#this look is to die for! such a good bard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feyascorner · 5 months

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1 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

Intimacy is not something you like to indulge in after your last lover nearly strangled you to death. Sometimes, you wonder if letting him ascend would mean he would still be here, by your side, rather than lurking the shadows of Baldur's Gate.

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. very excited about this!!!! I have a lot of ideas on what to do w this plot!!! ALSO there is some material (pressuring??) in this specific chapter that may be a bit uncomfortable for some readers it's very brief, but it is there so please take care of yourself!

As dark spots blur your vision, you realize you can no longer breathe.

His hands–the slender pale fingers you’ve grown to love more than your own–wrap desperately around your throat, digging crescent-shaped indents into your skin. You’d always thought that if he were ever to realize you weren’t as precious to him as he believed you to be, your neck would be the one part of yourself he’d continued to cherish. The softness in which he brushed his fangs against the most vulnerable areas of your throat had led you to believe so.

But as you stare up at him with wide eyes meeting a murderous glare, you understand that you are wrong.

His crimson eyes gleam with an emotion you’ve seen plenty on his pretty face, but never toward a friend. Never to you. You’re going to die, you think. And it wouldn’t have seemed so bad to die at his hands if it were not for the hatred reaching his eyes.

You’re not sure who–maybe Karlach or Wyll–but someone tears him away from you. Your chest dares to tighten from the loss of contact, yet you desperately grasp at the air, hands flying to the tender flesh of your neck while Shadowheart rushes to your side in an instant with her eyes narrowed dangerously at the very man who’d made the dark blemishes.

They’re yelling. Everyone is. At you, out of panic, or at Astarion, you’re not sure, but you just stare at the vampire spawn who’s now unwillingly locked into a life cast into the shadows of the city. He doesn’t look at anyone else, either.

He says something and a few more muffled voices spit back before he throws the dagger you’d given him to the ground, turning to leave. Your hearing clears just in time to hear his parting words.

“I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

A pair of hands shake you awake, and you quickly remember the poor consequences to your back of falling asleep on the empty, narrow street beside the Elfsong tavern. You look up wearily, eyes in a daze as Shadowheart sighs irritably, brows furrowed in a way that tells you to ready yourself for a scolding. “Honestly, at this point, I’m just surprised you haven’t gotten robbed during the night yet.”

You force yourself onto your feet, leaning against the walls as you rub at the crust forming under your eyes. “I have nothing of value anyway. They’re better off stealing from some other poor bard who actually bothers to write songs.”

She raises a brow at this, scanning over your appearance. “Where is your lyre?”

“Sold it,” you shrug, dusting off the muck garnered at the sides of your pants. “Wasn’t much use to me anymore. Better off adding to the funds to rebuild the city, don’t you think?”

Shadowheart frowns, and it makes you look away shamefully. Thankfully, she quickly shakes her head and then paces past you. “Speaking of which, are you in any condition to help today? Gale’s promptly exhausted trying to cast mage hand at least a dozen times yesterday to rebuild the Blushing Mermaid. That foolish wizard nearly passed out by noon.”

“‘Course,” you offer a pathetic smile. “We’re nearly finished with the Baldur’s Mouth. I’ll catch up with you once I check on everyone there.”

“Very well,” she says. She purses her lips after a slight pause. “You should stop falling asleep on the street. Especially since there’s been quite a few murders recently around the city,” she checks to see if you haven’t dazed off, “I expect you to come home tonight–We’re making stew.”

“I will. Don’t think my back can stand much more of this anyway.”

Her shoulders relax the slightest bit, and she finally manages to catch your darting eyes. “Is it the nightmares again? They’re getting worse, aren’t they?”

Your throat goes dry, and you can feel your knees grasping at its remaining strength as you search your mind for a way to respond. You’re tempted to lie through your gritted teeth, knowing she’s fully aware regardless of what pathetic answer you offer her, but you opt to seal your mouth shut, shrugging.

The flash of disappointment in her eyes is enough to make you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. With a curt note, she turns to walk away, glancing back for one last time. “Don’t give him the privilege of occupying a part of your mind for so long. He doesn’t deserve even the dirty filth you have all over yourself.”

For the first time after he nearly killed you and you defeated the Elder Brain four months ago, you think she might be right about him.

Intimacy is not something you like to indulge in after your last lover nearly strangled you to death. Though after the pitiful look your companions gave you when you arrived back at camp and the aching truth in Shadowheart’s words, you find yourself feeling bolder than the last time you dared to call Lae’zel’s cooking inedible (which it was, quite frankly).

He’s handsome. A reasonably tall elf with pale blue eyes glinting with attraction as he stares at you across the tavern. Sharp jawline, long eyelashes, and long hair brushed back and away from his face. You only notice everything else after the silvery shade of his hair–not entirely white, but fairly close, or as close as you could get to it while still being blond. You were sure he was approaching you for your title–the famed hero of Baldur’s Gate–rather than for pure physical attraction, but you weren’t in any position to nitpick at the moment.

You just wanted to feel skin other than the unsettling feeling of your own.

“Seems to have taken a liking to you,” Shadowheart sips at her drink.

Lae’zel glances at you. “He’s tolerable to the eye. Not quite attractive by githyanki standards, but tolerable.”

You stifle a smile at their attempts to urge you forward and put down your drink. “You sure you two won’t be lonely without me?...Or kill each other.”

“You can leave them to me,” Gale smiles, pacing toward your table with his drink. “I’m sure a Hold cast or two would settle them down.”

Lae’zel snatches the cup from his hand. “You act as if you aren’t fresh out of cast slots, wizard.”

Shadowheart shakes her head, nudging you forward. “Go. We’ll be fine.”

“I won’t be long. Certainly won’t be overnight,” you assure her. “I can’t miss the stew, anyway.”

She smiles, and Lae’zel scoffs in the other direction. “Hurry, he looks almost demented waiting for your graces.”

You snort and offer a clumsy glance to the elf across the tavern before striding out the door.

Behind the tavern, he’s quick to press a desperate kiss to your lips, lacking the usual tenderness you experienced with Astarion. Or had it been tender at all? Even now, you’re unsure what parts of him had been to manipulate you and what parts of him had been his raw feelings. At the time, you’d embraced either with open arms–you’d embraced him.

The elf bites at your lip, which snaps you back into the waking world. And while you curse yourself for comparing the moment to him, you find that it’s impossible as you observe that this elf is slightly shorter than he’d been. And instead of his hands wandering to your hip or waist, they graze your behind, pushing you into him in a way that feels nearly suffocating.

And most glaringly, his lips are warm. Not the cold, yet soft lips of an undead being.

You’re grateful that he keeps his eyes closed because you can simply stare at his pale hair, longing for something you vowed to forget.

It doesn’t feel right. Not at all, and you hate yourself for it.

You shove him away, face falling as you realize you want to wipe his touch away from your mouth like it’s filth, and you do. Understandably, he appears puzzled, brows furrowing as you push yourself away from the wall, shaking your head. “Sorry, I don’t think I can do this.”

But as you try to walk away, his fingers close around your wrist like a death grip, sending shivers up your spine as you find that you hate the feeling of his skin. You hate the feel of your own skin, too. Why, you’re not sure, but he leans close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheeks and yank you out of your daze. “What’s gotten into you? I didn’t do jack shit.”

“I just can’t do this,” you hiss, tugging at your hand. You could just knock him out, but the hero of Baldur’s Gate punching people as they pleased wouldn’t look too good on your end. “Let go.”

“Well, you have to give me at least an explanation,” he snaps, grip tightening. It hurts. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been sending me looks all night.”

His words seem to snap the remaining patience inside you because you elbow his stomach, shoving him backward onto his ass before pressing your dagger that seemed to appear from thin air into his neck. You haven’t had to use the knife in a while, considering how your biggest recent foe was the stinginess of patrons when it came time to pay their tabs at the tavern. Though it belongs to you, it feels foreign in your hands because, for a time, it had a different owner.

One who used this very blade against you. The same one who taught you how to elbow someone hard enough to make them reel.

“P-Please, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You’d forgotten he was there. “Just let me go, please; I won’t bother you again.”

You drop your head, sighing loudly as you sheathe your dagger once more. You think you must really be losing your mind—threatening to slice open a civilian’s throat despite the significant power imbalance between the two of you. You’re sure the greatest threat he’s faced in his life is from petty theft or something along those lines while you—well, you’re you. It’d be equivalent to a full grown owlbear attacking a goblin with a half broken club.

So, as much as you want to make him bleed just a bit, you opt to step away. “Do that again to anyone—not just me, and I won’t be so forgiving next time. Understand?”

The tremble in his irises tells you enough. You sigh again, turning to leave.

You curse your luck. Of course you would have to attract the foulest person in the tavern on a night where nothing seemed to be going correctly. Or rather, the past four months that haven’t been going as you anticipated.

Getting rid of the tadpole meant you should’ve been free from the chains of someone else—and it had, but at the cost of losing something else. And that ‘something else’ was one you weren’t sure you were ever ready to sacrifice. It should have made you happy to see the Elder Brain fall, and to rid of the squirming feeling in your skull, but all you could remember was the churning in your stomach as you realized the last string tying you to him had been snapped.

You’d gone to every tavern, every bar, playing a tune at each one until the skin at your fingers split open, because he knew you’d be there. He’d known what your lyre meant to you. Yet among the sea of faces, not once had you seen the one you wanted.

As you walk around the corner, you wrap your arms around yourself. Though Summer’s quickly approaching, there’s still a chill in the air this late at night. You pull out your dagger once more, lifting it to the sky to examine its hilt against the moonlight, which glistens with what was once your pride and love. Now, it just looks dull, and faint.

You back feels too light, now lacking the lyre. You suppose you’ll have less of a hassle moving around now, since you don’t have to worry about the strings snapping, but it doesn’t soothe you. Still, you’d sold it for good reason.

An instrument is nothing without a player who can use it, after all.

So you turn your attention back to your dagger, the last crumb he’s left for you to hold dearly to your heart, and then to the trash can perched beside a nearby wall.

You’ve tried a million times before, and you’re not sure what makes you think you’ll be successive this time, but you swallow hard in determination to rid of the thing entirely. But just as you’re about to take your first step toward it, you hear a loud, halting screech muffled instantly.

It’s from the direction you came from.

You’re breaking into a silent sprint, the weapon in your hand ready to be used. You stop before you turn the corner, readying yourself for the worst. A murder? There’ve been more than a few occurring around the city, but you’d thought the Flaming Fist were investigating that already…You can hear your blood rushing in your head, but a crunch of bone and the silence that follows afterward is all you can focus on as your grip on the hilt tightens desperately.

Cautiously, you peer at the moonlit alleyway, poised to attack.

You nearly drop the blade.

Draped in the moonlight with his face hidden by a hood, he nearly glows, though you’re not sure if it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. His fangs are buried viciously into the man’s neck, whose legs and arms lie limply at his side while the life in his eyes slips away as if it were never there. And while you don’t dare to breathe, you stare with wide eyes, drinking in his appearance as if it would be the last. A part of you thinks it may be.

But as quickly as your heart begins to race, it calms. A drop of your stomach tells you it’s not him. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or how you know, but you can just tell.

The man finally drops the now lifeless body onto the ground with a thud, wiping at his mouth with the back of his dark sleeve. He turns, and you finally see one of Astarion’s brothers–the one who’d been at the flophouse, confirming your suspicions. Regardless, your guard stays up. “I thought you guys left for the Underdark.”

He snaps his head toward your voice, eyes wide. He looks a lot better than you’d last truly seen his face after Astarion nearly burned him against the sunlight in the flophouse. What had been his name, you try to recall? Pallet? Peter? It doesn’t matter, much. “You were at the flophouse.”

He cringes at the memory but nods. “Petras. You’re the one who stopped Astarion from killing us all, aren’t you?”

Your throat goes dry at that. You’d never thought about it in such a–vulgar way, and it makes your stomach churn, but he doesn’t give you time to respond.

“Dalyria, Leon, and I have decided to stay for the sake of the spawn hiding in the city sewers,” he explains curtly. “My other siblings are in the Underdark with most of the spawn, as you expect them to be.”

You stare at the corpse on the ground, expression twitching as you meet his eyes. “Why’d you kill him?”

He licks his lips, stained with the man’s blood. “I didn’t. Someone did the work for me. I just didn’t let his precious blood go to waste.” He pauses. “I’d put a few rats on betting that it’s Astarion.”

