#(she is the first one to realize she fell in love with all companions but the last one to join the poly because she got THEM together but

[bardofbaldur]

The previous Era post is just so I can explain that yes Era is very much dreaming of kissing the daylights out of the nerd wizard but she is too 👉👈 about it while in the Weave so she is just- jus-just thinking about h-holding -h-hand-hands 👉👈 😳

[bg-brainrot]

Failed Every Insight Check and Fell all the Harder (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Companion piece to: Failed a Dex Save and Fell for You

Summary: After a few months of traveling together, Astarion has begun to experience some new feelings around you. After one fateful day in Moonrise Towers, he finally figures out what those feelings are.

Tags: Astarion POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Awkward Fluff, tw: mentions of astarion's past and all that comes with it, tw: mentions of araj scene, Feelings Realization, Jealousy

A/N: here comes the awkward, fluffy Astarion figuring out his feelings Valentine’s special. He’s a hot mess, of course. (happy Early Valentine’s because I will be busy on Valentine’s) And thanks to everyone who voted for this one!

Word count: ~4.8k

Ever since your group entered the Shadowlands, something has been bothering Astarion. He hadn't noticed at first– or rather, had tried his best to ignore it. But, as time goes on, he’s finding it more and more difficult to brush aside.

It had started out small. An odd pain in the pit of his stomach.

What was that? he'd thought, holding a hand to his abdomen in concern. Perhaps he was just hungry, but it certainly didn’t feel like the ever-present hunger in his belly. No, that was a dull, continuous ache. This? This felt like something was weighing him down. Maybe I’m ill. I shouldn’t mention it to anyone, lest Lae’zel slit my throat in my sleep.

Besides, the pain didn’t happen often. He noticed it a distinct few times.

Once, when you first entered the Shadowlands. He’d just watched you bend down, hands plucking at something off the side of the cursed lands’ road. He thought momentarily that he ought to stop you, that none of you knew what could be lurking in its magical darkness. But that tinge of worry was promptly replaced by that same gods awful pit in his stomach. 

Because there you were, presenting your party’s cleric with your spoils. You were gifting Shadowheart a night orchid– had remembered that she mentioned loving them. You bore the woman’s wretched joke with a smile. Disgusting, Astarion thought. No wonder my stomach feels uncomfortable, what a pathetic little exchange.

Like everything that had bothered him in the last couple of months since finding himself free of Cazador, he decided to forget the feeling. Life is his to take full advantage now, why let something like that affect him?

Or so he thought until the next time the feeling made its return.

You had just arrived at the Last Light Inn as a group, found shelter through the Harpers’ well-established safe haven. Astarion was quite happy to be rid of the shadows, content to cozy up in an inn. He figured, if he played his cards right, you may even let him partake in your blood or ask for a bit of fun.

Then your party found Dammon. Equipped with Infernal Iron and one blazing hot barbarian, Dammon made magic happen in a matter of moments. 

Astarion was glad. As much as the group was a bit much at times, he understood Karlach’s struggle with her body all too well. She deserved this small victory in reclaiming her body. 

His feelings of genuine sympathy were short-lived though because a moment later you were wrapping your arms around the tiefling’s body. It was a test, of course, to see if Dammon’s fusing had worked. But there it was again, the feeling in his stomach. This time it felt twice as heavy, a lead ball in his guts. Maybe I should let someone know, he thought. This can’t be good.

But the sensation was soon forgotten as your group settled into the Last Light Inn. Old allies were in some miserable new states– requiring even more help, gods– and new acquaintances were made. It was all rather dull for Astarion.

The one time Astarion perked up was when you went head-to-head with the head Harper. He chuckled under his breath when you outsmarted the old crone, Jaheira. That’s right, Harper. Don’t mess with my protector.

Your first night at the inn was capped off with a bit of revelry: a game of Truth or Dare. 

Astarion could sense your reluctance to play. You’d been acting odd all day, stiff and awkward around him. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to tease you to the high celestial plane– in fact, he already knew what he wanted to ask you. “You are going to regret this so much," he'd said to you from across the table.

Then the game began, and the deep, uncomfortable feeling never left his core.

Each and every companion received your attention throughout the game, in one way or another. Even that damned smith, Dammon, was given a dare from you. And Astarion just sat there, not even earning a glance, his mood growing more and more sour.

When, at last, he was able to taunt you with his question, you were far too in your cups to give a proper response. He sat on your lap, placed there from one of Shadowheart’s dares, staring into your surprised, open eyes, wishing that he'd thought of an easier question for an inebriated version of you.

The group had shooed you both out of the game upon seeing your state, though Astarion didn't mind. He'd much rather leave the lot of them and tease you by himself.

Once you were alone, you answered his question. That he, Astarion, was your favorite and for all manner of incredulous, unbelievable reasons. He’d expected you to say him. He’d asked to hear your praise, confirm your attachment in the name of his plan to seduce you. All the same he was left uncomfortable, juggling the sudden and unabashed flattery. Being praised for his looks was one thing but for being… himself?

The feeling in his stomach grew. Suddenly his lungs felt it, his undead heart felt it. What in the sweet hells is the matter with me? he thought, as he helped lay your drunken, passed out form to bed later that night. He hadn’t felt a sensation like this before– he hated it. 

Then you reached out to him in your sleep, and he froze. Something about the touch quietened the pain under his ribs, and so he extended his fingers, gently touching your brow as you fell asleep. See? I’m fine, he assured himself. I truly am just ravenous.

__

He continued this way for several days in the Shadowcursed lands.

One moment, he was perfectly fine, hacking and slashing at a Shambling Mound with abandon. The next, he would look over at you, see you laughing at something Karlach said, and it felt like an iron ingot had made its way into his insides.

Damned tiefling woman. I’m far funnier than her, you know, he thinks, resheathing his knives with a little too much gusto. The sound of your laughter rang in his head for the rest of the evening, as if he were being driven to insanity by it.

The next day, you had fought a horde of Meazels. At first, Astarion thought the fight was delightful fun– the tiefling woman and the cleric kept getting teleported against their will and after his recent annoyance with both of them, he found it quite amusing. That is, until you found yourself garrotted, teleported as far away from him as possible.

He was on you in mere moments, ripping the creature off of you with his blades. It was almost as if he’d reacted instinctively and, as someone whose instincts typically led him away from danger, he found the sensation quite off-putting. Nevertheless, he'd freed you, asking, “Are you alright, darling?”

Astarion couldn’t remember what you’d even said because once he saw the marks the creatures left on you, the pit in his stomach dropped. Where there had been a heavy pressure before, there was now a sharp feeling. His eyes carefully trailed over your injuries, trying his best to focus on you and not the phantom pain building inside him.

You had been fine, nothing that a quick heal from Shadowheart couldn’t fix, but that feeling stayed in his stomach the rest of the day. It’s simply the Shadowlands, he'd thought. They not only play tricks on the mind, clearly they’re playing tricks on my body.

It was a few days later, as you helped the Harper’s deal with their lantern problem that the sensation shifted again.

Astarion watched, eyes glued to your form, as you dispatched the hideous drider, your twin blades piercing the creature in its most vulnerable spots. He’d seen you kill many monsters before, hundreds likely at this point. But something about the way your body moved in the Moonlantern’s glow, the way your face lit up as the creature’s body crumpled to the floor, caused the vampire to stop and watch.

This time, he’d felt the heavy sensation move up, somewhere just below his throat. He tried against all odds to gulp it away, but nothing seemed to work. We need to finish our business here and get out as soon as possible, he thought now, convinced it was the shadows warping his senses…

But as your travel continues, the feelings never go away. 

It’s a different pressure, it builds, it ebbs, it flows between his heart, his stomach, his torso– and each time he brushes it off. Stewing in these uncomfortable feelings, Astarion spends the week in a hazy mire, not unlike the shadows that surround you all.

Then your group finally infiltrates Moonrise.

__

Moonrise Towers, the seat of the Absolute and a once grand fortress. 

Now, Astarion can’t help but think it seems rather underutilized. Your group is walking along the empty parapets outside, which are woefully missing any sense of grandeur or ornamentation. “Darling,” he says, leaning into you slightly. “Don’t you think we ought to just kill everyone now and take the place for ourselves. Might be quite fun.”

You bark out a laugh, which he feels proud to have produced, and reply, “Maybe later. This is an infiltration mission only. Besides, once we defeat the Absolute, I’m sure there will be a vacancy.”

Astarion laughs back at you. Gods, he enjoys this. The way that he can say something that others would balk at and you will miraculously not only appreciate it, but also play along with it. Having fun with them is so easy, he thinks. And look, I’m still wearing all of my clothes! What a novel idea.

The thought is cut short when your group walks through an outside doorway into a room that can only be described as grotesque. Whoever works here clearly has some knowledge of arcana, if the ingredients and alchemical tools are anything to go by, but it smells utterly foul to Astarion.

It’s when you spot the drow woman hunched over a table in the corner that he realizes where the stench is coming from. Hells below, that woman reeks of something truly awful, he thinks, recoiling. He’d grown used to following behind you closely, but as you step forward to speak to the woman, he finds himself taking a step back instead.

The woman introduces herself as Araj Oblodra, a trader of blood– a rather poor trader, by the smell of it. She takes note of Astarion, who shuffles back instinctively, before you and her go about some kind of business with your blood. Astarion contemplates speaking up, shooing you away from her, but decides to stay back, as far away as he can remain without arousing suspicion. They can handle themselves.

Then, after the woman looks back toward him one too many times, he hears you snap, “And why are you so interested in my pale friend?” 

“Ah, yes. Perhaps there’s one more thing we could discuss,” she begins, her voice a dangerous drawl. “He’s a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn at least.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Astarion says, all-too-ready to fill his role. “We’re all friends under the Absolute. I won’t bite.”

“Oh, I’d prefer if you did,” she’s quick to respond. Her eagerness picks at Astarion’s nerves, and he raises an eyebrow at her. Araj doesn’t deign to give him another moment’s look though, as she turns back to you. “I assume he belongs to you?”

“Excuse me?” Your voice sounds offended– on his behalf, Astarion wonders? “He’s his own person.” Your words cause the feeling in Astarion’s stomach to flip, and, as much as he wants to come to his own defense, he finds himself quite content to hear you do it for him.

“I’m sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable,” she says with a snide chuckle. 

Adorable? he thinks, but he’s unable to interject before the woman continues to barrel forward.

The blood trader turns back to Astarion, face wrinkled with distaste as her tone changes to something a bit more confrontational, “Do you have a name, spawn?”

Her sudden shift in attitude, the proud tilt to her head, it all throws the vampire off balance as he goes to answer, “Astarion, b-but hold on!” Astarion holds up a hand to try to slow this woman’s tirade, all to no avail.

“Good. Now, Astarion, I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl,” Araj begins, laying out the scene for her request.

Too bad that the scene sounds quite ridiculous to Astarion. Surely he heard her incorrectly? “I’m sorry, you want to be bitten?”

The woman goes on a new insane diatribe– something about dancing with death– but Astarion can hardly be bothered. All he needs to know is that she’s offering some measly potion for being bitten and, gods, does he not want to bite this woman’s disgusting neck. Or wrist. Or really any part of her. “I will have to decline,” he says, with a gracious little bow. Your group is still infiltrating the towers, it wouldn’t do to tell Araj exactly how horrid she smells.

It’s entirely more grace than she deserved, that much is clear because she presses him again. Again, he refuses. “I gave you my answer.”

The drow scoffs, turning back to you once more, “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?”

You, for your part, look confused. There’s a line of concern in your forehead as you look between the woman and Astarion, wondering what it is that you’re missing. “I’m surprised, Astarion. I thought you’d enjoy an opportunity like this.”

What?! he thinks, a sudden, sharp spike of anger shooting through him. He tempers his immediate rage and speaks to Araj with that same, false pleasantry she doesn’t deserve, “I’m sorry, but could you excuse us a moment?”

Astarion, not waiting for her response, pulls you aside, away from the drow’s nosy eyes and ears. Once you’re alone, he turns to you, his voice a hiss, “Are you actually asking me to do this? Trading me for some-some-some potion?”

“What’s the matter? Why would she be different from any other enemy?” you ask, leaning toward him.

Your voice is full of genuine worry, and some of his anger abates as he meets your eyes. Of course, they don’t know what they’re asking. How could they know? “Because there’s something wrong with her blood. I can smell it from here. Ugh, it’s rank.”

Now your brows furrow, and a sharp edge enters your eyes as you ask your next question, “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her blood?”

“I can’t say. It just smells… wrong. Unnatural.” His words sound pathetic to his own ears. 

Of course that’s not an excuse, Astarion laments. What am I even thinking? The potion is clearly useful. They are going to make me do this, and I may as well prepare myself. I’ve put up with worse after all.

So, he stands straight once more, ready to put on the performance of a lifetime. His tone takes on a resigned tone as he continues, “Drinking it wouldn’t kill me, but it would not be pleasant.”

You both hear a sigh from behind you. “I don’t have all day, True Soul,” Araj calls, impatiently.

Your eyes remain focused entirely on him, ignoring the woman’s irritated sigh, her entitled words. “Astarion,” you begin, and he takes a breath in preparation for your other foot to drop. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do. And if she refuses to take no for an answer again, we’ll simply have to start our assault on the towers a bit early.”

The breath leaves him.

"Alright. Uh, thank you,” he says, feeling the tension drop from his shoulders. He’d been prepared to acquiesce, to do exactly what you’d asked of him. But this? This is something he hadn’t been prepared for. 

In a daze, Astarion makes his way back to Araj, putting on as polite of a facade as he’s still capable of making, “It's still a ‘no’, I’m afraid.”

“How very disappointing,” the blood trader says, shooting you both a disgusted look. She turns away in a huff, leaving your group alone to recover from the exchange. And leaving Astarion floundering in another new sensation.

Because once more, the feeling in the pit of his stomach has reared its ugly head– only this time it shoots through him like a bolt of lightning. He's not sure what it is, but it's stunned him into slipping off his carefully crafted mask. He turns to you once more, voice soft around its usual edges, "Thank you. I… appreciated that.”

"You have no need to thank me. It was always your choice, Astarion."

Huh.

The feeling sinks into him, settling deeper and deeper as you continue through Moonrise.

__

That night, you go to bed in your own bedroll, leaving Astarion to his meditations with a smile and a wave. It has been a long day for all of you, and it's clear from the way you take a glance back that you're worried about him.

Gods, he's worried about him.

After dealing with that vile drow woman, you'd all continued about the tower, ingratiating yourselves with even the most repugnant of creatures to appear faithful to the Absolute. But Astarion paid attention to almost none of it.

He'd stabbed when you told him it was time to stab, he'd joined your side when you called him to you, but his mind had been wholly preoccupied.

They didn't make me do it, he'd thought, as he unlocked some chest.

Well, isn't this exactly what I wanted? he'd thought, following you down some stairs.

Clearly they just fell for my charms, my masterful seduction, he'd thought, flanking a prison guard for you.

So why do I feel like this? he'd thought, staring at your back as you led the way before him.

Now, he lays here in his tent, staring at the fold of its ceiling in a rapt fascination he doesn't feel. The feeling in his stomach has stayed all day, tethering him to his thoughts with its continuous pressure.

When did I get to the point where I would follow them anywhere? Is their lack of self-preservation contagious? he asks himself, eyes narrowing in frustration. I shouldn't have gone into that horrendous tower in the first place. Then I wouldn't feel like this.

But he had.

And you'd not forced him to do so.

You'd not forced him to do anything.

They're a fool, an utter fool. I could have bitten that drow, as easy as breathing, he thinks, rolling his eyes at the thought. Close your eyes and push through, that's what I always say.

But did you want to? something in the back of his mind asks. 

Of course not, but when has what I wanted ever mattered– 

It may not have mattered under Cazador's grip, but it has always mattered to you. You're nothing like that evil man. You'd always been there for him, had managed to find trust in your heart for him, and had been genuinely kind to him.

The now-familiar feeling in his stomach seems to spread to the rest of his body, a warmth that doesn't quite feel warm. It bleeds all the way to his face and his lips curl up into an involuntary smile at the thought of you.

You– you, who had only ever been meant to play a bit role in the tragedy that is Astarion’s life. You, who had transcended your part, leaving Astarion contemplating every aspect of you in the stark solitude of his tent. 

Your beauty when you're covered in blood after a battle, the mischievous glint in your eye when you're teaching a child a sleight of hand trick– even when anger pulls your brows together and you're yelling at him for saying something particularly naughty. Each and every one makes his smile grow wider.

You, his chosen protector, are so much more than just that.

They are incredible. The thought comes to him unprompted, truly as easy as breathing.

His eyes widen in alarm, staring blankly at the tent above him.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t an illness. Nor was it hunger. No. It was guilt. It was jealousy. It was…

Oh fuck, Astarion curses to himself. Am I in love?

Now that he has a word to the sensation, that the feeling is in his grasp, he knows he's right. He doesn't have a lot of experience with love, if any– he'd never had the luxury under Cazador's cruel gaze and he can't recall much from before that– but he knows he's right.

And hells does he wish he could crush the feeling in his hands right here and now.

