#elven lovers gift

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

astarion ancunin hcs {pt. 1}

once he's comfortable with you, he adores non-sexual physical intimacy

playing with his hair will calm him down almost instantly

he's protective and possessive, so he'll keep a hand on you at all times, usually on your back

loves when you initiate any kind of physical contact

always asks to do something before he does, in either a sexual or nonsexual context

he's easily jealous and can sometimes get very possessive; for the first time in 200 years, he has someone who genuinely loves him and he hates the possibility that he might lose you

that possessiveness is obvious when he marks up your neck with bites and hickeys

if he feels like his place in your relationship is threatened in public, he will not hesitate to touch, hold, or kiss you in front of whomever is making a move on you; after some bearing of fangs, whoever it is usually scuttles off very quickly

he definitely feels very undeserving of you and your love and has his days when he's convinced you're going to leave him for someone better when you get the chance, or that he's keeping you from; that insecurity lasts for a very long time

constantly buries his own feelings, so you have to coax them out of him and teach him how to set boundaries and stand up for himself

astarion absolutely LOVES bathing together; he can be very vulnerable with you without sex being expected when you bathe together and it absolutely helps him regain some control and bodily autonomy

he loves gifting you things: jewelry, clothes, weapons, little knickknacks he sees that remind him of you

his elven ears are so sensitive and he absolutely will whine involuntarily when you brush your fingers over them (either on accident while you're touching his curls or on purpose)

speaking of which, astarion loves having his hair played with, it's a huge comfort to him (and another form of physical touch that isn't inherently sexual, so it's one of the ways to ease him back into being intimate and physical)

sexually, he's very switchy; some days he wants to be in control and giving you all the pleasure you deserve, but other days he's more than happy to let you take the lead and love on him

he loves staying up late to have deep talks and watch the sky (sun or moon and stars, it doesn't matter which to him)

cuddle this man. all the time. he's absolutely a cuddle bug. if you don't cuddle him while you go to sleep, he'll be very huffy, and you'll wake up to him curled up around you anyway

he also likes to be the little spoon sometimes, once he's comfortable with you seeing and being wrapped around his back

he will sew everything for you instead of teaching you to do it; he likes being useful in some little way for you (inspired by @aethes-bookshelf's post here because I saw it and went "you are absolutely right")

he commonly speaks to you in Elvish whether you understand it or not; it's absolutely a comfort to him, especially when you start picking up words and understanding some of what he says

contrary to the performances he puts on, astarion is a very gentle lover when he can finally be comfortable and genuine with you. he's quieter, softer, he takes the time to learn you and himself, he lets himself enjoy it; he learns to become a taker, not just a giver

he likes to hold you, however he can, and at the very least always be touching you. an arm around your waist or shoulders, a hand on the small of your back, holding your hand or twining your pinkies together. he can't be touching you, he's standing so close to you that he could be touching you if he moved a centimeter more

he likes to hug you randomly; one of his favorite ways to do it is to come up behind you while you're cooking or talking to someone or looking at yourself in the mirror to get ready so he can surprise you by putting his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder

astarion has a habit of kissing your neck whenever he can, sometimes it's a way to let you know he's hungry, other times when he wants to be intimate, other times just to remind you he loves you

on the same hand, he doesn't always say 'i love you' but instead makes it known through his behavior around you (and the fact that he's constantly looking at you like you are his whole world, because you are)

on the nights when you can't sleep, he reads to you until you drift off because he knows you find his voice soothing

he likes tucking his head into your neck and shoulder when the two of you sleep (which he finds out he actually likes doing every now and then)

the first thing astarion does when he wakes up is pepper you with little kisses on your shoulders, collarbones, cheeks, and forehead

when he's nervous and with people he's okay with knowing that, he'll reach for your hand and touch your fingers to calm down and ground himself. if you wear a ring or multiple rings, he'll play with those

astarion loves it when you call him by a nickname, either a shortened version of his name or a pet name. if he's fed recently and had enough blood, his cheeks will turn this adorable shade of pink when you call him "Star" or "my love" or something similar

how he wakes up from a nightmare changes constantly. the worse the nightmare, the worse his reaction when he wakes up. sometimes it's just a little gasp and his eyes flying open, sometimes it's a yelp and tears, sometimes he's crying before he even wakes up; but every time, his biggest comfort is to cling to you until the panic fades and then curl up in your lap (you've learned to light a candle or summon lights with magic when he wakes up from a nightmare; the shadows make him feel worse)

when you fall asleep outside of bed, he picks you up and carries you to bed and tucks you in—all without waking you

if you are injured at any point and there is no certainty that you'll pull through, he panics. he stays at your side the entire time, even if the smell of your blood is driving him mad, and holds your hand and talks to you, often begging you to wake up, to come back to him, to stay with him; more than once, you've woken up to find him with tears streaked down his face

every time you wake up from an injury and he realizes it, either because he's watching you or because you say hi to get his attention, he smothers you in kisses

once he's no longer starving, he likes to feed from you very slowly, to take his time and enjoy your taste; now that he's promised food, he doesn't feel the need to rush. feeding becomes very sensual, intimate, and personal for the two of you after that

he also loves leaving bites and drinking from you in places the others won't see; it makes him incredibly giddy to know that you let him bite you in places only he will ever see

if he's taller than you, he loves to kiss the crown of your head whenever he can

he will sew up your injuries whenever you need his help with it, even if the sight and smell of your blood makes him salivate

he loves touching your body to see how you react and lets you do the same to learn his own likes and dislikes

matching. outfits. he loves it, loves seeing people realize that you wear the same material and colors and realize what it means. he's very smug when people come to the realization that you're together

he frequently gives you his shirts to sleep in

if you are apart from him for any amount of time, expect to be tackled with a hug the minute you are reunited again

when you have the time, he likes to just lay in bed with you and relax together, half-asleep and cuddling and sometimes mumbling to each other pt. 2 coming soon

[littlejuicebox]

The wish spell worked.

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader/Tav

Summary/Setting: 10 years post BG3. Follows my HC for spawn Astarion arc. See my other fics for more information, but otherwise the title speaks for itself. :)

Rating/Warnings: PG / allusions to sexual behaviors / fluff / in-game spoilers / lightest bit of angst if you squint but not really / this is self-indulgent af and idc / so sweet it will rot your teeth

Word Count: 2.2 K

A/N: HAPPY 400 FOLLOWERS POST! Thank you to everyone who likes my stories and provides encouragement. I love you all! I originally wanted to post this as a New Years Eve/Day special, but I couldn't get it quite right by then. After several reiterations, this is what we finally have! Hope it was worth the wait and multiple edits for you guys! :)

-----

If anyone had told Astarion Ancunin a decade ago that he would one day hold Gale Dekarios on a pedestal nearly as high as the one on which he held his darling Tav, the immortal elf might have actually died from laughter. The strange irony and wicked life lessons of fate were not lost on the retired rogue. Unbelievably and annoyingly, Astarion eventually found himself indebted to the wizard in a way he could never repay. 

The wish spell worked.

It had taken years for Gale to feel absolutely ready to cast the spell. Astarion waited — exasperated, impatient, and impetuous — for what felt like the longest ten years of his ageless lifetime to be given the gift of mortality. 

More than once, in the pale elf’s tearful fits of frustration, he accused the wizard of intentionally stringing him along or simply not having the skills to perform such a spell and not wanting to admit it. More than once, you had to calmly remind your husband of the great lengths Gale had gone to find information regarding the act and the even greater risk to both the vampire and the wizard if the spell was not cast perfectly and mindfully. 

It had been a long decade, waiting for that impossible possibility, but the wait had been more than worth it.

Just over ten years after you met that silver-haired rake on the beach, Astarion was miraculously returned to his living, breathing, heart beating, mortal elven form. Surprisingly, not much changed about his appearance. Most notably, his eyes turned a gold-flecked green, and his complexion took on a constant soft pink undertone, permanently tinged by the circulation of his own blood by his own heart. That beautiful undertone caused a delightful blush to creep across his cheeks and ears whenever you teased or aroused him, and you took an even more significant liking to both these behaviors, just to watch that gorgeous rosiness creep across his skin. 

And while you dearly loved that blush, your favorite part of the change had certainly been the steady beating of his heart. You would rest your head on your lover’s chest for hours to savor the sound if he let you, wrapped tightly in the new found warmth of his long limbs.

While you became obsessed with Astarion’s steadily thrumming heart, he’d become obsessed with his reflection. As soon as he’d been able to see himself, your husband had taken to having you sit on his lap while you primped and preened. He would stare into the looking glass with you for long lengths of time, his limbs coiled around your waist and chin often resting on your shoulder as he studied the mirror with a besotted, hazy smile on his face. 

After a few weeks of this, you finally asked your silver-haired husband why he seemed positively obsessed with this new behavior. Astarion’s response had floored you.

“Darling, in my over 200 years, I never imagined I would have a love of my own, nor did I ever imagine what we would look like together. I couldn’t have envisioned such a thing even if I thought it a possibility or wanted to. I simply couldn’t envision myself at all. But now seeing it? I want to commit everything to memory exactly as it is… because it’s the most precious vision in the world to me.”

And really how else could you respond to that apart from kissing your sappy, bleeding heart of a husband and allowing him to continue the practice?

Of course, the two of you behaving as innocent love birds hadn’t been the only thing Astarion wanted to see in the mirror. On more than one occasion, he’d easily charmed you into the throes of passion in perfect view of a reflective surface. Your husband’s darker, more carnal half had become obsessed with watching you two in the act and it certainly thrilled you to know he was trying to commit those sensual sights to memory. You were quite happy to oblige. 

As such, you’d soon found yourself carrying the byproduct of one of your many erotic couplings.

“That was a big one.” Astarion murmurs, and you see a smile creeping across the reflection of his face in the mirror as he glances down and runs his long fingers across the swell of your abdomen. His arms are looped around you as you sit front of the vanity mirror, placing the final touches on your appearance. 

You agree with a gentle hum, moving a hand to your pregnant belly and rubbing circles on the stretch of skin, hoping to calm the young life stirring within. You coo softly to the rolling babe as you finish your primping, “Surely you aren’t thinking about breaking out of there yet, my little love. You have a few more months to go.”

Astarion’s now-warm hands cover yours as the little one seems to do somersaults in response to your voice, causing you to wince slightly as they jolt against your ribs. He presses a tender kiss into your shoulder and chuckles, “This one is strong like their mother and impatient like their father… we may be in for a spot of trouble in a few years, my love.”

You laugh in response as you stand with a pitiable amount of effort and quite a bit of assistance from the supportive arm of your husband. “I believe you’re right… but surely we’ve taken on scarier and more difficult things than a stubborn babe.”

Astarion hums in agreement before pressing a kiss to your swollen stomach, which is hovering just in front of him now, “Surely, darling. Now let us all go say hi to Uncle and Auntie Ravengard. I’m positively famished.”

-----

You are almost out of breath as you walk the final steps toward the entry of the Duke’s home. Astarion had practically begged you to take the carriage all the way through Wyll’s estate, but you waved him off, adamant that a bit light exercise would be good for the baby. The walkway was fully paved, how hard could it be?

As it turned out, you’d severely overestimated your abilities. Though it was just under a quarter mile to the front doors of the manor when you’d decided to exit the carriage, you were no longer the young, lithe woman that traversed the wilds with a petulant vampire a decade ago. The weight of your belly slowed you down more than you would admit. Astarion implored you, more than once and with growing concern and exasperation, to return to carriage. You refused each time, forcing the driver to follow behind at a snail’s pace.

“Gods, I hope this child does not take on your stubborn streak. I will be constantly overrun in my own home.” Astarion huffs, dabbing at the few beads of sweat on your brow with a silken handkerchief as he helps you climb the small flight of stairs at the entryway of Wyll’s home. He rolls his eyes as you laugh, breathlessly, and lean into him for support as he presses a kiss at the meeting point between your cheek and ear. “But, my sweet, as much as I would have preferred we stayed in the coach, you know I adore the way you look with your cheeks all flushed after a bit of… exertion.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes at your husband as he traces his hand over your flushed cheek, his expression practically brimming with desire. The flush on the tips of his ears is a telltale sign of his salacious thoughts. If he had it his way, he’d be dragging you into the carriage right there for a quickie. But, he knew you two were nearly running late for dinner with the Duke and forced himself to push all desires aside. For now.

Wyll and his beautiful wife, Euphemia, greet you with a flurry of excitement and hugs. Their two twin toddlers run around in the entryway, a nursemaid trailing behind them.

Wyll wears a kind, soft smile as he addresses the both of you, “Dinner should be just about ready… shall we make our way there? I hope you two don’t mind. We are having work done in the dining room — my beautiful flower insisted upon remodeling — so dinner will have to be served in the Great Hall.”

As the four of you head towards the larger of the two dining areas in the Duke’s estate, Astarion wraps his arm around your waist and runs his hand along the side of your nearly bursting belly once again. There is a subtle pause at the doors of the Great Hall, and your husband’s eyebrows crinkle in a silent question before you gently press a kiss into his cheek and whisper, “Happy Rebirth Day, my love.”

Today marked one year since Gale successfully cast the Wish Spell. 

The oak doors burst open to reveal the faces of everyone you hold dear, all of them shouting, “Surprise!” in unison. Wyll and Euphemia are laughing with delight as the four of you enter the room. Astarion is obviously shocked and overwhelmed as he takes the scene in, but a toothy smile is plastered across his face nonetheless. The elf could not believe that the significance of the date had slipped his mind, nor could he believe that you all went through such great lengths to plan a spectacle on his behalf. 

Everyone showered your husband with a plethora of well-wishes and congratulations. The food was heavenly, and the silver-haired elf dined to his heart’s content. Just as Astarion loved to watch you both in the mirror, you adored seeing him eat and savor real food. You’d pursued cooking as a new hobby in the past few months, just to watch the delight on his face as he tasted any number of delectable things you placed in front of him.

“Have you thought of any names for the baby?” Karlach asks through a mouthful of food as she continues to tear into the lamb shank in front of her.

You smile knowingly. This topic has piqued everyone’s interest and they all turn their gazes in your direction, “Yes, actually… Astarion picked it out. It works well for a boy or a girl, and I think it’s an excellent choice.”

The elf smiles shyly, that subtle flush of his cheeks and ears crawling across his face as you turn your gaze to him and urge him on, “Go on, my love, and tell them the gorgeous name you picked.”

“I… I decided we should name the baby Gale.” Astarion reveals, his hand immediately moving to graze against your swollen stomach as he meets the flabbergasted expression of the wizard sitting across the table with a round-eyed, nervous gaze, “If… that’s okay by you.”

Gale coughs in surprise, nearly choking on the wine he’d just sipped from a goblet. For a moment, you watch as he blinks away tears. You are beginning to truly believe he might leap across the table and tackle your husband in a hug when he rapidly nods instead.

The wizard’s voice cracks with emotion as he speaks, “Y-yes. Thank you, Astarion. That is such an honor.”

Ten years of friendship between two men that once seemed entirely at odds with one another, honored by a namesake given to a precious babe. Fate was a truly remarkable thing.

“It’s an honor you are quite deserving of, Gale.” You respond, reaching your hand across the table to give the wizard’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “May our child have just as much heart, wit, and skill as their namesake. We will be truly blessed.”

