it allowed him to participate in flying class with the rest of his house and he can get to and from Feldcroft whenever he wants.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He’s a big fan of lying down cuddles. Just the two of you tangled together on top of or under the sheets, your head on his chest while he presses his lips to the palm of your hand, occasionally dozing off with you. These are the moments he cherishes the most.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Ominis would love to settle down with you somewhere far away from his family. As soon as you two begin courting, he’s already planning for you two to live together. He’s not the best at domestic work, his family always had House-elves, but he’s more than willing to learn as much as he can.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

There are two reasons I can see him breaking up with you: You have done something that he finds morally unforgivable. In this case, he’ll be cold and angry as he breaks up with you, and he’ll make it very clear why he has come to the decision to end things with you and how disgusted and upset he is that you’ve put him in this situation.

The second is to protect you from his family. He’ll try to convince you that it’s in your best interest to end things, but since he doesn’t want to end things with you, it will be easy for you to convince him otherwise.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Ominis is excited to commit to you. Not only because he loves you and wants to spend the rest of your lives together, but because it will make his new family with you official. I can see him shunning tradition and taking your surname, or if you don’t want that, he will want to create a new one all your own.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s very gentle, but only with you. While he knows you’re no delicate flower, he still never wants to be the cause of your pain or discomfort so he’ll be soft with you in most situations.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He’s not much of a dedicated hugger. He prefers other forms of cuddling and affection, but they do happen. During emotionally intimate moments or if he knows you really need one, he’ll wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. Since he’s rather tall, you sometimes have to stand on your tiptoes to hug him back, but he also has no problem supporting your weight.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He knows he loves you fairly early on in your relationship, but it takes him a long time to actually say those words to you. Nobody has ever said them to him before, so he’s a bit hesitant. He doesn’t know when it’s appropriate or how he should go about it, and the “perfect” moment he’s always imagined telling you never really happens. If you tell him first, all bets are off and he’ll never stop reminding you that he loves you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Hardly ever. He’s just not that type of person. He trusts you 100% or else he wouldn’t be with you. When he finds out someone else has feelings for you or plans to make a move, Ominis feels smug rather than jealous because you chose him, not anyone else.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

During the day, when neither of you can find time alone, he’ll give you chaste kisses on the lips or on the cheek, but when you’re alone, his kisses are soft and full of love. He’s not averse to the odd makeout session, but he prefers kisses that show you how much he cares about you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Awkward at first. He doesn’t really know how to treat children since he never had a lot of positive role models, and they put him a bit on edge when they’re screaming at nothing and he can’t see what’s happening.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Ominis wakes up early and likes to get on with his day. He’ll spend a few minutes admiring your peaceful, sleeping face, press a chaste kiss to your cheek, and then he’s up to make you both a cup of tea and maybe run some errands.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Ominis occasionally has nightmares. It’s not every night, and most of the time you won’t even know he’s having them because he doesn’t want to burden you, but every now and again you’ll feel him hold you just that bit closer, or you’ll hear a barely audible sniffle or a gasp. He usually doesn’t want to talk about it, but he’d really appreciate it if you could run your fingers through his hair or down his back to soothe him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’ll tell you everything bit by bit, over a long period of time. He doesn’t really know how to go about telling you what happened to him. He’s worried you’ll view him differently when you find out what he did to those muggles, he’s worried you’ll think his family is too much and he’s not worth putting up with them, he’s worried you’ll find him pathetic when you learn of his night terrors.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He doesn’t have much patience for stupidity, but he prefers to attack that sort of behaviour with sarcasm and snark. When he’s really angry, he has a difficult time controlling his own behaviour and he’ll shout and pace around the room and threaten consequences for whoever managed to piss him off. He hasn’t acted this way with you since you first began courting. In fact, you’re pretty much the only one who can talk him down.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers almost everything about you. Every morning he’ll make a cup of tea exactly how you like it, he’ll bring you your favourite flowers in all of the colours you love, and he’ll never forget important dates.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

The day he introduced you to the Deathday Ballroom. You’d been enraptured by the ghosts and their romantic drama, and you two had spent what seemed like hours laughing together and jokingly speculating about what their lives might have been like before they’d died. Eventually, he worked up the courage to ask you to dance with him, and of course, you accepted.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very, to the point it can sometimes seem controlling. He’ll argue with you about fighting poachers, going to the Forbidden Forest, and he’ll die before he ever lets his family near you. It’s not that he likes telling you what to do, it’s just that he likes having you alive and unharmed. He won’t do anything if you ignore him, but if you get injured, expect an “I told you so” while he looks after you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He’ll put a lot of effort into everything with you, but don’t expect any flashy gestures or frivolously expensive gifts. He likes to go places more private to just spend time with you, and he appreciates gifts that have specific meaning to you rather than just buying things for the sake of it. He will do those things if it makes you happy, but he’d prefer the former.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Ominis is very snarky and sarcastic. Most of the time you find it funny, but sometimes, when you’re feeling particularly sensitive, it can feel a bit hurtful. He’ll try to dial it back on those days, but he can’t turn it off.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He isn’t vain, but he does care about how he looks. He likes to look presentable and proper with his hair perfectly in place and his uniform neat and tidy. He is definitely the most fashionable of the guys when not in uniform, too. It’s not that he really cares how he looks, since he can’t see himself, but he doesn’t want anyone else to think he’s incapable of taking care of his appearance just because he’s blind.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes, and that’s why he tries to hard to keep you from willingly waltzing into danger. You’re his family, the person he wants to marry, and he’d be lost without you in his life now that you’ve embedded yourself in it.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

This boy is thoroughly whipped for you. You could convince him to follow you to the ends of the Earth if you wanted him to, and he’d do it with only minor snark along the way.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

People who look down on others for any reason. Blood status, family, Hogwarts house, disability, etc. It doesn’t matter, Ominis doesn’t like people who think they’re above others.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He can fall asleep literally anywhere at any time, but he prefers going to bed earlier than you. Background noise like your listening to music in the other room, speaking softly to your beasts, and the scratching of quill against parchment, they all serve to relax him and help him drift off.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagines #hogwarts legacy headcanon #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader

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