#bard fanfic

[cosmic-glow]

Notes: Invited to spend Halloween night (Samhain) with Bard, he didn't expect it would end with a declaration.

Warnings: Bard x fem!reader; reader gets along well with children; mention of burning; SFW.

It was Samhain day, if it weren't for Bard's invitation you would be in your house eating all the good things your salary allowed you to buy, which wasn't much. But luckily for you, you were now together with the children trying to cut the pumpkins to make lanterns, the task being more difficult than you imagined and making everyone laugh. You were too focused on trying to draw a smile on the pumpkin to notice Bard looking at you with a discreet smile on his face. The children adored you, and the feeling was reciprocal because even if they weren't your children you would die for them. You knew that life in Lake City wasn't easy, every day you woke up early to work and got home late at night, but even so you were kind to the children, never taking away their hopes of having a better life one day. And with each passing day, Bard's admiration for you grew.

- Okay, everyone finished? On three, everyone shows how it turned out... 1..2..3!

At the same time, the children who were sitting in a circle around you turned the pumpkins with you and the room was filled with laughter once again when they saw the result of the lanterns. Some had missing teeth, one eye bigger than the other and crooked smiles, it was a disaster and that's why they were perfect. When they managed to recover from the laughing fit, you turned to Bard, your cheeks still red from laughing so much.

- Can you get us some candles, Bard? We have to put up these lanterns to ward off the spirits before nightfall - you joked placing your pumpkin in front of your face, a crooked smile and cross-eyed eyes staring back at him.

- I think you outdid yourselves this year, this will be the most protected house in the city during the night of Samhain - he laughed - I'll be right back with the candles.

As promised, Bard didn't take long to return with the candles and handed one each and you a matchbox. You promptly placed the candle at the bottom of the pumpkin and lit the match to light the candle, teaching the children, but when you held the match at an angle in the small space to light the wick, the flame grew and burned the tip of your finger. The response was automatic, pulling your hand away and letting out an "Ouch!" before extinguishing the match. Hearing, Bard turned and walked over to you when he saw what had happened.

- Are you fine? Let me see - he carefully took your hand and checked the burn - Luckily it's nothing serious, wash it with water and bandage it, help her Sigrid, I'll turn on the flashlights - he smiled to calm you down.

When the lanterns were lit and placed in the windows and you had already wrapped your finger in a piece of cloth, you went with the girls to the kitchen to finish preparing the Samhain feast, with sweet breads, cakes and other treats. Bain wasn't there because he's a disaster in the kitchen. Taking advantage of the privacy of being alone with his father in the living room, Bain broached the subject.

- You like her, right?

- Who? - Bard asked, suddenly caught.

- Her, dad - the boy pointed discreetly to the kitchen - I noticed how you look at her.

- Y/n? No, the only woman I've ever loved was your mother and you know it - he sat back in his chair to get away from the subject.

- It's okay if you like her, dad. She's cool, Sigrid and Tilda like her too... And if she makes you happy you have to tell her soon, it's not like you're the only suitor.

- What? - Bard frowned.

But before his son could say anything else, Tilda entered the room to call them to dinner. You thanked, ate and laughed amid conversations, Bain's advice not leaving the archer's head throughout dinner. After they were done and everything was cleaned and put away, you helped Bard put the children to sleep by telling them stories. When they fell asleep and you turned out the candles in the room, the two of you left. The silence seemed thicker, which found you strange, the atmosphere between you didn't used to be like this. You absentmindedly looked out the window.

- The sky is beautiful today... You can see all the stars.

- Do you want to go out to see better?

- I’d love to - you smiled.

The wind outside was cold, the night was calm and silent, the clear dark sky filled with stars like thousands of fireflies, the sound of crickets in the distance. You sat on the steps of the house stairs and Bard sat next to you. He remained silent for a while, thinking about how to tell what was weighing on his mind. It was true that you were the only one in the city that Bard considered a true friend, that he felt comfortable around and could forget about his problems for a moment when you smiled. Deep down he knew he liked you, but he felt guilty about it, he shouldn't fall in love again, he had already gotten married and he had sworn to himself that he would never get married again after he lost his wife, he couldn't handle feeling the pain again. Besides, now he had children to raise, what woman would have a relationship with a man who is already the father of three children? But you didn't seem to care about any of that, you took care of the children and always helped him, they loved you and now he did too. The man called your name breaking you out of your trance.

- There's something I need to tell you.

- You can talk, Bard.

- I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for the children, for our friendship, it's good to have someone to trust.

- I think I was the one who should be saying that, inviting me to spend the night with you and the children, helping me when I needed it most, I'm happy that you consider me so much - you smiled.

- I don't know how to say this, but - he adjusted his posture, nervously - the children like you so much and so do I that I would like to know if you don't want to... stay with us forever? - you blinked your eyes at him.

- Like what...?

- I would love for you to be my wife, Y/n - he found the courage to say - I understand if you don't want to, if you think it's too much responsibility because of the children or - you silenced him by sealing your lips with a kiss that surprised him , but he soon reciprocated, the desire warming you both on that cold night.

- You don't know how many times I dreamed about this - you smiled at him.

Bard also smiled, after all, since you met, your smile always made him feel better.

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

October Calendar;

Masterlist

#bard x reader #bard x fem!reader #bard oneshot #bard imagine #bard drabble #bard headcanons #bard hobbit #bard fanfic #hobbit fanfic #hobbit oneshot #hobbit imagine #hobbit x reader #lotr x reader #lotr fanfic #lotr oneshot

[queeniesrose]

Happy New Year's y'all. Hope you all are having a good day! Each one will be NSFW and a part of the Modern AU series! I will also be having each character's drabble in its own post! 

Master Post

Warning: This is NSFW so if you’re under the legal age or uncomfortable with content like this, please skip over this one!

New Years - Middle Earth

Bard: Ask nicely. No, thank you. I tried.

Bard had decided to change it up and take you to Vegas for New Years. Take you to see the fireworks and experience the strip. You were hanging out in your hotel room as you waited for the new year to arrive. You didn’t have much on your mind other than wanting to fuck your partner. You look over at Bard from your spot on the bed, contemplating how you wanted to tell him what you wanted. “Bard, lovely?” You say, causing him to look up at you, with a questioning look. “Fuck me. Fuck me, now.”

The corners of his mouth twitch up at your demand. Standing up, he shrugs off his jacket, before taking off his shirt. He slowly unzips his pants, “So you want to fuck. Why don’t you.. Ask nicely?” He asks, dropping his pants. “If you ask nicely, I’ll fuck you” He drops his voice lower as he says that. 

A laugh rips out of you at his request. Getting up onto your knees, you move to the edge of the bed. Giving him a sort of crazy smile. “Nice? You want me to ask nicely, Bard?” You ask, reaching out and grabbing him by the crotch. “No. Thank you. Now, are you gonna fuck me or not?”

Bard shakes his head, pushing you back onto the bed, he nips at your neck. He leaves a few marks on your neck. “I.. I tried.” He says, taking off the last articles of clothing that both of you were wearing. “And to answer your question, yes I am going fuck you.”

#The Hobbit #Lord of the Rings #LOTR #Middle Earth #Middle Earth x Reader #Tolkien Universe #Reader #Reader Insert #X Reader #Spicy Queenie #Bard x Reader #Bard #Middle Earth Bard #Reader x Bard #Bard Fic #Bard Fanfic #Middle Earth Bard x Reader #Queenie's Modern Middle Earth

[mylittleredgirl]

the thing about cracking open a long-established popular ship tag on ao3 is that it allows you to be extraordinarily picky, and i think it must be the closest thing i will ever experience to being filthy rich. i scroll along at super speed like no today i am only interested in fics with this precise range of words and one of these three tags. only authors i’ve heard of, please. hmm, i suppose i could consider an unknown quantity given its apparent popularity with the people, but… no, no, this summary doesn’t do it for me. no particular reason, it’s just… eh, i don’t need to explain myself. bring me 50 more like this for me to choose from and we’ll see.

#the modern day evolution of the dicks doth touch bard is a harried personal shopper #on fanfic #anyway i’m like 20 pages deep into the sam/jack tag by kudos and continuing to live my best life #i can’t even imagine how picky some of y’all get to be #ao3

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Daybreak Ballads

NSFW || Astarion x fem!bard!Tav/reader || ao3 || masterlist

Rating: E, +18 Word Count: +3.5k Warnings: Smut. Orgasm delay. Soft dom!Astarion. Oral+fingering (fem!receiving). PiV sex. Praise kink?

And yet, Astarion did have an undeniably keen eye for beauty and dramatics alike. If he only put a little more of himself into his work, you were convinced people would adore his poetry. He only had to find his intended audience because one thing was clear: as much as you loved Astarion, his poetry simply wasn’t for you. At all.

a/n: This has been in the works for ages and when I wasn't pulling out my own hair over this, it was quite fun to write, I suppose. Special thanks to @tragedybunny , @bardic-inspo and @littlejuicebox for emotional support. The masterful poem at the end has been handmade for Gina. With love. By the pale elf himself.

You’d never said you disliked Astarion’s poetry, let alone that it was bad. When the pale elf had asked for your expert opinion on his poetic endeavours, you’d just assumed it was honesty he’d wanted. So honesty was what you’d given him. 

The form of his poem looked messy, unappealing even; its rhythm was off, contorted by wordy lines that lacked any pleasant flow. Astarion’s motifs were obvious at best and trite at worst, and his rhymes were, well, creative, you supposed. But most of all, Astarion’s pieces left wanting for personality. Where was his wit? His snark? His passion? Where was all the fun?

Try as you might, you just couldn’t see yourself performing Astarion’s ballad—at least that’s what you assumed he’d attempted to write—for your regular audience, not with your flute nor your lyre. It just felt wrong to translate his words into song, forced. You didn’t even need to take a closer look to recognize his work as haphazard, dull, and, worst of all, inauthentic.

And yet, Astarion did have an undeniably keen eye for beauty and dramatics alike. If he only put a little more of himself into his work, you were convinced people would adore his poetry. He only had to find his intended audience because one thing was clear: as much as you loved Astarion, his poetry simply wasn’t for you. At all. That, too, you’d told him. 

To your surprise, Astarion had taken your admittedly harsh review of his work with uncharacteristic grace—suspiciously so, in hindsight, at least. After all, the vampire could be quite…sensitive. That night, though, he’d just nodded along to your blunt words, an almost arrogant smirk tugging at his lips, promising you to compose a piece to your liking one day.

