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talesofesther · 5 months

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first in my heart

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.

A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.

Word count: 4,7k

Masterlist

"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."

It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.

To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.

And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.

Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.

He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.

Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.

It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.

The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.

You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.

With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.

"What are you up to, my sweet?"

The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.

The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.

You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."

You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.

Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"

The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."

Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."

He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.

You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.

Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.

He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.

And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"

A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.

You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.

The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.

When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.

You didn't.

You said you cared for him. You hugged him.

There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.

Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.

He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.

Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.

Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.

There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.

With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.

It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.

But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.

The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.

Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.

Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.

"Astarion?"

With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.

"Is everything okay?"

Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.

Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"

The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.

You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."

But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?

Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.

He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.

Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.

He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.

Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.

Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.

And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.

He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.

You could only hope he would adore it just as much.

It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.

Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.

You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.

Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.

You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.

With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.

You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.

"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.

You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.

"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.

You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."

His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.

"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.

A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.

You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.

"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.

For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.

You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.

"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.

Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.

"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"

You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."

A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.

You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.

Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.

The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.

A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.

He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.

People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.

Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.

Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.

You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.

Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.

"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.

"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."

Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.

There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.

Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.

You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.

When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."

You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion imagine #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #astarion fanfic #my story #astarion ancunin

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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months

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At ten years old, Eddie’s mama gets a raise at work just in time for Christmas. This is the same year Wayne works enough to set aside almost $200 for Eddie’s Christmas presents.

Eddie doesn’t know this, and he’s a kid who knows better than to expect more than a few things in his stocking and one or two “bigger gifts” -usually books or tapes- so it’s a surprise when his stocking is overflowing and there’s a huge box under the tree Christmas morning.

Even more surprising is that it’s labeled from Santa, and Eddie hasn’t believed in Santa for nearly three years despite everyone in his classes still believing. He bounces on his feet while he waits for Wayne to get his coffee, for his mama to finish making their special hot chocolate.

The year he gets his first guitar is also the year he finds out his mama can sing like a rock star.

It’s the year he finds out Wayne used to play bluegrass at a bar back home and probably could’ve made it big if he was willing to leave his sister.

It’s the year Eddie finds out he can play by ear and uses it to his advantage to learn all his favorite songs as soon as he figures out the chords.

And for years, he is quick to pull out his acoustic to learn something new, even when he manages to buy his electric with money from helping fix cars at the shop where his uncle’s friend works.

After he saves Hawkins, and his hands stop shaking enough for him to play, he asks Steve to bring his acoustic to the hospital so he can entertain himself. Steve shares a look with Wayne, then his mama.

“It, uh, didn’t survive…everything.”

Nothing broke his heart quite like hearing that.

He pretends it’s okay though, doesn’t want his mama and Wayne to feel worse than they already did about everything.

He tables his emotions until he’s alone that night, shortly after dinner when everyone goes home to get some rest before the next day of volunteering, and cleaning, and visiting.

He’s woken up in the middle of the night by the door opening, and even though the person coming in is trying to be quiet, the door creaks from the building settling funny during the “earthquake.”

“Steve?”

Steve turns and even in the dark, Eddie can see his blush.

He’s holding something.

Something big and guitar shaped.

“What have you done?”

Steve walks over to him and gently sets the guitar case in his lap.

Eddie opens it and sees a gently used acoustic with Eddie’s name now engraved on the side.

“Steve.”

“You can have nice things. You should have nice things. We don’t have many options right now, but at least you won’t get rusty.”

Eddie cried.

Steve held him.

And after Steve wiped his tears away and kissed his forehead—which was something they’d be talking about as soon as Eddie could focus on something other than the guitar in his lap— he played slower songs, songs that even Steve could recognize, until a nurse realized Steve was here past visiting hours and kicked him out.

When his mama saw it the next morning propped by his bed, she smiled knowingly.

“I see the boy followed through.”

“What?”

“He asked me all kinds of questions about guitars and what your old one looked like and if a used one would be okay. Don’t know how he found one so quick.”

“He’s pretty determined when he sets his mind to something.”

“I think he’s set his mind on you, baby.”

Eddie thought maybe she was right.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #wayne munson #mama Munson #headcanon #stranger things

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shunsuiken · 4 months

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DON’T FORGET WHO’S TAKING YOU HOME (and in whose arms you’re gonna be).

pairing(s). kaeya, childe, ayato, kaveh, neuvillette x fem!reader

genre. fluff

wc. 200-400 for each character

an. AND SING WITH ME 🎤🎤 SO DARLING SAVE THE LAST DANCE FOR MEEE michael buble literally left no crumbs with this song i had to write about it omg + ALSO happy valentines day everyone !!! i may not have a valentine this year but im happy to post this for anybody feeling a little lonely today !! you are so so loved okay ?!!! come and collect a kiss from me before reading on 💋 MUAH have a lovely valentines day !!! <33

kaeya alberich

you’re really good at hiding, kaeya thinks to himself with a huff and a smile on his lips. searching all over the plaza for you was making him break a sweat in his navy blue tuxedo. with another turn around the corner he decides to remove his tuxedo jacket for the time being, folding it over his arm to carry instead.

“no, no, no klee! stop it! you can’t play with your things here, if you blow things up-”

“-master jean will put me in solitary confinement…”

oho, kaeya recognises these two voices very well. he finds it so hilarious that at the end, his feet lead him right to you! not even a single thought was processed as he turned the corner two seconds ago but here you are.

he hides behind the large potted plant, listening to the conversation you and the beloved spark knight share. he stays there until it becomes quiet between you two.

“kaeya, you peacock, i know it’s you.”

kaeya lets out a baffled noise, finally showing himself from behind the plant, offended by the ridiculous nickname you gave him. “snowflake, how dare you?”

“klee, don’t eavesdrop on people like this man when you grow older, yeah?” you point animatedly at your lover, who’s folding his arms and scoffing at you.

klee only giggles, nodding her head. “i gotta go find albedo now!” you watch as she skips off towards the plaza, waving goodbye.

you then turn towards your next problem that stands behind you. “i thought you were out dancing?”

“i was, but they’ll start playing the last dance soon and how can my last dance not be with you?” your lover walks towards you, pulling you closer by your waist with his free arm. you immediately wrap your arms around his neck, smiling softly at his intentions.

you hear an announcement echoing from the plaza before you can reply, and you figure it might have been mika because of how timid the voice sounded.

“good evening everyone, please bring all your friends and company over for the last dance of the night!”

“sounds like our queue.” you slide your arms off his shoulder to grab his hand, pulling him with you without warning.

“oh snowflake, hold on-” kaeya almost trips on air and the sounds of your laughter bounce off the concrete floor and walls as you drag him down the staircase leading to the plaza.

childe

you can never refuse ajax’s request for a dance, because he won’t take no for an answer. especially when it comes to dancing. your feet hurt so much. you’re so ready to just fall on top of your bed and go to sleep. but the only thing that keeps you wide awake, heart pumping and everything is the look on your lover's face.

his gaze usually has this inhumane and dull look to them, but you find that whenever he looks at you or when he participates in something he loves, his gaze finally twinkles. it works so miraculously too. like all of a sudden life was returned to him and he could see.

the smile on your lips grows when you think about this. you think it’s sweet how you’re one of the reasons that the life in his eyes returns.

ajax notices the tighter grip you hold on his forearm, making his lips curl in curiosity. “what’s going on in your head, baby?”

you zone in on the situation, you’re still dancing, and you shake your head in response. “nothing, ajax.” you want to keep your thoughts to yourself but when ajax smiles at you like that, with the most expectant look on his face, you can’t help yourself. “actually, i just thought about the dance.”

he twirls you around to the music before connecting arms with you again. “you just thought about the dance?” his brow quirks in amusement.

