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koneko-pi · 1 year

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You spoil me rotten koneko

What if Fuegoleon x wife s/o telling him she's pregnant? Just all kinds of headcannons about how he is during the pregnancy and labour and how he is after with the baby? Imagine Fuego having a soft and pudgy little daughter😭(ft. Disgusted but happy nozel at how mushy Fuego is being)

I'm still getting used to the whole head cannon concept! I think this came out as a weird inbetween of headcannon and fanfic but i hope you like it nonetheless!

Female S/O x Fuegoleon

Innocent headcannons

900+ word count

Telling Fuegoleon was fun. The most fun you have probably had in a long time. He was really good about surprises, and smart enough that you could actually play little tricks for him to think about, and watching the look on his face as he figured it out made it just as much fun for you as it had been for him.

A while back, when you two had first gotten married, you had bought two small lion stuffed toys. You weren't a child of course but they had your heart immediately when you saw them in that store window, so you snatched them up and brought them to your husband. You joked about how one was you and the other was him, a lion and lioness pair. He appreciated the gesture and gift of course and ever since the two toys had sat neatly and tidy on the guest couch within his office.

Now almost a full year later you were skipping excitedly down the hall of the Crimson lions base to get to his office, a small paper bag gripped tightly in your hands.

You'd greet a few of the squad mates who greeted you back, some jokingly calling you their Crimson Lion Queen.

Inside the office Fuegoleon would be surprised about your visit. You'd quickly close the door so the others wouldn't eavesdrop, and he happily greeted you with a kiss on the cheek.

"What brings you here, my love?" He would ask you. While he did adore your visits there was also the understanding this was work time and he had his image to uphold as a strict captain.

"I'm just bringing this here!" You held the bag up, and he in turn would raise an eyebrow in confusion. "I was too excited to wait for you to come home. Besides, it belongs here!" You spun around. He would hear the sounds of the bag as you pulled something out, made your way to his couch and put something down.

He joined you and saw you had added a smaller lion toy to the pair that had already made their home in the corner of the sofa.

"A third one?" He asked curiously.

"That's right!" You nodded confidently. "It felt appropriate."

He continued to look confused. "But why would we need a third one?" Was it Leopold, who else could it be? After all there was you, him and the third was-

It suddenly dawned on him. His eyes went wide and your grin grew wider too as you watched him. He had figured it out. His head whipped to face you and the excitement brimming from your body was all the answer he needed. He snatched you up so fast and all the mages in the base could hear your excited laughter.

Your first pregnancy was not easy. And Fuegoleon went above and beyond to take care of you. His squad was understanding and helped fill the void that was created by his more regular absences now.

You found yourself weaker and more tired. Your body would ache all over and for most of it you found yourself bed ridden. But it wasn't as bad as it could have been, Fuegoleon stayed with you as much as he could. Leaving for work later on days he went in, and coming back as soon as he could. He would use his magic arm to alleviate the sore muscles of your back, feet or cramping in your stomach. His gentle heat was such a blessing.

He would eat his meals with you in the room, and even do his paperwork in bed. And while it wasn't ideal you still appreciated the hard work he did trying to stay with you. Just his presence alone was a blessing, as not all nobles would bother to go this far for their spouses.

And contradictory to other nobles again once the Little bundle of joy came into the world Fuegoleon spent all the time he could with her. He didn't hire a nanny or anything like it, he wanted to spend time with you and his daughter.

The nights were rough, the little girl screaming at the top of her lungs early in the morning, but that was not something that would deter Fuegoleon. The ever dutiful husband would take care of her issues, even if it meant sitting up for hours at a time in the middle of the night so that she would calm down. Sometimes it was ONLY with him she would finally fall back asleep, as the heat he naturally generated gently lulled her into a drowsy and safe space.

He would lay with her on the bed, play with her and talk to her about his day or all the great things she could have someday, as he would give her whatever she wanted. Within reason of course. Tell her to be careful of Mereoleona but Leopold was ok. Little baby would kick her feet with happy giggles, not understanding a word Fuegoleon was saying but be excited nonetheless and it brought the biggest smile to his face.

He was not the kind of man to bring her to work, but that did not stop friends, family and squad mates from stopping by to congratulate you and see your baby girl.

Nozel would even visit, on account that Fuegoleon would talk often about the little girl he had just had and loved to spoil. Watching Fuegoleon pace around the room, bouncing his baby and talking nonsense to her to make her giggle was a whole new side that Nozel never wanted to see.

Fuegoleon would insist Nozel should hold her but, for his own reasons, Nozel declined. Settling for just watching his friend be soft with the happy little lion cub in his arms. And then mildly disgusted watching the prideful and manly captain being so gushy with the baby. Is this what parenthood is like?

#fuegoleon x reader #black clover x reader #black clover fanfic #black clover headcanons #fuegoleon vermillion #x reader #reader insert #fuegoleon x y/n #black clover fluff

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ishaslife · 7 months

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A Starlit Rendezvous

One-shot

spawn!Astarion x f!oc (noble) Isla

Genre: fluff, fantasy, romance

(*) Check bottom of the post for photos relating to the fanfic.

Summary: Set about 5 years after the game's events; Isla and Astarion are now lauded as heroes of Baldur's Gate. Celebrated for having saved the world from the tyranny of the Absolute. Astarion holds a prestigious position in society but is able to work only at night due to his "sensitive skin condition," people don't question it as they are quite influencial people. The two have been invited to the theater by his colleagues and decide to spend the evening outdoors.

The sun had set in Baldur's Gate, the city looked almost beautiful in the glow of the pink sky and stars had started to show, though not as clearly as they did out in the wilderness during their travel. Isla and Astarion had been living a quiet life since they stopped the Absolute and saved the world. Well, as quietly as they could...

"Are you ready, my dear?" Astarion was dressed in some of his best attire, he liked to look good. Not necessairly to impress anyone, well, maybe his beloved... but simply because he wanted to. After sifting through several doublets, he eventually settled on one – a maroon piece adorned with gold buttons and intricate embroidery.*

"We'll be late if you take any longer" '...even I don't take this long.' Astarion mumbled to himself while adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves.

"Ugh, the carriage won't wait forever, darling!"

"I'm almost there!" Isla called out as she descended the mansion's grand staircase. "Gods, your impatience echoes up to our room," she said with a playful giggle.

Astarion let out a soft sigh as he gazed upon her, his hand instinctively finding its place over his heart. "Oh my darling, you look absolutely breathtaking! Come on, give us a spin." Isla twirled in her rich crimson evening gown, a delicate velvet masterpiece adorned with gold beads and embroidery. Nothing too flashy but eye-catching enough to fit the occasion.* She greeted Astarion with a graceful curtsey, a radiant smile gracing her lips. He gallantly took her hand, planting a gentle kiss on the back of her palm, and then elegantly intertwined her arm with his.

"Shall we?"

"Of course my love, but before we go-" as they were about to step out of the door, she stopped him in his tracks and planted a small peck on his cheek which made his cheeks and the points of his ears redden. He tried his best to hide it with his hand and an awkward chuckle. Despite the years they'd shared, it remained a mystery to her how something as simple as a kiss could still make him fluster, but a sweet mystery nonetheless.

"Time to face the music!" They laughed and entered the carriage. When they finally reached the theater, it was a sight to behold, a grand place that could hold almost the entire elite of Baldur's Gate. After a few greetings, they were led to a comfortable compartment adjacent to Astarion's peers and they watched the play commence. Alone and apart from the rest of the crowd, Astarion reminisced about how different it was compared to his mortal days, even though he could only recall fragments. He marveled at the memories he did retain – the bustling crowd, the diverse characters that frequented the place, their varied walks of life. It was captivating how adept Astarion was at discerning people's social standing, distinguishing the wealthy, the even wealthier, and the wealthiest, and those who merely put on a facade.

He said, "Clever, isn't it? You see, true nobility doesn't flaunt, they don't need to. They don't drape themselves in jewels or don their finest silks for a place as drab and unruly as this. No, they're always anxious, fearing that their precious possessions might vanish. These baubles are their only tether to the pinnacle of privilege after all." he chuckled "Meanwhile, the lower rungs of society will adorn themselves with every trinket, gem, and finery they can find."

He paused for a moment and continued, "not everyone is that complicated of course. There are those like our good selves, who simply dress well because we can."

"true, but why do some go through so much trouble?" Isla asked, she knew the answer of course but she wished to indulge him nonetheless. She liked to hear him talk.

"Well, it's all about ensnaring the gaze of the former, naturally. They aim to wed their offspring to these prestigious houses, securing influence and, of course, money."

"Gods, I hope I wasn't quite so predictable when we first met."

"I had expected you to be, but you... you defied my expectations. You were a delightful suprise I hadn't anticipated. Of course, now you're somewhat more decipherable, but that's only because I've come to know you so well. In those days, I was so confused as to why I couldn't understand you, it drove me insane. But... I suppose that's why I fell for you." He gently took her hand once more and kissed it as the play concluded. However, neither of them paid it much mind, despite Astarion's deep appreciation for the arts. Tonight, his focus was solely on cherishing his beloved.

It was now past evenfall and into the early hours of the night. They had whiled away the evening at the theater and continued their night at a charming pub, where they mingled with the upper echelons of Baldur's Gate's high society. Throughout the evening, they had the pleasure of meeting a handful of actors, although Astarion couldn't help but notice how some of them couldn't seem to avert their gaze, their eyes frequently drawn towards Isla. This stirred a touch of jealousy in him, prompting an impulsive act of intertwining their fingers, giving her a swift peck on her cheek, or casually draping his arm around her shoulder. It was as if he were silently conveying, "Don't even consider talking to her."

As more time slipped away, Astarion and Isla bid their farewells to their acquaintances. They were about to enter into a waiting carriage to return home when Isla paused and said-

"can we perhaps, walk? It's just that... The night is so beautiful, and it feels like ages since we've strolled together, aside from those distant days when we journeyed the Sword Coast."

"Hmm, you're right. It's high time we created some new memories, isn't it?" Astarion replied with a soft smile, the kind that creased the tails of his mouth ever so slightly.

The two of them strolled through the winding streets of Baldur's Gate. The evening was graced with a gentle, warm breeze, and the sky overhead was adorned with a canvas of stars.

"They're beautiful tonight, even if they're not so clear," Astarion remarked, looking at the sky. Isla couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu; it seemed like he had made a similar observation once before.

As they walked hand in hand, they passed by lively street vendors selling exotic wares, their voices carrying the scent of spices and roasted meats. The laughter of revelers spilled out from the bustling taverns and inns, filling the air with a joyous ambiance.

They decided to stop by the upper city gardens to rest their feet. Isla laid her head gently of Astarion's shoulder, he was a little taken by suprise but he didn't mind.

"Ugh, I won't lie, all this walking has made me a little... hungry." Astarion stated, feeling a little tired.

"Don't worry my dear, we'll be home soon. There's plenty of 'wine' waiting for you." Isla replied, a tinge of playfulness in her voice, hinting at their shared secret.

Isla gazed out at the children in the park, even though it was quite late into the night, they continued to play after their dinners. Their parents kept a watchful eye on them from afar while engaging in conversation amongst themselves. A spontaneous smile graced her lips, one that had emerged without her awareness, until she overheard a young boy yell,

"MISTER! MISTER!"

The boy darted up to Astarion, catching them both by surprise. Despite Astarion being seated, the boy stood much shorter and couldn't have been older than 5.

Astarion, a tad confused, inquired, "What is it, little one? Do you need something?"

The boy placed his hands into Astarion's and responded with awe in his eyes, "Sir, I couldn't help but notice your eyes. They're so pretty, they look like rubies. Do you have gems for eyes, mister?"

Astarion, taken aback, struggled for words but managed, "Well... dear boy, my eyes are very much real."

"Really? Can I have a closer look then, mister?"

Isla watched the heartwarming interaction unfold with a gentle smile. Astarion, while still slightly uncomfortable, couldn't help but smile either. He knelt to meet the boy's gaze, allowing him a closer look. Soon, more children joined, their eyes fixed on Astarion's.

After a moment, Astarion, with a hint of playful sternness, quipped, "Are you quite finished with your scrutiny, young ones?"

One of the children spoke, "I hope my eyes are as pretty as yours one day, sir. Mine aren't a unique color like yours."

Astarion, his demeanor softening, said, "Oh, come now, your eyes are beautiful too, like stars in the night sky! Don't wish to be anyone other than yourself, child. Always remember to be strong, fearless, kind, and... well, sweet. Just as you were now." It was a tender moment, one in which Isla realized, she hadn't seen him with children before, and it warmed her heart to witness him in this gentle role.

As the children continued on their way, Astarion settled back beside Isla, a faint but genuine smile lingering on his face. She couldn't help but keep her gaze fixed on him. Astarion finally broke the silence, "You know, perhaps having one of those around wouldn't be such a bad idea."