Gods, you complete and utter imbecile, he thinks, hitting his head against the floor. You have things to do, goals to accomplish. They were only supposed to be a means to those goals, not a – a–

Astarion’s mind blanks as he thinks of you again, your charm, your wit, your damnable caring.

Not a companion. Not a friend. Not a lover. When did those late night trysts turn from an obligation, a part of his simple, perfect plan, into something more?

Even now, as he thinks of those nights, he brings a hand to his lips, recalling a night where you had simply stayed in his bedroll. You had kept all of your clothes on, as had he, and simply held each other as you fell asleep. Their kiss that night was delectable, he recalls, tracing the line of his lips, as if he could still feel the ghost of yours on them.

Fuck, he thinks again, dropping his hand in frustration. How could I have been so blind? How did I not nip this in the bud before it got to this disgusting pining?

But he hasn’t nipped it in the bud. The feeling has grown, unfettered, quick as a druidic plant growth, all unbeknownst to him. It has been nurtured by your attention. It has been watered by your kindness. It has become unruly in the safety of your arms.

Now what? he thinks to himself bitterly, wiping a hand across his face with a sigh. What use are these feelings when everything they were built upon is a lie? You are, after all, still playing the role he set out for you.

He considers overlooking the feelings, just as he has inadvertently done in his ignorance. It wouldn’t be of any use to tell you, of course. You could hardly feel the same way about him as he does you, and he’d rather not add another nuisance in the fight against the Absolute.

Besides, if he told you, he would have to fess up, explain his entire plan to you. What would even be left of the two of you after that?

But, he thinks to himself. Let’s say I did tell them. What could they possibly say…

“I was pretending all along too.” – gods, that would break him. That much is all too apparent from the way his undead heart aches at the thought, with a pain he couldn’t possibly feel.

“I like you, but not like that.” – maybe this was worse. Actually, it was definitely worse. He may never recover. His ego would certainly never recover.

“I have someone else that I love.” – honestly, reasonable. What did he have to offer you after all? A bloodthirsty master and the occasional snarky comment? He wouldn’t be surprised to find you in Karlach’s tent at this very moment…

“I hate you.” – he might be able to take this the best. You should hate him. He’d done nothing but lie and manipulate his way into your bedroll. Hate, well, that he understood.

“I love you, but…” – every single 'but' cut like a different, jagged blade. But we’re in danger every day? An excuse, surely. But you come with too much baggage? True, but not something he would be able to resolve. But I don’t want to be with a monster? Again, reasonable, but out of his control.

Astarion runs through scenario after scenario, each one playing with his own emotions in a new and horrendous way. In the end, he all but slaps himself out of it.

No, I cannot tell them. I absolutely must take this to my second grave, he determines, shaking the thoughts away with a few hard blinks.

But the feeling in his chest is more persistent than ever. As if giving it a name and meaning has given it a new, annoying life. He laments to himself aloud, "I may never feel like myself again.”

If this is what love does to a person, he wants no part of it.

__

The vampire didn't have a restful night's reverie, that much is apparent. His mood is foul, his body tense, and his eyes are trying their damnedest to avoid yours. 

No way, he thinks as you all set off for the day. I spun myself into a frenzy last night. Clearly. I feel absolutely nothing–

Then you turn back to him, concern lining your eyes as you address him. What had you just said? He had found himself somehow lost in your eyes, your lips, the turn of your nose… 

Shit, he thinks to himself. No, get back in control. You have only just reclaimed yourself, you can't lose yourself to something as cruel as love.

But, try as he might, his eyes can’t avoid you. 

All morning, he continues to sneak glances your way. Despite his roguish nature, he finds hiding his stares to be impossible. After all, you are the group’s leader. You are at the front, you are at his side, gods, you are everywhere. This feels like some kind of divine punishment…

You catch him looking, of course. And each time, he curses himself, gods, you idiot. You may as well broadcast your feelings to the world. And hells, how long have you felt this way?

Astarion tries futilely to act normal. This is just another day with the group in the Shadowlands. He’s not thinking about holding your hand in his. He’s not thinking about the way you look when you sleep. And, above all else, he is not thinking of your lips or the way that they move when you say his name.

Despite his inner turmoil, the world moves on. You lead the group through the Mason’s Guild, and you all manage to clear the place out easily enough.

The vampire thinks he’s finally reaching some sort of peace. Yes, this routine work he can do. No problem at all.

Then, you say something kind to Karlach, that infernally charming woman, who continues to support you at your side. Who, for all intents and purposes, should be the person who warms your bedroll at night, now that you can touch her. Not him, the man who can only make your bedroll colder. Who, even now, is avoiding your every glance.

Oh hells, he thinks, face dropping. The realization that he’s right is too much for him to bear.

Astarion stalks off, annoyed at himself and his thoughts, needing a moment to recollect himself. I can do this, he thinks. I can do this. I can–

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath once he knows he’s alone. “You’re supposed to get over this, you stupid fool. Shit. Gods dammit.”

He hears your familiar footfalls approaching and freezes, his shoulders tense with anticipation.

You find him in a pool of shadows away from the others, and he can’t help but feel like a beast that’s been cornered. He’s certain his face reflects that, reflects every bit of emotion he’s feeling as plain as could be, but your patience with him has apparently worn thin for the day. Your voice is less kind than usual when you say, “Do you need to talk?”

Seeing the anger in your face, the way that your hands are placed on your hips in annoyance, he knows he can’t keep his feelings to himself. He’ll only continue to push you away, into the strong, red arms of another.

No, he thinks, in a panic. I should– I need to–

He needs to do something about his feelings, unwanted or not. Really, he needs to tell you, regardless of what your response may be. If not, he may regret it for the rest of his undying life.

Now that he is in control of his own choices, he supposes that means all of them, for better or worse. That means even the most difficult ones. This is one of those difficult ones, isn’t it?

So Astarion swallows his pride, his anxieties, his insecurities, and settles his fate.

“Later,” he says, barely getting the words out. He blinks, and tries again, pleading with you with his eyes, “Please, just come by my tent later.”

Later, I will tell them. Everything.

[vibingandsimping]

just read through your whole blog. gods I love your writing 💕💕 would you possibly be able to write how the romanced companions react to waking up to find that their Tiefling/Dragonborn partner has wrapped their tail around them in their sleep?

Oh hush. You’ll make a gal blush.

Edit: I realized I forgot Minthara and will add her later! Lovely Minthara simps I am so sorry. (It is hard remembering all the romance companions)

Astarion is a light sleeper. Hell, he doesn’t even sleep because he’s an elf. Still, he’s deep into his meditative state while you two cuddle. The vampire is the big spoon this time around. Limbs draped over you almost protectively. He stirs a little when something snakes up his ankle towards his knee. His first instinct is to thrash and fight whatever it was. The idea it’d be an animal, that is. After squirming he realizes it was too warm and too large. He looks over at you and sees how content you are. His gaze drifts down towards his leg. Ah, of course it’s your tail. Astarion smiles and suddenly softens at how domestic the act is. The male takes it for you being comfortable with him and nuzzles into you with a sigh. One hand trailing from your body down to his thigh. His fingers intertwining with the tip of your tail. It felt intimate- a type of intimacy that wasn’t sexual. Something new that made his chest soar and he swore he could feel his cold heart beating.

Karlach is laid on her back while you press into her side. Arms wrapped around your shoulder and waist as she sleeps away. You’re quite warm and cozy whenever you two cuddle. Your sleep comes at you hard- almost infectious to the deep sleep she’s in. This girl is a heavy sleeper- and you’d have to splash her with water if you wanted to wake her outside of her schedule. So, it’s no surprise that she doesn’t wake when your tail begins to coil around her. She shifts as it works it’s way around her. The woman’s body instinctively reacts and her tail finds yours. Hooking around the appendage and linking together. It’s natural for tieflings to intertwine in such ways during rest or intimate acts. A soft smile graces her lips as she sleeps and her grip tightens. It’d been a long time since she was able to hold anyone like this. She wakes that morning with a renewed vigor and a shy request to do that again. You simply blush and laugh with her when she remarks how comforting it was.

Gale only stirs when your tail tightens around his waist noticeably. His eyes groggily part and he looks around as his hand trails to his abdomen. After a quick squeeze and inspection of the texture he puts two and two together. He smiles and chuckles to himself. His fingers continuing to trail the skin of the tail as he relishes in your comfort. Then, he lets go and wraps his arms around you further. Drawing you in closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead in tender fashion. Tucking the hair from your face so he can admire you properly. He does make a quip about it in the morning which causes you to flush. He certainly doesn’t mind, no, you can do it all you’d like. It becomes the highlight of his nights. He’d write a poem about it, probably. If you ever found it he’d likely die of mortification. (He’ll get over it.) That, or he’d ask how you felt about it and ask for criticism. Possibly attempting to fluster you in the process.

Wyll has a habit of rubbing his horns against you as he sleeps. Ever since he was turned by Mizora for not honoring his contract. You’d butt your horns with his whenever he fell asleep first and laugh quietly. You’d make subtle comments and he’d blush. Wyll was still learning the new nature of himself and of his new body. Though, this night was his first time to tease you on your habits. You’d been particularly exhausted, turning into his tent for the night. You snuggled into him and you were out in minutes. He had an arm draped over you as he laid with his eyes closed. Your tail began to wrap around him and he parted his eyes. The man watched as you coiled him like a snake and a grin danced on his lips. Torn between not mentioning it at all or getting some deserved revenge. For now, he’d let you sleep. You deserved that at the very least. He stroked your hair as you slept while occasionally glancing at the tail fastened around him.

Shadowheart, hate to say it, dislikes it at first. (At first being the key here.) It’s not that she dislikes you in any form but it freaks her out. Possibly it’s the fact that it’s a tail tightening around her. Or, possibly it’s the phobia of wolves in the back of her mind. Thankfully your tail isn’t furry or she’d genuinely lose it. Especially if she had been asleep and woke to it. Shadowheart tries her best not to mention it to you. It’s your nature and she recognizes it as a form of affection. After a few nights, she slowly adjusts to it. The half-elf allows herself to he curious. Touching it, gently tugging it and letting it wrap around her fingers. It helped ease the subconscious of her mind. She learns to enjoy it, thankfully. She does make a mention of it one day. How it used to freak her out and your heart sank. She saw the look on your face and instantly frowned. She reassured you hurriedly that it was something irrational. That’s why she never spoke of it before. The last thing she’d want you to do is stop.

Lae’zel is a warrior through and through. It took her awhile to be comfortable with cuddling. It’s against her training initially. She holds you so tight when you two share a bedroll. Nearly knocking the wind from your lungs every-time her arms wrap around you. Holding you like you’d disappear in a moments notice. She typically sleeps quite peacefully whilst still on guard. Her face soft and relaxed but with a more rigid body. So, it wasn’t a surprise that when you first slinked your tail she jerked awake. Her hand wrapping around the appendage tightly as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. You flinched and began to squirm- the githyanki finally registering what happened. Her fingers dropped your tail as you relaxed in your dream. A heady sigh escaped her as she rubbed the spot apologetically. She doesn’t mind it, no. It’s just something she’ll have to adjust to. She returns to her previous position and presses her face into your neck. Eyes fluttering shut as she wills sleep to take her once more.

Halsin sleeps in his bear form. You’re likely under his furry body with his front paws splayed around you. His claws and fur tickling your bare skin. To think you can wrap your tail effectively around him is… bold. He definitely does wake to it one night swaying. A large yawn escaping him in almost a roar as he sits up. His head jerking to locate the thumping sound that awoke him from his slumber. He then spots it- your tail swishing as you seem to be having a vivid dream. He figured it was one of contentment or perhaps excitement. He sits and watches for awhile as the movement was quite mesmerizing. Then, when he had his fill and exhaustion pulled at his mind again he flops back down. Taking his two forearms and pulling you in tight. He pins the base of your tail against his stomach- effectively cutting most of the motion off. As much as he finds it adoring, Halsin needs his sleep too. He certainly makes a comment in the morning. Mostly about how he’s thrilled you feel content with him.

[ssvnormandysr-1]

Something I find hilarious about god Gale ending is that he becomes exactly the type of god he said he wouldn't be. On the boat, he said he's essentially sick of gods hiding behind AO, not helping mortals out despite having the ability to, but still demand prayers and devotions from them. he said his mortal heart would keep him true and he would be making gods better, instead of joining them. That doesn't happen. God Gale becomes exactly the type of gods he despised - whether he realizes it or not. He says that he's the god of ambition, not god of "consequence of ambition" when asked if he would support evil ambitions as well. Well! By that logic he absolutely would've supported the chosens of the dead three. He cares about establishing his domain and portfolio - whatever moral consequences happen from that, he can no longer care any less.

if you play as Gale origin, when talking to almost every single companion you have a dialogue option to say basically "have you considered praying to me? I might help out if you do..." thereby demanding their prayer & faith - his help does not come freely, if it comes at all.

he swore to keep his mortal heart but one of the first things he says in the epilogue was "gods, was Faerûn always so dull?" If you romanced him and tell him that he's no longer the man you fell in love with, he says "I guess I shouldn't have expected a mortal to understand." Gale, my guy, you literally became a god literally only 6 months ago. If this is how you are after 6 months idk how you'd be after years.

he says he wishes to better the gods - all he has done is avoid Mystra because he knows she would not give up her domain and also most likely destroy him, and make a dry joke about another god. Sure, perhaps without it being shown on screen he has done some things to "better the gods" but somehow I doubt it. if you play as his origin, his dialogue options to "how have you been doing" consists only of basically "oh I've been establishing my domain"

idk man . I think god Gale is fucking hilarious. He became a god 6 no ago and thinks he's the total hotshot now. He cannot once not mention the fact that he's a god and you should pray to him. He can turn Tara into a hairless cat. He wears a fucking toga when he can wear literally anything else he wants as a god. He's a cringelord supreme and it's so funny.

[thatfreshi]

Out of Love (Astarion x reader)

Tw - death, vomiting, assisted suicide, sickness

Recommended Song: Past Hound - Adam Melchor

A couple of moons ago, you came down with a horrific illness. You and Astarion both don't know why, or how. You suspect foul play. After all, you didn't always make friends on your journeys. You wonder if perhaps you were poisoned, someone slipped something into a drink at the bar, changing the course of your life forever. The first month was like a bad flu, high fever, vomiting almost every day, barely able to eat. Over time though, your body started to ache. Astarion knew it was getting bad when you fell in the kitchen, breaking one of his favorite glasses. At first he was enraged, so angry that you could be so careless with one of his prized posessions. Then, he turned the corner and saw you lying on the floor, and quickly reverted his previous sentiments.

You don't remember exactly how long it's been. About two months in, Astarion told Shadowheart and Halsin to come over, realizing this was not going to go away on its own. They, tried, everything. Shadowheart went into a frenzy, reading up on everything she could, trying spells she had never cast before. Halsin got ahold of every other druid he knew in the city, to no avail. Everyone was clueless. The only thing they could determine is that this illness was man-made.

"So some bastard did try to finally get me, huh?"

You smile a little at your own comment, wincing at the pain it brings you. Astarion glares, not at you, but at the idea that someone would do this to you.

"Not funny my sweet."

It's now been four months. Astarion has tried his best to keep up with all the care you need, but it has turned both of your lives to shambles. Eventually he invited all your old companions over, to stay for a while, as they wanted to help with your illness. Despite the fact that he could barely stay awake at times, he would watch over you for hours on end, sometimes twenty at a time, until someone like Lae'zel dragged him out of your room to go lie down.

Gale has cooked every meal for all of you since you've gotten worse. He tries his best to make things from your childhood, things you'd find comforting. Shadowheart and Halsin continue to research your sickness, finding nothing. Wyll, Karlach, and Lae'zel take turns with Astarion, keeping watch over you, tending to your every need. At this point, you can barely get up most days, either from pain or lack of energy. Despite this, you can't ever sleep. If you do manage to drift off, it's for thirty minutes or so, and then you're jolted awake by some pain.

One day though, you're awoken by Astarion and Halsin arguing.

"I'm telling you Astarion, there is nothing I can do. Tav is going to pass. I don't know how soon, but I would start getting things in order."

He tries to hold back tears, to be good with his bedside manner, but it's almost impossible when Astarion keeps yelling back at him, desperate.

"Tav is not going to die. It's not time yet, you have to do something!"

"Please, Astarion. I don't want to fight with you. I know this is hard to hear, but it's over. There's nothing more we can do. There is no cure."

He tenses, ready to spit some nasty sentence about how he must be some great druid if he can't even heal people, but he refrains, wiping at his eyes. He storms off to his study, as all of your friends watch it unfold.

"I knew he was going to react like that."

Gale says sadly, looking down at the floor.

"I'll go take watch, give him some time."

And with that, Karlach comes into your room. You pretend to be asleep.

After a few agonizing hours, it's evening. Karlach brought you some soup that you couldn't bring yourself to even try eating. As the sun sets, Astarion is in the doorway, a grim look in his eyes. Without saying anything, Karlach takes her leave, giving him an understanding nod that you don't see.