“no, no not like that,” you say with a sheepish chuckle before continuing, “i just thought that this number is the longest one so far.”

“well of course,” ajax responds with an eye smile. “it’s the last song.”

“it… is?” you look up at ajax while trying to fight the urge to look anywhere else.

if this is the last song… and you’re dancing with him… then that can only mean-

when the choreography allows ajax to pull you against his chest, he leans down so he can whisper in your ear, “you will be my final dance partner tonight.”

kamisato ayato

these few days at fontaine have been strumming the strings of your heart like a guitar—ayato has been spending so much time with you that you’re beginning to think of such ridiculous conclusions. his eyes that linger on your face, his hand that hovers on the small of your back when leading you out of a hall and it’s just these little things that he does with you that makes you want to claw an entire curtain off its rod. one time he even poured you a glass of wine before taking a sip with the same glass—it’s like he’s forgotten he’s the yashiro commissioner!

thoma and ayaka barely bat an eye. but also, they’ve known ayato for much longer than you have since you were a recent (and lovely) addition to the little family. so… perhaps this is just how he acts?

“uh-huh, when he’s courting someone that is.”

the sentence that thoma said offhandedly is the only thing that rings through your mind. but your thoughts must’ve shone through your expression because ayato is quick on his feet to smoothly guide you off the dance floor, gloved hand still holding yours as he brings you to a less crowded area—the balcony.

“you appeared to be distracted, that’s why i pulled us away,” ayato breaks the silence and your train of thoughts.

he’s still holding my hand—is what you’re repeating in your head. your eyes can barely focus on a single object within your field of vision. your bottom lip quivers at the revelation you’re carefully starting to uncover.

“i am not distracted,” you inhale sharply when you accidentally meet ayato’s gaze. “i…” your brows crease as you try to get words out of your mouth.

ayato brings your hand up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and you can physically feel the blood rush up to your fingertips. “would my lady like to return to the hotel?”

your voice leaves your throat in but a hoarse whisper, “what did you just call me?”

you hear a chuckle from ayato and it makes you snap your head around in embarrassment. this new term of endearment rolls off his tongue way too easily, the rascal must have been practicing!

“oh no, no, no, my lady, you must look at me,” a grin appears on ayato’s face at your attempts to hide your expression and when he finally gets you to look at him, you’re caged between his arms.

“why would you call me that?” you whine at his teasing.

“well i just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore,” ayato murmurs, a dust of pink decorating his cheeks. “will you allow me to call you that?”

kaveh

three hours. it’s been three hours since you and kaveh decided to learn a cute couples dance routine ‘for funsies’. whose idea was this again? weren’t you two supposed to be just friends? doesn’t kaveh have a client meeting tomorrow that he should be preparing for?

“so we do this—then this and then we’re supposed to oh—!”

the silence is deafening. the song playing in the background fades as you both stare at each other, even mirroring the same expression. eyes as wide as saucers. lips just inches from connection.

kaveh’s breath fans over your lips and you can hear the audible gulp he makes at the closeness. he’s also entirely aware that the red in his cheeks has reached his ears by now. while you, on the other hand, have started hearing the percussion of your heart in your own eardrums.

“o-oh…” your legs are frozen in place and hang on a second, why haven’t either of you let go?

his hand is respectfully sat on your waist, while the other is occupied holding your hand. you hear him inhale and it grabs your attention before you can get anymore lost in his gaze. his gaze observes your lovely face, eyes flickering from one feature to another as he whispers, “has anybody ever told you you’re pretty up close?”

you shake your head ever so slightly. “no.”

kaveh likes this answer, humming as he ponders for a moment.

your eyes sparkle when that handsome smile of his appears on his lips. he chuckles shortly at your expression, your palm feels so warm when connected with his.

“i’m glad i’m the first to tell you.”

neuvillette

“oh dear, neuvillette,” you chuckle softly, walking towards him as he takes another sip of his water. he stands in a more secluded corner of the hall, briefly greeting guests with a nod of the head. which is why he stands out like a sore thumb—arctic white hair, designer blue suit and a piercing gaze.

but that gaze doesn’t fool you. the dragon sovereign is probably pondering on retiring for the night and is only still present to keep up with appearances.

“yes, lady y/n?” it’s to nobody’s surprise that he heard you from metres away.

when he turns around, your eyes immediately land on the problem you’ve sensed since you returned from the dancefloor.

“your tie,” you reply, standing in front of his figure, nonchalantly raising your hands in preparation to adjust the garment. “will you allow me to fix it?”

the gears in neuvillette’s mind pause abruptly at your question. he certainly has no problem readjusting his own tie. his hands aren’t holding anything else other than his cup of water—which he can definitely put down on a nearby table!

but why can’t he bring himself to say no?

the ‘of course’ leaves his lips faster than he would have liked, but that’s no matter, your expression shows no sign of displeasure. instead, he watches your sweet smile brighten.

when your fingers reach the tie, neuvillette notices how you tiptoe to reach him. so he does what any normal person would do—he leans down.

it catches you off guard, the tips of your fingers just slightly grazing against his neck in the process. you profusely apologise in whispers to which neuvillette can only chuckle at.

“it is no trouble lady y/n, i appreciate the kind gesture.” the corner of neuvillette’s lips curve, his hands neatly tucked behind him as he allows you to redo his tie.

neuvillette’s lips only seem to further break into a smile as he watches you pat on the tie in completion.

“there, all finished.” you look up at the iudex, chuckling, “you ought to learn how to do this yourself.”

neuvillette hums, “perhaps you could teach me.” he takes your hand, gently brushing his lips against your knuckles before kissing it. “but for now a dance shall suffice, would you care to join me?”

#kaeya x reader #childe x reader #ayato x reader #kaveh x reader #neuvillette x reader #kaeya fluff #childe fluff #ayato fluff #kaveh fluff #neuvillette fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff

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forever-rogue · 21 days

Note

Hi babes! So I’ve had this idea running around my brain for days.

Basically Cooper Howard and the reader knew each other pre-apocalypse (up to you wether it was romantic or platonic) but after the bombs go off, the reader makes it to a vault where she is put in a cryopod for 200 years to see that the rest of her vault is dead from asphyxiation (I definitely didn’t think of this by playing fallout 4). So she escapes and later finds Cooper (she recognises him and then realises it’s him), it’s up to you how it goes from there 🫶🏻.

Anyway, I love your work! Hope you’re doing great! 💗

AN | I love this concept. Enjoy❤️

Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader

Warnings | language; mentions of canon typical violence

Word Count | 3.1k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind, sugar,” Cooper came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before resting his chin on your shoulder. You made a small sound of content before leaning into him and turning your head to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

“I’m just…thinking,” you whispered before turning around so you were facing him. The warm evening breeze swirled around the two of you as you leaned against the porch railing, and looked down the Hollywood hills. He took your face in his hands, brushing his thumb along your cheek.

“You do that a lot,” he teased as you rolled your eyes in amusement, “too much thinking ain’t good for you.”

“Well, between the two of us, one of us has to use a brain cell once in a while,” he scoffed as he gently squeezed your cheeks before pressing a kiss to your lips. When he let go, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, kissing him a few more times, “I love you, you know?”

“I know,” he confirmed with a soft nod, “I love you too, sweetheart. You gonna tell me what you’re thinking about?”

