IMPRINT | Dan Heng X Gn!reader

IMPRINT | dan heng x gn!reader

They say that moles are spots where your lover liked to kiss you in your past life. As Dan Heng is your lover in your current life, you can't help but suggest that the previous Yinyue Jun might be responsible for the mole on your inner thigh. (Or: You learn that Dan Heng hates the idea that he might have known you in his past life.)

3k words of fluff, comedy, some nsft. features an established relationship and imbibitor lunae cuddles. past renfeng is mentioned (dh is not a fan of df's choice in spouses). cultural/TL/lore notes at the end. nsft tags: monsterfucking (mostly offscreen), afab reader, onscreen explicit foreplay. dividers by @/cafekitsune. thank you to yyj anon for the hilarious idea!

Dan Heng has, in his true form, a small beauty mark on his throat.

You can see it now, pressed up against him in bed—your head resting on his shoulder, your bare legs tangled up with his, your whole body wrapped up in the furnace-like heat of his form. Azure scales glide along your skin as his tail curls around your waist, settling lazily against your thigh. You can feel a strange vibration coming from his vocal chords, from his chest—quiet, rhythmic, a sign of his complete ease. Whenever you reach over and run your fingers through his hair, he closes his eyes and the thrum from his throat grows stronger.

(Yes—it turns out that the great Imbibitor Lunae can purr. Dan Heng was mortified when the two of you first discovered this fact, but you've since reassured him that it is objectively the best part of his transformation.)

Ordinarily, Dan Heng isn't so clingy. It's only when he decides to couple with you in this form—something he generally avoids, given the… complications relating to his anatomy and stamina—that he ends up entwining himself with you afterwards. His expression always remains as neutral and unbothered as ever, so you think it must not be a conscious behaviour. (In fact, Dan Heng's face is so thin that he'd probably disintegrate if he ever noticed himself doing this.) Possibly it's an instinct that comes with his draconic features, just like his habit of nipping at your throat during intimate moments, or flicking his tail when agitated.

Normally, you'd be happy to bask quietly in his affections, but you're too distracted today. You keep staring at that tiny mole on the smooth, white-jade slope of his neck. It's placed right on the spot where you most like to kiss him, impossible to miss.

It isn't there when he wears his human disguise. You're very sure of this fact, because you're an avid fan of leaving marks on his neck, no matter which form he's in. (This behaviour is much to his chagrin. It's not like anyone will notice, you always need to reassure him. You always wear turtlenecks or high collars. Be careful about that chest window, though…) It's only natural that you'd notice such a detail.

You reason to yourself that there's no significance to this beauty mark. Plenty of Dan Heng's features arbitrarily change between forms—including his height, and even his makeup—but it gets you thinking about what it could mean. Particularly, you keep thinking about that myth claiming that moles mark the spots where your lovers kissed you in your past life.

You wonder about who'd have been kissing him, in his past life as Dan Feng—or who'd have been kissing you, whoever you were in your past life.

Of course, you were probably a total random in your previous lives. You definitely weren't getting kissed up on by any High Elders of the Luofu, nor were you leaving any hickies on their necks—or at least, you weren't doing that to Dan Feng, given that the intergalactic criminal trying to kill your boyfriend is actually the ex-husband of the previous Yinyue Jun. (Ever since this revelation, you have promised Dan Heng that you will never attempt to murder him, no matter how badly your relationship might someday implode.) But you'll take any opportunity to tease Dan Heng, and the perfect opportunity is before you now.

"Gege," you say, trying and failing to hide the mischief in your voice. He opens his eyes. His expression is still calm, but the slight arch to his brow betrays his wariness.

"Hm?"

"I'm curious about something."

"I can tell," he says. "What are you thinking about?"

You hum in a pondering tone. "Well, I know you don't like to think about your past," you begin, and you can feel his tail curling, "but I wonder if we knew each other at all in your previous life?"

Dan Heng studies you carefully. "I don't know. I try not to remember too much of Dan Feng's life, and it's hard to understand what I do recall. But you already know that." He tilts his head. "You've never asked about him before. Why are you suddenly so curious?"

"Well… you know what they say about moles?"

He gives you a blank stare. "That you should monitor them carefully for changes, in case of skin cancer?"

You snort. "No, not that! Or, I mean, that's true, and I hope you're doing that—but it's not what I'm thinking of!"

The corner of his mouth lifts very, very subtly. "Then what are you thinking of?"

"How they say that moles exist wherever your lover kissed you most in your past life. You've heard that, right?"