Your eyes go wide, your armed hands dropping to your side. “Astarion? He was here?”

You’d been here mere moments ago. Had he seen you? Was he watching you?

“Maybe. Judging from how quickly he ran away from the scene when he saw me, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Shoving your dagger into its rightful place on your back, you immediately turn to search for your former companion. He couldn’t have gone far. You’d been talking to the dead man mere minutes ago, and if the death occurred between now and then, he couldn’t have possibly gone more than a few buildings away–

“I never got to thank you.”

Petras looks at you anxiously, and as much as you’d like to cut the conversation short, the way he shifts nervously can’t help but keep you in place.

“There’s no need,” you reply, stopping to shake your head. You hadn’t done it for him or any of his siblings, for that matter, anyway. Not even for Astarion. Your choice to stop had been for yourself, to keep him by your side. Your brows furrow at the selfishness draping your thoughts—that you were willing to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls for the sake of protecting the one you loved. It was a lapse of judgement. Naivety. “It’s just how things turned out.”

He tilts his head but doesn’t push it any further. “Have you seen him recently? Astarion?”

“...No. He left after we—I killed Cazador.”

His eyes flicker with disappointment, and you wonder if he’s forgiven Astarion for what he tried to do in Cazador’s dungeon. “He’s always been good at hiding. Seems some things never change.”

You nod numbly. “I’ll let you know if I do see him.”

Though you doubt you ever will. Not after how things ended. But if there’s a slight chance, even the smallest of hopes, that you can bring closure to the sleepless nights you spend on the streets, staring up at a sky that no longer brightens the way it used to, you’re willing to wait until you’re shriveled up and old, while he remains beautiful.

“I don’t think he wants to see you right now.”

The painful clench in your heart doesn’t go ignored. “Have you spoken with him?”

“Once,” he says. “But it seems he doesn’t want to speak with us anymore either. You see, our conversation didn’t quite end in a happy family reunion. We did manage to ask him a few things—like asking if he was to be staying with you.”

“And?” You’re afraid to hear the answer, but your voice is far too hopeful.

Petras gives you a look of pity, and you understand.

You understand that no matter how long you wait or how long you search for him, Astarion will not be seen when he does not want to be.

“I don’t think he wants to see you right now.”

For the rest of the night, you weep. You weep in the comforts of nobody but your own arms and nobody to hear you but the moon above.

Baldur’s Gate is by no means a city that sleeps. The past four months have been a restless cycle of rebuilding the city, and while you’ve done your part, no matter how much you do, it never seems enough.

“Oh, welcome, dear. Your friends have been a wonderful help for my house as of late,” the lady of the Highberry’s Home, Cora Highberry, ushers you into her house, still missing a roof and half the windows but appearing in better shape than most other structures in the city. She offers you a wine glass. “Do you have a preference?”

“Anything’s fine,” you smile, but just as you reach for the glass, it’s snatched away by a familiar wizard’s hand.

Gale extends Cora a gentle nod and that charming grin of his as he hands her back the wine. “While we greatly appreciate your hospitality, I’m afraid my friend here is in no condition to drink as of now.”

The playful roll of your eyes makes Cora laugh. “Ah, of course. But do know I’m so grateful for all your help. I didn’t imagine we would be building the home back for the orphans so quickly!”

“It’s the least we could do,” Gale beams. “Now then, my dear friend and I will continue working on the second floor, so just give us a holler if you need us.”

He whisks you away toward the stairs before you can wave goodbye to the woman. While you’d expect him to initiate conversation, he doesn’t say anything until you arrive upstairs, where you’re mostly alone beside the few other volunteers in the other room. You tilt your head when he finally paces past you toward one of the broken windows. “Gale Dekarios keeping his mouth shut for more than a few moments? The city truly must be falling apart.”

He cracks a smile at this, dusting off a few glass shards from the windowsill. “I’m glad to see you still have your sense of charm.”

“When have I ever lacked my charm?”

He doesn’t lift his head, pulling out his spellbook and flipping through a few pages while you survey the state of the room. “You didn’t return last night.”

You tense.

“It would be wise to be grateful Karlach’s still in Avernus with Wyll, because I’m certain she would’ve given you quite the scolding for daring to miss my world-famous Wizard’s Stew,” he says lightly, his tone morphing into something more serious when he shifts his gaze in your direction. “We’re worried about you, you know. Especially Shadowheart, even if that woman doesn’t know what gentle means in every possible level of hell.”

He’s silently asking you for an explanation, and your heart breaks at how gently he prods at your walls, giving you an opportunity to slip away again. But with how his eyes plead at you, you can’t imagine that would be possible anyway. Slowly, you perch yourself on the windowsill, looking down at the bustling crowd working together to rebuild the Highberry’s porch. They’re laughing—some face red with wine, while others scold them for it. You see a bard playing a tune you haven’t heard before, but it’s effective in lifting the mood regardless, and you finally glance at Gale.

“I met one of Astarion’s brothers yesterday.”

His face is grim. “I didn’t realize they were still in the city.”

“Me neither,” you sigh. “Some of them stayed. From what I could tell, they're mostly in the sewers, but they’re definitely here.”

“Did he seem…hostile?”

“No. He just asked me about Astarion.” You leave out the part about the dead body.

Gale’s brows furrow, but he doesn’t say anything, only silently urging you to continue. And you do.

“He doesn’t want to see me. Not ever, I think.”

There it is. The same gaze everyone seems to give you lately: pity.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you hop off the windowsill, pacing across to the other side of the room. “If he doesn’t want to see me, I won’t. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, I won’t. I’m tired of waiting for him, Gale. I’m tired of waiting for someone who won’t ever come.”

And despite the puffiness of your eyes last night, and despite the way your eyes gloss over even now, you offer him a crooked smile. “I want to focus on the city now, for better or worse.”

Gale appears the happiest he’s been since returning a few months ago with the news that Mystra has healed him of his orb. “You thought well, dear friend. You should know how glad we are to have you back. We could certainly use more hands in the kitchen, as well, considering—well, you know how the rest of our companions are with cooking.”

Just as you open your mouth, there’s an ear-shattering scream from downstairs. The two of you meet wide eyes briefly before hurrying downstairs.

Only a few feet from the patio of the Highberry home, there’s a crowd gathering with hushed whispers and the weeping of a woman. And when you manage to push through the mountain of people, you finally see the corpse.

Cora Highberry sobs over what remains of her bloody husband, who, without a doubt, has the markings of two fangs punctured through his throat.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending #angst #bg3 x tav #bg3 tav #bg3 spoilers

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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

Note

Salome!

"La Belle Dame sans Mercy" ("The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy") - A ballad by John Keats

"The poem is about a fairy who condemns a knight to an unpleasant fate after she seduces him with her eyes and singing." please

This screams Knight!König x Fairy!Reader to me.

I just know König would gladly die by the hand of such an ethereal being.

"She looked at me as she did love, and made a sweet moan."

"And sure in language strange she said—'I love thee true.'"

That’s it. Thank you.

I swear this artwork kills me everytime I see it....

Ok this became the silliest fairytale ever 🩷✨️

CW: Historical AU blending with mythical/supernatural AU. König being a dreamy mess of a knight who doesn't fit in "normal" society. Reader is part of faefolk. Heavy Arthurian Romance vibes.

König returns to the castle one day. The son of a great liege lord, a warrior through and through, but some people say he should’ve been a poet: so dreamily he looks beyond the battlements at times, sighs after drinking too much wine, stares off into dark corners of the room while tending to his sword and armour as if he can see little pixies dancing there.

His siblings sometimes hit him on the back of his head, or wave a hand over his eyes when he’s about to slip into the fairy world, a forgotten plane that is not supposed to reach the castle. But the castle stones were taken from the moors and the woods, the old land not bending to the priest’s will no matter how many crosses they brought here. Fragile souls are wanton prey for the elves and the fairies who would take them to their land the moment they drop down their guard, and only prayer and fasting hold them at bay. In the fairylands, there is no toil or sorrow; the food is golden honey and wine, the dance and love everlasting, and the fae girls more beautiful than any human maid.

It sounded too good to be true, and it was: God had created men to work and women to give birth, and all the land was theirs to use and cultivate, it was not made to simply run and frolic upon. Some say that these were just old tales and that Christ would banish these creatures away, turn the land to yielding crops and tame firewood.

But some still believed.

When he was a child, the mighty son of the feared lord took porridge and almonds to the woods. “For the fairy people,” he said with bright, trusting eyes. Stole food from under the mistress’s nose, and no one ever dared to say anything about it.

But when this nonsense carried on to adulthood, people had to intervene. There was work to be done, war, harvest and building, and no matter how many coins this man paid to the visiting bards, it would never turn their stories true.

His arm was strong and his strike was true, but his head seemed to be filled with dandelion wine, even when he hadn’t been drinking. Sighed after this maiden or that, wished to travel to foreign lands, courted every nobleman’s daughter who visited the castle, but no one ever took him seriously.

This man had to watch how lady after lady chose some other valiant knight as their husband, some men whose heads were not filled with fairytales and dreams. They did flirt with him, for who could’ve resisted the temptation of making this giant a little sweaty under all that armor? Armor that demanded plate for two people, and a smith who had the talent to forge such a beastly thing.

Nevertheless, he was always left without a warm embrace, and so he was usually found outside, looking at the full moon or spending time in taverns, choosing the company of thieves and rascals over his serious kin.

And now he has returned from the woods, having been gone for months.

People thought he had finally left to fight for some other lord, posing as a simple footsoldier, a disguise that would relieve him of his tedious duties as a knight. Or to court some “lovely peasant girl” he always talked about – such talks were usually crushed by his father, demanding him to be sensible for once in his life.

But he doesn’t prattle about peasant girls now, nor does he ramble about screaming ships at the bottom of the sea. He doesn’t hold a speech about forgotten stone circles in the forest, the ones that already grow moss. No, he has finally lost it completely.

His eyes are wild, as is his hair; his armour is nowhere to be seen, and his sword is without its sheath. He doesn’t talk about what he saw in that forest to anyone, nor is he willing to tell where he has even been these past few moons.

He seems very shaken when he’s told they were worried he wouldn’t make it to the May Day feast, and asks for how long he was gone, drives a hand through dishevelled hair when he hears that he was away for three full months.

“Three months…” he mutters to himself, then leaves to his room, the huge sword dragging against the stone floor as he goes. He has always, always made sure it wouldn’t dull, but now he’s treating it like it’s become a part of him, confused and lost.

He doesn’t eat, hardly speaks after that.

The food tastes like ash, he says, and the ale tastes like bile. But the following evening, when his mother orders someone to pour her poor son some more wine, he looks up helplessly like a child.

“I have to go back,” he says.

A clamour arises, huffed exclaims of “What on earth is he on about” and “Sir, you only just got back!” His father rises from his chair and orders him to stop this nonsense at once. But this time, there is no embarrassed sweep of hand through hair, no red colour that rises on this peculiar knight’s cheeks. His lips only make a thin line before he rises as well and leaves the hall with a weight on his shoulders and dark determination in his stare.

At the stables, a stout Moorland pony and poor stable boy get to witness the drunken bawls of a forlorn knight. The wine sack almost slips from his hands to the dirt as he slumps against the timber of the stall, distorted face coming to rest against a wide, shaky palm.

Luckily, a friend of his knows where to look, and the stable boy sneaks into the shadows, slightly scared of the sorrow of such a big, intimidating man.

But even the companion who always listened to every enthusiastic story since they were kids and ran across the moors, throwing little rocks at his father’s soldiers and laughing when their helmets made a funny clinky sound, can not understand the drunken babble that comes out of König’s mouth this time.

He starts from the middle, which is highly unusual, and talks in strings of sentences that don’t make sense. “She was real, I just know it,” he repeats, over and over again in the middle of confessions about how beautiful she was, how her hair was like the softest spun yarn, her body incredible, naked and wild when she came to him. That her laugh was like the chime of little bells or the sound of the loveliest harp, a song on its own when she walked to him.

She was fascinated with his sword, especially the pommel and the handle interested her, and the curve in the middle of the blade she brushed with her fingers as if it was an entire vale.

He had never seen a woman touch his sword like that… They were never interested in such things, but she was, and she asked him so many questions.

Had he ever felled a tree?

Did he like squirrels?