Just for you, Astarion had said with a wink as he’d retrieved his poetry from your hands, the dying campfire reflecting in the ink of his elegant handwriting. Crimson eyes sparkling with mischief as they’d wandered over your body. His tongue had slowly wet his sensuous lips as if in anticipation of...what? 

Just wait and see, darling…

If your brain hadn’t been all clouded by lust earlier tonight, you would’ve noticed that Astarion had been up to something. He’d been throwing you suggestive looks all evening, purring sweet nothings in your ear whenever he’d gotten you alone. Surprised you in your tent when your companions had been sound asleep, the campfire burned low. His hand had practically been glued to the small of your back as he’d guided you to a most charming little clearing, not unlike the one in which you’d first slept with him all those weeks ago. 

That Astarion had kept calling this idyllic, moonlit spot his perfect motif had somehow eluded you as you’d been too preoccupied with the telltale heat gathering between your legs. In fact, you’d followed the vampire like an eager little pup, already wound tight around his little finger. The promise of Astarion’s inviting touches and lingering kisses had lured you right into his honey trap—and how bittersweet it was.

Now, shivering from painfully drawn-out desire and cold morning dew settling on your skin, you could feel that cursed smirk brush against your dripping wet core again—a silent warning. 

Oh, fuck. 

Astarion’s lips closed around your almost painfully swollen clit, sucking at it leisurely as his lower arm pinned your hips against the cold earth as if you were but a sheet of paper threatening to take flight with the next gust of wind. Another gasp echoed from the trees as your left hand clawed at the damp grass underneath you, looking for support but finding little. Your other hand grasped at silver curls with as much success. 

Astarion was rather enjoying himself as your body squirmed under his sinful mouth, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your thigh as he adjusted your trembling leg over his shoulder, opening you up even more for his thorough ministrations. You tossed your head back at the gentle but intoxicating shift of position. His name was stuck in the back of your throat, suffocated by shaky moans as the tip of his tongue brought you ever closer to the edge of release. 

Feeling the coil in your lower belly tighten, your toes curled against the raised scar tissue on Astarion’s back, eliciting but an amused sigh from him before his lips released your wanting nub with one last lingering caress of his tongue. 

You wanted to cry; this was the second time he’d left you hanging somewhere between bliss and frustration.

Shaking from pent-up pleasure, your elbow threatened to slip on the wet grass as you sat up as much as the weight of Astarion’s arm allowed. Through the evaporating clouds of your laboured breath you only just caught a glimpse of Astarion’s crimson eyes gazing up at you from between your thighs; he was all messy curls and unfairly thick eyelashes. Smug smirks turned wicked. 

You swallowed.

“Astarion…” you breathed, not knowing if it was a warning or plea, but before the syllables had faded into the fleeting night, his attention had returned to your cunt once more. The tip of Astarion’s nose grazed your clit. You could feel his cold breath against your burning folds, feeling no different than the gentle breeze of dawn tickling your exposed skin. There was no gentle sensation snaking up your spine when Astarion licked down your slit ever so slowly, and for the first time that night, you truly registered how far you really were from camp. You let out a blissful cry, knowing there was not a soul to hear you but the elf feasting on your cunt. 

The weight from Astarion’s arm shifted from your hips down your side. His hand wandered along your curves, groping the swell of your ass before it wound itself back up your inner thigh. He pushed your legs further apart, opening you up impossibly wide. You let out an excited squeal you would be embarrassed for by morning, but not now, no. For the better part of the night, you’d been a whining, trembling mess under your lover—always painfully close to release and yet no part of Astarion had filled you as of yet. But maybe he’d had enough now. Maybe he would finally deign to push you over the edge, with his fingers or his cock, you didn’t really care anymore as long as he finally let you come undone.

And, indeed, Astarion’s fingers inched closer to your core, though all they did was trace the course of your pulsing femoral artery he could no doubt sense underneath your heated skin. You relaxed a little under his sweet little caresses and wondered dully if he would soon exchange the fruits of your cunt for proper nourishment.

He didn’t. At least not yet.

Without warning, the tip of Astarion’s tongue teased your entrance, driving you wild. Your hips instantly bucked against Astarion’s face as your hand clenched around a fistful of his soft hair. Finally! This was divine, this was— 

Astarion withdrew from you in an instant, ignoring the undignified whine of protest escaping your lips—fuck, you’d been so close! By the self-satisfied look on his face, though, he was well aware of that. For a moment, he studied the heavy rise and fall of your flushed chest, his chin resting right below your navel as you lay beneath him, dumbstruck. His pointer finger still ghosted up and down the inside of your leg, the lazy movement a stark contrast to the blood racing through your veins. 

“Oh, darling, look what you’ve done…” Astarion pouted, his sensuous lips moist with your arousal. “You’ve ruined my rhythm.”

His fingers slowly wandered down, down, down your leg and curled around your ankle before he gently let it glide off his shoulder. With an outrageous nonchalance, he sat back on his knees and considered you. Crimson eyes darted over your feverish skin that glistened with sweat and morning dew. They trailed from your parted lips down your collarbone, through the valley of your breast, until they beheld the mess between your legs with blatant amusement. How you wanted to wipe the stupid smirk off his face; how you wanted him to finally take you.

Behind Astarion’s broad shoulders, you could see the sunrise in the distance; a gentle purple bled into the indigo of night right above the treeline. Day would break soon, but you didn’t have it in you to appreciate twilight when, suddenly, Astarion’s arms came down on each side of your head, eclipsing the waking world around you.

His hips settled against your core as he crawled atop you, habitually making you arch your back against his own growing desire pressing into your belly.

“But don’t you worry,” Astarion purred, clearly delighted as he lowered himself onto you until the silken tip of his nose brushed against yours. “Your body is a well of inspiration to me, my little muse…”

Astarion closed the small distance between you with a heady kiss; your mind went blank as you tasted yourself on his lips, the warmed tongue demanding access to you once more. You opened your mouth to him readily, moaned into the kiss as Astarion’s hands wandered up and down the curves of your body. Your head spun. Nobody—nothing—else could ever make you feel like this, and you cursed yourself when you had to break away from him to fill your inconvenient lungs with air. 

Spit and slick weaved like cobwebs between your parted lips as you beheld Astarion with dazed eyes, breathing hard.

He was perfect. 

From the fading light of the moon reflecting in his serene locks to his kiss-swollen lips that were a sharp instrument of the sweetest temptation. That smirk that promised unforgettable ecstasy, granting it only whenever he wanted. There was no song nor poem you could compose that could ever do Astarion justice, no instrument to capture the intricacies of his soul. He was a masterpiece.

Drunk on his lips, you leaned forward as his fingers continued to run down your middle, along the curve of your ass before taking hold of your thigh again. Your tired legs twitched to wind around Astarion’s hips, wanting to pull him closer to where you needed him most. 

But before you could even move an inch, you found yourself lying flat on your stomach.

Astarion’s arm wound around your waist from behind, roughly pulling your ass up against his lean middle before you could so much as gasp in surprise. Wet grass tickled your cheek as you tried to find your balance, take a puzzled look back at him, but you could only feel him bend over you again, his erection poking your lower back. 

Astarion’s kiss-warmed lips ghosted over your ear, “Now that you’re in proper form, let’s write some poetry, shall we?”

What?

He tossed your messy braid over your shoulder, pressed a wet kiss to the exposed nape of your neck as your knees struggled for support on slippery morning dew. 

“You’ll sing some more for me, won’t you, little songstress?” Astarion breathed against your spine. “I’m sure you’ll make a real show of my newest piece.” 

It took you a moment to process his words. Maybe it was the pebble cutting into the palm of your hand or the day’s first birdsong reaching your ear that lifted the fog in your head, but it finally hit you.

Astarion hadn’t brought you here for a tryst in the dirt, no. You were here because he was writing poetry. Except, this time, you weren’t his critic, but his choice medium. Which could only mean one thing: He rather had taken your criticism of his artistic endeavours to heart, and now you would have to pay the price for your honesty.

“Astarion…” you breathed, quick words of appeasement lost in a moan as he started to grind against you. Suddenly, daybreak felt like an eternity away. 

“Yes, darling?” He asked, the perverse amusement evident in his voice. “How do you like my work so far? Is it to your refined taste this time?” 

Curse the damn elf. You knew what he wanted, what he’d craved all along. What he’d expected from you the moment he’d shared his work with you. And as if you weren’t in a most precarious position already, he really wanted you to say it—praise him and his stupid poetry when he knew how badly your body was aching for him.

Clenching your teeth, you slowly rolled your hips up against his now rock-hard cock. Maybe, if you just got him to fuck you already, you would get away with your pride intact. All of this was embarrassing enough as it was.

Your efforts were repaid with little more than a chuckle, though—and two fingers that started teasing your entrance, carefully dipping into you without even slightly dampening your need.

“Fuck!” You whined into the grass as your hips chased Astarion’s digits, wishing they were his cock instead, filling you as you’d so lusted after all night long.

“What was that?”

Astarion’s movement stopped at once, leaving you empty once again.

“It’s good,” you hissed against the wet ground as tears of frustration threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes. “Your poetry—Astarion, it’s so good, I swear.” 

So much for pride.

“Oh, you think so, little nightingale?” 

You nodded frantically as he bent over you again, nibbling at the shell of your sensitive pointy ear. Astarion chuckled.

“Don’t get me wrong, this means so much coming from an expert artist such as yourself, darling, but I can’t help but wonder whether this is a professional opinion or empty flattery for the sake of indulgence…”  

You could feel his fingers ghost over your clit, knowing he would never touch you without a satisfying answer.

“It’s true—nobody does it quite like you,” you cried, not bothering to specify whether you meant his poetry or his more distinctive talents, and it didn’t really matter. 

Throughout your career, you’d gone looking for inspiration in quite a few beds but never had you written better poetry than in your rather short time together with the pale elf. Astarion was unlike any lover you’d ever taken, nor had you ever cared this deeply for another person whatsoever. 

“Nothing compares to you, Astarion,” you whispered, truthfully. 

“Ah,” Astarion’s fingers slid back into you the moment the words had left your mouth, curling deliciously against your walls—a reward for your generous recognition of his talents, no question. “But I’m sure there’s room for improvement still?”  

Hips moving up against his digits, chasing the sweet friction of his cold skin, you groaned. Fine. If he wanted a damn lesson in poetry, he could have one.

“There always is. What’s the point of art when there’s no growth—ah!”