"Yes—it's an old wives' tale," he dismisses. "My species would have noticed it if there were any truth to that myth."

You frown. "You sure? Because"—you pull back just so you can tap gently at the mark on his neck—"you've got a mole right here when you're in this form. And I love to kiss your neck, Heng'er."

"I've noticed," he says dryly, with a distinctly long-suffering tone, making you grin.

"Then don't you think I could have given this to you?" you try again, but he shakes his head.

"It's not uncommon for Vidyadharas to mate across lifetimes, and in those cases, it's not unusual to record details about their lovers' various incarnations," he explains evenly. "Someone would have noticed it if this saying about moles were true. So I can guarantee that this was not left by any of Dan Feng's lovers."

A sour expression flits across Dan Heng's face. You recognize it as the exact look he wore when he pelted his jade belt piece into the vacuum of space—something he'd done as soon as he realised its origins. (Would you keep a wedding band from a divorced spouse? he'd asked flatly, when you bemoaned its loss. No? Well, it's the same idea with the jade token. If you also happen to have an ex-husband trying to kill you, please be sure to get rid of your ring as well—you are not allowed to wear it.)

Trying not to laugh, you sit up and kiss his temple in an attempt to distract him.

"Okay," you concede. "So the beauty mark thing doesn't apply to Vidyadharas. But what about humans?"

Dan Heng falters. "...I don't know. There's no way for us to tell. Humans on the Luofu far outlive the length of the average Vidyadhara's rebirth cycle. And it is very difficult to identify a human's reincarnation, as your species will change faces and birthplaces between lifetimes." He gives you a long look, strangely unreadable. "...why do you ask?"

"Well," you say smartly, "if you wouldn't recognize me across lifetimes anyway—isn't it true that I could have been one of your past lovers?"

"...the chances are slim, but"—his tail flicks—"yes, I suppose you could have been one of Dan Feng's lovers. In theory."

You pull away from him, careful to let him get a good look at your body laid out on the bed. You catch Dan Heng's eyes wandering, his gaze all over your bare skin. Maybe studying the moles scattered across your body, or maybe he's focusing on the ones on your chest, or maybe he's thinking about the one on your inner thigh.

You point at the one that rests right above your heart.

"Then—if it's possible that I was one of Dan Feng's lovers, and if it's possible that the beauty mark thing is true for humans—isn't it also possible that Dan Feng gave some of these to me?"

"..."

Dan Heng studies you with a complicated expression. You can hear his jaw click before he points out, "That's a lot of ifs."

"I'd believe it," you say. "I mean—you've seen the one on my thigh, right? It makes sense that you'd have given that to me. I'm sure that Gege loved eating pussy in every single li—mmph!"

Dan Heng's thrown his hand over your mouth. 'Tired' doesn't even begin to describe his expression.

"I do not want to think about what Dan Feng's preferences were in bed."

You wrestle his hand away from your face for the express purpose of saying, "Why not? Aren't you curious? Like, do you think Yinyue Jun got as nasty as you do when you're in this form? What do you think he liked to do with his second—"

You lose your speaking privileges again.

Dan Heng ignores your muffled whining as he rolls his eyes. You don't even know why he's so bothered by this joke—he's the one who spent the entire day fucking you in ways you simply didn't even think were possible before you met him! (All thanks to the unique anatomy and stamina of his original form, for which you'll always be grateful to Aeon Long.) You try to convey all this through an indignant stare, but he doesn't relent. Eventually, you give up on struggling.

Curiously, Dan Heng takes this opportunity (i.e., a moment in which you are finally quiet) to study you. His hair curtains around your face as he leans over you, his gleaming eyes heavy with contemplation. Noticing the intensity of his gaze, you give him a questioning look.

When he finally pulls his hand away, you ask, "Is something wrong, Heng'er?"

"Not exactly." He's still watching you. "I only realised—I don't think we knew each other.

You stare blankly. "What?"

"I don't think we knew each other in our past lives."

You raise a brow, giving him a funny look.

"So unromantic," you complain. "What, Gege—you don't think our love is fated?"

Another eyeroll. But this time, rather than putting a palm over your mouth, Dan Heng rests his hand against your cheek instead. You blink at the feeling of his thumb running over your cheekbone.

"It's not that," he says. His voice is gentler now. "I just don't think Dan Feng would have had such a sad ending to his life, had you been in it."

"...oh." You open your mouth, but for once, you have no witty remark. Your face feels a little warm when you ask, "Really?"