When your lover makes his way to the bed, he lies down next to you, locking eyes with your tired gaze. It's as if you've been beaten twelve times over, the bags under your eyes have gotten so dark.

"Hello my sweet."

He smiles softly, trying to hide the sorrow, trying to shelter you from the news Halsin gave him.

"Hello my love."

You smile back, a little bit of pain and pressure in your face at the attempt.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

You snuggle into his side, trying not to move too much. He meets you halfway.

"I'm just... I'm so tired."

"I know darling... I know."

"No, Astarion. I'm tired of this."

"As am I. Shadowheart and Halsin are working steady as always, they'll find something."

You shake your head, a movement he can feel against his chest.

"No. No I... I heard."

You're exhausted, the air barely leaving your lungs.

"Heard what my dear?"

He's not good at playing dumb, the crack in his voice giving it all away. He hadn't thought about the argument, that you would've heard the two of them yelling about how you're going to die.

"What Halsin... what he told you."

And the tears well in his eyes instantly. He thought he wouldn't have to tell you, that he could keep this sacred thing going, that he could hold you without you needing to know it could all go away so quickly. You hear him sniffle, clearly trying to hold back.

"We don't know it's true Tav, they could still find something. They could be wrong."

His throat is coated in desperation, every word stabbing through your brain, trying to find something in you that believes him, even if he doesn't believe himself.

"They've been at it for months my love. I think it's over."

He grips you a little tighter, wishing for your existence, trying to hold the wind back from the embers of a long-gone flame. You both stay silent for a minute, as you try to work up the courage to ask him something. Something you're not even sure he'll say yes to, but you try.

"I want you to feed on me."

He scoffs, almost angrily.

"No my dear, not while you're sick. You need everything you can get.."

You shake a little, perhaps from the never-ending fever, or maybe from the fear, or the pain.

"No. I mean I want you to feed on me until I'm gone."

He tenses, shocked by your request.

"You... you what?"

You start to tear up, which only brings more pain.

"I'm just so tired Aster, and I've fought for so long. I want it to be over. I'm ready for it to be over, please."

You can barely make it through the end of your sentence without choking up.

"I can't do that, I- I won't!"

He sits up to look at you.

"You can't give up, not like this. There's still time, we still have time."

You reach out for his hand, and he obliges. As you squeeze you fingers into the back of his hand, you ask him one of the hardest questions he's ever had to answer.

"What, so you can watch me continue to suffer?"

He hadn't thought of it, that if this was horrific, how much worse could it get? How long was soon? Even Halsin didn't know how much time, not even an estimate, just... soon. He doubles down.

"No! So that, that maybe you can get better! That we can find the bastard that did this and make him cough up the cure. Maybe we can-"

"Astarion!"

You hadn't yelled for weeks, mustering up everything in your body to overpower his pleading voice. The tears continue to fall down his face, and he leans over, bringing your hand to his face.

"I can't Tav. I can't kill you. You're asking me to destroy the only thing I've ever loved, I-"

The thought of it makes him feel like throwing up, the thought of doing something like that to you. Forever ago he tried feasting on your blood in the middle of the night, long before you fell in love. And when you woke up to a strange man, a monster trying to steal your life force, you were kind. You let him drink from you, and every time he needed to after that.

"I love you so much, and I know you love me so much deeper than I could ever imagine, and I am asking you to do one last thing for me, out of love. I don't want to die to some unknown disease that's been ravaging my body, to pass in my sleep without so much as a thought. I want to die with you, right here, while everyone sleeps, where we can be alone one last time."

It's hard to argue with you, but Astarion feels as though ending your life is hardly an act of love. Mortal lives are already so fleeting, and yet you are asking him to cut it even shorter, to let you go. He meets your eyes again.

"Can I at least go slow?"

"As slow as you'd like."

You weakly smile, and he realizes there is no more considering your offer. This is what you want, and only he can give it to you.

"Okay."

He leans down to kiss you, slowly making his way to your throat, hesitating at first.

"I love you more than you'll ever know."

No pet names, no antics, no fluff. It's the first time you think he's ever said something so serious about how in love with you he is.

"I love you too Astarion."

And it's rare that you ever call each other by your first names. He shivers a little, saying you love 'Astarion' and not 'your sweet' or 'your love.' With your declarations out of the way, he pierces your skin with his fangs, slower than usual. Feeding from you is almost always a rabid act, desperate, feral. He's reserved, savoring every moment, knowing this is it, the last time he'll taste your blood, the last time he'll hold you in his arms, the last time you'll lie in this bed together. When the cold subsides and the numbness takes over, you're at peace for the first time in a long time. All you feel is the slow lapping of your blood, and his grasp tight around you. It feels like forever to you, but moments for him. As the flowing river becomes smaller, the tiniest drops coming out of your neck, he feels your body start to go limp, your skin start to get cold. He fulfills your request despite how much he's hurting, and he drinks until there is nothing left, until you're gone.

A wail echoes through the house, waking up your companions as they rush to see what's happened. As Shadowheart is the first to reach the doorway, she sees Astarion clutching your body, sobbing hysterically. She gets up next to him, clamoring on, asking what happened. He can barely speak, and the rest watch in silence.

"Tav- I- I had to- they wanted me to-"

Guilt-ridden, terrified of what he's done despite you pleading with him minutes ago, Astarion can only stutter the same phrases over and over again.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I- I didn't want to- please."

"Hey, it's okay. Astarion. Astarion?"

Shadowheart notices the blood all over his mouth and the sheets, and the two perfect pin pricks in your neck, realizing what he's done. Astarion looks up for a moment, still clutching your dead body in his hands. And then, he points at Halsin.

"YOU. You fool, Tav heard us, they heard what you said. They gave up because of you. I had to kill them because of you..."

He starts to sob again, losing the rage, overcome with a sorrow that is inexplainable. Halsin only stays silent, knowing these are words of grief and not truth.

"Get out."

Halsin starts to step aside, believing the comment to be about him. When no one else moves, Astarion's eyes dart across the room at everyone, almost manic.

"Get out, all of you. GET OUT."

"Astarion, you can't-"

Gale is cut off by what is such a guttural scream, he can hardly believe it came from the vampire.

"LEAVE."

He comes back to your body, sobbing into flesh that no longer feels.

"Just please leave me alone..."

Shadowheart quietly gets off the bed, ushering everyone out of the room, softly closing the door behind her. Astarion can barely hear the murmurs outside the bedroom door, as he begins muttering to your lifeless corpse.

"I'm so sorry my dear... I'm so sorry. I should've done more, I should've told you to stay, I-"

He can't find the words, relentlessly blaming himself for your choice, wondering if there was any way to get around this. His mind wanders to that first month, when you dropped his wine glass, how he yelled from the other room, how he scolded you for being careless with his things, and he realizes how stupid life is. Nothing matters, a wine glass doesn't matter, you matter. And you were the only thing that ever mattered.

Hours go by, and dusk turns to dawn. Eventually, Gale comes back to the door, knocking softly.

"I'm coming in."

He's met with Astarion still, lying with your body, the blood crusted on the sheets, and his bloodshot eyes. It's as if he barely moved.

"I think... I think it's time."

While Gale wishes that Astarion could stay by your side forever, he knows your corpse will start to change soon, to become worse and worse as the hours pass by. It takes him forever to pry your lover from your side, eventually leading him to the living room, where he lies on the sofa, curled up, as Halsin begins to prepare your body.

[mooreaux]

Silly questions ahoy. Sorry not sorry.

Who fell first, Deirdre or Gale?

Who fell harder?

Were there any things outside of the main romance plot beats that they had to overcome?

Do they have a Big Waterdhavian Wedding?

Well here is a real time pic of them realizing simultaneously that they were already neck deep in a romance without having clocked it up until that very moment

So much more rambling under the cut!

Deirdre and Gale started off as respectful colleagues. He had his little ‘o wow a warlock huh’ and she had her little ‘yeah what of it wizard boy?’ Both incredibly polite about it of course. They gravitated to one another immediately because they are both well read and spoken and kinda looked at the rest of their companions like

So in actuality they buddied up and then got teased relentlessly for being like an old married couple when neither one of them was even in the realm of romantic attraction. Gale because…. Bomb In Chest. And Deirdre having an internal incredibly well hidden behind bardic shenanigans PTSD nightmare from the horrors she witnessed during her imprisonment in Menzoberranzan.

It was only when they started sharing their magic; the weave scene, and the pic above with Dede sharing some fey vibes, that they started to shift from platonic to romantic. I would say Gale fell a little harder and faster because he just seems like that kind of person to me? Like he knows all the reasons he shouldn’t and that kinda unconsciously eggs him on even more. I’d say the crisis with Mystra’s order thru Elminster pushed them both into taking the step of actually admitting feelings tho. Dede couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. Especially to himself.

As for the last two questions… yeah. Gale’s big grand gestures got them into a bit of hot water during and post game. His constant need to prove himself worried Deirdre a lot about his self worth beyond what he could do for her. She had to go through a lot of talks with him to let him know he was enough. Just him. As he was. No magic or pageantry even tho she loves that about him too.

And of course, Dede has a TON of intimacy issues. A lot was done to her without her consent thru her life. Tadpole being the most recent offense. So she doesn’t really like surprises and has a hard time letting people in. Which is funny considering how bright and bombastic her personality is. She uses it mainly to cover the hurt. Not to say she isn’t well adjusted. She spent many many years with her patron working thru the stuff the lolthsworn drow did to her. Tadpole just kinda inflamed the wound again.

So yeah! I think it was actually several years before he even proposed. And several more after that until they got married. But the wedding was HUGE. Her family is gigantic and they have a wide social circle with the folk of Waterdeep, and Baldur’s Gate, and the Druid Grove which they still frequently visited. Gale went above and beyond constructing a castle out of flowers just for the occasion (dedes Patron helped).

Thank u so much for the ask Harding! I love my gnome gal (and i luv urs too)

[mkkk12345]

Divus Crewel x Wife Reader How they met

Sorry this took so long to write, I was once again procrastinating lol Feel free to request situations (I write slowly and I’ll be pretty busy for the next while sadly, but please do request if you would like to! I'll do anyone in twst for the most part with your usual restrictions) (side note I got the names for the dogs from the 101 Dalmatians)

1.2K words

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Oh how Crewel would come to regret what he had done that day, he really should have seen it coming. “Hey! Professor Crewel, tell us how you met your wife!”

This had all started when Crowley had approached him with a challenge. “If you manage to raise the class average of the first years to let's say~ 80 percent? I'll give you a raise! Am I not so incredibly generous? Hahahhahaaaa” He cawed to himself as Crewel walked away absolutely done with the crow mans shenanigans

Rolling his eyes he responds “I guess there is no harm in attempting it”

As an encouragement to study harder he had told his students that if they were able to raise the class average to 80 percent by the next semester he would allow them to ask one question about his personal life. Of course all of the students had jumped at the chance to glance into the oh so mysterious and strict teachers personal life.

And that is why we are here now.

Professor Divus Crewel, now being forced to tell the oh so embarrassing story of how he had met his lovely wife.

“Well it's not the worst question you lot could have asked. I would rather not share this story but if I must I will do so…”

—----

Divus was around 17 when he first met Y/N It was a bright and sunny day, the weather was perfect and it just so happened to be a long weekend, a rare opportunity to visit home in the Queendom of Roses.

It was also a perfect day to take his beloved pet dalmatian Perdita for a nice long walk in the nearby park for some long deserved bonding time.

When Crewel was home from NRC he would often take Perdita to the park. Whether it was actual exercise or for some relaxing time outside to sketch new fashion designs, Perdita never really minded. But today was different, the minute the pair stepped out of the door the spotted dog went bolting in the direction of the park. “Hey! Slow down girl, why on earth are you in such a rush today?!” he said, trying to keep all his sketching supplies from falling to the ground.

Luckily for young Divus, the dalmatian did eventually slow down once they reached the park. “You act as if no one has been bringing you to the park since I left for school.” he said exasperated from the impromptu run.

Soon after catching his breath Divus and his companion walked over to a nearby bench so the boy could start sketching, but right as he put his sketching equipment down there was another sudden tug on the lead and once again they were off “hey! Slow down! What has gotten into you toda-” CRASH he had been cut off suddenly, crashing into another person as Perdita and what seemed to be another dalmatian were running circles around the two very effectively tying the two together.

When he finally pried his eyes away from the dogs he finally realized the full situation he was in, tied up with a very beautiful young lady. “Oh my god I'm so sorry he doesn't usually act like this, Pongo would you stop that already?”

“Don't worry it was neither of our faults really, I guess these two have taken quite the interest in one another” he said as he pulled his arm out of the leashes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck a blush forming on his face as he looked at a very interesting tree behind her.

“They've actually been like this for weeks!” she laughed as she finally met his eyes, “Oh you must be Divus! Your mother talks about you very often.” He was surprised, not only was this girl absolutely stunning but she already knew him. Although he would never admit it, he practically fell in love with her right then and there, the way she beamed with joy, the slight blush on her cheeks, her laugh even in the strangest of situations.

In an attempt to calm himself he averted his gaze again and began to untie him and his new developing crush from the entanglement of leashes they were trapped in “Oh you must have met mother while she was walking Perdita I do hope she didn't tell you anything embarrassing” a strained smirk appeared on his face, knowing how his mother liked to tell the most embarrassing stories of his childhood.

“Well I cant say she didn't say anything” she laughed softly again drawing Divus’s attention for a moment the blush on his face growing ever brighter.

Snapping out of his short trance he asked “Might I ask for your name then since you already know mine?” With blush remaining on the tips of ears he held out his hand like a gentleman, both with the intention to give her, her dogs leash back but also to lead her over to a bench so they could hopefully continue their conversation.

“Oh my apologies how rude of me, My name is Y/N nice to finally meet you.” She bashfully took both the leash and his hand, walking over to the bench.

“The pleasure is mine”

—-

“And whilst that was all happening I looked over to our dogs, only to find them looking at each other with what seemed to be a grin on their faces like they planned that all out.” Crewel sighed as he recalled how proud those little devils looked. “After quite a long conversation that ended up in me never actually starting a new sketch, we traded contact information and left the park.” he looked up at his students now regretting all his life decisions.

“And that is how I met my wife, now it seems like class is over, please leave quickly so I can question why I ever became a teacher in the first place.”

“But prof how did you ask her out?” “Yeah yeah! Who was the first one to confess!” “How did you propose????”

Frustrated crewel quickly answered “If I recall correctly you were all only given the privilege of asking one question, now if you don't stop pestering me I will be giving you even more homework.” a completely very unnoticable blush began to form on his face.

“Sorry sir!” Everyone shouted in unison, but on their way out the students did not miss the slightest hint of red that dusted their professor's cheeks as he pretended to sort through papers.

Once everyone had left and silence had fallen through the classroom a laughter could be heard coming from the Professors phone. “Awwwww darling, you retell that story so fondly~” Crewel sighed as he finally looked over at his phone

“I honestly can not believe I let you talk me into letting you listen to that.” he said with a hand firmly planted on his face covering any sign of pink that appeared.

“Consider it as repaying me for when I dropped those papers off for you. Now hurry home our two rascals of dogs are looking at me like I should thank them for getting us together.” she laughed nervously

“Yes yes honey see you soon” ending the call with a small smirk as he muttered “I should buy some more dog treats on the way back.”

[blorbosinmyheadcentral]

your art makes me explode in a positive way like

im chewing and swallowing it in an aggressive way like

it's just SO good im melting ilove your shading and KEHEKEBEKJDJF

anwayshi hello do you happen to have any headcanons for showtime rolls on the floor and dies

Thank you so much, really appreciate it!

Oh God I don't know if this will read as coherent because my thoughts about Showtime are all over the place. But I'll try to format this the best I can

✨Showtime HCs! ✨

Their relationship starts when they start spending time together.

(The reason why they do so could vary. In Supervised Machine Learning's case, Pomni becomes something of a "tutor" to Caine; They discover that they work well together, and the other's company can be quite pleasant!).

So Pomni and Caine build a weird, but comforting friendship, and all is well.

Then the feelings appear.

Caine is the first to realize he fell in love.

It sounds illogical but hear me out… it'd be really funny--

Ok no seriously I think Caine can actually feel. Keyword "can". He's very much still a machine and it shows in the pilot. But like his inspiration (AM), Caine is also a rogue AI. Whatever his programming originally intended him to do, he probably doesn't follow it as closely now as back when he was created (which is a whole other post).

Caine knows what love is and the extend it can go, since the Moon is so open about her feelings. He just doesn't like the Moon back specifically haha (sorry Moon) :}

All this to say, I do believe this is within the realm of possibility for him. (Not that it's ever gonna happen towards anyone in the show. These are just wishful shippy thoughts).

He might not recognize it as love at first, because it manifests in such a different way from his one reference point.

His friendship with Pomni had gone through phases.

When they first met, he continuously touched her with no concern for how she felt.

Learning from and about Pomni herself led him to come to respect her boundaries (and becoming mindful of everyone else's).

Then they're close friends, and gradually, Pomni does not mind his regular wacky, touchy-feely self. So Caine acts as he had always done before.