Were his thighs as hairy as his chest?

She took him down the river, or he followed her; he can’t remember. Her step was so light it didn’t make a sound, and the moss seemed to turn brighter every time her little foot stepped on it. Her hands were tiny too when she wrapped them around his neck, pressed her body against his, and kissed him until there was nothing left of him: no helmet, no sword, nothing but sun and her, her hands and her lips.

Her mouth was still on his when she whispered she didn’t like his armour because it was so hard and rigid and cold, oh, she wondered if there was a man inside there at all.

So of course he showed her.

She giggled at the sight of him, especially his thighs, knelt down on the moss to see how hairy they were.

And would you believe the way she touched him then? It makes him heady even now…

Yes, he took her. But not the way a man takes a woman. She came to straddle him and laughed again, and the things they did together… He can’t even speak about them, but he knows the sun always shined when they rolled on the grass. Her giggles and moans surrounded him, her soft little thighs were stronger than they looked, her breasts so round and soft, so perfect he swore he had gone to heaven.

He bathed in her, with her, all day long. And the nights… You wouldn’t believe the nights: there was song and dance and more giggling women, and also a man dressed all in leaves, so big and thick he first thought he was a tree. An old king, she said, nothing he should worry about. And the wine tasted like summer and honey and gold; it was red, perhaps, but also like sea amber and sun…

She fed him flowers and laughed, caressed his face and said he’s the biggest and hairiest human she had ever seen. She let him lick honey from her fingertips and caressed him with heather and ivy, opened her mouth before feeding him a soft, sweet piece of cake, showing him how he needed to open his mouth as well if he wanted it on his tongue.

She kissed the crumbs from his lips and trailed a finger down his chest, all the way down, until…

Oh, he can’t talk about it.

It was better than he ever even imagined: better than the stories they tell in the taverns. It was like his wedding night, over and over again, it was like he was Lancelot, and she was his Guinevere.

No, no, she was not an enchantress, although everything about her was enchanting... All the stories came alive with her, even the moon was bigger than anywhere he’d ever seen, the deers ran past them while they made love, and the birds sang even at night.

He told her he loved her, but she didn’t know what it meant. When he explained it to her, she looked at him gently, so gently…

He cried from joy then, but she never mocked him. She only said it’s a sign that he’s hers. That he will never forget her. She said he’ll always find her, even when he’s old: she will make him young again. He’s welcome here if he wants: she has so many places to show him.

He thanked all the saints for having found her, Saint George and Saint Mary first, but stopped when her little brows furrowed with sorrow. Her eyes, filled with starlight and love, turned so sad that his heart couldn’t bear it, not for one beat.

The sea is far wilder here: he should come and see the ocean as it was at the dawn of time. The ivy is so strong you can use it to climb the trees and see the whole world from atop the tree, the whole land, covered in forest, such as it was before humans came. There’s no smoke or fire or war: just green everywhere, wild rippling streams and honey bees and berries and fish for everyone who ever feels hungry... They can make love day and night, and she’ll teach him all the songs of old. Humans only remember bits and pieces, but she knows how things really happened, she can tell him everything about heroes, kings and queens.

She said she wanted to sleep, and so he took her from the feast and laid her on the grass… She might’ve sung to him, he can’t remember, but it was like an angel’s caress all over him, somber and sweet before the dreams took him, a dream within a dream.

He slept for ages, it seemed, saw so many dreams, each more beautiful than the last until he woke up and saw that the forest had turned grey.

There was no maiden in his lap, no dance and song in the distance, no scent of flowers and dreams and springs to be found. The sun was up in the sky, but it didn’t paint all the colours with gold or fill the streams with light. The forest was half dead to him, just old, thick trees around him, a green-grey forest floor and a shaggy squirrel who chirped and squeaked at him as if it was his fault that the fae folk were gone.

He searched for her, called for her, but she didn’t answer, and how could she have? He didn’t even know her name. He only knew how lovely she felt, how soft her hair was when it fell to cover him like a veil, how adorable her sighs and tiny little gasps were when he filled her, over and over again.

His armour was nowhere to be found, and his sword was somewhere downstream, half covered with leaves and dirt, rusty and beaten by the wind. It was early spring when he came here; the land was still barren and grey, but now, everything was green. Still, it was not the green he wanted. It was not the green that filled his vision entirely, bright, blooming green that pulsed with lush joy. It was just… earth and grass and dirt.

So you see, he has to go back. He has to find her, whatever it takes. She promised he could always come back… She promised…

He cries once more, head bowed and mighty shoulders trembling from the force of his sorrow, and it is no use to tell him that the fae folk are evil. That they’re from the Devil and only want to make good, decent men like them forget. Forget their duty, their laws, their Christ.

It’s no use to tell him that it is not natural, the place he has seen. No doubt he has been somewhere, but it cannot be anything good… No man can survive on flowers and spring water for three months; they cannot frolic with the faeries for days on end without losing their mind and soul.

And König is already lost; he was lost since he was a child, rambling about how he received flowers, sticks and stones as tokens of the faefolk’s gratitude because he brought them food.

He tries to tell the boy who never grew up, the mightiest man in this kingdom, the dreamiest knight there ever was, that he needs to return to the real world. No fae woman would have him as a husband, they are only after his soul. But surely some human lady would take him into her bed, think about it, for God’s sake, please... He has duties here, people who love him, his father would make him a lord if he only put himself together. What kind of knight would abandon his sword, helmet and armour for the sake of an elf who despises the saints...?

But in the morn, König is gone.

His rusty sword is on the floor, the wooden cross taken off the wall. There lies a honeycomb and a flower on his window, a blossom so sweet it cannot be plucked from any field around here. Too exotic and bright, especially when placed atop the rough, grey stones, it looks like it could never wither from how beautifully it blooms.

The peasants now tell a tale of a man that haunts the woods: a huge giant dressed all in green, donning a leaf cloak of some sort and a beard that grows ivy. But they say he is not evil: he only shows himself to hunters who are about to fall a deer, or children who remember the land with little gifts.

Old men say they saw a green man when they were kids and brought bread and milk to the faeries, they swear to this day they saw a man who greeted them with a smile. And when they looked again, there was nothing but a tree where this giant stook, a young oak, sighing with the wind...

#könig x reader #könig x you #mythology au #arthurian au #historical au

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noellefan101 · 4 months

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Nick-Names - Genshin

Characters: Xiao, Scaramouche, Venti, Lyney, Albedo, Kaveh, Thoma, Diluc, Childe, Heizou, Kazuha x GN reader

Warnings: a lot of cheesy and weird nicknames, if you dont like some for a specific char you're welcome to send me your ideas, could be modern au, established relationship

(you can clearly see that i prob put in an OC, so im so sry, but some i just also really head-canon as the "would rather date a loving person than be loving" if you get what i mean)

Summary: both of your pet names for each other, some silly some sweet

Note: you can really tell where i had no ideas for nicknames. and ik i use both 'pet names' and 'nicknames' but im just kinda stupid and didnt care to change stuff when i was already done with it. also i may just have a problem but why does princess sound 10x better than prince, no matter your gender, anyway love youuuu

Xiao

He will always say what is on his mind, and he did the same thing when you brought up using pet names. he wasn't very fond of the idea, and sometimes he still isn't(depending on the situation). but he has gotten used to it more over time, like when you burst open his door and to talk to him while using the most absurd nicknames he´s ever heard of.

Pet names for you: lovely, qinxing, [shorter version of your name](sry people with short names, i fell ya)

Pet names for him: babe, baby, cutie, dove, birdy, my alatus

Scaramouche

Will never admit he likes being called weird things by you, EVER. if he did then he was drunk and he was totally lying. and that counts with calling you stuff as well, he would rather die than admit he doesn't just call you that bc you wanted him to.

Pet names for you: idiot, princess/prince, dear

Pet names for him: smoochi, love

Venti

He was probably the one who suggested the idea at first, like two days/weeks (seconds) into your relationship. i also think he already had at least one nickname for you when you were "just friends", in the crushing phase, and has some for all his other friends as well(prob also his teachers if school au, lul).

Pet names for you: windblume, cecilia, [insert the cheesiest thing you can think of], my love

Pet names for him: venni, my dear, sweetheart, my bard

Lyney

He would be over the moon if you gave him a nickname, and would instantly be looking like a tomato too. would increase its usage by tenfolds if you said you liked one of his nicknames. you cannot stop him even if you somehow got 'Father' involved.

Pet names for you: babe, mon trésor, mon amour, beautiful

Pet names for him: sweetie, amour, lyn

Albedo

He didn't really see a use for it at first, finding it kind of useless. but sooner or later realized how happy you looked when he had somehow slipped up and called you 'love' when he needed your assistance. and later just didn't bother to stop.

Pet names for you: love, my cecelia, my dear

Pet names for him: 'bedo, lovely, (my) genius

Kaveh

He LOVES nick-names, probably made one for everyone in the friend group(yk alhaitham, tighnari n cyno), and would be delighted to make some up for you.

Pet names for you: beloved, lovely

Pet names for him: baby,

Thoma

He really wanted to try using them, yes he calls Ayato and Ayaka my lord and my lady, but its just not the same as calling your lover something sweet. and good luck if you don't like it, he's keeping those names forever.

Pet names for you: babe, sweetheart, baby, sleepyhead, lovely

Pet names for him: babe, love

Diluc

He honestly wasn't a fan at first, he hated it even. but of course, you being you, insisted on using names for him, and encouraged him to at least try to use some for you. so he kinda got into routine with it.

Pet names for you: my love, my dear

Pet names for him: dear, red head, love, my hero

Childe

Of course, he would use nick-names and such, he uses nick-names for the traveler and paimon, so of course he would be using such with you. honestly how could he not, especially when you're looking all cute cuddled up in his hoodie.

Pet names for you: my love, beloved, cupcake

Pet names for him: ginger, ma strong man(only for teasing purposes), hubby

Heizou

He'll almost never call you by your actual name, he didnt even when you two were just friends, only in the most serious of times would he do that. so it was no surprise that when you actually started dating, they could only become sweeter and cheesier as time goes by.

Pet names for you: princess/prince, baby, beautiful, (my) sunshine

Pet names for him: hei, zou-zou, babe

Kazuha

He loves it bc no matter what you call him he'll be happy. and he makes sure you have "some" as well, and i guess he just can't stop coming up with more, and they're always more cheesy than the last. you don't know how he does it, but maybe its just his poetry skills coming through.

Pet names for you: dove, (my) love, sweetheart, sweetie, my dear

Pet names for him: kazu, dear

thank u for reading whatever this thing is(totally not a filler bc i habe been working on that streamer au for too long), luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

#kazuha x reader #childe x reader #heizou x reader #lyney x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #kaveh x reader #thoma x reader #venti x reader #noelle´s maiden #noellefan101 #gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact

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shaampoo · 2 months

Text

OMG!?!??! I WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS SONG (and AU), RIGHT NOW!!!

(By Lydia the bard

TINKERBELL VILLAIN SONG - Fall Little Wendy Bird Fall | Song by Lydia the Bard and Tony | Animatic

The title^)

youtube

First of all the cover art is AMAZING, Tink is SO pretty, the sparkle and lines on the wings, her grin, HER HAIR, HER EARS, HER DRESS,

Also, "Fall Little Wendy Bird Fall" is a great title

Now the video itself and its lyrics, i really REALLY want to just compliment every single frame of this video, its so beautiful, so well done, its like it was blessed by The Muses of greek mythology,

Okay so the lyrics at 0:45

"You dont seem to quite understand what is at stake,

This messed up little family that i had to make"

Not only is this line so beautiful with the way her voice sounds, its pretty much a nod to the fact Tink and her friends kidnapped peter pan and the lost kids to keep her and her friends alive

(0:55) \/

"If i could let them all go home please know that i would

But it'd do more harm than good"

Just Tink expressing her guilt that she and her friends kidnapped the lost boys so that they could keep existing, but like, JWHSEAJKHWED, she ofc doesn't want her or her friends to die, and since people are slowly not believing in fairies anymore, they're slowly going extinct, ALSO, Fawn and Silvermist are DEAD, so yeah, that messes with someones head

AAAALSOOOO, i LOVE their silhouettes, the height and weight differences instead of them all having the same height and weight like in the movies, plus, i LOVE that despite not looking like how they do in the movies, you can probably still tell who is who,

ALSO

Even if it wasnt intentional, i like how in kinda faraway shots, Tink has a more cuter roundish look, while in closer shots shes more edgy and more intimidating(? if that's the right word), kinda showing how others view her (kinda?) as a cute fairy, maybe underestimated, but yknow, close up, shes plotting to kill a child

(1:15)

I love how Tink is gesturing in this scene, cause 1. It conveys to the audience what she wants from the lost boys and 2. Canonically, when fairies talk, people usually just hear jingling of bells, so shes gesturing because shes also conveying what she wants to the lost boys

1:23

"Swear its nothing personal, its a necessary evil"

I just love this line because it is a necessary evil, she needs the lost boys and peter pan in neverland to believe in fairies so that they exist, and Wendy is pretty much a threat, since she makes the lost boys want to grow up with families,

Also, the lost boys look so cute in here, i cant remember their names tho, one is holding a slingshot, aiming at wendy, one is holding rocks , and one has a stick , so Tink just told these children to assassinate Wendy, or at least attack her.