"Yes, really." You think you catch a hint of fondness in his otherwise plain, unaffected voice. "And anyway—fate has nothing to do with my feelings for you. I chose you in this lifetime of my own accord, and I will spend this lifetime with you of my own accord. Destiny will never have any bearing on the path I wish to walk with you."

You swallow, staring at his eyes. They're painfully earnest. It's making it hard for you to think, though you can't bring yourself to look away.

"...how can you be so sure?" is all you can ask.

"Because my life until now has been controlled by Dan Feng's sins," he says simply, "but I refuse to let the stain of his karma touch my future with you."

You go quiet at that.

Dan Heng is never one to talk about his own suffering. Even when describing the cruelest of punishments he'd inherited from the former Yinyue Jun, he uses unfeeling terms, not ones of complaint. Control, stain, touch—you've never heard such painful language before.

You wonder, for a second, if you went a little too far with your teasing about his past incarnation, for him to speak in such a way. But by the time you've found the words to apologise, Dan Heng's expression has become wry.

"So please," he adds dryly, "don't make me think of what Dan Feng could or couldn't have been doing in bed with you. I already resent him enough."

"...wait," you realise, "are you jealous when you think about me having sex with Dan Feng?"

He clears his throat, looking away. "Not exactly jealous"—he's definitely jealous—"but I personally feel that he would not have deserved to kiss any part of your body, let alone leave his mark on it." He frowns. "And in any case, I just don't like the idea that he has anything to do with our relationship."

"But…" Your mouth opens and closes. "But why? He was technically just you."

"In theory, perhaps. But in practice, we are still different people." His tail settles down again, wrapping around your thigh. "I intend to be born into my next life holding a jade token I chose with you. Not one chosen by Dan Feng."

You are rendered speechless.

Your reserved boyfriend, who can't even hold your hand in public without feeling embarrassed, is casually professing his intent to love you across lifetimes with lines that sound plagiarized from a Xianzhou period drama. You don't know what to say, and you don't know what to do. Maybe you want to scream. Maybe you want to kiss him. Definitely you want to blow all your credits on a pair of luxury jade tokens tomorrow morning, one for each of you. You'll vow to never throw yours out, even if for some reason his next incarnation should try to murder you. You'll make it work somehow.

But—you also find it insanely funny that he can't stand the idea of Dan Feng fucking you. You definitely want to tease him a little more before running out to get any jewellery for him.

"That's very sweet, Heng'er," you start, "but has it occurred to you that if Dan Feng didn't kiss me in these places, then someone else did?"

Dan Heng freezes.

"Someone else would have kissed me here"—you tap the mole over your heart again—"and also here"—closer to the peak of your breast, now—"and here"—further down, on your waist—"and also…"

Before you can spread your thighs and brush your fingers against the mark there, Dan Heng grabs your wrist. His slit pupils are dilated, his tail is flicking, and his purrs have turned into a sharp huff—one accompanied by an expression of deep annoyance.

"I guess you don't like thinking about that either?" you ask, smiling, and Dan Heng chooses not to respond. He simply narrows his eyes—and lowers his head.

You smile when you feel his fangs on your neck. Too easy, you think. He lingers on your pulse, lips brushing it as much as his teeth are, before moving further down.

He places a kiss over your heart, first. Then a trail of them, his breath tickling the skin of your chest. You blink when you feel his hands running along your sides and lingering on your curves, making you acutely aware of his intentions.

"Wait—are we starting another round because of what I said?" you ask, trying not to laugh. "I had no idea you had such a jealous streak in you, Heng'er."

Dan Heng still doesn't reply. He merely replaces his lips with his tongue—and then your smile fades.

The heat of his mouth on you is distracting. Makes your brows knot as his tongue swirls around a nipple, as his breath fans across it. His teeth graze it, too—teasing and a little mean, with how he doesn't give you a break. You're squirming beneath him soon, tugging at his hair, grasping his horns—Wait, wait, I'm too sensitive—but from the way he inhales sharply at your touch, you know you're only encouraging him.

He moves down to your navel. Presses his lips to your skin—peppers your waist with butterfly kisses. His hands slip to your thighs as his mouth trails its way down, parting your legs as he settles between them. Your breath hitches as his fingers touch your entrance, spreading you open. You're still sensitive from all the things he did to you earlier—from how he had you stretched out and panting underneath him, stuffed so full that you could hardly think as you came. From how he fucked you like that again, and again, and again, until you were on the verge of tears from how many times you'd cum—because Dan Heng finds it impossible to stop whenever he's in this form.