Isla found herself taken aback by his comment, and her cheeks gave away her bashfulness as they flushed red. Astarion couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction, a fond and affectionate laugh that filled the night. He leaned in and tenderly pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Finally, hand in hand, they began their journey back home, their hearts lighter, and the memories of the evening etched in their souls.

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hikarry · 4 months

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Some people asked me for a fanfic and, welp, your orders are my command. This is just a "quick" thing, not even sure it can be considered a fanfic, but what is done is done.

It's technically my first time writing a one-shot (or any type of proper fanfic, really) for Good Omens, so be nice. I'm sensitive and have a fragile heart.

Alas, welcome to the angst zone.

Crowley has heard Aziraphale's True Voice once and only once. Many many centuries ago. It was loud and spiky like nails in a chalkboard. A terrified and desperate yell that pierced through him like a sword. Ran through his bones like a sudden wave that punched the air out of his lungs. Never in all those centuries had he heard anything more disturbing than it.

He had been in Peterfield for a few weeks now, in the middle of a long job, tempting a priest into the pleasures of gluttony and the flesh. Both of them were in a tavern, debating religion in between glasses of wine when Crowley's head snapped up and he fell quiet, just like a dog when they heard a suspicious noise.

"Mr. Crowley?" Father Brown stopped sipping his glass and looked at his companion. "You've become pale all of a sudden, son. Are you feeling quite alright?"

The yell lasted less than a couple of seconds, but it was echoing inside his head. His body moved without his permission, and before he knew, he was on his feet, glass of wine half full tumbling on the table. His hands shaking beside him and his heart racing inside his chest.

Crowley had never heard anything like it, but he knew it was Aziraphale. He just knew.

"Mr. Crowley?" The priest tried again, this time also getting up, and just then the demon registered his presence again.

"Apologies, Father. I have somewhere else I need to be and I'm afraid It's getting late." Crowley pulled a couple of coins from his pocket and threw them on the table. "This one's on me. Shall we meet when I'm once again free?"

"Of course. You always know where to find me."

He nodded and tried to leave the tavern as fast as he could without running, slithering through tables and patrons until he reached the door. He hadn't brought a horse. Satan knows he despises those animals. Not very gentle on the behind, they are. But right now, he was in need of one, desperately so.

Last he heard, Aziraphale had been in Sussex meddling around with some noble family, so that's exactly where he was going to go. Father Brown could wait. It's not like Beelzebub gave him an expiring date. Even if they had, bless all of this. He could handle a week or two in a pit for failing the mission. His priority right now was the angel.

Crowley stole the first horse he saw and galloped in the general direction of Sussex. It would be a long ride, no under three hours, but he would do everything to get there - wherever "there" was exactly - as soon as he could. If he hears Aziraphale's True Voice once again in that state of agony, he might as well lose his mind.

To prove God was really against him, it started raining heavily halfway through the journey. Crowley brushed his hair back, away from his forehead, with one hand while the other held the reins. With all this, he hadn't brought his cape, and now both him and the horse were soaked to the bone and quite exhausted. If it wasn't for a few miracles, he was quite sure the horse would have stopped to rest a while ago.

He snapped, and an invisible shield covered them, keeping the freezing rain away. The road was turning into mud, which would slow them down considerably, but he had to keep going. There was no way in Heaven he would stop until he reached Sussex.

Through forests and small villages, they were like an arrow. Supernaturally fast and focused. His hands had somewhat stopped shaking, but his heart was still hammering, replaying the noise over and over again in his head. He had saved the angel before. For some reason, he was prone to get himself in a spot of trouble every 200 years or so, but the danger had never been enough to force his True Voice out. True Voices were only used in cases of extreme urgency. For humans, it sounded like a screech, but angels and demons could understand them. Something said in your True Voice was like a command, and yet Aziraphale hadn't said anything, he just yelled. Whatever it was that was happening could only be bad. Very bad.

When he finally crossed the line into Sussex, he pulled the reins to stop the horse. Looking around the forest, he pooled his senses to try and find Aziraphale's essence. The last thing he needed was Aziraphale not to be in Sussex anymore and for this trip to have been useless, but no. Right at the edge of his vision, there was the brightness he has been mingling with for millenia. Crowley pulled on the horse again and followed the angel's essence into the other side of the city, deep into the forest.

Both of them came to a stop at the mouth of what appeared to be a small cave. It was covered with some greenery, but nothing that could stop him.

Crowley dismounted and tapped the horse on the side of his neck for the good job, partly unconciously. With a hand, he pushed the greenery to the side and stepped carefully into the cave, the useless invisible shield breaking over him. He stopped for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the darkness and kept silent, trying to hear something. Anything. He was sure Aziraphale was here. His essence was very close, and he could feel his distress rolling out of him in waves. Crowley took some steps forward, as silently as possible, until he started hearing what sounded like multiple voices. He stopped, laying his hand against the wall of the cave, and tried to discern whatever they were saying, but the cave was making it difficult. He closed his eyes for a moment and reached with his senses once again. Indeed, there was the angel, and with him 8 demonic presences. Low ranking demons.

He took a deep breath, punching the wall. Whatever they had been doing to the angel to cause him to lash out with his True Voice, he was going to kill them.

No. Okay. If they were humans, yes, he wouldn't shy away from a little murder, but demons is a more tricky situation. If he attacked them, it would be suspicious. He had to figure out a way to send them packing without giving his hand away.

Another deep breath, and he kept moving, this time trying to make his steps echo on purpose. As he got closer, the voices got louder.

"Try again."

"It's useless! He's out of it, they won't come out!"

There was some light at the end of a tunnel to the left, and he followed it, the voices suddenly going quiet.

The scene he saw as soon as he turned the corner iced his blood and boiled his anger at the same time.

Aziraphale was pinned to the wall by some silver chains, his feet a few centimeters off the ground. His head was hanging down, and his shirt was shredded, soaked in red blood, just like his trousers and his blond hair. His corporation wasn't breathing. He was probably very close to discorporating and Crowley was running out of time.

"Here you are!"

The 8 demons turned towards him, their eyes widening somewhat comically.

"Crowley?" The smaller one muttered, taking a step back from the angel.

Crowley took a few more steps inside, approaching the group while pretending to look around, his hands behind his back.

"I heard some demons had invaded my territory." He looked up at Aziraphale, willing his heart to control itself. "And I've seen you've captured an angel."

"Yes. We've been tracking him for weeks." A woman shaped demon said, quite proud of herself, pointing at the angel. "Took us a while, but we managed to poison him so he would fall unconcious and brought him to the circle." Just then Crowley's eyes fell to the floor where, indeed, there was a circle drawn. He took a step closer, to inspect it. A circle to drain energy. With Aziraphale's sigil. They were really trying to kill him.

Crowley swallowed and closed his hands into fists. He had to control himself and get Aziraphale out of that circle soon. He had been there for over 3 hours, at the very least, and Crowley didn't know how much more energy he would have left to keep himself alive. This wasn't about discorporation anymore.

"You sound very proud of yourself." He finally looked at the demons, stopping between them and Aziraphale. "But I ask you: who ordered you to do this?"

"He's just a principality. It's not like there aren't plenty in Heaven to replace him. No one would miss him up there and, besides-"

The demon took a sudden step forward, taking the sunglasses away from his face and pinning all of them down with his yellow gaze, no white whatsoever to be seen there, pupils barely but a black thin line.

"I'm here, am I not?" When the demons didn't answer, he leaned forward, fangs growing on his mouth. The group took a step back. "This is my jurisdiction, and you have no permisssssion to be here." Another step forward, another step back from the group. "If someone is going to kill an angel, it's going to be me and not some lowly bottom of the barrel demons like you."

"But that's not fair! We had-" Crowley hissed and brought his hands to the side of his body, all his fingers morphed into claws, urging the demon talking to jump back.

"You're very mistaken if you think Hell issss fair." He looks at every single one of them. "Do you even have permisssssion to be upsssside?" The demons looked amongst themselves, but no one answered. "That'ssss what i thought." He took a final step forward, coming face to face with the closest of them. "Get the fuck out of here before I inform Beelzebub you uselesssss piecessss of flessssh have been sssscrewing around in my territory without permisssssion." Everyone stared at him, but no one moved. "NOW!" He yelled and the group trembled before being swallowed by the earth and disappearing.

Not losing time, Crowley walked the few steps that separated him from the angel and broke the circle with his boot, reaching up to the chains to free him, carefully using his own body to support Aziraphale when his limp corporation toppled forward.

With a snap of his fingers, he miracled a blanket and carefully lied Aziraphale on it, kneeling by his side to assess the situation. His wounds needed to be tended to but most of it was normal red blood. His nose and his mouth were the only ones running ichor, which wasn't a great sign. Crowley Looked at Aziraphale and was met with a less bright than usual light, but bright nonetheless. With a sigh, he let himself relax. Aziraphale was going to be fine. He just needed to rest while Crowley fed him some of his energy and get his corporeal wounds tended to. He would be fine. He wasn't too late.

Aziraphale was going to be fine.

But now here they were, centuries later, in the same position: Aziraphale laying unconcious on the floor of some basement in the middle of nowhere in Scotland and Crowley kneeling next to him, hovering his still figure with his hands on the angel's face.

Aziraphale had disappeared for a week and a half while he had gone back to London to check on the bookshop and Muriel and bring some more books to the cottage.

Crowley had searched for him everywhere as soon as he didn't come back home at dinner time, and after he went to check the bookshop where Muriel told him Aziraphale had never showed up.

He had used his senses to try and find him, but he could barely feel him. Something was masking his location, and this was driving him up the walls. After 2 years of pure peace and quiet, chaos had to follow them again? Was it Heaven again? Was it Hell? He didn't know, but he would tear them apart if any of them had anything to do with this.

Crowley had no other choice but to reach out to Anathema for help. With a map, a few herbs, one of Aziraphale's bowties, and a liquid that honestly smelled like a cadaver, she managed to pinpoint his location to a small town near the frontier with Scotland.

He didn't lose any time.

In the Bentley with Anathema and Adam (because both insisted on coming and he had no time to convince them it was a stupid and useless idea), he sped from Tadfield to that middle of nowhere as fast as demonically possible without discorporating himself and killing the humans. It took him roughly 5 hours and a lot of law breaking, but they eventually arrived and found a house in the middle of a village with a very weird and heavy aura, or so Anathema said.

After a couple of hours of observing, Crowley lost his patience and invaded the house, consequences be damned. If Anathema turned out to be mistaken, he would wipe the humans' memories out, but, by luck, she wasn't.

The house was the headquarters of some slimy cultists with a bit too much knowledge about supernatural forces and ambition. As soon as he stepped through the main door, he smelled the ichor, and his vision went red. He ran, following the smell and shoving anyone who tried to stop him out of his way.

He kicked the door of the basement open and that's where he found Aziraphale unconcious, laying on the ground in the middle of a summoning circle with two men around him.

Crowley hissed, and his wings appeared out of the eather. With a snap, both men were tossed against the wall with such brute force both fell unconcious.

"Angel!"

Just like all those centuries ago, Crowley almost ran to the angel and broke the circle with his boot, tossing himself onto the floor next to him. This time, there wasn't red blood anywhere, and his clothes were almost as pristine as always, but there was ichor running down his mouth, his nose, and his ears. Confused, Crowley looked around at the circle, and his eyes fell in a couple of markings that should not be in a normal summoning circle. They had turned it into a draining circle at some point.

Back in the 6th century, Aziraphale had only been inside the circle for around 3 hours, and he recuperated in less than a week. His corporations' wounds had been the biggest problem, really. Crowley had to play nurse to keep him from discorporating. But a week and a half? Satan knows what that would do to an angel's essence.

Before he could check, he heard steps coming down the stairs, and soon enough, four other humans showed up at the door. Crowley positioned himself on top of Aziraphale, knees and hands on each side of his body, allowing his fangs to grow on his mouth as he hissed and used his wings to cover the angel the best he could.

"A demon?" One of them said, giving a step back.

Before any of them could say anything else, Crowley watched as Adam and Anathema appeared at the door, the kid punching one of the man in the face and the Witch using a frying pan to knock another of them unconcious. With a wave of Crowley's hand, the last two remaining were tossed against the window and fell unconcious as well.

"Are you okay?" Anathema asked, stepping closer, and Crowley hissed, out of instinct.

Adam joined her, kneeling a few feet away from the demon.

"Aziraphale?"

Crowley looked down at the still unconscious angel, and his wings disappeared. Carefully, he kneeled on the other side of Aziraphale and finally Looked at him. Part of him wished that he hadn't because what he saw wasn't pretty. Aziraphale was barely a flicker of light, and he was flickering like anything. Crowley gasped involuntarily, and now here they were: the demon leaning over the angel, holding his face between his hands.

"What's wrong? Did they hit him?" Adam asked.

"No..." Anathema carefully leaned beside him. "They turned the summoning circle into a drain. They were draining Aziraphale's energy and essence and probably planning on using it to power up spells or rituals or something."

"Is that bad?"

They kept talking, but Crowley was not listening anymore. His heart was ringing on his ears and his whole body was shaking. It was very hard to breath at the moment. This bloody basement didn't have air enough.

"Angel?" Now, with his fangs also gone, he reached out with his demonic essence, but nothing reached back. Closing his eyes, he tried to poor some of his energy into the angel like he had done all those years ago, but the essence kept flickering, maybe even more than before. "No, no, no, no. Aziraphale, you bastard, don't do this to me." He opened his eyes again and shook him. "Wake up." Nothing. "Wake up!"

"Crowley-" Anathema tried to lay her hand on his shoulder, but he slithered away from her touch.

"Come on, Aziraphale. I didn't come all the way here for you to keep flickering!" He stopped shaking him for a moment, Looking once again. The light appeared to be slowly dimming. "Angel, it's okay. I found you. Just wake up so we can go home!" He kept pouring energy into him, both hands now grabbing handfuls of Aziraphale's waistcoat. "Aziraphale!"

"Is there something you can do?" Anathema looked at Adam, and Crowley's attention fell momentarily on him as well.

Adam shook his head.

"I don't have any more powers. And even if I did, I don't know if I could actually do something about an angel's essence."

Crowley held Aziraphale's clothes more tightly and looked back at him. He didn't know what to do. Giving him energy worked last time, but now it was doing close to nothing. Aziraphale couldn't be too far gone. He refused to believe that. They couldn't have stopped the Apocalypse and the bloody Second Coming for it to end like this. Because of some stupid humans.

Slowly, a few more drops of ichor fell from his lips, and his chest stopped rising.

Crowley held his breath as he felt moisture take over his eyes. This isn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't going to lose him like this.

"Aziraphale, open your eyes! Open your fucking eyes!" His True Voice slipped through and both Anathema and Adam got up with their hands on their ears, taking a few steps back. "I'm not going to lose you like this!" He pulled on his clothes, slightly lifting Aziraphale off the ground. "Wake up, Aziraphale!" He could feel the tears escaping from his eyes and running down his face, even under the glasses, but at the moment he didn't care. "Wake up right now!"

Suddenly, Aziraphale's eyes sprung open and the angel took a deep breath, coughing up some ichor in the process. Crowley quickly but carefully let his back lay on the ground again and leaned over him, both his hands on each side of his face. Adam and Anathema didn't move from where they were, watching from afar.

Aziraphale tried to talk but choked on ichor, and Crowley ran his thumb down his cheek, wiping some of the ichor from the corner of his mouth. It burned, but he didn't care.

"Don't speak, angel. It's okay." He leaned his forehead on the angel's and felt him pushing up to try and meet him halfway. "I found you. You're okay."

"Is there anything we can do to help?"

Crowley looked up to the two humans that he forgot were still present for a moment.

They needed to leave this place and go back to the South Downs, but he was afraid if he let go of Aziraphale and stopped feeding him energy, he would lose him again. For that, he needed one of them to drive the Bentley so he could go on the back with Aziraphale, but...Crowley didn't like the idea of anyone else besides himself or the angel driving his car.

He looked back down at Aziraphale, his eyes now half lided, but clearly still trying to keep himself awake.

Crowley pulled the keys to the Bentley from the pocket of his trousers and tossed them to Anathena, who barely caught them.

"I need you to drive us back home. I'm going on the back with Aziraphale to try and keep him stable through the trip."

"Are you sure that's wise? Isn't there anything else we can do to make him somewhat bett-"

"If there was, I would be doing it right now, Book Girl!" He snapped, when he felt Aziraphale's hand on his forearm, squeezing it. He looked back at him before looking up at the woman once again. "Last time resting and sharing my energy with him solved it. I don't know what else could help."

"Maybe one of your books has a spell to speed up the process?" Adam asked.

"We will only know if we check." She swinged the keys on her finger. "Alright, let's go back to England then."

And so they did. The journey was somewhat uneventful. By now, it was the middle of the night, and Adam ended up falling asleep on the passenger seat. Aziraphale, laying in the back seat with his head on Crowley's lap, fought sleep as best he could, keeping his eyes open mostly for Crowley's sanity than anything else. He managed to talk somewhat at some point during the trip, saying Crowley's name, but the same told him, once again, not to talk while running his fingers through the angel's hair.

"You will be okay, angel. I promise."

And he did, almost 2 months later and after a lot of resting, energy sharing, and a couple of spells, courtesy of one Anathema Device. At the end of the day, it was quite the scare, but Aziraphale was once again strong and full of light, and Crowley intended to keep him that way.

#good omens fanfic #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #anthony j crowley #crowley good omens #aziraphale good omens #adam young #anathema device

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rielzero · 6 months

Note

Just saw your post about ascended Astarion and male Tav fanfic. I am willing to rise to the challenge

If you need any prompts! here's some concept I've danced with in my head (up for anyone to use) inspired by my own character's potential AUs. Please do not claim ownership over the ideas, I'd love to see people's different spins. Please keep it to Male Tav, there's so many Female Tav fics out there already- I had ideas specifically with a male character in mind. M x M focus is preferred. I'm not bi or pan, so anything hinting to tav being exclusively gay is nice.

THESE ARE all PROMPTS / IDEAS not demands. I'm not here to control anyone's creative progress :V

I'm just a nerd be nice

Brain Damage Tav has used the tadpole powers but refuses to become half-illitid and keeps it how it is. Tav ascends Astarion- but is convinced by Jaheira or someone else that he is incapable of feeling love now and becomes afraid of him- (Astarion still is very much capable of love) Astarion responds of course like a scorned ex, and lies through his teeth when the break up happens and breaks tav's heart. Timeskip- it is revealed Tav's altered brain still has mindflayer powers, but because of the trauma of the final fight he suffers from severe memory loss and pretty much got themselves in a position were he is dying- only for Astarion to come around and save him by turning him- then be met with guilt and over-protectiveness when he realizes Tav does not remember their time together anymore. (would work for a series, this concept is what I intend to use for an AU of my character but it would be very different.) Lots of angst but soft ascended astarion towards male tav :3 very gentle- very protective.

You were There too AU were Tav was kept by Cazador but never turned, just kept as a snack- so Astarion knows him and they may have fallen in love during that time. During the ritual Cazador threatens to replace Astarion with Tav- Astarion goes feral.

I forget you're an Urchin Playing into the fact that Astarion was a corrupted Noble- knows what luxury life is like- inspired by how my tav is an urchin and very unfamiliar with luxury- Tav is Astarion's consort- but is very awkward not knowing ANYTHING about noble life, from etiquette to wearing jewelry and fancy garbs. Wholesome stuff- Probably lots of fluff. Astarion spoiling Tav and showing him off.

Three of them AU were Gale and Astarion and Tav are a in a polycule, after ascension Astarion becomes a little overly possessive over Tav- Gale notices a bit late and feels left out, but supports his loved ones new life goals... Of world domination.

I'm married, get over it Au were male tav has an horrible ex who breaks in the mansion because he thinks tav is enslaved to Astarion- but he's not- He's just as evil as Astarion. And they're very affectionate- Astarion enjoys rubbing it into the ex's face. Extra points if the ex is a human cleric, paladin, or bard with too much facial hair. (COUGHS)

Warlock? cool Any fic that plays into the warlock theme openly for tav, not similary to Wyll- all though I don't want to restrict anyone to a specific type of patron. (my patron is a great old one) keep in mind there's warlock patrons outside of the subclasses in the bg3 game if you need inspiration. If tav's patron is female, give them a mother-son kind of bond since tav is gay.

Other, Tropes I like described vaguely cuz my brain stoopid but ideas that can be expanded into one fic or more -oh shit you're dying don't worry I can fix it with a bite -you're so beautiful I want a 100 paintings of you akjdkhgkfhgk -The gods literally made you to ruin me god damn it I should've known -tav is small / fragile looking man but he can stab you 100 times over -tav can sing, or is creative but he doesn't like sharing this side of him (loki is 100% exactly this lol) hes easily embarrassed -tav is internally panicking because he is very very very gay. -tav has scars too and is very insecure about his body. -overprotectiveness, lots of handholding keep you close kinda stuff -wholesome physical affection, does not have sexual implications even if they talk dirty or flirt silly -words being used like petite, twink- or cute in the right context. -maybe a fic focussing on tav being half elf and the struggles that come with it. Otherwise leave race up to reader. -Tav was already a vampire before they met, or is a dhampir -Astarion and tav knew each other 200 years ago -I will pet you aggressively and affectionally and you will like it -who the fuck are you drawing? wait thats me??? oh -Astarion is creative too and might doodle. -love at first sight but in denial.. cuz its funny -tav has insomnia and needs cuddles... -tav is a necromancer and familiar with vampire lore. -anything reflecting the vampire bride/groom lore in a scene. (there's a reddit post explaining this) -Vampire hunters coming after tav in attempt to hurt Astarion because he's become pretty untouchable -Vampire Tav does not want to feed on his victims because he finds that too intimite -Vampire tav is a vampire lord too- but not an ascended one- and he isn't corrupted by greed. -Astarion technically can compel Tav, but has no desire to do so and voices this openly to anyone who tries to argue Tav is a slave. -If Astarion hurts tav by accident in any way he feels horrible and will shower him in gifts or thousands of love language things just to affirm that it was an oopsie and he did not want to do that. He'd never do that willingly. -consent consent consent anything with consent- love language is consent -tav was a sex worker himself before they met but not anymore -lots of fluff stuff -scheming husbands plotting the downfall of the world together, bonus points if tav is the mastermind and a genius -Polycule with Gale, either as Triad, or Triangle -Admiring from afar, staring- lots of staring- intense consential staring -astarion beating up tav's abusers while tav sips from a chalice like a spoiled consort -dramatic vampire parties and all the normie vampire lords are scared of Astarion and his consort -vampire politics are kind of like ballroom hissing contests with fancy banquets and showing off your partner -I will go feral if someone hurts or touches you -steer clear of the consort, or the master will gut you -jealous vampire lord tries to seduce tav but tav is very loyal to astarion and not having it -astarion gets a cleric or powerful mage in his court just to revive tav if tav dies -You offended my husband? I'm setting your village on fire -Everyone thinks the consort tav is weak- but the consort might actually be more dangerous oh no -None of the above lines have to be necessarily restricted by ingame universe, can all be AU- does not have to include the whole mindflayer drama. Rule of Cool.

Avoid these please? I personally dislike that -misgendering tav (babygirl, queen, girly, strictly effeminate- any words that might demasculinize tav, as a gay man this stuff makes me really uncomfortable) -Overly describing tav's features as if they're set without leaving it open to the reader (long hair, skin color, favorite colors, etc) -Astarion knew tav when tav was still a child and Astarion was an adult. -Astarion abusing tav physically, just.. Please no. -...they're teenagers in high school... *dies* -brainwashing.. No offense to people who like some tropes I don't- You're fine :V We all have different tastes!

Headcanons for how Ascension works that you can use (inspired by ingame dialogue and such) -Tav isn't a regular spawn, but a vampire groom- He was turned differently, not buried for 2 days. Astarion can sense Tav is in danger if he is a groom, or sense strong emotions from him. -Tav is not immune to sunlight unless he stays in close range of Astarion. (based on dialogue) -Astarion might be a bit warmer to the touch since he is a living vampire now. He does not have to feed on blood- but Tav still requires blood and is cold to the touch.

Might edit this post later with more.

#bg3 #male tav #astarion x male tav #astarion x male reader #prompts #these are some of my preferences #vampire #ascended astarion #astarion bg3 #fanfiction #fanfic prompts #ideas

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asthmatic-artz · 11 months

Text

His Theme, Her Dream. (Giorno Giovanna)

➜ Childhood friends torn apart, when they reunite, someone tries to stop their dreams from coming true.

➜ Prince! Giorno Giovanna x Reader

➜ class difference, bullying, attempted murder, jealously, slight obsession.

➜Hiii, I hope you enjoy my first fanfic! I have two more planned! But I hope you like this one!

"Hey Giorno…"

"Yea n/n?"

Two children sat on the pier, looking out into the beautiful ocean. A shooting star passed by, prompting a conversation.

"If I tell you my wish, promise you won't laugh at it?.."

"Why would I laugh? Go ahead!"

A small sigh was let out before the young (h/c) girl laid her head on his shoulder.

"When we grow up, I want to be a pretty princess…and…" She trailed off.

"Huh? I can't hear you."

"...I said I want you to be my prince…"

It was silent for a bit before the young male broke out into giggles, earning a playful shove from his counterpart.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't laugh at it!"

His laughs finally subsided and he pulled her back on his shoulder.

"No…it's funny…"

"Because that's my wish too.."

‐—-----------------------------------------------------

"Didn't think this would be how we see each other again..sucks to be you."

You stared in silence as you stood across from your childhood bully.

Today was supposed to be a special day. Being chosen as one of the suitors for the Queen's Sons.

But of course life finds a way to fuck you over in the end.

Ariana and you were both from a smaller village on the outskirts of the kingdom called Atria. It was a beautiful town filled with flowers and beautiful scenery that made for a great vacation spot. It was rare when the royal Court came here as barely anything happened in your small village.

So you were surprised when King Brando herself entered the town and handpicked women he deemed good enough to be his son's suitors.

He was surprisingly nicer than legends had led on. He examined you, coming up upon you while you were sewing a dress for your mother. He demanded that you come with him and you were going to resist but your mother urged you on with a smile.

But that's beside the point. The main issue was Ariana.

She made it her life's mission to make your life a living hell ever since you were young. She would trip you up, pour dye on your dresses, destroy displays you've made for the village, tease you until you cry, make your friends leave you. Anything you could think of she would do to you just because she saw herself as higher.

Ariana was the daughter of a wealthy noble who moved to the capital, and routinely sent money back to his daughter. She was a spiteful Ravenette with blue eyes and had an attitude as if she was better than everyone else.

You were not expecting her to be here. Well, kinda.

You knew her daddy dearest was gonna work some magic so she could be one of the ones chosen.

She was about to say something else before the other girls came in.

You glanced around and noticed that there were a total of 4 other girls besides you and Ariana. One of them you knew already as she was your only friend left. Her name was Trish Una, a kind pink haired girl coming from the capital, with her dad being one of the many royal advisors underneath King Brando.

The other three were huddled around Ariana so you were assuming they all knew each other.

Fucking great. Not only did you have to Ariana and her bullshit, but three others who were gonna follow in her fucking foosteps.

Following behind them was King Brando.

He was a blonde with fierce red eyes, he was built nicely and was tall as hell. It was a rare think for him to suddenly hold this suitor selection for his son. But you assumed it was because he wanted to prepare his son for the throne.

Behind him was Enrico Pucci, his right hand man and the top Priest of the land.

He was a male with Grey hair with dark brown eyes. He had a kind expression on his face as he gave a gentle wave to you all.

He held different tiaras in his arms, all of them were the same except one.

You watched as he went around and placed them all on the others in their hands before coming to you and placing the last one in your hands.

Glancing around you quickly noticed something.

Yours was the only different one.

'Great, mine is the only different one. fuck me…'

"Lift your head up." You listened and were met with the stern face of the king.

He took the tiara from you hand and placed the jewelry on your head and began to speak.

"Attention ladies. You all with silver crowns are ladies in waiting." He then gestures to you.

"The golden tiara represents the one that has been chosen as the next princess and possibly future Queen. The one to continue my legacy with my son."

There was a chorus of gasps, quickly followed by murmuring and whispers.

Ariana glared at you with seething hatred in her eyes.

You however, were about to shit bricks. This woman basically just put a bounty on your head. Why were you chosen?! There were plenty of other girls here that were more capable than you.

You wanted to curl up and cry, but you couldn't as the woman was now leading you away to go and meet the princes.

"HOWEVER" The kings loud booming voice cut through the murmurs and whispers.

"One can easily lose their spot if I deem you unworthy. And trust me I can do it as easily as I gave it to you."

Great. So now you basically have a big ass bounty on your head. Because with that announcement you could feel the sets of eyes on you.

You knew they would do just about anything to steal that crown from you.

Your luck just couldn't have gotten any better.

—------------------------------------------------------

You were waiting in a pretty bedroom that you were told would be the room you shared with your future prince to be.

You were nervous beyond belief.

You didn't know what to expect from the future king but you couldn't help be afraid. What if he didn't like you? What if you did something to piss him off and he would have your title stripped away or worse!?

You heard rumors about how fierce he was, following in his fathers. footsteps. He was a force to be reckoned with, and if he was anything like his father.

Your life meant little. He would easily cast you to the dungeon to die.

You were terrified,your mind was racing. Were you even good enough??? What if you didn't do something right???

Why you??

So many things were running through your heard that you didn't realize the door had opened.

"Y/n?"

Your heard a soft, familiar call of your name and your eyes widened. A voice you hadn't heard since your childhood rung in your ears as memories replayed in your head.

"Gio..?"

There in the doorway, looking way different from how he used to was the Prince.

Or rather…

Your childhood bestfriend, Giorno Giovanna.

When you were younger, you had met Giorno when he had jet black hair.

He was a shy and timid boy, living with his mother in the village of Atria. Giorno was always around you, protecting you from harm's way even if he ended up harming himself. He would stop Ariana's harsh bullying and even stuck up for you when someone placed the blame on you.

He would spend nights at the dock, looking up to the stars and dreaming of the future.

So how in the hell did he end up being the prince?!

You shot up from your spot and ran up to him pulling him into a hug. You let out an excited noise and swayed him side to side.

Giorno let out an excited chuckle as he followed in your motions, gripping you as if you were going to disappear if he let go.

The two of you stood their in silence until Giorno pulled away finally, a bright grin on his face, sparkles in his emerald green eyes.

"You look…" He starts, moving his hands down to grab yours."..amazing.." He says finally pulling away and holding your hands.

"Didn't think we would meet like this…"

He chuckles before smirking a bit. "Guess your wish is about to come true, My Princess.." You blushed in embarrassment, playfully smacking his arm. He only laughed at your action.

"Shush! You still remember that?"

Giorno nodded, his gaze softening,

"How could I forget…."

He moved one of his hands underneath your chin to meet your gaze.

"It's when I fell in love…" He stated before placing his soft, plump lips against yours.

Your eyes widened but slowly fluttered closed as Giorno pulled you closer into his arms.

Giorno pulled away with a lovesick expression on his face, "You don't know how long I've waited for this moment.."

He pulled away slightly. "When I found out my dad was the king, I wanted to run and tell you immediately. But my mom shipped me off quickly, not wanting to deal with me anymore and used that as an excuse to get rid of me." He says, his gaze moving to the floor.

"I didn't know if I was ever gonna see you again.." He expresses gripping your hands tightly.

You look up into his eyes, you swear you could see Hearts in them as he spoke again.

"I will keep my promise to you, (n/n)"

‐—---------------------

You should've expected this.

None of the other ladies in waiting would talk to you.

None of them.

They all glared at you with distasteful looks. Their eyes were filled with jealousy and hate. They looked like if you had just stolen all the men in the damned country and left them none.

But it wasn't like there wasn't other princes. You knew there were alot more!

Hell ever Giorno's advisors were really attractive!

There was Mista, He was just like Giorno, calculated in the way he did things, he often helped Giorno out with things in the kingdom, guiding him with the instructions his father gave. He also had a weird fear of the number four that cause him to actively avoid the other girls when their were huddled together. Giorno said it was just a superstition he had.

Then there was Narancia and Fugo. Narancia was another of Giorno's friends from the Village and he wanted to help him up, and Fugo was brought in by King Brando to be alongside Narancia.

Narancia was a sweetheart, he was a breath of fresh air in this palace when everyone was so serious and scary.

Fugo was a bit cold at first, but when you started to come around more he warmed up to you and treated you like a sister.

And lastly their was Leone and Bruno. The two of them were a pair and were older than you all. They assisted Giorno whenever he had to go out of the Kingdom to visit his relatives over in the Joestar Kingdom. Bruno was a gentle soul and Leone was just like Fugo, he had to warm up to you. But nowadays you find yourself going to them when you have a problem.

But when not around Giorno, you found yourself spending time with Trish. The two of you were catching up as the only time you got to see her is when you would go to the capital for your mother's medicine. She was worried for you though. She didn't like the way that Ariana and the others were always watching you. Glaring at you as if they were plotting something against you.

You told Trish not to worry about it, and that you would keep your eyes peeled for any sneaky shit that they tried.

I mean you were the jewel of the palace, as King Brando so affectionately referred to you as. You were close to the King as well, sometimes having book reading sessions with him when not attending to your duties with Pucci.

Maybe that would explain why they "hated" you-

"Hey you!"

Your eyes widened as you saw Ariana, Melissa, Uko and Hera all standing there. You froze for a bit.

"We're talking to you!"

You quickly turned on your heels to go back the way that you came.

"Don't run now!"

You heard multiple footsteps come up behind you before you felt hands on your back.

"HEY SKANK ANSWER US WHEN WERE TALKING TO YOU"

You were shoved harshly and grabbed by the arms.

"W-wait huh? Guys what is going on?!?"

Ariana sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. "Oh shut it. You're gonna spend some time with us. Since you forgot, we are your ladies in waiting" She said with a sickly sweet tone.

You were dragged into an empty room that was closed off.

They threw you to the floor and circled around you.

"You think you're better than the rest of us just because you're set to marry Giorno?!" Ariana yelled before taking her foot and stomping down on your arm.

You cry out in pain, trying to move but the others were holding you down by your hands and legs. They all laughed at your pain, only taunting your please for them to stop

"Not only that, you're around here hanging out with the others…knowing that they are ours!!" Ariana brought her foot down in the same spot multiple times. Your cries were being masked by the laughing and giggling at the pain being inflicted on you.

Ariana scoffed at your weakened state before beckoning Melissa over.

"Hey you. Hand me that stick over there."

The stick in question was a cane, one that you've seen King Brando walk with whenever he had business outside the castle

Ariana picked it up and smirked down at you. "I'm going to hit you until I feel like it's a good time to stop. Maybe then you’ll learn that common trash like you doesn't belong in the castle ."

You didn't even have time to respond before you were hit in the stomach with the cane.

You screamed in pain as she continues to bring the cane down on you. She repeatedly swung the cane down onto your stomach not caring about the desperate pleas you let out.

The other three just simply looked down at you. This was their revenge against you.

Ariana chuckled before lining up the cane with your head before bending down to your level.

"I hope you enjoyed your time as princess…" She started as she wound back.

"..Because it's over…"

The last thing you heard was a sickening Crack before it all went dark.

—-----------------------

"GioGio!"

Giorno hopped down out his mother's arms and ran over to his best friend, capturing her in his arms.

He could hear his mother's voice as she told him. "Be back before dark.."

He nodded and grabbed the (h/c) girls hand and ran over to the flower field.

The two of them flopped down into the flowers, just taking in each other's presence.

The silence was comforting, knowing that their friend was right beside them.

"I wanna be with you forever, (n/n)..."

The (h/c) girl smiled as she looked over at her friend

"I wanna be with your forever too, GioGio.."

Forever and Always…

—-----------

"Giorno."

"Giorno!"

"GIORNO GIOVANNA!"

The male snapped out his daydream, looking over to a concerned Trisha and Mista.

"You seen (Y/n)?" Mista asked first then Trish spoke name

"She was supposed to meet me outside in the courtyard! I was gonna help her pick out her wedding dress!”

Giorno paused, he'd nearly forgotten that his coronation was in two days.

He would take over for his father so that could relax in his older years, not that his father would listen to that anyways…

Not only that, he would finally be able to marry his childhood sweetheart, and fulfill the wish that they made years ago.

"No, Pucci said it was her free day today, so she was doing her own thing."

Giorno stood up, "She might be in her room, let's go check. She usually gets caught up in reading the books my Father recommends"

Giorno led Trisha and Mista down the hallway.

He was nervous as all hell. He finally got to marry you! Fulfilling the childish promise from those years ago.

He wanted to be the best for you, he wanted nothing but the best for you.

"Y/n? Trish was wait-"

The Prince stopped mid sentence.

Your room was a mess, stuff was flung everywhere and things were destroyed. And most importantly..

You were missing.

Giorno rushed in, Mista and Trisha quickly followed behind.

"Quick!! Someone tell Father that My Wife is missing!!"

The two quickly turned to go and do as their friend/prince ordered.

Giorno began to search around your room for anything that would give clues to where you could've been taken.

The poor male has not felt such panic since his younger years and he hated the feeling. He couldn't lose you when he was so close to completing his dream with you!

He began searching through your books before finding a letter that slipped out from a book.

Picking it up, he saw that it was a letter, or better yet, a page from a diary or notebook.

When he read the page, he could feel his blood boil.

Dear Diary,

Ariana and the others have been being extremely rude to me recently. They keep whispering about some plan they were going to enact soon.

I'm trying my best to stay close to Trish but she has her own duties as one of my ladies in waiting.

And I cannot burden Giorno to King Brando with this.

I hope that this will come to pass.

Y/n Giovanna.

Future Princess of the Brando Kingdom.

Giorno felt his heart drop to his stomach. You were being bullied again and this time..

He wasn't there to protect you.

The blonde took off out the room running down the hall with the paper, you on his mind.

He needed to find you, he need to know you were okay.

He burst into the throne room where Mista and Trish were informing his father of the situation.

"Giorno-"

"Ariana. Her and the others. They did something to-"

"YOUR HIGHNESS!"

They all look to the entrance to as Mariah, one of the only female advisors his father had came running in.

"There's a body in the storage closet!"

—----------------------‐—-----------------------

"Miss Giovanna,"

A woman turns to see a small (h/c) girl staring up at her with a flower crown in her hands.

"What child?"

"Is Giorno home?"

The woman scoffed before snatching the flower crown out to the young girls hands.

"No. And he's not ever coming back. So don't come back to my home again. Brat."

The young girl watches as the woman stomps on the flower crown. Ignoring the cries of the young girl for her to stop.

She then picked it up and threw it.

The young (h/c) girl ran over to the crown and picked it up, it was dirty and torn, ruined now.

She looked up to the late night sky as tears began to well up in her eyes.

"Y-you said you weren't going to leave me behind, Giorno!"

She fell to her knees, sobbing softly.

"You promised!!"

—------------------------------------------------------

You were in pain, your body was aching all over and you felt sticky blood on your forehead, a cool rag gliding across your forehead.

"God Y/n…you need to wake up…" It was Trish, concern and worry laced in her voice.

You used all your energy to raise your hand and placed it on hers.

Trish stopped wiping your forehead. And quickly grabbed your hand "Y/n?!?"

Your slowly cracked your eyes open and looked up at the pink haired girl. You gave a weak smile and she got up and ran out of the room.

"Giorno! She's awake!!"

You could heard another pair of rapid footsteps coming towards the room and coming up to your bedside.

"(N/n)!" He gently puts his hands on either side of your cheeks and places a soft kiss on your lips.

Giorno had tears smiling streaming down his face, he kept kissing your lips as if you were about to disappear.

"Y-you're okay…you're okay…" He mumbles as he looks at you.

You slowly reach your hands up to place them on his cheek.

"I-im just hurting Giorno…but I'm aliv-" Giorno hugged you tightly, your eyes widened as you felt a wet sensation on your shoulder.

He was crying.

“Giorno are you-“

“I almost fucking lost you again.” He said blankly, before finally letting you go.

“I almost lost you because someone else was jealous of what we had….someone who used to bully and harm us..” Giorno sighed softly before he left your side.

“I’m going to handle this. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.

You watched as he left your room and you felt scared for a bit, then you realized. You were the future princess, they harmed you out of jealous. Just because you were close to the prince.

A part of you felt bad for what was about to come to them.

But another sick and twisted part wanted to see all what they had done to you, done back to them.

—————————————————————————

It was quiet as Ariana and the others returned from their outing with Hol Horse. Ariana held a smirk on her face. Her plan was working. Once you disappeared, the King would force Giorno to pick someone else to be his bride and she would get what she wanted all along,

“Ah, to think the wimpy little boy from childhood would become king?” She says and Mira raises an eyebrow. “You knew the prince before hand?”

____________________________________________

Ariana nodded. “Oh yeah. He was a little bitch along side (y/n)”

She said while walking, chuckling afterwards.

"Besides, ain't nothing he can do if his daddy picks me-"

"Oh? Really?"

The group freezes as they turn to see King Brando standing there with Giorno at his side.

"Is this the same one, Son?"

"Yes. She is the one who bullied me and My wife. She's the one who injured her as badly as she did."

The King smirked as he snapped his fingers.

A couple of guards grabbed the girls by their arms as he walked up to Ariana.

"Now, it's time for you to feel the pain that you inflicted."

He backs away as Giorno approaches her with the same weapon she used on you.

"Say goodbye."

Bells were chiming as you were being twirled around in Giorno’s arms. His original pink suit traded out for a white vers.

You let a chorus of giggles as Giorno placed a flurry of kisses on your cheek.

“Hey Y/n?”

“Yes Giorno?”

“How does it feel to see our dream come true?”

You chuckle at that as he sets you down on the ground.

"It feels wonderful,my prince.."

-------------------------------

©️asthmatic-arts 2023 💕✨️

#jjba #jjba x reader #jojo no kimyou na bouken #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna #giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x you #giorno x y/n #jjba vento auero

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nebbyy · 12 days

Note

Random question. Do you think Baldwin would like puppies or kittens better

King Baldwin - Cats or dogs?

A/N: Mmmmh hard one, took me almost half a day to think about it😭😭 Loved the idea though, I think that this question and the reasoning behind its answer tell a lot about a person.

Couldn't find the name of the painting this time but the painter is by Henriette Ronner-Knip!!

Warning: puppies, but mostly kitties. Jokes aside I took the liberty of adding some historical inaccurate facts about cats' presence in medieval castles just to make the story more fit to my taste (not like historical accuracy is really the point of a fanfic but you get my point).

I'm still really torn but I'd say that it depends on which time of his life that question is asked

If it's during his childhood and first youth, he'd say dogs with no hesitation. They're great companions and so full of life, he'd love to bring a few with him during his hunting trips. He would see his own sprout of energy mirrored in his pawed companions! I see him as owning at least two of them, maybe even more (having almost a pack of dogs was pretty much the norm in noble families)

Dogs are also perceived better by Christian society, as there were quite a few theologists who believed that cats where somehow tied to unholiness or even the devil himself

But as time goes by and his condition worsens, he can't bring himself to stand for so long, let alone play with the dogs or take them out while he rides his horse

He feels bad, though, at the sound of their whines as his servants shoo them out of his bedroom, while he lays motionlessly on his huge bed (in which he usually let them lay while he rested, much to his servants' dismay)

And it is right as he's left laying there, alone and with an aching heart at the loss of his dear friends, that he for the first time notices the gentle meow of his physician's cat. He never really acknowledged his existence, for he always seemed to make it his mission to be as invisible to the people in the room as possible

The cat looked him with mil interest: of course, he knew him, but Baldwin couldn't say the same. He had been silently studying the young king, as his master tended to his everlasting wounds, or as he distracted himself form his duties with a game of chess. All while Baldwin didn't even know that the cat was in the room in the first place

Their exchanged stare didn't last long, because soon the cat jumped swiftly on the bed, waggling his tail like an enchanted snake as he made a few steps on top of the covers

He inspects the space, undisturbed by Baldwin who can't bring himself to make even the slightest movement because of how exhausted his sickness makes him

Finally, the cat seems to find a spot to his liking, right on the spot between Baldwin's side and arm, which is splayed on the side of the bed

The cat makes a few circles before snuggling close to his clothed side, resting his head on his own tail and quietly purring himself to sleep, soon followed by the king himself

That was their first official encounter, one that changed Baldwin's answer at the question "cats or dogs"

He also came to find that apparently there were far more cats in palace

In his late years, he found in those cats a silent and delicate company, it created a space in which he could let go of everything and just bask into the presence of those little balls of fur

And they are so agile and elegant in their movements, he enjoys watching them move around his room, jumping from a surface to the other like it's nothing; he feels like he can move and live through them

And he misses them oh so badly when they leave his chamber to go hunt for food or to simply explore the palace, but as they happily walk back in his room and curl up to rest all over his bed and desk, he almost feels like they're telling him all they've seen during the day simply through their eyes

And that is how Baldwin IV was born a dog person, only to die surrounding his death bed with cats

#king baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven #cats #dog #headcanons #requests closed

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lirotation · 7 months

Text

I Hail From Silverymoon: The Desperation

POV my dream. I dreamed a little adventure with Astarion. I think I was Amaara in the dream because he referred to me as a wizard. In the dream there was this intense emotion of wanting to do anything for him. This was a couple weeks ago. Though I awoke happy, it showed my unhealthy obsession.

I smoothed the dream logic a little bit and wrote a fanfic based on it. Everything in purple is what actually happened in the dream. The dream will forever remain a treasured happy memory.

Astarion X Amaara (My wizard Tav)

_______________________

After pursuing rumors of a high cleric capable of reversing vampirism, Amaara and Astarion found themselves before a decrepit grand church in a dark, ominous realm. Through the imposing metal gates, hideous creatures wandered the courtyard. There must be hundreds of them

Amaara tensed, ready to charge in spells blazing. But Astarion halted her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Remember you're a wizard, not a barbarian," he chided gently with a chuckle. "Let's slip through unseen."

Chagrined, Amaara nodded. She waved an invisibility spell on both of them and followed Astarion's lead as he stealthily picked the lock on a side door. They crept along moss-eaten halls, alert for any sign of the mysterious cleric.

Mosaics on the walls depicted divine warriors vanquishing fiends. But the crumbling chapel they passed was defiled with dark sigils. Something evil lurked here beneath the holy trappings.

A rasping chant echoed down the shadowy halls. Peering into the sanctuary, Amaara and Astarion beheld a towering, ghostly figure kneeling in prayer amidst flickering candles.

Their eyes met, and without a word, Amaara and Astarion silently communicated their intention to proceed with caution. Amaara stepped forward, making her presence known by clearing her throat softly. The spirit turned toward them, his translucent form exuding an otherworldly glow that cast strange shadows on the chapel's walls.

With a serene expression, the spirit regarded them and, surprisingly, offered a warm and welcoming smile. His ethereal voice, like a gentle breeze, filled the air. "Greetings, travelers," he intoned, “I am Rhys, guardian of this holy place. What brings you here across the realms?"

Amaara stepped forward, offering a respectful nod. "I am Amaara Ashvale," she began, her voice steady. "We have come seeking your aid.”

Amaara hesitated only briefly before sharing their quest for a way to restore life to Astarion. She spoke of their relentless pursuit of rumors that had led them to this church, in search of a cleric rumored to possess the power to undo the curse.

As she finished recounting their journey, the spirit’s gaze seemed to penetrate their very souls, as if he were assessing the purity of their intentions. Finally, he spoke, his voice resonating with a sense of wisdom and compassion. "You seek redemption and salvation, both for your companion and your own souls. Such a noble endeavor should not go unanswered."

He beckoned them closer. "Come, and we shall commune on the matter."

Kneeling, the cleric took their hands. Closing his eyes, he began chanting softly. The markings on his arms glowed brighter as he summoned the divine power to scry Astarion's soul.

a staggering wave of divine energy pulsated through the chamber, a might that could rival that of demigods. Amaara and Astarion locked eyes, the sheer power coursing through them leaving no doubt that this ethereal being commanded the forces of life and death. Guarded hope shone in Astarion's crimson gaze - perhaps this awe-inspiring display meant the cleric truly could unravel his vampiric curse.

After some time, the cleric let go of their hands, he stood up, "I can indeed help you. follow me, my children."

The cleric led them to a ritual chamber well-stocked with arcane components. "We have nearly everything needed to undo this condition," He explained, gesturing at the shelves.

The cleric went on, "There are but two fresh ingredients lacking - the heart of a nightwalker, and the catalyst of life itself."

"One of them is easy," he continued. "The heart of the nightwalker. We have one in the courtyard, surrounded by his bodaks. It wouldn't be too challenging for capable warriors like you."

Amaara inclined her head, her resolve firm. "We can handle that."

"The other one, the most important catalyst, is life," Rhys explained solemnly. "You cannot find any sentient life here normally, but again, the boy is lucky. We have one single life in this realm right now."

A heavy silence fell as the grave implication sank in. As the only living soul present, Amaara herself was the final catalyst.

Astarion grabbed her hand, turning to go. "Ridiculous, we're leaving," he snapped angrily.

But Rhys held up a placating hand. "Please, hear me. For one powerful such as she, only half her lifespan is required."

Astarion's brows furrowed in confusion, and he glanced at Amaara, who appeared equally taken aback. "Half?" Astarion echoed.

Seeing their confusion, The cleric explained, "As a gifted wizard with almost 2 centuries ahead, sacrificing half would be no great loss. A fair price for restoring life."

Astarion’s grasp tightened on Amaara’s hand, he looked into her eyes and shook his head, “No, nonono, don’t you even think about it.” He knew too well the determination in her eyes, "This is madness," he muttered.

Amaara gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "A sacrifice, yes, but one we're willing to make," she said gently.

Seeing Astarion's turmoil, she added with a faint, teasing smile, "I would look like Elminster without his beard at 100 anyway, I would like you to remember me as how I look now."

“This is so you,” Astarion snapped, “The answer is no. There will be other ways. We still have plenty of time, you don’t need to do this.”

“We traveled across the realms. All effort ended up in disappointment. This is the closest we’ve gotten. Once we leave this realm, we will not be able to enter again. I don’t want to give up on this chance.” Amaara said firmly. “It is my decision.”