There was a lewd sound as Astarion pulled his fingers from your core once again, though this time you could feel his body shift behind you. The two fingers that had worked you open so well now gently parted your folds. You let out a low moan as you could finally feel the wet tip of Astarion’s cock teasing your throbbing clit, though it was his lips brushing the back of your neck that really made you shiver.   

“So what would you have me do, little nightingale? Would you have me put more of myself into my work, again?”  

“Yes, gods, please,” you mewled, dragging the syllables out just like you knew he enjoyed. “Put as much of yourself in as you can.”

Astarion tried and failed to cover his quickening breath up with a sharp laugh, finally giving away the strain on his own composure. “Well, you are the expert, aren’t you?”  

The iron grip on your hip was the only thing keeping you from toppling over as Astarion buried himself inside you with one forceful thrust. The entirety of his impressive length stretched you painfully wide, and he only granted you one moment to adjust to the feeling of complete, blissful fullness before he pulled out of you again. Grunting, he repeated the movement, faster each time. His deep groans soon turned into a perfect rhyme to your breathless moans as he fucked you franticly. 

“Like my poetry now, darling?” He hissed, slamming into you over and over again as your hand found Astarion’s in the dewy grass.  

Your fingers wound around his wrist, up his lower arm, grasping for support. Couldn’t he see, feel, hear how much you adored his poetry?

“You’re an artist,” you panted through open-mouthed gasps, your entire body singing him the song of your desire, though you really doubted that he paid it much mind.

Astarion had buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent greedily. His tongue traced the curve of your collarbone; you could feel his fangs scrape against your tender skin every now and then. He was a fast learner, you noted, dully—Astarion was already losing himself in his passionate work. 

“Have I found my intended audience yet?” He muttered, more to himself than to you, as his knee hooked under your leg, pushing it up until you lay almost flat on the ground.

“What do you want me to do, darling? Write down how divine your cunt is? Have everybody know what sinful music you make when I fuck you?” Astarion let out a choked laugh. “Fuck that! I don’t need an audience, because they only need to take one look at you and recognize you as a work of mine.” 

He wasn’t wrong. You would be deliciously sore when you returned to camp with the scent of your lover lingering on your skin like ink on thick paper. He was already written all over you; you were his creation. Who else could coax such magnificent sounds out of you but him? And who were you, really, to teach him about poetry when all you had to do was offer your body to him? You hadn’t lied when you said Astarion was an artist.  

Your fingernails left little half-moons on his pale arm as he fucked you half senseless. You could feel yourself dissolve deeper into pleasure with every relentless snap of his hips, knowing that this was when Astarion was most himself—buried deep inside you, chasing his own ideas and desires. Enjoying himself. Writing poetry.

You came fast and hard. Astarion gasped as your cunt clenched violently around him, his movement growing increasingly erratic. He breathed incoherent strings of pretty words into your ear, pulled your hips down on his cock with so much urgency it left you reeling far beyond your orgasm. He was close, too. His rhythm faltered as he slipped into a frenzy, cock twitching inside you as he lost himself in his poetry—in you. 

You brought your arm behind you to find Astaron’s sweat-drenched face, cupping his cheek. He groaned as he leaned into your touch. 

“You’re so talented, Astarion,” you said. “Fill me with all you have.” 

That was all it took. With one last grunt, Astarion spilled himself inside you. He continued rolling his hips into you for another moment, his pace slowing before he collapsed on top of you. 

You let the familiar weight of your lover ground you, enjoyed the way his hands wound under you to caress your stomach, your breasts. Astarion pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before gently withdrawing from you. His seed gushed out of you, leaving his signature on the insides of your legs. 

“You really think I have a thing for poetry?” Astarion asked, sheepishly, as he rolled to his side, pulling you with him to rest against his lean chest. “Or does my talent only reach as far as your pleasure?”

The sun had finally risen over the treeline, melting the morning dew from your skin. Drawing lazy circles across his chest, you considered Astarion’s question. 

“Talent means nothing without practice.” 

He hummed, clearly pleased with your answer. “Care to practise with me, then?” 

“Your poetry or my pleasure?” You asked, looking up to search his face.

Eyes closed to the sun above you, Astarion smiled. “It’s all the same with you, isn’t it, little songstress?”  

The pale elf pressed another kiss to your temple, pulled you even closer to him as you chuckled at his words.

“I would be quite honoured, Astarion.” 

The page had been ripped from your journal. It rested neatly folded in half next to your bedroll, elegant handwriting bleeding through the paper. Bards weren’t morning people—it just came with the job. Though, even as sore and sleepy as you felt, you would’ve never missed the note waiting for you to be found upon waking with the sun. You’d been expecting it, after all. With uncoordinated hands, you unfolded the piece of paper.

“Getting drunk on your

Sweet morning dew, nightingale.

Fucking you—such bliss.” 

—A. 

You scoffed at the poem in your hands, carefully folding it again before you reached for a small box filled with similar pieces of paper. You added the poem to the growing collection. There was no talent without practice, and Astarion and you had only just begun.

tag list:

@spacebarbarianweird @bardic-inspo @kawaiiusagichansan @darlingxdragon @herautumnmorningelegance @ayselluna @chonkercatto

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x you #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female tav #astarion fanfic #bard tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #emicha writes #wilteddreamsbg3

[alitheakorogane]

Just a Normal Genshin Impact Game Time... Is it?

This SAGAU fanfic was actually created like a year ago (March 15, 2023), but decided to redo this again. This was created during the time I was still Venti-less, so this one was like a story of me trying to cope at that time.

And yes, my latest fanart coincidentally fits this story too! I just stumbled on this back when I tried to scroll on my drafts while waiting for the fanart to be posted.

CW: blood, violence, and murder. Be warned.

You were just playing Genshin Impact on your computer like any other day, just doing the usual stuff you always do every time you login like doing the daily commissions and farming domains to build your characters.

One day, after doing your usual Genshin dallies for the day, you decided to take some scenic pictures with your current team on board and explore Teyvat to look for random chests and hidden quests you may miss. You know, to pass the time and possibly scrounge for primogems to farm for your favorite character.

But as you try to explore the place while trying to find a good spot to take pictures, you couldn't shake the feeling that something is wrong, that something or someone was watching you.

You were confused at first, on why you are feeling like that. But you just shrugged, as you may think you just had too much coffee. After all, you love coffee to the bone.

As you took Kokomi to a scenic place somewhere in Mondstadt, you had noticed something strange that was hidden by a canopy of trees, few meters behind the current character. You squinted a little bit, your eyes still trying to figure out the culprit of your distraction.

There was a figure hidden behind the trees.

------

At first, you mistook it as a rock or something inanimate but you then noticed that it was actually a person when it moved. It was not an NPC or random animal, but an actual playable character. After all, you could recognize that outfit even from afar, as Genshin Impact characters had some unique styles that were fit for their personalities and status.

It was Venti, hiding in a tree from far away, with eyes glaring at you.

Your heart nearly burst out of your chest when you saw him as you quickly exit the camera mode, trying to find some explanation of why he was there, to begin with. Maybe there's an event that he had been with?

You checked the quest menu to check for any Mondstadt-related events that you probably never finished, but to your horror, there was nothing. You looked at some guides online, some clues onto why he was there, that there may be an event from other nations that had him as a guest, but to no avail. You remembered that you already did his story quest and the quests that he was actually involved in-game. Maybe it's a glitch?

With a shaky grip, you closed the quest menu and stared at the same spot again. Venti was still there behind the tree, watching you with soulless eyes.

You were shaking in fear as you were also staring at him.

As you were still frozen on your seat, trying to make sense of everything, the figure dressed as Venti suddenly pointing something at your Kokomi, his soulless eyes still looking at your terrified ones, like he was a rabid dog vying for attention.

You suddenly recognized what he was trying to do. He was pointing out his former signature weapon, the iconic Skyward Harp, at you.

"Wait, isn't the Elegy of the End his new signature weapon?" You muttered out as your mind had tried to remember about Venti. You were a fan of him, so it would be in your forte to remember every single detail about him.

You remember that even his weapon was already changed to Elegy of the End during his consecutive reruns due to the new bow fits his kit than Skyward Harp, the latter was still his signature weapon in lore.

In the corner of your eye, you noticed something weird once again, this time on the map.

Apparently, the map shows you that there is a second player on the map, and that player was near your vicinity. You widened your eyes as you remembered that you didn't do any co-op with a Venti main recently and you don't even have a Venti. And to your horror, even your co-op mode wasn't even turned on!

------

You had remembered that you always wanted Venti, but due to your impatient nature, you had decided to build pity and accidentally won Kokomi twice on the last day of her banner. You got C1 Kokomi instead.

Unfortunately, Venti's banner was next and you regretted that he never came home. You had lost your 50/50 to your very first Qiqi at 75 pulls... At the end of his rerun banner.

...this is weird and unsettling, so you decided to quit the game, but to your horror, you can't even access the damned menu, soft locking you out.

As you saw Venti's creepy smile while he was sadistically hitting your main team with his anemo-infused arrows, you were horrified at what happened next.

You watched your entire team being stabbed by his arrows, blood splattering on the screen like a grotesque painting, and your current team crying for mercy and help as they were hit by the arrows the Anemo Archon in disguise had been aiming at them and they were frozen in spot because of some twisted form of code that the game had, instead of them doing their usual lines while being on low HP or fallen down. And you couldn't even make them run by pressing the buttons to move the character you currently have because you're frozen in fear as you saw the character pleading for you to make them run away from the crazed fellow using your keyboard and mouse but you didn't. You didn't even help them survive.

You remembered that characters that had fallen down were supposed to turn into glowing white dust instead of this... bloody mess you were witnessing.

This isn't right!

It was like you were playing a horror game rather than a simple open-world RPG game.

Then while the carnage was happening, there is an in-game text that was showing up while this is happening, of Venti still happily singing his ballads while doing the unthinkable. As if he was gleefully watching you squirm.

You couldn't help but close the game in a blink of an eye after you witnessed the scene by trying to turn off the computer and decided to never touch the game again. Thankfully, your computer turned off, but it had left you traumatized.

You decided to uninstall the game after rebooting the computer. The usual uninstall window had appeared with a picture of a chibified Amber crying showed up and a message about asking if you were really uninstalling the app, as if beckoning you not to delete the game, but you insisted and still pressed the uninstall button.

You decided to leave your room while leaving the computer to do its duty to uninstall the cursed stuff, but after you went outside for some fresh air, the uninstall window that was supposed to show a chibified Klee signifying the game had been uninstalled, glitched for a second.