But even as sore as you are, you can feel yourself clenching around nothing right now, eager to have him inside you again. You shiver as his breath blows over your aching clit.

"Don't tease me," you whine.

"After all the teasing you put me through?" He sounds unimpressed. "No, I think I'll take my time. It's only fair."

"Gege, I was only joking. You said it yourself: it's only an old wives' tale! I'm sure no one was kissing me on the—ah…"

Your voice clips off into a whimper. Dan Heng is running a finger along your slit, and you feel yourself his spend from earlier leaking out from you. It's hot and it's thick, a mess running all the way down to the sheets beneath you, and there's so much of it. He just spent the whole day filling you up, after all—and you have no doubt that he wants to spend his night the same way.

(Really, you owe so much to the Aeon of Permanence. You'd worship Long if he were still around—may he rest in peace.)

You watch as he studies you, his eyes keen and pupils blown. His gaze lingers on a particular spot on your thigh—and it suddenly occurs to you that he's been kissing all your moles.

"Dan Heng," you breathe, halfway to a laugh, "what exactly are you trying to do?"

He glances up at you, arching a brow.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm making sure that any marks you have in the future will be from no one but me."

Dan Heng's gleaming eyes are set on your beauty mark. He places a soft kiss on it, and he almost sounds amused when he speaks again:

"I'll especially like looking at this one again in your next life."

END

lost my mind from stress this week so I cranked this out rip I hope you all enjoyed!! please leave a note if you did!!

some notes about lore details:

not sure if everyone is caught up to 1.2 content (I'm not lol), so I'll note here that the "jade tokens" being mentioned = Vidyadhara practice of taking matching jade tokens into their hatching rebirth, so they can find each other in their next lives

the relic lore for the passerby of wandering cloud bracer in chinese heavily implies that yingxing and dan feng were either engaged or married. it makes sense when you consider that dan heng and blade wear matching jade buckles. people theorize that these are jade tokens from their lifetime as lovers – hence that whole bit in this fic about dan heng throwing out his jade token 😭

cultural/TL notes:

gege is a term meaning "older brother", though it is often used for non-familial relationships that are very close; it can come off as either flirty or childish. heng'er is a diminutive of dan heng's name.

chinese language has a few different concepts/words for the idea of fate/destiny. the one that dh and mc discuss in this fic is the notion that your relationship with someone in this lifetime will go on to determine the nature of your relationship with them in the next one (缘分, this idea applies to all relationships but includes romantic ones). I tried my best to convey this idea in the dialogue for those reading without that cultural context, but quite honestly I feel like I failed LMAO and thus... you are getting this note.

I also want to clarify that 缘分 is not affected by karma in the Buddhist sense, even though I used the term "karma" within the discussion about fate/destiny; 缘分 is not a Buddhist concept. (the reason that I had dan heng refer to dan feng's "karma" is simply a play on the chinese term for "sins" used to describe dan feng's crimes, 罪业，which can have Buddhist connotations.)

other notes:

while I left the reader's backstory vague (so that you may interpret them however you want), I wrote this with tanghulu mc in mind, because that's who the original anon ask discussed!

yyj peg anon if you are reading this: I apologize for how deeply I botched your idea LMAOAOA this got heavily derailed from the basic prompt of teasing dan heng 😭 what 1.2 will do to a mf…

thank you to the 80% of people who agreed that danheng IL should purr in this fic. i truly do not think that he would exhibit particularly animalistic behaviours in his original form, but, listen........ I wasn't writing this with my brain.

I'm sorry that there was no tonal cohesion in this fic. we really went from dragon cuddles to bullying danheng to existential discussions of fate to monsterfucking foreplay. as I said above........ I wasn't writing this with my brain

Spellbound Shackles (Sylas/Reader)

Sorry for the many delays on this one, but I powered through to get this edited and up today! As per my usual with these, there is smut in this one, so people are warned!

—-

“You’re a demon!” the frightened woman screamed, scrambling to grasp at the stone wall behind her to pull herself up from the ground.

“Submit to custody or I will be forced to restrain you,” you ordered, voice cold as ice.

“You’re a monster!” she screeched, eyes darting around, but no escape was to be found in the dead end alley. “Are you even human?”

You didn’t reply, only stared at her, watching for any signs of the fight you knew would be coming. You saw it in her eyes first, then in her fingers, twitching as she readied a blast of magic to try and hurtle your way to allow her a chance to escape your pursuit.