A cake with candles is brought about at the end of the meal and placed in front of Astarion as everyone sings an off-key birthday tune. While your husband always seemed to thrive on being held at the center of attention, you noticed with a bit of amusement that his ears and cheeks were flushed pink as everyone focused their eyes upon him. 

While the others continue to sing, you lean closer to your husband and whisper, “I know we will never surpass the wish you made last time, my Star. But go on and make one anyway.”

Astarion’s gaze roams around the room, taking in all the friends he collected this past decade. Then he turns to you and grins, pausing to etch every bit of this moment into his memory before closing his eyes and blowing the candles out to a cacophony of inebriated cheers and whoops.

The elf wished for the only thing he could: a healthy child and a long life with his little love. Fate had already gifted him with more than he could have imagined for himself back in those dark, dank dungeons he once called home. Astarion found himself in want of nothing but the health and happiness of the woman beside him and the safety of their offspring. 

Though he knew it was another selfish ask, and he’d been blessed far more than he had ever expected, Astarion prayed to the gods that he once never thought would answer to grant him this last wish. And just in case they did not hear him the first time, he would be sure to make the same wish every year, until his very last. 

[spacebarbarianweird]

I really need your earring canons with Astarion. Please! I'm dying for it.

Ok he we go!

Feature: Tav (non-elf)

TW: a litttle bit of suggestive content

Masterlist

Headcanons

Tav has always been fascinated with Astarion's ears. They are so pointy and have a delightful pinkish hue!

She can't resist the temptation to touch them, and one day, she finally gives in to her curiosity.

The first time her fingers brush against his ears, Astarion flinches, making it clear how uncomfortable he is, even though they are in a relationship.

Tav immediately apologizes and scolds herself for crossing his boundaries.

Later in the evening, Astarion puts his head in her lap and timidly asks her to touch his ears.

Tav can't help but giggle, finding his ears irresistibly pointy. "I like your touches," he murmurs.

She smiles and replies, "And I like your ears."

After that, he is much more comfortable with Tav touching him.

Tav often wonders why he never wears any jewelry on his ears. The elves she has seen usually adorned their ears with various accessories, though not piercings or earrings, which would be painful, but ear cuffs in the forms of flowers and stars.

She decides to buy an ear cuff from a jewelry shop.

The shopkeeper, a female elf skilled in crafting beautiful earrings, notices Tav's hesitation and asks directly who the gift is for.

"You know nothing about elven ears, don't you? Your boyfriend should have told you."

The shopkeeper explains that elven ears are the most vulnerable and sensitive parts of their bodies. Even kisses aren't as intimate as touching a lover's ears.

She continues, "Choosing a pair of earrings for an elf is akin to giving a human lingerie as a gift." 

Tav blushes like a teenager.

The shopkeeper keeps describing elven ears as an erogenous zone and how lovers' tender touches on each other's ears were an incredibly blissful experience.

Showing mercy to Tav, the artisan selects a beautiful silver cuff designed for the left ear.

Tav returns to Astarion and presents him with the gift. He asks her to attach the adornment to his ear.

From that moment on, Tav constantly tries to touch his ears as if marking Astarion as hers and only hers. She also continues getting him ear cuffs.

He never puts them on by himself, always waiting for Tav to choose one and put it on for him.

Cuddling, she sometimes playfully nibbles on his pointy ears, savoring the delightful sounds Astarion makes.

Imagine Astarion and Tav standing in a crowded city they are visiting. They discuss their plans while standing as close as possible in a public place, and Tav begins teasingly touching his ears.

Passersby pay little attention, as they know nothing of elven ideas of intimacy. 

But it's like making out behind a thin curtain.

Suddenly, Tav feels a light tap on her back. An elderly elf stands there with his staff, visibly annoyed and angry.

He scolds, "Shameless youth! In my time, no one would have allowed such behavior in public!"

The elderly elf continues to express his disapproval in an old elven dialect to Astarion and then disappears into the crowd.

 "What did he tell you?"

Astarion, lifting Tav into the air, replies, "He said I should have taught you some manners, and we both should find a room. I agree with the second point."

[sien-ten]

Kabru X Laios post-finale headcanons, because Tumblr decided to shower me with content about them

Kabru said "you guys can't build any political connections with elves without me " and stayed as a royal advisor, which surprised Laios big time (he was sure that after fulfilling his promise Kabru would lead his party somewhere else)

Laios turned out to be well-mannered when necessary, so following court etiquette wasn't too hard for him – Kabru felt deep annoyance every time his king greeted or complimented anyone in such a royal manner, until he learned that Laios' trademark airhead behaviour now showed up only when he's with someone he trusts (family, friends... and him)

Kabru warmed up to Laios significantly in a first year of them rebuilding kingdom, they both were stressed to no end, but the more situations they've got to solve together, the more Kabru trusted Laios (even if he doesn't like to admit it)

Laios had to send Falin off to their parents to rest and heal a bit, since at first kingdom was very much unstable (Marcille accompanied her); after his party departured, he felt pretty much very lonely, so he had a lot of time on his hands to contemplate, why he's so gravitated towards Kabru all the time; he vented to Senshi about some of his thoughts and got advised to try courting his advisor – it was later registered as one of the first crisises that kingdom faced since Winged Lion's departure (Kabru was so oblivious that Laios nearly ended his reign)

Kabru and Laios started seeing each other officially only after Falin and Marcille returned – because of Senshi's panicked letters they've brought Chilchuck, who properly scolded the King and set the pair for a nice dinner (yes, Laios hasn't tried that one before)

Laios never experienced romantic relationship before, so a lot of things hit him like a truck – to Kabru's grief, his lover still was too honest of a man, so if Laios though that Kabru looks extra handsome today, everyone in courtroom would know that (exactly because of that Marcille had to take over courtroom proceedings, they couldn't have Laios distracted and guests giggling)

Kabru and Marcille became good friends really suddenly, but they had too much in common not to: elven mothers, grievances about mortality, Touden partners; they made a tradition of having a private chat throughout the day, even if they had meals with everyone all the time (king's order), having their own space to unwind felt good (Falin told Laios about these meetings/tea parties and forbid him to disturb them)

They enjoy to spar on swords and read to each other; sometimes they would stroll through the forest together and look for ruins

On one of Laios's birthday Kabru learned how to cook monster barbecue imitation as a gift (it was a struggle), and Laios was overjoyed (it didn't taste like monster at all, but the thought is more important)

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Starlit Skirts

Astarion x fem!ElfTav|| ao3 || Masterlist

Rating: T Word Count: +2.5k A little smile stole onto Tav’s lips. “I would’ve married you in the half-hour between having my back blown out and breakfast this morning, if you’d let me. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Better yet—the day before that. A lifetime ago…” By the way his lips tenderly began to mirror her own, she could tell that it was decided. Astarion would be her husband by morning.

a/n: Valentine's Gift Exchange for @marcynomercy ; happy early Valentine's Day! ♡

Tav was growing bored, positively so. 

The early Autumn sun had pleasantly warmed her back when Astarion had first helped her onto the wooden step stool. Now, the chamber was bathed in the scattering light of late afternoons, the sun’s weakening sunrays crawling past the useless cheval glass in front of Tav.

Suppressing a yawn, her gaze wandered over the thick cotton sheet that was draped over the mirror, and—for the lack of anything better to do—she began to count the loose threats standing out from the tightly woven fabric one more time.

“I’m bored,” she declared when her eyes started to strain but a moment later.

Silence.

Tav rolled her eyes. Sometimes, it was rather irritating that Astarion only shut up when he was engrossed in his needlework—or when his mouth was otherwise occupied.

“You could at least entertain me a little,” she tried again, her voice light as she swallowed yet another yawn. “Since you’re keeping me on my toes like this all day...” 

It was no use. As if he hadn’t heard her, Astarion continued to kneel at her feet, rearranging her skirts every once in a while to have them fall in a specific way Tav wasn’t privy to.

Astarion had been working on her wedding dress for months now, and although she’d donned the dress for a number of fittings, she’d yet to see the actual gown. 

Astarion was adamant about keeping the look of the finished dress —his wedding gift to her— a secret, covering every reflective surface in the room, having her blindfolded if the need arose; working well into the night when their Elven eyes could only see in scales of grey.   

So, all Tav knew about her wedding dress was that it was quite heavy, which was at odds with the cool gossamer fabric that felt so wonderfully soft against her skin, mimicking her lover’s sweet embrace… 

Tav wasn’t able to suppress a third yawn. Not only was she bored, no, she was exhausted. 

It was the second day in a row that Astarion had her stand in front of him for hours on end, and her body was becoming increasingly stiff. She wasn’t used to feeling this drained by doing absolutely nothing, but she supposed it couldn’t be helped.

“Don’t move,” Astarion muttered all of a sudden, pearl head pins secured between his teeth as he grabbed Tav’s wrist to keep her left arm from moving.

He’d pinned the dress’ knee-length sleeves to its skirt some time ago, insisting that he needed to see where they would overlay with…well, he wouldn’t tell her with what exactly. 

Tav, frowning at his sharp command, hadn’t even noticed that she’d tried to roll back her shoulders, instinctively wanting to ease the dull ache in her joints. 

“And no peeking.” 

How had Astarion even known that she was glancing down at his silver locks when he was still re-pinning and inspecting the hem of her sleeve?

“Sorry,” Tav said, a tad too meekly to be considered honest as she ironed out her slouching shoulders.

Astarion acknowledged her with a huff, but that was more than enough for Tav. Wherever the Vampire’s mind had been wandering for the past hours, he was now back in the same room with her. 

She would not let him go again.

“How much longer must I suffer, heart of my heart? My feet are getting so, so tired,” Tav pouted, accentuating her misery with a deep sigh. “I don’t think I can stand like this for another moment.”

It only took a heartbeat for Astarion’s busy hands to pause in their movement.

Tav allowed herself a triumphant, albeit small grin. If there was one thing Astarion couldn’t endure these days, it was her discomfort.

“Another moment is all I need, love. Promised.” 

“I would so love to believe that, but you said the same thing at least three moments ago, you big old liar.”

Astarion scoffed, although Tav could hear a small grin of his own in his voice.

“Darling, it’s not my fault that I have to alter this dress every other damn week.”

Now, Tav let out a peeved laugh. The nerve of this man! 

“It is, though!”

“Well, kind of,” Astarion admitted sheepishly. “Maybe?” 

“Surely! Half of it is, at the very least.”

Astarion’s hands began picking at her skirts again. “Haven’t we already established that that was an accident?” 

“You really are shameless, Astarion, truly,” Tav shook her head, the grin on her face widening. 

How she wished she could see his face now! She could almost picture the way his eyebrows were knitted together, trying to hide his embarrassment behind a mask of concentration. 

The dull ache in her spine was all she needed to decide that she’d earned herself that very sight of him. A look wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Slowly, Tav lowered her eyes, glancing down at Astarion through her eyelashes. 

The bodice of her dress was ivory, she couldn’t help but notice entirely against her will; or a gentle cream. Maybe a very pale grey? It was already hard to tell in the growing half-light… 

Tav bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to peek at the dress, really; she just couldn’t help it. And it wasn’t her fault that she could see past the crown of Astarion’s curly head. Or that she noticed the golden thread he pulled through her skirts, sewing on…a pearl? A crystal? It was something shiny for sure, but what? 

Tav craned her neck, trying to get a better look at—

“Eyes up, damn you!” Astarion cried as he tilted his head back, catching her in the very act of gawking at as much of her dress as she could catch. “I swear I’ll have you blindfolded again.” 

Tav’s eyes darted back up, pointing obediently towards the useless mirror as if they’d never left it to begin with.

“Oh, don’t you threaten me with a good time, darling,” Tav sighed dramatically, trying to make light of the way her heart raced. 

“Let’s see if you’re this cheeky later tonight, shall we, pet?” 

“That could be arranged—if you’re on your knees like this again…”

“Tempting. Very tempting indeed,” Astarion purred, his hand vanishing under her skirts without warning. 

His nimble fingers trailed up from her ankle towards her knee, splaying out across the back of her thigh as he gently tugged her leg against his chest. 

Tav gasped. 

She didn’t dare another peek at him but was sure he was still looking up at her, face half buried in her skirts. The image inside her head expelled any lingering sense of her earlier fatigue. 

“But let’s finish this first, alright? It really won’t be long now—you think you can endure your plight for a bit longer, you poor thing?”

Tav swallowed. This time, it was her turn to hide her embarrassment as she tried to look absorbed in the little dust particles floating through the day’s fading light. 

“I suppose I can. But only because it’s you.” 

“Good girl,” Astarion nodded approvingly against her shin before he withdrew, his hands taking up their work outside her skirts anew. 

As it turned out, Astarion did keep his word this time. 

It didn’t take very much longer until Tav could feel one final tug at her sleeve. A moment later, Astarion shook out her skirts one final time before he rose to his full height in front of her. 

He unfastened the pincushion from around his wrist as he considered Tav from head to toe, circling her to examine his work.

“That should do,” he announced, coming to a halt behind her. “Close your eyes, love.”

Just like he always did, Astarion made to unfasten the lacing of Tav’s bodice. 

Unlike the other times, though, she turned around before his fingers could hook under the lacing on her back; her arms came up to protectively wrap around her middle. 

Astarion raised an eyebrow at her.

“What is it?” 

“I want to see it.”

A deep frown settled between Astarion’s eyes as he slowly stepped behind her once again.

As if it were a dance, Tav turned to face him once more. 

Astarion ran his hand through his hair, his crimson eyes searching hers as he tried to make sense of her silly game.

“You know why it’s called a wedding dress, my sweet? Because it’s worn on your wedding day— and that’s the day you’re going to see it.” 

“Well, I’m wearing it right now,” Tav established with a shrug, earning herself a puzzled look from her lover.

Fiancé. 

“What?” asked Tav. “We could be wed in a moment. Or three, considering you haven’t done your hair yet. The courthouse is right around the corner.” 

Astarion, clearly surprised by her sudden proposal, opened his mouth, exposing his fangs for but a second before he pressed his lips into a thin line. 

“All these months of wedding planning just to get it over with in one short moment?” He asked calmly. There was no bite in his voice, just honest curiosity. 

A little smile stole onto Tav’s lips.

“I would’ve married you in the half-hour between having my back blown out and breakfast this morning, if you’d let me. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Better yet—the day before that. A lifetime ago…” 

By the way his lips tenderly began to mirror her own, she could tell that it was decided. 

Astarion would be her husband by morning. 

But the pale elf was nothing if not a tease.

Taking a step towards Tav, his hand came up to her low neckline, fiddling with a detail Tav didn’t dare peek at—not under his intense crimson gaze.  

“Why so impatient all of a sudden, dearest?” 

Even while standing on the little step stool Tav had to raise her eyes to admire his beautiful face—the same face she wanted to look upon until the end of her days. 

“I’m exhausted, Astarion. And maybe I’m even scared that time’s running out,” Tav murmured, putting into words what had troubled her for the past weeks as her hand reached for his. In an instant, his fingers intertwined with hers. “And I really don’t want to labour through another dress fitting, now that it’s getting all serious…” 

Astarion pretended to look wounded as his thumb brushed over the back of her hand.

“Darling, and here I was thinking that we were already quite serious before our little accident.” 

It was true—Tav had already put a ring on the Vampire’s finger a good decade ago, allowing them to not only spend their nights but days together. 