“I suppose,” you sighed lightly, resting your hands on his chest, “do you think that...it seems silly, but do you think that it'll ever happen? The nuclear war. Or do you think it’s all just a big pissing contest?”

“I think,” he took one of your hands and brought it to his lips in order to press a kiss to your knuckles, “that you worry too much too often.”

“I know,” you agreed, “I know I do. I just can't help it sometimes. What if something happens?”

“If anything were to happen, we’d face it together and figure it out,” he promised and while you liked the idea of his sweet words, it didn’t totally alleviate your worries. He’d been trying to convince himself as much as you. It had been a constant in his mind as well. He wasn’t as good of a liar as he believed he was.

“Rest assured Cooper Howard,” you whispered softly, “that I will always find you and be with you. No matter what life brings.”

He pressed his forehead to yours and let out a small sigh. You echoed the sound sweetly before kissing him again, “I promise, Coop.”

“I promise too.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Cooper?” your brow furrowed as you looked at the tall figure standing in front of you. The first time seeing a Ghoul had almost caused you to have a heart attack; you hadn’t been expecting to see someone so…crispy. Being asleep for the last two hundred years hadn’t prepared you for half the things you’d seen in the short time since you’d escaped Vault 111. Like the radroaches - seriously? Weren’t those things bad enough normal? Nature had definitely fucked up with that one.

Some things you could get used to easily, but other things were definitely going to take time. Two hundred years had passed and you hadn’t experienced a single thing. In some ways it felt like you’d been a lamb left to slaughter.

After you’d gotten over your initial shock at the Ghouls, you’d realized, with a heavy heart, that they were just people too. People had suffered unfortunate circumstances but they were still just people…mostly. Realistically you’d been rather lucky when it came down to it. You had a long nap while others suffered.

But you’d recognize him anywhere; you’d memorized every part of him so many years ago. You weren’t sure if you could ever forget him.

But this…this wasn’t who you were expecting to see. Honestly, you didn’t expect to see him ever again, but here he was…alive and breathing. Maybe.

“Cooper,” you took a step closer while he took a step back, his hand brushing along the holster at his side. You held up your hands in a meek attempt to show your innocence; it still made your heart constrict to see his response to you, “i-it’s me.”

“I’m ain’t fallin’ for that one, sweetheart,” he drawled, causing a frown to tug down the corners of your mouth, “I know when I’m hallucinating and I’m not about to go feral.”

“What are you…talking about?” you watched in confusion as he reached into his pocket and grabbed a small vial before downing it in one go. He tossed the bottle to the side, letting it clink off the side of a building, “I don't ... I don’t know what’s going on! I don’t understand anything here, but I know it’s you. I’d know you anywhere.”

He made a sound at the back of his throat as he blinked a few times, still looking at you as if he was trying to decide if he’d already gone feral or whatever it was called. You wondered if he would even possibly shoot you.

“That’s impossible,” he said quietly as he studied you. It was like you were frozen in time - you looked exactly the same as you did two hundred years ago. It wasn’t possible for you to look like that when he looked like…a monster, “you look just like her but you can’t be her.”

“Cooper Howard,” you sighed in exasperation, running a hand through your hair. You’d always done that and he’d seen that look on your face a thousand times before, “I don’t know exactly what happened to me. I-I woke up and I was in one of those weird vaults that they used to talk about and there was no else there. A couple of skeletons and a bunch of these giant cockroaches-”

“Radroaches.”

“Radroaches,” you rolled your eyes and that almost had him let down his guard, “and I got out. I don’t know what year it is and I don’t know what’s happened. I’m just here. And I have no fucking clue what I’m doing or where I’m going or what’s even happening in the world anymore. But I found you. I know it’s you. I told you that I’d always find you.”

He allowed himself to relax as he tried to put the pieces together to see if your story made sense. The worst part of it all was that it made sense. The day the life as he’d always known it stopped, he hadn’t seen you. But he knew that you’d been at the Vault-Tec headquarters that day. It made sense. It made sense.

He hated that. Hated that you were forced to experience this strange new world, and even more that you had been all but abandoned to figure it out for yourself. But he couldn’t deny that there was a palpable feeling running through his entire being at the sight of you. Your smile was just as pretty as he remembered; he thought about it a lot. Thought about you a lot, still to this day, despite the fact that it had been literal centuries.

He’d accepted that you were dead a long time ago. But here you were, a ghost of a life that once was.

You let out a nervous laugh at his silence, feeling like a fool, “are you gonna say anything or am I just going to keep standing here like an idiot?”

“You should turn back around and walk to the nearest vault and pray that they take you in,” was all he managed to choke out as you felt the tears start to sting at the back of your eyes. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to possibly even say to him, “you ain’t cut out for his world. You weren’t made for it. You ain’t gonna survive up here on the surface.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you stomped your foot, an unwitting little habit that you had, “you want me to just walk away?”

“Yeah,” he pulled the brim of his hat lower, voice gruff, “I do.”

“Oh,” you scoffed, trying to hold back all that you were feeling, “and what? You’re cut out for this world?”

“Look at me,” he growled deeply, “I’m a fuckin’ monster made for this world.”

You flinched at the sound of the self hatred in his voice. He wasn’t anything like you’d remembered or expected, but he was still your Cooper.

“You should get going, darlin’.”

You turned on your heel, ready to walk…somewhere. Anywhere other than there, left to be humiliated.

“Tell me one thing,” you turned back to face him, finding that he was still watching you intently, “what year is it?”

“2296.”

Your heart almost stopped for a moment as you tried not to panic.

Over two hundred years since you’d last walked the world. You’d been sleeping for over two hundred years while Cooper had been suffering. You had so many questions, but more than anything your heart hurt for everything that he’d been through.

You offered him a nod before walking away, this time for real, trying to figure out what the actual fuck you were going to do.

Cooper watched you go wordlessly, eyes on you until you were but a small speck in the distance.

“Who was that?” Lucy appeared at his side along with the canine companion they'd named Dogmeat, a curious expression on her face, “did you know her?”

“It was no one,” the sharpness of his voice caught Lucy off guard and she raised her eyebrows in question, “just lost.”

“Okie dokie,” she hitched her backpack higher onto her shoulders, “we should keep going before it gets dark.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with her, finding his heart wasn’t quite in it, “get a move on kid.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was a weird world. Like really weird. There were creatures that you'd encountered that appeared to be descendants of the ones you'd known during your previous life. Roaches definitely weren't supposed to be the size of dogs. Dogs really shouldn't have been up to your shoulders. And that thing that you'd encountered that was maybe a fish? Wild.

It was all so much to get used to and it felt like you were a child all over again. You had met a kind woman that had taken you into her diner (or whatever a diner was these days) and helped to get you back on your feet. The first order of business? Getting rid of the vault suit; not'd noticed an immediate shift in how people treated you once the suit was gone.

The one thing that hadn't changed? Men. Men continued to the worst, leering shamelessly after you. Looks like not even radiation can evolve that out of men.

You still had not clue what you were going to do with your life or anything really, but at least now you had a safe space to learn to adapt and overcome. Now you just had about two hundred years of history to catch up on. Learning about places called the New California Republic and New Vegas definitely told you that something big had happened.

Everything else, you hoped, would fall into place over time. You did, however, have your suspicions that Vault-Tec were nothing but a bunch of liars confirmed. There was that at least. And you'd learned what a Ghoul was - what Cooper was. It didn't sound like it had been a fun reality for him.

At least if you were going to start aging naturally, you wouldn’t have to suffer in this hell forever.