But she didn’t have the experience that you had. The second her fingers twitched, you sent a blast of ice her way, quickly pinning her hands to the wall behind her, those twitching fingers now encased in thick ice. Struggle as she may, her flight had now been ended.

Continuar lendo

every 6-8 months my marauders era obsession comes back.

its literally the only consistent thing in my life...

a/n: my astarion brain rot has produced a thing. i've finally obsessed over this stupid scene to the point where i regurgitated this. have fun becos i certainly didn't

warning: allusions to spoilers, allusions to a lot of astarion's scenes, spoilers okay there's spoilers, mentions of mistreatment by others, no names or pronouns but this is my blind tiefling ranger oc, still in second person reader insert point of view though LOL

You sat almost stock still, your eyes looking like they were staring thoughtfully into the bonfire but, in reality, you saw only darkness. Your tiefling ears, though, heard everything. They twitched as you took stock of where everyone was.

Your bear familiar laid beside you, his fur brushing against your side, his head pressed to the outside of your thigh. You could hear the ever present grinding of Lae'zel as she sharpened her weapons for the dozenth time. You couldn't hear Shadowheart but she meditated so often that it was common not to know.

Wyll was somewhere near his tent, rifling through his things, preparing for the journey ahead. Gale was looking at himself using magic.

Of course, all of that didn't seem to matter because Astarion, as always, sat silently beside you, his calloused fingers making pleasant sounds against the parchment of the book he was leafing through.

"Astarion," you called out, your own hand still laid atop your bear's sleeping head "Can I ask you for a favor?"

Astarion stopped flicking through the book in his lap to hum, his red eyes darting to you in suspicion. "And what would your favor be, darling?"

You wouldn't have been able to tell, of course, seeing as you couldn't see, but he looked at you with a doubt that could only come from people who've been burned by others too much.

When he had hummed, you turned your head to face him, the jewels hanging from your horns twinkling. Your eyes were unseeing but Astarion always felt slightly unnerved by how it felt like they were staring straight into him.

Your hands lifted into the air, poised as if you were cupping some invisible thing in between them "Can I touch your face?"

Astarion was definitely taken aback. He even flinched a little, eyebrows scrunching, mind reeling.

You were asking to touch his face?

When you didn't hear a response, you smiled almost sadly, a pitying chuckle leaving your lips "Sorry, i-it's fine if it makes you uncomfortable. You don't have to. I know some people react badly when I ask."

"It's just. I'm able to find my way around through the noise and my other senses but I've never been able to put physical features to all of your names and voices." You explained, fingers curling a little, hesitating, hovering as if you weren't sure you could convince him "But out of everyone, I've especially wanted to know the face behind your melodic voice."

That didn't end up clarifying anything for Astarion.

First of all, though he'd been through his share of flattery and praise, he'd never heard his voice described as melodic before.

Second, he'd never told anyone but even he didn't know what he looked like. Astarion had a mirror he'd carry with him, something to peer into with desperation, but he always saw the same thing he'd always see: nothing.

That was, maybe, where his hesitation came from. He didn't know how monstrous he looked as a vampire.

Not hideous, of course. He knew he was handsome because he'd been able to lure many a woman and even a few men to their demises. No, he feared he looked monstrous the same way Cazzador looked monstrous; more than beautiful enough but always the cruelty bled through and revealed itself.

Still, Astarion couldn't find it in himself to deny you. You, who so graciously defended him against all the others in your little group. You, who bled for him every night and still looked at him like he had some humanity left in him. You, who intrigued him at every step.

"Perhaps you can tell me what I look like then." He decided to joke in that same pompous tone he used when he felt a bit too vulnerable "I haven't been able to see myself in hundreds of years."

You frowned at that but your expression immediately turned to one of curiosity "Really?"

"Astarion nodded before moving to place his face into your hands.

Your hands were almost unbearably warm against his almost chilling skin, your claws, as long as his, brushing against the apples of his cheeks.

As soon as you realised his face was in your hands, your face scrunched into an expression of concentration.

First, you brushed your thumbs over his skin, under his eyes, to his cheeks, up to his temples. You looked contemplating, like you really were forming a picture in your mind.

"Well, you have very nice laugh lines." You smiled, gently, sweetly, in a way that made Astarion's undead heart almost beat.

"Preposterous. I'm a vampire, not your homely grandmother. I do not age." He answered you, rolling his eyes, and you could feel the way his expression contorted into an exasperated one underneath your very hands.