There’d never been any need to rush to get married until now.

The Sunwalker’s Gift caught the fleeting daylight as Astarion raised his other hand to cup her cheek. 

He considered her for a moment as she leaned into his touch.

“Are you sure?”

Tav only nodded once.

“Always been,” she whispered without any hesitation before she pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand. “And my feet are literally killing me. My spine, too. And, gods, my shoulders—”

Tav’s moaning was interrupted by a quick peck on her lips. The tip of Astarion’s nose brushed against hers as he pulled back just enough to look at the blush on her face. 

“We can’t have that, can we?” 

“Absolutely not.”

Astarion nodded understandingly, his hand moving from her cheek down her shoulders, along the long sleeves of her dress. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he lifted her off the little stool, hugging Tav against him for a moment longer than necessary. 

“Time for your wedding gift, then,” he whispered in her ear before he set her gently down on her feet in front of the mirror. 

“Will you close your eyes one last time, love?”

Tav let out a delighted little laugh as she squeezed her eyes shut—this time she really wouldn’t sneak a look. 

The heavy cotton sheet that had covered the tall mirror for months fell to the floor with a thud. 

“You may look now,” Astarion said, his hand still lingering —trembling?— on her hip.

Tav’s wedding gown was unlike anything she’d ever seen.

Not knowing where to look first, she gaped at the tiny crystals sewn along her neckline as they caught the light of the golden hour fading into shades of blue. 

Brilliant embroidery shot down her batwing sleeves like silver linings, naturally guiding her gaze down to her skirts.

“Oh,” Tav breathed, watching the lonely form in the mirror brushing her fingertips over the starlit skirts cascading down her swollen belly like water.

Golden threads brought pearls and crystals together in the most breathtaking constellations, making Tav think of the few fleeting moments between night and daybreak when the sky is at its softest periwinkle, kissed by the gentle fingers of the morning sun. 

“Well,” Astarion cleared his throat. “I wanted it to be unforgettable, but since you’d other plans…”

Dumbstruck, Tav could only tear her eyes from her reflection because she needed to see the man who had created all of this. What would she give right then to watch him stand next to her in the mirror?

“Astarion—” was all she could get out before the first tears began streaming down her face. “It is—it really is unforgettable!” 

Astarions pulled her back against his chest, his chin resting atop her head as he urged Tav to look back in the mirror.

“Oh, don’t mention it,” he purred against her dark hair. “It’s just some fabric wrapped around my entire world.” 

Tav hiccuped up a laugh, leaning back into Astarion. Maybe it was the tears, or the standing up all day, the babe growing inside her or just the dizzying feeling of profound happiness, but she didn’t quite trust her balance.

“Would you look at my swooning little bride,” Astarion grinned as he turned her to take her in, his hand unwilling to stray from her waist.

“Do you like it?”

Tav nodded vehemently, accentuating the truth of it with more tears.

“But I don’t have your gift ready yet, I’m afraid,” she pouted as Astarion tugged some loose strands of hair behind her pointy ears.

“No hurry, my heart,” he said, wishing with all his undead heart that he could see himself standing beside his bride in the mirror, caressing her ever-growing belly that had been so tedious to work with. Maybe one day he would. “Unlike you, I’m patience incarnate; I can wait a moment longer. Or however many more moments that little accident of ours may need.” Tav dared to stand up on her toes and pressed a lingering kiss against Astarion’s lips. “Let’s go show off this masterpiece of a dress in the meantime?” Astarion grinned as he beheld Tav lifting her skirts so that she could get a better look at a section of embroidery he’d laboured over for weeks. He wouldn’t tell her that her happy smile was the very thing that made her dress shine—that knowledge was his selfish little present to himself. “Why, darling, that’s a gift I'll gladly accept for now.”

[doodle-pops]

House of Feanor | Having A Human S/O

Request: Can i request a feanorian group headcannon about having a human lover? — @misfortunateleprechaun

A/N: I couldn’t resist including a short reader in the mix because I know most of us are tiny beside these elves :)

Fëanor

Curious to learn all there is about you. Whether you’re naturally short, how you age, your life span, your features, culture, linguistics, everything, you name it. And when he does, it pushes for him to become even more intrigued with YOU.

Wants to follow you around as much as possible. Just picture a short you and a giant elf nearly 8ft trailing behind you asking millions of questions or silently observing you in your natural world.

Understands that humans are delicate and much more breakable than elves, so he treats you with the same care as he does for his jewels. You are fragile and deserve the utmost protection and care.

With that being said, you are not spared from being blessed with the great riches he is endowed with. Showers upon showers of gifts bestowed to make your mortal lifespan enjoyable and full of luxuries.

An enjoyment of his would be your vast size difference, as would all the elves when you lie, sit or walk beside him. Even when he needs to make jewellery, he marvels at the sizes and concludes that you are no larger than an elfling.

He will keep to himself knowing how you react when being compared to an elf child…or he might mention it because he enjoys your responses and phrases unheard of to elven ears.

Feanor takes great pride in having you as his S/O and accepts no criticism from anyone. He adores you with every fibre of his being and will worship the ground you walk on.

Maedhros

“Why are you so tiny, unlike other mortals I have come across?” That would be words spoken to himself upon meeting you because he’s already a freaking giant. It’s worse when you must stand on objects to meet this over-eight-foot-tall figure.

Holds out his hand and watches as you wrap your entire hand around two of his fingers. He has to bite his lip to hold back the laughter, because you attempt to guide him, and it looks like a child leading him off to Eru knows where.

Prefers when you sleep on his chest while (awake) he reads or relaxes on the balcony. Never allows you to close when you’re sharing the same bed and he’s sleeping. Do you want to go flying through a window with one of his kicks? You’re fragile babes, sleep on the floor.

Deep down, he believes that you deserve a lover who doesn’t have to place a restrain on everything they’re doing to prevent hurting you…physically. Play fights are a thing that happens rarely because you once knocked your own hand on the bedpost, and he blamed himself for forgetting your fragility.

With that being said, he gets worried about you when you accidentally injure yourself because you’re a mortal…soft, squishy and delicate. Please, don’t make him wrap you in the duvets like a burrito for your safety.

Since your lifespan is shorter than his, Maedhros’ main goal is to in ensure as much peace can be granted in your life. Takes you to the most scenic places around Beleriand or just nearby Himring and keeps you far away from his brothers, minus Maglor. Gives you a Shetland pony to ride for the kicks of it and watches as you fold.

He doesn’t seem to understand how you joke so easily about ageing and grimaces every time you crack a joke about your soon-to-be wrinkled appearance or increased fragility. You’re set to give him the heart attack instead of you.

Loves to compare your size to an elfling and jokes about having to purchase ready-made clothes in the children’s section for you.

Maglor

Humoured by your size and delicacy, and equally motherly as Maedhros. Henning over every little accident with a read-to-scold expression on his face and incoherent words spilling out his mouth about needing to cover you from head to toe.

Maglor adores your compliments when he sings for you or writes sonnets or poems. He understands that his species differ greatly from humans, hence his voice would sound ethereal to your ears, sparking grand praises. It tickles his ego and spurs him into never-ending songs because he lives for your praises.

Adores carrying you around because you’re as light as a feather and he could lift you with his pinkie finger. Sit on his shoulders, piggyback rides, cling to his legs or chest as he walks around his fort and ignores all the strange looks his servants are giving him.

He’s someone who respects humans and mortal life, so at no point would he ever allow you to feel insignificant compared to his elven nature. Hates to hear you ill-speak your mortality or even condemn the relationship to failure because of your differences.

Still hesitant when it comes to playfighting and unlike a certain brother, he wouldn’t scold himself for your injury. However, he would still engage and quickly dissolve everything to cuddles or a nap.

Sleep atop his chest and he’ll fawn because you look so tiny and feel weightless. One time you both fell asleep, however, Maglor forgot you were sleeping on his chest (because you’re so light), so when he rolled, you fell right off the bed.

Surprisingly cool with your human ageing jokes, especially the wrinkly potato ones. Sometimes he’ll cruise in with an affectionate joke to make you swoon about being his favourite potato.

Celegorm

It takes a long time to get it into his head that you’re delicate because, in his mind, he saw you performing hundreds of daredevil stunts, why stop the fun for safety purposes. Wherever Tyelko is, you are curled up under his arm like a sleeping bag being carried around on his adventure.

If he’s riding a horse large enough to carry an elf, then so are you—doesn’t matter if you’re four or five feet. If you fit, you sit. However, you prefer to ride Huan because he understands your comfort and safety more than Tyelko does.

Playfighting to the roughness degree and be prepared to end up in the healer’s room sporting bruises or a sprained joint, he’ll even lie down on you. He has an affinity for challenging you to your limits, solely because it’s thrilling to him. “Try lifting me off the bed and walking to the door.” (you collapsed under his beefy body)

As big and scary as he appears, start coughing or having a fever and watch as he crumples like a left. Clingy and never leaves your side the entire duration you’re resting or in the healer’s room.

Acts as though you’re going to die in the blink of an eye from a single sneeze and the next thing you know, he’s praying that you survive your common cold when the healers have informed him that you’re alright.

In addition, he’s the perfect teddy bear for a cold night with all those muscles he has going on. The issue is his ability to cuddle to the highest degree. You cannot escape his cuddle grip, even if you need to pee.

Tyelko has confidence that’s out of this world, so no one can attempt to shun or berate your relationship, not even mock him for choosing a human to be his S/O over an elf. Celegorm makes it clear that you’re his choice and he’s proud to have you.

Caranthir

Someone who admires you day by day and how easily you overcome obstacles without lamenting the way his race does. For a human, you are quite fiery and able to keep up with his pace of living, though he prefers that you relax while he lavishes you.

Vocal about his appreciation towards you in private as you lay in his chambers on the sofa or bed, cuddling. Like his siblings, he prefers that you lay atop him, refusing to even displace an ounce of weight for fear of crushing you.

Spoils you, spoils you, spoils you more than you could even imagine because he wants your life to be filled with comfort and luxuries before your end. Complaining about how much he spoils you is like kicking a puppy.

The only thing you cannot do is tear this elf away from his duties when he’s locked away in his studies deciding who to conduct his next trade with. He’s married to his work and then you.

This brings me to you easily clinging to his body because you wish for him to stay in bed longer. All he does is roll his eyes at your antics and continue to walk around the room while you disguise yourself as a backpack.

Sneeze and there’s a deafening silence that follows before a grumpy Caranthir paces out of the room to call for the healers. You are not permitted to go anywhere, basically bedroom arrest. You want water, food, more blankets; he’s there. Want to go for a walk, sure; he’ll walk you around the room.

As much as he admires your resilience as a human being to the harsh reality of life, many of your natural occurrences terrify him due to rumours of terrible endings for others. So, expect the protectiveness to go up a few notches.

Curufin

Everyone was surprised that he had a human lover when he strolled into a ball with you decked out in jewellery from head to toe. Poor you were trying to breathe under the weight of the gemstones breaking your neck.

Curufin isn’t any different in my dating him headcanons with the addition of his protectiveness increasing. He loves to use it as an excuse to tag along with you anywhere when he really wants to spend time together (what a tsundere).

Finds himself confused at all your human terminologies because how can “Break a leg” or “Knock ‘em dead” mean best of luck. “You humans are strange with your words, why can’t you just say what you mean.” – Curufin

Finds your excitement and expressive manner endearing given elves’ lack of facial expressions and enjoys bestowing all sorts of gifts upon you just to witness your reactions. He finds them better than the simple use of words when accepting his creations.

Less inclined to school you like his father, but still peppers you with indirect questions to learn more about humans and their odd differences from elves. If you’re female, then be prepared to blow his mind with talks of your menstruation. He considers you a brave warrior for going through that every month.

Curufin doesn’t like talks of how your lifespan is short and you’re bound to die soon, and you tend to use this to your advantage when you want your way.  “But what if tomorrow doesn’t come, and I don’t get to eat chocolate cake? You should let me eat it now, so you don’t regret not letting me.”

 (Tries) Keeps you away from Tyelko because he’s a terrible influencer and causes the majority of your injuries which sends Curufin into cardiac arrest. If Curufin has never shown much emotion in his life, it was the moment he learnt that you were in the healing rooms.

Amrod

Excited because he has someone to love him, but heartbroken about your shortened lifespan, which means he’s going to cram all his years of adventure into your lifespan so it can be shared with you.

Every morning, he walks you up with a brilliant smile as warm as the sun before dragging you out of bed to go hiking or host a breakfast picnic while the sun rises (sorry if you hate waking up early).

You are not spared from his pranks or the confusion between him and his twin when Amras decides to trick you. Aware that you are human and more breakable than elves, but he’s still going to engage in roughhousing or lying half his body atop yours so you cannot go anywhere.

As I had mentioned before, he’s touch–starved being the youngest bunch in the family with less attention being directed. So when you entered the picture, as a human, it was natural for you to be overly affectionate which stunned him. Never before had Amrod believed that he was capable of receiving so much love.

He doesn’t care about the fact that elves aren’t physically affectionate, he accepts every hug, kiss and touch you gift him. He considers them your greatest gift, second to finding you.

Already protective of his younger brother, so it’s natural when you enter the picture. Prefers being your bodyguard so he can spend every second with you, never allowing for there to be a moment when you aren’t together.

I have mentioned that he’s into woodcarving, so you can expect figurines of you and him (more you) to appear before your door in beautifully wrapped boxes. You have a collection by now and can consider it a hobby thanks to Amrod.

Amras

Prefers to spend all his time with you in tranquillity and away from his nosy and noisy family, including his twin who doesn’t understand the concept of personal space and attempts to chaperone each date.

The realisation of you being human doesn’t sink in for a long while because he’s pleased that he has someone whom he can love. Amras will be spending his dates surrounded by nature.

Waterfalls, hiking trails, rivers, ponds lakes or fields of flowers, you have seen it all in your human lifespan. Places you didn’t believe existed or could be viewed by the naked eye would be revealed to you.

Amras is more open to receiving affection from you and enjoys the lavish amounts you shower him in. He is stunned by the volume that humans are capable of delivering and how dependent they are on physical touch.

Like his brothers, Amras will shower you with tons of gifts, especially handcrafted ones. He is skilled in crocheting and competes with his brother for who can make the best look-alikes of their family. In between, you can expect to receive stuffed animals or a miniature of yourself.

Reaches out to his elder brother, Maedhros and Maglor for advice on how to date a human since they’re more aware of mortal mannerisms than him. It’s a cute sight to witness as Amras practices learning your mannerisms and culture so he can help you feel at home.

His major concern is ensuring that your time spent with him was the best years you’ve ever had in your entire life, and he was able to fulfil many of your wishes in the short space of time granted to you.

Celebrimbor

Tyelpё would like to know what he has done to inherit a significant other in the first place. Forget that you’re human, he wants to know how you can choose a person like him after the history of bloodshed his family has left.

Like any normal relationship, he’s doing his best to control his temper and be as patient as possible. He would hate to make you go running for the hills with a terrible slip-up.

Eyes of a hawk at your every move, wanting to learn as much as possible with the stark differences between you in particular and him. He’s already aware of how indifferent elves and humans are, it’s just to learn your netiquettes and mannerisms.