Caine expresses his love for Pomni with physical gestures and his undivided attention.

When they teleport to travel to other places, he holds her close so she doesn't get too dizzy; he pats her head to reassure her; he touches her arm to get her attention; he grabs her hands when he's excited about her ideas; he holds eye contact for prolonged periods of time; and he touches, and touches, and touches, and touches.

It's selfish, and so he keeps it buried in his deepest 0's and 1's. But he'd like to keep hanging out with Pomni, having her in his sight, and feel the texture of her gloved hands until the end of time.

Despite all this, to him, virtually nothing changed.

What? He's spending time with Pomni as he'd always been doing, and behaving as he'd always behaved!

It's Bubble of all people that has to point out that, "Hey boss. I think you WANT her!"

Absurd. Nonsense. Preposterous! It is merely a relationship of mutual support and affection between a ringmaster and his trusted, former-human companion. Nothing more.

(Declaring his love to her unprompted didn't ever cross his mind, so there's no way it could be that. Is there?)

Caine finds out that yes, there is.

Pomni had always been a nervous wreck, but her mind state becomes more manageable over time. She eventually adjusts to the circus life like everyone else did.

"Accepting" her fate is a different story. The will to escape, to remember, never really leaves. She's just more careful about it.

So when she starts working with Caine - to improve life so people don't go abstracting anymore, and hopefully find a definitive exit - she's not expecting to end up liking her time with him.

Not that she'd absolutely hate it, either. He's… "okay"… Just-- outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space, he keeps touching her, and it makes her die a little every time.

If he's up to listening, though… it can't be that bad, right?

Turns out that no, it wasn't that bad.

Yes, he is outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space and touching her. But she explains what she means to him, clearly and patiently, and he makes an effort to do better. An actual effort.

Sometimes he'd misinterpret what she meant - the ambiguity of human language - and the new games would go horribly. But little by little, his efforts make life overall better. Something reminiscent of actual, real life, the one they've all forcibly left behind.

And he tries, and he tries, and Pomni finds herself enjoying the process as much as the good results.

Pomni likes Caine's eagerness to learn. His enthusiastic attitude borders on silly, and the absurdity makes her laugh on occasion. When faced with the prospect of a "real" exit, she loves his upbeat optimism.

When she's not hanging out with Ragatha, Jax, Gangle, Zooble and Kinger, she begins to enjoy spending quality time with Caine.

Each one of their hang outs is a new surprise. They make a picnic in the tallest mountain exactly in between day and night. They learn to dance - while floating in the air. "Since you asked, here's a DIGITAL camera! Let's take pictures of the Void for one tenth of a second at a time!"

Sometimes he just comes by Pomni's room, and they end up losing track of time. Just chatting about how things have been, what they could be, and what to do next. Ideas and ideas and ideas.

Before Pomni knows it, she's comfortable enough that recalling his old habits makes her not dread them anymore. So when Caine stands close and lightly touches her arm due to oversight, she makes sure he knows it's all right.

And they keep spending time together, and he touches, and touches, and touches her. Pomni, in turn, feels lighter, and lighter, and lighter. Peaceful, at ease. Dare she say, happy, even.

Life is not perfect. As it stands though, it's good enough. No one has abstracted. No one is at risk of abstracting so far.

Progress is slow, but the research for an exit continues, and she is hopeful. The thought of actually leaving grows closer to reality. But a part of her feels heavy.

When it occurs to Pomni that leaving the Amazing Digital Circus means leaving Caine behind, she is alarmed by how much she'll miss him.

It'll hurt. Badly. So much the thought pains her even now.

The moment Pomni realizes this, she comes to the unexpected conclusion that she may like Caine a little more than she thought she would.

This later leads to an interesting discussion with Ragatha.

By the time Pomni comes to that conclusion, Caine is already down bad.

Neither has any idea that the other is in love with them.

Cue dumbasses trying to deal with their feelings while the potential conflict the escape brings looms over their heads.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk!

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Bouquet of Violets (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: You are happy in your marriage, even if your husband can be quite hellish. It all starts to go wrong when a secret admirer shows up.

Warnings: Angst! Fluff! All the feelings! And yeah, mature language and topics. Canon character death (Not Aemond)

A/N: Hopelessly romantic (delusional) reader! meets Aemond. Based on a song I grew up listening. The girls that get it, get it.

Aemond, unlike you, remembers the first time the two of you met. You wore your hair down, back then. It cascaded down your back in the ways girl's hair often did before they flowered, unstyled and wild.

You must have been nine, or ten years old. He was twelve and having a temper tantrum, hiding in the corners near the throne room. Your father was in an audience with King Viserys, while you and your mother explored the Red Keep. Aemond had never found out what the meeting was about, nor did he care.

Your mother was dressed in brightly colored robes, matching your father’s. You were still dressed in the frocks of childhood. Your small, bony shoulder, had hit him right on the ribs as your mother walked you down the hallway, and Aemond had been ready to give you the tongue lashing of your life. Yet, something had halted him.

When you had bumped into him, you had raised your gaze, to meet his. Back then, he didn’t wear the eye patch, the scar tissue too raised to do so. Instead of flinching back at the gruesome sight of the marred flesh, as most people did, you had offered him a kind smile.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to.” Your sweet smile lit up your whole face. You were not the prettiest girl he had ever seen, all awkward limbs and missing a tooth. But you were the kindest. As you fell back into step with your mother, clutching your doll, Aemond could not help but be charmed by you.

So many years have passed that Aemond does not recall what your mother and you were talking about. What he does recall are another two things: First, that you were sheltered. You referred to a pet of some sorts as your friend. Second, you were clearly hung up on the notion of marriage.

Later, he would realize that The Stranger had not touched your family yet. While you might have been familiar with the notion of death, as many children were, but had not fully grasped the troubles of mortality. That was why you were concerned over the thought of what would happen to your pet when you married.

Your mother replied something along the lines of them going with you, but the doubt was clear in her tone. She was uncertain about the prolonged longevity of your childhood companion.

Sometimes Aemond thinks of how much you must have wept when they passed. The idea of you being so distraught over something you loved makes his heart ache in a weird way.

Darkly, he thinks of how you will react once he is dead. He knows his chance of surviving this are low, especially now. Will he merit as many tears as your pet did?

The words your mother last spoke before the two of you disappeared down the hallway were forever etched in his memory.

“The man who loves you will respect everything you love and hold dear. Remember that.”

You came to him with no pet. But he would have taken in an entire farm if you had.

The next time the two of you had crossed paths, Aemond had liked you even more. You were beautiful. Having long left behind the styles of childhood, your hair was worn up as a proper lady. It made it easier to admire your eyes, magnetizing and intelligent.

You were fond of reading and writing. When he saw you again, your nose was buried into a book. It was not philosophy, or history, or any useful subject, really. You read love stories, fairy stories and all sorts of things. Literature and poetry and children’s tales all rolled into one.

It was your mother, who encouraged that passion of yours. Despite being married to a man who was much older than her, and less educated, she had found happiness in him. She looked at the world in a rather unique way. One you had inherited.

You had been taught to read at an early age. According to your mother, education was the greatest equalizer between men and women, even if she didn’t voice it around your father. He didn’t know his letters very well, and so, had little clue about what books you choose to bury your nose in. If he had known, he would have disapproved.

Most men would have, truly. No one wanted young maidens to get unrealistic ideas about how marriage was supposed to go. Yet, when Aemond himself had the chance to put a stop to it, he found himself unable to.

If Aemond was to be honest with himself, he would have said he enjoyed it. The way your face would get all dreamy, your sighs so sweet, as you progressed on your reading and imagined a love like the ones in your books. Perhaps it had been the reason, in some misguided attempt to appeal to that side of you, he started doing this.

Your second meeting, which you thought had been the first, had not been due to chance. When Aemond was told it was time to marry, the choice came to your family or the Baratheons. He had never been one to protest his duties, no matter how opposed he was to it. But on this, he put forth his own selfish conditions. Aemond would marry you and no one else.

His mother had had to insist to your parents, unwilling to give up their precious daughter in times of political unrest. It was no secret to anybody that upon the death of King Viserys, things could turn ugly. It made your family wary of marrying you to Aemond.

Never before had he cursed his parentage so much. By then, Aemond had not seen you in years, but he knew you were the only choice for him. Kind and unafraid at ten, you could have only grown into a wonder.

And you did. The more he gazed at you, during that second encounter, the more he discovered. Unfortunately, Aemond had not been taught how to speak with maidens, much less one he wanted so badly.

Unused as his lips were to speaking kind words or flowery speech, he found himself in absolute terror of doing or saying the wrong thing. When he had wanted something in the past, he simply commanded it. Aemond was not used to wanting to keep a woman, but he guessed it took more effort than that.

His mother berated him all the way home. In his fear of his words upsetting, he had ended up not saying anything at all.

“You picked her yourself, Aemond, and barely showed excitement over it. The poor girl must think you hate her.”

And you probably did. Aemond could tell that you felt your encounters were awkward, but you slowly started getting used to him. What charmed him the most had been that never once you were afraid.

It ended up becoming a routine. Sort of a play date, but for adults. Set up by your hopeful parents, you would meet each other weekly and sit in silence. Each time, you would walk in with a pep in your step, wearing pretty gowns and smiling.

You would try to engage him in conversation, but he felt too self-conscious for it. It didn't phase you. You suffered through exactly two rounds of awkward conversation before starting to bring books. Sometimes, they were two, one for him and one for you. But his favorite times were when you brought only one and read aloud to him.

You had a very pleasing voice. You pronounced your words carefully, and in an even tone. And you would always ask for his opinions on the chapter when you finished. It made conversation much easier.

Any other woman would feel unhappy at having to go through such efforts. Astoundingly, not you. Overall, you seemed happy, and it puzzled Aemond to no end. Asking you had not proven very enlightening either.

“Of course I am happy.” And you had given him a smile so bright, he was convinced you were not actually your parent's daughter, but rather, the daughter of some old god of the light. “We are a good match. We like books. And you are a Prince, good with the sword, and very learned. Why wouldn't I be happy?”

Practical. No matter how romantic the books you read, or how magic the stories you enjoyed, your answer had been purely practical. You deserved more. A loud love story, like the ones in your books, and not a quiet life, spent in the shadows of a man who could barely pay her a compliment.

You gave a little spin, awed at the way your skirt moved and spread. It was the softest cloth you had ever felt, in cream and gold. Queen Alicent had gifted it to you along with many other pieces for your trousseau. You were to marry a Prince, and so, no expense was spared in updating your garments and linens.

What an honor it was, to have such a caring mother-in-law. Having witnessed the poor relationship between your mother and grandmother, you were thrilled over it. You had heard Queen Alicent had asked for you specifically, believing your temper to be a good match for her son. Since the announcement of the betrothal, she had been nothing but doting, if a bit overly worried about his treatment of you.

And Prince Aemond. You truly had no complaints. He was a tad too stoic for your liking, but he was never unkind to you. Despite the rumors about his fearsome character, you had found him to be very handsome.

Your first impression of Aemond was that he was tall. He was all long vertical lines in black and white. A study in contrasts, if you wish. One that, were you an artist, would have your hands itching for some coal. The only pop of color was his eye, a pale blue that shone on his handsome face.

He lacked the boyishly handsome features most men your age had. Instead, much like art, he was divisive. The eye patch that should lessen his appearance, only contributed to his uniqueness. There was something in the way he smiled, too. Something that hinted to something darker, dormant under the surface.

It was both attractive and intimidating. His stoic, aloof nature reminded you a lot of the leading men of the books you read. Your knowledge of that sort of man, through literature and observation, hinted to you that your betrothed must be more than met the eye.

What sort of passions and secrets must be hiding under his cool facade? You could not wait to find out. You imagined growing old with him, slowly learning his secrets and tells, just like your mother had done with your father.

The story of your parents' betrothal and marriage was one you knew well. As a child, you asked to hear it every night before bed. Your mother had been engaged to him being quite young, while he was already a man. He had been patient with her, but not very affectionate. Slowly, she had worn down his defenses, and gained his trust. It had taken years, with your father being a very gruff man. But they were the most loving couple you had ever met.

You yearned for something like that. A love that was built on mutual respect and trust, something that grew with you and filled your house with children and laughter. And with Aemond, you could not help but think that it would be possible. Wasn't he, too, a cold man who treated his bride kindly but never with affection?

You smiled at your reflection. You made a lovely bride if you said so yourself. Eyes full of hopes and expectations for your future marriage and the family that you would soon start, face glowing in happiness. One day, you said to yourself, as your Lord Father came to escort you towards the Sept, I will tell this story to my daughter.

Prince Aemond waited for you at the altar. It was a small gathering, your wedding. There were his siblings, mother, and grandfather and your parents. Your stomach tightened up in nervousness and excitement. You hoped he found you as beautiful as you found him.

When his eyes met yours, he gave you a small little smile. Secret, and barely there. You felt tears starting to well up in your eyes. You were so nervous, but so happy. This was the beginning of your new life, you could feel it.

You finally reached him. Aemond seemed startled at your tears, his hands coming to clasp yours almost in instinct. You gave him a bright smile. How kind, your betrothed was. He might have trouble expressing it, but for this, no words were needed.

You could see your nerves reflected on his face. Your hands squeezed harder. Aemond mimicked the gesture. There was a sense of understatement there that had previously been absent from your encounters. During the whole ceremony, neither of you let go or stopped looking at the other. As he leaned in to kiss you, you met him halfway.

This kiss had featured in your dreams for quite a while. As a young girl, when your lessons with your Septa got particularly boring, you daydreamed about the day you would marry. In your head, it was always perfect, and the kiss felt magical. You were a bit embarrassed to admit it, but once you met Aemond, your daydreams turned a bit less innocent.

The kiss fulfilled one of your fantasies, and left the other lacking. Aemond gently cradled your face in his hands and kissed you, very tenderly. His lips felt slightly dry, but he kept his motions gentle and sweet. It was a perfect as your childhood self had imagined, with the guests even clapping at the end. Unfortunately, it was just as innocent.

Considering that, and the fact that Aemond had demanded there not to be a bedding ceremony, you had correctly guessed your wedding night would be spent on your own.

The consummation of your marriage would be a challenge in itself. Aemond didn’t seem too keen on touching you with a ten-foot pole, and you weren’t sure of how one should bring up the topic.

Despite it, you were happy. Your only task was hanging on his arm at important feasts, which were few and far in between. His father’s declining health meant there was little to celebrate.

Your days often went without even seeing your husband, but you were never lonely. There were gardens to be walked, and books to be read. There were even tiny, blonde children, that you could chase around in the gardens and tickle. They were not yours, but Princess Helaena's and Prince Aegon's, yet they shared the striking silver hair your husband had. Looking at them, tiny sticky hands and still smelling like babies, you could imagine the future with your husband.

You could spend hours playing with them, or having tea with the Queen. You enjoyed trailing after her, she was always very kind. Frequently, you wondered how she and Aemond could be so alike yet so different.

The only thing that broke your routine were the times Aemond requested your presence.

“Milady.” Your handmaid said, stepping lightly inside your chambers. “The Prince has requested that you go to him.”

Instantly, dread and excitement pooled in your stomach. As a young lady, you were both fearful of the act and excited by it. Too often, you had heard it was something hurtful, but that it marked the change into womanhood. When Aemond called, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the night he made you a woman.

You rushed to take out a nightshirt from your trousseau. You had separated them into three categories. There were ones that you wore nightly, others that were slightly bigger that were saved for an eventual pregnancy, and the ones that were for Aemond. Those were the prettier ones that your Lady Mother had purchased to help you entice your husband.

It was always one of the latter that was chosen. You hated not being prepared, so you always made sure to look pretty and be clean. Just in case. It had not happened yet, but it didn't mean it never would.

Your handmaid aided you to put your robe on, followed by your slippers and a thick cloak. The Red Keep, despite being inhabited by dragons, was always cold. Your handmaid always walked you to his chambers, and this night was not the exception.

She left you at his door, after you were announced. Aemond himself opened his door, welcoming you inside.

You had gotten better at not staring at him. Despite his state of undress, in only sleep pants and his hair down for once, he was a delight for the eyes.

“My lady.” He kissed your cheek. The door closed after you. He aided you out of your cloak. “I was hoping you would read for me tonight.”

You tried not to let your disappointment show on your face. Aemond, as if sensing your mood, merely shoved a book in your hands. He didn’t even offer you a seat, but you took one on the bed anyway. By the weight of the book, you would be here a while.

“On a far away land, whose name I am unable to recall…” Aemond settled down on the bed next to you, eye closed. You didn’t understand why he did this sort of thing, but you weren’t bothered by it either. It was a small price to pay for all the luxuries you got to enjoy.

Despite ending up with a sore throat, it was fun too. He picked the books now, in a stark contrast to the days when you had been a couple courting. And as a man, Aemond had access to many more books than you had. You had recently started making your way through some chivalry tales, with a lot more blood than you were used to.

It was enough for you. Perhaps he was not very affectionate, but he clearly enjoyed your company. Why else would he keep summoning for something as menial as reading books?