You just laughed "I like it. You know, you sound very handsome when you laugh."

Another exasperated noise but you ignored it in favour of brushing your thumbs over his eyebrows "I can tell you furrow your eyebrows often."

"You can tell something like that?" Astarion sounded disbelieving.

You nodded "I lived in Baldur's Gate but we didn't have a home really. We moved from place to place. But I had my own little ragtag family and they would let me practice on their faces; they'd let me touch as they laughed and smiled and grew angry or sad."

Astarion almost wanted to ask you to continue but, from your expression, he felt as if it wasn't the time or place.

"My mother always fretted over everyone; she'd have wrinkles right here because she furrowed her eyebrows so much." You pressed in between Astarion's eyebrows, thumb running over it as if trying to flatten away his worries, before moving back to the corners of his eyes "And whenever my friend smiled, her eyes would upturn right here."

"I bet you look gorgeous smiling, Astarion."

Then, you moved on, moving back down his face, down to his lips. You traced the corners of his mouth, feeling for something that Astarion couldn't understand.

All of it was beyond Astarion's comprehension. He wasn't a stranger to compliments but it felt like yours reached somewhere deep inside him and brought it peace.

Something about it all both tranquilized him and unnerved him all the same.

"You must smirk a lot. I bet you look boyishly handsome when you do. Your voice always sounded so mischievous to me." You huffed, sounding jokingly tired of his antics before running your left thumb over his lips, feeling both the softness and the roughness of it under your fingertip "And you bite your lips a lot. I can feel the scars of it. Though I doubt it would be noticeable to anyone else. Your lips are soft either way. It's a very pretty shape."

Astarion recalled all the countless nights of him biting away cries of pain, cries of agony, the way he'd always bite his lip in frustration and anger. Nobody had ever noticed that, not until you, and it felt like sharing a secret.

Then, as suddenly as your request had come, you pulled away, that gentle touch that soothed a part of Astarion gone as soon as it had been offered.

"Sorry." You looked sheepish, embarrassed "I know a lot of people don't like others touching their face, especially a Tiefling."

Before you could truly pull away though, Astarion pulled your hands back to his face, sandwiching them in between his cold calloused palms and the soft chill of his cheeks.

"It's fine, darling, I don't care." He tried to build his walls back up and, at the same time, let you in "I, for one, always welcome compliments, no matter what the type."

Your thumbs hesitantly, slowly, reached his eyes. You felt his eyelashes flutter close before you were feeling his eyelids, velveteen and twitching. Your thumbs mapped over it, over the shape and the dips of his eyes.

"What color are your eyes?" Your thumbs moved on, again feeling the corners of his eyes, brushing over them in circles as if comforting Astarion somewhat.

"Red, like any vampire's." Astarion answered easily enough, swallowing down a memory of Cazzador's striking red eyes.

"I can tell they're very kind; sharp around the corners but round everywhere else. I bet your stare is very enchanting." You laughed a little in that breathy tinkling way you always did.

Astarion frowned a little, still disbelieving, unable to accept words like 'kind' to describe him.

Then, finally, your hands moved away from his face entirely, your fingers suddenly combing through his hair, feeling it in between your fingers and with your very fingertips "Oh, you have such curly hair!"

"It used to be something else, I think." He tried to recall but quickly grew frustrated when the information didn't come easily "But now it's white."

"Oh, Astarion." You sighed, hands finally coming out of his hair to cup his cheeks "You're so handsome. I'm so glad to finally know what you look like."

Astarion nodded, trying to brush your painfully sincere words off but, instead, they struck him, buried deep inside him.

If you felt a slight bit of wetness in the corners of his eyes, you didn't mention it.

ೃ⁀➷ DAYLIGHT ROBBERY

Gepard x Gn!Reader

Sypnosis : A renowned thief of Belobog. That’s what you were. What people didn’t know was that you actually did it for a good cause, yet they were too clouded by their sense of judgement to even think of your reason behind this. Seems a certain blonde haired Captain was no different. At each and every turn he is always there, yet at each and every turn you managed to wriggle your way out of his grasp. Whilst it visibly annoyed him, you were also unaware of the fact he appreciated a challenge. And if a challenge meant having to keep an extra eye on you at all times, well. He’d be willing to swim with sharks to do so…

WC : 1.9k

Warnings : None! The reader is a bit playful, you’ll see what I mean and there is a hint of a little crush between the two but not confirmed. Bit of Sampo is mentioned. Kind of fools in love..? Might make a part 2, only if requested to. Also, I made a minor modification, this takes place before the Stellaron was “defeated” so when the Overworld and Underworld were not yet connected.