1:35

I love how the kids explain that Tink make them do it, and Peter Pan just glares at Tink, and i love that I'm pretty sure that Peter isn't mad/doesnt blame the lost boys

As seen in this scene where Pete is smiling and stuff at the Lost Boys and/or at Wendy

1:55

I love how Tink refers to Wendy as a "Nasty little spark" because, a spark can turn into a fire, damaging a lot of stuff and people, pretty much saying that Wendy has to be snuffed out before she causes a fire,

"Setting fires inside my house is just not allowed"

Pretty much referring to the fact that Wendy, the spark, is creating a fire, aka, making the lost boys want to grow up and go back to the real world, making them not believe in fairies anymore, thus, making her and her friends die, which is, not allowed.

Also. the fear in Tink's eyes is so fear, her expression is on point, the mix of concern and fear is just, so beautiful, also i love her pointed ears

2:17

First of all, this screenshot does not do justice to the actual design of the mermaid (siren?), cause they are AMAZING, BEAUTIFUL, GORGEUS.

Also, the fact that Tink is persuasive enough to convince someone to kill Wendy in such a short amount of time is impressive, and the fact that the mermaids agreed so quickly is also impressive,

When it failed, the absolute horror and shock on Tink's face? Shes horrified that another plan of hers failed, and shes scared that her friends might die, like, wow

The despair on her face is just so...asdjwoaijdoiwajd

3:38

The fact that Peter Pan (i cant even give him a nickname cause Pete sounds different and P.P. is just wrong and Pan is just A Thing), first at the gust of wind that blows away the pixie dust (which keeps the ship afloat) he covered his eyes, maybe cause the dust or his hair in his eyes, then he looks at Tink in anger and shock and probably some confusion, then looks at Wendy, in concern and fear,

Theory: Pan knows that, since Tink doesnt want the lost boys to leave, and he knows that gust of wind was from the fairies, and Tink's dislike and hatred to WEndy, that Wendy was probably the only one not going to be saved, which is why he only looks at her and tries to save her (that or he's a SIMPPPPPPP /j)

3:50

The fact that you can see Wendy screaming??? Chills,

And the black screen right after, signalling Wendy's death is just amazing

Anyways, overall, what im saying is

THIS SONG IS AMAZING GO CHECK IT OUT, GO CHECK OUT THIS PERSONS CHANNEL, THEY HAVE GOOD VILLAIN SONGS, THEY EVEN HAVE ENCANTO!!!!

#Lydia the Bard #Villain Song #Villain Songs #Fall Little Wendy Bird Fall #song analysis #Though i did little analyzing but idk #GREAT SONG #TInkerbell #?#Youtube

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sexiestpodcastcharacter · 7 months

Text

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 5

Propaganda

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show

Young hot rocker dilf

Loyal to his dead wife <3

Does in fact smoke weed

BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)

His band was a Christmas cover band btw.

Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy

Anti government (ofc)

Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)

Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??

Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch

One incredibly buff arm

Has a pet rat named after his son <3

Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged

OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE

HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON

A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)

HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS

IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED

Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence

Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!

I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.

Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so

HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.

Glenn is the goofiest sexiest character there is and I will die on this hill! I will ride into battle for him! what Dndads created is truly unique and Glenn is a key part of that and for that he deserves to win. I said it before and I'll say it again - GLENN SWEEEEEP

Can we talk about how he says ‘baby’ casually? Like he just calls people that?? That’s HOT. THAT IS HOT!! He’s also bilingual and knows Japanese!!!! He’s a big dumb idiot with a lot of charisma!!!!!! HE WORKED AT A BDSM PLACE FOR TWO SEPARATE ONE SHOTS. HES SO SAD BUT PLAYS IT OFF LIKE HE’S CHILL ALL THE TIME!! HE DOESN’T THINK OF HIMSELF AS SINGLE BECAUSE HE DIDN’T DIVORCE HIS DEAD WIFE!!! He’s like.. the perfect guy. We need this win.

I’d also like to add the fact I made this. Which is the first 11 episodes edited to (almost) only have Glenn in them <3 which is a level of insanity I hope to reiterate. These took hours to make. I wouldn’t do that for anyone else.

Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.

Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.

Amber Gris (The Adventure Zone: Ethersea):

Middle aged woman who punches sharks to death. My hero

If you love me you'll vote for amber gris I swear to everything holy on earth amen

Amber is butch, instant win

Amber Gris has a negative charisma modifier and she pissed her pants on purpose in order to trick a guard and knock him out. She tied up a dude. She once killed an evil magic shark (they're out for murder. not like real sharks) by punching it and then picked it up and smashed it into another shark, also killing it. She talks in a southern accent. She calls people guppy because it indicates a lack of respect. She has a big pair of magical green arms that come from her stomach. She got a fancy jacket and immediately ripped its sleeves off. She has a gay thing going on with one of the political leaders in the city. She gets in fights with people and doesnt do vulnerability and tries to lay low and not get in any social trouble she doesn't have to. She jumped through a portal into a new world because she could. She's now the god of said world, alone with only afformentioned political leader, who was previously possessed and she had to fight. She spends her time in a bar called the Cloaca. She calls people she doesn't like claspers, because it means shark penis. She and her friend, an old man named Uncle Joshy, sneak attack each other and yell VIBE CHECK! She tries to talk fancy to impress people and she's really bad at it (verily).

She’s everything and more. She’s irreverent. She punches sharks for a living. She becomes God. What more do you need in a butch.

amber gris propaganda: she is straightup the physical embodiment of "women want me, fish fear me." also she's an appalachian post apocalyptic sea captain. that's just objectively cool.

AMBER GRIS IS PUNCHES SHARKS AND IS (one of) THE MOST BADASS BLACK WOMEN PCS IN DND SHOWS IVE EVER SEEN. SHES INCREDIBLE AND A WIN FOR DYKES EVERYWHERE

amber's creator said she was based off of the type of working-class woman you commonly see in appalachia where "this is the sort of woman that you see walking past CVS, and you know that a truck could hit her and it would just split around her as she continued to go pick up whatever she had to do that day." and that's pretty hot

guys Amber becomes lesbian god of the new world with her childhood “”friend””

#amber gris is LITERALLY a middle-aged butch #she would win this entire tournament in a just world

Last time Amber got horny was when she killed that shark

"it was a savage bummer though, don't-- trust me, there's nothing that great about a history. You know? I got one. What did I do, killed a bunch of sharks? Last time I got horny, god and christ I can't even tell you-- well, it was when I killed that shark. But! Hey. We're all just kinda figuring it out."

Moonshine Cybin (Not Another D&D Podcast: Bahumia):

She's a hot elf with mushrooms growing on her. She has 1 level of barbarian. She's bisexual. She shapeshifted into a dragon and ate a god.

how tf does the post not mention Moonshine’s giant boobs her greatest asset

Moonshine has canonically gone down on a woman for a solid hour without asking for anything in return. Moonshine edged a dryad just by kissing them. Moonshine faced down someone being controlled to kill everyone in his path and told him if he still wanted to hurt her, she would take his blows as a friend. Moonshine makes jambalaya for her family and friends. Moonshine mispronounced someone’s name for a month and that woman still wanted to hook up with Moonshine. These are just a few of the reasons why Moonshine is sexy.

shes illiterate

canonically huffs dirty water from a bong

has big tatas

wears a belly chain with a demon trapped in it

almost became the queen of hell

ate a god

turned into a pregnant moose & gave birth

The woman she went down on for an hour asking nothing in return is still hung up on her, 200 years later. Moonshine is unmatched

To be clear the woman whose name Moonshine mispronounced for a month and then hooked up with is the same woman she went down on for an hour, and the same woman who is still flustered over her 200 years later. The rizz is unparalleled. She’s also incredibly kind and accepting of others, and goes out of her way to bolster her friends. The party always requests one big bed.

moonshine cybin is a druid who learned counterspell through sheer force of will. moonshine cybin turned one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse into a dolphin, flew him 60 feet up into the air, dropped him on the ground, and then spit spores into his face to kill him. moonshine cybin turned into a dragon and bit the head off of a double god. moonshine cybin was willing to confine herself to an eternal hell to save the world. moonshine cybin is a dragon rider. you know what you must do.

Amber and Moonshine Together

Look at them. They should not have to fight when they could be gay instead. Imagine the power they would have combined... Every lesbian in a hundred mile radius of the post would swoon. It may be an odd alliance, but from an Ethersea fan to Bahumia fans, i believe this will strengthen both our odds. I have always been insane about Amber Gris but through this poll I have also learned about Moonshine and come to love her too. Take my hand... We can do this together...

OKAY HEAR ME OUT MOONSHINE AND AMBER WOULD GET ALONG SO WELL

appalachian sapphic solidarity!

Art of Amber and Moonshine from @pirateknight.

#Round 5 #Glenn Close #Glenn Close DnDads #Moonshine Cybin #Amber Gris #Not Another D&D Podcast #Bahumia #The Adventure Zone #TAZ Ethersea #Dungeons & Daddies #Dungeons and Daddies

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itsonlydana · 22 days

Note

hello! I see you have requests open...(?) for the hobbit/lotr, and I was wondering if I could request a modern!thranduil x reader fanfiction? the reader is some sort of barista/baker/other thing, and Thranduil is obviously all rich and shit and comes in once, is enamoured by shy, flustered reader and then becomes a regular? obviously, they end up together in the end. thank you!

Lattes and Love | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

it's a rainy monday, perfect for a meet-cute with the new, handsome and rich customer that you totally don't embaress yourself in front of

tags/warnings: coffeeshop!au, fluff

word count: 2,7k

an: oh, this was such a good request! Thoroughly loved writing it :)

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"Falling for customers strictly forbidden!" was the non-negotiable rule for anyone who found themselves working at the loveliest café in Laketown; 'Beans & Leafs'.

Despite being written out on a wooden board behind the counter and in the kitchen, this rule was obviously ignored by more than half of the employees; the others were either happily coupled up, had no interest in romance, or had such an unhealthy work-life balance that this didn't matter anyway.

You, on the other hand, a longtime single and die-hard lover of romance novels, were one of the employees who couldn't go a month without an over-the-counter crush, serving coffees and teas as well as heart eyes and shy blushes.

You had perfected your craft of pouring coffee while thinking of scenarios where, instead of getting a tip, the handsome brunette with the gentle smile would wait until the end of your shift and invite you out for not coffee, but a drink, perhaps.

These fantasies did no one any harm; you would even go as far as to debate that the love you pledged for the customers was an ingredient that fitted exquisitely into the crushed beans and steamed milk.

There had never been any complaints, so there was no reason whatsoever why your boss, Bard, flung his arm out and pointed at the sign when the doorbell chimed one rainy Monday morning.

The weather had been particularly awful the entire weekend, clouds hanging low and leaving you to barricade yourself into your apartment, and when you'd left the house this morning, paddling away on your bike and avoiding muddy puddles as well as you could, the skies were still gray and gloomy. Inside the café the warm lamps tried their best to fight against the pale sunlight that fell through rain-streaked windows, coloring everything in washed-out watercolors.

When you followed the length of Bard's hand however it was as if the sun broke through, even if it was only for the few seconds you stared at the man who just entered the shop and stepped into the small line of customers.

He was breathtakingly gorgeous, right up the alley of models you saw in fashion magazines with his sharp cheekbones and the pair of high-waisted jeans that hugged his waist perfectly. Even his long black coat seemed like it was tailored for his broad shoulders and he looked, by all means, expensive.