Venti's creepy smile was seen in a split second on the entirety of the computer screen instead of the window with Klee, with some words written in glitchy Teyvatian language then in glitchy English that was flickering in the screen before it turns normal once again.

Y̸̩͂̆̇̌̾͑͂̄́͠o̴̢̧̫̖̫̥̗̞̖͘ͅṳ̸̢̨̽͆͑̀̔̍̃́̐̄̚ͅ ̸̡̥͙̞̎͗̔͋̔̄ẘ̷̽̃̒͑͑́̔̏͜i̶̳̺͔̼̺̘̙̙̭͑̒͑̉̕l̵̨̛̗̟̟͔̆̅̓͛̅̔l̸̢̹̠͋̊̔́͠ͅ ̷̛͎̮̯̬͇͔͉̗̪́̌͌̄͒̃͘ͅn̸̫̺̼͎̺͓͈͊̿́̔̀̔̈́̈̋̄e̵̬͎̳͊́͂̓̍͂̈́̏͜͝v̸͇̥̩̲̫̪̐̀̌͛̾͛ͅe̴̤̲̺̜̱̫̭̪̝̠͗̓̍̍͜r̶̻͉̳̩̈̑ ̴̨̛̬͉̜̮̰̬͖͕̩̬̑̈́́ẽ̶̡͎̱̰̩̖̫͚̈͋̆̄s̵̺̹͎͍͖̠̥̮̾̊͊̅́͜c̴̛̟͂̾̉̑̑̕ḁ̴̡̛̗̍̏̓̂̍̌̋ṕ̵̬̗̜͓͍̬̍̂͘ȩ̵̧̖̞͕̭̘̭̥̈́̕ͅ ̷̺̣͙̇̀̓͝T̴͇̥̠̦̹̼͇̼͓̘̍̿̎͛̎̽̍͛e̷͕͕̼̟͖̾y̸͖̠̰͖͚̺͆͒̋͐̓v̷̢̛̘͈̹͍̱͚a̴͍̦̠̮̱͌͒̉͋͂͘͘͝͠ͅt̷̢̡̹̍͗͗ ̷̧̛̠̫̘̮͔͍̰̻̙͎̃͋͌̀͛n̸̹̪̦̪̼͔̝̦̠͚̿́̌̋̀͋̒o̶̧̡͉͕̹̠͈̰̰̦̓̌̎̈́̌̈̏͗̕̚͝t̵̖̝̫̩̖̼̯̟͑͠ ̴̟̙̑̀̔͒͝ͅm̸̛̤͇͙̰̬̼̳̩̥͌̒͑̒̉̈́͐̑̉͘͜ͅė̸̢̺̟̜̓̂̑̊,̸̗̠̯̀͋̋̂̚͜ ̸͓̬̗͙̘͓̫̖͖̇̎͌̍̉̓̇͊̕̚͘m̸̤̦͖̟̪̓y̴̨̪̦̘̖̘͔̻͈̮̋̃̈́͐ͅ ̴̠̠͓̜͇̮̰̈̅͊̉̾̂̀̊͝d̸̛̝̋̌͌̑͛͂̉͋̌͝e̵̘̖͇̥͙̊̀̈͛̎͋̈͗́͊͘ͅa̷̭̹̘̖̗̫̱̮͛̐͝ͅŗ̶̬̻͕̓ę̴̻̱̥̄̈̈́̏s̸̮̉̓͂̐̈̀̅̈́̕t̸̢̢̰͙̪̥͔̘͉͙̋̈̃̀̈́̅ ̸͇̹̘̺̫͓̲͔̣͑̉W̶̝͙̱͇͉̥̬͇̽̔̉ì̷̢̨͈͓̟̮͖̞̪̠̹̅̈́̂̒̀̕n̶̢̨̬͚͕̟̻͙͙̾̂̊̍̇̉̎͛̿̕d̸̼̮̮̮̳̜̾͛́̽̇b̴̮̎̽̆̄͛́̽l̴̛͓̓͌̉́͝͝ŭ̴̓̓͗̒́̈́̈̂͜m̶̛̛̛͔̯͔͎̣͕̩̙̊̉̈̊̕͜͝e̶̼̰͙͚̗̪̙̮̓̑̀͒̎̂̑̿̚ͅ,̵̲̭̘̬̟̻͇̊̏̀̇͒́̎͌ ̵̛̟͍̮͉̮͒̅̃͗̓̕̚͝͝n̷͍̲͉͉̤͔̥̮̞̼͐͐͜͝ò̵̝̂̐̎̐̚ ̵̧̢̮̹̣͈̦͉̻͘m̵̡̧͚̟̗̯̗̩̥̫̦̈́̍̃a̷͎̪͎̬͕͔̜̮̠̒͌̆͐̏̌̈́̄͜͝͝t̵̡͚̬̰͓͍͈̱͋̅́͌̊̌́͝ť̵̨͈̹͈̦͕̬̽̈̿̋̃̍̊̉̃ê̴̢̛̟̺̰̈́͂̈̽̍͐̓̆͘r̴̢̲̝̀̈̀͝ ̵̢̥̗̹͍͔̘̙͔̀w̴̤̻̣̅̐̈̀͊͋́͐͘͝ͅh̶̘̥̟̖͎̦͖̬͛̎̐̎͛a̵̛̲͎̬̼̫̳͑̆̆͝t̶̨̛̘̗̪͔̭̥̀̐.̶̼̗̓̎̽̇̑̆͛͠

#genshin impact #genshin #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin #self aware au #corrupted game AU #sagau corrupted game AU #sangonomiya kokomi #genshin sangonomiya #genshin kokomi #genshin impact venti #genshin venti #venti the bard #venti #sagau genshin #sagau fanfic #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fanfic #genshin horror #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fanfiction #sagau fanfiction

[alwaysaliceangel]

"Soy mitad agonía, mitad esperanza"

#loveislove #the last kingdom #patrichie #uhtred x alfred #tlk alfred #cherik #destiel #the terror #fitzier #bagginshield #merthur #ao3 fanfic #thranduil x bard #crowly x aziraphale #good omens #ofmd

[melinoiaagesander]

I know it's not the most important moment of Season 3, but JASKIER FINALLY GOT A HORSE!

#the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #the witcher netflix #geraskier #jaskier the bard #it was bout time #finally an equal partner of Geralt so much potential for fanfic #witcher spoilers #the witcher season 3

[swan--writes]

geralt and jaskier get whacked with a spell which makes geralt...not so much a djinn as an indentured servant to jaskier with little to no willpower

jaskier spends the whole fic being so fucking careful not to give geralt any outright orders, geralt spends the whole fic being Very Confused as to why jaskier isn't (ab)using his power

it was probably meant to make geralt a slave to the mage but y'know...fanfiction-typical shenanigans

#is this anything? #i want to write this but again #*gestures at all the reasons why i haven't been writing* #the witcher #the witcher netflix #twn #witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #jaskier the bard #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #witcher fanfiction #witcher fanfic #witcher fic #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction

[jaskier-more-like-saskier]

Jaskier fidgeting with his burnt finger hurts so badly

#the witcher #dandelion #jaskier #headcanon #geralt of rivera #geraskier #geraskeir #gerlion #witcher netflix #fanfic #jaskier burned finger #joey batey #someone hug the bard #jaskier needs a hug #geralt go hug your bard #twn spoilers

[ladyannemarie5]

Jaskier graduated summa cumme laude from the most prestigious university on the continent. He acts like a superficial and disinterested bard all the time, but from time to time he acts like what he is, a master of the 7 liberal arts: Grammar, Rhetoric, Logic, Geometry, Arithmetic, Music and Astronomy.

Geralt doesn't notice this until Radovid shows up.

Every now and then Jaskier would blurt out a nonsensical comment that usually isn't meant for anyone, other than Geralt with his great ear, to hear.

The prince, hears everything that comes out of the bard's mouth and it is surprising when he laughs at whatever Jaskier said to the bard's amazement. Most amazingly, Radovid responds with another nonsensical comment that makes Jaskier laugh.

Geralt looks at them with a frown. Jaskier stops his laughter and eagerly asks the prince if he has read the philosopher he was apparently quoting. Radovid launches into a story of how his private tutor forced him to read the philosopher and he subsequently became enchanted with the man's writings and read his work for his own pleasure.

The more they travel, the more that happens. It turns out that the apparent nonsense Jaskier occasionally spouted is actually quotes, references and facts from philosophers, poets, astronomers, mathematicians, etc., that he was taught in college or read himself. Radovid responds to each of them with charm and delight, because apparently, Radovid has read them all as part of his royal education.

Geralt is not jealous. He isn't. No matter what Ciri and Yennefer say. He just doesn't like being out of the joke, doesn't like both of them acting like others aren't there and having to listen to their academic conversations when no one but them seems to care.

He just doesn't like that Jaskier smiles like never every time Radovid quotes an old poet of yesteryear that no one but them has read, as if it's an inside joke, because there should be no secrets in their group. He also doesn't like it when Jaskier laughs so loud because that can attract monsters. He hates that Jaskier sits next to Radovid every night talking about boring books because they are mere humans and if something attacks them, then both will be in danger and Geralt will only be able to save one (cof cof Jaskier), it's simple strategy. And absolutely not jealous because the bard now asks the prince for his advice when he writes songs, it's just that was something that used to de-stress Geralt and now he can't sleep well anymore. It's simple comfort.

But it all finally goes to shit when Jaskier turns down Geralt's invitation to spend the winter in Kaer Morhen because stupid Radovid invited him to his castle on the coast where he apparently has the best collection of maritime astronomy on the continent.

Geralt spends all that winter stuck in the library of Kaer Morhen reading anything that might interest Jaskier other than bestiaries. He tries very hard not to think about his bard and the prince huddled in front of the fire looking up at the stars until late at night drinking wine, getting closer and closer and closer until…

No. He won't allow it. When he sees Jaskier in the spring, he'll be sure to casually mention everything he read in winter, he'll make a fool of the prince when Geralt shows his bard the ancient books he brought him from the Wolf school library (not that Vesemir needs to know what came out of his precious library).

He'll graduate summa cumme laude from freaking Oxenfurt if it means getting his bard's attention again.

#i love them sooo much #Jasker is a genius #i really believe Radovid is also a nerd #Geralt is jealous #Vesemir does not need to know that Geralt stole important books from the library for his bard. #the witcher #the witcher netflix #jaskier #radovid #geralt of rivia #radskier #geraskier #ficlet #bunny plot #ao3 fanfic

[childlikegoblinqueen]

Bard! Hunter vs. The False GG

Hey all! I commissioned the fabulous @smallpapers to depict one of my favorite interactions from an earlier SCOM chapter!