Read part 1 || part 2 || part 2.5 || part 3

Virtuous. That was certainly one word used to describe yourself. Well, a word that people of the Overworld would use to describe you. For context, you were not a citizen of the Underworld, far from in fact. Instead, you were merely an above average person who roamed the Belobog streets. That’s what many others would say about you at a first glance and to be truthful, they were not necessarily wrong.

But they were not necessarily right either. As an Overworld being, you had privilege compared to more than average, which is why you were recognisable from a glance. While you were not really nobility per se, you were certainly rich. Your parents were involved with Cocolia quite a fair amount. They had worked underneath her wing for as long as even they could remember as she helped them climb the ranks. However, the higher they progressed, the less attention that was given to you became more frequent.

So you would typically expect for a child of such high classed parents to have strong beliefs against the Underworld and stay in that richie-rich bubble, would you not? Well, you can guess where this is leading up to. Of course you weren’t. Whilst you did grow up in luxury, many stories of the Underworldians were simply hard to believe in your eyes. So once you managed to get involved with a certain woman, who strangely enough looked quite manly and had blue-ish hair, that woman had led you down the furnace core towards the lower part of the city. Strangely enough, she had disappeared the second you stepped onto the dark slate flooring which left you to explore the place yourself.

And after delving deeper into the rumoured horror town, you had managed to learn that everything here was in fact, well, much better than that. Although a few scowls were given towards you, you were determined to learn more about the place. That was about a few months ago. Now you sat here with the children of Boulder Town as you played a game of Hide and Seek with them.

Now some people may think, what about your parents, your friends up above? Your parents were too busy to really pay attention to you which caused your early maturity. And most of your friends up above were bland and almost snobby sometimes. Apart from a few exceptions. But now you have grown to love the Underworldians more than anything, almost like family.

Which is what led to where you were today.

You were currently sat in a dainty little café, fairly hidden from the central area of Belobog. You sat with a cup of warm coffee on a small plate as you threw one of your legs to cross over the other. You flickered your gaze around the place discreetly before hearing a buzz from your pocket. Quickly fishing out the said device, you brought the phone up to your ear as you took a sip of the nearby liquid.

“You ready?” Asked a somewhat sneaky voice on the other end of the line. After gently removing the cup from your lips and placing it down, you stood up and plucked your bag from your chair and slung it across your torso.

“When am I not?” You answered, almost as teasing as the other voice. The line gets cut off as you place the phone into a secure pocket. All of a sudden, an object rolling on the floor could be heard as a few citizens turned their heads. Before anyone could register what was happening, you placed a mask onto your face as the object then exploded into a cloud of smoke.

The few people began panicking and threw themselves to the floor, covering their noses and coughing their lungs up. Your shoes clacked against the tiles, but the sound was blocked out by the terrified wails of everyone else. Quietly, you managed to make your way behind the counter after seeing the cashier make a run for it outside. You began reaching up and stuffing everything that could fit into the large bag.

Whether that be cartons of milk, as many pastries as possible, simple coffee beans, sandwiches. Quite literally anything and everything. This was all to feed the Underworldians. You would do almost anything to give those people the treatment they deserved from the beginning. But once the smoke was visibly dying down, you leaped over the counter and made a run for it, clutching the strap of the bag as tightly as humanly possible. You did your best to blend in with the few citizens who were also bolting away. As you were about to exit the door, you suddenly collided with a metal material.

Rubbing your head as you stumbled back slightly, your eyes trailed up, only to spot the Captain of the Silvermane Guards standing right there in the flesh.

Great, fantastic even! You thought to yourself. See, the Captain, Gepard, and yourself were not to be considered friends. Like, at all. If anything, people could call you arch enemies. You were a wanted criminal in the Silvermane books, which only made Gepard keep his eyes peeled for you even more. He never knew who you really were, thanks to you wearing a mask at each “incident”. But you knew he hated your guts, he hated anyone who went against the laws that Belobog had created. And of course, stealing was one of the top 3. So just to tick him off even more, you had grown aware that he disliked humorous remarks made in serious situations. Which had led to you constantly teasing him during your meet-ups.

“Captain! So great to see you again. Can I interest you in our wide range of coffees?” You questioned the shockingly tall man in an innocent sounding voice as you gestured towards the menu. Before you could make another remark, he raised his weapon, which strangely enough seemed to be a guitar case, towards you, causing you to put your hands up and beside your head as you grew a shocked expression.