You were helping around the diner one afternoon when the doors swung open to reveal Cooper, along with a young woman and a dog. Funny, you thought to yourself, Cooper had always adored dogs.

The rag dropped from your hand as blinked wordlessly at them. Neither you nor Cooper said anything, silence thick and heavy between the two of you.

“Do you have any pie?” The young woman asked, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips as she looked around, “and maybe some water?”

“S-sure,” you stammered nervously pointing at the table towards the back, “I'll get that pie.”

And just like that, Cooper was back in your life.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Without Cooper, you weren't quite sure what to do. Honestly, you had been sure what you'd do once you left the vault along, but you figured when you found him that things would fall into place…or make a little more sense anyway. But as you'd made your way through the skeletons that littered the vault, you weren't entirely convinced that this wasn't some sort of fever dream.

And Cooper had turned his back on you.

Only to come back to rescue you.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice dropping softly, almost like he was letting down his guard, “how did you end up in one of those pods?”

“I don't know,” you admitted, wiping your hands on your knees as you looked at him, “I-I remember bits and pieces but not the whole thing.”

He made a small sound of acknowledgment but didn’t say much else. You’d been wracking your brain for weeks now - ever since you’d escaped the vault - about what exactly happened before you took a centuries long nap.

“The last thing I really remember was speaking with that Maclean kid, the one that had recently started working at Vault-Tec. We got into an argument about something and he shoved me around and then…I think he hit me. The next thing I can remember is waking up.”

“Life is funny, ain’t it,” he pinched his brow before looking at you with a pained expression, “Hank Maclean is still alive. The girl I’ve been traveling with…she’s his kid. I think everyone finally found just what kind of a person he is. And it ain’t a good one.”

“He’s still alive,” you breathed out heavily, trying to decide if you were angry with him or…in a twisted way, thankful. You supposed the last two hundred years could have been a lot worse than just sleeping through them. But then again, if you’d been awake and aging, you’d have been long dead by now, “this is all so…weird.”

Silence fell over the two of you for a few bit, as you started at the roaring fire. It was dangerous, or so you’d been told by almost everyone you’d encountered. But somehow with Cooper by yourself, you didn’t feel scared or nervous.

“I looked for you,” he said after a short while as your attention snapped to him, “for a long time. Decades.”

“Really?” your voice cracked on the simple question as he nodded.

“After a while, I realized you were probably dead,” your heart twisted at that, “it was the only logical answer. Unless you’d ended up like me and I would never wish that on you.”

“What happened, Cooper?” you asked softly. You wanted to know but you also didn’t want to push him either. You still had so many questions about this strange new world, “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Your curiosity was one of the things I always loved about you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, almost sounding just as you remembered, “to put it simply, radiation. I got a little bit too much of that radiation and then I became like one of them radroaches, adapting and surviving.”

“Radiation,” you repeated softly, “fuck me. Am I going to-”

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured you, “radiation levels are livable now.”

“Oh,” you swallowed thickly as you gave him a nod, “that’s good…I think.”

“You don’t deserve to have to live in such a world,” he caught your eye and looked at you intently, “in a way I wished you’d never have had to experience it. It would have been easier if you’d just…died that day they dropped the bombs. But in a selfish way, I’m glad you’re here, sweetheart. Still the prettiest face I’ve ever seen.”

You snorted in amusement as your face warmed up, “still the biggest flirt I’ve ever met Cooper Howard. In a selfish way, I’m glad you’re here too.”

“You’re telling me that you’re happy to see his ugly old face?” he asked, his voice turning gruff and bitter, “darlin’, you could be looking at a gulper and it’d be a prettier sight.”

“What’s a gulper?” your mind reeled with possibilities of what in the actual hell a gulper was.

“I…nevermind,” you didn’t need to know about those horrors just yet, “there’s a lot of things that are prettier than I am.”

“Agree to disagree,” you insisted with a soft laugh, “I’m glad you’re here, you know. Even if it sucks and this whole world sucks. I’m glad you’re still here. Selfish or not.”

You stood up and brushed yourself off before walking over to him and plopping onto the ground next to him so you were facing him. You reached for his hand and took it in yours, giving it a squeeze so tender that it almost made him cry. He never thought he’d get to feel such a touch ever again.

“So,” you whispered softly, “what’s next?”

“You’re not ready to run for the hills and hide?” he joked, half serious.

“Nope,” you promised, “besides, what the fuck am I going to do here by myself? I know nothing about anything anymore.”

“Want to help me and the kind find Hank Maclean?” he asked as your eyebrows raised up, “it’s a long story.”

“I’m in,” you promised, “but there’s one thing I want to do first.”

“And what’s that, sugar?”

“This,” you leaned in and took his face in your hands, before gently leaning and kissing him. When you pulled away he looked at you in surprise, “that’s all.”

“C’mere,” he put his hands on your hips and hauled you onto his lap, “you should know better than to start something you can’t finish.”

“Oh, I fully intended to finish,” you grinned, “I’ve missed you, Coop.”

“I’ve missed you every day for a long time,” he sighed, “I’m not letting you go again.”

“Good.”

#cooper howard #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x fem!reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout tv #fallout #walton goggins

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 2 months

Text

By Your Side Always

Summary: You comfort Astarion after he breaks down due to your near-death experience.

The last thing you feel before the ground hits you is a burning hot pain in your stomach where a sword had run you through, your mouth opening in a small ‘oh’. The last thing you hear is a familiar voice screaming out your name, filled with anxiety and fear. The last thing you think about is how Astarion would react when he saw your body. Would he mourn? Would he continue on with his life as though nothing had happened? You hoped that he would find the strength to carry on and become his own person, unafraid of others. With the last of your strength, you try to search for his face, wanting to see the vampire you had fallen hard for one last time, but darkness claims you before your eyes can lock with his.

“Y/N!”

The first thing you feel when you wake up is the coldness of someone’s hand tightly wrapped around yours. The first thing you hear is the soft whisper of his voice telling you that you’re safe, that he’s right here with you, sending waves of reassurance through you. The first thing you think about is whether you’re in heaven or hell, but that wouldn’t make sense since Astarion was here. You were pretty sure you died or something when that sword ran you through.

“Y/N.” You look up into ruby red eyes filled with concern.

“Star.” The word catches in your dry throat, sending you into a coughing fit. Astarion quickly hands you some water and makes sure you finish it all before speaking again.

“Where are we?” You rasp.

“At camp, darling. Don’t you worry,” he presses a quick kiss to your forehead.

“The goblins –”

“All take care of, dearest!” He chirps, far too chipper for your liking.

“Astarion, what happened to me?” The smile falls from his face, ruby red eyes downcast. He stares at the bedroll you’re lying on, playing with the cloth of his tunic before looking back up at you, his smile no longer reaching his eyes.

“Nothing Shadowheart couldn’t fix.” The smile is plastered to his face, a facade perfected over the course of almost 200 years but you see right through it immediately.

“Did I die?” You decide to go straight to the point.

“Well, I don’t believe I’m dead dead so I doubt you’d be seeing me if you were in the afterlife,” he gives a hollow laugh.

“Astarion,” you frown. “You don’t have to fake anything around me, I won’t hurt you.”

His face falls, his genuine feelings shining through at your words and you automatically reach out but he pulls away to compose himself. He fears he will simply break down if you were to hold him right there and then, giving you more problems. He’s on the cusp of baring himself to you, and the very thought scares him. He searches your face, looking for signs that you will tear him down after he’s shown how vulnerable he is but as per usual, finds nothing. The nagging voice in his head, however, says otherwise and he’s torn between trusting you and trusting that voice.