Like his father, you will be gifted tons of jewellery—it’s his love language—with your neck breaking under the weight of the gems. Tyelpё adores seeing you decked out and looking like a disco ball; you’re his mannequin for his pieces.

As one who spent years in the forge, he’s far from small and will crush you under his weight. Thus, he’s cautious when cuddling or any form of play fighting. The last thing he needs to hear is that he injured you from his bulky muscles.

Please hold his hands and let him fawn over the size difference. You’re only able to hold two of his fingers when tugging him about the place when you’re eager to show him something.

Did someone say standing on chairs to meet his height? Yes, that is exactly what you would have to do because he’s a giant eight-foot elf. Or even parading around in his long robes pretending to be him? Yes.

Protective to a degree, but not as overprotective as his uncles since it’s the second age and let’s assume that our buddy hasn’t shown up yet to ruin the peace. Tyelpё will gladly allow you to roam freely without worrying about your safety tremendously and would even request that you return with treats.

Masterlist

Taglist: @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @ladyenchanted @mcwentfandomtraveling @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @a-tong @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora

[bastart13]

What's the game you're making? What's the premise?

Love and Legends is a fantasy isekai dating sim, originally written for and produced for the Lovestruck app. The app shut down a few years ago, and though the game is archived in videos here (x) I wanted to give remaking it a shot.

The premise is that one day, the MC has just got out of work, only to be struck by lightning and teleported to a fantasy world of knights, elves, fairies... and evil queens. And turns out she looks just like the evil queen, the one killed three years prior. People in the world either want her in a dungeon or to restart war as their despotic overlord and she has to learn to navigate the world, chosing someone to stay by her side.

There are seven love interests:

Lord Reiner Wolfson - A second-born son of the former leader of his domain, forced to become leader after his family died fighting the Witch Queen. A kind, considerate leader with a love of bad jokes, prepared to but the weight of the world on his shoulders to protect what remains of his loved ones.

Altea Bellerose - A young, gifted wizard who's devoted most of her life to refining her art and fighting for justice. She's deeply curious, quick-witted, and determined to prove herself against those who might dismiss her.

Prince Iseul Idreis - An elven prince with a family history with Reiner's, who served him in war and now takes time to enjoy the peacetime. Laid-back and sharp-tongued, he seems to take nothing too seriously but cares deeply for his friends.

Saerys - The last known demon after the Witch Queen launched a brutal extermination of his people. Isolated and marked, he struggles to find his place in the world. As much as he loves and trusts his allies, he does not believe he has a place among them.

Sir August Falke - Reiner's most loyal knight and fiercely protective of their won peace. He does not allow any threat to pass, even if it leaves him a little uptight. Taking care of his beloved noble steed, Wyndsor Royale, shows off a softer side to him.

General Helena Klein - The Witch Queen's general, former lover, and apprentice, Helena's gift with magic breaks bounds. Though she has a long, dark history of pain, even when she thought it might be love, she hopes for a way to escape.

General Alain Richter - The Witch Queen's longest-standing general and oldest friend, he followed her down an evil path, sowing pain whenever she commanded it, he wants nothing more than to return to a time where he and his love find peace together.

The writing is overall very impressive, with a strong sense of character chemistry and dialogue. There's a lot of variety between the characters and routes, each following a unique story with variations on the world's lore. The MC is a surprisingly strong character in her own right, allowing interesting dynamics between her and the love interests rather than a default.

[recycledraccoon]

May I offer some cheese 🧀 for some Inkblade headcannons? 🥺

Alright. Alright ok.

I've tormented @omamorens with this MULTIPLE TIMES and now I'm inflicting it on a wider audience.

Oisin and Adaine's romance is violent. Anybody unfamiliar with dragonborn courting look in on this and thing it's the MOST toxic thing in the world. Adaine probably recognizes this on some level as SHES not even super familiar with dragonborn culture and courting.

But to Oisin? He is LITERALLY living a childhood fairytale.

And that fairy tale is the story of the Dragon, Princess, and Knight, as told to him as a hatchling, like it was told to his sibling and mother and grandparents and so many others of a dragons bloodline.

Think about it.

Why do Dragons kidnap Princesses? They already live on a mountain of gold and jewels, the few scraps of jewels they could get from a princess pales in comparison and it such a risk to bring that much direct attention from an entire kingdom on yourself, even as an incredibly powerful dragon. What are they going to do with her? Eat her? Let her waste away? A princesses lifespan, elven maidens not included, are a blink of an eye in the face of the lifespan of a Dragon.

There is truly no meaningful reason why a Dragon would kidnap a Princess. It's just not worth the cost and effort for no meaningful reward.

There is only one thing a Dragon can guarantee by kidnapping a princess. And that's summoning knights to come try to take her back.

Dragon courting comes in two major stages.

Combat.

Sharing of hoard.

Dragons are apex predators. They highly valued strength and power. It must be so novel, so intimate to them, to experience the singular intensity that comes with being hunted down. The Dragon becomes the center of the Knights world, their focus. Its all centered on killing them.

Others hunt dragons down all the time to get their hoards, it's what the dragon madness manifests to avenge against. But I don't think it would, because the kidnapping of the princess is an invitation and offer, it is not being stolen.

So they come, they battle, and the truly worthy kill the dragon and take the Princess home. But they always get the dragons hoard too. Sometimes they end up with armor fashioned from the scales of their fallen foe. They go on the rest of their lives known as a Dragonslayer.

To the races of man, this is a story of triumph over evil. Of worthy knights proving themselves and the romance of saving the trapped maiden and being a hero.

To dragons this is a beautifully tragic romance for the ages. The Knight comes and proves themselves as having all the strength and power of a dragon, they are worthy. They take the gold left behind, all the treasures, all the things the Dragon values most, haunted by Dragon Madness they may never even feel the effects of because this was not stolen from the dragon after their demise, this was a gift to a lover. The Knight wears their scales as protection forever after, they are known as Dragonslayer like taking a lovers name after marriage. Their fates and histories are tied together for as long as either of them will be remembered. You can not forget one without forgetting the other.

This is the intimate intertwining of fates forever. Dragons swoon over these tales, when parents of humanoid races tell a fairytale of a romance between the knight and princesses and their mutual foe, the dragons tell their children of the romance eternal of the Knight and their dragon, and the princess who was gracious enough to officiate for them.

And sometimes, Dragons meet their Knights and it ends not in the blood upon steel they crave, but in a tumble of bodies for an even more dangerous fight, breathless and euphoric. And that's how you get Dragonborns.

So Oisin sees Adaine hating him, feels their magic clash and the intensity of her hatred and determination to kick his ass, and he feels closer to his ancestors than ever before, falling into the same trap as all of them on falling in love with the one whose violence you crave. He see's his own blood dripping from Adaine Abernant's sword and the pounding in his heart is enough to shake the world with the intensity of his feelings.

Oh one day there will be softness too, it will not be like this forever, but this is always how it starts for them, and it will never quite leave.

Anyway one day the Rat Grinders and Bad Kids are gonna end up chatting and fairy tales will come up and Oisin will sigh wistfully about the most romantic fairy tales he was told as a hatchling and despite everything those were such formative memories that he holds tenderly in his heart.

"what fairy tales??"

"the romances between the dragons and the knights who kill them?? You know, with the princesses?"

And EVERYBODY is like WTF.

Except Mary Ann.

Mary Ann, also of some type of dragonic heritage, ALSO grew up with these stories and fully agrees with him. Its all very romantic. Gorgug's absolute HATRED of her during Junior year was very attractive.

ALSO the Princess in Adaine and Oisin's story is Boggy.

Boggy is the princess and whenever the frog decides to go hang out with Oisin and Adaine assumes Oisin stole her summon it's playing RIGHT into this fantasy. At some point Oisin thinks he needs to get Boggy a little tiara.

[wordbunch]

Winter Forest (Legolas x f!reader) > part 1

PART 2 HERE!!!

PART 3 HERE

a/n: here it is!! I’m really happy there are still people who’d want to read this, because I do want to write it, it’s been on my mind for a while. I hope you will enjoy it, and do let me know about it 😊 please try to be kind either way, this is just something from my imagination that I wanted to share with you! 😁🌿

warnings: none, it’s mostly just wholesome stuff!

SUMMARY: [Y/N], Lord Elrond’s daughter, and sort of a wild-card, and prince Legolas form a close friendship from their earliest childhoods. This story follows significant moments between them and how their relationship progresses over time. This part happens pre-Fellowship. Slow-ish burn, friends-to-lovers, mutual pining.

O N E

(a/n: let’s say their ages are somewhere between 5 and 9, in human years)

When Lord Elrond had meetings and duties to attend to, which was quite often, [Y/N] knew better than to disturb her father, or any of his esteemed guests. However, that meant hours upon hours of alone time, which could be quite monotonous for an elven child who was just bursting with energy.

Her sister Arwen was a much more peaceful girl, while [Y/N] was always looking for an adventure to engage in. Of course she did enjoy spending time with her sister as well, but she craved someone with more of a wild streak to keep up with her. Thankfully, a very tall elf with very long blond hair, who often had meetings with her Ada, had a son around her age, so she did not have to die of boredom. Or almost die from some unsupervised activity she recklessly chose for the day.

“Your Ada allows you to have a bow?” she gasped as Legolas, the son of the very tall intimidating guest of her father’s revealed his secret weapon. “I am still not allowed into our armory… because of a little accident,” her voice dropped conspiratorially, immediately catching all of Legolas’ attention. She was extremely interesting to him, albeit just a little odd. Legolas liked odd.

“I may own one, but it is a very small bow. The arrows are not even, sharp, look” Legolas proclaimed as he pulled out an arrow to show to [Y/N]. Her mouth was agape in wonder as she carefully touched the tip with her small finger. “What was your armory accident about?” now Legolas was the one whispering, as if afraid of their little secrets being discovered.

“I really like it,” the elven girl admitted, “I wish I had one. Now, why should I share my secret with you?” she teased, sticking her tongue out.

“I don’t know, maybe I know someone who could provide you with a bow, just like this, for you,” Legolas smirked, feeling all high and mighty. [Y/N] all but gasped in surprise and unexpected joy. Her expressiveness and energy drew Legolas to want to be around her all the time. The ideas she had were always fun, and time passed by much faster when they spent it together while their fathers had their boring meetings. Her hair was never tame like his, and she talked loudly sometimes, but she was just… warm.

“I’m afraid my Ada would find that bow really quickly, sadly,” she sighed, her small shoulders slumping in newly felt defeat. “He always finds out everything,” she muttered. Legolas nodded in understanding. “However… I was wondering,” she continued hesitantly, weighing her words for a moment, “if you could show me how to use your bow?”

[Y/N] was swinging her legs over the edge of a little wooden bridge they were sitting on, to calm her nerves, but she gathered the courage to look up into Legolas’ eyes.

She smells pretty, he thought. Like a forest in winter.

“If you’d like, I can show you my collection of really pretty rocks,” she offered in return, attempting her best charming smile, “you can even pick one as a gift. I think they are all very unique.”

“Really?” Legolas grinned, not even needing a moment to consider the counter-offer. As a little elven-prince, he greatly enjoyed pretty things from nature. Especially tokens from girls who smell pretty and have enchanting laughter.

“Of course,” she nodded excitedly, a lock of hair falling over her eyes. She giggled, got up as quickly as possible, eager to start her very first archery lesson with a rather charming and interesting elvish prince. She outstretched her hand towards the blond elf to get him up too – she was in a bit of a hurry, after all.

At that moment, Legolas decided he trusted her.

🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃

T W O

(a/n: here they’re a bit older children, but still children. would be around 10-13 years in human years)

“Have you ever kissed anybody?” [Y/N] inquired with ever-present curiosity in her eyes. Legolas almost stopped dead in his tracks. The two were wandering around the gardens of Thranduil’s palace, looking for the tallest tree to climb. As time passed, they grew practically inseparable - it was difficult to tell which one of them lived in Rivendell and which in Mirkwood; both of them spent a lot of time in both places.

“Uh- I- where did you get that?” Legolas stuttered, slightly afraid of meeting her eyes. “And no, I have not.”

“Me neither, [Y/N] exhaled seemingly in relief. “And to answer your question, I have been reading about it in a novel I borrowed from Arwen.”

“Borrowed, or stole?” Legolas chuckled, having grown accustomed to [Y/N]’s ways and occasionally impulsive decisions. Many times she did not seem to be very alike to anyone in her family.

“Borrowed” [Y/N] gasped in mock hurt. “I much prefer stories of great adventures and majestic kingdoms, than of damsels that wait around for a prince to save them. If I had to wait around for someone, I would simply wither away over time.”

“Maybe sometimes it can be the prince who is saved at the end,” Legolas suggested, “or they both go on adventures together and end up saving each other. And the kingdom.”

“That would be grand, would it not?” [Y/N] allowed a soft smile to grace her features and her eyes met Legolas’ for just a moment. “An adventure, turned into a love story that defeats all the odds, and is a sign of hope in turbulent times.”

Sometimes, though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, Legolas thought about exploring Middle-earth with [Y/N], discovering all the beauties as well as dangers. Having each other’s back through it all. Hopefully, he thought, soon they would both be grown enough and skilled enough to go off on their own. Maybe a small part of him wanted her just for himself someday. Without their fathers, tutors, and any other elf getting in the way.

“So, what do you think?” [Y/N]’s voice brought him back to reality.

“I was... I apologize, my mind was elsewhere. You asked me something?” the blond elf confessed, simultaneously hoping that [Y/N] could and could not read his mind.

“Do you think this tree is good enough? Shall we go and climb and see the view?”

“As you wish,” Legolas concluded and then inhaled sharply in a moment of unbelievable courage. “Do you want me to kiss you?” As soon as he blurted it out, he couldn’t believe his own ears.

Now it was [Y/N]’s turn to be taken aback, but within a heartbeat the soft smile on her face only widened.

“I suppose we could see what it is like.”

Legolas fidgeted with his hands, completely unsure where to go with them as [Y/N] began to lean closer into his face, her comforting scent enveloping him completely. He was just about to fully close his eyes when the girl gently bit the tip of his nose and burst into fits of laughter before taking off running towards the enormous tree that she had spotted earlier. Legolas felt his cheeks burning as he touched his nose with his fingertips, but a smile curved on his lips nevertheless. He ran off after [Y/N] in order to try and catch up with her, and somehow pay her back for her little trick. Her joyful laughter still rang in his ears – he enjoyed all sorts of elvish music, yet he found himself preferring that happy sound over anything in Middle-earth.

And not only that; he couldn’t stop thinking of how she had basically clouded his senses just by being in such a close proximity. She is really something else, Legolas thought to himself. A grand adventure.

🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃

T H R E E

(a/n: late teenage years, perhaps? completely up to your own interpretation!)

[Y/N] winced as she fell to the ground with a thud, her right ankle twisting in an uncomfortable way. The horse she had been riding was running away swiftly, from dangers unknown to her. She heard no alarming noises, nor did she see anything threatening nearby, so she started slowly dusting herself off, still sitting on the ground, a bit scared to get up since a sharp pain started developing in her ankle. An attempt to get up was followed by another wince of pain, but she managed to get back on her feet, leaning all her weight on the healthy leg. Just as she was about to try and put some weight on the injured leg, the silence was cut through by an all too familiar voice.