"Eyes, Darlin', eyes."

It was only when Bard gently nudged his hip against yours as he passed you from behind and tapped one finger against the sign again, that you bewilderedly realized that hadn't been a direction to the customer's eyes – oh boy, they were twinkling like starlight – but rather a command to advert yours.

"Stop bossing me around," you groaned quietly, glad for the jazz music that played from speakers over your head and the chatter of the few other customers that had found their way into the 'Beans & Leafs'.

"I am your boss. I have every right to command you 'round," Bard said, knocking his knuckles against the sign, "And a rule 's a rule. Doesn't matter if you're the best worker I've got 'round here."

You stuck your tongue out at him of the corner of your mouth under the pretense that it was nothing but concentration over the milk you were pouring into a cup for the customer in front of you.

"You're so annoying," you said as you turned your back on the counter to grab a new cup. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

The question was directed at Bard but it's not his warm voice that answers your teasingly snappy question, but a deeper one without the familiar drip of Bard's accent:

"Yes, actually, so I would appreciate my latte with three shots of espresso for takeaway please."

You immediately flew around, hot shame bubbling up straight into your cheeks as you squealed, "Oh shit– I mean, shit, sorry!"

Of course. Of course, the 6ft beauty was the next in line, casually resting one arm on the counter and scrutinizing you with those captivating bright eyes that, now that he stared at you and there wasn't anything between you except the bar and miles of shame, did look exactly like starlight. This was so unprofessional and it didn't help that you were frozen on the spot.

You heard Bard's rough laughter, saw him shaking his head in not-so-quiet disbelief out of your peripheral vision and it only fueled the blush that took over your whole face. "I'm so sorry," you apologized and lowered your chin to look away from the customer and down to the coffee machine instead.

Flaming red cheeks reflected in the silver metal greeted you as you let the machine take over for the espresso – arabica beans from Brasille, rich, sweet and slightly nutty, and, if brewed correctly, which you always managed, would leave a lingering taste reminiscent of dark chocolate. "Whole milk, oat, almond, or soy?" you asked, swallowing the lump of embarrassment that was lodged in your throat.

"Oat, please."

You nodded and fell into the rhythm that you were used to, that, despite the hope the ground would tear up and swallow you completly, comes like second nature. "I just want to let you know that I truly wasn't talking to you," you started and foamed up the milk, hiding behind the steam.

The customer huffed out an amused laugh. "No? You're only that cheeky to your employer?"

Great, now he thought you were an employee who didn't respect her higher-ups. "No no! It's a joke," you cringed at the nervous chuckle you laughed, "Nothing serious, just joking. He knows I would never disrespect him, he's a good boss, one of the best actually! And–" you heard your rambling and wanted to close your eyes at the next blink and never open them again, "– and I should probably stop talking now."

Bard passed you again, patting one hand fatherly on your shoulder though this helped barely because the slight touch immediately zipped straight through your spine. In what could only be described as unfortunate timing your arm flinched forward, breaking the carefully concentrated pouring of steamed milk into the paper cup, and to your horror you watched as the foam parted through the coffee.

And created the perfect heart.

You gave yourself a second to breathe, to stare down into the paper cup and this was totally fine; you made latte art all the time and most of your favorite customers got a heart one day or another. And even if you didn't know the man at all and already made a fool out of yourself, other coffee places did this as well.

It's just coffee.

But it was never just coffee with all the love you poured into it, wasn't it?

So you steeled yourself, ignored the churning of your stomach, and plastered on a flustered smile. "Here's your coffee, Sir." The heart cheekily smiled right back, foam bobbing on top and this was definitely a moment you would be thinking about, maybe even use as an opportunity to reevaluate the importance of Bard's stupid sign. "Cash or card?"

He already pulled out a sleek wallet, manicured nails and long fingers pushed a neat $20 over to you. He wore a smirk, the corners of his mouth turned so far up that white teeth showed and dimples buried themselves into his cheeks. "Cash. I suspect the tips go straight to–" one finger lifted and pointed straight forward, "you?"

"Me," you repeated and quickly shook your head, "I mean yes, they go to me."

"Good," he chuckled, "wouldn't want anyone else to share what you earned rightfully, don't we? Keep the change."

"But Sir!" you protested because this tip was ludicrously big for a latte; more than double the amount of what he had paid for the drink on its own without the free show of you being a complete fool.

The man arched an eyebrow though it carried nothing but curiosity instead of the superiority that it would communicate by an older, more stuffy guy.

You busied your hands, cleaned the frother, and emptied the remaining ground coffee into the trash before you ran a rag over the machine, or otherwise, the probability of ruining your nailbeds was much too high. "The coffee's maybe not to your liking – what if you absolutely hate it?"

"Then I will simply order another one another time," he replied and the hope that sprung up inside your chest, another time– another visit, he would come back– bounced around your ribcage and threatened to burst right through.

Your throat clicked as you swallowed, looking up from the dark brown coffee that filled the next mug, coffee black, arabica beans imported from Peru, fruity and perfect for the cappuccino order, up to the man, this stunning beautiful man who tipped like he could throw away money and not notice the amount missing, the epitome of all what you've dreamed about and exceeding those standards the longer he stood around.

You grabbed the opportunity, damned the sign because why the hell should anyone be forbidden to fall in love with him and bit down on your lower lip, smiling softy.

"Could I get your name?"

"I already have my coffee," he said amused and the heat was back in your cheeks. "But it's Thranduil. Nice to meet you," Thranduil's starlight eyes dropped to the name-pin buttoned to your apron and flittered back up, warm and deep voice wrapping around your name in a manner that was close to too overwhelming. "Now, let's try this drink, shall we?"

Completely entranced by his soft-looking lips that twitched back into a smile at the sight of the heart, eyes locking on yours again as he lifted the cup, you watched him take a sip.

A soft hum.

Long lashes fluttering shut against the apple of his cheek.

Yep, there was no way back from this. By the end of your shift, you would probably bike home and dream about this moment, when Thranduil opened his eyes again and you were still staring, caught despite the line forming behind him, other customers held up by Bard, this wonderful man you would never ask anything of him ever again, and Thranduil competed in the new game of who would look away first.

"Sweet," his voice was still deep, coated by a warmness that only satisfactory coffee would bring, and you swore you tasted the chocolate on your tongue as you bit down on it.

The way your eyes scanned the work area to check if you had accidentally poured sugar into his coffee, he didn't order any, right? – and while the oak milk carried some sweetness with it, it wasn't much but what if– were a clear message of slight panic, nervousness of having gotten his order wrong and Thranduil quickly deescalated the deep frown forming in your eyebrows.

"Ah, don't worry. I wasn't talking about the coffee," Thranduil said, and, lifting the cup to his lips, he winked at you over the rim.

He left you like that, mouth hanging slightly open while your mind ran the calculation of whether or not he had flirted with you.

You spent the rest of the day in a haze, only managing the midday and afternoon rush with the memory of Thranduil whom you swore, you saw rushing past the window of the shop in the evening, long hair flying in the wind at his quick steps and if your mind didn't play tricks on you, his head turned when he passed you, eyes finding yours in a second that quietened down all the sounds.

The next day, he came in again, a phone pressed to his ear and an apologetic voiceless: "So sorry," when the call was seemingly important enough for him to take his latte, foam-heart included, and dashed back outside, leaving you another hefty tip but no further interaction.

You sighed.

For good measure, you even glared at the sign.

Thranduil stopped by on his way to work every morning from Monday, Thursday and Friday, ordering his latte until it waited for him at exactly 7:45, the heart inside the coffee wandering onto the takeaway cup when you started scribbling his name onto it, first on the dot of the 'i' and then, later, when you were brave enough, next to the name.

It was a hurdle, more than often you had the sharpie pressed into the paper, blacking out from sheer panic that seeped through you like the dark ink that ended up either a smiley or a flower or full stop.

Thranduil would come in, sweep you off your feet by simply smiling or smirking at the new doodle on his coffee, steaming hot as soon as the bell announced his arrival, and leave. Never without tipping you enough for you to buy a new bike at the end of the first month of him visiting the 'Beans & Leafs'.

On Saturdays, Thranduil came in and settled his tall body into one of the window tables, entirely oblivious to all the ogling he got from passersby as well as customers, they stared all the same at his beauty and the weekend always got better because his sole focus was on you.

On Saturdays, he got his coffee, a Cappuccino served in dark blue mugs that complimented his white-blond hair and the rosé of his lips that savored every last drop, and he started asking you for your opinions on the breakfast options.

The first time he did it, long legs crossed over each other and his head propped up on his hands listening intently, you rambled on the entirety of the menu, babbling on and on and on:

"We got wonderful apple rose tarts, that truly look like roses, and rhubarb pie or a lemon shortcake – that one goes perfectly with the chocolaty taste of the coffee beans! And we have croissants, banana bread, and a cheese Danish!"

"Mhmm, all of those sound ama–" Thranduil started but was interrupted by your nervous continuing chatter:

"And of course, you could have a chicken and avocado sandwich, if you want something more savory. Or our chefs make a mean bacon and egg one with arugula and a blueberry vinaigrette?" you asked and threw a quick look to Thranduil who hid his amused smile that lit up his whole face behind his fingers. "Oh, or are you a vegetarian? Then I would recommend the olive, tomato and hummus bagel, but maybe you don't like olives. For that, we have a walnut quiche–"

"Yes, I am vegetarian–"

The smile bloomed past the, noticeably large, hands, the corner of his mouth curling up while his eyebrows furrowed in the concentration of keeping still, watching you in awe as your breath held on far longer than his ability to remain calm and it was only a matter of time until you were done.

Your eyes landed on the dimples, the soft crow feet next to his eyes, and low on oxygen you finally managed to detangle yourself from the menu that you had previously, in preparation for this moment, had carefully written down on your notesblock, the page now crinkled at the edges and most of the ink smeared under the hard press of your thumbs.

"Great! Do you want me to repeat the vegetarian options?"

Thranduil ordered all of your recommendations.

Not all at once, it wasn't past you to bring out dozens of plates at his request but Thranduil kept to two cups of coffee and worked his way through the display of cakes, pies, breads, rolls and sandwiches, always prepared by you.

You served him his first coffee with a heart in his mug and a plate for him to eat and after rushing through the next hour, eyes locking across the room now and again whenever you looked up from the coffee machine and he from his plate, you would bring him his second cup, carrying the heart-coffee and another one for you to sip on during your break, legs brushing against each other under the small table.

It was there, at this table, that Thranduil asked you out, not two months after the first interaction.

It was also at this table that he kissed you for the first time, tasting like love, lattes and a bit of chocolate.

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

#📁files: thranduil fanfics #thranduil x reader #thranduil oropherion #thranduil fanfiction #king thranduil #thranduil x you #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction

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simping-overload · 2 months

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ᴀ ᴛɪᴇꜰʟɪɴɢꜱ ᴛᴀɪʟ - ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴꜱ

a/n: halsin with baby fever <3 make this man a daddy

tags: halsin, he wants kids so bad. gn reader, zevlor cameo, just fluff.

『read on ao3』

synopsis: Halsin watches as you interact with the children of the Grove.

ヾthis is a multi-fandom blog that is designed for mlm/nbmlm identifying readers! so if you're female or fem please do not follow or interact with my mlm related post!! you will be blocked if you do not heed this warning ゛

The festival was bustling, children ran around and played whilst the adults drank the evening away. Bards sing their songs by the fire, occasionally starting sing-alongs.

Halsin sat separately, in a smaller, quieter corner, leaning against a wall as he watched over the party, making sure things won’t get too rowdy.

His gaze wonders over the crowd, looking for a familiar face before he lands on you. Sitting down on the ground and making flower crowns with the children. A child places one on top of your head, mindful of the horns.

The children braid and weave flowers along your tail and horns. Maybe at the right angle, you’d look like a statue wrapped in overgrown vines and plants.

Seeing you interact with the children stirs an all too familiar feeling in his chest, his desire for children of his own. Whether adopted or somehow biological, he wants ones of his own.

To see and hear the pitter patter of their tiny feet thumping against the wooden floor of your cozy home. Teaching them how to cook, clean, and maybe, if they wished, he can teach them the ways of the druids.

He’s already accustomed to the cries and screaming of children. Over the long years he has been alive, it’s safe to say he already knows how to handle it, especially when he took over as Arch druid of the Grove.