“If it’s too much for you, you don’t have to say anything. I’m just worried about you bottling it all up, I don’t want to see you suffer.” You force yourself to sit up despite the sharp pain the action brings, schooling your face to ensure Astarion doesn’t notice the pain you’re feeling. He’s already struggling with his own emotions, you don’t want to add to his burden.

“I thought you were dead.” The words leave his lips in a whisper. “I was afraid, far more afraid than I’ve ever been. Your barely conscious body scared me far more than Cazador ever could. You were lying so still with that damn sword sticking out of you and all I could do was wish that you were still alive, still breathing as Shadowheart did everything she could to heal you.”

He squeezes your hand so tightly it begins to hurt, his bottom lip trembles and he bites down on it to stop the trembling. Astarion can feel tears pricking at the edges of his eyes, a lump swelling in his throat that he tries to choke down.

“Didn’t work for me,” you grin, pressing a kiss to his tear-stained cheek. “I’m right here, alive, and the goblin who tried to kill me is dead.”

He clutches at your sleeve, desperately hugging you as he inhales your scent and feels the warmth of your skin against his. You’re here, alive, warm. Your heart is beating, a steady thrum in your chest that fills his ears and reassures him that you’re safe.

“I’m sorry,” he presses his forehead against yours, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left your side, I should have been faster, I should have seen the attack coming.”

“I failed you.”

He shrinks at his words, body tensing up. Sharp nails dig into his palms as terror floods his mind. He failed you. You’d punish him for it, kick him out of the party, leave him to fend for himself. He can’t bear the thought of leaving your side, he can’t envision a future where you’re not there, lying right next to him as you hold him in your embrace. He doesn’t want to.

“My star,” you murmur, reaching out to wrap him in your arms despite the twinge of pain in your chest. You can feel him shaking and your heart shatters, an ache that is replaced by a wave of anger at Cazador for what he did to your lover. You nuzzle into his soft silver hair, pulling him close so that you can tuck him in your embrace. The pain from your stab wound is nothing, not when your beloved so clearly needs you right now.

“You didn’t fail me. I’m alive, you killed the goblin who attacked me, and you’re right here, by my side. That’s all I need.” Pressing your lips against the top of his head, you gently rub circles on his back all whilst cuddling him. He leans into your touch, gripping your shirt and curls against you, biting back his sobs. He’s supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around and yet here he is, getting all emotional while you console him.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you whisper, pressing comforting kisses all over his face. “I promise, I won’t leave or abandon you. You’ll always have a place with me.”

“You…mean it?” He hates how pathetic he sounds but the soft look in your eyes eases some of his worries. You look at him with such genuine love and care, eyes devoid of the lust he’s used to seeing in the prey he brought back for Cazador and devoid of the malice Cazador’s eyes always held. Your every touch is filled with gentleness and warmth, flooding him with a nice feeling he can’t quite describe, he only knows he can never get enough of it.

“Of course, Astarion. You’re my star, I’ll get lost without you.” If your younger self could see you right now, they would never believe their eyes. It wasn’t long ago when you would do anything to avoid physical contact, hissing whenever anyone brushed against you, even if by accident, and yet here you were, initiating a hug so tight that Astarion would have suffocated should he have needed to breathe.

Astarion squeezes his eyes shut, imprinting the feeling of your arms around him in his mind. He feels safe, loved, needed in your embrace.

“Promise me,” he chokes. “Promise me you’ll never put yourself in such danger again, innocents be damned. I don’t care what happens to anyone else, I just need you to be safe.”

“Then I’ll need you to continue fighting by my side to guard my back, don’t I?” You run your fingers through his hair, admiring how soft it is despite its owner clearly not having taken care of it in a good while.

“I suppose you do. After all, what will you ever do without me?” A hint of confidence floods back into him, a small smile playing on his lips. He gives you a grateful look, undead heart soaring at your declaration of your need for him.

“Hmm, I don’t ever want to find that out,” you give him a peck on the lips, “but I would like my star to at least clean himself up before cuddling with me any further.”

“Anything for my love,” he happily nuzzles you. “I’ll see you in a bit, Shadowheart should be here any time now to check up on you. After that I’m all yours.”

“And I’m all yours too,” you smile. “Now go.”

With one last kiss, he reluctantly leaves your side and you let out a sigh of relief. He was dealing with your near-death experience rather well considering how new he was to having someone to call his own.

“No more martyring then,” you chuckle to yourself, “not when there’s someone who cares so deeply about me.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance

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byoldervine · 5 months

Text

Motivation For Writing

Getting Off Your Butt:

1. Aestheticise it. Let the light in through the curtains, turn on your fairy lights, lay a blanket over your lap, light some candles, whatever you need to do to feel like a writer. The right vibes can go a long way

2. Picture that one scene. There’s almost always a moment you’re super excited about that basically inspired the whole book. Picture it, play it out in your head in full cinematic fanfare, gush to yourself about how cool it is and how everyone will love it, picture a future fanbase going nuts for it. You might get excited enough to go back to writing

3. Set a word count goal. During NaNoWriMo this year I think I wrote more than I ever have in one go. The thing that kept me coming back was the desire to not fall behind. I ended up with ~45K words after some complications irl caused me to drop off in the final few days, and that’s all just because I was adding up the 1667 a day word count goal and realising where I needed to be at to keep up. I definitely can’t stay as rigid as I did with 1667 words every single day, but seeing that you’re only a few hundred words off of a goal is super motivating - just be sure to set realistic, easy to achieve parameters for just general use, like 1000-2000 words per week. I know 200 words per day is a popular one for people trying to establish a writing routine that can’t dedicate forever to the craft

Maintaining Motivation:

1. Writing sprints. Writing sprints are a godsend for me, I like to set myself up in the living room with Abbie Emmons’ writing sprint video on. The video lasts two hours and is broken up into two parts; 25 minutes to write and 5 minutes for breaks between writing, so four 30 minute sprints overall. Having the timer and countdown with peaceful music and an aesthetic background is both relaxing and encouraging, as well as giving me a specific time for how much longer I have to push through. It’s easier for me to say “Okay, only ten more minutes, then you can take a break” then it is to say “Just keep going, we’re not stopping until I say so” which is too arbitrary for my brain to accept

2. Give yourself a choice. If you’re struggling to keep your focus, come up with a finish line and tell yourself you don’t have to do any more work once you’ve reached that point. Finish the paragraph, go for another five or ten minutes, keep it up until your next scheduled break. Whatever sounds realistic and doable without being overwhelming. And once you’ve met this goal, ask yourself if you still want to stop. With any luck, you’ll have gotten back into the zone and will choose to keep going. Maybe you’ll want to take a quick break but you’ll come back later on. And maybe you’ll decide that now actually is a good stopping point. Just remember that, if you do still want to stop, don’t force yourself to keep going. You can’t strike deals with yourself if you know you won’t keep your word and all you’ll end up doing is burning yourself out, which will lead to even less writing getting done

3. Try a new angle. If you can’t be bothered to write anymore, is there anything else you can do for your book? Plotting, editing, worldbuilding, character sheets, one-shots all that sort of thing can still be productive for your book while still being different enough to give your brain a slight respite. It also means less work in that particular area later on

Afterwards:

1. Organise. Clean up your workspace and put everything away so it’s nice and neat for when you come back to it. Or if you don’t need to pack things out the way, set it up in an aesthetically pleasing way so it will tempt you back next time. Let it give you the writer vibe

2. Take care of yourself. Get a drink, have a snack, walk about, stretch your limbs, take a breath, cuddle your pet. Something that gets you away from straining your eyes looking at text for a bit. This is also a good time to reward yourself if positive reinforcement is something you use on yourself. If you always feel shitty after your writing sessions, you won’t want to go back to it

3. Positive reflection. Make sure to tell yourself you did good, even if you didn’t get as much done as you would’ve liked or it isn’t up to a standard of quality you’re aiming for. That can all be fixed later on, and you’re infinitely better off than you would’ve been if you didn’t do it. Be proud of yourself. Tell yourself you’re proud of your hard work and your dedication and your effort. Remind yourself that this is a fun thing you like to do. Marvel over how insane it is that you’ve gotten this far - not many people do - and that you’ve got all this tangible work to prove you’ve accomplished something so many people wish they could pull off. If this isn’t fun overall, there’s no point

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ghoulishneeds · 1 month

Text

Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard

~NSFW Alphabet~

((I’m so sorry I want him so bad))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I hate to break it to you but you’re not gonna get much out of him. Just really a general once over and he’s tucking himself back into his pants, and back on his feet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’d be hard pressed to pick a favorite on himself. If he had to, his eyes. They’ve kept that, whiskey in sunlight color and he finds himself favoring that.

On his partner, anything particularly soft and fleshy. Tits, thighs, ass, stomach anything in that vicinity. He likes the way that skin feels under his rough hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Has a thing for cumming buried in you. Dragging you back, flush against him, pressing his weight down on you. I wouldn’t call it a “breeding” kink more like an ownership thing.

He likes watching it drip back out of you.

But if he’s feeling particularly mean, he likes painting your face nice and messy. He likes the look of indignation you give him, gets off on making you mad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sometimes likes taking on a more submissive role (very rarely)

He still needs control in some facet, but he’s not above teaching you how to tie a good knot, if you know what I mean.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The man’s been around for over 200 years, he knows what the fuck he’s doing. You’re in for a good ride.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl, but SPECIFICALLY when your arms are tied behind your back. He likes watching you struggle a bit to reach your own pleasure. Watching your tits bounce is an added bonus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely serious, I’d even say threatening. However, definitely consistently makes his little quips and remarks through the entire encounter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Bro looks like a hard boiled egg.

Moving on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Almost no intimacy, eye contact is even a power move from him. If you want intimacy from him you’re reeeeeaaaalllyyyy gonna have to work for it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I gotta be honest, I feel like he’s not doin it that often. Like, when he does it’s 100% a tension/stress release and he moves on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

B O N D A G E. I guarantee 9 times out of 10 you will be tied up in some way.

I also think he’s into knife play, he likes to mark you up a little. Leave his mark permanently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s not picky. Anywhere, anytime. Doesn’t matter to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A good fight gets him going. He likes it when you get a little feisty and fight back, try to run. Anything that triggers the hunter instinct really does it for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I gotta be honest I’m coming up blank here. I don’t really think he’s above doing anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Absolutely prefers receiving. Number one fan of skull fucking. Likes watching you drool around his cock while he pushes it down your throat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Very rough. Sets a fast, hard, punishing pace from the start and stays in it. You ache for DAYS after.

That’s fine though, he likes watching you wince when he fucks you the next time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

They’re frequent. You’re in the desert jumping from town to town. Any chance he gets, he takes.

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R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Nothing makes him nervous. He takes risks left and right. Big fan of semi public fucking. He likes watching you struggle to stay quiet.

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S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Decent stamina, lasts for a good amount of time. But let’s face it, mans is suffering from radiation poisoning, he probably needs a second after to catch his breath.

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T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

That’s a big ol nope.

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U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he loves to tease. He’ll make little comments throughout the day. Says outright vulgar things. Grinds himself up against you every chance he gets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not particularly loud but runs his mouth the whole time. He says absolutely filthy things. Little grunts and curses.

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W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Secretly, desperately craves intimacy but would drop dead before asking for it.

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X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Thick and curved. Probably an average length. Probably looks the same as the rest of him. (Insert ribbed for her pleasure joke here)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s probably got a high sex drive. When he wants it, he takes it. Ready to go just about whenever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You’re not fully convinced he even sleeps. He’s careful to make sure you’re asleep before him, not wanting to let his guard down like that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #cooper Howard headcanon #the ghoul headcanon #the ghoul x reader smut

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 3 months

Text

Hypersexual

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: reference to SA if you squint?, Astarion being soft, reader being defensive af, persistent Astarion, happy ending because I'm weak

————————————

It was one of the first things Astarion noticed about you. Your bed was rarely empty. The Grove, the Goblin Camp, the Underdark, Moonrise Towers, etc. Everywhere you went you seemed to have a warm body beside you by the end of the night. Himself included. He pined for your attention. Feeding from you daily brought you close, sleeping with you brought you closer, opening up bit by bit brought you even closer. And yet, he could still find the occasional rando leaving your tent at first light. If he listened closely enough, he could almost always hear sniffles coming from your tent every time someone left. He typically ignored it, opting to not care so he didn’t get attached. Unfortunately for him, he was attached. He had been for a while and seeing people leave your tent was like a knife to the chest every time. He wanted to confront you eventually, so that's what he did.

He walked over to your tent, hearing the sniffles intensify the closer he got. When he peered inside he saw your naked form, balled up tight, sobbing quietly. He saw the hickies and claw marks the tiefling from last night had left on you. “Y/N?” he whispered.

You swiftly wiped your tears away as you moved to cover yourself up. “Astarion, darling. It’s so early, is everything alright?” You threw on the best smile you could manage while willing yourself to shed no more tears.

“Why are you crying?” he asked as he moved into your tent fully.

“Tears of pleasure.” you waved him off, doing your best to sound lustful.

“You’re a terrible liar, my sweet.” he said as he sat opposite from you but still giving you space.

You sighed, rolling your eyes, “Why do you care anyways?” you cringed internally, that sounded harsher than you intended.

Astarion’s eyes softened a bit, “Because I care for you.” he said honestly.

“Because I’m your blood bag,” you scoffed. “Worry not, I’m well enough for you to feed so… get on with it I guess.” you said as you tucked your hair behind your ear, leaning in for him to chomp down on your pulse point.

Yet you felt nothing but the cold night air. Your eyes found his after a moment of hesitation. “What?” you said.

“You are so much more than food.” he said, a guilty look on his face. Is that all you thought of him? Somebody using you? “Why do you sleep with them?” he asked suddenly, trying to connect the dots in his head.

Your eyes widened, “It’s none of your business.” you said, your voice wavering. “I like sex, so why not?” your eyes avoided his, afraid he would see the truth in them.

“Terrible liar.” he whispered, his foot tapping against your knee trying to get your attention.

“Because it makes it all hurt a little less!” you yelled, his consistent questioning pushing you over the edge. “Because it fills the fucking void somebody put inside me. They used me, they hurt me. So if I can be desired, even for a moment, I will.” you felt tears stream down your cheeks as Astarion watched you, his mouth slightly agape. “This horrible feeling sits inside me like tar. Black and oozing and there is nothing I can do to fix it. I sleep with them because I want to know I can still be desired if I cannot be loved.”

“Who said you cannot be loved?” he said, leaning forward to wipe a tear from your face with his thumb.

“I… I just can’t… nobody can love me after what they did to me. Taking my body, playing with it while I just laid there… frozen. I thought they loved me…” you mumbled, memories from your past flooding you.

“I love you.” he said simply.

Your head whipped up to gaze at him, “You don’t even know what love is Astarion.” you turned away from him so he couldn’t see you cry.

“On the contrary… I have seen lust. I did it for 200 years. But this ache I have inside me, the longing I have for you and only you. That, I believe, is love. And… I like to imagine you feel the same way.” Astarion put a hand on your shoulder, moving slowly when you initially flinched away.

“How can you love me? Aren’t you disgusted?” you whimpered. You wanted to believe him so badly, but how could you? You were made to be used.

Astarion shifted so he could see you as he tilted your quivering chin upwards. “For sleeping with others? Darling I have bedded thousands.” he rubbed your cheek reassuringly.

“That’s different. You didn’t have a choice.” you said, your voice coming out strained.

“I would argue that you didn’t either. When someone violates you like that… I’ve seen it go two ways. You overindulge, or you isolate. Both are natural reactions. Yours was to try and find solace, penance in others. None of it is shameful… it’s just… how things are I suppose.” he said, struggling a bit to find the right words but you felt the connection he was trying to make.

“Each of them took a little piece of my soul… I’m not sure how much is left of me to give.” you shuddered in a breath, trying to calm yourself.

“I don’t want your soul… All I ask is your heart, in exchange for mine.” he smiled at you, moving to hold your hand while he cupped your cheek. You had never seen eyes with so much sincerity and kindness.

“I… I’d like that.” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his for a moment before your eyes opened once again with worry. “Do we have to…” you motioned between the two of you and the bedroll.

“Not until you want to. Completely, freely.” he nodded at you.

“And if I never want to?” you asked cautiously.

“Then I will love you all the same.” he leaned in slightly. He could feel your breath on his lips but waited for you to close the gap.

You kissed him softly. He could feel the fear and apprehension in your kiss. While you felt the patience and adoration in his.

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello lovelies! Hope ya'll like this one as well. Two in one night? What a deal lol I really like this one. Is it a bit of a trauma dump? Yes but writing is how I get it out and Astarion would 10000% comfort me through any of it. We love a supportive king. What a guy. Anyways! - be safe everyone, see ya'll soon!

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lecsainz · 7 months

Note

Could you write friends to lovers with Ollie Bearman? Something really fluffy where they realise they have feelings for each other, thank you.

OUT OF MY CONTROL

˒ ⌕ masterlist . . .

parings: ollie bearman + fem!reader

summary: the one where you and ollie are best friends and ollie finally creates the courage to declare yourself.

🗒️ : best friends to lovers are definitely my favorite trope!

type: fluff ಇ

Ollie had known Y/N for as long as he could remember. He first met the girl with y/h/c hair in elementary school. Ollie remembered the six-year-old Y/N approaching the seven-year-old Ollie, taking his hand, and saying, "You're my boyfriend." At the time, young Ollie had bolted away from her, and every time he saw her, he'd hide. That was until the day Y/N decided she wanted another boy to be the father of her dolls and chose the boy who always ran from her to be her best friend.

Today, all Ollie wanted was for his best friend to see him in a different light. Not that Ollie was afraid to make a move, as he was popular among the girls, but he was afraid that Y/N would distance herself from him as she did with any other boy who wasn't Ethan – a guy Ollie disliked.

What did that blond boy, who played football, have that he didn't? He raced a car at almost 200 km/h and was afraid to compete with someone who kicked a ball.

He couldn't recall when he started having feelings for Y/N. Maybe it was during his first race when she showed up wearing a shirt with his number, or perhaps it was during the countless nights they spent talking at each other's houses. It might have been when he saw his best friend cry over Ethan, either because they had broken up or because they weren't speaking. The fact that he couldn't remember didn't change anything, but he simply wanted to be able to call her his. His girl. His girlfriend. Not just his best friend.

One sunny afternoon, Ollie and Y/N found themselves sitting in the park, chatting away about various topics, as they often did. The laughter flowed effortlessly, and the warmth of their friendship was evident. Ollie knew that he had to find the courage to confess his feelings soon, and he couldn't think of a better place to do it.

As they watched the children playing on the swings, Ollie's heart raced, and he decided it was now or never. He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words.

"Y/N, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while," Ollie began, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

Y/N turned to him, her eyes curious. "What is it, Ollie?"

Ollie took a deep breath and looked deeply into her eyes. "Y/N, you mean the world to me. You've been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and I cherish every moment we've spent together. But lately, I've started to feel something more, something beyond friendship. I don't know when it happened, but I've fallen for you, Y/N."

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Y/N looked at Ollie, her eyes wide with surprise. The weight of his confession hung in the air, and Ollie felt like his heart was in his throat.

Y/N's expression softened, and she reached out to gently touch Ollie's hand. "Ollie, I... I don't know what to say."

Ollie couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety. Had he just ruined their friendship? Would she distance herself from him?

But then Y/N smiled, a warm and genuine smile that made Ollie's heart skip a beat. "You know, Ollie, I've been waiting for you to say that for a long time."

Ollie's eyes widened in surprise. "You have?"

Y/N nodded. "Yes, I have. I've been feeling the same way, Ollie. I just didn't want to ruin our friendship by saying anything. But now that you've said it, I can't hold back any longer. I've fallen for you too."

Relief and happiness washed over Ollie. He couldn't believe his luck. "Y/N, you have no idea how happy that makes me."

With a mixture of excitement and relief in the air, Ollie and Y/N leaned closer to each other. The world seemed to fade away as they closed the distance between them, their hearts pounding in anticipation. Their lips met in a soft and tender kiss, sealing the confession of their feelings.

It was a gentle, sweet kiss, filled with the promise of a new beginning. Ollie's hand cupped Y/N's cheek, and her fingers gently threaded through his hair as they shared a moment that had been a long time coming.

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lets-just-daydream · 8 months

Text

i wanted more to astarion's storyline at cazadork's palace so here we are with my overactive imagination. also a hug for astarion because bro needs it

Summary:

It's almost time. Beyond the large ornate doors you'll find Cazador; you steel yourselves but a whisper of your name catches your attention from one of the prisoners behind the gate. An old flame.

(aka imagine you run into an old friend instead of astarion running into sebastian)

"No really, tell me more," Astarion said, barking out a laugh.

You hid behind your goblet of wine and laughed at his curiosity. "Have I really never told you about him?"

You had offhandedly mentioned an old flame of yours from a couple of years ago and this piqued Astarion's interest. The two of you sat side-by-side in front of the campfire, the rest of your company already retired to bed and as per usual, you and Astarion were still up.

"No, you haven't. So go on, tell me everything," Astarion said.

How to explain your strange relationship with Xavier. "Well, he's from a more or less noble family in Baldur's Gate and his father never really approved of our friendship. You know, with me being not at all noble."

Astarion kept quiet, sipping his wine as you explained.

"We spent a lot of time together and one day, I stopped seeing him as a friend and I fell in love with him, I think. He felt the same, too. He was walking me home one night after we'd been out at a tavern and when he saw me to my door, he kissed me."

You smiled and your cheeks flushed slightly at the memory. Astarion raised a brow and felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest at your expression. He couldn't help but wonder. Who was this man? Why wasn't he around anymore? Did you still love him?

You cleared your throat and continued. "After that night… I never saw him again. I assume his father found out about us and had him sent off and married to some noblewoman."

"What? He kissed you and then he disappeared?"

"Yes. I still don't know what he's up to now but I hope he's happy and out of his father's clutches."

Astarion put his wine down. You had fallen in love, kissed him and he had disappeared after the fact and you weren't cursing his name to the hells and back? Astarion figured you'd be at least a little bit slighted but you only wished the best for this Xavier.