“[Y/N]?! what happened?” Legolas approached her from behind, his steps hurried, but quiet. He swiftly offered her his shoulder as support, and the girl gratefully leaned against him.

“I took Eretor for a little ride,” she explained with seemingly no concern. Feigning nonchalance was probably the best way to go and not concern Legolas too much; she was well-aware of his protectiveness over her.

“The wildest, possibly most dangerous horse in the realm?”  Legolas continued inquiring, blue eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and worry.

“He was just...calling out to me,” the girl muttered.

“Well, that is so surprising,” Legolas chuckled, trying to conceal his concern over [Y/N]’s obvious injury. “I wonder if anything normal is ever going to call out to you, not just things that are deadly.”

[Y/N] wanted to glare at him, but she was interrupted by searing pain that sliced through her ankle, causing the blond elf to immediately stop pretending he wasn’t also putting on a careless façade.

“Are you alright? Can you walk?” he asked, looking her up and down. Before she managed to answer, she was easily picked up into his embrace, her arm still slung across his shoulders. When it came to this particular girl, he was overprotective to the bone, while, for [Y/N], breathing in the familiar scent seemed to soothe some of the pain right away as she allowed herself to relax a little bit.

“Lucky me, being carried all the way back by the prince,” [Y/N] joked, drawing out a smile from Legolas’ soft lips. “Any elven lady would kill to be in my position right now.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her, “Yet you seem to be the only one always getting my warmest affections.” It was completely true. Wherever [Y/N] went, Legolas followed, and the other way round, and they had been looking out for each other ever since they were barely able to walk and hold a simple conversation.

“Your horse adventure could have ended in a much worse manner, you are aware of that?” Legolas asked, his demeanor becoming slightly more serious once again.

“But it did not, I am alright,” she looked down at her already swollen ankle, but squeezed Legolas’ shoulder to reassure him. “It is nothing but a minor injury. It will heal practically overnight, and you appeared just at the perfect time.”

“If you say so,” Legolas exhaled. His mind couldn’t stop replaying all the possible bad scenarios, but on the other hand he found it enjoyable to carry [Y/N] and have her pressed flush against his body.

It made him feel like her protector, and he realized that her safety was one of his priorities. Of course, he was more than aware she could look after herself, but it made him feel better if he could contribute to it in any capacity. Silence fell on the two elves, as Legolas inhaled [Y/N]’s comforting scent - like a forest in winter, he always described it to himself. It made him crack a small smile when he looked down at the girl curled up against him and surprisingly peaceful, for a change. Maybe, just maybe, the comfort he found in her, she also found in him. He allowed himself to think so, as he tried to memorize the feeling of warmth and the shape of [Y/N]’s frame against him. It was so real.

“Next time,” Legolas began, after some moments of silence, “please choose another horse. Or at least a decent horse-riding partner.”

“Perhaps you?” [Y/N] quipped, looking up at him with a little smirk on her playful face. She swore she could see a light blush creep up on his usually pale cheeks. “I know that is what you meant.”

“Well,” he feigned perfect composure as his mind swarmed with possibilities, “that would not be the first time we did something questionable together. One of these days, Lord Elrond will make me pay for all the times I could have looked out for you more carefully.”

“He would not! I am nobody’s responsibility but my own… and sometimes, perhaps, I am my father’s problem,” she tried making a mock-upset grimace, but it ended up in a smile.

“One might say that you have become my problem as well, over time,” Legolas raised his eyebrows teasingly at the girl in his arms. She could never be anything even slightly inconvenient to him.

“And you, mine,,” she poked fun at him in return, “yet I wouldn’t have it any other way.“

🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃

F O U R

(a/n: young adults just before the fellowship)

[Y/N] was strolling through Mirkwood halls in order to return some things to the library, when Legolas practically stormed by her and disappeared in his chambers. She could sense the attitude even from behind closed doors, and she had a couple guesses what might have upset the elvish prince. Deciding to venture to the library later, she softly knocked on his door.

“Mellon-nin, it is I. May I come in?” she inquired carefully. Before she even had time to continue persuading Legolas to open the door, he already did it; a frown twisted on his face and his hair slightly disheveled, probably after he’d run his hands through it in frustration multiple times. So, [Y/N] found herself in Legolas’ personal quarters.

“What seems to be the matter?” she asked in a soft voice. Despite Legolas’ occasional stubbornness, she always knew how to get his guard down. Most often she was the only person able to do it at all.

“I have had a… rather unpleasant conversation with my father,” he huffed, plopping down on the huge bed. [Y/N] followed to sit beside him. “I would actually rather call it a lecture, than a conversation.”

“Continue, I am listening,” she urged him, but in a comforting voice, and proceeded to move a strand of perfectly blond hair out of his face and behind his ear.

“I am aware that I have royal duties and matters to attend to, but he just does not seem to grasp – we are not the same! I have this need to go out into nature, to venture onto unknown paths, find myself in unpredictable and exciting situations. That is who I am, not whom he wants me to be” he rambled on as [Y/N] listened and watched attentively. Wasn’t the first time she heard such complaints from the young and energetic elf.

“It would be vastly better if he’d just,” he sighed “just let me follow my own path, and then I would be more agreeable if I had not been feeling confined here, in this life, sometimes.”

“You know I understand you perfectly,” [Y/N] reassured him, “and I share many of those desires myself, but I also do have an understanding of your father’s ways. He just wants to look out for you as much as he can.”

“Whose side are you on?” Legolas quipped, feeling the tiniest sting of betrayal.

“Yours, my friend,” [Y/N] placed a hand on his shoulder, and the tension almost magically left his body. “your side is the only side I have ever been on, it seems to me,” she chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. Her effort wasn’t in vain – Legolas smiled warmly at her in return.

“Of course, forgive me,” he removed her hand from his shoulder and squeezed it in his for a moment. “I do not think there is need for me to explain the affinity I have for you as well.”

“Sit down on the floor in front of me,” [Y/N] nudged him, suddenly getting an idea. Without much questioning, Legolas obliged, and he was settled with his back leaning against [Y/N]’s legs. Wasting no time, she began brushing through his, still a bit tousled, hair, and Legolas’ breathing almost immediately grew calmer and deeper. There was no way he’d allow anybody else to do that – especially with him sitting on the ground – but [Y/N] always had and was always going to have special privileges. She felt like home and like comfort, but simultaneously an adventure. Like a winter forest – usually a familiar setting, but during the colder season slightly more unpredictable and challenging. But so wonderfully magical. Legolas got completely wrapped up in her presence and in his thoughts, as she quietly hummed an elvish tune from their earliest childhoods.

It seemed like it was just yesterday – the two of them chasing each other through forests and gardens of either Rivendell or Mirkwood, collecting stones, practicing any skill – from archery, to tracking, climbing trees… climbing together, falling together. There was no telling apart anymore where one of them ended and the other began – they seemed to forever be a package deal. Time flew by – responsibilities seemed to sneak up on them so suddenly, but both [Y/N] and Legolas were still rather young and restless (to dismay of both of their fathers), and neither of them was willing to give up spontaneous adventurous undertaking, still hoping for a great, unforgettable quest they would undertake together at some point.

[Y/N]’s gentle fingers were now busy weaving intricate braids in Legolas’ hair, and he allowed himself to close his eyes. His guard was down and he just wanted to enjoy this moment with [Y/N]; only that he feared if he spoke out about it, or gave a name to what he was feeling, the magic would dissipate.

🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 

“My life is nothing but room for you,” I said. “It could never be filled by anyone but you.” (Kurt Vonnegut, “Mother Night”)

-

“You are sunlight through a window, which I stand in, warmed.” (Jessie Burton)

🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃 🍃

[the-last-teabag]

Astarion Ancunin and Tyrus Aman’del after killing Cazador and (un-) living their best (un-) lives adventuring and exploring the world.

Since both once mentioned how good the other would look in their respective outfits, Tyrus naturally gifts his lover the sun-protecting Cloak of Dragomir (since he is the only one who can wear that dusty rag with grace), while Astarion fulfils his dream of putting silver elven chainmail on his lover. + braiding his beautiful white hair at every opportunity. After all, his necromancer husband should be properly protected - while being as pretty as possible.

This scenario is definitely what will happen at the end of @asterdurge fanfic Perfect Slaughter! I cannot be convinced otherwise!!

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Holding On

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings Ship/Pairing: Haldir x Reader Trope: Best Friends to Lovers Note: Took advantage of the potentially invented elven tradition of gifting someone your most precious possession after your first kiss :D. Warnings: Angst/Miscommunication - damn you Haldir/Slight smut if you squint and zoom at the very end. Word count: 2 836 Tag-list: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

The gentle breeze brought a soft tune to your ears. Of course, he would be playing in the first hours of the night. What else could he do, before leaving for another long month of patrol? Certainly not seek you out. The bitter lingered.

Haldir was a dear and close friend of yours. He had drawn you in with his cheekiness and teasing words. You were lucky enough to know those sides of him, usually hidden. Unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of those same unruly sides, sometimes. It felt harder and harder with each joust of words to stop the ones you wanted to say from blurting out of your mouth. Today was about fixing that. Upon walking the narrow path, your eyes met his silhouette before he could see you. The length of his hair covered his face. His bow and arrows were left in the grass, carefully propped against a branch. His head rose, and he finally saw you. A flutter of wings came to life in your stomach. He smiled at you.

“What are you doing out this early, melon?”

You had no good answer for that. Knowing he was leaving was one thing. Seeing him do so, even in your dreams, was another. Every departure was a torment for you.

Your lips curled sadly with your next words.

“Why did you not say goodbye, Haldir?”

The underlying harshness of your tone startled him. He paled, his eyes growing wide. He did not expect that. Not from you. You who were gentle and kind. Soft-spoken and careful in all manners of life. He never wanted to disappoint you. Nor hurt you. After your first encounter, he knew very quickly your presence could never be replaced by anyone else. When he identified those feelings as more than friendship, he snuffed them out. The mere thought of losing you because of them was unbearable. Deep down, he knew you would not leave him so. Yet, he feared it all the same and kept himself quiet.

“I thought I did. What is happening to you?”

A heavy sigh. Again, your emotions had got the better of you. The loneliness he left behind was a most cruel sentiment to have. Or to hold on to. His hands had stopped playing, and he laid the instrument next to him.

“I am sorry. I fear my future loneliness at your departure is haunting me in advance.”

Haldir chuckled weakly. You always did have a way with words. Even more so since becoming a script here in the palace. Where he was the one leaving, you were always the one staying. It tore his heart in two to see you afflicted so. The Marchwarden did not know what to do to alleviate the sadness in your eyes. You stepped forward until he had to raise his head to look at you. Soon, you sat down in front of him. An itch went through him from his fingertips to his shoulder blade; how he wanted to touch you right now…

“And you woke up this early because of it? Have I altered your sleeping by my rudeness? — Do not flatter yourself that much, Haldir.”

Finally, a smile had made its way onto your face. You reckoned that being mad at him was not your best skill. Unwavering, he stared at you expectantly, wishing you would answer and share your troubles with him, as you always did. This time proved harder than the other ones.

“I have made a decision.”

His eyebrows rose.

“What kind of decision? — About… us.”

His heart skipped a beat, and his breath shortened. He frowned even more, at a loss for words.

“We have been friends for a long and appreciable time. — Yes, we have. — Please do not interrupt me, it is already so hard to do…”

You bit on your lip, your courage leaving as water out of its bed. His stare became more present, his fingers tapping an invisible rhythm against the earth. Could this be it? Or had he been a fool this whole time?

“As a token of my appreciation, I want you to have this.”

Out of your hand, a piece of paper neatly folded — just as you knew how to. He had had those notes before. When you wanted to see him but could not fetch him yourself. Or when you wanted to say anything to him while he was on patrol. He took the piece of paper, seemingly heavier than the lasts. It seemed to contain something. Before he could pry it open, you stopped him.

“I also want you to wait until you are at your post.”

He looked at you as if you had grown a second head.

“Humour me. — Oh, I will.”

You laughed with him this time, inclining your head on one side. He found it entirely too endearing.

“I will, I promise. — Thank you.”

The letter clutched in his hand, he found himself speechless again.

A loud sound announced his departure. A few of his comrades passed you by. They soon waited by the end of the path for him to follow.

“Goodbye, my friend.”

While saying the words, he grabbed what was his, placing your letter in an inside pocket close to his heart. You noticed. You smiled as brightly as you could.

“Safe travels, my friend.”

He smiled brightly back, always one to try to cheer you up. Before you could register what he had done, he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles. His steps were barely echoing around you anymore when you realised. The flutter in your stomach turned into a full storm.

*

The advanced post took them three whole days to reach. During those three days, Haldir could not help himself from touching and toying with the piece of paper you left him with. He was patient; you knew that. When it came to you, he could have waited another lifetime. Yet, this simple piece of paper and what it contained, almost weightless, made him more impatient and frustrated than the longest watch had ever done.

Finally, he reached his destination, and they relieved the others from their patrol. He waited the middle of the night to be alone and open the gift you had left him with. The paper unfolded easily enough. It almost toppled the thin ring left inside. The details were weaved around it, organised in rows of leaves and polished silver. It could not have belonged to you. The size was too big, and the ornaments were indicative of a skilled touch. He held the jewel in his palm for the longest time, almost losing track of what he was supposed to watch out for. Luckily, his brother had joined him and kept an extra eye out when he saw him entranced by what an object he could not see. Rúmil only hoped it would be a good thing. And made a mental note to ask about it later on.

On the paper, read the following.

“Dear friend,

I have known you for the longest time. I have cared for you for just as long. In truth, I have more than cared for you. My friendship was soon turned into affections and my affections turned into love. True unbearable, unbreakable love. This seems sudden, I know, and if you do not feel the same, I wish you would forget all about this affair and we will go back to the way things were. I promise not to bring it up again. In my heart, I know that no matter what, I will always be by your side. I believe you know in our tradition, a first show of affection is to be rewarded by that which is most precious to us. With the ring, I hope to offer a payment in advance. You see, this belonged to my father. Before him, my grandfather and before him, my great grandfather. It has seen better times. I hope it will see better times. He passed it onto me, as his only child. It is my most precious and meaningful possession. I want you to have it, for if you feel the way I do, there is no other way forward but to spend the rest of my life with you.

You have known me to be meek, but when I am with you, I become brave. I want to be brave with you.

Again, if you do not wish for me in those ways, I will understand. That ring, nevertheless, shall always be yours, for I will never love anyone else.

With love, Your friend.”

Haldir’s breath stopped. The shock must have shown on his face, for the comrade next to him shook his shoulder in the hopes of waking him up from his reverie. A wide smile had spread across his face, his heart beating anew.

“Are you alright? — I am. Now go back to your posts, please.”

Never before had he said please when giving orders. They figured this letter must have broken his skull, for he spent the rest of the month whistling and daydreaming, spending more time alone than with them. The oldest knew. The youngest were still asking questions. When they received no answers, they settled for quiet speculations.

None of them could have figured out what was happening in Haldir’s head the whole time.

*

You waited for an answer.

It never came.

Your days were spent writing and copying the history of your people, under a strict supervision. Celeborn would have no mistake be made, whereas Galadriel encouraged you in more positive ways. They were nervous, for those scrolls were to be sent to other countries for archiving. They were a testimony and inheritance of your people’s knowledge and myths. No room for errors.