As much as he wants children, he doesn’t know if you wanted them. You never gave any indication if you did or didn’t.

Halsin tears his eyes away from you when he feels a nudge on his side. He turns his head, locking eyes with the person. It was Zevlor, a good friend of his.

“Something on your mind, Halsin?” The tiefling leader asks.

“Its—it’s not something to get into now, but how are you, friend?” Halsin tries to deflect the conversation away from him.

Zevlor raises a brow. “I’m well. The party is a bit more crowded than expected. Aside from that, don’t you dare try to change the topic. You’ve spent enough time of your life hiding your issues and feelings. Speak, my friend. I’m all ears.” Zevlor takes a sip of his wine.

“Do you think Tav and I would be good parents?” He suddenly blurts out, shoulders tensing at what he just said.

Zevlor grins. “I think you’d be one of the best parents in Faerûn.”

Halsin smiles at this, looking away from his friend and back at you.

“Though I would recommend waiting. Maybe a few years after the fame from your adventures, die down, and when you finally settle down. Did you ask them yet?”

Halsin chuckles nervously, “Well. No. I was waiting for a good time, but that moment never came.”

Zevlor huffed at this, smacking the druid’s calf with his tail. “Go ask.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Gods know you probably wouldn’t ask for another year! And look, they’re already on their way.. I’ll leave you to it.” Zevlor pats Halsin on the shoulder before slipping off.

Halsin watches as you approach, and by the Oak father, you look divine. The bear in him just wanted to ravish you more than and there. He pushes the feeling away as he pulls you into his warm embrace.

You wrap your arms around him, curling into him as you soak in his comforting warmth. Pulling back slightly, you look at your lover, adoration laced in your expression.

“Hi love.”

“Hello, my heart. I see you had quite the time for the children.” He brings a hand to the flower crown that lies on your head.

You chuckle, nodding, “Yeah, it got a little out of control.” You gesture to your tail. It had all kinds of flowers laced together covering it.

With a fond smile, he gently caresses your cheek with his hand. Pulling you forward, and presses a loving kiss to your lips. He faintly tastes like honeycomb and tobacco.

You shut your eyes, falling into the kiss. Getting lost in the sensation of his lips on yours.

He reluctantly pulls away when the need for air becomes too strong. He settles to rest his foreheads against yours, looking into your eyes with a longing your’re oh-so familiar with. You can see his eyes flicker with uncertainty. It seems he’s having an internal conflict with himself.

“What’s on your mind, Halsin?” You ask, cupping his face in your palms so he can’t turn away.

He sucks in a breath before letting the words flow from his lips. “I have something to ask of you.”

#bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate x reader #halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 halsin #bg3 halsin x reader #halsin silverbough x reader #halsin x tav #bg3 halsin x tav #halsin x reader

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ystrike1 · 8 months

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Former Villainess and the Fallen Prince - By Tamagokitchen (7.5/10)

"You are sublime."

It's a role reversal otome isekai! A tragic "villainess" returns to her normal modern life, after a corrupt king executes her. Her royal fiance takes revenge for her sake, and he follows her through the veil. Can she forgive him? Even after she watched her otherworld family die at his father's hands?

Karen woke up, after a life that felt like a terrible nightmare. She had a loving family. Good looks. A handsome prince fiance, but by the end she wasn't happy. Her beloved family got no respect, because they were foreign. A Saintess rose up, and got popular, and coincidentally rumors about a villainess began to rise soon after.

The King knows he is a liar. The Bard Family worked hard to become a Ducal family. Karen Brad was worthy of marrying the prince. Her family had broken no laws, but the Saintess? Well, she was so perfect. The King did not want the next Queen to be a lady with foreign blood. Not when a good and pure Saintess was single and available.

He stabs Karen.

The last thing she sees is her fiance.

Her relationship with him wasn't perfect. He was cold. The perfect prince to all. They didn't know each other well. They were political partners.

She thinks he is disgusted by her blood.

She doesn't know he loves her.

She wakes up in our world, and 5 years fly by. She is careful of love. She's a hard worker, and she's pretty popular. She is no longer a famous villain. She's a regular woman with a simple life.

The new manager barges in, claiming to be her fiance.

Everybody congratulates her.

Yuuri is perfect. Handsome, wealthy, and kind. He's the ideal husband.

She recognizes him.

It's tense because they both know.

No memory loss here.

These two characters met last time on a bloody battlefield.

He immediately tries to seduce her.

He reaaaaallllllyyyyy missed her.

They were only engaged before.

They didn't get to enjoy their married life, or much alone time, together.

He brings her a ribbon that looks exactly like the one she used to wear.

He says sorry.

He says he would have saved her family, if he had the power. He did take revenge for her. When he became King he killed the Saintess, who was supposed to be his fiance after Karen. He destroyed the entire country. He lured in his enemies, and he let them take over. He destroyed his fathers legacy, and everyone who dared to support the Saintess.

She got that ribbon from him originally.

She forgot him. They spent a short time together as kids. Then there was an eight year gap. Yuuri was already in love, even when Karen thought it was all politics.

He says he did all he could to avenge her innocent family, so she says yes.

She accepts his proposal, and they live happily.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #otome isekai #otome games #otome game #otome

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yourplayersaidwhat · 11 months

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Right plot twist, wrong sister

Context: I'm Dming my first ever campaign. In the very first town our group is in, the BBEG (a bard named Edin, who is evil just because she's bored) runs the local tavern, with her sister Ida (who does NOT know her sister's evil).

Of course they entered the tavern.

Me: You all enter the tavern. Looks like only some locals are inside. Two human women are behind the bar. Clearly related.

*Party questions the two about local rumors and such*

Rogue: I want to insight check the two.

Me: Go for it. One at a time though.

Rogue: 14 for Ida, and 15 for Edin.

Me: *Rolls a random die for Ida, since she's being truthful and is pretty easy to read. Rolls a nat 19 for Edin.*

Me: Both seem on the up and up. Everything they say seems to be truthful from what you can tell. Ida seems excited to see new people while Edin seems more guarded.

Bard OoC: So Ida is pretty sus right?

Me: *Confusion*

Paladin OoC: Totally! She knows something.

Rogue OoC: I can break into her room and snoop.

Me: *Rolls a die because there is no way Edin WOULDN'T pick up on an interaction like this, rolls really well.*

Wizard OoC: I think that's a good idea.

Me: *Wondering how NONE of the party noticed me rolling dice, but rolling with it.*

So they broke into Ida's room and really only found her diary where she detailed her fascination with dragons and her crush on the local farmer boy. They're completely convinced she's a bad guy now and it's killing me.

#shit my players say #rpg #submission #shareable #dnd

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kiri-tatsu · 1 year

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This time I won't leave your side

you died before their eyes many years ago barely lived your life, you still had many years before you, this time you come back to them, living and breathing again. Was this a sick joke played by Celestia on them? But no matter, they wish for more as you are back, after all they will love you a thousand more times no matter how you come back to them, they will always be able to tell it's you.

tw- some angst, reader death, fluff, strictly platonic(Qiqi & Nahida), the rest could be read as platonic or romantic, leaning more to romantic on them tho, characters- venti, zhongli, raiden, nahida, wanderer/scaramouche, xiao, aether, lumine, albedo, and qiqi

Venti

A man, a bard, a god, an archon, immortality was granted to him when he be came the Anemo archon, whether it be a curse or a gift, he didn’t know anymore. But he knew it was a curse bared by him the moment he found his beloved laying in a field full of bloodied flowers.

If only he had been quicker, or if he never let them go alone by themselves to do their commissions, then maybe, they wouldn’t be six feet under.

Every day he would visit their grave in the late hours of the night, sit and talk with a bottle of dandelion wine, as if they were there with him. He knew no matter how much he spoke, his words will never make it to their ears.

One day he awoke by their grave, he drunk himself drunk and decided to just spend the night with them. But there was someone else by him when he awoke, they had messy h/c, and he couldn’t see anything else.

“Who... Who are you?” He asked as he sat up, and the stranger turned to him, and he felt his heart leap to his throat, his chest hammering, and his eyes widened in astonishment. “Good morning, sir, it seems like you had a fun night,” they smiled at him as he sighed nodding with his own smile upon his face.

“That I did,” he knew that they wouldn’t remember anything, but to have them here now, he was happy and content. He took up one of the unfinished bottles as they sat in the grass beside him, and they spoke for hours beside the grave.

Zhongli

He lived for eons; lovers, friends, people he thought of as family, have came and gone. He should’ve been used to it by now, but no matter what he could never handle it each time he seen it.

He is immortal, he is cursed with seeing mortals he grows close to die in front of his eyes no matter what, that is just the way of life. No matter how many times he sees it, he will never grow used to it.

Rain poured from the night skies heavily one night, it was difficult to see, and he knew as he waited for his love, they might perish in the storm. The next morning, he was right, someone awoke and seen their body on the side of the road, cold, and frail.

He blamed himself no matter how much someone else told him otherwise, when the 76th director of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor died and his young grandchild had taken over, he went to work of her, Hu Tao was her name.

Visiting the grave of his beloved was painful, but every year on their birthday, on their anniversary, or even on their death anniversary, Zhongli would get up, ask Hu Tao for the day off, and sit at his beloved grave for the whole day.

Their birthday was coming up, so he decided to ask Hu Tao for the day off, and he was allowed to leave for the whole day. He went to go prepare; flowers, tea, some letters he written to them, and even some of their favorite food.

When he carried all of the things in his arm, he nearly dropped some of the stuff, “Hey, do you need help?” That voice nearly made him freeze, but he turned with a small nod. “That would be very appreciated,” he spoke kindly to them, and when he looked into their eyes, he knew.

He knew they had found him again on their own, and like always, he would stay by their side, until the end of his curse. He would love them no matter the shape or form in their next life, it was still his love.

Raiden Ei/Shogun

Life and death, such a concept what hard to accept when you lived hundreds of years. No matter how much death you witness, or how much you try to forget it, it will always be there to haunt you until the end of time.

The land of eternity was difficult to live in with all the hostile people, the lightning and all the rain, yet it was such a beautiful place. Beauty would always be found in the storm no matter how you see it, and the electro archon knew that.

The day her darling passed due to some treasure hoarders, he promised herself to rid of all of them on her lands and that she did, well, her puppet did. Still meditating, she waited for until her puppet would come back, and this time she did with someone else in tow.

They seemed familiar, and they looked beaten up, she looked at her puppet who looked elsewhere as she tugged on the rope that was connected to their hands. “Shogun... What is the meaning of this?”

The person looked up at Ei, and she felt her heart drop to her stomach, their eyes formed into a glare as they looked at her, but her heart was beating rapidly against her chest. They were back again, and she was glad to have them back and alive.

“You, what is your name?” When they stated their name, her heart fluttered as she nodded with a soft smile to herself, they are back, they are alive and breathing. They are safe now, she told herself.

Nahida

She was a god of wisdom, of course she knew of reincarnation, she was locked up for nearly five hundred years, she had a bit of freedom, and she made a friend, one of the sages that had her locked up, they were nice. They wanted to go against Azar’s words and let her free, but the other sages knew of their plans, and they were disposed of.

Nahida no matter how much she sees people come and go, she wouldn’t be able to handle it, she may be over five hundred years old, but she still was a child no matter her knowledge. She cried for hours and hours when Azar came with one of Y/n’s belongings, tainted with splotches of blood.

When she was freed from her prison and Azar was delt with, she would stay by the blond traveler’s side at times. When they had decided to take up a rather difficult commission one day, she went with them, but even then, the two were enough, they just needed a bit more power.

A person from out of nowhere jumped in swinging their weapon with their vision, and they turned to the three with a large smile and wiping the sweat from their brow. Paimon asked loudly for their name, and they stated it with a loud voice clearly proud of their self.

Nahida smiled with a nod, the sage from all those years ago was back, and they were a vision wielder now. The traveler introduced them self with a smile and offered dinner as their gratitude. “And this is Nahida,” she held a hand to her chest, her heart fluttering in happiness. “It’s nice to meet you Y/n, I hope we can be friends,” again, she wanted to say but stopped herself.

Wanderer

The betrayals, as he called them, made him into the man he was years ago, The Balladeer, Scaramouche, The Sixth of the Eleventh Harbingers. He was feared by all, but there was only one person who lived in a cottage in the forests of Snezhnaya, he stumbled across them one day during a harsh winter.