“This ends now, thief. Hand over every stolen item in that bag of yours, and I will bring you to the cell in which you belong,” The blonde haired man stated in a firm voice. He stood tall and straight, emphasising his superiority to you. You frowned as you placed your hand on your heart before speaking in a solemn tone.

“And here I thought we were good friends Captain Gepard. I expected better from you,” You replied as you wiped a fake tear from your eyes. He did not react and simply held the case higher towards your head.

“I do not have time for your games. Hand over the goods and do not make this difficult,” He spoke in that annoyingly firm and unwavering voice again. Rolling your eyes, you reached into the bag as you began to fish out one of the boxed up pastries before you paused.

“Hey Captain, you know what my favourite part of this job is?” You asked with a raised eyebrow. He merely breathed in response. You slowly took out the pastry and walked towards him as he became cautious of your movements. Time and time again, you had slipped from his grasp, but not anymore. Today would be the day where the newspaper would have a big flashy headline of your defeat. He kept the case close to him and gripped it tightly as you came closer.

Still holding the plastic box, you held it in front of you, as if offering the pastry to him with a bright smile. The captain just stared at the box, then you, and then at the box again. He made no move to open it or to smack it away. Letting out a slight huff of frustration, you began to open the box yourself.

“Always have to do everything by myself huh? Well no matter, it’s just a pastry. This is my favourite bit of the job you know, giving my one and only Captain the pastry he deserves for his hard work,” Your smile was now sickly sweet as he became more weary by the second.

“Stop with your nonsense. You’re coming with me,” He began making his way towards you as he pulled out a pair of handcuffs. You took the “you’re coming with me” as a proposal for a date and used that as mockery just to tick him off a little more.

“Such a shame, you just asked me out and here I have to miss our first date I guess. No hard feelings though,” You replied with a tone that feigned sadness and sorrow. Just as he was coming closer, the box began to rattle more.

And before the Captain could react to the shaking plastic, the pastry, which was supposedly a small piece of strawberry shortcake, blew up. Yep, a bomb encased in soft clay. But the smoke was not normal this time, no. It was sleeping gas, as the Captain had now begun to realise due to the effects.

His eyes slowly began to drift shut as his body became limp. He stood his ground as best he could but it was futile against the extremely strong substance. Eventually, he dropped the case and only held the handcuffs in one hand as he fell to his knee. He was breathing heavily which was a sight to see in itself. You raised your eyebrows momentarily at the sight in front of you. Well, he had his looks going for him that’s for sure.

Finally, the handcuffs fell from his hand as he propped himself up with one hand. The smoke encased the both of you, thankfully you were unaffected due to the mask planted securely onto your nose and mouth. But you kneeled down slightly and grabbed the Captain’s face in your hand as you forced him to look up at you. You let out a tut before speaking.

“So sad it has to be this way. I’ve certainly enjoyed getting to see you in such a state though, I must say Gepard. But i’ve bested you yet again dear, and it will always be that way. Don’t forget me now,” You practically whispered to him before leaving a mocking peck onto his cheek through the mask. Even more mockery. You weren’t even sure if he was fully registering your words as he seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness.

You grabbed the handcuffs and brung his wrists together before tightly screwing the handcuffs onto them, leaving him defenceless, on his knees as he finally fell to the ground, blonde tussle of hair all over the place as the metal clanked.

This should certainly be a present for the rookies to find. You thought again. Suddenly, the sounds of footsteps against the stone pavement were evident as you swiftly ran out of the back door but not before taking one more glance at Gepard. Maybe one day he would catch you. But you knew for sure, it would not be any time soon…

Unbeknownst to you, during your little interaction with the Captain, he was still conscious enough to feel the material of your mask against his pristine skin, which only left him more flustered than he already felt in your annoyingly teasing presence. Safe to say, something would be clouding Gepard’s mind for a while, and it wasn’t the sleeping gas around him…

Author’s Note: Please please feel free to leave any requests as I would love to write all of your imagines and make you as happy as possible with them! Anyways, whoopee, my first fanfic actually posted. And of course it has to be with my favourite Belobog man. He’s just so idek how to explain it. I love my light haired men like, it’s indescribable how much I do. There’s just that element to them yk? Anyways, I seriously hope you enjoyed this and feel free to leave any requests at my front door!

Targaryen! Y/n watching the dinner brawl as if it were a bar fight: