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loviatarsluv · 3 months

Text

Would That I (2)

“True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me

That the sound of the saw must be known by the tree

Must be felled for to fight the cold”

(all credits to the op of this gorgeous pic of my wizard <3)

pairing: Gale x f!tav (my own oc, Elara)

(takes place in an AU where the absolute and the cult basically don't exist so this is non-canon compliant, I guess)

rating: sfw, this one is pretty much purely fluff and angst

CW: yearning and pining, gale being very sweet and the gentleman he is, nasty drunk man saying nasty things, slight s*xual harassment, hurt/comfort, gale being protective, tara being tara

in summary: Elara and Gale plan to go to the market and spend the day together, which is cut short unexpectedly. nothing is ever easy for the two of them, it seems.

a/n: I’m torturing myself with this tbh I love a slow burn but GOD I just wanna write sweet romantic smut about the wizard already!!!

word count: 7.8k

Springtime in Waterdeep had to be one of the most breathtaking things she’d ever seen.

The way the dogwood trees bloomed and blossomed in gorgeous shades of pink and pastel hues, the way the flowers that had been dormant during the colder months were now full of life and bursting with color, the way the sun shone so much brighter and the breeze felt like a warm but gentle embrace.

Everything seemed to come alive with a brand new vigor— the streets were full again, the sounds of children running and playing as well as the Waterdhavian locals just existing and enjoying the sunshine for the first time in months echoed off the sides of the stone buildings that lined the streets. The faint melodic strumming of a lyre could be heard not too far from the Dekarios residence, as a bard occupied a spot just outside one of the nearby taverns and busked for coins throughout the day.

She caught the end of a familiar tune as she approached the large window in her bedroom— a song that she remembered her mother singing to her before bed. One of the last vivid memories she had left of her.

Elara hoped maybe they would pass the bard on their way to the market so she could toss them a few gold pieces.

She gazed out over the expanse of the ocean and hummed along to the song until its eventual end, smiling somberly to herself and adjusting her dress to ensure it was perfect, before pulling on her boots and grabbing the basket she uses to gather fruits and vegetables at the market.

It had been quite a while since she’d been able to wear her favorite dress, and today was the perfect weather, the perfect day, for her to finally bring it out again. She paces past the full length mirror in the corner of the room, stopping briefly and double checking her reflection. Her hair was mostly loose, half of her dark waves flowing along her shoulders and back and half of it tied back with a silver pin that adorned the shape of a mermaid, to keep it out of her eyes. Her dress fell right around her knees, the light blue fabric having small golden flecks throughout it as if stars were scattered across it. The neckline was low but not incredibly revealing, and it fit her waist and shoulders perfectly. She always felt so beautiful in this dress. It was her mother’s before she passed. One of her only other memories of her mother was seeing her twirling in the mirror as she tried the dress on for the first time.

She always hoped that she could be as beautiful as her mother was when she got older. She wished that she could’ve been around to see her in it as she wore it now, but somehow whenever she put it on, she could feel her presence in the room. She could almost still smell the roses and sandalwood that used to linger on the collar of the dress.

Gale waited patiently for her downstairs as she got ready for their outing, busying himself by sitting at the table and reading the local news. He had to admit that he was quite elated to be accompanying her to the market today— feeling a sense of relief when she said yes when he asked her the day prior after her previous denial of his last invitation for an outing. He hoped she wasn’t doing it out of pity, but figured if she truly didn’t want to go that she would’ve just said so or made another excuse.

He essentially jumps at the sound of her footsteps bounding down the stairs, standing quickly and straightening his clothes before she appears from the staircase, adjusting himself and ensuring nothing was askew or out of place. He smooths his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear and adjusts his sleeves just before she emerges from the staircase.

He had to remind himself many times that this excursion was nothing more than a quick trip to the market— but it did little to quell the sweat beads rising in his palm and the buzzing in his stomach. He hadn’t spent a lot of time with her that felt like they were both choosing to. It almost always felt like they just happened to end up in the same room as each other by chance, rather than choosing to be in whatever room the other occupied just to be near them. If it were up to him, he would remain at her side every moment that her eyes were open and even while they were closed. But it wasn’t up to him. Not entirely, at least.

He was only waiting for the right moment, or any sort of notion that she was even slightly interested— then, he would— well, do something. He hadn’t really thought that far yet.

Now may be an apt time to start, though.

“Sorry I took so long, I had to make sure I had everything so we can stock up and last us a little longer.” She says, gesturing to the two wicker baskets draped over her arms.

So this is what bards sing about so wistfully. This is what the love-stricken authors had in mind whilst they wrote hundreds of pages of longing and languishing— the beautiful girl that could make an entire room full of people’s heads turn in her direction just upon her entry, with long silken hair and stars in her eyes and on her dress.

He’s rendered completely speechless, which was not a common occurrence for Gale. His heart flutters and pounds as she smiles at him expectantly, awaiting him to let her know that he was ready to leave as well.

She notices him staring and glances down at herself, frowning. “Is it too much? It’s just so nice out, I thought, what better day for my favorite dress?”

He’s completely transfixed by her, he almost doesn’t catch her words before he finally returns to reality after soaring through the clouds. He shakes his head almost in disbelief.

“Not at all. You look… radiant, Elara.” He says, his voice low and reverent, as if he were admiring a painting hung in a gallery.

A blush rises to her cheeks as she tries to fight off the widest smile she’d probably ever smiled. “Thank you. You look… handsome.” She replies, mimicking his phrasing and making him chuckle quietly.

“Why, thank you, my lady,” he says with a bow, then holds his hand out as an invitation for hers. She timidly places her hand in his, and he presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Shall we?”

She’s taken aback by the gesture, her already intense blush only becoming ever more prominent and persistent, the heat in her cheeks beginning to feel as though she may burn up before they even make it outside.

She nods slowly, then follows his lead out the door, her hand lingering in his until they reach the front door steps. She takes a few steps ahead of him and tries to steady her breathing, as he quickly casts Arcane Lock on the door before rejoining her.

They walk side by side in silence for a little while, both of them happily drinking in the sights surrounding them. Elara is still buzzing from Gale’s earlier comment and the sensation of his lips against her skin lingered on the back of her hand— they were so soft. Like rose petals. She could hardly focus on anything but their softness, even while the scratch of his beard tickled her skin.

Radiant. He’d never complimented her like that before. In fact, she wasn’t sure anybody ever had. Not anyone that ever mattered enough to remember at least.

But Gale— gods, she’d write it in the stars if she could. She would paint the night sky with each syllable in only the most dazzling of stars, the brightest she could find— so that every night she could remember the way it sounded dripping from his tongue like honey.

A single word had never filled her entire body with a warmth that the sun could never provide. She felt as though she could fly if she really wanted to.

Radiant.

“I’m not sure if I’ve ever asked you, but how have you enjoyed Waterdeep?” He asks, slowing his pace slightly to accommodate her, her legs being shorter than his so her shorter strides made her fall behind.

He had asked, a few times. But that was months ago when it was all still new. Plus— her answer had changed considerably since the last time he asked.

“I love it. It is so beautiful here. I certainly don’t miss Rivington.” She jokes, a soft melodic giggle following. Gale’s heart flutters.

“There’s nothing quite like witnessing the changing of the seasons in Waterdeep. I’m happy to provide that experience for you, even under somewhat strange circumstances.” He replies, gesturing to the air around them.

She smiles sheepishly and averts her gaze to the cobblestone beneath her feet as they continue to walk. “Thank you, for that, by the way. For… letting me stay with you. I know it’s not ideal, to have essentially a stranger in your home, and I don’t know if I’ve ever properly thanked you for it before, so,” she rambles, trying with everything in her not to look at his face out of fear of what she might see.

He places a soothing hand on her arm, his fingertips featherlight against her flesh as she slowly runs them along the length of her bicep before returning to his side.

“No need to thank me. Your presence has been a delightful change around here, one that was unexpected, but welcome nonetheless.”

When she finally breaks and looks up at him, the warm and mirthful smile on his face nearly turns her legs to jelly, but she would happily melt under the sunshine that was his gaze.

Before she can attempt to craft a response to him, a commotion is heard ahead, and both of their attention snaps to it. A crowd has begun to form near the front of the nearby tavern, and not a single intelligible word could be made out of the raucous whooping within the crowd of presumably day drunk patrons and bystanders craning their necks to watch whatever was taking place in the center of it. She furrows her brows, suddenly remembering the bard she heard that morning, and hoping they’d been able to avoid the commotion. She watches closely for a moment before she feels Gale’s guiding hand on her back, urging her to go in a different direction, any other direction.

“Come, let’s push on. Tara will be waiting for us, and trust me when I say she is not the most pleasant when she’s been kept waiting,” he says, his voice low next to her ear. It was a throwaway excuse to pull her away from the ruckus and to safety to avoid potentially getting swept into a hysteria she needn’t get swept into.

If her mind hadn’t been so preoccupied by whatever was happening in front of them, she’d have been blushing furiously at the position of his hand, just above the small of her back. Something to try not to think too much about later.

Her eyes flick to him for an instant before she hears what sounded like a lyre being smashed against the side of the bricked building. Her head snaps in that direction, and the crowd parts in just the right way for her to see a young tiefling crumpled to the ground with his face in his hands, and an older human man above mocking him, gripping part of the smashed instrument in one of his fists.

Her face twists to a deep grimace, and before she can stop herself her feet are carrying her forward, her pace quickening. Gale calls to her from behind, his voice distant and nearly inaudible over the loud pounding and drumming of her heart in her ears. The crowd has begun to disperse only slightly, but a handful of people still linger and are either cheering on the older man or encouraging the tiefling to stand and fight. The tiefling’s shoulders shake and tremble as he cowers away from the inebriated brute towering over him, bellowing nonsense.

The man stands above what she can now see is merely a child, no older than thirteen, shouting taunts of profanity and cruelty that she tries her damnedest to disregard so as to not use her very limited knowledge of magic to send him onto his ass as she approaches the child, kneeling before him.

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft so as to not startle him. She places a gentle hand on his arm, coaxing him into looking up at her. “Are you okay?”

Before he can respond, the booming of the perpetrator’s slurred mockery echoing throughout the small alleyway interrupts them both.

“Oi, missy! Careful, the little foulblood’ll snatch yer coin purse when ye ain’t lookin’!”

He looks at her with desperate eyes, his yellow tinted irises beginning to gloss over again as new sobs begin to wrack through his fragile looking body. “I didn’t— I swear, I didn’t do a-anything.”

She searches his face for any sign of deceit, noticing the faint scar that ran along his cheek from his eye to the corner of his lip that looked like it had only healed somewhat recently. His body language resembles that of a frightened pup in a cage and his tears seem genuine, so she offers him a reassuring smile. “I believe you.”

“‘M talkin’ ta ye, missy! Ye got shit for manners too?” The man yells again, the sound of the broken instrument clattering to the ground following it.

She continues to ignore him, her stubborn nature refusing to let this drunkard intimidate her as she assumes that’s exactly what he wants, he wants to feel bigger than himself, and thus why he was picking on a child and a woman— easy targets for his drunken tirade.

Her ignorance sets the man off into a blind rage, and she barely has a second to comprehend the situation before she hears a grunt of fury and large hands crash into the side of her body, surely bruising her ribs with the force it took to shove her to the ground, nearly knocking the breath from her lungs. She yelps as stone scrapes across her bare arm and the side of her head collides with the ground. The tiefling jumps backward and out of the line of fire of the older man’s warpath, eyes wide and boring into hers in terror.

“Elara!” Gale calls out, pushing through the now dense crowd frantically.

He finally makes it through, and the very second his eyes lock on her as she attempts to sit up, blood running down the side of her forearm and one hand clutching her ribs as the other presses over the tender spot where her skull met stone, fire burns through his veins. He’s at her side in an instant, gathering her up into his arms and holding on to her tightly.

“Are you alright?” He asks her, his voice cracking with concern.

She nods, then glances between him and the child backed against the wall, her main focus still on ensuring his safety. She motions to the child for him to stand with her, and Gale steps in front of them both protectively as he turns to face the drunkard.

“‘S that yer boyfriend, eh, girly? Wanna know how it feels t’ be with a real man?” The man cackles, stumbling forward as he belly laughs at his own vile taunts.

Gale’s composure is slipping and he feels heat in the center of his palm as it begins to emit a faint and crackling orange glow. His fingers twitch against the effort it takes not to hurl a fire bolt right at the bastard’s cocky face, but it seemed he wouldn’t have to as the man notices the faint glow of fire in Gale’s palm and begins to back away, fear etching into his weathered and sunburnt features.

He raises his hands in surrender, then quickly rounds the corner and dashes down the alley without another word, and the wizard relaxes his hand, dispelling the cantrip from his palm.

The air is still crackling with tension as the three of them try to steady their breathing, Gale in particular finding it difficult as the sight of her on the ground and her sweet face that, prior to this entire encounter, had been adorned with a smile that could stop a charging Minotaur in its tracks, twisted in pain and a gash on her arm. Not to mention the disgusting comment that foul—

Deep breaths.

The crowd slowly begins to disperse, some eyeing Gale wearily as they begin to back away, some pointing at him and whispering to their counterparts, no doubt recognizing him as the great Gale of Waterdeep. Eventually they, too, depart, leaving only two of them and the tiefling who was still cowering behind Elara, gripping the back of her dress as if he would fall through a crack in the ground without her anchoring him.

Gale spins around and cups Elara’s face gently, his umber eyes teeming with distress and a bit of anger as they scan her face for any further signs of injury or harm. Her icy blue eyes were glossy but he could see the restraint as she held back any tears from actually spilling.

Gods, she has the most beautiful eyes.

“Are you well? Did he hurt you? Is your head okay?” He asks frantically, the words tumbling from his lips in rapid succession as he gently turns her head to check each side of her face.

She swallows hard and tries not to get lost in the way his strong but elegant hands feel on her skin as he fusses over her, and places her hand over one of his in an attempt at calming his distraught babbling.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she shushes him, placing her other hand on his arm. “Everything is fine.”

Gale frowns. “It is most certainly not fine, you hit your head and you’re bleeding. We should head back and clean that up, I’ll just run to the market tomorrow—”

“Gale.” She coos, cutting his rambling short.

He stops, his entire body stilling and a heat creeping to his cheeks. Reality washes over him again as he blinks out of his worrisome daze, and realizes his hands still on her cheeks, and her hand over his— oh, hells, her hands are so soft, so warm— and slowly begins to pull away. She nods her head in the direction of the child attached to her hip, reminding him that they had company still. He takes a deep breath and glances around, likely looking to see if he catches a glimpse of that bastard and hoping that he was still within range for him to send a witch bolt his way. He’s unable to hide his disappointment when his search is fruitless.

The child’s eyes widen when Gale turns once again to face them and sighs deeply, his shoulders sinking low when all of the air exits his lungs, his body seeming to shrink with his posture. He slams his eyes shut tight, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking slow and steady breaths to calm himself.

“Mystra, give me strength.” He murmurs under his breath.

Elara ignores the disgruntled wizard at her side, leaning down slightly to be closer to the smaller tiefling’s height.

Elara smiles reassuringly and places her hands on his shoulders. “I’m so sorry about that. Are you okay?”

The child stares up at her, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the man brooding behind her.

“He’s with me, it’s alright.” She says, making her best attempt at a soothing and calm tone despite her voice wavering.

The tiefling’s eyes dart to the wreckage that is left of what was once his instrument, and his frown deepens. “My lyre…”

She follows his gaze, wincing when she sees the extensive damage. She could tell instantly upon inspection even from a distance that there was no repairing it, and it would simply need to be replaced. She offers him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder. What was once what appeared to be a beautiful instrument, was now shattered into several jagged pieces, sprawling across the ground around them. She frowns, feeling regretful for its owner but also for herself— an echo of a memory from this morning when she heard her favorite song being strummed by it reverberating in her mind.

“What’s your name?” She asks him.

He bounces back and forth heel to toe, his hand behind his back timidly. His peach-tinted skin contrasts the dark mop of curls atop his head, with two small horns peeking out of them. He’s quite slender, but still has the tiny bit of pudge that a prepubescent child would have, his cheeks round and youthful. He reminds her of one of her adoptive cousins that she’d only seen occasionally when her aunt would make an all too rare appearance— she hadn’t seen the rest of her family since she was around his age.

“Dex.” He says meekly, his face downcast and defeated as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dex. I’m Elara, and this—” she motions to the man behind her. “is Gale.”

Gale’s attention snaps to her at the sound of his own name, clearly having been mentally elsewhere during the entire exchange. He meets the uncertain gaze of the child, and bows slightly, offering a warm smile. Dex smiles back, a small chuckle leaving his lips at the gesture.

“Thank you, for helping me. I’m s-sorry you got hurt,” he points to her bloodied elbow and forearm, reminding her of the stinging sensation biting at her nerves shallowly within her skin. She winces but tries her best to disregard it.

“I think I’ll live. I’m sorry about your lyre.” She says, motioning to the scattered wooden debris and frayed strings.

He shrugs. “I’ll live.”

She chuckles, her smile widening. Gale watches her with this unfamiliar child that she had no real reason to be so kind to, other than just out of the boundless kindness of her heart, and feels that warm twinge in his chest he’d grown all too familiar with since she made her grand entrance in his life. His heart skips several beats and the urge to whisk her away and kiss her on the stoop like he’d previously imagined becomes harder and harder to resist each passing second.

“Well, Dex. I think you’d best get going home. It’ll be dark before too long and I’m sure your parents will be worried. Hm?” She tries on her best schoolteacher voice, placing her hands on her hips.

Dex sighs, his entire body shrinking at the mention of his parents. “I don’t want to go home without my lyre… they’ll be furious at me.”

She pauses for a moment, then shoots Gale a pleading glance, hoping he has any bright ideas that could magically fix everything for this poor child. She looked at him as if the child were a lost kitten that she was begging him to let her bring home.

He looks toward the sky pensively for a moment, appearing as if he were doing calculations in his head, then wordlessly and effortlessly waves his hand in a flourish, whispering an incantation that reassembles the lyre with a purple hued fog of weave.

Dex’s widened eyes sparkle with glee as each of the fractured pieces of the instrument rejoin as if they’d never been apart to begin with. The lyre floats toward the child, basked in violet and sapphire light, landing gently into his still shaky grasp. Gale smiles and nods at the boy as the light fades, his eyes gleaming with a hint of pride.

“Weeping bleeding hells! How did you do that?!” He chirps, turning the lyre in his hands and inspecting each and every inch of it in search of any cracks or imperfections, then smiling a wide toothy grin, his pointed teeth peeking over his lips when there is not a single dent or scratch to be found.

Gale chuckles, then pats the boy on the shoulder. “Stay out of trouble, young man. Hopefully next time we see you will be under better circumstances.”

The young tiefling glances back to Elara, the exuberant expression on his face contrasting the tear stains still present on his cheeks. Before she or Gale have any time to react, he throws his body between them, wrapping his tiny arms around the both of them as best as he could manage, and nuzzling his face into Elara’s arm.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” He says as he pulls away and turns to leave, glancing over his shoulder and waving to them one last time before scurrying off.

She watches the boy disappear into the distance, skipping along the cobblestone streets with a childish glee that fills her with a wistful sensation— to be that young and for everything to be so new, for something as simple as a fixed lyre to make her completely forget any hurt or pain that had befallen her. She envies him, silently, as she watches him run home to his parents surely to regale everything that happened to him today, just as she wished she’d been able to every time something exciting happened to her during the day.

Gale notices her sudden shift in demeanor, then places a hand placatingly on her uninjured arm.

“Elara?” His voice is gentle and tepid, cautious. “Allow me to help you with this,” he says, motioning to the still leaking wound on her arm. “Let’s head back.”

She sighs, turning to him but unable to muster a genuine smile, still taken by real memories and those that never came to pass. Her lips curl, but her eyes remain glossy and sullen. She nods, the motion small and nearly imperceptible. Without another word, they head back to the tower, her arm never leaving the comfort of Gale’s hand as they walk.

Something so simple, something that could mean nothing. But to her, it meant everything.

The scent of balsam and sandalwood fills the room as Gale’s adept fingers gently clean the scrape on her arm, his eyes narrowed and his brows knitted together in deep focus. He pestered her until he could coax her into sitting right in this seat where he could tend to her, much to her protest as she insisted she could do it herself and that he needn’t worry about her.

Stubborn wizard, she grunted as he gently guided her to sit. He did not regard any of her disgruntled murmurs, her insistence that she was fine and not to worry.

Just as she’d helped that boy on the street, he felt the least he could do is take gentle care of her the way she would anyone else. He wondered if anyone aside from Alastor had ever done so for her, her insistence on taking care of it herself giving him pause. Had she always had to pick herself up? Had no one ever swept in and dusted her off when she fell?

He would. From now forward. Even if it were something as small and simple as rubbing balsam on the angry and gashed skin of her arm and wrapping it with the softest cloth he could find. He would be that for her. He would be anything for her, should she ask.

It wasn’t lost on him how intimate of a gesture it was, to treat another’s wounds, either— he couldn’t deny that he simply just wanted to care for her in a way that felt deeper than just feeding her and providing a bed for her to sleep in.

“That was incredibly admirable of you, back there. Stepping in like that. That boy won’t soon forget what you’ve done for him.” He says, his tone reverent and almost thankful.

She smiles a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “He seemed like a sweet kid. And I would hope someone would do the same if it were me, in his shoes.”

She says it, but she realizes that Gale sort of had done the same for her— the way he stepped in and made the man back off. The way he stood in front of them protectively, blocking them with his body as if he were willing and ready to take whatever blows aimed at her in her place.

“He’ll remember you, too,” she continues, her breath slightly catching as he begins to wrap the cloth around her arm, and wincing as the fabric brushes against the tender skin. “You kind of saved him twice. Saved him from a drunkard and an angry lecture from his parents.”

He chuckles, shaking his head causing a stray strand of hair to fall into his eyes as he does. “I suppose so. You took care of all the heavy lifting, though. I just helped with the clean up.”

She fights herself and her need to push that hair out of his eyes. Would that be too intimate? Would that push things too far?

Her eyes lock on the strand as she speaks. “You did your own heavy lifting, for my sake. Thank you. For stepping in. And for this,” she motions to where his hands are gently tying off the ends of the cloth. “Even though you didn’t have to.”

He finishes tying a very delicate but sturdy bow, then sits back slightly, still close enough to see every detail of her face as clearly as he could see his own in a mirror when he was close enough, and eyes her for a moment, a smile ghosting on the edges of his lips.

“To do something for someone doesn’t always have to be borne of necessity or desire for reciprocity. I wanted to.”

His face was so close, she could nearly feel his breath whispering across the flushed skin of her cheeks. She wants to say thank you again, but finds that every single word in her vocabulary has escaped her as she basks in this closeness and the way she can see the reflection of the flickering candle beside her in his dark eyes that still managed to seem so bright with the way they twinkled as he looked at her.

Had he always looked at her this way? Why did this feel so different?

“Can I ask you something?” He breaks the silence but not the tension as their gazes stay locked.

She nods, still trapped in the daze of the intimacy of the moment.

“Earlier, I couldn’t help but notice— and feel free to disregard my asking, if I’m overstepping— you seemed a little… off. When the boy ran off. You looked pensive.”

She swallows hard despite her throat feeling dry, her entire body tensing at his questioning. The emotions of the day had fluctuated so immensely and the mention of the culmination of it all in that moment only serves to bid them to return in full force. A pit forms in her stomach and she feels the urge to retreat.

“Perhaps a story for another time. I’m… it’s alright.” She tries to maintain composure, despite her words wavering upon delivery. She offers Gale that same smile from before— the one that never quite reached her eyes. He frowns, but nods.

“Understood.” He says simply, their faces still dangerously close. He moves one hand to comfortingly cover hers as it rests on her knee, patting it gently. “I'm always here to offer an ear, whenever you need.”

The warmth of his hand and his words radiates throughout her entire body, down to her bones. She notices the strand is still hanging in front of his eyes. She doesn’t hold herself back from brushing it away this time, her fingertips lightly graze his forehead as she tucks it behind his ear. Her hand lingers near his face for a while, but not nearly long enough, before she drops it back to her side.

Gale looks taken aback by the gesture, quick fire flickers of shock, trepidation, then elation flashing across his expression. He smiles a smile that sends a shiver through her, his eyes dropping to her lips and the gap between them suddenly seeming so much smaller.

Oh.

It was getting smaller, as she realized that the magnetic pull between their lips was getting stronger as they both began to lean in, her body taking the reins as her mind tried to make sense of what was happening and determine if she were dreaming or not— was this just an infatuation induced hallucination? Had she finally lost it?

“Mr. Dekarios?”

The sound of Tara’s voice calling from down the hall cuts the moment short, both of their heads snapping in the direction of the sudden intrusion. Gale sighs, his head falling in evident disappointment. He glances at her, her eyes wide and her cheeks a bright rosy red that makes his heart flutter.

“To be continued, perhaps. I should—“

“No worries, go ahead. I’m going to go rest, my head is killing me.” She waves him off, attempting to hide her own disappointment and slight shock.

Gale stares at her for a moment, the desire to kiss her still lingering but ebbing as he sees her pulling away, suddenly feeling as though he’d done something wrong. He opens his mouth to ask, but before he can she’s standing and quickly darting across the room and into the hall, stopping just at the doorway and peering at him over her shoulder.

She sighs, placing a hand on the doorway and using it for support, her legs feeling as though they may give out on the spot. “Thank you, again.”

He watches helplessly as she disappears into the hall and the sounds of her footsteps fade slowly, preceded by the sound of a bedroom door clicking shut. His eyes pinch shut so tightly that it nearly hurts, and he sinks back into his chair, wishing a blackhole would form underneath him and swallow him. He could conjure one, if he wanted.

He heavily considered it.

“Mr. Dekarios, fix your posture! Your back already aches enough as it is,” Tara remarks as she strolls into the room, blissfully unaware of the havoc she’d just wreaked on his sanity.

As per usual.

There were a surprising amount of cracks in the ceiling above the bed in the room that she stayed in.

Everything else in this tower seemed nearly pristine aside from appearing well lived in and well loved, Gale evidently cared greatly about his surroundings. The home was cluttered but organized to his exact liking, perfectly tidy but still cozy and comfortable. Anyone who entered would feel at home.

She felt at home, more than she wanted to admit to herself. She tried to continue to remind herself that at some point she would have to leave and move on. But as she lay in this bed— this large, ever so comfortable bed— gaze trailing along the strangely cracked ceiling of her bedroom, she wondered what the ceiling of his bedroom looked like.

She was certain there were no cracks in his bedroom ceiling. There couldn’t be.

Today had been immensely overwhelming in terms of her feelings toward Gale that had been simply burning embers and were now alight in full force— him having stoked the fires tenfold with his seemingly innocent touches and his evident care for her that he put on full display multiple times throughout the day, all culminating in an almost-kiss.

They almost kissed. He almost kissed her.

They were so close. She could still feel the heat of his breath against her cheeks and the skin of the back of her hand tingled with the sensation as if his hand remained there still, his thumb rubbing languid circles against her wrist. In fact, every part of her skin that he’d touched today still felt as if it had been electrically charged, still buzzing, and her stomach aching. She missed the feeling of him already and it was only a mere whisper of a taste rather than an entire bite.

It wasn’t entirely her fault, obviously, that it never came to pass— Tara had a way of having serendipitously terrible timing. She wasn’t always sure that Tara didn’t know exactly what she was doing, and she wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case this time.

It was endearing, most of the time.

But even if Tara hadn’t interrupted— would she have really kissed him? Would he have really kissed her? Or would some other force of nature and horrible timing pluck them out of each other's grasps yet again?

She thinks maybe he would have. She hopes.

Now, she’s not sure she’ll ever get the chance to.

Guilt began to gnaw and claw at her insides furiously as she remembered the way she’d exited the study— hurried and curtly— and the way hurt and confusion etched into his features as he watched her leave. She couldn’t explain why she left that way, she truly didn’t know. She wished she did. She wished she understood why she ever ran away from Gale in the moments when they felt the closest. The moments she had longed for for so long— so why wouldn’t she let herself enjoy them?

It wasn’t that she was inexperienced in the romance department— she’d had a few partners here and there, mostly in school, and one since then that lasted a couple years but ultimately just didn’t work out— and if she’s being honest, she’d never been nervous around another person the way she was around him.

And strangely enough, she felt very comfortable with him most of the time— aside from the occasional flips her gut did when she glanced up to see him at his desk, deep in thought and quill in hand, glasses perched just on the end of his nose as he read whatever scroll or tome he was fixated on.

He’s an easy person to just exist with. That is, if you aren’t hopelessly enamored with him.

Gods.

She clenches her eyes shut and pinches the bridge of her nose— another habit of Gale’s that she’d picked up— wishing the large quilt and plush mattress beneath her would just swallow her. Just take her away from it all and save her from having to deal with the consequences of her own idiocy.

Knock knock.

“Elara?”

The sound of Gale’s voice on the other side of her door lurches her from her thoughts and her body up from the mattress. She quickly hops off of the bed and approaches the door, her hand hovering over the handle.

“Yes?” She asks, turning her head so her voice appears further away than it actually was.

She hears what sounds like feet shuffling aside from a brief pause, before hearing a long and defeated sigh.

“Can we talk?” Is all he manages, dejection evident in his tone.

She reaches for the handle again, turning it slowly and pulling the door just enough to see him through the crack.

He looked the way he did when something was weighing heavily on his mind or vexing him— she could tell he’d been raking his fingers frantically through his hair as it was uncharacteristically messy and unkempt, his robes were nowhere to be seen, and he stood only in his white wrap shirt and his breeches.

Not now, brain. Not now.

“Everything alright?” She asks, trying to hide the sound of her swallowing the massive lump in her throat.

He shakes his head, placing his hand against the wood grain and gently pushing it, opening it further.

“The very question I came to ask you,” he retorts. “May I?”

She nods, backing away from the door to give him enough room to push it the rest of the way open, her heart thudding a million a minute. He stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his expression nearly unreadable. For as expressive as his eyes were, she had such a hard time understanding him or trying to sort out what mental storm was brewing in his head.

“I could not bear resting my head upon my pillow and or fathom sleeping a wink tonight without knowing whether I’ve done something to upset you or not. If I crossed any lines today, please do tell me, and allow me to offer my most sincere of apologies for—“

What?

“Gale—“

“—ever making you feel uncomfortable or uneasy in any way, I would never want to jeopardize the friendship that I feel we have formed over the course of your time here—”

“Gale, hold on—“

“—if I’ve done something to potentially sour anything, just know it was never my intention—“

“Gale!” She raises her voice in a final attempt to catch the rambling wizard’s attention, crossing the space between them and placing her hands on his shoulders.

He takes a deep breath, his shoulders tense and she can feel the way his body trembles slightly.

“Relax, please. You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable. Ever.” She coos, rubbing circles with her thumb into his shoulder.

A few days ago, a gesture like this would’ve made her entire being feel as though she were on fire— but after today, it felt right. After receiving such care and comfort from him, the least she felt she could do was to return it in kind.

He stares at her incredulously, as if he simply just doesn’t believe a word she’s saying.

“You don’t have to spare me, Elara. I saw the way you looked when you left the study. I never want to make you feel that way, ever again.” His face softens as he speaks, the pain of potentially slighting her in some way weighing heavily on his chest.

She blinks a few times, then that gnawing guilt returns with even sharper teeth, maybe some claws too. She pinches her eyes shut and releases a long breath from her nose.

“It wasn’t you. Truly. I just— there is a lot on my mind right now, and I don’t want to burden you with any of it. It’s okay, really.”

It wasn’t a lie, at least not entirely. There was a lot on her mind— even if most of it was that of a certain brown eyed wizard who happened to be standing in her doorway, looking like that.

A great portion of it was her family, though. How much she missed them all. Her uncle, she had begun to miss terribly. She wondered what antics he was up to, as his vague letters did little to quench her curiosity. She hoped he was safe, wherever he ended up or wherever he was heading to.

She wanted nothing more than to curl up in her mother’s lap and tell her all about Waterdeep and her lovely tour guide and everything she’d done since she left Rivington. She wanted to hear her father go on and on about how he must meet this man that occupies his most precious and only daughter’s thoughts. She wanted to introduce him to them. They’d love him, she thinks.

No, she knows they would.

His eyes find hers in the dim candlelight, searching them for something, anything that could answer at least one of the myriad of questions he wanted to but couldn’t find the nerve to ask. The pale blue moonlight filters in through the large window on the other side of the room, almost haloing her and basking her in an ethereal glow.

“It’s not a burden if it’s taken on willingly,” he retorts. “I care for you, Elara. Allow me to lighten your load.”

If the room had been any quieter, she swears the sound of her heart booming through the smaller space would be deafening. “It’s not important. You have many other things to concern yourself with, I don’t expect you to—”

“The only thing concerning me presently is—” he pauses. You, is what he wants to say, but can’t seem to wrench it out of himself. “What is important to you is important to me. I meant it when I told you that I would be here for you, no matter the situation.”

How this man has not been wed yet, is beyond madness to her.

“Gale…” it comes out more as a plea, as she feels her resolve to maintain composure weakening bit by bit as the conversation continues. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. And really, she felt now really wasn’t a very opportune time for an orphan sob story. Not exactly the most pleasant thoughts to have to sleep on. She knew from experience.

His shoulders sink. This was one of several attempts now that he’d made to break down the walls she had built up, and he was beginning to feel like the villain rather than the hero coming to rescue the trapped maiden from her tower.

“I do apologize. I fear I’m overstepping once again. Here may be a good place to leave this conversation for now. I’ll let you rest.” He resigns, his words betraying the sullen expression he held.

“Gale, no, I didn’t mean—”

He holds his hand up to stop her. “It’s quite alright. Get some rest. Goodnight, Elara.”

Before she can stop him, he turns to leave, pulling the door shut behind him.

The room suddenly feels several degrees colder than it had prior to what had just occurred. She feels as though all of the oxygen had been sucked from her lungs and every bit of strength had been sapped from her body within a split second— emotional fortitude included, as tears that had been begging to be shed that she had been neglecting for longer than she could confidently say finally began to fall, slipping down her cheeks and wetting the collar of her night shirt.

Her head falls back as she makes eye contact with the ceiling once again, gaze finding a large crack just above where she stood. It looked fresh, almost. Like it had occurred within the last day or so.

She wondered if he noticed it while he stood in the doorway.

She wondered if he was in his room, staring at the ceiling of his own bedroom, checking for cracks.

“Goodnight, Gale.” She whispers into the darkness of the night.

tags: @goddess-bound @mirandpeglell @celestialowlbear 🩷 (thank u guys for ur love I hope u like this chapter!!!!)

this is part two of a series - ✧ (chapter 1)

#gale dekarios fic #gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios fanfic #gale dekarios fanfiction #gale dekarios #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #baldur’s gate 3 fanfiction #my fics #wti

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ash-arts-a-thing · 7 months

Text

Specter Carlo AU events for Chapters 4 & 5! I was originally going to add 6 to this too, but since a lot of big events happen with Romeo in that chapter it would make the post too long 😮‍💨

These two chapters cover more of Carlo’s dialogue as well as the start of the branching conversation and reaction between Truth and Lie playthroughs

[Character Notes] [Chapters 1-3] [Chapter 6]

Chapter 4

• The hike through the mine shafts and Twilight Town remain unaltered until arriving at the tram cart. Carlo will coment once you get on the tram regardless of whether or not Pinocchio uses the stalker salute to get on, though his response will be different depending on the scenario.

• If Pinocchio killed the Atoned, Carlo will comment: “Does it feel good? Killing people? Do you even feel anything at all when you get splattered in their blood?”

• If Pinocchio lied and used the ‘stalker salute’, Carlo will coment: “It’s weird, you know? Seeing a puppet lie, it’s almost like… Hmm.”

• Gemini will still have his usual little spiel, either nervously laughing and changing the subject to something more light hearted in the truth playthrough, or just taking Carlo’s silence as his queue to make a joke.

• Giangio is unaware of Carlo... Right?

• When Pinocchio enters the chapel Carlo will will coment: “This place is swarming with those freakish monsters, things just keep getting better, don’t they?”

• Carlo will coment on Cecile upon meeting her, he will say: “She seems devoted. I wonder what she’ll do if you can’t find that mark.”

• Upon meeting Alidoro, Carlo will have a different response depending on what you tell you him.

• If you tell Alidoro about Hotel Krat he will say: “You told him about the Hotel? Really? The Stalker? You really are a naive puppet.” (Note that he will also say this if you tell him about the hotel when you see him again at Venigni Works).

• If you send Alidoro to Venigni Works he will say: “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but good idea. You don’t know this guy or what he’s capable of. It’s best not to tell him about the Hotel.”

• Carlo will have new dialogue options when summoned before the Archbishop.

These dialogue options are:

“What do you think of the chapel?”

Carlo: “It isn’t my thing. I have never and will never have any interest in religion. They sure spent a pretty penny on this place though.”

“Do you think the Gold Coin Fruit tree actually exists?”

Carlo: “Yeah I do. What? Sometimes it’s fun to believe in something childish. If it turns out to be real I’ll even play you a song on the piano. If I ever get a tangible body, that is.”

“Tell me about this boss.” (He will have multiple responses to this.)

1. “I heard the bishop was obsessed with wealth. I guess it’s true, money really can corrupt anybody.”

2. “We only saw part of what the Archbishop became before he crawled down that hole earlier. Expect the unexpected.”

3. “With that long snake body and messed up… ‘wing’ it looks like he’s going to have a pretty far reach. I wouldn’t stand too close to him, but that’s just me.”

4. “I just know it’s going to smell horrible in there, there’s no way the home of a monster is going to be clean in any capacity.”

5. “I’d suggest using fire. Besides the irony of a holy cleansing flame, he’s still organic. Being set on fire isn’t going to feel good.”

Battle dialogue for the Archbishop:

1. “Oh wow, that is… very hard to look at.”

2. “Who would’ve thought chicken legs could be so strong!”

3. “EUGH! Really?! With its tongue?! Disgusting!”

(Phase 2)

4. “Somehow he’s gotten even uglier.”

5. “Make him regret coming out of his shell!”

6. “God chose you to be an Angel alright. Just not one that roams the earth.”

• If Cecile was given the mark and Pinocchio returns to find the letter and the record Carlo will say: “A killer turned nun, that’s something I didn’t expect to hear. I guess it just shows how much people can really change if given the chance...”

• If Cecile isn’t given the mark and Pinocchio returns and kills her monster form he will say: “I guess that’s what she’ll do. Even the nun isn’t free of sin.”

• Upon heading back to the hotel Carlo will have new things to say should Pinocchio use the mirror in his room again.

• At this point his dialogue will start to branch, certain dialogue only appearing during certain playthroughs or choices.

These dialogue options are:

“What are you thinking about?” (He will have multiple responses to this.)

1. (If you told Alidoro about the hotel) “I still can’t believe you told that mongrel about the hotel. You know it’s going to come back and bite us right?”

2. (If Alidoro comes to the hotel on his own) “I really don’t like that Stalker being here. Don’t get me wrong, I admire Stalkers as much as the next guy, but that guy? Something is off about him.”

3. (If you killed the Atoned) “You know, killing that Stalker at the tram wasn’t necessary. You could’ve lied. Unless you… like killing humans?”

4. (If you lied to the Atoned) “It was smart, lying to get past that Stalker like that. Why have unnecessary blood on your hands. Although, it’s strange that you would care about that, isn’t it?”

5. “Glad that business with the church is over with, that place was making me itchy. I didn’t even know I could get itchy when I’m like this.”

6. “Seeing all those books in the church makes me miss being able to sit down and read. If I could I’d be opening up my favourite book right now.”

7. “Something about that Giangio guy seems suspicious to me, like he isn’t telling the whole story… What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Chapter 5

• Carlo will be unable to coment along the Path of Pilgram due to a lack of reflective surfaces, but rest assured that he is not happy being there.

• Once it starts raining upon reaching the bridge to the Malum District he will be able to talk again, this will trigger a conversation between Gemini and Carlo.

The conversation will go:

Carlo: “Finally, that place was creepy as hell. You always take me to such nice places, don’t you?”

Gemini: “If you hate it so much then why are you here? Can’t you just go somewhere else?”

Carlo: “Despite how much I complain, cricket, I would still prefer to keep both of us alive. I don’t know how many times I have to reiterate that.”

• Carlo will have say something depending on what you choose to do with the Fox and Cat.

• If Pinocchio agrees to have them follow along and after the Cat calls him an idiot, Carlo will say: “You heard him right? He called you an idiot. I’m not gonna lie, I kind of agree.”

• If Pinocchio refuses to have them follow along, Carlo will say: “I don’t think they’d be helpful for very long anyway. Did you see those bells on their jackets? Looks like somebodies eyesight is going.”

• After the youngest of the Black Rabbit Brotherhood has complimented Pinocchio’s looks (and subsequently insults him), Carlo will coment: “She may have insulted you, but at least she has taste when it comes to the looks department.”

• Carlo will have new dialogue options when summoned before the Black Rabbit Brotherhood.

These dialogue options are:

“How do you feel about the rain?”

Carlo: “Why are you asking? Is it because I was complaining about the heat? Well, funny man, I happen to really like the rain, so no complaints here.”

“Are you scared of the monsters?”

Carlo: “Afraid? No. Disgusted and appalled? Yes. Nobody should be subjected to this. Especially not somebody that’s been afflicted by this disease.”

“Tell me about this boss.” (He will have multiple responses to this)

1. “Good thing you summoned me for this one. They were probably planning on making it four against one, kinda makes them look a bit… hmm… pathetic?”

2. “Usually I think Stalkers are pretty cool, they all seem to hold themselves with this sort of… nobility? That might not be the right word. Whatever the word is though, I don’t feel it with them.”

3. “Maybe in another life these guys could’ve really helped people. Then again, maybe they would’ve turned out the same.”

4. “Try focusing on the smaller siblings before focusing on the big guy. I say that because I already know they’ll all going try to dog pile you, don’t let them get the upper hand.”

Battle dialogue for the Black Rabbit Brotherhood:

1. “Ha! What a joke! That’s not a rabbit mask, he looks like a pig!”

2. “Would somebody shut her up already!”

3. “Half of you aren’t even rabbits! Bucket Head over there looks like a dog!”

4. “Oh this guy is the most pretentious of them all.”

5. “How pathetic and you call yourselves stalkers? Don’t bother coming back!”

• The portrait is still collectable upon entering the town hall, if acquired Gemini will still have his original dialogue, but Carlo will also chime in and trigger a conversation between the two.

• The conversation will go:

Carlo: “That’s… an interesting find. Gemini is right, it does look just like you.”

Gemini: “Wow, he actually called me by my name!”

Carlo: “Don’t get used to it.”

• The conversation with Giangio upon finding the Gold Coin Fruit tree stays the same, as well as the cutscene of picking the first fruit.

• Dialogue with Gepetto upon handing over the portrait will also stay the same.

• Carlo will have new dialogue upon speaking to him in Pinocchio’s room.

These dialogue options are:

“About the tree…”

Carlo: “I still can’t believe it exists and I literally saw it with my own eyes. On top of that, I was definitely not expecting it to be in the Hotel garden. I guess… this means I owe you a song on the piano sometime.”

“Why do you look up to the Stalkers?”

Carlo: “Have you seen their swordplay? It’s legendary, well, most of them anyway. I’ve always wanted to be taught how to fight by one of them.”

“What are you thinking about?” (He will have multiple responses to this.)

1. “I was expecting the Brotherhood to be better than that. They claim they’re constantly fighting puppets, yet they get taken down by one? That’s sad. (If it’s a lie playthrough he will add) Uh, no offence.”

2. “I kind of miss all that rain, it was nice. Even when we were slogging through knee deep water. I hope it rains again soon.”

3. (Truth)Carlo: “Why are you so nosy? Don’t you have better things to do than bother me?”

Gemini: “You don’t have to be so rude, you know.”

Carlo: “And you don’t have to be so annoying, yet here we are.”

4. (Lie)Carlo: “Nosy, aren’t you? Well, if you want to know that bad, I’m thinking about an old friend of mine.”

Gemini: “You had friends?”

Carlo: “That’s fair, I can’t knock you for that. There were only two people that could ever really tolerate me. Even my own dad didn’t… Ah, nevermind.”

#lies of p #lies of p spoilers #Specter Carlo AU #pinocchio #Carlo #Gemini #Giangio #Alidoro #Cecile

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xbraveheartx · 6 months

Note

OMGOMGOMGOMG I came running here when I saw this post on reddit.

"The loading screens are Paracelsus' report on Krat

Also makes sense that the loading screens were updating to new visuals as you progressed - Paracelsus was making his notes on you as you went through the story"

Therefore, the discrepancies between what we know and the loading screens.

Therefore, the Lies of P. :D

Oh HELLO????? 👀 That's actually... such an excellent theory? And I feel like it really makes sense, it's all collections of observations-- not to mention the picture of Alidoro? Is... upstairs where we never see him? Y'know. Angled more so from the direction where our dear "Giangio" is chilling, close to the Gold Coin Fruit Tree?

Saying that now actually made me gasp like holy shit that's RIGHT the image IS from that direction-- I ALWAYS thought it was WEIRD!

This is wild, oh my gosh, I think I'm sold on this! Lies of P-- More like The Misinformation of Philippus Paracelsus LMAO

#Lies of P #Lies of P Spoilers #This is so GOOD!! I always thought the notes/scribbles on the photos were from P himself?#But it makes... a lot more sense... for it to be from Paracelsus 👀 THANK YOU FOR THIS FRIEND????#I was blind but now I see-- 🤣 I am touched that you came bursting into MY inbox with this information you just KNEW I was HERE for it!!!!

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chikirya · 1 month

Text

Lies of P Student Council AU

....but it's the Monad charity house and Carlo and Romeo are actually academic rivals turned love interests.

Romeo is the SC President - popular, charming, charismatic, AND a hard worker? Yes. Landslide victory

Carlo as VP - by appointment or by democratic vote too, C has his charm! Or maybe the whole school ships them too idk would be funny

P for Secretary - quiet and diligent! sec. stuff means you're running around to get paperwork approved and P seems like the boy teachers would love.

OR P as Treasurer - look we've all seen how the Gold Coin Tree only gives its fruit to those without greed need i say more.

#yes maybe i was thinking of Shirogane and Kaguya for the two above #lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p romeo #lop #lies of p carlo #carmeo #romeo king of puppets #lies of p au #lies of p for shits and giggles #fan rambling #kaguya sama: love is war #special mention

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stalkerofthegods · 5 months

Text

Zeus Greek god, Straight to the point deep dive on epiphets, offerings, etc.

Herbs • Holm oak, olive tree, star anise, dandelion, almonds, pine, vervain, oak in general.

Animals• cuckoo-bird, swan, bull, satyr, eagle, wolf, woodpecker

Zodiac • Sagittarius and Pisces, maybe cancer.

Colors • Silver, blue, white, gold

Crystal• White and yellow diamonds, Lapis lazuli, Blue and yellow sapphires, turquoise, celestite, iron/steel, any quartz

Symbols• olive tree branch, throne, Lightning bolt, a crown, scepter, the Aegis

Diety of• sky and weather, the Greek gods, cities, the home, property, strangers, guests, and supplicants, law, order, justice, hospitality, Kings

Patron of• the sky and weather, men, the Greek gods, cities, the home, property, strangers, guests, and supplicants, law, order, justice

Offerings• Wine, Whiskey, Milk, Tea, Coffee, Small cakes, Breads, Red meat, Scaled fish, Fruit, Rain water, Silver, blue, white, gold candles, Figures of eagles and bulls, Symbols of a thubderbolt, The scales of justice, Crowns, Statues of Himself, eagles, or thunderbolts, Cinnamon, Laurel, Art or pictures of eagles and bulls, Eagle and bull plushies/toys, Oak, Pine, Toy crowns, Imagery of thunderbolts (ex- art, keychains, pictures, toys), Photographs or art of storms, Golden oobjects, Blue, white, or gold flowers, Assignments you got good grades on anything you are proud of (ex-art, writings, a dance you made or perfected, your songs, your favorite toy that you’ve taken care of for years.), the fat on the bones of the animals, a scepter, throne photos &, etc, fruit juice, rainwater, wedding rings, White wine, medals, hammers, acorns, cotton balls, coins.

Devotional• Check the weather for the day, Learn to recognize the different kinds of clouds, Speak out if you see an injustice (do not speak over those actually receiving the injustice), Dance in the rain, Examine ideas on fatherhood, examine how any paternal influence you received may have impacted your life, your parents for the good parenting you received, Listen to storms and bask in their glory (whether its a real storm or you’re just listening to a recording of one), Learn to appreciate different kinds of weather, learn the property lines of your house, Take care of yourself, Learn a little more about politics and the current political state of your country, fight for what you believe in (only if it is not harming others), Help sort out a conflict or an argument, Also learn about your country’s legal system, Be hospitable, Take leadership in a project that you’re doing, Destigmatize sex work and homelessness, Practice divination, Learn about your local hawks/eagles/birds of prey, learn ornithomancy (divination from the flight of birds), study meteorology and climate change, study local and national politics, practice good citizenship, vote, volunteer to register voters, support issues and candidates, collect rainwater, support your family, help your grandparents, help people move, donate to charity & homeless centers, worship his family in his honor, singing his praises (he likes being complimented)

Ephithets• ABRETTE′NUS/Abrettênos-surname of Zeus in Mysia, ACRAEUS/Akraios-given to various goddesses and gods whose temples were situated upon hills, AEGIDU′CHOS/AEGI′OCHOS/Aigidouchos/Aigiochos- surname of Zeus, as the bearer of the Aegis when he strikes terror into the impious and his enemies, but also a surname of Zeus being fed by a goat, AENE′IUS/AENE′SIUS/Ainêios/Ainêsios- surname of Zeus when he was worshipped in the island of Cephalenia, AE′THIOPS/Aithiops-the Glowing or the Black, AETNAEUS/Aitnaios -an epithet given to several devine beings connected with Mount Aetna, AGAMEMNON/Agamemnôn- A surname of Zeus, under when he was worshipped at Sparta, AGATHODAEMON/Agathodaimôn/Agathos Deos-Good God, when Greeks drank a cup of unmixed wine at the end of every repast, AGE′TOR/Agêtôr- surname given to several gods, AGO′NIUS/Agônios- a surname or epithet of several gods used in the sense of helpers in struggles and contests, AGORAEUS/AGORAEA/Agoraia/Agoraios-epithets given to several divinities who were considered as the protectors of the people in agora, ALASTOR/Alastôr- surname of Zeus, describing him as the avenger of evil deeds, ALEXI′CACUS/Alexikakos- the averter of evil, AMBU′LIU/AMBU′LIA/AMBU′LII/Amboulia/Amboulioi/Amboulios- surnames when the Spartans worshipped Athena, the Dioscuri, and Zeus, APE′MIUS/Apêmios- a surname of Zeus when he had an altar on mount Parnes in Attica where sacrifices were offered to him, APESA′NTIUS/Apesantios- when zeus had a temple on mount Apesas near Nemea, where Perseus was said to have first offered sacrifices to him, APOMYIUS/Apomuios- driving away the flies, AREIUS/Areios- either the warlike or the propitiating and atoning god, ASBAMAEUS/Asbamaios- protector of the sanctity of oaths, A′SIUS/Asios- surname of Zeus, from the town of Asos or Oasos in Crete, ATABY′RIUS/Ataburios- surname of Zeus derived from mount Atabyris or Atabyrion in the island of Rhodes, ATHO′US/Athôos - a surname of Zeus, derived from mount Athos, CA′RIUS/Karios-where he had a temple at Mylassa in Caria, CA′SIUS/Kasios-surname of Zeus, derived from amount Casion not far from Pelusium, CATAE′BATES/Kataibatês-who descends in thunder and lightning, CATHA′RSIUS/Katharsios- the purifyer or atoner, CENAEUS/Kênaios- derived from cape Cenaeum in Euboea, CHRYSAOR/Chrusaôr- The god with the golden sword or arms, CLA′RIUS/Klarios- the god who distributes things by lot, CO′NIUS/Konios- the god who excites or makes dust, CORYPHAEUS/CORYPHAEA/Koruphaia -the highest or supreme god, and is, CROCE′ATAS/Krokeatas- derived from Croceae, near Gythium in Laconia, CRO′NIDES/CRONI′ON/Kronidês/Kroniôn- a patronymic from Cronus, and very commonly given to Zeus, the son of Cronus, CTE′SIUS/Ktêsios - the protector of property, DICTAEUS/Diktaios- derived from mount Dicte in the eastern part of Crete, ELEUTHEREUS/Eleuthereus- used in the sense of the deliverer, and occurs also as the surname of Zeus, EVA′NEMUS/Euanemos- the giver of favourable wind,