“It is our decision. I won’t do it. You can’t make me.” Astarion’s tone matched Amaara’s firmness. His scarlet gaze shining with desperate intensity. "This sacrifice would haunt us both eternally. Each sunrise hereafter would be tainted by regret, each hour a reminder of what you lost."

“My love,” Amaara’s tone softened, “I know you care about me, but it is really not that big of a sacrifice. We will go seek Elminster out after we are done here. The relic of a wizard must have some spell to prolong lifespan.” She held his hand up and kissed it gently, "we've been traveling for a long time now. I would love to settle down for a while. Just the two of us, and a little house. A dog. Maybe…raise a family."

Amaara's willingness to offer half of her lifespan was a testament to her love and determination, and it both warmed his heart and broke it. Astarion closed his eyes, emotions churning violently within him. She spoke of it so casually, as if her very existence were coins to be casually bartered. “Gods damn it. Gods damn it all!”

"You fear binding me to regret. But I could never regret giving you back the life stolen from you." Amaara brought a hand up to cradle his cheek. "Granting you days bathed in sunlight and nights no longer haunted by bloodlust would fill my heart with joy."

Seeing him unconvinced, she smiled tenderly. "Let me do this, as you would do anything to protect me."

Astarion closed his eyes, leaning into her palm, her words washing over him. She spoke true - had their positions been reversed, he would offer his life in a heartbeat if it preserved hers.

Could he allow her the same choice? The gift of sacrifice willingly given out of deepest love? Perhaps accepting this sacrifice was the only way to honor the depth of her devotion.

"If this is your wish…" he rasped finally, scarlet gaze meeting hers, still swirling with doubt even as he acquiesced. She sealed her promise with a kiss, assuring him all would be well.

They turned back to the cleric, who was silently watching them. Amaara said, “We will proceed. I will be the catalyst.”

The spirit’s shining eyes lit up even brighter. And he paced from one end of the room to the other, muttering to himself what he needed.

The cleric's eagerness to proceed with the ritual put Amaara on edge. As he hastily gathered arcane components, her gaze followed him and she suddenly tensed.

She took Astarion's arm firmly and abruptly, then Amaara said in a calm voice, "First we must retrieve the nightwalker's heart you require. We will return swiftly."

The cleric's eyes narrowed, but he said benevolently. "Of course. I shall prepare the ritual space until your return."

As soon as they were out of sight, Amaara quickened their pace toward the exit. The maze-like halls blurred past until finally they burst through the decrepit doors into the foul air outside.

Amaara quickly waved a high level confusion spell that covered a huge area, then she broke into a run, half-dragging Astarion along. They ran past all the creatures that were attacking each other. She didn't cease until the warped spires of the grand church were far behind them.

Now a safe distance from the church, Amaara finally slowed her frantic pace, bending double and gasping for breath. She managed a weak, relieved laugh, the sound tinged with bitterness.

Astarion had been silent throughout their hurried escape. He peered at her intently and asked, "Did you change your mind?"

Amaara straightened, meeting his gaze with frustration simmering in her eyes. "No. But it seems I've lost my good judgment in my desperation."

“He was too eager, even I wouldn’t be so eager to help someone I just met.” She explained, “ I was watching him prepare and noticed items meant to reconstruct a physical form - grave dust, dragon scales, pieces of bones. Your body remains intact, you do not need these. The implications are clear - this spirit sought my life not to restore yours, but to rebuild his own corrupted mortal shell.” She gave a harsh, hollow laugh. “I thought this was it, the miracle we had sought for years. What foolishness, to trust so readily a spirit encountered in a wretched realm."

Amaara’s voice is tight with pain. "I've grown so desperate that I ignored all logic and instinct. I nearly fell prey to honeyed lies that appealed only to my heart's yearning."

Seeing her crestfallen expression, Astarion stepped closer. "Don't blame yourself. After all the disappointments, it's only natural to reach for a glimmer of hope"

He said gently. "You saw through the deception in time. We'll find another way. I must admit, I didn’t really want to go through with it anyways."

Leaning into him, Amaara allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. "I just want this torment to end for you," she whispered. "But hope makes me reckless."

Astarion held her close, letting her composure crack. "Hope also lights our way ahead," he murmured. "Don't lose it, for it makes you who you are."

Together they stood in solemn silence. The cleric's twisted machinations had dealt a painful blow, one of countless disappointments eroding Amaara's spirit through their long journey.

She could feel desperation taking root inside her, clouding judgment and discernment. How much more could her soul endure before hope became but a memory?

Amaara shuddered at the thought, and Astarion felt it. He tightened his embrace and rubbed her back comfortingly. He whispered, "Perhaps we should take a break, settle down somewhere pretty, get a little house like you wanted."

She slowly relaxed under his touch, allowing herself to imagine a nice little house next to a pretty waterfall. Little boy with her green eyes and his silver hair playing under the sun. It seemed…nice, but also boring. Then a realization surfaced within her. She had become obsessed with the destination - finding a cure. But surrounded by his scent of Bergamot and rosemary right now, she understood the journey had its own profound joy.

She looked up at him, shook her head, "I was so focused on the end goal, I overlooked the gift of our time together." She touched her forehead to his, never wanting to let him go. "Being by your side is home, I see that now"

Astarion's eyes softened as he gently rubbed his nose against hers. "You renew my spirit," he murmured, "just as I hope I renew yours."

They held each other close, two weary souls deriving hope from shared strength. Their end goal waited over the horizon. But for now, the journey itself was home.

_________________________

The actual ending of the dream is that I put a warning sign on the gate of the church so other Tavs who are on the same journey with Astarion can avoid this place. hahaha, dream logic.

#I do want more dream like this!#astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanart #baldur's gate 3 #astarion fanart #astarion fanfiction #balders gate 3 #bg3 #procreate #i hail from silverymoon #my tav #amaara ashvale #weird dreams

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 11 months

Text

Request: heeeyaaa Laura.. I hope you're doing fine. I'm here again for request, sorry can't get enough with your writing. It always makes me happy whenever i read here in your account..i hope you don't mind me asking a request again and again.. For my request can i have a HC for Nozel, Fuegoleon and Julius being needy and wants to have sexy time with s/o and trying to give a hint to them. If you're not comfortable on doing this it's fine by me.. Don't stop writing because i know a lot of your followers not just me is in love your works...^^

A/N: Hiya! I’m doing okay. Uni is easying on me, but I will have about a week where I will be working, while still having a couple of exams. But y’know. It’s life ^^’

We haven’t had smut on this blog for a good while, so it’s more than the time for it. So, I do hope that you like these! ^^

Pairing: Nozel x gn!reader, Fuegoleon x gn!reader, Julius x gn!reader Fanfic type: Headcanons Genre: smut Total length: ~1.0k Warnings: suggestive themes, the guys are being needy but are trying to be subtle about it (or then not), minors DNI

Nozel

Nozel has always had trouble expressing, verbally, what he wishes. It is merely a matter of not finding the right words, as they can sound rather vulgar in his mind. ‘Vulgar’ in the sense that he doesn’t want to sound like he’s insisting, like he’d have such desires. While in fact he does.

If he sees that lustful twinkle in the corner of your eyes, he has no issue with taking charge and merely scooping you into his arms, taking you by the hand, and ravishing your neck while leaving hungry kisses all over your skin. And at times, when he’s feeling devoid, the gracing of his teeth.

But when it comes from him, from his own carnal desires, taking charge seems too straight forward. Too insisting. Unfitting for a noble. He is not a brute, mind you.

The trouble is, that he grows so frustrated from it. To not know how to approach you about it, when all he’d really need to do is whisper ‘I want you’ into your ear. But to him it can’t be something so simple. And even in that there is the idea of insisting to him. Which he doesn’t wish to do. It is not something for him to insist.

So, you’d see him growing more irritated, which in all honesty could be about anything. It could be about work, about politics, someone irritating… Or… then it could be about how the fabric of his trousers seems to be growing too snug…

His eyes would narrow into a near glare, and his jaw would be tense, which would be only really visible when he winds up close to you… So, very very… close~

And there is the hint. In how he lingers around you, nearly over you, with those hungry eyes and a tense jaw while struggling to withhold from shifting in his seat. Which he does.

“Hmm~” you’d need to hum, and look at him with a smirk, and he’d know, that you know.

Fuegoleon

He wouldn’t have an issue with speaking out a gentle love confession to your ear, or perhaps even whispering something deliciously lustful into your ear… but such words are reserved for the bedroom, and not for places where anyone can hear. Because your private life should be private.

Thus, he dares not approach you too keenly, too much with intent. Because surely there is time, and opportunity, later. Surely.

But there is such sweet anguish having to simply look at you, there, being so irresistible, especially when he may not. Or should not. Or… perhaps he’d may and could, and it’d be a wish, a desire of a mere mortal man that he was, and a wish that involved his beloved, so it was more than mere carnal desire but… Still. He could think and try to reason to himself about it endlessly, but it’d do very little to quench the passion within him.

He is a man of passion, after all.

So, he’d need to be content in watching, and waiting. Because he does have self-restraint. He can wait. He might not like it, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not controlled by his desires.

But… you could see how his brows would be furrowed, and his breathing would grow heavier, nearly animalistic. Like a lion growling under his breath. And you’d recognize those eyes, the gaze he’d give you; his bedroom eyes that seem to tell you ‘I must have you’.

And if you’d want to tease him further, you could. You could see him practically squirm in his seat, while it’d be only internal. Under that surface of calm, would be a storm, for which you’d pay, later, in the best possible way. With your gasps and moans~

Julius

Julius is a tease, and knows it. And he knows that you know it. But there’s a fun in it, in being a bit of a tease.

He’s start with a smirk that would be… a bit smug, a bit more than the smirk he usually gives. And it’d be accompanied with a compliment of any kind. “You look lovely today”, “you’re having a good hair day today dear”, “is that a new shirt, looks good on you.” But in them there would be a hidden depth, the kind that you’ve never been able to quite put your finger on. Like there was a sentence left unspoken. Such as “and you’d look lovelier on the bed”, “but you make bedhead look amazing”, “but you’d look better without any.”

And he knows that he has time magic on this side, so he could just steal you away any time that would seem suitable. Not even necessarily convenient, but suitable for the two of you.

He’d touch your hand, or arm, place his broad hand onto your back and just… smirk at you. And in that smirk there’d be a hint of sins heaven has to offer.

Especially when he leans closer, and whispers to your ear “want to go somewhere? For a moment…?” And he’d click his tongue, just enough to make butterflies flutter in your stomach and warmth course through you.

But he’d always pull away at a convenient moment to look composed and non-suspecting to others. Another thing that comes with his teasing.

The delicate balance of a teasing touch, a smirk, and words whispered in a way that they’re whispered to only a lover. He’s both a very subtle, and a non-subtle man. Which makes it infuriatingly delicious.

#black clover fanfiction #black clover headcanons #nozel x reader #nozel silva x reader #nozel smut #fuegoleon x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #julius x reader #julius novachrono x reader #black clover smut #steamy

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minbin2000 · 9 months

Text

the season of 1800 (skz royal au)

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information

pov: gn!reader

word count: 625 (intro)

genre: fluff, romance, historical, royalty au, sfw

warnings: none

author's note: this fanfic is inspired by the high society portrayed in Bridgerton! this is not the first fanfic I've written, but it's the first one I am posting here! I hope you enjoy!

(the images above are from Pinterest.)

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navigation

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introduction

The Season of 1800 is upon the hopeful young people of the Kingdom of Isla. This season is expected to be grander than the last, with the turn of the century offering a special reason to celebrate love.

Your father, a noble expat to the tiny Kingdom of Hetha (situated where the northern lights shine all year long), believes it is time for you, his eldest child, to be wed. You only partly agree with this idea.

Part of you despises your father for pushing you into marriage. You don’t think you are ready to be betrothed. The other half of you is excited, ready to jump into the season head-first. You have heard many successful love stories that have come out of the centuries-old tradition of matchmaking. Though, you have also heard the horror stories.

You’ve never experienced true love before. You are worried you will make the wrong choice when picking a man to be your husband from your lack of knowledge in the subject matter. You have had to remind yourself that there will be others participating in the season for the first time as well. This gentle reminder calms your worries.

Your father has told you many stories of his kingdom you have never visited. He has told you of a lovely manor he is the Lord of (that may even become yours one day). It is nestled on a cozy bay with views of the northern ocean that borders your own kingdom.

The manor sounds a lot different from the bustling city you live in now. A life in the country intrigues you, but it also terrifies you. Being so removed from others outside of your own household sounds quite boring, if you are being honest.

Nevertheless, you and your father have just arrived in the Kingdom of Isla. Before you sits a bustling ballroom filled with young people like yourself in their finest clothing. They are accompanied by various families members, laughing and talking with each other.