The False Golden Guard arc has lasted WAY longer than I had initially planned -- but I promise we will figure out their identity! They are just a devious little bastard who likes to torture Hunter (and me).

Anyway, ENJOY.

#the owl house #toh hunter #toh fanfic #hunter noceda #sweet child o mine #willow park #spotify #huntlow #a03 fanfic #willow x hunter #the false golden guard #bard battle #bard hunter #bard! Hunter #toh fan art #toh fanart #not my art #toh fan comic #hunter the owl house #hunter toh #mattholomule #willow toh #hunter x willow #ao3 fanfiction #commissions #smallpapers #smallishpapers #this is amazing

[leighsartworks216]

request if you feel like it:

i've been thinking a lot about astarion coming up with some unique pet name(unique as in not on his usual list of what he calls everyone) for tav and their brain just short-circuiting a little when they first hear it

“another (again no pressure): tav writing a song about astarion? or them absent-mindedly playing something that was inspired by him? and his reaction to that”

I assume these were both by you, anon lol I combined them because I felt like they worked really well off each other

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: references to sex, anxiety

Word Count: 989

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

As a bard, you were no stranger to performing for audiences and putting on a good show. Smiling and going on with the show in spite of the stage fright. You’d rubbed elbows with nobles and sung ballads to their wives - you shouldn’t be as anxious as you are.

And yet, as you sit Astarion down on a pillow within your tent and pick up your lute, your fingers shake and you feel short of breath. Even when you sit down across from him, you cannot seem to settle down. You performed this a hundred times by now to make sure it was absolutely perfect, but it felt like your fingers had never held an instrument before, and like your voice was entirely gone.

Cold fingers brush your knee. He looks worried. “Are you alright, darling?”

You nod despite the forced smile you put on. “Yup! Never better! I just, uhm,” you reach over for your journal and hurriedly flip through the pages, “need to make sure I’ve got this right.”

Your eyes read the notes and lyrics over and over and over, but process none of it. You try to jumpstart your brain by placing your fingers over the frets, but your nail catches a string and makes a rather terrible noise. You both wince. Astarion leans forward and takes your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Darling, breathe. Imagine I’m just another drunk tavern patron.”

You huff a nervous laugh. “It’s hard when all I see is the man I love.”

He smirks, but the softness of his eyes ruin the illusion. He pulls you forward and meets you halfway to place a kiss on your forehead. “Breathe. I won’t laugh if you mess up.”

“Liar.”

“I won’t laugh excessively if you mess up.”

He pulls away, stroking your cheek with his thumb before he pulls away and leans back on his arms. He’s so open and inviting like this. You want to toss your lute aside and crawl into his lap, bombarding him with hugs. But, you need to share this with him first.

You close your eyes. You imagine you’re just in some dingy inn, playing for scraps and discounted rooms. This song is just like any other you’ve written. The notes are at your fingertips, ready to be released. You breathe in, imagine the song in your mind, and breathe out. You’ve got this.

You avoid looking at him as you close your journal and set it aside - you fear doing so would ruin the illusion you’ve painted for yourself. Your fingers glide smoothly along the strings, as familiar as a lover’s caress, and settle on the first chord. The words climb up your throat, lining up, ready to leap out. You try not to choke on them. You close your eyes again and start to play.

You spent countless nights composing it. Ever since you chanced upon him looking in the mirror and he’d called your descriptions of him “poetry”. To you, poetry was one in the same with the flattery he so desired. Maybe he understood that now, now that you were together. And that is exactly what this song was for.

You sang about his eyes, his hair, his smile, his hands - preening him and his apparent beauty. But you sang about his heart, too. The tenderness he shared in quiet moments, the way he sought your hand out by hesitantly brushing his pinky against yours, the delicate way he peppered your neck with kisses before he bit down as gently as possible. You poured your heart into every note, into every word. You meant every single one.

The last note fluttered into the air, and in the void it left behind came your anxiety. You were scared to open your eyes. To lose this moment would destroy you. If he hated it… Gods, you didn’t know what you’d do.

Cold hands hold your face again, but before you can open your eyes, his lips are on yours. He kisses you with a burning passion. Gratitude and love and a million more emotions, all vying to be expressed in this one act, like he can’t leave them to fester in his chest any longer. When the kiss slows, when he can bear the weight of the remaining feelings, he pulls away so gently. You pant to catch your breath, and you can feel it fanning against his skin and back at you from his proximity.

“My wonderful little song bird,” he hums. Your eyes shoot open to stare at him. He can feel your pulse as your heart skips a beat, soaring with the new pet name. He pecks your lips again briefly. “Only you would take my words and turn them against me in song.”

You chuckle breathlessly. Your mind is still trying to catch up. “You wanted flattery, and I excel in poetry - it only made sense to combine them for my favorite muse.”

He smiles wide, fangs peeking out beneath his lips. “I think I can make an exception,” he teases. “As long as you only sing about my good features.”

You cup his cheek and guide him down until you can kiss his forehead. “All of your features are good features, my star.” You lift his head again to press your forehead to his. “I can’t admire a bow and ignore its arrows - you’re not you without all of your qualities, good and bad and middling.”

“Fine,” he sighs, “but I’m to be your first audience with each one.”

“And if I write something truly scandalous?”

He smirks devilishly. “Then I’m to be your only audience, and,” he leans forward to whisper in your ear, “I intend to act out each phrase.”

You hum. “I should get to writing, then.”

Fangs tease at your lobe. “Allow me to provide you some inspiration, my precious song bird. It’s only fair, as your favorite muse.”

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnloveslokiredacted @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog

#request #requested #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #bard tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

[myths0f01d]

In my bagginshield era again. So obviously with that I watched the movies again. Let me tell you. It felt like I was watching a fanfic. It made so much sense if you watched it as Bilbo and Thorin falling in love. It also hurts a lot more when they reach the mountain in desolation of Smaug when Thorin points his sword to Bilbo. Just think that they either started courting or got married in Lake Town. You can feel the sheer heartbreak Bilbo goes through when he realizes Thorin is changing.

#bagginshield #the company of thorin oakenshield #thorin x bilbo #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #botfa #the hobbit #bard the bowman #fili and kili #desolation of smaug #gold sickness #smaug #fanfic #ao3fic #middle earth #bag end #thranduil #lord of the rings #dwalin #balin #bofur #nori #ori #dori #gloin #bombur #legolas

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 14

Jaskier is sure Geralt ignores most of what he says. That is, until Geralt leaves his journal behind when he goes to hunt one day. Jaskier trips on it and goes to put it in his pack, light-heartedly muttering to Roach about how much of a slob that man is, before seeing his name plastered all over the page. He takes a deep breath and prepares himself to read a page filled with nothing but insults and a rant of how annoying Jaskier must be, only to find out the journal is filled with paragraph after paragraph of loving descriptions and insights into everything Jaskier speaks or sings about, including the occasional highly-detailed sketch of him, made with love. Jaskier reads page after page after page after page after page, and only stops when interrupted by Geralt's shocked intake of breath as he comes back to camp.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Pre-Prompt fic that ticks some of the boxes was found by @merthurmagic! It focuses on the drawing part, but it's very sweet! It involves getting together, and the kaer morhen boys! I'm not a personal fan of the way dialogue is written, with angle brackets instead of quotation marks, but it's still a good read!

#fanfiction prompts #geralt x dandelion #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #witcher fanfiction #the witcher #geralt loves his bard! #writing prompts #requited unrequited love #friends to lovers #diary #Fanfic Prompts #Fanfiction prompt #Story prompt #Writing prompt #love confessions #plot bunny #“monster journal” this “kill tracker” that #its a diary geralt #we love to see it #first kiss #had to edit cause i forgot to capitalize roachy girl's name lol

[bubbly-minx]

NSFW Scaramouche x GN Reader

CW: NSFW, Sub/bottom reader, Dom/top Scaramouche, Drinking/drunk reader, dubcon, established relationship, Impact play, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Slight degradation. NSFW under the cut! Summary: You get dropped off at home late by your friend after a night of drinking. Scaramouche is upset, and makes that very clear to you. Words: 2.1k

You were holding your phone, pressing down on the power button in a futile attempt to turn it back on after you had just seen it flash its power down screen. You groaned in frustration, knowing that you really should have charged your phone before going out.

You were a little tipsy already, feeling a bit light-headed from the drinking. You glanced over at Venti, who had just called over the waiter to ask for another bottle. It was almost 1 AM, and he didn't even seem effected by the alcohol. He smiled as the waiter left, and downed the rest of his drink in one shot.

You had promised Scaramouche that you would be back home early, saying that you were only going out to grab a few drinks and eat dinner with an old friend who was visiting town. He reluctantly agreed to let you go alone, but only if you promised to come back early. You looked back down at your phone, which was not turning back on. You had left the house with only 50 percent, assuming that the meeting wouldn't last long enough that your phone would run out of battery. But with your friend's drinking habits, you should have known better. "Venti, it's getting late, don't you think?" You said. "I think we should start getting ready to go".

"Nonsense! The night is still young, and we still have so much catching up to do! I don't even know when the next time I'll be able to visit will be." He replied. "Besides, I just ordered us another drink. This one is really good, I think you'll like it"

"But-"

"Is this about your overprotective boyfriend? Sheesh, he's a little bit too clingy don't ya think? It's only 1 right now, I'm sure he wouldn't mind. We're just friends having some fun, everyone has to let loose once in awhile." Venti smiled, tilting his head while he continued to poke fun at you about "having a curfew". You chewed your lip while holding your dead phone, contemplating if you really should stay back longer. Venti's visit to town was super sudden, and it was a rare chance for him to meet and hang out with you before he would go off to travel again for his job. You looked at the clock behind Venti and back at his pleading face.

Before you could really even make up your mind, the waiter came back with two bottles, which Venti had grabbed rather quickly to pour into your cup. "Try it! It's super good. Tastes just like juice". You stared at the glass, smelling the sweet, fruity aroma of the alcohol he had just poured. "Okay but after this, I'm gonna head home". You sipped a little bit from your cup and Venti was right. The drink was sickeningly sweet, and barely had any alcohol taste to it.

Before you knew it, you had poured the rest of the bottle into your cup. And then another.....and another.....