You settled into a comfortable routine, grounded by the rhythms of court life. For a while, everything was extraordinarily normal. It was not until you were three months into marriage with the Prince that things started to get weird.

It was the ninth day of the tenth moon of the year, and the date felt slightly ominous. There was a restless energy in the air, something unusual. Perhaps, it was you. As of late, you had been feeling a bit blue. The lack of letters from your family and the twins starting their lessons had left you with more spare time than you thought you would have.

Deciding to go have a bath to try to shake that restless energy from you, you headed toward your rooms. When you entered, the first thing you noticed was the smell. It was strong and floral like, permeating the surrounding air. Your maids used sweeter smells for your rooms, on the Queen’s advice. They were the sort of smells that Aemond favored, and so, she had hoped surrounding you with them would endear you to him.

Then, you saw them. It was a big bouquet of violets, laying on top of your bed. Delighted, you ran towards them. You were unable to resist the urge to smell them, breathing in their scent. This close, you noticed they were slightly bluer, closer to dark blue than purple.

You toyed with their petals, wondering where they could have come from. Perhaps your husband? Aemond was not very inclined towards romantic gestures, but there was no other explanation for it.

You were nearly bursting in excitement to see him. The flowers had been such a kind gesture, you could not help but feel a wave of affection. But no matter how much you wished for it, you had seen nor hide nor hair of Aemond.

Denying it was stupid on his part. Aemond will not protest against it. But what else could have he done? He had panicked. It's not like he meant to do so.

His mother held a weekly meal with all her children, and had taken to including you. Having often berated him about his treatment of you, it was not surprising that she had decided to take you under her wing.

Aemond did feel a bit guilty over his own coldness, but he wasn't really sure how he ought to behave. Apart from his sister and uncle, he had not seen many loving pairs during his life, and anyone would agree that Rhaenyra and Daemon should never be held up as examples of anything.

You were lonely, as of late. The twins had gotten old enough for lessons, and so, they had limited time to play with you in the gardens. You were far enough from home that the letters took a few days to reach you, too. As a young woman, almost too young to be forced to leave everything you knew behind, isolation must have been taking its toll.

Let's not forget you were not only two years his junior, but also a woman. You were of a fragile disposition, with your constant daydreaming and romantic thoughts. Aemond ought to have been paying more attention, but his mind had been busy elsewhere.

His father looked more and more close to death with each day that passed. His grandisre was constantly plotting. Without needing to be a seer, Aemond knew that things were not looking good. There would not be a peaceful reign for Rhaenyra.

He had been so caught up on his worries and duties, that Aemond had forgotten to take care of his woman. Aemond had not summoned you to his rooms that week, too wired to project the calm you would need in the days that would come. You would not do well if a war broke out.

Aemond had been quite lacking on his duty of taking care of you. Pretty little flower that you were, he could almost see you starting to wilt. You spent more time indoors, and stopped your daily walks in the gardens.

Despite fairness being regarded as a desirable trait for a lady, Aemond did not like the way your skin had lost its sun kissed glow. It just didn't fit you. Blue was more of his thing than yours, gorgeous golden woman that you were.

Hence, the flowers. Choosing the violets was an impulse. Aemond liked the colors and the smell was tolerable yet distinctive. He would know immediately when you received them, being able to smell them on your hair and clothes.

Sweet natured as you were, you had thanked him for them. The fact that you had liked them and associated them with him had been enough to warm his heart. The fact that you had decided to do so during the dinner with his siblings, enough to stomp on it.

It had not been quiet enough.

“Aemond?” Aegon frowned. “Aemond gave you flowers?”

Knowing his brother as he did, Aemond knew he was struggling hard to contain his laughter. He had been the butt of the joke too many times to confirm or deny anything. He would rather not be embarrassed in front of you.

But in truth, the idea of being weak, of being mocked, was not one that scared him. He had been humiliated many times during his childhood. What bothered him more was the thought of his feelings for you being exposed in such a manner. He was not prone to sudden bursts of affection, or doing thoughtful things for those he loved.

Aemond preferred to love in silence. There was no need for grandiloquence, or big gestures. Marriage was a sacred thing, between husband and wife. It was not something that had to be shared loudly. His love was spoken quietly, in the same way he had been taught to.

His mother loved quietly. His grandsire did, too. Their eyes spoke when their lips did not, their love a discordance with the words out of their mouths. Aemond had grown like that, loved but never told, learning it as a secret language that tied them all.

The flowers, though. The flowers had been a betrayal of their code. Something they would not understand because while everyone in the Red Keep was fluent in the art of loving and not saying a word, you were not. You were a foreigner, with your tales of romance and princess from a far away land.

This had been Aemond, clumsily speaking your language. Shy about it, as many people were when speaking one that was not theirs for the first time. It was hard. It was private, and certainly not something he wanted to be outed in front of Aegon, who would not know love for his wife if it hit him in the face.

His expression must have been deadly because Aegon had started squirming on his seat like his pants were on fire. Your face had fallen, turning into a terrible, sad thing, that made something funny to his heart.

“It wasn’t you. Of course.” Your voice was softer still. Aemond continued eating his dinner without a word. Because really, what could he say? Anything that he did now would be mocked by Aegon.

The way your face had fallen, brows pinching together in a sad little frown, had haunted him later. He wanted to fix things, but was unsure how. You were not used to his brusque manner and speech. Aemond felt it might do more harm than good, if he were to speak with you. He might end up offending you more without noticing.

Besides, how did one even start to explain that he had denied tacitly to gifting you flowers fearing not being understood and mocked? He would sound like a fool.

Instead, he had penned you a note. Instead of apologizing, Aemond had hoped to butter you up with a few compliments. You must have realized it, then, because you had walked the whole day as if floating in a cloud.

Come the ninth day of the next moon, you had nearly forgotten all about the incident. You had thrown away the flowers before they even had a chance to wilt, and the note had been burned to a crisp in your fireplace. You had convinced yourself having a secret admirer was improper for a married woman, and refused to give it more thought.

It was a bit strange, that your husband was not angered by it. Yet, at the same time, you supposed he was thankful for your discretion over the entire affair. Aemond was very sensible and smart, so it was logical he wouldn't blame you.

Aemond had kept summoning you to his chambers, be either for you to read to him or just to sit in silence. Your happiness persisted. Until your breakfast’s tray was set on your vanity.

You noticed it when you were sipping at your tea. Groggily, and confused, you found a piece of paper under your napkin. On a neat handwriting, there was a quote from one of the poetry books you favored.

You gave a tiny gasp. Your hands clenched on the paper, your cheeks heating up. The penmanship was not one you recognized, but the words made your knees nearly buckle. No one had written you sonnets before.

Ninth day, you realize. Same as the flowers. If not your husband, then who? The idea of the secret admirer came back, stronger this time. The dates could not be a coincidence, this had to be the same person. Ninth day of the ninth moon, then ninth day of the ten.

You started over analyzing each interaction you had with men. When the knights opened the doors for you, your eyes would linger on theirs. When a Lord would greet you, you would try to remind if he had something to do with violets.

You found yourself daydreaming of this man. Would he be an older man? Would he be prone to smiling, or would he share the stoic nature of your Prince? How would his hands feel on your skin? All the daydreaming made you feel guilty, for fantasizing about a man who was not your husband. Yet, at the same time, you knew that you would not act on it. You loved Aemond too much.

It was flattering, to be wanted in such a manner. You liked the idea of it because it was different from the love you were used to. But you would rather not meet the admirer, knowing you would have to reject him. You enjoyed the attention, not the person it came from.

There was only one person in Westeros that you wished would lavish you with attention and love. And you knew already he was not your secret admirer.

Secretly, sometimes, you thought of telling Aemond. What would his reaction be? The thought made butterflies flutter in your stomach. Would he get jealous? Would he turn more affectionate? You imagined he would want to claim you in some way.

Alone, at night, you pictured his eye, narrowed in anger. Those hands, gripping harshly at your hips, leaving bruises. His body over yours, his lips on your throat, your chest, your stomach. Your hands would follow the path that the imaginary Aemond's hands would take, caressing and groping until they reached their destination. You would arouse and tease yourself until you reached your peak, a scream of his name dying in your throat.

The wondering does not last to meet a third moon. No, because King Viserys passes away and Prince Aegon is crowned King. The whole Red Keep is in a state of disarray, and you feel oddly fearful, watching the constant movement the family seems to be in.

Even Queen Alicent, usually so kind and calm, is on edge. She seems on the verge of a neurotic episode, pacing frantically around the halls, muttering to herself. You can't help but feel something bad is about to happen.

Your husband is in a terrible mood. He seems to have a constant headache, and so, you have taken to being even more kind to him. Some nights, he will summon you to his chambers. He keeps asking you to read to him, but you can tell his mind is far away.

You try grounding him, placing your hand on his thigh or shoulder every chance you get. If you were more confident, you would try something more bold. Aemond seems to enjoy your touch, but he doesn't encourage you to do it. His face remains unmoved, and he keeps telling you to keep reading.

His only tell is that he always reciprocates. If your hand is on his shoulder, his goes to your hip. If you touch his back, Aemond caresses your hair.

It leaves you feeling a bit out of balance. It's entirely innocent, as if you were two children discovering love. Yet at the same time, you can't help but feel like you are burning up in your need for him.

He starts requesting for you to stay the night with him. Aemond never touches you beyond holding you to him, body pressed close to yours in a long, vertical line. Sometimes, you wake up to his manhood prodding you from behind, but he promptly excuses himself out of the bed you share. It makes your thighs clench up in need.

It's unbearable. You feel like you are going insane, your center pulsating in need each time you are near him. The simplest touches can set you on fire. You decide to be bolder, soon. You can't keep this state of affairs.

Before you can explore this new side of your connection, Aemond is pulled away. A mission for the King, he explains. You stay behind, feeling restless. Not having been told what his mission involved, nor where he was going, you can't help but worry. Aemond had taken Vhagar, and that, at least, gives you a slight sense of safety. You were familiar enough with his mount to know she could be his fiercest protector if she felt someone was threatening.

You spend your hours praying for his safe return, along with the Queen. While not part of the Small Council formed around Aegon, but you imagine quite well what they discussed. Alicent is as scared as you are.

You go to bed late that night. With Aemond away, you can't sleep, already used to his body pressing against yours. You had hoped exhaustion would help you overcome that problem.

It's even later when heavy footsteps and the slamming of a door rise you. In the dark, you can barely make out a silhouette. A tall man, holding a dagger.

You scream. The man grabs you roughly by the shoulders and pushes you to lay down on the bed. This close, you can feel that his clothes are strangely humid, as if dried in a rush. You had not considered it before, but the letters and violets do not seem so romantic anymore. Instead, they scare you. You find yourself faced with the possibility that this man might this be your secret admirer. Has he felt encouraged by your happiness? Is he dangerous?

There is a heavy candleholder on your nightstand. You reach for it in the dark, and swing at his head. The man yelps. You start to struggle against him. His tone is familiar to you.

“Seven Hells.” He curses. It's then that it hits you. This is Aemond. Aemond is back. You don't get to rejoice on it, or pull him to you, though. He keeps speaking, in a confused tone. “You… I… I made a mistake.”

Aemond gets up and away from you. His clothes still reek of humidity and sadness. You remain there, laying on your stomach, as you feel an uncontrollable urge to cry. There is something inside you that has been rattled until it broke, something that tells you that this Aemond is not your Aemond.

The next morning, you find out he has killed Lucerys Velaryon. Instead of going to his mother or grandsire, he had come straight for you. Aemond had been trying to forget on your skin, lose himself in you.

When you see the violets covering every inch of your room, bouquets over your bed, on your vanity and even the windowsill, your eyes sting. It's bittersweet to realize that, now that you look at them, their color is surprisingly close to a sapphire.

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Dividers by yours truly. Por supuesto que la canción era Ramito de Violetas. Grande Zalo Reyes.

[themotherofblood]

Prologue . 1 | RIVER OF FIRE | THE LADY | D.T x R.T x READER

series masterlist | main masterlist

~ where ever you stray, I’d follow. Begging for you to take my hand ~

“Rhaenyra? Rhaenyra… she is the gust of spring air after a bitter winter. She is a child’s first laughter. She is my knight. Our days spent climbing trees and visiting Aemma. Rhaenyra insisted that Syrax is finally large enough to saddle two but I refused her, what if I fell? I am a little too young and too pretty to die just yet. But too Rhaenyra, she is my happiness and I her lady.”

The summer of one hundred and ten years after Aegon's Conquest, you'd remembered the days to be so vibrant. That was your fifth year at Kings Landing, and the second year since the fourteenth day of the fifth moon since you had realized you held passions for Rhaenyra Targaryen.

There was a true sense of sisterhood between Laena, Alicent, Rhaenyra and you. The little ladies that ran the Red Keep a muck, the hordes of giggles and dozens of fabrics that followed everywhere you went. Alicent and Rhaenyra, the older girls of four and ten, Laena and you were two and ten finding yourself in a closer bind of sisterhood, that and your shared love for exotic fauna.

Your fingers had been deep in dirt, planting away yet another exotic seed that Lord Corlys procured for you and Laena, they never understood how you managed to grow them but you did. They thrived in the summer months, while your hands mindlessly packed soil, and your eyes remained on Rhaenyra as she rested her head in Alicent's lap. You couldn't quite decipher the stinging burn in your chest as you watched Alicent twirl Rhae's silver locks in her fingers.

Laena was a silently observant person, she looked between your eye line before dragging you to lay in between the blossomed flower beds. "I wrote for my brother yesterday, demands of sweets and sieges of poetry were demanded of," you told Laena, truly trying to distract yourself. Laena giggled as she shook her head. The softness of her voice echoed with chirps of hummingbirds, the sun crisp against her skin just as it shimmered against yours.

"Silk and gold threads from Lys, and more shells. Father promised me more." Laena continued as she toyed with her sea blue sleeves. "And thanked him on your behalf for the seeds."

Even as you remained deep in conversation with your companion, your eyes held an envious gaze toward Alicent; you hated feeling this way. She was your friend too, you were all friends with each other and yet this unfamiliar feeling gnawed at your insides for over a year. You giggled and chuckled along at all the court gossip of the older ladies being wed and betrothed to the knights of their dreams.

"Lady Laena," Daemon called out from behind you as you shot up to look at him. This man intimidated you to your core and yet provided you with the wisest of wisdom. "Your mother calls for you," he gestured at Laena. She wished you farewell before running off, you shuffled up awkwardly, unaware of what to do, so you turned your eyes to Rhaenyra and she was still too engrossed with Alicent. Your envious gaze bore holes into the brunette girl; you were meant to be friends but you simply couldn't help yourself.

"You ought to look harder, you might envision an arrow in her head." Daemon mused at your glare, you scowled at him and got up. Shrugging your skirts free of dirt and grass.

"You may jest at court all you like, leave me out of it my prince," you looked up at him with a scowl, lip jutted out as your returned to watching Rhaenyra enviously.

"Ah- I humbly apologise princess," he bit his lip from chuckling further at your frustrations, he held your upper arm to stop you from running away.

"How about you join me for a walk? The day is far too beautiful to be wasted," he offered, extending his arm out of you to take. You looked once more to Rhaenyra lounging with Alicent and then you agreed. You didn't want to be alone at that moment. You walked with him in the royal gardens, nobody questioned anything. He was a frequent visitor to his brother's daughter and you. You had found a quiet corner to lay flat on the grass again as Daemon nursed on a flask of...wine.

He offered you some, which you immediately spit out over the bitter taste making him laugh even louder. "Blegh...," you shivered the taste away "what is that?"

The corners of Daemon's eyes crinkled, "moonshine," he shrugged taking two swigs before putting the flash away.

"It's disgusting, death," you coughed getting the burn away from your throat.

"How is your, city watching going," you began an awkward conversation, fully aware that he was about to question you about your sour behaviour today.

"The heathens of King's Landing ought to fear the colour gold from now on," he stated, looking to the skies. There was an odd moment of silence before he spoke up again. "Perhaps Viserys would send out less of an army every time you princesses visited."

"What were the daggers for? Alicent stole your pretty doll or something," he quirked his brow at you, in truth he was concerned that you might have pounced onto Otto Hightower's spawn, having a history of brawling with young lasses at court who dared to test your patience; he hoped you'd fess up. You shook your head to disagree.

"She would never steal my dolls, she has plenty of her own," you stated, ripping at the grass next to you. Pulling them through one by one as a frown pulled over your forehead once more. The image unwavering within your mind, Alicent asking- no, demanding Nyra's attention from dawn to dusk. Yet today they wore matching coloured gown, Nyra wore matching gowns with you, not Alicent. The portrait a bitter taste in your mouth, how do you explain that to a prince notorious for being wild, unchained.

"So you admit, scary little Dornish princess does play with dolls," he teased, referring to the rude remarks that never seemed to stop at court about you.

"What did you expect? That I play with human skulls?" you scoffed, pouting and looking even more upset. The balls of grad that filled your small fists, you lurched at Daemon and then finally caved. "Rhaenyra seems to enjoy Alicent's company more than mine."