GAME′LII/Gamêlioi theoi- divinities protecting and presiding over marriage, GENETAEUS/Genêtaios- derived from Cape Genetus on the Euxine, HETAEREIUS/Hetaireios - the protector of companies or associations of friends, HOMAGY′RIUS/Homagurios- god of the assembly or league, HO′RCIUS/Horkios- the god who watches over oaths, or is invoked in oaths, and punishes their violation, HYES/Huês- the moist or fertilising god, HYE′TIUS/HYES/HY′PATUS/Hupatos-the most high, ITHOMATAS/Ithômatas- derived from the Messenian hill of Ithome, LABRANDEUS/Labrandeus derived from a temple he had at Labranda, LAPE′RSIUS/Lapersios- derived from the Attic demus of Lapersae, LAPHY′STIUS/Laphustios- derived either from Mount Laphystius in Boeotia, or from the verb laphussein, to flee, in reference to the human sacrifices which were offered to him in early time, LARISSAEUS/Larissaios- derived from the arx Larissa at Argos, LECHEA′TES/Lecheatês- the protector of childbed, LEUCAEUS/Leukaios- when he was worshipped at Lepreus, in Elis, LIMENO′SCOPUS/LIME′NIA/LIMENI′TES:LIMENI′TIS/Limenia, Limenitês/Limenitis, Limenodkopos- the protector or superintendent of the harbour, LYCAEUS/Lukaios- a surname of certain divinities worshipped on mount Lycaeum in Arcadia, MAEMACTES/Maimaktês- the stormy, MECHANEUS/Mêchaneus- skilled in inventing, MEILI′CHIUS/Meilichios-the god that can be propitiated, or the gracious, MESSAPEUS/Messapeus- derived when he had a sanctuary between Amyclae and mount Taygetusm, MO′RIUS/Morios- the protector of the sacred olive trees, NEMEIUS/Nemeios- when he had a sanctuary at Argos, with a bronze statue, the work of Lysippus, and where games were celebrated in his honour, NOMOS/Nomos-a personification of law, OGO′A/Ogôa- the Carian name of Zeus at Mysala, when he had a temple where a sea-wave was seen from time to time, OLY′MPIUS/Olumpios- the Olympian, occurs as a surname of Zeus and in general of all the gods that were believed to live in Olympus, O′MBRIUS/Ombrios- the rain-giver, PANHELLE′NIUS/Panellênios- the god common to, or worshipped by all the Hellenes or Greeks,, PARNE′THIUS/Parnêthios- derived from Mount Parnes in Attica, PATROUS/PATROA/Patrôios/Patrôia- all the gods whose worship has been handed down in a nation or a family from the time of their fathers, whence in some instances they are the spirits of departed ancestors themselves, PHY′XIUS/Phuzios ex- the god who protects fugitives, PI′STIUS/Pistios- the god of faith and fidelity, POLIEUS/Polieus- the protector of the city, SOTER/Sôtêr- the Saviour, STHE′NIUS/Sthenios- the powerful & the strengthening, XENIUS/XE′NIA/Xenia- masculine Xenios are epithets of Athena and Zeus, as presiding over the laws of hospitality, and protecting strangers,

ZYGIUS/ZYGIA/Zugia/Zugios- surnames of Hera and Zeus, and as them as presiding over marriage, Ομβριος/Ombrios- Of the Rain, Ὑετιος/Hyetios- Of the Rain, Αφεσιος/Aphesios- Releasing (Rain), Σκοτιτας/Skotitas- Dark, Murky, Κεραυνιος/Keraunios-Of the Thunderbolt,!Αστραπαιος/Astrapaios-Of the Lightning, Καταιβατης/Kataibatês-Descending, Λαβρανδευς/Labrandeus-Furious, Raging, Ικμαιος/Ikmaios-Of Moisture, Κονιος/Konios-Of the Dust, Μαιμακτης/Maimaktês-Boisterous, Ευηνεμος/Euênemos-Of Fair Winds, Λιμενοσκοπος/Limenoskopos-Watcher of Sea-Havens, Βασιλευς/Basileus-King, Chief, Ruler, Ὑπατος/Hypatos-Supreme, Most High, Ὑπσιστος/Hypsisto-Supreme, Most High,

Κορυφαιος/Koryphaios-Chief, Leader, Κτησιος/Ktêsios-Of the House, Property,Ἑρκειος/Herkeios-Of the Courtyard, Βουλαιος/Boulaios-Of the Council, Αμβουλιος/Amboulios-Counsellor, Τελειος/Teleios-Of Marriage Rites, Μοιραγετης/Moiragetês-Leader of the, Fates, Κλαριος/Klarios-Of the Lots, Σημαλεος/Sêmaleos-Giver of Signs, Μηχανευς/Mêkhaneus-Contriver, Κοσμητης/Kosmêtês-Orderer, Θεος Αγαθος/Theos Agathos-The Good God,

Επιδωτης/Epidôtês-Giver of Good, Πλουσιος/Plousios-Of Wealth, Φιλιος/Philios-Of Friendship, Ξενιος/Xenios-Of Hospitality, Strangers, Ἱκεσιος/Hikesios-Of Suppliants, Φυξιος/Phyxios-Of Refuge,

Παλαμναιος/Palamnaios-(Punisher) of Murderers, Καθαρσιος/Katharsios-Of Ritual Purification, Προστροπαιος, Prostropaios-Turner of Pollution, Απημιος/Apêmios-Averter of Ills, Σωτηρ/Sôtêr-Saviour, Deliverer, Μειλιχιος/Meilikhios-Gracious, Merciful, Πανελληνιος/Panellênios-Of All the Greeks, Λαοιτης/Laoitês-Of the People, Πολειυς/Poleius-Of the City-State, Σωσιπολις/Sôsipolis-City-Saviour, Ελευθεριος/Eleutherios-Of Freedom, Χρυσαορευς/Khrysaoreus-Of the Golden Sword, Στρατιος/Stratios-Of War, Warlike, Αρειος/Areios-Of War, Warlike,

Σθενιος/Sthenios-Of Strength, Strong,

Τροπαιος/Tropaios-Turns to Flight, Defeats, Φυξιος/Phyxios-Puts to Flight, Banishes, Ὑμηττιος/Hymêttios-Of Mt Hymettus (Attica), Παρνηθιος/Parnêthios-Of Mt Parnes (Attica), Ανχεσμιος/Ankhesmios-Of Mt Anchesmus (Attica),

Απεσαντιος/Apesantios-Of Mt Apesas (Argolis),Λαρισαιος/Larisaios-Of Larisa (Argos acropolis), Νεμειος/Nemeios-Of Nemea (Argolis), Κροκεατος/Krokeatos-Of Croceae (Laconia), Ιθωματος/Ithômatos-Of Mt Ithome (Messenia), Ολυμπιος/Olympios-Of Olympia (in Elis), Λυκαιος/Lykaios-Of Mt Lycaeus (Arcadia), Κιθαιρωνιος/Kithairônios-Of Mt Cithaeron (Boeotia), Λαφυστιος/Laphystios-Of Mt Laphystius (Boeotia), Κηναιος/Kênaios-Of Cape Cenaeus (Euboea), Ολυμπιος/Olympios-Of Mt Olympus (Thessaly), Δωδωναιος/Dôdônaios-Of Dodona (Thesprotia), Αινησιος/Ainêsios-Of Mt Aenus (Cephallenia), Πελασγιος/Pelasgios-Of the Pelasgians (Tribe), Πελασγικος/Pelasgikos-Of the Pelasgians (Tribe), Δικταιος/Diktaios-Of Mt Dicte (Crete), Αταβυριος/Atabyrios-Of Mt Atabyris (Rhodes), Καριος/Karios-Of Caria, Λαβρανδευς/Labrandeus-Of Labranda (Caria), Λαβραυνδηνος/Labraundênos-Of Labranda (Caria), Καπετωλιον/Kapetôlion-Of the Capitol (Rome), Βουλαιος/Boulaios-Of the Council-Hall, Αγοραιος/Agoraios-Of the Market-Place, Σκοτιτας/Skotitas-Of the Dark (Oak-Forest), Λευκαιος/Leukaios-Of the White-Poplar Grove, Λυκαιος/Lykaios-Of the Wolves, Απομυιος/Apomyios-Averter of Flies, Λεχεατης/Lekheatês-Of the Childbed, Κλαριος/Klarios-Of the Lots, Τελειος/Teleios-Full-Grown, Αρισταιος/Aristaios-Of Aristaeus (hero Ceos), Μεσσαπευς/Messapeus-Of Messapeus (hero Sparta).

Equivalents• Jupiter (Roman), Rigyeda (Hindu), Di Pater (Oscan), Ioues Patres (Marrucinian), Iupitar (Umbrian), Tina (Etruscan), Mitra / Varuna (Vedic, probably syncretized), Mithra (Old Persian), Dei-Patrous (Illyrian), Dyaus Pitar (Indian), Debess Tevs (Latvian), Attas Isanus (Hittite), Dievas (Baltic), Tatis Tiwaiz (Luvian), Papaeus (Scythian), Thor (Norse), Odin (Norse)

Signs their reaching out• Sudden signs of his animals, his statues, art of him, his mythos, a sudden pull to him.

Vows/omans• His wedding vows.

Morals• Morally dark.

Courting• Hera/Juno, they are married.

Past lovers/crushes• I couldn’t find all of them, and please cut me some slack, but some are, Semele, Demeter, Europa, Eurynome, Métis, Callisto, Leto, Mnemosyne, Thaleia, Themis, Electra, Leda, Aegina, Alcmene, Ganymede, Persephone, Dione, Maia, Metis, Nemesis, AIX, Alkmene.

Personality• I heard he is funny, mercifully, calm and collected, and obviously father like.

Home• Mount Olympus.

Mortal or immortal • Immortal

Fact• He led a rebellion with all the Olympians except Dionysus because he wasn’t born yet, against his own father, and won.

Curses• bad flying conditions, storms, lightning, thunder, justice, Eagle poop all over your car, marriage issues

Blessings• good flying conditions, good storms, good lightning, good thunder, having justice, help in creating an eternal fire, no marriage issues, help in legal matters

Roots• Crete, raised by the nymphs Adrasteia and Ida, daughters of Melisseus, nursing Zeus, with the milk from the goat Amalthea, given to them by his mother Rhea.

Parentage• Rhea and Cronus

Siblings• Hestia, Hades, Hera, Poseidon, Demeter, and Chiron.

Attendees• Kratos (Strength), Zelos (Rivalry), Nike (Victory) and Bia (Force), he is often seen with Hermes, his high councilor is Themis, Hestia in hall, and Metis in his stomach (the Greeks thought the stomach held knowledge, and wisdom) or mind, Harpies and Hebe and Ganymede

Pet• A golden eagle named Aetos Dios

Children •AGDISTIS (born when Zeus accidentally impregnated Gaia the Earth),AIGIPAN/Aegipan (son of Zeus and Aix or Boetis), ALATHEIA (daughter of Zeus)APHRODITE (daughter of Zeus and the Titaness Dione, most say she was born in the sea from the severed genitals of Ouranos), APOLLON/Apollo (son of Zeus and the Titaness Leto)

ARES (son of Zeus and his wife Hera.),

ARTEMIS (daughter of Zeus and the Titaness Leto), ASOPOS/Asopus (son of Zeus and Eurynome, however most call him a son of Okeanos and Tethys), ATE (daughter of Zeus, others say she was born fatherless to Eris), ATHENE/Athena (Titaness Metis and Zeus),

BRITOMARTIS (daughter of Zeus and the Nymphe Karme), DIONYSOS/Dionysus (son of Zeus and Semele or of Zeus and Demeter or Dione), EILEITHYIA (daughter of Zeus and Hera), EIRENE/Irene (daughter of Zeus and the Titaness Themis), ERIS (daughter of Zeus and Hera, most say she was a daughter of Nyx), ERSA (daughter of Zeus and the Titaness Selene),

EUNOMIA (daughter of Zeus and the Titaness Themis), HARMONIA (Zeus and the Pleiad Elektra, usually a daughter of Ares and Aphrodite who was only fostered by the Pleiad), HEBE (daughter of Zeus and Hera), HEPHAISTOS/Hephaestus (son of Zeus and Hera, though many say Hera conceived him without the assistance of Zeus), HERMES (son of Zeus and the Pleiad Maia), HORAI/Horae (Dike, Eirene, and Eunomia--were daughters of Zeus and the Titaness Themis), KABEIROI/Cabeiri (sons of Zeus and the Mousa Kalliope, but call them sons of Hephaistos and Kabeiro), KAIROS/Caerus (youngest divine son of Zeus.), KENTAUROI KYRPIOI/Cyprian (sprang from Gaia the Earth when Zeus accidentally impregnated his failed attempt to make love to Aphrodite),

KHARITES/Charites (Aglaia, Euphrosyne and Thaleia are daughters of Zeus and the Titaness Eurynome), KORYBANTES SAMOTHRAKIOI/Samothracian Corybantes (sons of Zeus and the Mousa Kalliope), LITAI/Litae (elderly goddesses of prayer were daughters of Zeus),

MELINOE (She as a daughter of Zeus and Persephone), MOIRAI/Moirae (Atropos, Lakhesis and Klotho, who are daughters of Zeus and the Titaness Themis, others say they were daughters of Nyx, Ananke or Khaos), MOUSAI/Muses (Kalliope, Terpsikhore, Kleio, Euterpe, Ourania, Thaleia, Polyhymnia, Melpomene, Erato, were daughters of Zeus and the Titaness Mnemosyne), NEMEA (minor goddess-nymph, daughter of Zeus and the Titaness Selene), NYMPHAI/Nymphs (Nymphs in general were sometimes called the daughters of Zeus), NYMPHAI THEMEIDES (Three goddess-nymph daughters of Zeus and the Titaness Themis), PALIKOI/Palici (Twin gods of Zeus and Thaleia, but others say they were sons of Hephaistos and Aitna), PAN (son of Zeus and Hybris but others invariably call him a son of Hermes), PANDEIA (devine daughter of Zeus and the Titaness Selene), PERSEPHONE (Devine daughter of Zeus and Demeter or, according to one account, of Zeus and Styx), PHASIS (devine son of Zeus, other say he was a son of Okeanos and Tethys like the other Rivers), ZAGREUS (divine son of Zeus and his own daughter Persephone),

AIAKOS/Aeacus (son of Zeus and the Nymphe Aigina), AITHLIOS/Aethlius (son of Zeus and either Protogeneia or Kalyke),

AKHEILOS/Acheilus (son of Zeus and Lamia), ALEXANDROS/Alexander the Great (son of Zeus born to the Makedonian Queen Olympia), AMPHION (He was a twin son of Zeus and Antiope),

ARGOS/Argus (He was a son of Zeus and Niobe.), ARKAS/Arcas (son of Zeus and Kallisto.), ARKEISIOS/Arceisius (son of Zeus, or according to others, of Kephalos and Prokris), ATYMNIOS/Atymnius (He was a son of Zeus and Kassiopeia),

DARDANOS/Dardanus (He was a son of Zeus and Elektra), DIOSKOUROI/Dioscuri (Twin princes of who were hatched from an egg laid by Queen Leda. Polydeukes, was fathered by Zeus, but the other, Kastor, was the son of Leda's husband Tyndareus), EMATHION (son of Zeus and Elektra), ENDYMION (He was the son of Kalyke, either by Zeus or her husband Aithlios), EPAPHOS/Epaphus (son of Zeus and the much-suffering Io), GRAIKOS/Graecus (son of Zeus and Thyia), HELENE/Helen(daughter of Zeus by Leda or the goddess Nemesis), HELLEN (son of Zeus and Pyrrha, though others say his father was Pyrrha's husband Deukalion),

HERAKLES/Heracles (1) (Alkmene who was seduced by Zeus in the form of her own husband.), HERAKLES/Heracles (2) (A son of Zeus and Lysithoe), HEROPHILE (daughter of Zeus and the Libyan queen Lamia), IARBAS (Zeus and an African Nymphe), IASION A prince of the Island of Samothrake (son of Zeus and Elektra),

KEROESSA/Ceroessa (daughter of Zeus and Io), KOLAXES/Colaxes) (son of Zeus and the Nymphe Hora), KORINTHOS/Corinthus (He was a son of Zeus but, according to others, of Epopeus), KRINAKOS/Crinacus (He was a son of Zeus.), KRONIOS/Cronius (Zeus and the Nymphe Himalia.), KYTOS/Cytus (Zeus and the Nymphe Himalia), LAKEDAIMON/Lacedaemon (son of Zeus and the Pleiad Taygete.), LATINOS/Latinus (son of Zeus and Pandora.), MAGNES son of Zeus and Thyia but some say he was the son to Aiolos and Enarete), MAKEDON/Macedon (He was a son of Zeus and Thyia), MANES (a son of Zeus and Gaia), MEGAROS/Megarus (son of Zeus and a Sithnid Nymphe), MELITEUS (He was a son of Zeus and Othris), MINOS (He was a son of Zeus and Europa.), MYRMIDON (He was a son of Zeus and Eurymedousa.), ORION (He was conceived by three gods--Zeus, Hermes and Poseidon--who urinated upon a bull's hide and buried it in the earth, to grow an earth-born infant), PELASGOS/Pelasgus (He was a son of Zeus and Niobe, but others calls him a son of Poseidon and Larissa or an Autokhthon),

PEIRITHOUS/Pirithous (son of Zeus and Dia, most authors say the father was Dia's husband King Ixion), PERSEUS (son of Zeus and Danae), POLYDEUKES/Polydeuces (his twin brother were known as the Dioskouroi, the son of Zeus and Leda, while his twin brother was the son of Leda's husband Tyndareus), RHADAMANTHYS (a son of Zeus and Europa), SAON (he was the son of Zeus and a local Nymphe, but others say he was a son of Hermes and Rhene),

SARPEDON (1) (He was a son of Zeus and Europa.), SARPEDON (2) (He was a son of Zeus and Laodameia), SPARTAIOS/Spartaeus (one of three sons borne to Zeus and the Nymphe Himalia), TANTALOS/Tantalus (son of Zeus and the Okeanis Plouto), TARGITAUS (son of Zeus and a daughter of Borysthenes),

TITYOS/Tityus (a son of Zeus and Elare others say he was a fatherless son of Gaia the Earth), ZETHOS/Zethus (He was the twin brother of Amphion and a son of Zeus and Antiope.)

Appearance in astral or gen• regal, mature man with a sturdy figure and dark beard.

Festivals • Diasia, Epulum Jovis, Hetairideia, Lykaia

Day • Tuesday

Status• Greek major god, as the king of all gods, part of the Big three.

Planet• Jupiter

Tarot cards• the Emperor, Justice, Wheel of Fortune, King of Swords, King of Wands

Reminds me of• Vapes (my dad vapes), cloaks, marriages, and Dad jokes.

Scents/Inscene • Frankincense, myrrh, or rain sceneted incense, Vervain, Sage

Prayers•

To attract more eagles

Zeus, king of the Theoi, god of the sky, father of gods and men, Zeus, the one that holds sacred the sharp-sighted eagle and far-flying hawk, I come humbly before you with a single request. I ask for the friendship of your cherished eagle and hawk, The symbols of your power and grace, Gentle reminders of your ever-watchful presence and protection. I shall revere them as I do you. Great Zeus, Father Zeus, I thank you for this newfound friendship.

In general

Father Zeus, protector of the weak, help me to be strong against my fears. Father Zeus, protector of the wronged, help me to do right by all I meet. Father Zeus, protector of the home, help me to safeguard those within my walls. Father Zeus, help me to do what I must, be with me as I walk in the world.

Links/websites/sources •

https://www.britannica.com/topic/Zeus https://www.theoi.com/Olympios/Zeus.htmlhttps://www.theoi.com/Olympios/ZeusFamily.html https://www.britannica.com/topic/Zeushttps://www.theoi.com/Olympios/ZeusFamily.htmlhttps://twelfthremedy.tumblr.com/post/626464048642408448/zeus-offerings/amp https://star-of-zeus.tumblr.com https://star-of-zeus.tumblr.com/post/638693970789138432/zeus-devotional-actshttps://star-of-zeus.tumblr.com/post/638790200476221440/tuesday-is-zeus-day https://star-of-zeus.tumblr.com/post/638790200476221440/tuesday-is-zeus-day https://star-of-zeus.tumblr.com/post/650165209920651264/acknowledge-the-duality-of-the-godshttps://honorthegods.tumblr.com/post/159458931171/what-offerings-would-you-recommend-for-zeus-and/amp https://www.theoi.com/articles/where-was-zeus-born/#:~:text=Greek%20mythology%20states%20that%20Crete,significant%20deity%20in%20ancient%20Greece.https://www.quora.com/What-are-the-equivalents-to-Zeus-in-other-god-mythologies https://www.quora.com/What-are-the-equivalents-to-Zeus-in-other-god-mythologieshttps://mythopedia.com/topics/zeushttps://www.desy.de/gna/interpedia/greek_myth/creation.html#:~:text=When%20it%20came%20time%20to,a%20handsome%20youth%20on%20Crete.https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ida_(nurse_of_Zeus)#:~:text=According%20to%20Apollodorus%2C%20Rhea%20gave,were%20the%20daughters%20of%20Melisseus%22.https://www.quora.com/What-are-the-equivalents-to-Zeus-in-other-god-mythologieshttps://www.havefunwithhistory.com/facts-about-zeus/https://www.tumblr.com/alder-bos/669862051714318336/deities-and-their-tarot-cards-long-post https://star-of-zeus.tumblr.com/post/640511172666392576/prayer-to-zeus-for-hawkeagle-friends diana-thyme

Zeus is the Greek god of weather and many things, you may see him as a ‘Cheater’, but in many cases, the people who claimed to stem from Zeus were just fatherless people, wanting to claim fame for their bloodline. He is a kind a merciful God, as long as you don't speak unwell or lies.

This deep dive is a payment to my friend Bri @briislame, May you look up and find Zeus looking down with smiles.

36 notes · View notes

tiramisublues · 4 months

Note

May I request for close-up screenshots of P with his long, white hair and in the white lady suit when he is picking fruit at the gold coin tree? I think the lighting there is incredible (I think, maybe). I'm sad we can't zoom-in D:

Hello there! ♡

I tried taking a snap as he grab the fruit but the camera pans quickly and it's little difficult for me to navigate afterwards for me to take a snap 〒.〒 so i ended up taking a photo of him under the tree where the lighting is pretty much decent ♡

Of course, a little compensation for not taking the specific request, i added good bonus shots for you ♡ (one's little grainy for some reason).

Hope you're gonna love them! ♡

#lies of p #lop #pinocchio #my screenshots #requests

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ashes8338 · 8 months

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Okay okay, Lies of P details part 4 The Final Chapter

Working off what I said in the last post, the less human he is the less vocal he is when exerting himself so instead of his voice you hear gears click and springs wind. The cat interactions changing the more human he becomes, he loves that cat and he just wants to pet it and I can relate to that so much. How clear it is everybody cares so much for P by the end, it really feels like they’ve become a big family and they’re all worried for him and what’s to come. The gold coin fruit tree is human shaped, you can see the figure of a human underneath all the bark, roots, and leaves. It’s like the tree grew around a statue or somebody got turned into the tree itself. Almost every lit window you walk past in the city has a different audio to it. The way Geppetto puts his hands on P’s shoulders when you first find him. The way they explain how P comes back after he dies is that Sophia is turning back time to save him, makes me think of all the alt time lines where I got absolutely slaughtered by that mad clown puppet. The way that the Pandemonium arm looks partially organic. After the attack on the hotel the atmosphere does a comeplete tonal shift, from safe, warm and welcoming to sad, cold and foreboding. The heart messages changing from ‘your springs are reacting’ to ‘the ergo whispers’, ‘you feel warmth’ and finally ‘your heart pounds’, cannot explain it, but it hits hard. Listening to music making you more human, which in turn effects how P himself plays the piano

And lastly a person note: how much everybody in the fandom loves Pinocchio and Sophia. Whether it be platonically or romantically (I would kiss both of them personally), I think we can all agree they deserve the universe and nothing less

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

#I finally beat the last boss today and I’m in fucking shambles if you can’t tell #lies of p #lies of p spoilers

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seoness · 2 years

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(18+) More Than Our Servitude - Part II

NSFW | (TV!) Sandor Clegane x Fem!Reader | Requested | Oneshot turned Multi-Part

Trigger warning: Canon-typical violence, sexism, the implied threat of sexual assault, the reader becomes a victim of physical assault. The reader is wounded: cuts. Contains explicit scenes of sexual nature.

Summary: Your journey with the Hound continues. It doesn't matter how fast Stranger takes the both of you. The Hound cannot outride his past. Emotions reach a peak after a dangerous encounter, and you do not escape unscathed.

Author's Note: I've taken some liberties with the canon material, but nothing that changes the plot line of the show or established canon from either source material. Spending time with the Hound should make you able to get to know him better, right? ☺️

It looked wrong. After days of riding past deserted farms, standing like blackened skeletons with their fields scorched, the small village in the middle of the forest felt like a dream.

"Trust me."

Clegane shifted in the saddle. "Not happening."

"You are the famed Hound. People would recognize you. Me? I could be anyone, just a wanderer."

"Think it normal for lone women to travel the countryside?" he countered.

"More so with the Riverlands burning," you answered and looked up at the face locked in a scowl. "I can do this. We need to eat."

Clegane nodded towards the village. "None in there would dare bother you if I'm with. We'll be far gone when someone finds out there's gold on our heads."

"Your head," you corrected. "Isn't it better if we don't leave any trail, be a needle in a haystack?"

The hand at the small of your back made your heart race. How of all things was this what finally-

"Wait!"

A push, gentle yet firm.

Sliding down, Stranger whinnied out as your feet hit the ground.

"Get then," Clegane spat. "Grown tired of your bickering. Would serve me right to take off while you're gone and be rid of you."

You had already begun to unfasten the empty satchel, shaking out the crumbs left by the rations, and fished out the leather pouch with his coin from the saddlebag.

"Then you would be hungry, penniless, and alone," you replied. "If you wish I could remain silent from now on."

Clegane's mouth twitched, pressing to a thin line, and for a brief moment, something else flickered in those angry eyes of his. With a last smile and a curtsy, you turned on your heel and began the walk down the hill, counting his silver.

There were necessities: salt, hard biscuits, and hopefully cured meat. Perhaps the tavern even had a cheap warm meal, it wouldn't serve well as a ration, but tonight it would do both of you good. Looking out over the village, fruit trees dotted its surroundings. Plums, apples, and pears. In one of the fields grew bundles of green turnips. Those usually were cheap. Roasted with some herbs, salt, and butter, even the Hound wouldn't be kept frowning. Wine, you couldn't forget the wine.

The soft thuds of hooves against dirt made you peer back. Clegane didn't offer you as much as a glance, his dark eyes fixed on the tavern. Keeping to silence, you only squinted up at the man.

"Don't trust it," Clegane pushed through gritted teeth.

Freshly baked bread, mulled wine, and hot cider. All pleasant scents one could expect from a tavern, even unpleasant ones of vomit and urine wouldn't have made you frown as Clegane pushed the door open. It wasn't wholly unfamiliar. Thick and musky, the scent of bodies in heat was soon joined by its sounds.

The stalls that ran along the walls of the tavern had been fitted with drapes. Moany breaths and pleads left those closed, while women laid on the seats of the ones still open, watching you both, their dresses nothing more than loosly draped cloth tied with string at their waists.

A plump older woman stood by the bar, her breasts barely fitting in the bodice and when her eyes landed on you the smile on her lips grew a bit warmer.

"Looking for a night's stay?" she asked.

"Food," Clegane only said and signed for you to step forward.

"I-I thought this was a tavern," you stammered.

"Oh it was, love, but it is what it is," she replied, shrugging. "Better to entertain soldiers this way than for them to think of a way themselves, no? Their games can be rather harsh. So what shall you and your husband have? Got some pie, no meat I'm afraid, but it'll get you filled up."

You glanced up at Clegane but he gave no tell of approval.

"He's not my husband."

"A contender?" the woman giggled.

"None of your concern," Clegane rasped and the smile on the inkeeper's face grew tense.

"He's helping me travel to Highgarden, I have family there." And hopefully that lie would send any persuers in the wrong direction.

"Where you travelling from?" she asked.

"Riverrun," you said, continuing the lie.

"The lions taken it?"

"I don't know, didn't stay there long enough to find out," you replied and looked to your feet.

Had it already been taken? It wasn't like washerwomen were invited to the war table and you didn't have a great many places to pick from. You knew every street of King's Landing and which areas of Flea Bottom were the safest to walk. Outside that, was a world you'd only heard in passing. Seats belonging to one lord or the other.

"You a King's man?" the innkeeper asked but Clegane kept silent, still stewing in his anger but her smile didn't waver. "Those that serve the good of the realm have our girls for free."

With a whistle, one of the women left the open stalls, the dress undone, bundling at her waist and the bare skin oiled. You fixed your eyes on the satchel filled with food as she jumped up on the counter to sit.

He wasn't your husband. Made no promises, sworn no vow. You knew he had visited brothels in King's Landing, Clegane never boasted of it, but you knew it just as you knew that almost every man did. One thing to know it and another to see it.

"I'll go and water the horse," you mumbled, emptying the coinpurse and darting out with your rations.

What would even the protest be? Don't? Because you're there? Because you wanted him to come to you instead? When he became Kingsguard, you had hoped. He would have been far from the first that went to a washerwoman for comfort, but the man never came and you never saw the women he went to instead. It left room. Room for your fantasies to make the world something it wasn't, make you the woman in one of the winesinks he tapped on the shoulder.

Stranger stood tethered by a wooden post, but this time the black stallion didn't whinny out as you came close.

"Would serve me right to take off and be rid of him while he's gone," you said and rolled your eyes.

Even if that had been a plan, Stranger was a warhorse and you had heard the talk of stablehands. They weren't trained to be pleasant and amicable like a palfrey. The only ones that could safely ride them were their masters, not even all squires could take to their knight's horse.

"She was very lovely," you said and fastened the satchel. "Bet she can make him in a good mood."

As the tears started to well, you hit your head against the side of the saddle making Stranger stomp down.

"Could you let me pity myself for a moment please?" you whispered.

The door to the tavern struck open and you didn't even need to turn to know it was the Hound. He was quick at least. For the first time your heart didn't race as his hands caught your waist and hoisted you up in the saddle.

"Never been in a whorehouse before?" he asked, you only shook your head in response. "Not too grown for a silent treatment?"

"You were tired of my bickering."

Clegane swung up behind you, snorting. "True. Left to me to make a new plan then."

You twisted in the saddle, "We had a plan?"

"Thought going east would be good, doubt they've heard about any Clegane there. Gold to be had in being a sellsword," he replied and grimaced. "Slavers. The eastern shore is full with them, ain't taking you there."

"How is that any different from bands of broken men?"

"It's different," Clegane said but as the village started to grow distant behind you he continued, "A broken man fights to stay alive. Killing, theft, some turn rapers. A bandit with better arms."

"How is that different from slavers?"

"Smarter. Already forgotten the Greyjoy Rebellion?" he asked.

Waiting for Stranger to bob down his head, you kicked over your leg, so your side was to him. It was rare for him to be this talkative. If the woman in the tavern had gotten his warmth, you'd at least savor the rest.

"You fought in it?"

It earned you another snort. "Gregor fought in it, I guarded. Kept to the shores of the Westerlands dealing with raiders," he said and his eyes looked to the road ahead, beyond it and his voice grew distant. "Sure, they'd kill a few men, torch some houses but they'd scurry off the moment one came riding. For every man killed, twice the number of women and children were taken."

"The Ironborn took slaves?"

"Aye, but they didn't keep all of them. Some they gave to their Drowned God." Clegane returned to you, the dark eyes meeting yours. "Tyroshi wouldn't sacrifice you to the waves."

"If any of them win, the Lannisters, the Baratheons or the Stark? Would any pardon you?" you asked.

"Fat chance of that. The King in the North might send me to the Wall if he's anything like his Lord Father. At least that one would take my head himself."

"No slaver is taking me and no King in the North is taking your head," you spat and Clegane cocked his brow. "What?"

"First time I hear you growling," he said.

The camp for the night was made by a small brook, birch trees rising high around the meadow. The sky had gone purple. It was a luxury to be able to roll out your bedroll before dusk was claimed by night. Watching as the water in the kettle came to a boil, you pulled it off the fire. The rabbit, skinned and gutted, sizzled on its spit, and the turnips had been buried into the earth by the edge of the campfire, baking away.

"I'm not making poison," you swore as the Hound's eyes fell on you, steeping birch leaves into the water, "it's good for you."

"A cunning woman now too?" he asked.

"It's just what I've been told, I've drunken it myself so I know it won't kill us. If you don't want to try it then there's just more wine for you to drink."

The Hound returned to sharpening his sword, running the whetstone along the blade, and when satisfied he took to his dagger.

"It's good you caught the rabbit," you said after a while.

"Leave it be."

His voice didn't sound any different, no more angry or tired than before, yet that distant gaze returned. There wasn't even any anger in his face, the scowl was there, but it was a fixture. Hollow.

"We'll figure out a plan," you tried. "I'd rather stay here in Westeros, it's not like I'd be comfertable in a land were there's slaves, regardless if I'm one of them or not."

Rising, you stepped into his view but his eyes didn't catch you. "Clegane?"

The wind made the tops of birchtrees sway, the leaves rustling and wood snapping.

Snapping?

Your gaze left the Hound, peering out amongst the trees. He had been correct, being so scrutinous of the pick of campsite. There were no shrubs, no trees thick enough for them to hide.

One after the other they appeared, eight in all. Their faces gaunt and hunger had made their clothes hang loose to their bodies.

"Clegane," you breathed but the man did not rise, he didn't as much as peer back.

Their eyes, while everything else seemed to have wilted away, what rested within the eyes of those men made every fiber within your being scream out, plead for you to run.

You were nothing more than a lamb that had wandered into a den of lions. Hadn't Clegane heard you? But he always heard you? Why couldn't he hear you?! You opened your mouth to speak, mouthing his name, yet no sound came. Steel gleamed in their hands.

"Sandor?"

A flicker of relief, he must have heard you but when your eyes darted down the Hound sat unmoving. Was this a nightmare? The dark eyes were so distant, like he was stuck somewhere far away.

They'd kill you.

They'd kill him.

You saw everything else in those eyes of theirs too, how slow your death would be. You were more than a threat. A treat. A plaything— until they'd grow bored of you.

"Dog!" the scream rang through the forest.

You stepped back as Clegane shot to his feet, breath catching in your throat as he spun around. The sword was already drawn, and the Hound's helm that had rested beside him quickly came over his head.

"Stranger. Now."

"Leaving?" one of them spun, the blond hair matted into thick clumps. "You be clad in plenty of steel."

"And that told you this was a good idea?" the Hound snorted.

"More of us than you," another spat, an ax ready in his hand.

"Who you serving?" the first man asked. "Lions?"

"Not anymore," Clegane replied, backing up until his hand caught your arm, squeezing. "Stranger. Untie him."

"A broken brother!" the first man laughed and held out his arms, but the sword was no less sharp in his grip. "Do not fret, we ain't here to judge kin! You look strong enough, why not join us? We see to our share of fun and keep each other's backs far better than some lordling twat. That's a good sword."

Silent you turned around, the stallion stood by one of the birch trees already pulling at the reigns that bound it but as you took a step towards it, a third man darted into the path. A gapped grin flashing on his face, the cheeks scarred by pox.

"You cooked that, love?" he asked, nodding to the rabbit beginning to charr by the fire, but you couldn't will yourself to answer. "Cooks and keeps her mouth shut, her cunt tight too?"

"We share in our little brotherhood. Fairness and all that," the first man said.

"I don't," the Hound replied.

"Manners," the man sighed and nodded back, the youngest among them stood with his bow knocked and drawn. "The boy's rather good with that one, been feathering birds all his life. Not so different from feathering men, ain't it so, Tip?"

"Aye," the boy Tip replied.

"I like your helm," the first man continued.

"Do I look like a fucking merchant?" the Hound growled.

"Looks like a dead man to me," another called out.

A stillness laid itself over the meadow. You didn't see what started it, but in a blink of an eye, everything happened all at once. A clang. From your right, a shadow dove in, and the man that had stood before you with his gapped grin disappeared behind the Hound. A spray of crimson shot through the air as Clegane thwarted his sword. A howl. You spun only for the shadow of the Hound to leap from your back again. The next death you saw fully, Clegane cut off the first man's hand, and the sword hit the ground with a thud, the fingers still curled around its hilt. The wail was cut short as the dagger buried into the man's eye. You watched as steel met steel until it hit the softness of flesh, sending up blades of crimson. The Hound was fighting four at once, or rather, he took great care not to. Never staying long enough in one place, his sword veining through the air, but it wasn't a desperate flailing. An arrow buried itself into his shoulder, but Clegane didn't even seem to notice. Cursing, the boy knocked his bow once more. Four became three, three became two, two became-

Four.