A butler announces your name to the crowd. Those near the balcony you are standing on turn to look at you, but those in the back of the room do not hear your name. You jumped at the sound of your name, especially with your official title in front of it. Your father never uses such formalities with you. Your father links his arm through yours and escorts you down the staircase.

Once you reach the floor of the ballroom, your father takes you to a small table filled with ribbons and dance cards. From the balcony, you noticed people of similar ages to yourself wearing ribbons with their names etched onto them. A kind looking man hands you your ribbon and dance card. You pin the ribbon on the left side of your chest, just beneath your collarbone. You wrap the dance card around your wrist.

Your father smiled at you after noticing the stares you both were receiving. “You may certainly be the talk of the ball, y/n.” Unlike your father, this does not make you smile.

You hear comments from the nearby patrons. “I did not know he had a child!” “They must have come back to be married!” The comments and stares make you uncomfortable, and your cheeks feel hot from the embarrassment.

Your father then sees an old friend across the room and waves to him. He instructs you to find others your age to converse with while you wait to complete the dances on your dance card. He lets go of your arm. He walks away with a reassuring nod, leaving you in this ballroom full of strangers. You gulp and scan the room, wondering just what could be in store for you this season.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #royalty au #skz #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids romance #kpop fanfic #lee know #changbin #bang chan #hyunjin #han jisung #stray kids felix #skz seungmin #jeongin #skz ot8 #stray kids x reader

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heedmywarnings · 2 years

Text

God!reader who can't take anything serious Part Twelve, I think

So I like failed two of my tests, but I'm confident about ny journalism test when the scores come

Panic rushed in Zhongli's body, as golden blood continued to escape from your wound.

"Your grace! Who did this to you?" Zhongli got up from his seat, fuming with anger yet worried like a mother (Geo mommy?) "Oh some outrider from Mondstadt" you replied, unfazed you didn't even consider the punishment Amber would recieve.

[In Mondstadt]

Amber is doing outrider things, shooting fire arrows at hilichurls and sniping them idfk.

...

"Why do I feel a disturbance in the force?"

Zhongli quickly tended to your wound, wrapping your ankle with maximum delicacy, as Xiao guarded the surrounding area. "Are you alright now, your grace?" He asked, his worry was relieving bit by bit, you hummed in response.

So Zhongli took you to Liyue, presenting you as their noble god. You agreed because there is literally nothing else to do other than dying.

The steps down the mountains of Jueyun Karst to Liyur Harbot was a pain in the ass, well paim in the legs but STILL, and yet, all that work only to be met with screams claiming you to be false.

"Blasphemy!"

"Such heinous act!"

"How dare you steal our grace's face, you fiend!"

Oh. The screaming continued that it even attracted the uhh secretary? Of the Liyue Qixing. "What is all this commotion about?" Her voice, gentle yet stern asked, yells of angered people bellowed as a response.

"I see..." Ganyu approached you, her brows furrowed. "..." "..."

Without ant warning, she wielded her bow, preparing an icy arrow, Zhongli couldn't react quick enough as he was behind you and he didn't expect this type of response.

Ganyu fired an arrow at your chest.

With a horrid scream, the arrow made harsh contact with your chest. Piercing it.

Familiar golden blood leaked out, Zhongli had caught you before you fell. People stared, wide eyes and gasps.

This will definitely make an impact in the Liyue Qixing's reputation.

...

The sea was nice, if it wasn't almost frozen. Half an hour ago, you started to get cold, Childe had requested a jacket for you. You were looking at the view outside to distract your intrusive thought to just cuddle the ginger man in hopes to find warmth.

He doesn't even look unfazed about the icy weather.

You had Childe walk by your side, along with four other fatui members on each of your side, Snezhnaya was beautiful, unlike how the other fanfics perceive it. Sure, it's an icy wasteland, but it was a beautiful wasteland.

You were so taken aback by Snezhanaya's natural landscapes that you haven't even noticed Childe patting your shoulder, "Your grace, we're here. Look" Childe pointed to a large Palace, encased in glacier ice.

Wow. The cold never bother the Tsarista anyways.

Your heels made a clack noise everytime you took a step in the icy Palace, Childe led you to a large room with double doors that looked eight feet tall.

Woah, the doors opened in unison. Ten harbingers presented themselves, four on the left side of a log table, four on the right side, and one on the farther center of the table. "Tartaglia, tell me why you have summoned us... is it another.. what do you call those? 'Uno" matches?" Pulcinella spoke up, "I got our God" Chikde said casually, all the other harbingers looked at you, "Uh.. hi"

Another person showed up, "Pardon me, but I have heard that a lookalike of our grace is present here?"

Taglist:

@sheepispink

@kytesse

@magica-ren

@overthebox

@iruiji

@shizunxie

@feralturron

@kiraisastay

#genshin impact #imposter sagau #sagau #sagau impostor au #self aware genshin #sagau cult au #sagau x reader

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noblesvacation · 10 days

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 穏やか貴族の休暇のすすめ | Odayaka Kizoku no Kyuuka no Susume | A Gentle Noble's Vacation Recommendation (Manga) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Gil | Gilberto/Lizel Characters: Lizel, Gil | Gilberto Additional Tags: officially it's Gil but in my heart it's still Jill, but I'll use Gil properly on ao3 Summary:

Lizel runs into a little trouble with a poisonous monster in the labyrinth, but nothing is really a problem with Gil around.

#this story is two kudos away from being my top kudos story #which 1) holy frick fandom Thank You #and 2) please please please i need my old Votron fic removed from the top spot #A Gentle Noble's Vacation Recommendation #A Mild Noble's Vacation Suggestion #穏やか貴族の休暇のすすめ。#休暇 #gentle noble fanfic

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our-lady-of-haymakers · 7 months

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I adore Bang Dream It's MyGO!!!!! because you could convincingly pass it off as a semi-fictionalized documentary about the major types of Tumblr user. Every single one of these bitches reflects with horrifying and amusing specificity a type of person I've seen on this site.

You got the Relatable Autism posters who make lots of people realize very quickly that perhaps their own Neuros are not in fact Typical and occasionally switch from gentle relatability and fun animal facts to absolute justified apeshit fury after a bad day at work (Tomori), the fandom blogs that are into a lot of the general popular stuff and make a ton of gifsets and fanfic and general Discourse content and tag various posts of dubious relevance as "Me With [Insert Current Fave], occasionally breaking from fandom chatter to offhandedly reveal that they have 9000 mental illnesses and are on the run from the law, mentioned mainly because they were kinda inactive posting about the blorbo lately (Anon), the mean trans lesbians who represent everything that is good and noble about this site and alternate between absolute scalding, unapologetic, ruthlessly hilarious hater posts and ritual mass reblogs of pics of sad anime girls from the 2000s (Taki), the girlhood bloggers who start off making slightly melancholic memes reflecting on all the childhood moments they missed out on before steadily graduating into posting pics of various TV serial killers in pools of murder captioned "woman moment" and "me when mommy leaves again" (Soyo) and a cat blog that rises to prominence for the strange-yet-charming nature of the beasts it posts and occasionally breaks the stream of feline videos to reflect solemnly on the loss of Third Spaces and the ways in which the relentless growth of cities erodes the memories set into their quietest places (Rana).

"The MyGO girls would have a discord" False. These bitches do not communicate with anything resembling that level of familiarity and regularity. They each cultivate blogs that they would never reveal to the others and shudder every time posts from the same four strangers they don't follow end up mysteriously back into their dashes. It's a haunted app, but it's all they have.

#bang dream #bang dream it's mygo #mygo #ave mujica does have a discord and it's the only place they allow themselves to be relatively genuine with each other between the Plottings

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fictionalmenjusthitdifferent · 1 year

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Cherry Wine

Elrond X Reader fanfic

Sitting on the roof of one of the Rinvendell buildings much snuggle. I highly suggest listening to Hosier's song cherry wine to set the mood 😌

(h/c) = hair color

(Y/N) = your name

The moon shone down on the roofs of Rivendell, and many, many stars kindled in the birth of the world by Elbreth.

The breeze was chill, not even the hoot of an owl was heard, and the whole city was asleep, except for two, their souls bound by fate.

Atop the shimmering roof they sat, close together.

" It is a beautiful night, melleth nîn. "

Elrond said softly, his cheek resting against your (h/c) hair.

" Yes, it is... "

You replied, your voice barely above a whisper, it seemed if you spoke any louder it would shatter the silent magic of this moment.

It was just the two of you, no prying eyes no chatter of nobles.

Just you and Elrond, you could bask in his presence. The serenity was something you didn't often find in Rivendell high society.

An empty bottle of wine sat beside you, time had long since been lost track of. Nither of you knew how may hours had passed on this peaceful roof top.

You pulles Elrond back to lay against the cool metal, putting your head on his chest to hear his stedy heart beat .

You looked up, he smiled softly, the starlight dancing in his grey eyes.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your cheek.

" I wish this could last forever... "

He breathes, your faces mere inches apart, he smelled of wine and spice .

You gently press your lips to his, he melts against your touch, eyes fluttering closed.

You press your forehead against his for a brief moment after you par, before tucking your face into his neck.

He inhaled your soothing scent, this, this is what he lived for, quiet moments of tranquility with you.

He knew that come what may, he was your and you were his.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

" I love you, ( Y/N ) "

Elrond murmured in your ear, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks dispite the chill air around you, no matter how long you spent, theose three words in his rich qunyan accent never ceased to make you blush.

" I love you to Elrond... "

He pulled you closer, his arms about your waist.

The stars shone down fondly on the sleeping pair, even as the darkness gave way to dawn, painting the sky with rosy pink and orange, the sun spreading it's rays and banishing the darkness.

This was your love, moments of peace and solitude, quiet love, and gentle.

And so it was and remained, to the end of thir days.

~The end~

{ This is for a lovely mutual of mine @ladylittlepage 💕 I hope you enjoy it ❤️

I revised this several times to get it to suit my liking lol, I hope you like it!! Sorry it's kinda short. }

- Alex ❤️❤️

#elrond #elrond half elven #elrond peredhel #lord elrond #elrond x you #elrond x reader

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hapan-in-exile · 4 months

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Volume 3 - Post #9: Drugstore Cowgirl

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Total word count: 2.2K (of 45K total in Volume 3)

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, +18 *NSFW*

__________________________________________

IX. “Wait!” You cry out in a rush of panic. “My jacket…”

You recall slipping it off before following Coral onto the dance floor. And then, you’d lost the chance to grab it when the night club erupted into chaos.

Surely, Neon Dreams had cleared out by now. Or the initial hysteria would have passed?

It’s not the first time you’ve had to weigh the consequences of leaving or retrieving Artem’s jacket. Of course, his memory is more than a piece of clothing. You know that. But it’s all you have left of him.

You peer over Mando’s shoulder to glance down the service tunnel. There’s no smoke or signs of a fire from the club basement.

Valine merely shot down a few of the spotlights. The rigging hadn’t collapsed. Maybe everyone had resumed partying, and your jacket remained buried between several booth cushions.

“I know it seems ridiculous,” you tell him. “But…I have to go back for it.”

“Your brother," Mando asks in a gentle voice. "He’s gone?”

“Yes,” you nod.

“When did you lose him?”

You don’t need to bother with counting.

“It’s been ten years.”

Hell, you can practically hear the Mandalorian doing the math in his head.

“Is that why you left Hapes?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “That’s not why.”

He responds by crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m gonna need more of an answer than that, Thulani.”

Mando’s tone is sarcastic, but just barely. If you’re being honest, he sounds a little hurt. And he has every right to be. He’d told you about what happened to his family…and all those childhood memories you’d seen regardless of whether he wanted to share them or not.

What had you shared with him in return?

“So, you think one orgasm entitles you to ask a personal question?”

You smirk, arching an eyebrow artfully in the hopes of recasting your evasiveness as a game. Some flirtatious tactic to seem mysterious rather than withholding.

“Hearing the way you moaned?” He says in that rough voice, leaning closer to your ear. “I’d say I earned it.”

Whew! Suddenly, your stomach clenches into knots. You’re lucky he’s willing to play along.

Alright. Well. Now you’ve got to give him something.

“Artem’s death is not why I left Hapes. We escaped together—or tried to. He didn’t make it.”

“Escaped?” He asks, pulling back in surprise.

“Yes,” you sigh. “We thought about running so many times. But where would we go? And then we had this chance to leave and join the Rebellion.” You roll your eyes before reminding yourself to be kind to that naive and desperate girl you’d been. “A new home. Meals, clothes, a bed, a purpose. It was a chance at a new life, and we took it.”

“Why couldn't your family protect you?”

While you don’t know much about Mandalorian culture beyond what you’ve read in books or message boards—you envied their commitment to collective resilience. The safeguarding of Mandalorian life above all else. It’s what you missed most about your time in the Rebel army. When your unit always had each other’s backs.