Alas, you were distracted. On the first week, you were wondering if anything had happened to Haldir during his trip to his post. Then, news came that his group had safely arrived. The second week, you convinced yourself he did not return your attachment and cried yourself to sleep every night. It was cruel, but you had expected it. After all, he was a Marchwarden and you were a mere scribe. The third one, right before he was supposed to come back, you willed yourself to go back to the way it was. He was probably giving you the space to mourn and grieve for what would never be. You had to let things go, eventually.

On the day he did come back, Haldir made no specific announcement to you, nor did he arrive during daylight. Rúmil had warned him about showing up at this hour, himself having gone directly to bed. Of course, he did not listen to his brother. Especially when he was teasing him about the love-struck face, he had a hard time hiding, all the way back home. The first thing he did was seek you out. Despite his restlessness, the odd hour triumphed over him, and he could not find you anywhere. Straight away, he went to your room, which for this hour should not have been this cold, nor this lifeless. Your bed was undone, it was obvious you had trashed around in it, the sheets left in disarray. Your work clothes were scattered around the floor. The windows were open, a faint trace of flowers in the air. He did not recognise this to be you. His worry only grew when he found inks and quills, papers thrown about on the desk. All of them with his name, some angry, others drowned in tears. The library was empty, your usual meeting point by the pond too. No guard could tell him where you had gone. He almost snapped his bow under the pressure of his hands. A quick detour to his room and he dropped off his bags and weapon. It was his fault. All of it. Not knowing what you wanted him to do, he had tried to write letters, never sending them out. It was all his fault for not telling you, even in unwisely chosen words, how he truly felt. What an actual idiot he had been. Only then did he realise where you must have been and ran.

The scribes had all left their working space. And here you were, hunched over and scrapping paper after paper, in your usual measured manners. He halted his steps. From where he was, he could not see your face, nor your hands, yet he was sure they were covered in ink stains and sore from having been overused. His feet reached you rapidly. You were about to cry out when you turned around.

Haldir had been right. You were wearing a wrinkled nightdress, clinging onto your skin with the sweat, your eyes haggard, hands covered in small ink stains. You probably had touched your face too, for it had several spots of ink there too. One by your left eye, over your eyelid. Another on your cheek, spread in a wild sprawl. The last ones on both your temples, where you must have tried to erase a headache.

As well as tears. So much tears growing in your eyes dying on your lips, nesting in your throat, making your skin damp when he reached for your face. How could he had let this happen?

“Why are you here? — I love you.”

He figured that in the state you were in, brutality was the swiftest way of ripping this sadness away. He did not think far enough to predict the anger that would follow.

“And you’re only telling me now!”

You wanted to hit him. Badly. Even tried to slap him. If it were not for his stupid reflexes, you might have done so. He would have let you, if the need to embrace you had not been so overwhelming. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before securing his arms around you. You relented, too tired to fight with him. Without warning, he picked you up a hand under your knees and the other on your back. Your hands secured against his neck as he carried you out. Haldir did not bother looking out for onlookers. They would have no answer from him anyway, too focused as he was on seeing your face for the first time in a month. It was lucky this mission had been this short, otherwise… He did not want to imagine otherwise. Your room was the closest, and he reached it first, settling you in bed. You were the one to stop him. Those pleading eyes he could not resist, and a need to rest his bones close to the person he wanted to be with. He laid down with you, and you fell asleep safe and sound in his arms.

* The next morning, he woke up with a back pain, in the bed only made for one. You were nowhere in sight. He sighed. Maybe you had gone to wash and would come back soon. He waited a little while before deciding he probably had the time to wash and change too until you arrived. As he had been previously, he was wrong.

When you came back an hour later — the ink had washed away with difficulty and you needed clean clothes — your room was empty. No traces left behind. Frustration took root within you. Where could he be? Showing up in the middle of the night, no notes, no nothing announcing his return. Not directly from him, at least. You had hoped for a letter or a missive. Something, anything.

He did not have another mission yet, as far as you knew. The only logical places he could be were the bathhouse or his chambers. You chose the latter. You stomped into his bedroom with no warning.

“You did not say goodbye, Haldir.”

A chill ran down his spine. His undressed state did not seem to phase you. But then again, he thought he was the only one in love in this relationship and it had proved wrong. Deciding against his first instincts, he put a light shirt on and walked to you. You wanted to slap the smirk off of his face. Just as much as you wanted to take that shirt off of him right this instant.

“No, you did not this time. — I did not?! How… — Please…”

This time, he was the one pleading for mercy. You were looking precious, like this. A nymph or a divine being, freshly out of the water, droplets dragging against your skin. Haldir’s thumb touched your lips lightly, plump and warm against his fingertips. Your breath shortened, anger drowned by him. By his arm around your waist, by his breath fanning over your cheek, his hair caressing your collarbones, your throat, firm hands mapping your back. The fire within you could not be stopped this time.

“If you start this… — I know.”

His lips touched yours, and the world was ablaze. He brought your legs against his hips. You could feel his desire against your core. Never before had you willingly surrendered to your feelings like this.

You felt the edge of a silver ring you knew by heart around his finger. You bit your lips hard and kissed him again, even harder.

There was no letting go now.

Only holding on.

[inbetweenhours]

How It Started VS How Its Going

Back on that @pinchhitsfromthevoid hype! This pinch prompt was for @dayables​ who I know got spoiled in the brainstorming chat (rip) but I still hope you enjoy how it turned out! You gave me the option of flower husbands which was absolutely not going to be passed up, as well as the prompt of Arranged Marriage AU. Since I just so happen to already have an arranged marriage au for them, I figured I may as well put some effort into actually showing it off since, despite my very long google doc of plot chicanery, I haven't actually drawn much for it or otherwise got much of anything to show for it.

The real trick here was balancing the angst and fluff. There was no way I wasn't getting out of this without, any angst. The problem was actually finding a suitable amount of fluff to balance this out lol. I knew I wanted to draw their wedding, since that's the whole base of the au and it directly emphasizes your request. The problem is that within the au, these two don’t really get to anywhere that's especially fluffy till weeks if not months after their wedding lol. That’s how I eventually settled on a kind of “before and after” of their relationship. 

Mirroring their less than favourable wedding day and first meeting with the renewal of vows they do near the end of their journey within my plot. Where they choose, despite already being stuck together, to have meaning behind their marriage.

Below the cut I’m gonna ramble about the lore  important to this piece from the au. Enjoy :]

Okay so first off- their “vows”! Instead of exchanging rings my idea is that the Ocean Empire and Rivendell each have a different giving for their wedding ceremonies.

Merlings have a selkie inspired pelt. Its technically their old skin. Young merlings are much more creature esq, and as they grow they grow out of that skin into a more humanoid form. However they tend to keep their pelts since they are pretty durable and are good for young merlings to protect themselves with and camouflage in the depths. As merlings continue to grow out of even that stage, their pelts become sentimental. kept close to their hearts. The lose of the plt is like a severing of oneself from their soul or heart. Its important for their mental health that they know where their pelt is and that is is safe. They’re not typically handled by people you don’t trust.

Which is why it is traditional that merling will trade pelts with their lover at their wedding. Its imbuing this trust that their partner will give the pelt back. As well it is a symbol of love and  soul, metaphorically giving that devotion and adoration to their partner.

Elves meanwhile are a type of fae. The rules I use for elves names are adjacent but not directly the same as other fae, such as the faeries of the overgrown. Elven names hold power over the individual still, but its far less than what a faerie might hold. It more a social power than anything else. Elves keep public and personal names. These “true” personal names can only be chosen by the elf themself. They are only given to people who you trust absolutely. May that be family, longtime friends, or lovers. Its not uncommon in Rivendell for lovers to not share their true names until their wedding day, though even if they have the vows are much the same. Giving their spouse the gift of their name, to use as they please. This is done both out of trust (much like the merlings pelts), trusting their lovers not to hurt them with their name. And more importantly it offers devotion to your spouse, which would be returned of course.

Now when it comes to Flower Husbands... this all falls apart. These two have not had a real conversation till their vows. They have no trust or love for one another, and are in fact quite afraid of each other. Neither want to give over something so terrifyingly precious to the other. 

Jimmy feels pressured to do so, despite Lizzie insisting he doesn’t have to, because he knows how a wedding should go. He knows the citizens of the Ocean Empire do not trust that his mother, The Empress, has made the right choice in allowing this marriage to go through. He knows if he doesn’t do his best to make this look and feel legit for them, then they’ll only have more problems in the future. And he really is trying to be responsible, trying to prove himself to his family and his kingdoms that he can do the right thing. He isn’t just the prince, the second born. He is loved by his country, deeply so, but nothing is expected of him. He wants to do one good thing for them in turn. Hell, he volunteered himself so that his sister wouldn’t throw away her preexisting courtship. He loves his family and his country, and he has never been asked to do a thing for them. He just wants to prove he can.

So he drapes his pelt over Scotts shoulders, careful and with the sudden understanding of how badly it hurts to see. How easily being separated from it would destroy him. And he can only hope Scott will return it soon.

Scott meanwhile doesn’t believe in another choice. He is the Chosen Champion of Aeor, god of Winter and Stasis. He is a representative of tradition for Rivendell. As much as he is fuming about the marriage, he has rarely acted out in his life. The golden child for so much of his adolescence that even when that love has left he knows little more than to hold his tongue and obey... for now. Still, he knows what is expected of him for the wedding. And despite there being no way for his family or the citizens to verify he abided by tradition in this instance, he is loyal enough to his god (and in fact fairly knows his god perceives him and he would know he wronged him) to not try and get around it. 

So he gives his name, as coldly and objectively as he can. It is not a gift, but Jimmy, traditionally, has a right to it through their union. He can only pray Jimmy be kind with it.

Ultimately both spouses are careless with their exchange. Scott misunderstands the importance of the pelt, and keeps it far to long. Jimmy misunderstand the weight of Scotts name, and speaks it carelessly. Its rough, and terrifying. But it leads them to understanding, to finding common ground and for the first time finding hope in their situation as they understand the other not as an enemy but as the only ally in the same situation as them.

Finally I’m gonna do a quick run through of details I was happy with, kinda lore relevant but with less flowery language on the plot.

At their wedding both are dressed in traditional wedding garb for their empires, as well I’ve referenced my board loosely to dress the crowd properly. Rivendell brides/grooms tend to wear white. It represents purity, white is typically only worn in formal settings o it wont be dirties anyways, and it doesn't represent either individual god. Allowing neutrality. Jimmy is wearing a loose cut deep blue outfit with small decorative. Dark colours but especially deep blues are traditional as they connect with both the deep waters and the sky, tying an individual throughout to the world and their life.

In their renewal of vows they wear nearly the same outfits, however Jimmy sports some golden Rivendell jewelry and Scott in turn sports some pearls in his hair much like how Jimmy had at their wedding. Its about the sharing <33

Wedding day was very formal, very controlled. Both of their hair pulled back and styled in very proper traditional ways. At their vow renewal everything was up to them, so Jimmy looks a bit more like himself (as messy as that may be) and Scott has both his kingship and his hair cut (lore) so he’s a feeling a lot more stable

Scotts wears gloves at his wedding, vs without gloves at renewal! Tied in, at his wedding Scotts hair and skin is patterned with growing frost as he gets cold feet (hah) and is very upset about the situation versus his renewals where he has much more control of his powers and very explicitly happy with the situation

That is all for now! Day I hope you liked the pinch! Everyone else i hope you liked the lore! I would love to do more with the au going forward, I have a growing plot document and love talking about it. If anyone wants me to expand on any thoughts, has questions about the plot or characters or otherwise, my inbox is always open and I am attentive to both tags and comments ;) <3

[ponder-the-orb]

The definition of home

Saw the epilogue where Gale is still 100% down to marry mind flayer Tav. And so THIS was born.

Pairing: Fem (illithid) Tav/Gale

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, post-game (pre-epilogue), Gale would still love you if you were a worm,

Word count: 4.6K

Summary:

“Have you really thought about the things I cannot give you?”

She reaches out and parts the folds of his mind, her own face impassive and wet through his eyes. “This.” She concentrates, projecting the image of her former self, naked and wanting, into his mind. “Or this.” Another image of her elven body, now heavy with his child. “Or this.” She twists the image until it’s the two of them elderly and grey, their withered hands clasped together.

Such pictures are not hard to conjure for her. Once, they were her own wants, the things she’d dreamed about a lifetime ago now. All the things she can’t be.

After the Netherbrain lay in the Chionthar and they’d found one of the city’s unscathed inns, she’d simply sat in the dark as he slept and contemplated just how truly alien she was compared to him. All the parts of her he’d loved, the places he’d whispered his devotion against– they’d gone. There was nothing left that could fit together, not as lovers should.

Read on AO3 or below

***

She had never thought that she’d call a wizard’s tower her home. Before, they’d seemed like such uninviting places: lofty, solitary and always exuding such an obnoxiously foreboding aura — perhaps to match their owners she’d once presumed.

It turns out, she’d been half right as this particular tower very much matched its owner. Gale had not exaggerated when he’d described its comforts. Every single floor was dedicated to either good literature, good food or good rest — and while it was as cluttered as an addled mind when they’d arrived a few days ago, it had been a strange sort of gift to sort through the mess and dig into the person he’d been before.

It had been a greater gift still to see him so at ease for the first time. Every discarded elixir or scribbled note had a story, one told with bright eyes and eager words- free from the poison of that Netherese orb or the expectations that had once festered so cruelly within him.

Tonight, as with most nights since her arrival, she’d retired to her favourite desk in a comfortable corner of the library. It’s a shadowed spot nestled between towering bookshelves, a thousand tomes watching her like a leatherbound forest as she writes. The window is half open in front of her, Waterdeep itself glinting in blue and silver splendour beyond. Her new city. Her new home.

It’s almost strange how that word has evolved almost as much as she has recently. For most of her life, it had meant the bustle of Baldur's Gate. It’s still somewhere she finds herself thinking of often, the wonky streets, the cobalt waters, how there was such a strong scent of ale and stone and smoke wherever she went. 

For a while it had also meant a continuously moving campsite, barely a few paces ahead of the Absolute’s horrors. Those memories of dirt and stale bread and shared bedrolls still bring a joy to her, despite the peril that stains them. They’re pieces of her, pieces that slid into place and changed her down the fabric of her soul. 

Even now it’s a little difficult to fathom exactly who she’d been before she’d been abducted. 

She looks to the small mirror propped up on the desk, really scrutinising the reflection. All the same elven features stare back, from the sharp angles of her face to the points of her ears — yet there are still details that don’t quite seem to fit properly. 

More doubts crop up as she takes in every inch of visible skin. Had she always had this many freckles? Are the scars on her shoulders new or old? Are the shadows under her eyes usually this deep?

Was this the face he fell in love with?

“Have you finished your guest list yet?” Gale calls from closer to the hearth. He’s reclined in an armchair, eyes glued to some massive compendium on psionics he’d picked up almost an hour ago. He waves his hand and the fire blooms brighter, perfuming the air with a stronger scent of bark and spices.

The glow illuminates those handsome features in a softer gold. She feels herself warm a little at the sight.

“Yes. Here,” she replies, picking up the paper next to her and floating it over with a flick of her own wrist. 