"tehehe, Tell me- tell me the story again. That story about...about you getting, heheh, getting kicked out of dormssss" You were giggling, trying hard to focus on Venti's face. "Okay okay, so, the dorm RA found out that I was bringing alcohol, because someone snitched, right? and the RA raided my room while me and my roomie were drinking, and we both were super drunk so they took all our alcohol and gave us a scolding. But I still had a bottle that-" Your head bobbed up and down as you struggled to stay fully awake to listen to the story. You put your head down on the table, the cool surface feeling refreshing against your hot cheeks. You closed your eyes in bliss as venti's voice faded out while you began to doze off....

"Hey! Hey! Get up! The restaurant is closed, we gotta go!"

Venti was shaking you, trying to get you to wake up as an obviously tired and irritated worker stood by the table. You shook him off, asking for "Five more minutes Scaramouche".

Venti laughed nervously at the worker, before grabbing your arm and hoisting you up to your feet. "Come on, we gotta get you home". Venti apologized and thanked the worker, before walking you out the restaurant while you struggled to keep up.

"Ventiiii, I wanna go hooome. What time is it? Scaramouche is waiting for meee" you said while laughing. "He's waiting at home for meeee". Venti grunted as he tried to keep you on your feet. "Yeah yeah, I'm sure he is, let's get you home, okay?". You trip, sending both you and Venti tumbling down to the floor. You land on the floor butt first, causing you to squeak out an "ouch" while Venti rubbed his elbow. You began to tear up from the pain, and start to whine about how you wanted to go home and see Scaramouche Panicked, Venti grabs your arm while wiping the tears on your face. "No no, don't cry, you just need to walk a little more, come on let's go". You nod, and get up with his help and start walking again. "Thought you would learn how to hold your liquor by now, but I guess things never really change" he mumbled under his breath

Venti eventually gets you back home, and before he can even ask you to get your keys out, the door opens. Scaramouche is there by the door way, and he's standing in his pajamas, very clearly mad as he looks at Venti and then over at you. You hold your head up at Scaramouche and concern replaces his anger as he sees your puffy eyes and dried up tears.

"My butt hurtsss" you whine.

Scaramouche quickly looks over at Venti, before he snatches you into a hug from Venti's shoulder. "Explain." he demands.

"This is a huge misunderstanding, we were walking and they just fell, honest!" Venti exclaims. Scaramouche looks down at you, your eyes already closed again as you tried to sleep in his arms. He stares at Venti before telling him in a low voice, "Get out. Get out and go home. Don't worry about them". Before Venti can react, Scaramouche slams the door shut on his face, leaving him alone outside. "Talk about overprotective...." he mumbles as he starts his walk to his hotel.

Scaramouche places you on your bed, sighing heavily as he walked over to the doorway to turn the lights off. The loss of his warmth stirs you from your sleep, and you get up from bed to protest. With your arms out, you reach for hug. "Scaramouche, I wanna sleep with youuu itso cold".

He freezes, his hand just above the light switch to the room. He stomps over to you on the bed, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at him. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? I called you over and over again but you never even picked up. You didn't reply to any of my messages and you didn't come back on time either. Do you even know what time it is?"

You shake your head.

"It's past 3 AM right now. You said you would be home before 1:30. I thought something bad had happened to you. But I guess you just couldn't resist drinking with another man, huh? You were just having so much fun that you didn't stop to call or answer me, your worried boyfriend? You must have loved all the attention your cute little ass was getting and lost a few screws in that dumb little head of yours. You reek of alcohol, it's disgusting. I was just going to let this go for tonight but you just riled me up again. Turn around"

He pushes you over his knees and pulls your underwear down, ignoring you as you yelp in surprise. He looks at your slightly red ass and clicks his tongue, running his palm over the red skin. "Is what he said true? Did you really just fall?" You nod your head yes frantically, and try to scoot away in embarrassment. Scaramouche's hand lifts from your ass and you look towards him, thinking that he was going to let you go now.

His hands slaps back down your ass, leaving a painful stinging sensation. "Stop squirming slut. You thought I was just going to trust that he didn't do anything to you? Ha, as if. You lied to me once already tonight. I'll decide for myself if he did anything or not".

"I promise Scaramouche, he didn't do anything. We just drank a little, just a little-" Scaramouche wordless shoved his finger in you, ignoring what you were telling him. His finger moved and squirmed around in your hole, moving in and out as deep as it possibly could, pushing until he was knuckle deep. "Just a little? Don't make me laugh. The zoned out look in your eyes and the way you're talking says otherwise. Look how wet you are. Were you this aroused when you were with him too? Did your friend touch you like this too?" He pushed in a second finger, stretching you out as he began to push and probe spots that made your head feel funny. He pulled his hand out, inspecting his fingers and your twitching hole.

"Looks like you were telling the truth. But you still need to be punished."

He shoves his fingers back in, moving at a faster pace than before and you began to moan and pant, grabbing onto his thigh as you tried to deal with the pleasure. "Are you mad? Aauhg- I'm sorry, i'm sorry Scara I won't do it again- NNhgh~. Wait slow down, slow down I'm gonna cum, i'm gonna cum, cumming, cumming-" Scaramouche's fingers suddenly left, and you whimper and push your hips out in hopes that your poor, aching hole would meet with his fingers again. Instead, you're met with a spank, which shuts you up. He smirks as he hits you again and again, the strength against each hit getting stronger and stronger as he a watched your plump ass grow red.

"Who said you can shake your hips like that? Like a brain-dead bitch in heat? This is supposed to be your punishment but look how desperate you are for just my fingers. You're so pathetic it's almost cute"

Tears form in your eyes from the pain and he stops, instead rubbing and soothing your stinging butt with his cool hand, shushing you and bending low enough to whisper coos in your ear that you couldn't hear well over your own panting and sniffling.

"Awwwh, Did that hurt? I'm sorry. But now how are you going to win my forgiveness?" You take a second to collect your self and look up at Scaramouche, tears now falling out of your eyes. "I dunno, I wanna cum, lemme cum please" you moaned out.

Scaramouche lifted you up from his knees and placed you face down onto the bed, pushing your hips up into the air. He takes out his already hard cock, stroking it a few times before slowly pushing himself into your hole. Both of you moan as he reaches to the hilt of his dick.

His tight grip on your hips didn't allow you to squirm or thrust back onto him, forcing you to just take him at the agonizingly slow pace he had set. You whimpered as he moved his hands to grope your now bruised ass while speeding up his pace. "You're so beautiful and you're all mine. Mine alone to see this undone, Mine alone to fuck. Don't ever forget that." Scaramouche grunted, his thrusts against your plush ass filling the room with lewd noises. You were babbling incoherently, moaning and clawing at the bed sheets in order to try and ground yourself but you cum, Scaramouche's cock and words being too much to bear.

"I can feel you tightening up, you like that? You like when I fuck you like this and make you cum? You like cumming all over my cock? Fuck, you're so cute like this, all drunk and fucked up. Can you even hear me?

He groaned, feeling you spasm around him as you continued to ride out your orgasm. "I'm going to cum, going to cum inside all over you. Take it, take it all". Scaramouche thrusted his cock in as deep as he could before cumming inside, his cum leaving a hot feeling inside you.

He pulled out, watching him cum leak out of your lewd hole. You panted as your body flopped over from exhaustion onto the bed. Scaramouche leaned over you, reaching down to wipe the tears on your cheek. "I'm going to get the water in the bath started. Just stay here"

You watched as Scaramouche walked out the room, and fell asleep to the sound of the running water.

#genshin fanfic #genshin impact #venti the bard #venti #smut #genshin smut #scaramouche #wanderer #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche smut #kunikuzushi smut #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #scara #genshin

[commander-krios]

With Devotion And A Little Luck

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: f!Tav/Rolan Rating: Teen Summary: Rolan wasn't expecting a tiny bard with a penchant for wild magic to get under his skin in this way, but with a little luck, his devotion will be rewarded in kind. Words: 5002 Additional Tags: Tieflings, Romance, Love, Fluff, Pranks, Marriage Proposal, Post-Canon, Bard Tav

Read on AO3

The gathering was separated from the bustle of Baldur’s Gate, sequestered away in Ramazith’s Tower as they were. The company wasn’t awful, he supposed, taking a drink of wine from his goblet. This party was much better than the one at the Grove, for many reasons, but the main of them because Rolan was now archmage of Baldur’s Gate, master of his own tower, and safely within the city walls with his siblings, a new life opening up before him.

And it was all because of the irritating bard playing at the center of the party, the soft melody of her lute at odds with the swirling dance she attempted. She’d taken to keeping her hair down lately, the burgundy streaks more noticeable as the waves of her raven hair tumbled over her shoulders. Juniper was beautiful, free of a tadpole, her only responsibility to herself and those she deemed worthy of her attention.

Rolan was grateful to be one of them.

With a satisfied sigh, he walked the perimeter of the room, eyes sweeping across the other guests: her former companions, most of the surviving tiefling refugees (the children as well), Cal and Lia, and some of their allies were gathered, drinking and laughing and enjoying the very fact that they were alive and their enemies were not.

“You’re smiling more than usual.” Lia said from where she lurked, a mug of ale in her hands and the usual mischief on her face. 

“Be careful, Rolan.” Cal added from where he sat on a chair near their sister, his expression parroting hers. “You might scare the children.”

“Very funny.” He snapped, but his voice held no anger. It couldn’t when he was grinning like a fool. “You cannot deny we’ve been lucky in our endeavors.”

“It isn’t luck. Not when Juniper is involved. Luck laughs at her every time she tries something.” Lia waved to where the bard was starting a new tune, joined by Alfira’s lute and Shadowheart’s singing voice. Wyll spun Astarion briefly before dipping him, a grin curling the Blade’s lips as he righted them to standing, applause breaking out amongst the group.

Rolan turned back to Lia, ready to jump to Juni’s defense if he needed to. “That’s not-”

Cal raised an eyebrow and he paused, waiting for his brother to speak. “She attracts accidents like fruit attracts flies, but then you know that.”

“Let’s be fair to Rolan. He probably likes it.”

He opened his mouth, a retort on the tip of his tongue when a touch of the weave passed over him. A soothing presence, to be sure, and he didn’t even have to turn to know who had joined their circle.

“Ah, it’s wonderful to see you three in such high spirits.” Gale said, the smile on his face brighter than the dancing lights that Halsin was casting over the gathering. “How is life in the Tower?”

“It’s wonderful.” Lia gushed before taking a quick glance at Rolan, grin only widening. “We never get a moment’s silence thanks to this one.”