His first thought was to rid of them for even seeing him vulnerable, but he bit his tongue and said nothing as they treated his wounds. Every few weeks he would go and visit them, but he would rather die than let them know.

A particular harsh winter had gone over the land of ice and snow, he knew that tiny cottage wouldn’t be able to keep them safe, so when he went to go visit them after the ice storm had passed, he was met with his fellow harbinger dragging their body out of the home.

“Oh, you need not to worry for them, they are my latest experiment Balladeer,” and he bitterly turned on his heel and went back, their smile and kind eyes pushed into the dark backside of his mind.

When he resided in Sumeru and received his Anemo vision, and his pasts memories as The Balladeer, surprisingly their smile was the first thing he had gathered in his mind. The lands of Sumeru were hot on the day he strolled around, going about his day aimlessly.

He bumped into someone, a small scoff leaving his mouth, “I am so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” They rambled as they picked up their things, and they looked up at him with a small frown. His breath hitched as they smiled at him softly, “I’m sorry again,” and they turned on their heel and walked away from him.

Without knowing his own feet moved on their own, and he followed after them without another words, they turned with a smile and he held his face flush. It wouldn’t be so bad to open up to someone now after all that he has been through.

Xiao

The Yaksha, a protector of Liyue, a conqueror of demons, and an adepti. He wished to only rest one night, but in the dead of night, he heard the faint whisper of his name. With a wisp of black and teal, he was met with the sight of his beloved covered in blood and fatui agents and gunners surrounding their body.

All he saw was red as he felt his mask consume his face, there he slayed the ones who caused his dear harm, and once they were slayed, he dropped to his knees by their side. Tears cascading down his cheeks as he took their dying into his arms, their cold hands raising to gently brush some of his tears away.

They spoke lowly, “I love you,” and with that their body fell limp in his arms, be forced himself to carry their body and bury them, no matter how much it tormented his heart. And he forced himself to promise to never go to another mortal or love ever again.

Lantern Rite, the time to be happy, to let xiao lanterns float up into the sky, and spend time with your loved ones or ever friends. But this was yet only year he no longer had his beloved by his side, but instead the blonde traveler and their floating fairy by their side came up to the balcony of Wangshu Inn.

Following behind them was another person, bright/dark eyes, and a smile on their face as they carried a xiao lantern in their hands. “Xiao, this is Y/n,” and his heart fluttered hearing their name, but he crossed his arms and closed his eyes trying to keep his composure. “It’s nice to finally meet you, conqueror of demons,” they said with a smile making him want to hug them tightly and never let them go, but this wans’t his beloved.

This one was a new Y/n, not the one he used to know, but still, he will try to make some conversation, “Likewise mortal.”

Aether

A lone traveler from another world, traveling with his sister, but he lost her along the way to this new world. Teyvat... It was strange, but it was a newly welcomed adventure. The person he met was a beautiful/handsome person in his eyes. He thought he shouldn’t get too attached until he found his sister, but that was inevitable.

They easily broke past his flimsy walls he put up; teasing him for hours that they would spend together, but he knew nothing of this world’s horrors. He thought he was safe just carrying around a sword unknowing of visions.

One day he ventured out to find some fruit leaving his beloved alone in their makeshift camp, and hearing a scream from a bit aways, he turned and ran back. If only he didn’t leave, then maybe he wouldn’t be cradling their body in his arms as they smiled up at him, their eyes closed as they held his hand limply.

And then he found himself staring out into space reminiscing about his days before his floating child companion, she was complaining about something, but he couldn’t hear her as he stared at the person before him. They waved their hand in front of his face as he final was snapped out of his daze.

“I’m sorry... What were you saying?” They let out a small chuckle as he felt his cheeks flush, “I was asking what would you like to order?” Oh, that what Paimon was yelling about, food. But he knew not what to say his words seeming to die on his tongue the more he looked at the person before him.

Who knew reincarnation was possible in this world, but then again it was full of surprise that he was willing to discover as long as this Y/n stays by his side safely at all times.

Lumine

An abyss princess, she was forced to see death and destruction. In every world she traveled with her brother, it was always different, but this was the first time she traveled alone without him.

Back in Khaenri’ah, she was alone, but she bet a blond man, and another person, her first love in this world. They were an amazing person; kind, calm, beautiful in her eyes, and she told them after a few years of friendship.

And when she was going to propose to them, the archons of this world has decided, Khaenri’ah should be no more. Blood, fire, death was everywhere as people ran and screamed for their lives, but where was Y/n?

They were no where in sight as Lumine ran around trying to find them, just as she was about to run into a building the roofs began to cave in, and before she could react, she was pushed out the way.

Her honey-colored eyes turned to see a familiar head of hair get crushed by the fallen debris, and she knew, her love sacrificed their self for her. With a heavy heart, and tears in her eyes as she moved to leave, she looked to see the sky painted red, and fire reaching towards the heavens.

Hundreds of years later she looked over a cliff to watch her brother, the blond man, and a floating child. Took caught up in her gaze, she failed to notice a person running to her, swinging a claymore around.

But before she could get hit by their attacks, she raised her own sword and their blades collided as sparks flew from the two metals. Her breath hitched as they jumped back, their weapon coated in elemental energy as they grinned at her widely. “And so the abyss princess knows to fight,” they snarked with their eyebrows furrowed with that grin upon their face.

“You... What is your name?” They slung their weapon over their shoulder with their grin still upon their face as they jabbed their thumb to their self. “Names Y/n, princess.”

Albedo

Relationship; complicated, complex, and too much effort to maintain, it’s what he always thought. He knew any type of relationship relied on communication, quality time, and even effort.

And somehow, some way, a mortal managed to worm their way into his heart, his darling, his love, his first; Y/n. They were his everything, his friend, his lover, his muse, the reason for him to live. He wanted nothing but to have them in his life for all eternity.

But he was too late, too late to do anything when a sword impaled his darling, all he saw was red as he slayed the beings that harmed them, and when he fell to his knees by their side he was too late to even be there in their last moments.

And after that he never left his lab, be it the one in Dragonspine, or even the one in the one in the Knights of Favonius building. The only time he would turn to see something else other than his research was Sucrose bring more supplies or Klee pestering him.

Out of material for his latest experiment, he heaved a heavy sigh as he looked around his lab; messy, dirty, unorganized, maybe he’ll clean up once he comes back. Leaving his lab, he walks slowly, how long has it been since he left? How long did he stay with his experiment?

His eyes trailed up to the sun; how long has it been since he had been outside? His legs carried him until he collided with another being. “Oh, I’m sorry,” they spoke as Albedo rubbed his head and looked up at them and their outstretched hand.

His heart nearly stopped beating in his chest, “Uhm... Hello?” They questioned a bit awkward from his staring. Shaking his head, he took their hand as they pulled him up, and gave him a smile, “Sorry for bumping into you, I was told by Sucrose to help deliver these to Albedo,” his eyes still couldn’t leave them, but how could he not? His Y/n was back.

He sighed taking in reality, his Y/n was gone... This one was a new one, “That would be me, my apologies, I am a bit out of it,” they smiled at him and waved their hand at him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to form another companionship.

Qiqi

When she heard of the passing of the person she loved as her parent when she was just barely a few years old to understand, she cried for hours. When she died, her memories of that person were wiped completely but at time you could hear her mention a person’s name when she rambled under her breath to herself about remembering things.

So Baizhu had gifted her a journal to write anything and everything she possibly wanted to remember. And every day she would write about everything and anything, some days she wouldn’t have anything for her journal.

One day she was writing in her journal, and in strolled in the Traveler and Paimon, and her eyes looked up at them a bit disinterested. “Doctor Baizhu is not here... Qiqi will help you instead,” and a person accidently bumped into the traveler making a Qiqi look at them.

“You are clumsy... Apologize,” she said as they helped up the blond and looked down at the little girl, “Hi Qiqi, Doctor Baizhu sent me to come get these for him,” they handed the little girl a slip of paper giving her a smile.

She took the paper with a little smile at the mention of her caretaker as she looked down at the paper, “Qiqi will get this for you...” She smiled up at them as she turned on her heel and gathered what the paper said, when she returned, they were talking with the traveler.

“Qiqi, has gotten what Y/n needed,” she said not realizing what she said, and the person turned to her with a surprised look, before they shook their head and gave her a pat on her hat. “Thank you Qiqi,” and with that they left, and Qiqi took out her journal and wrote the name.

It was familiar as she flipped through her journal, and saw the name on the very first page, Y/n... They had come back, and the zombie girl didn’t even know it, all she knew was she felt warm all over when she talked to them.

im so srry this took awhile, i haven't had any motivation lately :( but i am trying my best, i have an idea for a kaveh x reader oneshot if anyone would be interested to read that when that comes out <3

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stars-in-a-jam-jar · 20 days

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I loved Buddy this episode. Exactly the energy I love to see. He remains Completely Mostly-Deliberately Fanatical, but to the point where even the people who coerced him into joining their new religion are like 'You're!!! Doing it wrong!!!!' And Buddy's just like 'I have faith in Bakarath :)' I love him, I love that for him, I love Buddy Dawn so much, please don't die, Buddy, I just wanna have you floatin' around being a silly little uses-his-high-wis-stat-to-deliberately-fail-all-insight-checks-on-himself guy forever.

I wanna see Buddy at the end of this approach Fig like a little lost puppy asking her about Ankarna, but not in the soft explorative way that Bucky is curious about Kristen's relationship with Cassandra, in a way that's like 'I've been in a right tumble dryer lately and was wondering what exactly The Correct Worldview to attach my entire soul and sense of self to is.'

Want him to be a complete mess most of senior year as he keeps looking for new things to attach himself to. Every few weeks he changes his style to reflect the new thing he's trying on as a replacement for developing an independent sense of self.

Want him to be three quarters of the way through senior year before he even thinks to talk to Jawbone. That or they've been having mandatory councilor sessions all fall, and it's only as the Moonar Yulenear is coming up that Bucky starts Acting Like A Person for little flashes, where his entire attitude and personality is not some ironclad manifestation of what he believes The Correct Person To Be is, and instead he just. Genuinely loudly laughs at a joke that a few months ago he would've simply given a polite sensible chuckle to and said 'Oh, that's a good one'. He lets his face fall into a bored exhaustion in a class and the teacher asks him if something's wrong and he snaps back to, but it still happened. The omnipresent 'Good God Fearing Boy' persona slipped and he was a bored teen for a second. He tries a heavily caffeinated drink in the same way one might try a beer for the first time and suddenly he's being a little silly twirling his staff around and stumbling over his sentences a little more as his brain whirrs.

He cries and he breaks something and there's this icky complicated cocktail of emotions because getting angry is bad and being upset is bad; he was taught that all his life and then it was proven correct when he was resurrected by a false manifestation of a dead goddess worshipped in her true form by the archdevil of rebellion who spent the entire school year playing mindgames with the bard in Buddy's party who were using him.

But Jawbone keeps saying it's important to feel your feelings, which is a very silly thing of Jawbone to keep emphasizing, because Buddy always feels his feelings, it's not like he just unilaterally fends every emotion off as if it'll be his inevitable downfall. There's The Good Feelings and The Bad Feelings, and The Good Feelings come from The Good Things and The Bad Feelings are temptations into evil he must not indulge. He chooses to identify with the Correct Feelings To Be Feeling, obviously. Because you're supposed to do that. And anger and upset are never correct. It was a lesson he had to learn the hard, painful way because he was a stupid, flimsy kid who needed to see the real truth up close and personal. That's why all that stuff happened to him. Why the Rat Griders were so dismissive of him. Why Kristen was trying to build bridges with him.

So why did he just shatter the mug his grandfather gifted him after his baptism when he remembered how Oisin and Ivy seemingly constantly side-eyed him every time he spoke. At least it felt that way. Buddy's very used to constantly feeling observed, he probably just imagined that.

They're not exactly alive to ask anymore.

What do you MEAN my silly post about how I think Buddy's insistence that Bakarath is For Sure The Name You Guys is cute and funny turned into ANOTHER Buddy Dawn fanfic???

#fantasy high junior year spoilers #fhjy #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #buddy dawn #rat grinders

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feyascorner · 5 months

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Preview | The Fangs Between Us

summary. “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. 0, TBA

a/n. This is just a preview of the multi-chapter fic I thought of :)) I'm not sure if I'll be able to continue writing it yet, but I'll definitely try lol. It takes place after the game!!!