Palace politics is the exact opposite. Just the continuous rise and fall of noble houses in an unending cycle. The whole of existence narrowed down to who accumulates and wields power. And your proximity to the throne. Everyone out for themselves.

“Um,” you can’t believe you're about to tell him this. “They’re in prison. For treason. When I said Tigran and I belong to the Queen…that’s why. Our families were declared traitors to the Crown.”

You hadn’t expected it to come out quite like that. So terribly succinct.

Then you realize why you didn’t want him to know about any of this. Because it all sounds so fucking tragic.

Is it too late to change the subject?

“By my count, that was three questions,” you add with a wink before he can dwell too much on your emotional baggage.

“Clarifying questions shouldn’t count against my total,” he says in all seriousness.

Uncrossing his arms, he places both hands on your shoulders consolingly. “We don’t have to keep talking about this if you don't want to. I'm sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you rest your palms over his chest plate. “He would have been really proud of me for making it this far.”

Mando pauses to look down at you in earnest. “You’re nothing if not tenacious.” Then, taking in a deep breath he says, "Thank you for answering my question in the spirit in which it was intended. I've noticed you talk a lot," and he grabs both your wrists to prevent you from punching him. "All that talking makes it seem like you're very open—but you don't actually reveal much about yourself."

"I...yeah, that's fair," you concede.

"It's a good strategy for survival. I just don't want you to use it on me."

"Mando—"

He gathers your hands between his leather palms. "When I ask you a question, it's because I want to know more about you."

"You're right," you say. "It's just that I'm also not great with...trusting people. I try to live in the present. That's how my life has been unfolding since…forever. Living moment to moment. But maybe it's also a way to hide things? Because I'm the only one who sees the full picture. Does that make sense?"

The Mandalorian nods, "There's a lot about my past I'm not proud of—that I don't want you to know about. You won't scare me off, so just be honest with me."

"It helps that you're easy to talk to."

"Me?" He asks skeptically.

"Yes, you. Hmmm, more honesty...I know you think Tigran and I have this tortured romance, but it’s not like that.”

“Okay. Then what’s it like?”

Ugh, how do you sum up a toxic twenty-year dumpster fire of a relationship?

“We share a secret that he doesn’t trust me to keep.”

“What secret?”

“Well, if I told you, I’d just be proving him right, wouldn’t I?” You grin. “He can’t turn me in because I’m a liability, and he won’t kill me because I’m all he’s got.”

“Did he ever try to…with you?”

“No! No,” you reassure him. “Maaaybe when we went through puberty. But staring at my breasts when we were thirteen is kind of water under the bridge at this point. And, I mean, who can blame him? My tits are mesmerizing.”

The Mandalorian huffs, shaking his head, and you give yourself a little pat on the back for getting this all out without having a meltdown or making him deeply uncomfortable.

Yet, whatever happened between him and the mercenary Tigran Vildar must be the stuff of nightmares because the bounty hunter's whole body visibly eases hearing you say that he's never touched you. His immense sense of relief is palpable, and it definitely feels like something more significant than a nagging jealousy that you might have slept with someone he knew.

“If Ingtar knows I’m alive,” you muse, making your way back to the basement cellar. “I guess Tigran will find out soon enough.”

“Thuli, he found out the minute your profile was updated in the Guild database. He could be on his way to Daiyu City right now.”

“Or he might find some reason to be conveniently preoccupied until my trail goes cold?” You offer this up as a highly optimistic alternative. “Maybe it’s foolish to pretend I know what he’ll do. In any case, I should get in contact with Ingtar. I feel awful that he thinks you abducted me.”

“Let the old man think what he wants.”

“Come on,” you say, stepping over a pile of liquor boxes. “You want to be on his shit list just for some fucking pussy?”

It’s hard to channel all of Talsala’s outsized ego, but it’s a pretty good impression, in your humble opinion. Then, you laugh, thinking about how satisfying it was to watch Mando slap the teeth out of his mouth.

“Don’t sell your pussy short,” he replies, his voice sounding gruff through the modulator.

Your cheeks flush scarlet, and that clenching throb in your stomach drags a little lower.

“Give me a boost?”

The freight elevator built underneath the bar looks super loud. There’s a low drone of music coming through the open service hatch, but no sounds of dancing or partygoers to obscure the noise. If you want to sneak in undetected, you’ll have to climb.

“You don’t honestly think I’m letting you back in there?”

“There might be injured people still inside. I could help.”

“You can’t save everyone.” He sighs impatiently—but you swear you can hear him smiling. “Sit this one out. I’ll get the jacket. You stay here.”

You throw your arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

Mando stands there awkwardly as though he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Until finally, he decides to rest them on your lower back. One of these days, you’re gonna have to teach him how to hug like a normal person.

In a burst of explosive movement, he jumps up and catches the edge of the hatch. Hanging there momentarily, he rolls his neck before pulling himself up slowly. Despite the layers of fabric and Beskar, you can see the powerful muscles of his back and shoulders flex and tauten.

You find yourself fanning your face with your hand.

Listening with rapt attention, you don’t hear anything amiss. No blaster fire or screams or the blare of alarms going off. He might actually manage this without blowing anything up.

You take the time to clean yourself up a bit. Securing your hair beneath your hood, readjusting your visor and gloves, retrieving your inseam from inside you. It’s drenched with your come, but there’s not much you can do about that now.

Starting to grow anxious, you chew on the corners of your lips until you catch the sound of approaching footsteps. And yes, you are a creepy weirdo who notices everything about him and instantly recognize the cadence of Mando's gait.

Moments later, he vaults down the hatch, landing in a crouch with your jacket clutched in his hand.

It takes a minute for your heart rate to slow. Really, you’ll never get out of this fucking service tunnel if you give into every impulse to grope him.

Plus, it’ll seem extra manipulative to seduce him when you know he’s about to fly off the handle after he hears what you have to say next.

“So I need to tell you something. That I did. Which is unforgivably stupid. And, uh, you have every right to be mad at me about it.” You pull the chip card from your jacket pocket and crush it under the heel of your boot. “Talsala handed it to me right before we met with Vos. I meant to destroy it as soon as we left the ship, but…”

“But then someone tried to slash open your throat, and you forgot about it?”

“Yes, exactly!”

You shrug the jacket back on, unable to look him in the face—or view plate. “I know that’s not an excuse. Stupid mistakes get people caught or killed. I need to be more vigilant.”

“I’m not mad,” he lied.

Oh, the Mandalorian is most definitely pissed at you right now. But you appreciate he’s got the emotional intelligence not to lash out at someone he was hoping to have sex with later.

“You’re hard enough on yourself,” he continues, stepping closer. He pulls the hem of your jacket together and zips it closed up to the collar. “And I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to me.”

You shake your head slowly and grin at him. “We’re just dealing in sexual favors already, are we?”

Mando slides his hands over the curve of your hips to squeeze your ass between his wide palms. “I get the sense you want to make up for lost time.”

“Hmmm, how long have we got before we’re supposed to meet up with Gwellis?”

“Forty-three minutes.”

“Shit!” You groan, thinking fast. “Shit! The hotel is definitely compromised. I’ll need to hit up a pharmacy on the way there.” You shoot him a sympathetic look. “Guess we have to continue this later, se nia’n cor.”

“What does nia’n cor mean?” He asks, intrigued.

You flash Mando the most enticing smile in your arsenal. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

------------

Let the gods bear witness to my love for you, Mandalorian.

There was exactly one bed aboard the shuttle you rented to fly round-trip to/from Daiyu City. And, yeah, you’re being very presumptuous, but a girl likes to be prepared.

I’m shaving my lady regions in a drugstore toilet on the off chance you're going to fuck me.

With your foot braced against the bathroom sink, you say a little prayer and pass the razor blade between your cheeks.

Stepping out of the restroom stall feeling considerably more aerodynamic, you spy the Mandalorian at one of the payment kiosks.

What could he possibly...?

In the most nonchalant manner possible, you walk down the aisle you'd caught him browsing earlier and try to peruse the merchandise through your peripheral vision.

Sleep aids, aromatherapy, white noise machines, and—

Well, well, well.

Guess you're not the only one being presumptuous.

**********************

Continue reading - Post #10: Good old-fashioned shootout

Back to Volume 3 - all posts

#mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #mando smut #sexy mando #sexymando #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian smut #mando fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #star wars smut

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celestemagnoliathewriter · 1 year

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Ok but Please what’s YOUR Favorite (good) things about Remus lupin?

Oh anon. Get ready for an essay, because my love for Remus Lupin knows no bounds.

He is generous. Ex: he gives Harry & co chocolate right away. Yes, he's poor and shabby, but he shares what little he has. He is constantly sharing himself and his talents with others, even when he has nothing.

He's clever and witty. He was part of the gang making the Marauder's Map, he liked a good prank, and look at how he was with Peeves in PoA - sending him off like it was nothing and Dean thinking it was so cool.

He's got some darkness. I do think this is a good thing, actually, because it often comes out with righteous anger. Remus is a sad man, given the shitty hand he got in life, and that does come out as anger. Think of the time he tried to kill Wormtail - 'goodbye, Peter.' was his last line to Peter before he almost killed him. I mean, c'mon. Polite 100%. Appropriate 100%. Devastating 100%. I love that so much.

He's a good teacher. I think it speaks volumes that Harry & co, the Weasleys, Dean, and so many others are quick to defend him. He had a unique teaching style and the obstacle course at the end of PoA was brilliant. It was clear he loved what he did and he was good at it.

He's a good listener. I like that with Harry, he does often resort to questions like 'is that so?' 'do you really think that?' which is a Socratic method of teaching. I am biased, because this is actually how I teach, by asking questions and seeing what students think, correcting them along the way when they need help. I love that Remus teaches this way, even when he's not formally their professor anymore.

But, what I love MOST about Remus Lupin is how deeply loving he is. He's not perfect at loving and the way he shows love is often backwards and stupid, but he loves SO much. You might say it was ridiculous that he didn't see Harry in canon before PoA, but think about it: he's a werewolf who has nothing. Compared to the Dursleys who live in a nice house, in what world would Remus even think he could be better? It's possible he did check on Harry but maybe got turned away by Petunia. By the time of PoA-HBP, yes, the onus is more on him to try for a relationship with Harry, but with Sirius in the picture for most of it, maybe he didn't want to step on any toes. Yes, he could've done better but he kept a distance, thinking it was best for Harry. That doesn't even scratch the surface of how he was with Tonks.

Remus and his love for Tonks. I have written so much fanfic of these two, so I'll let those words speak for themselves in some ways, but what I love about the way Remus loves Tonks is that it's so profound, so life-changing, and so devastating is that he's willing to walk to his death to keep her from the challenges of loving a werewolf. It's totally true that Remus took away some of her agency here, thinking he knew better, and that's a flaw. But to understand Remus and the way he loves, just look at the way he was with Tonks. In OoTP you can see some gentle teasing. If you see Lupin, most of the time you see Tonks. In HBP, they're both hot messes. In DH, it starts precariously and ends in tragedy, but not without the biggest moment of happiness with Teddy. Every single one of those things was his way of expressing love. Gentle teasing and friendship - he was probably flirting with her without realizing it and she returned it right back (he was clueless or in denial). Leaving her in HBP - the man probably half-starved himself, slept outside, and suffered just so he could give Tonks an out. What kind of person does that? The kind of person who loves so much, so profoundly, that they are willing to endure whatever it takes for the betterment of another. Flawed and stupidly noble, yes. But at the end of the day, the total suffering he endures in HBP is not necessarily for the Order or for the war, but for Tonks, to give her a chance to break free. Even his abandonment of Tonks when she's pregnant is him trying (and failing) to show her and their baby how much he cares. He's so broken that he thinks they're better off without him. He leaves because he's so concerned for their safety and well being that he thinks he's better off on a death adventure tour than with his wife. I mean, look at the way he announces himself when he gets to Grimmauld Place. He includes, as part of his self-identification, that he is Nymphadora's husband, and she likes to be called Tonks. Even when he's left her, he is like THAT'S MY WIFE. Even when he's ready to go on a death tour with Harry & co, he's got Tonks at the forefront of his mind because she is his wife and he loves her. Of course he comes back to her, thanks to Harry setting him straight (again, good listener). And when Teddy is born you see how Remus has been changed and grown - he's so stupidly happy that he's got a family. That they love him. That his son is healthy. That he's gotten everything he ever wanted, a family.

Of all the things to love about Remus Lupin, it's his profound capacity for love and how he shows it. It's not perfect and it's often so stupid and backwards that you want to punch him, but from his POV it's the highest form of love. It's self-sacrifice to the point of being willing to die so that others have a better life.

#remus lupin #pro remus lupin #remus john lupin #hp meta #remus angst #harry potter meta

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