Gale raised an eyebrow, curious, and Rolan already felt his cheeks heat. “She’s being facetious. Nothing as untoward as she’s implying happens. Besides-” He glared at his sister with a pointed look. “She doesn’t live at the Tower any longer. Not since joining the Flaming Fist.”

“And I’ve never been happier.”

Ignoring Lia’s jab, Rolan motioned for Gale to follow him, away from the prying ears of his siblings and the rest of the guests. The rumble of chatter drifted around them, a comforting lull to the evening. Stepping away from the crowds, Rolan faced Juniper’s closest friend, wondering how he might approach the subject without the awkwardness that he knew was going to follow.

Clenching his hands into fists at his side, he took a deep breath before hissing it out between his teeth. Anxiety clenched at his chest, a fear that he didn’t realize he had coiling in his gut. “Gale, I want to propose marriage.”

The older wizard cocked an eyebrow, a shocked laugh escaping his mouth. “Well, this is certainly unexpected, for sure. While I am flattered, Rolan, I must regretfully decline.”

Rolan opened his mouth to speak, before shutting it close quickly, confusion morphing into horror. “What? No, not you! Whatever made you think such a thing. I meant Juniper.”

Gale chuckled, giving him a knowing look as he swiped a bottle of some fancy liquor from the table next to them. “I didn’t know your face could get any rosier, archwizard.”

Rolan huffed, running a hand over his face, mortified. He’d walked right into that one. “I think you are spending too much time with Juniper.”

“On the contrary, I do enjoy our afternoon teas.” Gale sipped his drink, barely able to hide the grin he wore. When he was finished, he pointedly glanced around the room at the people as they moved around and conversed with others. A crowd that rivaled any of the parties they’d had since the war had ended. “So what was your plan? To do it now, here, around all of these people? Don’t you think you might do this in a… quieter environment?”

The very thought of making a public spectacle out of something so personal, so private, was almost enough to make him combust on the spot. “I… not at this very moment! I am looking for advice on how to proceed with a proposal. I… well, I’ve never done one.”

“And you believe I have?” Gale asked, the amusement on his face at least letting Rolan feel comfort knowing that he hadn’t offended him. “I think you might have the wrong idea about me.”

Rolan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, trying to regain control of the awful turn in their conversation. 

“Maybe you should consult Astarion, hmm? He might be better for planning elaborate things like this.” Gale’s eyes searched the people for the vampire. “I’m sure he’ll have some ideas. The bigger, the better.”

“No.” Rolan growled out, the idea that Astarion would help him instead of mocking him the entire time was beyond what he was willing to deal with. He cleared his throat awkwardly when Gale turned back, eyes widened in shock. With his voice under control, he repeated himself. “No. I would prefer it if Astarion was not involved.”

“Perhaps Shadowheart, then?”

That name brought up a different issue. Rolan winced, trying to hide it but knew Gale saw it when his gaze softened slightly. “I… doubt she’d want to help. It might be awkward for her.”

“How so?”

He didn’t know then? That was a surprise. Juniper wasn’t usually a secretive person. Rolan figured her fling with Shadowheart would’ve been obvious to those that spent time in camp with them, especially someone she was as close with as she was with Gale. When she’d told him about her feelings for Shadowheart, and Karlach, back when they were traveling together in the beginning… he’d had a mini breakdown over it.

“Shadowheart and Juniper… well, Juni mentioned the two of them were… close.”

Gale pondered his words momentarily before his eyes widened, realizing what Rolan was getting at. “Oh, I see what’s happened.” Gale poured a second glass of alcohol, handing it to Rolan without preamble. “You’re completely mistaken about the type of relationship they had.”

“But-”

“There was, at one point, a mutual attraction. They spent much of their time together in the beginning. Shadowheart, especially, felt a closeness to Juniper that she didn’t with the rest of our party.” Gale waited for him to take a sip of the drink, the alcohol burning his tongue before it set his throat on fire when he swallowed. Rolan hoped it helped him get through this conversation. “But- that all changed after the attack on the Grove.” Rolan met his gaze, finding it strange to see Gale watching him in interest. “Do you know why?”

“I’m certain you’ll tell me.”

“There was ample opportunity for her to choose a lover the night of the party. I remember it well. The way the attention was on her as she played her lute, chatted with the guests, drank more alcohol than her small form should’ve been able to handle. Shadowheart, Astarion, the Blade of Frontiers, our dear Karlach. I watched them all from where I sat by my tent, observing the festivities, watching them make fools of themselves because no matter how hard they tried, no matter how much flirting Halsin did or how much praise that Zevlor lavished on her, none of them had a chance.” Gale sighed, eyes far away as if he remembered that night as vividly as Rolan did. 

Things were making sense now, but he needed to hear it. He couldn’t find the words to respond, only stared at Gale as he returned his gaze to his face.

“Because she chose to spend the night in your presence.”

“I…” He didn’t deserve her affection at that time, not at all. Not with the way he’d treated her. “I was awful to her. Why did she-”

“You’ll never truly know unless you ask.”

He pondered Gale’s words a moment, weighing the truth of them. He was prepared to ask another question, probably one that would’ve embarrassed him no doubt, when something tugged on the sleeves of his robes.

“Master Rolan?” 

Glancing down, Rolan caught sight of Silfy… or was it Ide? Which one had the mass of curls piled atop their head? He honestly didn’t know all of their names, not like Juniper did, and he felt a flash of guilt. After everything they’d all been through, he really should’ve been making more of an effort to keep in touch with the other tieflings from Elturel. The children were especially vulnerable.

“Uh, yes? Did you need something?”

The child fidgeted, glancing at her feet and it took him a moment to recognize where he’d seen her. It was the same child he’d angrily (and drunkenly) yelled at during their stay at Last Light. More things for him to make up for, it seemed.

“Ide, right?”

She blinked at him owlishly, as if surprised he knew her name. Which, he supposed, was a shock since he too wasn’t sure if he knew it either. “Y-yes, sir.”

Rolan knelt so he could meet her gaze on her level, giving her the power when she’d had so little in her young life. He knew how awful it felt to not have control over what happened to you, to have to trust others for your safety. But she was safe, and despite how much of an ass he acted about it, he was proud to know that he helped her achieve that much. “Why don’t you tell me what you need and I’ll help you, alright?”

She eyed him warily, ochre eyes slanting suspiciously. “Why are you being so nice?”

Rolan flinched, but he supposed he deserved that. Stifling a sigh in his chest before it could escape, he glanced around the room, seeking the woman he knew would help him find the words that always failed him. Juniper stood across the room, leaving Alfira to continue the music while she, the Hero of Baldur’s Gate, chatted with some of the other guests. She must’ve felt his gaze because she glanced in his direction, a smile on her lips.

His heart skipped a beat, maybe even two, at the grin that was only for him. A grin that he got to see every morning when the dawn broke across the sky, and every night when the stars were sparkling like a thousand dancing lights. Whatever it was that Juniper saw in him, even months into their relationship, he still completely didn’t understand, but he was never going to regret a single second they were together. 

Rolan returned his gaze to Ide, trying to tame his own smile, if only to keep from scaring the child. “Because someone reminded me that kindness was important. And we can’t choose our pasts, but we can decide our futures.”

Ide smiled at him, reaching out to tug on his sleeve again. “Juniper is smart.”

Rolan snorted in amusement, but the child spoke the truth. At least, when it came to matters that didn’t require magic. He would never trust her with that ever again. “I’ll ask again, what did you need?”

“Oh, I wanted to do something for you.” Ide kicked her feet with her hands clutched behind her back, and for a brief moment, he swore he noticed the same type of mischief that Lia got in her eyes before she teased him. “Juniper let me braid her hair for the party and…”

She trailed off, raising her eyebrows as if she expected him to finish her thoughts. With a sigh, he took another glance in Juni’s direction, noting that she did indeed have an elaborate braid in her hair. The little hat with bells attached was also a newer acquisition, probably from Facemaker’s though Rolan didn’t know when she’d gone to get it.

He turned his attention back to Ide, watching as she smiled at him with a grin that made warning bells go off in his head. She was up to something, but with no proof, he’d only make an ass of himself if he started making accusations.

“Let me guess. You want to braid my hair as well?”

The child shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes as she responded. “It was Miss Juniper’s idea.”

He knew that was bullshit. Or at the very least, not the entire truth. While he didn’t doubt that Juniper helped Ide in whatever schemes she and the other children had concocted, Rolan remembered when he too had been a child, not all that long ago. Causing trouble was a perk of being small and presumably innocent of the world. Though, as a tiefling child, it is certainly more difficult to get away with even the smallest infractions.

And that was the purpose of this, he supposed. These children were orphans and Juniper was extending them a kindness, a place to belong, even for a fraction of a moment in time. It was more than he and his siblings ever got.

Stifling a sigh, Rolan let Ide lead him to a chair out of the way of the crowd. He sat, suspicion growing as she pulled up a stool behind him, climbing up with little trouble. She balanced on her knees, wobbling briefly, and Rolan feared that she might topple over and smash her head against the ground. But she steadied herself, putting her hands on the back of his chair. 

When she met his gaze, she raised an eyebrow. “Ya need to face the other way for this to work, yeah?”

The sigh slipped out this time. He tried to get comfortable, but nothing was significantly less comfortable than having a child in control of anything.

Ide pulled the band from his hair, combing her fingers between the strands, admiring the length. Or, at least, that’s what he assumed she was doing. “Ya always so damned uptight?”

“What did you-” Rolan tried to turn, but Ide pulled on his hair roughly, stopping him with a sudden stab of pain along his scalp. “Damn it, that hurts!”

“Stop movin’ then.” She muttered, twisting a tight braid along his hairline. “Ya makin’ my work hard.”

Rolan rolled his eyes, but did as he was told, letting the menace that masqueraded as a child continue to braid what was left of his hair after she’d yanked half out. The things he did for Juniper, even when she wasn’t the one who’d asked in the first place. 

It wasn’t long before he and Ide drew a small crowd…of more children.

“I can braid better than that.” One of the girls said, crossing her arms and turning up her nose at them. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail with cute little braids framing her face. Braids that were pretty, he supposed. “You aren’t making them tight enough.”

A boy, Rolan was pretty sure it was the one that swindled people while his sister pickpocketed (Matthis? Matty?) stood next to the girl with braids, tapping a finger to his chin. “Arabella has a point.”

“There’s only one way to settle this.” The girl, Arabella, pulled up her own chair, climbing up on the other side of Rolan without even asking. What in the nine hells were these children up to?

Rolan shifted away from Arabella, only to get his hair tugged painfully by Ide again.