He cocks his head as it lands between the pages of his book. “This is really everyone you wish to attend?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve put Omeluum and Blurg at the top. I am rather curious as to what the Society would consider an appropriate wedding gift.” He smiles and turns back to his reading. “One would hope for a rare magical artefact of some kind but we may have to be content with an exotic selection of mushrooms.”

“Our correspondence has been a great help to me,” she says, turning back to the mirror and concentrating on how her mouth forms the words. “And they said they’d be delighted to attend under the guarantee they will not be attacked the second they enter the city.” 

She can understand their worry. It had scarcely been a fortnight since the city had been saved but the illithid invasion is already legendary news across the entirety of the Sword Coast. She’d seen multiple mind flayer corpses kicked into waiting fires, whispers about parts of their bodies being sold for high prices to wizards and alchemists spreading along every single street. 

It scarcely mattered. There was never going to be any outrage over that.

They were monsters after all: soulless, mindless, evil creatures, ready to enslave everyone who didn’t fit their image. After such destruction caused by the Absolute, it would be foolish to not be ready to kill one on sight.

She hears him sigh and shut the book in his lap. “There’s really no one else?”

“I’m very sure that is everyone who will want to come.”

There’s a quiet shuffle and his face appears in the reflection behind her head. 

“You know, you really don’t have to do that,” he says, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “I know how much effort it is to maintain.”

“I will need to do so for the wedding. It’s practice.”

He squeezes her shoulder gently. It’s a familiar comfort. “It’s just us, my love. You can be yourself.”

She exhales and closes her eyes, finally pulling her illusion out of both their minds. When she opens them again, her true form looks back. All her bright colours have faded, giving way to taut grey skin, a pulsing stretch of pale brain matter on either side of her head and four long tentacles. The textbook image of a freshly birthed mindflayer.

The slick pebbles of her eyes catch his in the mirror, but he doesn’t flinch.

“There you are,” he says, patting her shoulder again. “Was it tiring to hold it for so long?”

She turns in her chair. “It is just you and I in here. When there are others, it will be harder to distort their perceptions of me.” 

“You don’t have to do that for the ceremony either if you don’t want to,” he continues softly, sitting on the loveseat opposite her desk. “I’ve already spoken to several clerics and after a lot of explaining a few of them are happy to-”

“It’s easier this way,” she interrupts. Her voice is stronger now that she’s speaking directly into his mind. The lack of vocal cords had taken a few days to get used to when she’d first transformed but now she can scarcely think of another way of communicating.

He leans forward in the chair. “It’s not about what’s easier. It’s about what you want.”

“What I want is for our wedding to not be interrupted by a group of angry citizens, terrified that there is a mind flayer in their city.” She can almost count the people who know of this tower’s new tenant on one hand, only ever leaving under the cover of night and wrapped in several layers of clothing to hide herself. 

Despite Gale’s assurances, she knows she’s not ready to fully explore the city yet and neither are her new neighbours.

His small smile doesn’t fade. “No one is going to hurt you. Plus I think you’re more than capable of defending yourself.”

She nods and floats over to the fire, the flames highlighting the deep grey tracks in her hands. “Perhaps it would not be so bad. I heard that it is good luck to have at least one murder at a Waterdavian wedding.” 

Gale chuckles. “I think we already have all the luck we need.”

A long beat of silence passes as she faces him again. She can see another thought twisting in the front of his mind, clear as any parasite. It would be no trouble to reach in and find out for herself, but she stops. 

Waiting is the human thing to do , she reminds herself.

“Is there something bothering you about the wedding?” he eventually asks.

“Nothing in particular,” she replies and begins to methodically float various piles of books back to their places on the shelves. “Perhaps only that we do not need such a large cake when only one of us can eat it.”

There’s another moment of quiet, a slightly more uncomfortable one this time. She can feel the way his eyes bore into her, even as she avoids his gaze. 

“You’re a poor liar, even now,” he says. The chair scrapes behind her and she hears him pad over. “Can you be completely honest with me please? You haven’t seemed overly enthused about any of this.”

She halts her book sorting. “You want this. I want you to have it.”

“I meant what I said before. We do not need such a ceremony if you’d prefer.” His voice drops when she doesn’t answer, gentle as an embrace. “To many it is an unusual situation, but those that matter will understand.”

“That is not what I am concerned about.”

He closes his eyes. “Then tell me. You are not exactly the open book you were before. Forgive the wording but, I have never found reading someone so tricky.”

“Precisely,” she says, turning to him fully. 

She takes his hand in hers, so delicate and pale in comparison to each of her long clawed fingers. It would be so easy to break his skin with but a caress, tear all the soft places to ribbons without even meaning to.

“Gale, are you truly sure that this is everything that you desire? What we have can never be any definition of the word traditional or domestic , at least by the standards of Faerûn. What you want is something you envisioned with my previous self and that is not someone I can become again.” She pulls her hand away, something akin to a sigh projecting from her mind. “It is also not a form I ever wish to return to.” 

That was her one fear before evolving — the permanence of it. She could save everyone, save him but forever be branded a monster. 

That was before the universe opened like a flower before her eyes.

The moment she changed, all that abhorrence dissolved into astral dust. The walls of her mind opened, possibility upon possibility flowing through her until the bounds of space and thought seemed such novel concepts. Gone were her aches, her bruises and the limitations of such a weak shell, replaced with the thrill of being able to bend the world around her with but a thought.

How could she have ever been scared of these gifts? Of such wild beauty? 

But elegance to one can so easily be an atrocity to another. It was the first feeling she’d tasted when her mind had opened, as deep and sour as vinegar. 

Part of her still wishes she couldn’t have immediately known that reaction belonged to Gale.

He folds his arms at her words. “I know all that.”

“Have you really thought about the things I cannot give you?” She reaches out and parts the folds of his mind, her own face impassive and wet through his eyes. “This.” She concentrates, projecting the image of her former self, naked and wanting, into his mind. “Or this.” Another image of her elven body, now heavy with his child. “Or this.” She twists the image until it’s the two of them elderly and grey, their withered hands clasped together.

Such pictures are not hard to conjure for her. Once, they were her own wants, the things she’d dreamed about a lifetime ago now. All the things she can’t be.

After the Netherbrain lay in the Chionthar and they’d found one of the city’s unscathed inns, she’d simply sat in the dark as he slept and contemplated just how truly alien she was compared to him. All the parts of her he’d loved, the places he’d whispered his devotion against– they’d gone. There was nothing left that could fit together, not as lovers should.

She’d seen it in his dreams that night too: visions of him pressing his lips to the places that were tulip-soft, tonguing the sweetness of her skin, slipping his hands under swathes of white lace to touch her  — each beautiful thought piercing like a needle of ice to her mind.

It was the night she’d wondered if such caresses would feel the same now. The same night she’d realised that illithids cannot cry.

The walls of Gale’s mind suddenly slam down like a portcullis.

“Out!” His shout reverberates around the library as he swipes the air in front of him.

She floats backwards, almost pushed by the force of his thoughts.

“Do not do that again.” he whispers, the words breathy and broken like he’s just taken a blow to the stomach.

She turns her face back to the fire, mind burning with regret.

“I am sorry. I only wished to show you the truth.”

“The truth,” he says flatly. “Do you really believe that I didn’t think through our future? Or rather that I was lying to you and myself when I said that I wanted us to stay together. I’m honestly not sure which of those options is more insulting.”

She sighs and wraps herself in a new form—  him, from their first meeting.

“It’s a process known as ceremorphosis and it is to be avoided .” She wags her finger as she speaks in a perfect echo of his voice. “Day one, fever and memory loss. Day two-”

He holds up his hand, cutting her off. “I remember what I said.”

“That was only a few weeks ago. Is it surprising for me to wonder why you have had such a sudden change of heart?” she says, fading back to her illithid form.

“Because of you ,” he answers, exasperated. “You chose this and you saved us, saved everyone .”

She shakes her head. She’d never thought that rationalisations could hurt more than an outright rejection. 

“Yes, I was instrumental in stopping the Absolute and it may be the greatest thing I will ever achieve. But awe or gratitude are not reasons you have to stay with me.” 

“If I recall correctly, I was also fairly instrumental in that.”

“You also offered up every other option to me evolving, even using the orb,” she continues, suddenly finding it hard to keep her voice so even in his mind. “And I am not sure whether your own death being preferable to this or you still hanging on for Mystra’s forgiveness feels worse.”

She immediately tastes his anger at her words.

Mystra isn’t someone they’ve discussed much since her arrival here, but it is not something she can simply cast a veil over and forget. His previous lover was a Goddess , a being described as more wondrous than the light of the weave itself, beautiful and terrible as a storm. 

The very statue of Mystra herself had once sat at the desk she now calls her own, a cruel and shapely reminder of what she has to live up to.

It had tactfully been moved one morning before she could blast it into a thousand pieces.

“Do you really believe that is what I was thinking?” Gale utters after a moment. His expression splinters like glass in front of her, the frustration around him turning colder- hurt.

She immediately wants to take it all back. She wants to lie and say she was angry and jealous and pave over this whole evening with a sweeter candied drawl about the wedding. 

She fights it, knowing this conversation is long overdue for them both.

“The more foolish part of me wants to say no. But I cannot,” she says as calmly as her mind will allow.

She holds back her power as much as she can as he silently processes her answer. She can see the feelings churning behind his eyes, but it feels wrong to sip them now. She can handle his anger, his realisation, his wish for her to leave– but not his pain. 

“Tell me the truth in its entirety, regardless of what you believe my feelings will be,” she urges gently. “Regret will fester between us otherwise.”

He runs a hand through his hair, closing his eyes. “The only regret I have is not realising sooner that her forgiveness boiled down to me blowing myself up at a more convenient time,” he finally says in a firm whisper. “I didn’t care a jot for it then and I do not now.” When he opens them again, there’s a stronger look set there. It pins her to the spot as he takes a step forward. 

“The truth in its entirety, very well. You already know that when we first set out, our main objective was to stop this very thing from happening, so of course I was scared when you chose it. In all my studies on ceremorphosis, the same thing was emphasised repeatedly: that the host is completely destroyed, soul and all. What remains is merely a husk and there is nothing left of the person they were.” He pauses and takes a shakier breath. “Even if it damned the world, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.” 

The air feels somehow quieter as his confession hangs between them. She stays silent, waiting for him to gather himself. 

“But that didn’t happen,” he continues, his voice a little more resolute. “It took a minute, but after you changed I could see it. You still looked at me the way that you did before. You even made a joke about wanting to taste smoother brains than mine,” his smile softens, eyes glossier the firelight. “Perhaps you are a new kind of illithid, or maybe there is even more we need to learn about them. But I can definitely say that I never thought that a mind flayer could feel ashamed.” 

She bristles a little. “I am not ashamed.” 

“Then why are you trying so hard to push me away?”

She looks back to her desk, the reflection of their strange pairing shadowed in the mirror. “I will not be the reason you cannot have everything you want.”

He grabs her hands as she begins to float away.

“I have said it before. I am many things, but I’m not coy nor am I a liar. I made a promise that you will always be enough for me. That has not changed and it never will.” He strokes her palms in a familiar pattern and memories of her sitting with him in star-spun visions of the outer planes drift to the front of her mind. She holds onto the image, remembering the warmth on his face when he’d told her the first time, the light and love so clear in his eyes.

It’s the same look he has now, the same feeling unfurling hot and unyielding in the pit of her stomach. 

What she’d give to hold onto it forever.

“I doubt this was what you imagined when you made that vow,” she answers quietly. Her tentacles shiver as she moves her head as if to prove her point.

They both look down at their joined hands for a moment, before he brings one to his mouth and presses a long, warm kiss to her wrist. “You can pry into my mind and seek my true feelings on the matter if you wish, but after everything that has happened to us, there are really only two questions I have about your new form.”

He lets go of her hands and lightly cups her shoulders.

“Firstly, do you love me?”

Her head snaps up. “Of course I do.” Her response is immediate, the airiness of her voice almost breaking at such a thought. 

After all she’s said tonight, she knows it is not a completely unfair question to ask, but hearing even the tiniest curl of doubt in those words feels like a greatsword carving straight through the space where her heart once lay.

“Before, I always believed that illithids were simply not capable of any type of real emotion, other than mindless obedience I suppose. But I could not have been more wrong.” She looks down at herself as she speaks, taking in everything from her feet hovering a few inches from the ground to the pinkened tips of her tentacles. A monstrosity through and through, but one that she’s proud to be. 

“I know it can be hard to see. My face is… grotesque to many and emotions can be difficult to show when you lack even the basic attributes to form a smile. I will never sing nor weep nor kiss again but that does not mean the desire to do so has left me. And the feelings I had for you, they too have evolved with me.” She pauses, trying not to stumble under the intensity of her words. “I did not realise that love could run this deep inside of me. I can remember everything so clearly : the strength of your passions, the beauty of your kindness, all you are, all you have done for me. There is not a second I do not hold dear.” She hesitates as she reaches up, still so keenly aware of the razor-sharp claws protruding from each finger. He meets her halfway instead, leaning in to press his cheek to her palm. 

It’s such a simple gesture, one she’d done maybe three dozen times when she was still elven. It’s a stronger feeling now – every sensation against his skin settling firmly into her memory.

“Gale, it is no exaggeration when I say that you are everything .” She traces the familiar trail from his eye to his neck as she speaks, where the edges of the orb had once cracked his lovely face like porcelain. 

He leans into the touch, just as he had three dozen times before. “And now that you’ve had time to settle into this body, even with the tentacles and the talons, do you still feel like you ?”

It’s the question she had pondered herself for weeks now, one that she’d already been asked repeatedly by practically everyone… everyone but Gale. 

And for the first time, she has a firm answer.

“Yes, I do,” she says, pressing each word clearly into his mind. His face breaks into a wider smile as she looks back up, one that she wants to paint her dreams with should she ever remember how to sleep.

“It is curious in some ways,” she continues, “I do not feel as if anything has been taken from me, rather added– perhaps because I have no higher purpose to serve as the rest of my kind do. I am no slave, no thrall and I have no wish to conquer this world, at least no more than before.” She huffs out a small laugh, the first in what feels like a lifetime. “The desires I had then are still those that I want now.” 

“And what are they?” Gale asks, still resting his face against her hand.

She pats his cheek. “ You ,” she gestures around them with her other hand. “This.” She looks to the window, watching the nighttime bustle of Waterdeep gleaming below. “And perhaps more adventuring when the time is right.” When that time may be she isn’t sure, but she knows she wants it – wants it all. She wants to feel every inch of the Sword Coast against her skin, seek new ways to use her mind, love in every physical and abstract way she can fathom until both of them have experienced all joys and pleasures possible between them. 

“That sounds perfect to me,” he says, twisting to kiss the palm of her hand.

She sinks into the feeling of his lips for a long, wonderful second before letting go. “You really do not think that you will ever wish for more?”

She already knows his answer. She can taste it in the air between them- rich and sweet like honeyed wine. Perhaps there is still some shred of her old mind that lingers, one that wants to hear him say it one more time.

He hums for a second before gently gripping one of her tentacles. 

“You are the person I love. The person I want to be with,” he says, his hand leaving a pleasurable warmth as it slides up the length of her. She doesn’t notice the lower portion reflexively curling around his arm until his face is but a hair’s breadth from hers. “It is true that this has required a bit of an adjustment. Our relationship will be one of the mind for the most part, but there’s more than one way to be a family… and to be intimate.” He bends down, letting his lips follow the trail of his hand until they rest against her forehead. 