"Well," Daemon began, the thoughts swirling in his head projecting across his face "they are friends, and so are you...?" He pushed along, clearly another motive lingering at his tongue.

"Yes we are- we are just friends," you hesitated to elaborate further, afraid you wouldn't find the weight words to profess what you felt.

"Not very ladylike to lie is it, princess?" He cock his brow up, accusing you to weasel your confession out of you.

"We are more than friends I think, more than sisters." You confessed, tethering yourself to the edge of the truth.

"Ah," Daemon let out a knowing sigh "Young love."

"It's wrong," you hissed "It is love, however." you tutted, shaking your head for having these thought, your mind yet agains filling with the image of curt Septa Marlow with a cane in her hand. Death, that's what such thought entail by the Seven.

"Would you be happier if you told her, having a partner is a blessing," he smiled, honestly happy about what you felt for his niece, there wasn't a moment where Daemon wished not to thrive within the mess that was his family, but something so pure and confused sat by his feet. Finding remorse in his heart for both girl, perhaps they would taste the choice he never got should Daemon be King someday as his brother's heir.

"You have a partner, are you happy?" clearly toying with his disdained marriage, he scowled at you. "You spend the better part of the year with us and the rest with your paramour."

"Where have you heard of my paramour?" Daemon let out a questioning scoff, pondering on where might the little princesses had managed to hear of his whore mongering habits.

"Lord Hand may have mentioned something at supper," you shrugged, "The Mother better not provide me with a husband like you, I might lose my mind."

"You are two and ten, what do you know of love." He japed throwing the grass you threw at him back.

"More than you, the writers are better at professing love than you my prince. Perhaps I could lend you a book." You teased back.

"Perhaps you could," He chortled, leaning back against the tea bark.

"You should bring Lady Rhea a cat, perhaps a white one." You offered, genuine advice, everyone loved cats; apart from Queen Aemma, they made her sneeze like a mad woman. "She'd be more agreeable."

Damon laughed, "She may actually poison the poor thing."

You never understood why Daemon was so open to half the things you and Rhaenyra hurled at him. Young ladies often confessed to their septas but you were sure she would have painted your palms red with a cane if you confessed that you loved a girl. The more your head toiled with those immoral questions, you grew silent once more.

"Apart from your lady wife; had you ever found love?" You asked him out of sheer curiosity.

"You are far too young to worry about such things little princess." He said while shaking his head, his eyes soft as he tried to find a solution to your juvenile problems. "Perhaps if you do want to confess your love, you ought to kiss her."

You shot up straight, looking at him confused "What if do and then I'm with a babe- I don't want a babe; I'd be ruined!" You hissed

Daemon slapped his palm on his forehead "Who has told you of such falsehoods?"

"Septa Marlow did." Your mind began wondering, what would Rhaenyra's babes look like...

"Demented hag," He muttered under his breath "I can assure you, princess, one does not come with a child from a kiss; if that were so. King's Landing would be swarming with my bastards."

"Oh- so I can kiss her?" You blushed, and a new hope flared in your chest.

"Yes, as much as you like." He smiled at your excitement.

"Your grace," A servant girl bowed as she entered the gardens "Dinner has been served in his grace's solar."

Daemon escorted you to his brother's solar, Viserys was already in his seat with Aemma. Just as their family poured into his solar, Aemma's face lit up. You moved around the table, bowing to Viserys before pressing a kiss on Aemma's cheek before sitting down next to her. Her mothering began the second she saw you, tutting at stray pieces of grass tangled in your hair.

"How are feeling today, your grace." You questioned about her condition, yet another pregnancy that she announced four moons before and since then her face began paling, she couldn't join you in the Godswood to help you garden your plants.

"Better, the babe should begin kicking soon enough." She said as she rubbed her belly.

"The boy shall add another to your army I reckon," Viserys japed, letting out a fatherly chuckle along with Daemon.

The doors creaked open when Rhaenyra finally arrived, she too pressed a kiss to her mother and then her father's cheek before sitting herself across from you. "Forgive me, I was carried away with Alicent."

You wanted to scream at the back of your mouth, you didn't want to feel this way. Alicent was your friend, you were a good girl and not a bully. You were being cruel to her in your head but you couldn't stand how much time Alicent was taking away from Rhaenyra. Taking her to the fool's shows and bird watching, she even took Rhaenyra to the Sept. Rhaenyra does not pray, let alone believe in the seven!

You toyed with your food for a while, pushing peas back and forth with your fork, to which Viserys took note "You ought to eat child." He voiced his concerns about making your fork stop its scraping.

"Forgive me, your grace, I'm not very hungry." You shrugged "May I please be excused?"

Viserys looked around the table and sighed, nodding. You said your farewells and sprinted to your room. You breathed out deep stress-infused sighs, grumbling under your breath as you cuddled a pillow on your window bed.

Stupid...stupid girl for thinking she would feel the same way for you, other than a sister.

What if she felt that way for Alicent? Mayhaps that's the reason she began to pull away from you...

It was sinful in so many ways, pillow biters. That's what the older ladies sniggered about in the halls. Were you a pillow bitter? Could girls even be pillow bitters? You tried to concentrate on the book you decided to finish and yet your mind just wouldn't seize its endless blathering.

Your door opened after a series of knocks, in walked Queen Aemma with two servant girls, hauling along a tray of fruits and a glass of milk. "It isn't wise to go to bed on an empty stomach, it will ache tomorrow." She patted your hair, choosing to sit opposite you. "Finish the whole thing."

You whined at the cup of milk, you didn't exactly hate the beverage but gods did it taste absurd some days. She gave you a comforting push, smiling as you tried to consume the cup in one go; perhaps that way your tongue wouldn't linger in its flavour afterwards. You sighed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Good girl," She said, looking out the glaring moon that graced your window "Now tell me what disturbs you? Is it your home again?"

If only it were that simple, you stopped crying about your home more than three years ago, your father abandoned you and your brother was the sole reason your blood still stained its Dornish colours. You meekly shook your head, hoping she would leave the subject at that.

"If it's people at court sweetling, if they malign you in any way. You must tell me." She gently held your jaw, lowering her face to make you meet her glistening eyes.

"Yes, your grace."

"Alright then," She leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, before letting you reciprocate with one on her cheek "Do not stay awake for too long."

You remembered your conversation with Daemon, more so how he always seemed to acquire what he wanted by the sheer strength of his will. The sheer strength of your will, that's what you need. Just a little bit of bravery, for what is the worst that could happen. They have your gelded for making an impasse at the only crown princess of the Targaryen dynasty.

You padded your feet over next door, greeting Ser Westerling who was stationed outside your and Rhaenyra's apartments for tonight. Her room was empty, though prepared for her slumber as fresh incense burned off her receiving table, linens just moved around to sleep in. You shuffled yourself onto her bed. Sitting on your knees at the centre.

"Rhaenyra I love you, in a not sisterly way..."

"I speak from the depth of my heart, I profess my devotion to you sweet princess... no...no that is far too melodramatic."

You began speaking to yourself in your head, insanity, pure insanity. You were sure if you thought too hard; you'd lose yourself in your own mind full of cats, dragons and knights and ten versions of Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra's chamber doors finally opened, she shuffled in; pulling at her earrings as she kicked her slippers away before pulling a sack from her pockets to place on her dresser. Humming a little song under her breath before her eyes fell on you sitting in her bed, she squealed. Placing a palm on her chest, clearly shuddered in shock.

"Seven- what are you doing here?" She questioned, eyes wide as she pushed the little sack away further.

"You didn't come to hug me before bed- so I thought I would visit you." You shrugged awkwardly

"I- I was with Alicent, lost track of time." She said as she stretched the back of her neck.

"Oh-"

Don't say it

Don't say it- you fought your tongue with all your might

"Princess, do you not wish to be my friend anymore?" You said sounding insecure and solemn.

Rhaenyra looked taken aback "What makes you say that."

"You spend all your time with Alicent, going to the markets, the Sept and spend your evenings in her solar... it's just she is your friend too but I rarely see you anymore." You mumbled your words out in one giant sentence.

"I- you silly duck." She curled her lips in her mouth to stifle a growing smile. "We were making preparations for your name day." She confessed, looking amused at your pouted face.

"So...you do want to be my friend." You questioned again to be clear.

"Why would I not." she exclaimed throwing herself onto her bed "You shall always be my dearest companion." She pulled you down into a hug.

Tell her

Tell her

Daemon's voice taunted you.

"Can I kiss you?" You blurted out, your palms began to sweat

Please do not me have gelded

Or beheaded

Rhaenyra looked at you quizzically before turning her head to offer you her cheek. That too in definition was a kiss but that wasn't what you meant. You fumbled with your fingers as your brain racked up ways to confess your passions for your dearest princess

"I meant- have you ever noticed how Viserys always goes straight to Aemma whenever she visits him, the first he does is kisses her." You said trying not to fumble over your words "Well, whenever you visit my stomach flutters in butterflies and all I want to do is kiss you."

Rhaenyra tilts her head, looking confused yet almost grasping at what you meant.

"I love you," You confessed

"So do I." She replied innocent words shared many times over between the two of you.

"No- I love you like a knight would his lady." You elaborate, again fear flaring in your chest.

Please do not have me exiled

"Like a knight loves his lady...?" She repeated, thoughts flooding behind her purple eyes "So are you the knight or the lady."

"I- what?" Her reply confused you, was she happy; was she mad? You couldn't quite place an emotion on her face "Uh- the lady."

"Then I love you like a knight too," She replied smiling ear to ear.

"Wait you do?" You were sure the smile that spread on your face made you look like a drunken fool but you had not a care in the known.

She nodded eagerly "Do we kiss now?"

"I believe so," You agreed, heat rushing to your cheek as your pursed your lips towards her, her soft lips pressed against yours as she graced you with a chaste kiss.

The two of you broke apart in a fit of giggles, Rhaenyra blushed red as you fanned at your warm face.

"That was very nice," she said awestruck, before pulling you closer for another.

"My knight," you whispered against her lips.

next chapter

[themainreactor]

"Would you care to be my lover?"

In which, Giyuu almost dies and is afraid to rest without knowing whether or not you would still love him if he passed away. He doesn't want you to forget him and he wants you to know that he loves you more than he thought he ever could.

Giyu didn't think that he was afraid to die

He never had been.

After all, it was just the natural order of things to die was it not?

So what was the point in trying to avoid it?

At least that's what he had kept telling himself. But ever since he met you... It's been rather difficult to understand anything in a reasonable light.

He also fell for you the moment that he set his eyes on you. Of course he didn't know that, but he found out later.

You were a Hashira and you kept yourself so undetected that barely anyone even knew you.

When he first noticed you, his intention weren't to be rude when he had asked who you were.

For some reason, he was desperate to know who you were, like it was something he needed.

He only received a small smile and later he realized that you had been a hashira for almost ten years.

You had been a hashira before he was even a demon slayer.

Apparently you didn't mind that he didn't know, or that he was the only Hashira to know you were alive at the moment.

Apparently this had happened multiple times where you would be in a room with everyone else and listen in without actually conversing or interacting with the others.

Apparently you literally stood next to him every single meeting with the master and he hadn't even noticed once.

But how? You were always there so how come he didn't feel any sort of familiarity around you?

He felt almost guilty, he didn't know what to do.

And yet here he was, watching as you sat down under a tree at your estate. You were just closing your eyes in quiet, nostalgic peace. He was still so confused and intrigued at the same time.

He had even asked the other Hashira and demon slayers, trying to figure more about you only get answers of 'who are you talking about?' Or 'I don't know'.

Shinobu of course had to make fun of him for such pretending, after all, it didn't seem like you were even a real person.

So no one believed that there was another Hashira, and Giyu didn't bother anyone about it.

Except for the master.

The master knew who you were, thank goodness, it made Giyu feel less stupid. He seemed happy about hearing your name come from a hashira and he seemed proud of Giyu for noticing in the first place.

You were a very quiet and reserved person, yet your fighting style involved words.

Basically, your breathing technique helped you tap into frequency, which in turn, gave you the power to control frequency and what people heard.

So technically, you had been staying undetected on purpose, using the breathing style to control the frequency your own body gave off.

Although, you must have slipped up when Giyuu actually noticed you, you wonder how that happened.

Giyu's still baffled about your existence and has no idea what to do about it.

"Try and get close to her, she is a stoic and indifferent person like you. However, she has no one to talk to besides me and she doesn't like to burden people. She denies it but she needs to find a companion and you happen to be the first hashira to notice her."

Those were the words of his master, Kagaya Ubuyashiki. But the question was, how was he supposed to be around you if you were like him?

Even he knew how hard it was to be around himself so how much harder would it be to be around you, especially if you didn't want anyone around you to begin with?

It's not like that was going to stop him though. Whether the master had told him to talk to you didn't matter because he would have done it anyway.

"Hello..." Giyu greeted you, feeling uneasy as he approached you. All he did in that moment was stand in front of you like a lost dog.

You were pretty sure that he would have forgotten you in due time but instead he had decided to talk to you again. It was cute.

Maybe you could afford to indulge him.

"Hi." You plainly replied, watching as Giyu decided to sit next to you under the tree. Giyu seemed nervous, like he didn't want to make a bad impression but at the same time he looked like he would smack you if you insulted him.

What a strange look to such a young man.

"So... How was your day?" He asks, looking ahead of him and trying to control his breathing. He didn't like how strange he felt, but he wasn't sure if it was from your breathing technique or from him being so nervous.

"My day was fine... How about yours?"

"Good... My day was good." Giyu continues, not really sure what else to say. This was a good way to start a conversation right?

"Good, that's nice."

"Yes... Well... Your hair looks nice." He's being very gentlemanly he thinks, that is a good thing when talking to women right?

"... Thank you..."

"You're welcome."

Damn, you weren't making this easy for him. You felt like such a kind and gentle person and he didn't understand why you wouldn't want to be seen.

Then again, people had their choices and he respected that, however he wanted to get to know you without feeling like he was being so pushy.

"Why are you like this?" Giyu questions, finally looking at you with a straight face only to receive a confused glare from you.

"Pardon?"

Crap, he didn't mean to offend you.

"Sorry... I just mean... Well... Why do you hide yourself from everyone else?"

"... Oh." Was all you said, not answering his question for some time before looking up at the sky.

"I don't like to cry."

Now you just confused him even more than before.

"... Cry? What do you mean?" He asks, keeping his gaze on your face. You look very pretty to him and he wonders how he hadn't seen you before even with your breathing technique.

"I don't want to get too close to people and have them die because I wasn't strong enough." You start, making eye contact with him in hopes he would understand.

"I don't want anyone to have to cry when I die either. Death only brings pain and familiarity only breeds contempt. So I guess you can say that I am running from reality."

"So you would rather have someone not know you existed so that they don't cry about your death?" Giyu asks, feeling less confused but more sad. He had thought about stuff like this very little but clearly you thought about it all the time.

"Yes, I don't like to cry."

For quite some time, the two of you stay quiet, just sitting under the tree and enjoying the silence. Of course you were enjoying the silence, Giyu thought you were crazy.

As much as Giyu had taken a liking to you in such a short amount of time, Giyu couldn't decide whether or not to label you as a psychopath, depressed or a high functioning sociopath.

You were willing to disappear for yourself and others as if you weren't alive. And yet, he didn't understand why you would avoid the inevitable.

"Do you not have anyone?"

"I have our master..." You comment, smiling at the thought of Kagaya since he was someone who had allowed you to be where you were today. He was like a father to you.

"Anyone else?"

"... No."

Giyu stayed quiet again, thinking of something before sighing and standing up.

"Let me then."

"... What?" You ask, confused at what he said.

"Let me be that other person."

You watch him as he stands his ground, clearly serious about what he said. He wants to be around you, to make sure you're okay and he could care less whether it was selfless or selfish of him to ask.

"Why? You don't know me."

"I want to know you... Here."

Giyu pulls out a few questionable things from his mismatched haori, he seemed to be looking for something specific and it was making you slightly nervous since he shouldn't really be carrying a bunch of... Rope. Why did he have that much rope?

Finally he pulls out a small ribbon and starts tying it around his wrist, why? You have no damn clue.

"Whenever you enter a room that I'm in, you should pull on this, that way I know you're there." He starts, grabbing his other items including the rope and placing them back in his haori.

"Why?" You ask, scratching the back of your head in slight annoyance. You didn't want him to try so hard, otherwise he wouldn't forget about you.

"Because I want to know when you're around me so I can be your acquaintance."

"You don't have to worry, I don't feel lonely or anything like that."

"That's fine, I just want to know when you're there."

"But-"

"I insist... I will not try to fix you nor will I make you cry, but I would like to at least be a companion for you to talk to."

For some reason his words made you feel warm, like he meant them. You didn't know why he wanted that, but it was sweet and scary at the same time.

You weren't sure if you liked it or not but as far as you were concerned, this was something that you shouldn't allow.

After all, he might die and then you might end up crying.

Or the other way around... You don't want him to cry because of you.

Then again.

Maybe you could afford to indulge him a little bit longer.

What's the harm in that when he would eventually forget you anyway?

"Okay."

"Alright then."

This went on for months, you pulling on that stupid ribbon like he asked you to so that he would know you were there.