“Ouch!”

“Sit still!” She scolded him like he was the child here. Once he settled again, she must’ve turned her attention to the other girl. “You're on. Stakes?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Arabella wave another tiefling child over, Mirkon if the wild mass of curls was any indication, whispering something in his ear before he disappeared. “Tightest braids with flowers weaved in. Mattis will judge. Winner gets the last sweet roll in the kitchen.”

Last sweet roll? Wait- 

“When did you go into the kitchens-”

“No usin’ your fancy magic.” Ide snapped, untangling the braid she’d been working on before the interruption. 

Laughter on the opposite side of the room caught his attention. Lia and Cal were watching the situation with the joy of two younger siblings witnessing the oldest’s torture. He flushed in irritation.

When he opened his mouth to snap at them, or the children, he wasn’t picky, the words stopped in his throat. His mouth flapped like a fish’s, no sound, not a single word uttered from it. Glancing at the little girl to his left, he saw the flash of a smirk before she blinked at him, eyes wide in childlike innocence. 

Did she… use Silence on him?

That little-

“Handy magic.” Mattis said from where he stood, watching the entire interaction with a shit-eating grin. “Maybe we could make use of it for…” He trailed off at the glare Rolan aimed in his direction. “Ah, we’ll talk about it later. Where there are less ears.”

Rolan tried to speak, to tell the little menace what he wanted to do with his ears, but nothing came out. With a disgruntled noise that couldn’t be heard either, he crossed his arms over his chest like a child and waited for the girls to finish their work. It wasn’t long before Mirkon returned with a handful of flowers from one of the vases.

He suffered for about twenty minutes as his hair was pulled, flowers were woven into the plaits, the scent tickling his nose. His scalp was on fire when they finished, leaving him sitting there with a frown on his face and a head full of braids.

“There!” Arabella exclaimed happily, jumping off of the stool to the giggling of the rest of the children. “What do you think, Mattis?”

The young boy approached, a claw to his chin as he studied their handiwork. “Hmmm.”

Zurgan, he could only imagine how he looked with the frippery in his hair and the ridiculous amount of braids he felt pressed against his scalp. And he still couldn’t speak. Despite having once been a child himself, he couldn’t imagine doing half the things these ones did. Zevlor was too soft on them and Juniper only made it worse.

“I'm calling it for Ide.” Mattis said with a grin, as if he liked it when Arabella glared at him incredulously. “Sorry, Bells.”

“I’ll ask him instead.” Arabella huffed, muttering an incantation to lift the spell. The tingling in his throat dissipated and he was left with a roughness in his vocal cords that he was sure would annoy him for the rest of the evening. Then she handed him a small oval mirror, small enough to carry in someone’s bag on their travels. “What do you say? Which braids are better?”

He glanced down at his mirror image, seeing his prominent nose and smattering of dark freckles, the dark scleras and fiery irises, the points of his teeth showing beneath his top lip. His dark hair was plaited on both sides, but the right was significantly looser, the flowers drooping where they were tied in. He remembered the last time he said a harsh word to Ide and lost his nerve. How could he be a critic to a child whom he’d hurt in the past?

Rolan was prepared to risk the ire of the little wizard in the making when he noticed the other decoration they’d put on him. 

Mittens. On his horns, fingerless ones that bent at awkward angles from where they hung. When had they done that? 

“What did you-”

The children broke off in laughter, scattering throughout the Tower in a rush, each in a different direction so they wouldn’t be found together.

With a huff, he stood, taking the mirror with him before he stopped suddenly, realizing he’d been watched. Juniper crossed the distance between them, struggling not to smile, but failing immediately when he glanced down at her, his face scrunched in irritation. His scalp throbbed painfully, the braids too tight, the flowers irritating his nose and he had to stifle a sneeze.

“Having fun?” She asked sweetly, hands behind her back as if she was innocent of any wrongdoing. It only made him suspect her more.

“You set me up, didn’t you?” He asked, even if he already knew the truth. Her smirk was enough of an answer for him. “Those children were not gentle.”

“Poor Rolan.” Juniper reached up to run a hand over his new braids, inspecting them thoroughly. A delighted sound left her throat, something close to a laugh. “They did an excellent job.”

“I’m sure they did. Even if they were clearly plotting something else the entire time.” He pointed at the mittens hanging haphazardly from his horns and the sight made a giggle burst from her. “This is your fault.”

“You don’t trust me when I say I had nothing to do with it?”

Rolan slid his hands against her waist, locking his fingers together at the small of her back before pulling her closer. His mouth brushed across her cheek, a soft kiss before he responded. “I trust you to save my life, but I also trust you to keep that same life from being boring.”

“Oh, believe me. You’ll never be bored with me around.”

Rolan glanced down at her clothing, taking in the low cut neckline, the flare of the gown down to her feet, the slit on one side that showed off her calf whenever she turned just so. It suited her as much as the stupid hat on her head did. 

“You are stunning.”

Juniper’s mouth curled, and he was prepared for her teasing before she even spoke. “The bells really do it for you, huh?”

She finished her question with a jingle of said bells.

A choked laugh left him. Moving closer, Rolan brought her flush against his body. “The one attached to the bells is the reason behind my affection, if you must know.”

She laughed, breathless, her fingers brushing against the back of his neck before disappearing into his braided hair. “Be careful or we’ll be giving the guests a different type of show.”

“Let them see if they wish to look.” Rolan rested his forehead against hers, uncaring about the guests or her friends or even his siblings when she was watching him with that cheeky expression. “They should know how lucky I am.”

She flushed. He could see it against her collarbone and up her neck, across her cheeks. She was more than stunning. The glow of the magical lights made her nearly ethereal, a goddess of song and dance and happy things. “You’re charming when you want to be.”

“I’m always charming.” Rolan shifted away, enough to offer an arm, a smile on his face when she stared at him. “Care to take a walk?”

She gazed at him with suspicion, raising an eyebrow when he didn’t explain. “What more could I need than good music, excellent wine, and the people I love?”

She was teasing him. Of course she was. It wasn’t Juniper if she wasn’t poking fun at him. “Perhaps a moment alone with your favorite wizard?”

She studied him briefly, trying to discern the real reason from expression alone. He met her eyes with a lazy smirk, only for a laugh to escape her. Instead of taking his arm, she slipped her hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “What makes you think Gale isn’t my favorite?”

“I won’t dignify that with a response.” 

She laughed again, as melodic as her singing, and all feigned anger about his hair faded. No matter how irritated he became, whether at her or someone else, all she had to do was laugh and he forgave everything. “I’m sorry, but your hair-”

“You can say it looks ridiculous. I’ve seen it.”

She snorted before covering her mouth as if she couldn’t believe the sound came from her. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” 

“I’m not, but I swear there was a reason.” Juniper moved closer to wrap her arms around him, laying her cheek against his chest, the gesture simple yet powerful. She trusted him beyond anything he’d ever expected and he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her warmth pressed against him.

Brushing his lips against the spot between her horns, he sighed, a quiet happy sound. “You always have your reasons, don’t you?”

She giggled, the laughter rumbling into his own chest, and he couldn’t stop from grinning. He truly didn’t care what the reasons were. Only that he got to hold her at the end of the day. 

“Well, you know how Alfira was overwhelmed with students at the school and I offered to take Mirkon on for her?”

Juniper’s bard training with Mirkon was unorthodox, but the child was learning many things from her, enough that Rolan agreed to let them practice in the Tower on the days he was tending the shop. But what did that have anything to do with this? 

“Yes.”

“And do you remember how my father took Mattis on to learn how to run a business? So that one day, he might take over the instrument shop? And Silfy, with Zevlor’s Hellraiser training.” 

Pieces were clicking in his brain, but he still couldn’t figure out the path they were taking. “And was it Arabella who you wished me to take on as an apprentice?”

He felt a flash of irritation at the use of silence on him. Even if he was so inclined on taking an apprentice, he might refuse now from a childish pettiness.

“No, that was Ide. She mentioned wanting to read and…” She paused, biting her lip. “It doesn't matter.”

Her hands moved up his back, tracing a path across his clothing and around to his chest, brushing his shoulders briefly until she reached his neck. Then she played with the hair that freely hung around his shoulders. The easy touch of her fingers as they unraveled the braids almost made him shiver, the gentleness with which she worked nearly undoing him immediately.

“I was wondering if they could become a more… permanent addition to the Tower?” She hadn’t looked at him with those fiery blue eyes, but he could hear the gears turning in her head. “I figured they were already practically family, why not make it true?”

When she tilted her head up, Rolan glanced at her lips, unkissed since this morning and a dangerous feeling took hold in his chest. He wanted this for the rest of his life. The teasing, the longing, the love. The half made plans and late mornings and laughter. And a family, one he could have without fear of not being worthy. Cal and Lia and a roost of rambunctious children. He wanted all of it with this frustratingly beautiful woman in his arms.

Even if those children would probably drive him to an early grave.

Leaning forward, he captured her mouth in a kiss that shook him down to his very bones. Her lips were soft, insistent as she kissed him back, her hands still gentle as she pulled him closer. He couldn’t name every feeling swirling in him, but as soon as Juniper broke away and continued to undo the braids in his hair, he knew what he wanted.

For the first time in his entire life, he wasn’t second guessing himself.

“Marry me.”

She paused in her work, eyes wide and unblinking, fingers still against the braids still in his hair.

“We can work out the details later, the Tower, the children, the future.” Rolan promised her, forehead touching hers as he forced her to meet his gaze. She was still in shock, mouth hanging partially open. “But I want it all. With you. So I’m asking you to be my wife, Juniper.”

A laugh left her in a breathless gasp, mouth curling in a smile that he would work like hell to see every single day. “You do realize what you’re getting into, yes?”

Squeezing her sides, he pressed a kiss to her nose, a soft touch that pulled a quiet noise from her. “You’ll drive me mad every day with your incapable magical skills. Your penchant for chaos is second only to the kindness in your heart. I… do not deserve your devotion, but I’m asking for it. Please, marry me.”

Juniper laughed again, louder and slightly manic, but she finally met his gaze. And the only thing he saw reflected back at him was the same love he felt. “I promise I will drive you crazy for the rest of your life, Rolan. If you think you can handle that?”

A challenge that he’d gladly take. “Try your worst.”

Her mouth was on his again, arms squeezing him closer until he could barely breathe. And he couldn’t help, but to think that it was perfect.

#my writing #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 tav #tiefling #bard tav #tav x rolan #rolan x tav #tav: juniper #juniper x rolan