“I doubt the world will ever fully accept this.” Her voice wavers with an unfamiliar pleasure as he continues his slow exploration of her.

His answering laugh tickles her skin. “As if I give a damn what the world might think. To know that you care for me is the only reassurance I’ll ever need.” 

He leaves a lingering kiss between her eyes and the whole room blooms in pink around her.

“Thank you, ” she says as does it again.

“For what, my love?”

She presses her forehead back in her own imitation of a kiss. “For everything. For opening your home to me.”

He looks down with heavy-lidded eyes. “Home is with you: wherever that is, in whatever form that is. And you should never, never doubt that.” He leaves one last kiss against her face before stepping away.

“Plus, I never realised how fascinating the field of psionics could be!” She quickly pulls her tentacles back as he grabs the book he’d been reading. “You are a veritable treasure trove of discovery– that the power of the mind can rival the weave itself in certain ways has made for such an amazing study. Texts on the subject are fairly rare and, as I have come to realise, inaccurate. Not many have had  the privilege to see the power up close and I’ve already got several papers planned on the subject.” He turns back to her, his expression softer. “Provided you would be my co-author, of course.”

She drifts over, studying the masses of notes scrawled in the margins of the text. “Dekarios & Dekarios,” she muses. “We would certainly leave quite the author’s note. But I believe it would be best to have the wedding first or I fear you will be too distracted to plan such festivities.”

He chuckles and carefully puts the book down. “True. In that case, I suggest we return to that at once.” He pulls another chair up to her desk, smiling as he gestures to the empty one next to him. “Shall we?” 

--

It quickly becomes an open secret in Waterdeep: the wizard and his illithid companion. Questions fly as to the true nature of their partnership, of the work they do, the ways such a being is kept satiated in the city.

And if they are spotted on the evening streets or in the quieter corners of the Yawning Portal, the same answer is always given by both of them.

Their tower is open to any who seek knowledge. Simply knock and be welcomed into their respite from the bustle of the city.

Their office. Their oasis.

Their home. 

***

I take back what I said before, THIS is the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written.

[monabee-draws]

My Dragon Age elves! Each of them wears a token from their lovers.

(Theron is a sweet poly boy and yes, he does drag Zevran along into the Eluvian to raise Kieran with Morrigan. Kid is lucky he has three great parents.)

Some notes if anyone is interested:

Theron Mahariel - a Dalish mage who loses out on being First to Merrill because of his heritage. Romances both Morrigan and Zev, does the Dark Ritual, goes after Morrigan with Zevran and all three spend time together in the Crossroads raising Kieran. They also travel the world as a family, keeping the Crows off of Zev's back, and during Inquisition Theron and Zev go off to find a cure for the Calling, while Morrigan protects Kieran and waits for their return. Morrigan and Zev aren't romantically involved but they do share some gestures and sexytimes eventually (its canon she finds him attractive so 😉.)

Marin Lavellan - a simple Dalish hunter who struggles finding a reason to stay with the Inquisition to start with. Was sent to the Conclave to find an old clan member who became a warden, eventually meets and falls for Dorian as they save the world, and comes to love the people there. He and Dorian are apart for a few years while things in Minrathous settle, but eventually join up with some Eluvian help and adopt a child together named Davhalla (Little Gift.)

Silea Lavellan - Her clan's First, and a lover of history. Silea spends most of Inquisition trying to uncover the truths behind the relationship between elves and humans, and falls immediately for Solas' soft voice and wisdom. She chooses to keep her Vallaslin because its been thousands of years, and they don't represent what they used to in elven culture anymore - she is still proud of how it makes obvious her pride for withstanding human greed and expansion. Meeting Solas in Trespasser is awful because she appreciates that the world is what it is, and should only move forward. But, she's hopeful she can redeem him. Whether he is still in her heart by Veilguard is... on the fence.

Emmaline Bellin - a Tranquil mage from the Circle of Antiva City. She leaves the circle after a few years and is taken up into the Crows where she makes a fine blade - doesn't complain, survives off of minimal money as she doesn't covet nice items or tasty food, and an immediately underestimated face due to her mark of tranquility. She is saved by a kind Spirit Healer a few years after the cure is spread post-Inquisition (that healer MAY be Anders.) Now she loves life, is very boisterous, and indulges every whim - violence, hunger, greed and avarice. If she weren't now 'immune' to possession, she'd be a fantastic target.

[rukafais]

One of those interesting-frustrating things about Lolth in particular is that since she's a major goddess who was transplanted from Greyhawk, she's gotten a ton of different origin stories, a chunk of which don't have to do with her being formerly an elven goddess at all or related to Corellon as anything more than a rival for the elves' attention and worship

...and then at some point someone introduced the "actually Lolth used to be Corellon's consort-waifu and she was WEAKER THAN HIM and ALL HER POWERS CAME FROM HIM and she BEGET TWO CHILDREN FROM HIM AND THEN BETRAYED HIM, HER LOVER" and then everyone used that for the rest of time forever since 3rd edition and all the other origins and different stories kinda got shunted to the side.

And the punchline is as far as I can discern from timelines, the patient zero of that specific interpretation wasnt even meant to be like. Accurate in any way because it was from a novel explicitly framed as historically inaccurate (the entire storyline is a dramatized play penned by a specific person as a gift for his wife). And then it got real weird because SOURCEBOOKS STARTED COPYING THAT OVER AND TAKING IT AS WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED. DnD, man.

[witchthewriter]

𝓢𝓱𝓲𝓹 𝓯𝓸𝓻 @pinezki.

𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫! Now, I don't know if you're the type of person who doesn't like Boromir's character - but I am not. I love him. I think he's such a charming man, with big dad energy. He would be the perfect husband for you. I think you have a lot of ambition, and he would completely encourage everything you want to do.

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒔

Half-Elf!

Half-elves, particularly those who choose the elven path, become guardians of elven knowledge, lore, and artifacts. They are instrumental in preserving elven culture and history, passing it down to future generations.

𝑷𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓/𝑨𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚

Enhances senses

Immunity to certain diseases

Extended life span

Wisdom and Knowledge: Half-elves inherit the wisdom and knowledge of both elves and humans. They possess a deep understanding of history, languages, and lore, making them highly knowledgeable individuals.

Healing Abilities: Half-elves, particularly those trained in the healing arts, possess healing abilities.

Resistance to Corruption: Half-elves, due to their elven blood, exhibit a certain resilience against the corrupting influences of evil. They can resist the allure and control of dark forces more effectively than regular humans.

Leadership and Influence: Half-elves often possess leadership qualities and the ability to inspire others. They command respect and can rally people to their cause, making them influential figures in the events of Middle-earth.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Boromir is such a protective partner. He has an ingrained protective instinct towards you, valuing your safety and well-being. He strives to be a source of strength and support for you.

Takes initiative in decision-making and problem-solving. Even though I think you like making decisions, I think it would feel like a load off your shoulders if someone came in and took the responsibility from you

Boromir is one to learn from his mistakes - not run or hide from them. He wants to do better, be better. Don;t worry about an arrogant partner; Boromir acknowledges when he's in the wrong. And likes being open to feedback and self-improvement. He encourages growth and learning within the partnership.

Loves telling you stories of his childhood; especially the embarrassing ones - he doesn't mind being laughed at. Especially by you. He would do anything to see you smile.

Boromir, beneath his warrior exterior, possesses a sensitive and romantic side. To your surprise, he loves lighting candles for a dinner just the two of you (usually you eat dinner with everyone else). But a lot of the time, that can become too much.

Likes to dote on you a lot. This includes physical touch, but also gift giving. Your most cherished gift, is the bracelet he had made for you.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

An Early Sunrise by Randy Edelman

Wolves by Bruno Coulais

Hurricane by Possessed by Paul James

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Different Cultures

'You'll Always Fit In With Me.'

"You wear the pants in this relationship" (You) x "oh I wish, I cannot control you at all" (Boromir)

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Star-crossed lovers

Unbreakable Bond

Sacrifice and Devotion

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

He would never really admit it, but Boromir loves that he doesn't know what you're going to do next. Although you do have similarities like understanding responsibility, you love doing things that no one does.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Legolas! He understands you on a different level than other elves. Not that you encounter a lot of undesirable comments; it's just that being around Legolas makes you feel more like yourself. I also think you would be great friends, like absolute besties, with Éowyn. Both of you are powerhouses in your own right, but together, no one can tell you what to do. Seriously.

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

I think you're a mix between Arwen and Éowyn. Soft, gentle, feminine, yet passionate, open-minded and ready to stand up for what you believe in. You make your own path, you do not follow others nor what others expect of you.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

(yes it's a wild animal who decided that YOU were the person it was going to protect forever).

She was hesitant with you, and by the gods, you were even more so. But as she slowly made her way towards you, head bowed. To show that she was no threat, she lay on flat against her stomach and showed you her most senisitve parts. Her paws were nearly as big as your own hands, and when she stood against you, she reached your shoulders.

Boromir was absolutely gobsmacked. No other word for it. He'd never seen a wolf become domestic, a big shaggy beast of a thing. But nothing would stop the wolf from protecting you.

And when Boromir said, "Excuse me but that's my job," your girl snarled!

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠! Even though he was in love with your sister, (and had children with her), you always loved him. And when the rumours of Rhaenyra's children's paternal line were building, she came to you and asked if you would marry him. To skew the story that Alicent and the Greens told.

But I actually do ship you with Harwin because he has a soft heart. He doesn't punch unless the person deserves it. He's patient, caring and open-minded.

He suits you so so so well.

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒔

A younger sister (or a twin sister if you'd like to go down that road?).

As a Targaryen, you have the signature white hair and purple/lilac eyes. Thought of as close to gods, you never let such talk get to your head. You could die just like anyone else.

But what really made you different, was your ability to dragonride. (Oh and that you were a royal???).

𝑷𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓/𝑨𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚

To understand your dragon. To know what they're thinking and they know what you're thinking. Sometimes you think you might be able to warg since you have dreams of flying high above the city, over the green fields and past the dark ocean. All to be back by morning.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Harwin is taller than you, even if you're wearing heels or boots! It was a shock to actually look up to talk to someone for once. But even if he wasn't taller, there's no reason why you should ever be embarrassed or insecure about your height!!!

Harwin has flown three times, and only once did he not throw up.

It was a shock to everyone when you and Harwin married - at first it was a ruse, a fake relationship to keep your sister and nephews safe. But you began to fall for Harwin. Become protective over him. It wasn't long before he felt the same way. Both of you felt as if you were betraying Rhaenyra. But soon enough ... she had found Daemon.

Sadly enough, you are not able to be around your sister as often as you'd like - the rumour mill would still be turning.

But as a gesture of good faith, Rhaenyra and Harwin made you something to say you are their savour in this: a beautiful necklace.

Harwin loves telling you how much he loves you. He wants you to remember that he's now married to you. You are his life. You are his future.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Violino by Piero Piccioni (the most romantic song I have ever heard)

True Love's Kiss by James Newton Howard

Scotland by BBC Orchestra

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Like Calls To Like

Aggressively Supportive & Protective (Harwin) x Would Kill For Him (You)

Malewife x Girlboss

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Marriage To Protect Those They Love (End Up Falling In Love Anyway)

Love Conquers All

Intertwined Destinies

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Harwin loves your passion and open-mind. Those that cannot change are always left behind. Therefore, you have the ability to adapt, to foresee how changing certain things can expand the world in a better way.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Of course your best friend is Rhaenyra, you grew up together, you're two peas in a pod. Two sides of the same coin. Only a few minutes older than you, meant your destinies became widely different.

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

A mix between Harwin, Rhaenyra and Aemond. It's very difficult to find soft hearted characters. You're also very much like Helaena as well. But, you aren't traditional and you don't take anyones crap. You want the best for those you love, and you're so caring and ambitious.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

More than a pet.

A mount.

Your bonded dragon.

The beautiful, and graceful Silverwing.

Her first rider was the Good Queen Alysanne, who had spoke up for women and women's rights. She was a woman who could stand on her own two feet. She changed a lot about Westeros.

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐃𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲! If he hadn't of died, I think he would've broken up with Cho and delved deep into the Order of the Phoenix. Although his death signified that Voldemort was truly back, I think Cedric would have sustained serious injurious but came out alive. He now has a large scare from one side of his face to the other, and it those are everywhere over his body.

I think you two would be great together because this would make him more noble, knowledgable and alert. (But also he'd have great PTSD).

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒔

Pureblood Witch, also known as a Blood Traitor by Draco Malfoy (only ever said that to you once and only once.) Whenever you're around Draco and hear him say it, suddenly he has a little hex on him where his legs are like jelly.

𝑷𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓/𝑨𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚

Legilimency and Occlumency: you have the capacity to read and control minds to some extent. Legilimency would allow you to delve into the thoughts and emotions of others, while Occlumency would grant you the ability to shield you mind from intrusion.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Cedric thinks you're an actual goddess at times.

It goes without saying in your relationship that loyalty is the basis of your connection. Knowing he has your back and you have his, makes your lives so much easier. Even if you disagree, you only do so when you're alone. He's one of those men that say, "Hey, don't talk to my wife like that!"

You like to keep your gifts a secret; people wouldn't want to be around you if they knew about your Legilimency, although you don't try to look into anyone's thoughts or emotions.

However, you sometimes cannot help it with Cedric. He's very good at putting on a show, as to not worry you, but using your gift you find out he's absolutely drowning in depression and anxiety.

You're both very close to Harry Potter, both for friendship, shared trauma and his aid when Cedric starts to drown in his mind.

Cedric's Love Languages are Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation. He loves being complimented. And you both love showering each other in hugs, kissing and the like.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

May It Be by Enya

The Crown of Jaehaerys by Ramin Djawadi

Aeternum by John Lunn

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

"Do you love me or do you love chaos?" (You) x "Yes", He Says While Stroking Your Hair (Cedric)

Acquaintances to Standing Up For Him to Friends to Lovers

It's Always Been You  

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Mutual Growth and Empowerment

Timeless Love

Healing and Redemption

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Cedric loves how passionate yet caring you are. You have such fierceness but know when enough is enough. Mature yet not meek. He also loves your chaos,, it comes out from time to time and he's started to egg you on just to see that chaotic nature. You both feel comfortable with that because you know he will always look after you - and never leave you behind.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Ginny Weasley and Katie Bell! You're surrounded by badass girls, you are surrounded by girls who take no shit. Because that's exactly who you are. You are the company you keep. And you feel so comfortable with both of them. Even thoughj both you and Katie were older than Ginny, you took a liking to Ginny because of how much she stood up for others.

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

You instantly remind me of Lily Potter, or rather Lily Evans. Who, in her youth, was bright but also stood up for what she believed in and never let anyone tell her what to do. She was a badass. But her motto would be: Do No Harm, Take No Shit.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

You couldn't help it, nor your parents. These two wouldn't split. They made a stand. No one goes without the other.

You were completely fine with two kitties, now the other wouldn't be lonely! And maybe they could snuggle in your room at Hogwarts. On your bed, waiting for you in between classes and when it was bedtime.

They actually became a sort of therapy animal for the other girls in your room as well, because they weren't took fussed with going about the castle.