The two of you have now become acquainted and maybe even close to friends. However you don't know what to do with yourself.

You taught him things about you, your breathing technique and the way you fought while Giyu taught you about his own and even a bit of his past.

You felt stupid and you didn't like the unfamiliar feeling of getting so close to someone like you have with Giyu. You didn't like the feeling you had when you thought about him.

You didn't like it...

You hated it...

You hated it so much...

But you liked it at the same time...

Oh, how you loved it, but that's what scared you the most.

Because if you loved it, that would mean that you loved him.

He was supposed to forget you but he didn't, you just ended up coming on his mind more often.

Eventually you got used to it and even felt more comfortable about it. Eventually he didn't even need you to pull the ribbon for him to know you were in the room.

But he still wore the tiny, red cloth. A stupid ribbon that made your heart flutter every time you saw it.

It seemed like he could faintly feel the change when you were around.

You still didn't like it and yet you felt very special to have someone like Giyu care enough about wanting to know you.

Why couldn't you make up your damn mind?

Not only that, if you think you're the one having a hard time with this, take an actual look at Giyu for once in your life.

He's always gentle around you and yet his hands get all sweaty and he clams up. He doesn't remember feeling this way around you before, he just remembers being nervous, not sweaty and lightheaded. He doesn't remember getting vivid fascinations of you in his mind.

He can't tell if it's the feeling of just doing a drug or of absolute distress. He likes being around you but he's so nervous at the same time. He can't help but act differently around you than the other Hashira. He wanted to desperately kiss you and he had never wanted to kiss anyone else before.

It was almost as if he had a crush on you but there was no way to determine that. Even with all the scrolls he read on the topic in hopes to explain what he was feeling.

He didn't like this feeling of his chest tightening and his face brightening up. Most of the Hashira could even see the change in Giyu, how he looked more happy, even with his neutral face.

What made it worse was the thoughts he had about you. His frantic fantasies about you being closer to him, being with him in ways he wouldn't utter. He prayed that this was just love and not lust but he couldn't tell.

He had even tried to talk to Kagaya about it, but he had just dismissed him with a laugh, saying that he would get used to it over time and that it was an experience to try and keep.

And Giyu had to make it worse by being bold one day and kissing your cheek after you had come back from the Swordsmith village.

That was a fun and welcoming surprise for you which only clarified how you felt about him. Unfortunately it made Giyu want to hide in a corner for the rest of his life right after.

This is why no one likes him he's sure, he's weird and thinks things that he shouldn't about other women. Then again, he's never thought about it with another woman besides you.

Everyone was sure that he was a lonely weirdo that wouldn't find anyone. Maybe he would.

Mitsuri, Rengoku and Uzui are sure he is in love even though they didn't know who it was. Sanemi and Obanai just think he's high, either way he likes it.

He likes it...

He's sure he likes it...

He likes it so much.... Maybe too much

But he doesn't at the same time...

He loves it, but that's what scares him...

It scares him because that would mean that he has fallen for you.

He has fallen for you hard.

He loves you.

The two of you fell in love too fast and now you might as well start courting.

I mean, what else are you going to do?

The real problem was the fact that you didn't want to be emotional and Giyu didn't want to cause you pain if anything were to happen.

Yet he couldn't help himself when he wanted to be around you. It made him feel alive and he wasn't sure what to do.

So that's how he finds himself almost a year later.

He's in fear of his life because he almost died on a mission and the impending love he had for you about to explode his heart wasn't helping either.

All he knew is that he had to get to you, he had to tell you everything. Whether or not he ruined the relationship or was healed yet.

He fought against the Kakushi to get out of the butterfly mansion, not caring if he would hurt himself more.

Aoi tried to stop him and he wasn't trying to be rude, he was just a man on a mission and the fact of the matter is that he could care less.

He even scared Shinobu when she watched him walk out of the mansion. She tried to tell him to rest but if she was being honest, there was no real point in trying when he was moving so fast.

When Giyu finally found you standing outside and looking at the red, cloud-filled sunset, he tried to give a small smile but even that couldn't mask the weariness that showed on his face.

Despite how tired he was, he wanted to see you first, before even allowing himself to rest. He wouldn't rest, not yet.

It seemed that his feelings for you were so strong that even the exhaustion and pain he had just experienced wouldn't stand in the way of confirming something that he desperately needed to know.

"Giyu? Aren't you supposed to be healing at the butterfly mansion?" You ask in surprise as you watch him walk towards him. You were nervous cause here he was, trying to walk around in your house like a normal person.

Not that Giyu wasn't strong because he was and you loved seeing him when he was around, but he needed his rest and he deserved it.

You had listened into a conversation that Gyomei was having with Mitsuri. He was saying that Giyu was going to be taken to the butterfly mansion for healing even though he could still stand and walk around when the clean up crew found him.

Giyu was taken back by your concern, but he quickly hid it behind his usual calm demeanor. It seemed out of character for him to show any kind of vulnerability. Not that he wasn't going to show it eventually.

"I was at the butterfly mansion for healing, but I wanted to see you first, and check on you." His voice was slightly hoarse from the amount of screaming he probably did on his mission.

"How have you been? Are you doing alright?" Giyu inquired, hoping to see some sign of affection from you.

"I'm fine, thank you." You responded with a small smile, flattered that he wanted to check on you to make sure that you were okay. The funny thing was the fact that he was the one that almost died.

"You shouldn't be walking around like this when you're injured." You continued, standing still for a moment before looking at his hand.

Hesitantly, you softly grab a hold of his hand and meticulously massaging his palm. Your thought was that would make him feel better.

As far as he was concerned, all the heat in his body went straight to his... Cock?

Lord have mercy. No way in hell was Giyu going to even allow that to interfere with anything, at least not yet.

Giyu didn't expect you to be so gentle with him, yet he welcomed the gesture. He always kept others at arm's length, but with you, he couldn't help but find himself comfortable enough with your touched.

That’s probably why he suddenly got all hard.

He smiled at your concern, not yet accepting that he could be this vulnerable and dependent.

"I'm okay, it's really nothing." Giyu said, trying to downplay the seriousness of his mission.

"I'm just glad you're alright." He whispered softly.

You nodded your head, not looking at him and keeping your gaze focused on his hand. You knew that he was lying and not only was he injured, he was so stressed out that you could feel it in his hands and arms.

"You must be tired." Was all you said as you started to massage his fingers and then slowly up his arm. You felt bad for him since he looked so tired and the fact that he wanted to see you in this state was almost romantic. It was definitely cute.

Giyu's pride wouldn't allow him to accept any help, but he also knew that deep down he needed your comfort and reassurance. As you continued to massage his hands and arm, he found himself wanting to return the gesture.

When he finally looked at you, he found it hard to speak. The expression on your face made him feel butterflies in his stomach. In that moment, he could only think of how lucky he was to know such a lovely woman. As he looked up at you, he gently pulled you closer.

He's so glad that you slipped up on your breathing technique, otherwise he still wouldn't know you.

"I don't feel so tired anymore." He whispered, clearly knowing what to do even though he had no clue what to do. This must have all been from instinct because he had no experience in this.

"No?" You ask him, allowing him to pull you closer to him. Whether it was an attempt for a hug or something more you didn't know but you felt comfortable. Although you had a feeling he was trying to initiate something.

"Why aren't you tired anymore?" You continue, being just as gentle with his other hand as you were with the last one you massaged.

Giyu pulled you even closer, his face just inches away from yours. A small but tired smile spread across his lips as he began to answer your question.

"Because you're here, and I want to stop beating around the bush."

He looked into your eyes with an intensity that seemed almost animalistic. He wanted to show you how special you were to him, and what better way than to express it physically.

He was going to love on you... Not like that though, he was just going to kiss you until you yell at him to stop.

At least, in his mind it seemed like a good idea, although it may have just been from your physical touch but he was absolutely sure he loved you.

"... Well have you eaten anything recently?" You ask as he slowly buried his head in the crook of your neck.

You felt flattered, you felt more than flattered. You and Giyu both had been courting in a way and it was quite obvious that the two of you liked each other. Even so, you didn't really know what else to do.

Giyu nuzzled your neck before answering you, his words mixed with soft chuckles of affection.

"No, I haven't had anything to eat yet." He admitted.

"You should eat."

"I'll eat later, it can wait."

You both had been so busy with Hashira work and beating around the bush that romance had been pushed to the side. Now that the two of you had time, it was time that you both dealt with your feelings. He wasn't going to let you go without at least talking to you about how he felt.

"I was worried I wouldn't make it back... I was... I was so scared" Giyu confessed, his head still resting on your shoulder. "But I... I very much like you, I think... That I love you. So I wanted to come back to tell you that."

"... You... Do you really love me?" You ask, wanting to hear him say it again. Maybe you should have paid more attention to your mother when she said that you'll experience a love like this.

"Yes... I believe I love you more than anything, and I was scared of leaving without you knowing that. I don't know why, but I thought of you and I was so scared... I didn't know what to do, I know I love you."

"... Thank you." You respond, placing your hand on top of his head as Giyu kisses your cheek. He had kissed you once but hadn't given you a kiss since then.

"I missed you, I was hoping that you would be okay so that I could see you again." You comment with a small but warm smile. Even though you could be naive sometimes, clearly he was confessing to you. "I... I love you too... Maybe I should have said that sooner."

As the moment became more intimate, Giyu knew that he couldn't handle not kissing you anymore.

Looking up at you with eyes that were full of affection and adoration, he moved his face up to touch yours. Your lips made contact with each other as Giyu's hand moved behind your head, his thumb slowly caressing you.

He was sure that he loved you, it couldn't be just lust because if it was, he wouldn't have thought about you when he almost encountered his death bed.

"Thank you for always being there for me." Giyu whispered as he lost himself in a moment that he had never felt before.

Giyu was feeling dumb, filled with color and emotion while you happened to be hyper aware. Maybe this was a good thing, a small amount of love could go a long way in a short amount of time.

"You're welcome." You mumbled, letting Giyu kiss your forehead before giving you a small kiss on your nose.

Heck, he could marry you right now and he wouldn't mind. In fact, he would love that.

You leaned in, kissing him and not knowing where to put your hands before finally deciding to let them hold onto Giyu's haori

Giyu had no time to feel lightheaded and embarrassed, he wasn't prepared but he wasn't going to hold off.

He loved you, and he knew that. He also knew that you must have loved him if you had kissed him back. The two of you weren't acquaintances or friends anymore.

He would be so happy if you would care to be his lover and maybe in the future, his wife.

...

"We'll be prepared, I'm sure since-" Tanjiro quickly stopped, looking at the sight of Giyu and a woman he did not recognize.

It was very cute and Tanjiro couldn't help but smile at the lovingness that Giyu seemed to show the female.

Tanjiro would have left to give the couple privacy if he hadn't been walking with both Muichiro and Genya.

"Who is that?" Muichiro asks, gazing at the woman while trying his absolute best not to smile at the romantic sight.

"Whatever, let's just go!" Genya yells, clearly embarrassed by the whole thing.

"Shh! Don't yell Genya!"

"It seems like a beautiful demon slayer has caught the attention of a Water Hashira." Muichiro starts, pretending to be the invisible narrator in some unknown story while being way too flamboyant.

"Seriously?"

"Oh c'mon Genya, have some fun."

"Let's give the two some privacy." Tanjiro comments, chuckling as the three of them walk off.

Tanjiro and the rest were apparently wrong. It seemed like Giyu wouldn't be alone for the rest of his life, and Tanjiro was happy for him.

[yujo-nishimura]

Red Hair or Red Nose? - Part 2

Thank you all for asking for part 2 and the ongoing support. This is so much fun to write, so I hope you have the same fun while reading. <3

The two of them, occupied by their fight, had not realized you were behind them and you just kept watching this scene unfolding in front of you.

“Next time you play a prank like this on me I will kill you, Shanks. Damn you!" In a fit of anger, Buggy had torn his body into disconnected parts, an act of frustration that momentarily disrupted the scene. However, with a collected demeanor, he swiftly reconnected his disassembled body and resumed his composure. "You can consider yourself lucky tonight. I am in a good mood and just decided to enter this pub to get some drinks. And since I arrived first on this island and in this town I have priority in buying their stock of whiskey and rum…!” 

“What about we enter this place at the same time and have a drink together just like the good old times?”

“A drink with you?” Buggy exclaimed, “I'd rather never drink again than with someone like you, you damned monkey!”

As Shanks took a step forward towards the pub, his gaze fell upon you. A subtle shift in his expression betrayed a momentary surprise, but whether he recognized you or was simply taken aback by your presence remained unclear. He chuckled lightly, his voice tinged with amusement. "Seems you were so noisy, Buggy, you attracted an audience from inside the pub."

Buggy, prompted by Shanks' comment, turned to look at you as well, his face and eyes unaffected, indicating that he likely had no recollection of who you were. He immediately changed to his usual flashy, entertaining self.

“Oh hello there!” Buggy said with a sly grin, “I see you've brought a lovely companion tonight, Shanks. But she's far too exquisite for a pirate like you!”

You gasped - what were they talking about? 

Shanks, however, swiftly corrected the assumption. His gaze fixed directly upon you, he smiled and addressed you, "Unfortunately, I did not bring this lovely lady with me."

"I came here because you two disturbed my calm and peaceful evening!" you finally found your voice, the words escaping your lips with a mix of frustration and determination. In that instant, you noticed a flicker of recognition in Shanks' eyes. Perhaps it was your voice, your manner of speaking, or a combination of both, but it seemed that he had finally realized who you truly were.

"Apologies for the disturbance my dear friend Buggy has caused!" Shanks interjects, causing Buggy to shake his head in surprise at the unexpected term of "friendship". "I assume you're familiar with the pub's menu, so perhaps you could recommend a drink for us? And as a gesture of peace, allow us to buy you one as well."

Shanks takes a step closer to you, his towering figure now more imposing than ever. His broad shoulders and the three scars adorning his left eye serve as a testament to the challenges he must have  faced. Despite his daunting presence, you don't feel small or intimidated, but rather protected and safe. The calm aura that surrounds him soothes your senses, and his captivating smile leaves you feeling somewhat weak in the knees.

"I wouldn't mind another drink..." you murmur, unable to maintain eye contact with Shanks, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness within you.

Shanks extends a welcoming gesture, calling out to Buggy. "Come on, Buggy. Just like the good old times, as friends!" His words hold a subtle excitement, and a knowing smile graces his face. In that moment, you realize that Shanks has indeed recognized you and is glad to see you. However, it dawns on you that Buggy remains oblivious to your true identity, adding an extra layer of amusement for Shanks. You both suddenly smile at each other.

With a mixture of anticipation and curiosity, you join Shanks and Buggy, ready to embrace the reunion...

To be continued.

[animequeen4]

Adam x reader

story take place in the garden of Eden (just wanted to try something)

Here @mamamim thanks for the encouragement to write this please enjoy

Yn pov:

I didn’t know what to do anymore

I was originally made to be a companion for the Angel Lucifer as a way to keep him distracted from the humans as heaven has notice he had been spending too much time with the humans getting in the way of them of what their supposed to do. But sadly it did not work and Lucifer and Lilith had fell I love running away leaving me without a purpose making me feel empty inside. I go to one of the trees in the garden and proceeded to try silently. As I am crying I do not hear the sound of someone coming. When I come to, I noticed the human Adam looking at me annoyed until he saw my face.

Adam was not exactly happy to see another Angel considering one just recently stole his wife. but upone seeing the female Angel he feels pity for her. “what is wrong with you?”

“Oh I’m sorry I thought you were on the east side of the garden I’ll go if I’m bothering you” I start to feel even worse knowing that someone saw me at this sad and pitiful state blushing profusely and about to fly off

“wait!… You don’t have to go we can just sit here if you want”

“Um sure I guess it’s better than being alone” sits back down

after that moment be become closer and even become friends. It was a bit awkward after Eve was created but we still made it work and even after he was kicked out of Eden I keep and eye out on him

when he finally made it into heaven we became even closer and somewhere along the way we fell in love next thing I know I made his 3rd and final wife. Things only got better when we found out I some how got pregnant. Adam says it’s because of his “angelic sperm” but we honestly don’t know 😖 either way we are excited and happy and all though it still hurts to think about luci leaving me in heartbreak I wouldn’t change it any way if it meant I didn’t meet Adam and get our happy ending

one day Adam says he wants me to come with him that he wanted me to come with him to a meeting even though it’s in hell and I was 7 months pregnant. he said it was just a simple meeting with Lucifer and his daughter it would be quick and lute couldn’t go with him since she had the day off and he couldn’t get in contact with her and he trusted me. After much discussion and him promising to get me some pickles and ice cream, to carry me there because flying has become a lot harder due to the extra weight and soreness, and him promising to stop complaining about my weird pregnancy cravings and to give me a massage and cuddles later I agreed to go (let’s just say I used this to my advantage a lot)

We got to the meeting room early and waited to meet the father and daughter duo. Charlie can first and came up to shake our hand's and when she saw the baby bump she immediately had start eyes. She even asked to if she can feel the baby bump but backed off upon seeing Adam’s annoyed face not long after she took her seat Lucifer came in

Lucifer pov:

As I was a bit late getting ready for the meeting so as I was getting ready i a got text from Charlie saying she is with Adam and some women who sounded familiar.

upon thinking I realized it was yn, the girl I left all those years ago. I still feel bad about it but I was in love with Lilith and was thrown out of heaven. What no one know was that I did have some feeling for her but I was in love with Lilith.

upon walking into the meeting room I am meet with my sweet Charlie, unfortunately Adam and yn. Granted she looked a little different now but she was still just as beautiful as when I was still in heaven.