You began to twist, to search for the fifth, but a warmth hit your back. You opened your mouth to scream, but fingers clawed at the back of your head. The blade pressing against your throat.

"Shut your mouth," a stranger's voice hissed.

The boy no longer stood with his bow, aiming at the Hound. Taking flight amongst the birch trees. Clegane ripped the ax from the hand of one of the dead and you looked on with the last survivor of the brotherhood as it veined through the air. The boy's shriek made the dagger press even harder at your throat.

"Enough!" the roar made your ears ring.

The Hound's chest heaved, blood clinging to his brigandine. You had seen anger in his eyes before, but never like this, a wildness, a bloodthirst that could make anyone shrink

"Should have run," the Hound rasped.

"Like him? Drop your sword," the stranger said, the boy still wailing, crying for the aid of gods and his mother. "You deaf? Want the bitch to live then drop that fucking sword!"

It slipped out of his hand, and without the stranger having to make any demand the dagger followed.

"So you're not deaf. Now get on that horse of yours. If you ride hard and long enough, I might just leave her here alive."

He wouldn't. Perhaps he'd not take his time with you like his brethren, but there was no mercy in that voice, in the blade that pressed against your throat. So this was it, how you died. Dog. The last word you ever spoke to him, what you had heard echoing through the Red Keep as the King had yelled for his Hound to come. A title, only spoken in contempt or ridicule, was your final word. Not. like. this.

The pain burned bright in your hands. You couldn't see your murderer's face, just his arms, free from steel and wool. He wrung around you, cursing and roaring. The taste of metal filled your mouth. The next had no pain, just a warmth seeping down your throat. The Hound lunged, bodies clashing, and you flew to the side. One hand catching grass and the other, the still twitching leg of a dead man. Away. You just needed to get away.

The fingers trembled, red and slick. Your hands, your blood. Deep gashes ran along your palms. It couldn't have taken that long, you didn't stare at the bloody hands for an eternity before your fingertips brushed over your neck. Whimpering as the pain shot out and without thought, you pressed against your throat.

"Clegane?" your voice weak, frail, but behind you could hear grunts, a heavy thud that grew wetter and wetter, and the cracking of bone.

The world had begun to spin and the boy's cries, you could hear them again, "Mother, help me! Please, help me! MOTHER!"

Why? You would have given them food if they were hungry. It wasn't fair.

Tipping onto your side, Clegane straddled the man, his fingers had dug into the man's face and each time he brought the head up you could see the back, its shape long gone.

"Clegane?"

Another thud, another wet crack.

"MOTHER! MOTHER!"

"Sandor?" it left you nothing more than a pipe.

There they were, those dark eyes of his, a fury like no other gone in an instant, and the next, Clegane's hands were on you. Pressing at your throat.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you whispered, tears blurring your view. "I didn't mean to."

Cursing under his breath, Clegane ripped up the scarf underneath his bevor and pushed it into the hand pressing at your throat. How much time, how many words would the gods give you to make this right?

"He's dead. It's done."

"I would never have called you that. Never. But you were... it was like you couldn't hear me, I'd never... I'm sorry, please forgive me."

His brow furrowed before his free arm slipped in by your legs and the ground left beneath you. Carrying you to Stranger's saddle.

"The food," you said.

It was a ruin, the rabbit had fallen into the fire, and the kettle kicked over.

"Fuck the food," he snapped and steadied you on Stranger's back, taking your hand to where he pressed. "Keep that there. Press it down. Hard."

You offered no protest as Clegane turned around. The sword and dagger returned to his hands. The Hound ran between the trees, and the boy's cries finally stopped before he appeared again.

Worry writ across his face. It looked too close to sorrow.

"I'm sorry I called you that. I never thought of you like...," you said as he swung up in the saddle. "I'm sorry, Clegane."

"You're not going to die, so save your pardons for some other day," he replied but if that was a promise or a command, you couldn't tell.

A lone candle lit up the small chamber, the heavy scent of incense tickling your nose and the bed soft beneath you.

"Let's see if you can't lift that for me, love," the innkeeper hummed and tapped on your hand, still pressing the bloodsoaked scarf against your throat.

Reluctantly you obeyed.

"Aren't you lucky, any deeper and you'd be a goner," she said, "if you've not bled out yet, you'll not do it now."

Her hands cradled yours, sucking at her teeth. "These will give you more trouble, but better that."

Behind the woman, the Hound sat on a chest by the door, his gaze burning her back.

"The only issue will be if it festers, but I'll see if we can't make that less likely."

"No burning," the Hound's voice tensed.

"I treat my girls with honey," she replied, pulling out a jar from one of the pockets of her apron.

You bit your lip as she began to dab it along the wound of your neck before turning her attention to your hands. The innkeeper humming as she worked.

"Seeing as you said this was work of some broken men, you two can have the room for free for tonight," the woman peered back at Clegane, her hand closing at your wrist as if he was to pull her away, "and I know who you are. We're not busy tonight, no one here to bother you, but lions like to prowl here. I won't lie when they come, so the two of you best leave early. Have I made myself understood?"

Clegane only offered a nod. Rising, she brushed her hands off the apron and gave you another warm smile before handing you the jar of honey. "You should reapply it but keep some linen over the wounds, not so much that it cannot breathe but enough so you're not pestered by flies."

"Thank you," you said.

"I hope you safely reach your family in Highgarden," the woman replied and slipped out.

"It is kind of them to let us stay for free," you said as Clegane locked the door.

He stayed by it, his hand gripping the handle. It fumed out of him, filling up the room.

"You're angry," you noted, an ache forming in your chest. "I should never have called you that."

Clegane snorted, and the bed creaked as he sat by its end, peering back over his shoulder.

"Think that's what troubles me?" His gaze stayed on you, wandering down to the hands laying at your sides. "Good work I've done, keeping you safe."

"I'm alive."

"Barely," Clegane replied and looked ahead, starting to unbuckle his pauldrons.

The brigandine slid off his body and the mail followed until he only sat in his undertunic. There was no red stain where the arrow had hit, the layers of steel had kept it from his body.

"Eight, you faced eight men alone and lived. How many can attest to such a thing?" you tried.

"There's no glory in killing rats. They had no armor and barely enough strength to swing their blades," he said and rose, pulling the cloak over his shoulder. "Go to sleep."

"Where are you going?"

"Seeing if killing broken men gets me wine," he muttered and the door slammed shut behind him.

You shuffled to the side of the bed, wincing as you pulled yourself up to sit, pain throbbing in your neck. The blood still clinging to your dress had begun to brown, and your fingertips traced the stains that ran down your breast.

Waiting, you came to know the small bedchamber well. The pattern of the bubbles that speckled the glass of the lone window, the scratches that ran along the wooden floor where furniture had been dragged and rearranged over the years. You wanted to be excited. The sole bed would only mean one thing, but what did it matter to lay beside him if he did not want you? If it wasn't your comfort he sought? The hurt of such a truth would have been easier another night, but the broken men's eyes hadn't gone. It didn't matter that they lay cold, gazing blankly at the night sky. Fear can't be waved away like some fly. It burrowed deep. If he could touch you, claim you. If you could be the one to allow it, for it not to be taken. The candle by the windowsill had all but burnt away when the door creaked open.

Clegane's voice was thick and drink had left it even more grating than usual, "Told you to sleep."

"I couldn't."

"Hard thing when sitting up," he replied dryly.

The floorboards creaked under his heavy footstep and you looked up, meeting his gaze, drunk and sullen.

"You did good," you said. "We're alive, surely that is what matters."

You smiled. Offered what the man had told you was the reason he had come for you at the Battle of Blackwater but Clegane winced as if you had just put a dagger in his gut.

"You heard the woman, she knows me. Won't be a place in the Seven Kingdoms where I'll go and not have some bugger that heard of me. This?" his hand shot out, but as it closed in on your face it slowed and the finger that traced down along the curve of your neck made your body tingle. "If I failed you a first time, I'll fail you a second time. I'm no fool."

"You did not fail me."

"Did that plenty today, done it for days now," he said and laughed as you frowned. "Not blind, woman. I see your face, how miserable you are."

"It isn't— I'm not miserable."

A small part perhaps, but it was loneliness, bitterness to not be wanted. But you didn't want his touch from desperate pleads or nagging, what sort of love was that?

"There it is," Clegane breathed. He lowered, looming above you. "Don't think I see it in your eyes, woman? Your lies might not be as rotten as the rest of them, but it's lies all the same. What woman wants a man that can't even protect her?"

"You're being cruel," you whispered.

"The fuck I am," Clegane hissed. "I've been plenty patient. Others take me, you think this a cruelty? You're that dumb? It's a kindness."

"You call me dumb and say it kindness?" you replied, a shrillness growing in your voice. "I think I have made it clear what I feel for you, if you do not want me then that is something I must come to terms with, but it is cruel to mock me for it."

As Clegane leaned forward, the pain in your neck made you tip back. Was this another one of his quips? As his hands found themselves on either side of your face, linens twisting as they balled into fists.

"Wanted to keep you safe. Unharmed. You'd never feel pain again. Look where that got me. Wanted you to never weep, and is this not your tears?" His thumb brushed by your cheek, wiping the tear away. "I can kill whoever tries to hurt you, but when you regret me and these are mine and not by some broken men? Can't offer you any comfort then."

"And you call me dim," you whispered. "These tears rest by your feet, Sandor Clegane." The tip of your fingers brushed over his stubbled cheeks, and the corners of your lips tugged. "Only you its comfort."

It was another cruelty, how quickly the man's eyes could change, for them to look down on you so intently. Leaving the rest of you to catch up, heart pounding in your chest, breath hitching.

"You could kiss me... if you like," the last words barely left your lips a sound.

Closing your eyes as Clegane lowered.

The lips you had only dreamed of didn't meet yours, his nose grazed your chin, and as his warm breath hit the nape of your neck, a sigh escaped your lips, "Please?"

Pain kept you bound, from hooking your arms around his neck and pulling up. He was near. The warmth traveled down and the tip of his nose brushed by your collarbone.

"You're being cruel."

A whole other than his first. It had hurt but this was torture, his mouth was so close to the laces of your underdress. If he just caught the string with his mouth and tugged, the dress could be gone. He could see all of you, touch all of you.

You squirmed as he moved up, whimpering.

"Not cruel," the rasp was a low hum in your ear. "Savoring something new."

"Please..."

"Never had a woman plead like this," he continued, and his face nuzzled in by the side of yours, gently as not to strain the wound by your neck.

It didn't matter. Your hips bucked up, but you couldn't reach him, his left hand sliding down and pinning you to the bed.

"Keep still."

Clegane pushed up, the scowl returning to his face as he inspected your throat. It wasn't until he looked at your hands that he sat up. Red splotched the wrappings of your left hand.

"It's nothing, I swear I'm fine," you said but the hands were already sliding in underneath you.

"You need rest."

Leave it to him to even make this a haggle.

"We could be gentle," you tried as he placed you back on the bed, no longer laying on its short end.

"Had too much wine for that and my patience is strained thin as it is," he grunted and walked to where his armor rested.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

Why? It was perfect, he was perfect. His back turned to you, Clegane slid on the mail shirt, and the brigandine returned to his shoulders.

"Where are you going?"

"You need rest," he repeated, "I stay, that won't happen."

Turning to put on his cloak, you saw it, the fabric of his breeches straining. He... he was... you had done that? Clegane came closer, walking around the edge of the bed. Had he changed his mind? But you couldn't look away as he lowered, his breath tickling your neck.

Rasping into your ear, "Hear me now, woman?"

"What?"

The snort made you wince, rearing back your head.

"Pardons, never had my cock make a woman lose her hearing," Clegane said, his voice even thicker than before.

"Did you say somethi-" But the question turned to a whimper as Clegane's teeth caught your ear.

The bite made the tingling inside grow to a throb.

Your hands shot up, trying to latch onto his shoulders but he caught you by the wrists. "Such pretty sounds you make."

Clegane released you, staggering back, a grin spread on his lips. The last of his cups had caught up with him. The wildness, so similar to what had been in his eyes as he had killed the broken men met you.

"I'll taste those lips come morn," he swore and the grin grew wider as you failed to hide your disappointment.

"If this was done it mocking, then you are beyond cruel," you whispered.

"Drunk too much. I'll not have my first kiss forgotten."

With that, he yanked up the pauldrons and walked out, locking the door behind him. Watching from the window, you saw the Hound slink into the stables. The cuts in your hands didn't even allow you to deal with what he left behind. It wasn't until your body had calmed that you recalled his words.

First kiss.

The Hound had never kissed a woman before?

Thanks for reading!

Listen, getting into the emotional iceberg that is Sandor Clegane takes time. If you wish for more spice, I'll gladly provide it. But like culinary spice, text spiciness comes in levels🔥🔥🔥 So, if you have a pitchfork and wish to point it my way? En garde muthafucka!🤺

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader

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