As dark spots blur your vision, you realize you can no longer breathe.

But as you stare up at him with wide eyes meeting a murderous glare, you understand that you are wrong.

He says something and a few more muffled voices spit back before he throws the dagger you’d given him to the ground, turning to leave. Your hearing clears just in time to hear his parting words.

“I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

She raises a brow at this, scanning over your appearance. “Where is your lyre?”

“Sold it,” you shrug, dusting off the muck garnered at the sides of your pants. “Wasn’t much use to me anymore. Better off adding to the funds to rebuild the city, don’t you think?”

Shadowheart frowns, and it makes you look away shamefully. Thankfully, she quickly shakes her head and then paces past you. “Speaking of which, are you in any condition to help out today? Gale’s promptly exhausted trying to cast mage hand at least a dozen times yesterday to rebuild the Blushing Mermaid. That foolish wizard nearly passed out by noon.”

“‘Course,” you offer a pathetic smile. “We’re nearly finished with the Baldur’s Mouth. I’ll catch up with you once I check up on everyone there.”

“I will. Don’t think my back can stand much more of this anyway.”

Her shoulders relax the slightest bit, and she finally manages to catch your darting eyes. “Is it the nightmares again? They’re getting worse, aren’t they?”

For the first time after he nearly killed you and you defeated the Elder Brain four months ago, you think she might be right about him.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst

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caxde · 1 month

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Ok, today is my birthday I just woke up and thought it would be a good idea to finally ask for the drable of bright eyes that I thought of Eddie having a campaign with the boys and girls and also Y/N but Lua wakes up and see them so she wants to play too so Y/N sits her in their lap and let's her play with her.

I love your work and you are one of my favourite authors 💙💖💙

omg!! happy (late) birthday babe!! hope it was a good one <33 thank you so much for the request and for reading and for being here haha, hope i made it justice <33

bright eyes universe drabble (2.3k)

“What would even be my name?” You tell him, almost in a tired wimp, your head hurting slightly.

“Princess the Bard” He teases back, his head tilting to the right, his hair shaking in that hypnotic matter he knew you liked.

“If everybody keeps calling me princess, you’ll have to come up with a new nickname.” You point back, looking over your shoulder so you can see the way his eyes plead back, while he follows you to the kitchen.

“I can try a few…” He tries once again, he lets his body rest against his kitchen counter, waits for you to place your empty plate down on the sink, the soft ‘clinck’ sound links with his fingers graceing your waist. He grabs you softly, taking his time to first caress that little spot, before one of his fingers finds his way in one of your belt loops, pushing you to him from there. “Just, please? I don’t want you to go yet, and the few ones we’ve played you’ve been amazing…”

With just the way your eyes softened, darkened and then closed he knew he had been successful. He was biting back that stupid grin that made you smile in defeat every time you saw it.

“Ugh… fine…” He had it on his face as soon as you gave in. Maybe out of excitement, maybe because you were hugging him once again.

“C’mon, we’ll set the table then.” He gleamed, you just tried to muffle a laugh against his chest, enjoying the way his arms wrapped around you.

He grabbed your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, he was the one that had a joyful cheerful aura now, excited that you’d stay longer, even better, playing with him.

He had been talking about you finally joining him for a short, small one-shot campaign ever since he had caught you and Dustin going over the basics of the game. These last few days, though to be honest it had been two weeks, you and him had found a small window of time to be together, and you had spent it building your character, playing a few scenarios, making out before you left and painting. It had been fun, heavenly even, but you told him that it was because it was just the two of you, that you were a bit nervous about actually playing with his friends. He told you that they were just kids, but you made him remember that they were actually teenagers, which is a whole different situation, and that if you were to be their teacher someday, it would be weird. He laughed it off, brushed your hair out of your face and whispered “That’s kinnda hot” You punched him in his chest in a jokingly manner, but he reassured you, as he always did.

You were nervously -perhaps a tint of anxiety on your movements could be seen- playing with the die on your hand. You sat down next to him, even if that spot was usually occupied with Dustin, he agreed to let you there, knowing just how excited Eddie was, and clocking your nervousness.

“You guys ready to play some D&D?” Eddie asked, his hands moviming excitedly through the air.

They all cheered. You looked at them, Mike was gleaming, Will was excitedly nodding, Lucas was drinking some soda, his mouth still smiling, and Dustin looked at you. He mouthed a you’re ready.

That’s all you really needed for now.

Consequently, Lua was having trouble remaining asleep.

She was tossing and turning in her little bed, the quiet voices that left the living room seemed more appealing to her. She knew her dad had some friends over, and that she had to get some sleep, but she wanted to be near to him, and he wasn’t in his bed.

So she did what every kid would have done.

She got up, not minding her knotted hair, or the way her sleeping shirt was a bit too big on her.

She tumbled around her room, opening the door that was left ajar as best as she could, trying to not make a sound. She kept walking following the sound of the warm voices that were gathered around the table. Her eyes finally opened up, and she smiled as soon as she saw you sitting next to her dad.

She reached out, pulling your trousers down so you’d look at her.

“Hi bud, what are you doing up?” You asked her, you reached down, she glowed as soon as he heard your voice, as bright and as soft as ever.

“Can’t sleep.” She muttered, her hand scratching her eye, a little pout on her lips.

You looked up at Eddie, and you saw the way his heart melted, and how he was starting to feel guilty about talking as loud as he had.

“You wanna sit with me?” You asked her, opening your arms so she’ll decide on her own.

You didn’t have to wait long. She threw herself on your arms, waiting for you to pull her up. You placed her down on your lap, your fingers gracing her hair, placing it a bit more neatly. Eddie’s heart was about to burst.

The full table went quiet.

They weren’t used to such an intimate moment of Eddie’s life.

The little scene looked straight from a movie scene, a soft look shared between the both of you, while Lua just melted in your arms a bit more, pushing into you softly.

“Can we continue?” Mike asked, the usual urgency in his voice remained the same.

“Jesus.” Will whispered, the heels of his hands reaching for his forehead.

“What?”

“You really have the emotional range of a teaspoon sometimes, you know?” Lucas added, looking back at his friend, a look in his face that let you know this was something deeper than your little moment.

“Okay, sorry.” Eddie muttered, a little smile to her little girl before he continued. “Your king has just experienced an assassination attempt, the guards have captured some suspects down in the dungeons. Princess, you said you wanted to do something?”

Blood flew straight to her cheeks as soon as the attention was all on you. Lua decided to start playing with your fingers, as if she knew that doing that would help.

“I have seen Sir.Deeptrut on the battleground, right?” Your eyebrows raised as you were talking, a confirmation on Eddie’s face let you know you were right. “And he’s one of the suspects… Could I go down to the dungeons and try to talk to him?”

“You’ll have to make a persuasion check as soon as you get down there, just a heads up.” Will advised you. He had a calm voice, and was always trying to help. You could see just how much he cared, not only about the game, but about everyone that was sitting around the table.

“Why?” You shook your head, your hair tickling Lua’s cheek, making her giggle. Eddie’s lips curved upwards, he felt himself falling in deeper and faster.

“The guards.” Dustin pointed out, looking deep into you. “Unless you use disguise self, they’ll know it’s you, and they probably won’t let you pass. They just tried to uh…” He peered over at Lua, not really wanting to say that word, you just nodded.

“I want them to know it’s me though…” You said back, the kids looked at you, each one of them with a weirder look on their face. “Trust me.”

“You slowly walk down to the dungeons, and at first you realize the small amount of light that creeps in, even if it is a sunny day outside, it feels like midnight down here. The smell of dust and mould hits your nostrils quick. Before you can even move deeper in to find the one you want to talk to, a guard stops you.” Eddie describes it in a beautiful manner, his voice and tone pulling you in deeply, believing every single word, a picture fully painted.

“I demand to speak with Sir.Deeptrut.” You say, in a loud focused voice, avoiding his eyes.

“I’m sorry, your highness. Sir.Deeptrut was accused with an assassination attempt against your father, I would blame you if you came here to uh… finish the job but… I’m afraid I can’t let you in.” He changed his accent to an English one, it made you smile a bit more, discovering something you didn’t know Eddie was capable of doing.

Lua looked up, shocked that her dad could sound like that, not understanding how, Eddie tried to hide his laugh with a little wave at her.

“I just wanna talk to him… please?” You try again.

“Give me a persuasion check.” Eddie used his menacing voice, the one that indicated an important decision.

“Lua?” You asked her, her eyes looking up at you. “You wanna help me roll?” You opened your hand, letting her reach for one of the die. You looked as she grabbed it and threw it on the little wooden box Eddie had left you. “Good job bud!” You praised her as soon as you saw the 19 on the die.

“Jesus, yeah, that’ll do.” Eddie said as soon as he saw the number. Lua chuckled when she saw how happy that had made the two of you. “Princess… He’s a dangerous man.” He used that accent again, the whole table waiting for what your plan is.

“What’s your name?” You narrowed your eyes as you snapped back, your whole attitude changing.

“I’m Liam your highness.”

“Great, so I’ll tell my father that a guard named Liam wouldn’t let me even talk to the man I’m betrothed to.” All of the table opened their mouths in amusement.

“What?” Mike snapped, the first one to do so.

“Betrothed?” Lucas panicked, given he was the one playing the king.

“Just, trust me!” You repeat yourself, even if everyone was looking at you as if you were crazy.

“He just steps back, with his hands in the air, giving you full access to Sir.Deeptrut” Eddie describes in pure amused shock at the chaos you were creating.

“I walk in, and I’m gonna Disguise Self to turn into one of his um… friends?” You half ask as you stifle a laugh. “So he’ll think that me coming as princess was a trick to get in.” You keep explaining your plan. “And then I’ll just get down and try to like, act as if I’m trying to break him free. And say uh… There’s still time for me to finish this, tell me where you got the poison dagger and I’ll finish it myself.”

The whole table felt silent, not really expecting you to do that.

“Oh…God.” Eddie’s face got red, not sure if he found it hot because it had been you doing it, or because it was one hell of a play. “I uh… Shii-ut” He saved himself from cursing as soon as he saw Lua looking up at him with curious eyes. “That’ll be a deception check.” He adds, still bamboozled.

“Lua, you wanna roll again?” You ask her, two dice this time were layed in the palm of your hand. “I’ve got advantage right?”

“Why?”

“Disguise Self, she’s got the actor feet.” Dustin explains in a sort of automotive tone, not really quite believing such a move had come out of you.

“You do.” Eddie confirmed as he nodded, a sense of pride emanating from him.

“C’mon Lua, you’ve got it.” You cheered her as she let the die hit the wooden box. “That’s so good dude!” You praised her once again, a soft kiss left on her cheek as her laughter could be heard. “That’ll be a 24.”

“I… I don’t know where you can get another one, I just… If the primogen of the church got me one, I’m sure he can get you another one, but be wary, that family’s got something odd.”

“You don’t say.” You add in a teasing tone, before raising your eyebrows again, a move that let Eddie know you were about to do something outlandish again. “I want to drop the disguise self and call for the guards. Explain to them how he just confessed and that they have to arrest the primogen.”

“You… you do that.” Eddie finally breaks, as the whole table erupts in panicked laughter and shock that your outlandish plan had worked. “And you see how he just goes ballistic, his full body trying to free himself from the chains as he just yells nonsense in a repetitive manner as he realises just how much you have fooled him.”

“I just wanna reach over to him, close enough to his ear and whisper to him uh… I hope your God hears you now.”

“You have to come play with us more often.” Will says in shock, while Mike just stays there next to him, in shock not really believing you actually did that.

“Lua, you want to go to bed?” You weren’t paying that much attention to the table, nor why it was that impressive. You were more worried about Lua and her head falling as she started falling asleep. “I’ll take her to bed, I’ll come in a minute.” You tell everyone, but mostly Eddie.

He watches you closely, the way your hands hold her with such a delicate manner, the care and sensibility you have in your movements. He reaches for your hand, right before you leave, his thumb caressing the back of your hand in an affectionate touch. You step in a bit closer to him, he stands up so he can leave a short kiss on his daughter’s forehead, right before whispering thank you, a fast kiss on your lips as his dimples appear on his cheeks. He saw you walk into his room, and even if he was supposed to concentrate on the game, he could only think the same thing i never want to see her go.

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