After a bit of talking we are finally done and I decided to talk with her a bit unfortunately though we couldn’t really get close to each other due to us sitting on different side of the take. But as I was hoping she was still the same beautiful girl I remember.

yn pov:

As we are finishing me and Adam get up too leave and upon getting up Lucifer screams out “what the what?!?!”

“what?” “you’re pregnant?!?!” “Yes I am, 7 months to be exact” I smile fondly and start caressing my baby bump

“Oh that’s great! 😃 Amazing even! Who’s the lucky guy?” He asks all nervously

Adam then proceeds to come closer and hug me from behind picks me up and Carry me while making a smug face

“Yup I did that”

“WHAT?!?!” Both Charlie and Lucifer asks surprised but Lucifer says especially

“Yes me and Adam are married and he is the father” I say trying not to act flustered and shows them the wedding ring on my finger

“Wow this is wow I did not expect Adam to want any more children. But I am happy for you” Lucifer says with a little sadness behind his tone

“Thank you and it was nice seeing you Lucifer”

as Adam turns around to walk through the portal still carrying me he looks behind him one last time giving Lucifer a smug smile knowing he now is the one with a loving wife and being loved while luci now know what abandonment he and his wife felt life.

okay this took a while but here it is please be nice this is my first original writing piece thank you hope you all enjoy

[kittyuna]

when it rains

furina x reader

word count 1.7k

read me!!: no gender language used for reader !! anxious furina, ptsd furina, anxiety attack, reader comforts furina, happy ending

yuna’s thoughts: idk if ppl really wanna see furina but pls she so cute i just wanna nom her up ☹️ this is based off of her “when it rains” voice line! please enjoy! and always, if you like, feel free to leave an ask for something you’d like me to write!

For Furina, love wasn’t the first thing on her mind when she was relinquished from her duties. Though, her plans for a quiet life were quickly pushed aside by the traveler and their companion. So, she figured she might as well expand her relationships— platonically or not.

After the people of Poisson went through a devastating and preventable tragedy, Furina dealt with immense guilt and anxiety. There were always troubling voices in her head, she never stopped thinking. Her mind was so loud and she just wanted it to stop.

The day she met you, her mind went quiet. Horrific thoughts became less frequent and she was able to gain the strength to acknowledge and help in areas she should have before.

You truly saved her. Saved her from a lifetime of self destruction and anxious tendencies. She cherished your presence, your time, your love for her. “I promise, I’ll love you the best I can. It’s the only way I can even begin to repay you.”

Happiness was prevailing in your relationship, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t the bad moments. Especially when it rained.

You made a habit to check the forecast every night before bed and once in the morning. After Furina had revealed the rain to cause her to spiral, you wanted to make sure she was as comfortable as possible when it did.

Looking down at your phone, a frown fell upon your face. ‘Thunderstorms forecasted to begin shortly. Stay indoors and prepare in case of possible power outages.’ Shutting off the phone, you walked out of the bedroom, ready to prepare the house for the rain.

You spotted Furina in the kitchen. She hummed a soft tune to herself while brewing a cup of tea. Quietly, you walked into the living room, shutting all the curtains. You didn’t want her to see the sky darken, she knew that meant rain.

Pulling the last curtain shut made you realize how dark the lack of sunlight made the room. You walked over to a standing lamp and pulled the string, watching the light illuminate the room. With a content nod, you made your way into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Furina!” You called out sweetly. Her head quickly snapped to you, a delighted expression on her face. “Good morning, my love! Did you sleep well? I’m preparing some tea, if you’d like some.”

As you walked up to her, she turned around, looking back at the brewing tea. You wrapped your arms around her from behind, placing your head in the crook of her neck. “Tea sounds nice. Would you like me to reheat the pastries we brought yesterday?”

“What a splendid idea!” Furina’s hand found their way to yours, holding them as you continued to hug her. “They should be on the top shelf of the fridge.” Following her instructions, you let go of her to walk towards the fridge, which pulled a small disapproving hum for her as your touch faded.

Opening the fridge, you grabbed the box of pastries and placed them on the counter. “I was already going to do it…” Furina began, her tone laced with obviousness. “But I didn’t want to ruin them by making it too squishy,” the end of her sentence sad.

“You do it best! So I’ll take that one and that one!” She smiled at you before grabbing her cup of tea and walking to the living room. You laughed to yourself slightly before placing the pastries she requested in the air fryer. After setting the temperature and time, you followed her into the living room, watching her pick a movie on the tv.

“What are you thinking of watching?” Your arms leaned against the back of the sofa, intently watching her scroll through. “Well..” she leaned her head back to look at you. “I watched a beautifully made romantic comedy yesterday so I want to contrast that. Perhaps a murder mystery?”

You nodded at her answer, eyes trying to peak through a crack in the curtain, seeing if the rain had started yet. Furina’s eyes furrowed when she noticed you weren’t looking at her. “Hey..” she grabbed your chin, tilting it to look at her. “What’s outside that’s more interesting than moi?”

“Oh, nothing.” A reassuring smile grazed itself on your face before you leaned down more, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “May I be free now? Your pastries won’t serve themselves.” Instantly, she let go of your chin. “Yes, my love! Thank you again.” You nodded at the true sincerity of her words before walking back to the kitchen.

Opening the air fryer, you quickly grabbed the pastries and plopped them on the plate. “Should’ve used a mit,” you muttered to yourself, shaking your hand to distract it from the pain. Just as you picked up your tea and the pastry plate, you heard a loud thud come from the living room.

After sloppily placing down the cup and plate, you rushed into the living room. Your eyes first landed on the couch, seeing Furina wasn’t there. You noticed the curtain was pushed open slightly, the sight of the downpour and occasional lightning filled the room.

Walking further into the room, you found Furina on the floor, her back against the coffee table. “Furina?” Concerning lacing your voice as you quickly walked over to the curtain and shut it. Lowering yourself slowly to the floor, you noticed her eyes looked empty.

Small mutters left her mouth in a frantic and repetitive tone. “The water levels, have to stop them. Can’t let the people down. They’re gonna rise I need to do something. Do something. I need to do something.”

After fully positioning yourself next to her, you slowly reached out to place your hand on her knee. She instantly pulled away from your touch. “Don’t touch me!” She yelled, panic and anger tainted her words. Furina got like this when she became anxious. You didn’t take her words to heart no matter how harsh they were.

“Alright, I won’t touch you.” You acknowledged her wishes, she didn’t have the strength to thank you for that. Her hands rapidly tapped on her thighs, her entire body shaking. “The rain.. it’s need to stop. It’s bad, really bad.” Words barely pushed through her tears.

The sound of her chocked sobs filled the room. Your heart broke everytime you saw her like this. “The water levels won’t rise, I promise. Everyone is safe. The people of Fontaine, me, and you.” Taking a moment to see her reaction to her words caused you to pause. The same thing didn’t always work during these situations.

Sometimes, she needed you to be realistic. Other times, she appreciated delusions responses. The tapping of her fingers slowed, signifying that your words were affecting her positively. “You did your duties already to protect Fontaine. The prophecy is gone, everyone will be okay.”

Her sobs lessened, allowing breathes of air to come through. She sniffed a bit, prompting you to reach behind you to grab a tissue. Offering it, she gladly took it and began patting under her eyes before whipping her nose.

“Do you still want your pastries?” Furina nodded. “Yes, please bring them to me.” After walking to the kitchen and back, you placed the pastries and your tea on the coffee table. Swinging back around to the front of the table, you extended a hand to her.

She looked up through teary eyes, grabbing on to your hand. You pulled her to her feet, watching her not even take a second to gain her balance before she threw herself on to you. You accepted her embrace, slowly rubbing her back as the two of you hugged.

“I’m sorry.. I was just curious about what you were looking at. It was a bad idea to check.” She spoke into the hug. “Don’t apologize.” You replied stern yet sincere. “You never have to apologize for things like this, okay? I’m always here to help you.”

Furina’s arms squeezed around you tighter. You felt her arms tug you slightly and her feet move as she pulled you towards the couch. Letting go so you both could sit down, she sat on the couch first. You followed suit, sitting down next to her.

“Oh! I forgot I picked this one out yesterday!” If it wasn’t for the damp spots under her eyes, you would’ve never been able to tell she was crying. When Furina pulled away from the sweets plate and leaned back into the couch, you decided to take the opportunity to wipe away the rest of her tears.

You grabbed her chin, facing her towards you. “Hmm?” She questioned, chewing up a small piece of the pastry. Leaning closer to her you analyzed the tear spots under her eyes. You adjusted your sleeve and held it in your palm. Pulling your hand towards her face, you patted the tears under eyes.

She swallowed the remaining pastry, allowing herself to speak clearly. “Ah, thank you.” Her eyes shyly looked away from yours. Moving your hand to the other eyes, you patted under that one to before pulling your hand back.

Just as you were about to pull away, she grabbed your face in her hands. Pulling your face towards her, she placed her lips lovingly on you. Your arms snaked around her neck, finding comfort there as the two of you shared this intimate and comforting moment.

A smile accompanied by a pink tint on her face was a pleasant first thing to see after the kiss. You licked your lips, tasting the glaze of her pastries on your mouth. “Tasty.” You hummed.

Furina laughed at your response, reaching forward to grab the other one. “Would you like to split?” She wasn’t the type to share, especially the types of pastries she considered to be her favorite. You felt honored at the moment.

“I would love to.” She quickly split the pastry, handing you half of it. “Thank you again, truly. You go above and beyond to help me. I can only hope I find the means to repay you one day.”

You shook your head at her words. “You never need to repay me you know.” Furina’s head tilted out of curiosity. “Huh, why not?”

“Simple. I do this because I love you.”

[pigfacedbitch]

Dating Hort of Bloodbrook

summary : general headcanons of dating Hort while being the princess of Camelot.

word count : 0.7k

type : headcanons

pairing/s involved : Hort x Reader, Sibling! Tedros x Reader

warning/s : discrimination against Nevers and Evers.

here is my masterlist!

Note : I know this is late but this has been on my unfinished works since the movie came out. I fell in love with Hort, he is so cute and loyal to Sophie 🥹. I haven't read the books but I might soon when I need to escape reality again.

You will likely be a year younger than Tedros.

Because of the heir and the spare™.

I know it sounds bad but some rulers actually do those.

Tedros is extremely overprotective over you, especially when Queen Guinevere ran away with Lancelot and King Arthur died.

He's like the typical older brother you see in movies; handsome, buff, (kind off) a meathead, and annoys you to know end.

Will also be the first one to come to your defense.

When you got to the School of Good, you were determined to destroy the image of being Tedros' little sister.

Which results to you preferring to be a hero in your own story than being a queen in someone else's.

As expected, you quickly became friends with Agatha.

Not afraid to stand up to those who think girls are inferior to boys.

While the other Evers found the Nevers horrible for being future villains, you have a neutral perspective towards them.

After all, the School of Good has many stuck up and vain students.

Meeting Hort was definitely a memory to remember. It was when Professor Dovey took the first years to the Wish Fish (Let's pretend Agatha didn't free them).

When you put your hand on the water and begin to think of a wish, you didn't feel the water swirling like Agatha told you she experienced,

Instead, it was hand that intertwines its finger with yours.

And it harshly pulled you down the water.

The girls' screams and the professor calling out your name in panic caught the boys and Tedros' attention, running to the 'rescue'.

Under the water, you see someone smiling at you, or at least that's what you hopes he's doing.

A Never named Hort, son of Captain Hook.

Tedros immediately pulled you out of the water, with Hort in tow.

The angry professor commands the nearby guards to bring him back to the School of Evil and how Lady Lesso will surely punish him.

"It seems like I'm your wish, my lady."

He expects you to be disgusted like the other Evers. To his surprise, you give him the sweetest smile he has ever seen in his life.

"That you are, Hort of Bloodbrook."

To say Hort is surprised was an understatement.

You didn't only smile at him but also knew his name.

Cupid's arrow struck him at that moment. His villainous smirk drops, staring at you with wide eyes as much as he could before they were out of sight.

Tedros, who saw the whole thing, was not pleased and gave you a warning on how Nevers can't be trusted.

After your encounter, Hort seeks you out more.

You didn't mind, he is an odd yet funny companion.

He also doesn't care for one's physical appearance like the girls do or how you're nothing but a pretty face with a royal title like most guys think.

He encourages you to be yourself, like Agatha does.

You two would get judgmental looks from both sides.

Sophie was pissed, not only because Hort was losing interest in her but being the princess of Camelot is everything she wants to be.

So is Tedros. And everyone else who sees you together.

Agatha is just worried and would remind you to keep your guard up.

But you enjoy each other's company, that's what matters.

Hort was in love with you the moment you met but it took you a longer time to realize your feelings for him.

You only told Agatha about it but Tedros overheard.

Believe me when I say that Tedros will demand you to be examined.

"She's not under any spells, my prince."

"Are you certain?"

"Oh my God, I love Hort and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Everyone in the hall heard you.

Silence before a giddy howl ensues.

Hort runs to you and gives the biggest hug you could ever receive.

Despite being initially embarrassed, you returned it.

Before he could kiss you like he always dreamed of, Tedros stops him.

He pulls out Excalibur and points its tip on Hort's neck. Your brother will mercilessly give the poor boy threats if he broke your heart or hurt you in any way. Agatha joined in without words, just sending a warning glare on his way.

Hort would be lowkey terrified but so happy at the same time.

I mean you love him back. He could take a fucking army if you command him to.

Lady Lesso and Professor Dovey would only look at each other in disbelief, worried for what happens next.

[soulidarity]

companion

based on the companion robot chat story | xavier x reader/mc

after mc gets the new robot companion, xavier grows a bit jealous of the perfect companion

A knock at the door was heard, before MC could open it her new companion robot she had nicknamed phel was already on it.

as soon as it opened the door, a confused xavier greeted it. he looked at the robot and the door number, double checking he hadn't knocked on a stranger's door. chuckling at the situation, MC quickly went to greet him.

"thank you phel, i got it"

phel nodded and walked away, leaving a frowning hunter at the door.

"i didn't know you were busy." xavier said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"oh no! thats just phel, the robot companion we had talked about. I got it a few days ago, guess i forgot to tell you. come in"

the two walked in to the living room, the taller one wearily looking at the robot doing something in the kitchen as he sat down.

"whyd you get one?"

"im always too tired to do household chores, thought itd be a good way to lift up some stress from my shoulders"

phel aproached the two with tea, pouring it onto two cups, adding sugar to one of them.

"just how you like it, MC"

"thank you phel!" she smiled at it as xavier added sweetner to his own drink. the robot bowed and left the pair alone.

"i dont like it."

"oh is the tea not to your liking? i think i have other types, i can ask phel to make another pot-"

"no. i dont like the robot."

"...why?"

"its off putting. you dont need it"

"hm... i think it looks pretty great. its customizable"

"so you designed it?"

"if by designing you mean i selected the short brown hair and blue eyes option then yeah. i think i did some other stuff to it but not much."

the comment had made xavier frown even more. MC sighed and put her cup down.

"okay this is clearly a bigger problem than phel just being off putting, do you wanna talk about it?"

"well... not in front of it" he mumbled. MC rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. "Phel, we'll be in my room. Please dont enter unless an emergency has happened" the robot nodded and continued wiping the kitchen counter.

she dragged the sulking hunter and sat him on her bed, looking down at him she spoke "so, whats wrong?"

"is it your ideal type?"

"HUH?!"

"i mean you designed him to be what you like, right? if you want me to dye my hair thats fine-"

"woah hold on. are you jealous of it?"

xavier fell silent, fiddling with the string of his hoodie. MC sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and placing her chin on his shoulder.

"y'know i love you right? i could never replace you. much less with a robot."

"it can be here all the time, it can cook, entertain, comfort and other cool features the ad talked about..."

"yknow what it cant give me? it cant give me warmth during an over night mission. i cant feel its heartbeat rising because i did something cheeky. i cant see its gaze softening as it wakes up and realizes its me. it cant be xavier, and thats all i need."

the two stayed in their position as a soft silence filled the room, xavier placing a hand over hers and squeezing it.

"...i can learn how to cook"

"i- xavier you dont need to-" she said as she laughed.

"and im good at cleaning, ill help so get rid it"

she chuckled a bit more before placing a quick kiss on his lips. "ill return it tomorrow. and for the sake of our building, you can just buy me takeout."

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i always liked android and robot stories, i feel like theres a lot to explore even tho it has been getting repetitive in recent media. so when i got this chat i was inspired to do a fic based on it. first time writing xav kinda nervouse