"Do you still love him?"

You looked up at the pale elf and let out a laugh. "No, that was a long time ago. I still get a bit sad when I think back on it because we were so naïve and full of hope for the future," you said, a wistful smile on your lips.

Astarion knew this man could still be out there. You could still find him and return to him and at that thought he felt his chest burn. He didn't want you to find Xavier. Astarion wanted to be the one you thought of when you had these small wistful smiles on your face.

Sure, the sex you two had a couple times since meeting was great and Astarion had told you that his feelings were more than superficial at this point. But in an act of self-preservation he hadn't told you just how intense his feelings for you were. He figured you felt at least a little bit the same but this Xavier revelation threw him for a loop.

The elf played it off and held his hand out to you which you took. "Still, that must have been awful for you."

You nodded and didn't much feel like reminiscing on the past anymore. Instead, you decided to look to the journey ahead and what you were doing tomorrow. The real reason Astarion was still up tonight.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Astarion?" You asked as you stared into the flames of the campfire.

Astarion raised a brow at you in question.

You sighed. "Tomorrow. Cazador."

The vampire's gaze flicked to the fire then back to meet yours and he shot you a sure grin that you had learned to see right through a long time ago. "Of course I am. I've only been waiting 200 years for this."

You didn't have the heart to tell him off for the mask he slipped on. Normally you'd tell him that he didn't need to hide his true feelings from you, that you understood him and would never exploit his trust. And with time, he really had learned to trust you. You got to see a side of him he rarely ever showed and you were grateful. It made your heart beat for him in a way you had never experienced before.

But tonight, the tension and uncertainty in the air with how tomorrow would go down, you granted him this.

"I know you've been ready forever but, just know that if it gets too much at any point, I've got your back. We all do," you reassured him. "Just say the word."

Astarion gave you a rare, soft smile in appreciation and leaned over to drape his arm over your shoulders.

"I don't know what tomorrow will bring," Astarion said, his voice serious. "I don't even know if it will happen how I've forever dreamed it would. Pissing on his ashes, enjoying his screams as I tear each digit and limb from his body." Astarion sighed. "Maybe I'll die before I even get to lay a finger on him."

Your heart dropped. "Perish the thought," you said sternly. You turned to face him fully and you rested your hands gently on his cheeks. "I will never let anyone hurt you. Especially not Cazador."

Astarion's lip curled into a slight smile at the way you spat his master's name. You seemed like you hated Cazador as much as Astarion did without ever meeting the man. Not that you needed to. Astarion had told you countless horror stories of his life under his master that made your blood boil and tears threaten to spill.

You stroked his cheek with your thumb. "I'm sorry he took so much from you, I feel awful for what he did to you over these 200 years. I can't even begin to imagine it. And I… I feel strange to say it but I'm glad I met you."

Astarion's brows shot up in surprise and you thought you had gone too far. Too intimate. You dropped your hands but he grabbed one and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly before letting out a sigh. "I'm glad I met you too, you're remarkable and I sometimes feel…" he trailed off. Now it was his turn to get flustered.

"What?" You coaxed.

"No, it's stupid," Astarion muttered as he looked at the ground. A very rare moment of insecurity.

You turned his face back to you and held his gaze, your eyes boring into his. "If you don't want to continue, that's alright."

"It's just…" He struggled. "I don't know. There's some moments, when we're talking like this or even in the middle of our romps, I feel as though I've lived this long because I was meant to meet you."

His words caused you to still and you felt your eyes water as he held your gaze, unsure of how you'd react to his candor.

"Oh, Astarion," you gasped as you leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug.

He held you in his arms and buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent, committing it to memory. He didn't know what tomorrow held. He didn't know if he'd make it out alive. But he had you and that was enough for tonight.

You awoke in Astarion's tent the following morning, his arms wrapped around you tight and one of your hands in his hair. Before he had even properly risen you could feel the tension in his body. You can't imagine the stress he must have felt all night. Today was the culmination of 200 years of misery, pain and torture and you meant to end it.

You stroked your fingers through Astarion's hair and he stirred, his eyes opening and landing on you.

"Good morning, beautiful," he greeted, his voice deep from sleep. "What a sight to wake up to."

You smiled and stroked his soft hair, wishing you could just… lean forward and give him a soft, loving kiss.

When you moved to get up, Astarion held you firmly in place, his eyes never leaving yours. Words on his lips that he didn't know how to formulate. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours softly. Soft enough that you could escape if he had misread everything. But he hadn't. You leaned into the kiss and slid your hand down to cradle his head as you pulled back. He chased you and held you firmly in place as he deepened the kiss, his movements almost desperate as he rolled you over and landed on top of you.

"Astarion," you breathed.

This was happening. Intimacy. Outside of just having sex. Or maybe this was leading to that but this kiss just felt different.

"Gods, I love the way my name sounds coming from your lips," he whispered against your skin before ravishing your lips once again.

He slipped his tongue inside your mouth and you granted him entry. You were mere putty in his embrace and you moaned softly as he cradled your head in his hand, his movements gentle but with an undertone of urgency. Like this would be the last time he would get to kiss you. You could understand the sentiment and tangled your fingers in his soft hair, pulling him close and taking his bottom lip into your lips, causing him to let out a breathy moan.

You had to eventually pull away to catch your breath, your heaving chest, flushed cheeks and parted lips made quite the sight and Astarion wasn't ready to let you go just yet. He leaned down to claim your lips again.

"Astarion, are you awake yet?" Gale called from outside his tent.

Astarion let out an annoyed huff before looking down at you, hoping that his actions could speak where words failed him today. He gives you one last soft kiss. "We'll finish this later."

You could only nod back dumbly as he stood and offered you a hand. Astarion stepped out of his tent and shot Gale a glare, holding the flap open for you to leave.

"Ah," Gale said to you. "Sorry about that, didn't realise that you were also in there…"

You waved him off and moved to your tent where you dressed and readied yourself for today's stomach-churning quest.

Getting into and around the Szarr's palace was surprisingly easy. Astarion charmed the guards on the way in and you were met with little resistance when you entered.

"Being back here…" Astarion shivered. "Can we just get this over and done with as quickly as possible?"

You made eye contact with Gale and Shadowheart and nodded.

You searched the palace as quickly as possible while Astarion sadly explained his memories of the places you wandered. You wanted to stop and give him a hug at every discovery you made but you'd be here forever if you did. You painfully kept your hands to yourself until you found an ornate ring that looked rather important.

After some more exploring, you found an elevator that even Astarion didn't know existed. But as soon as you all stepped in and started descending, he became even more nervous. His body stiffened and his eyes became steely. You stepped closer to him and offered him your hand which he took with a hint of a smile.

You descended into one of the most ornate but cold hallways you'd ever seen. It was grandiose, but uncomfortable and with a sense of foreboding. You all knew Cazador was somewhere down here preparing for the unthinkable. None of you could say a word. No funny quips about the architecture or loot you found.

You slowly descended the stairs and stepped towards the doors in front of you. Astarion's grip on your hand tightened slightly and you rubbed your thumb against his skin, trying your best to soothe him. You didn't think anything could soothe him right now.

Your heart beat intensely in your chest and you felt like you could vomit. You can't imagine how Astarion is feeling right now, about to walk back into the clutches of his master, not knowing if he would prevail. No. He would prevail and you would help him.

Astarion glanced around and you opened the doors, holding your breath and peeking through. You didn't see Cazador, but you could hear murmurs. Voices. You cautiously stepped through and were met with two large cells either side of the hallway, all filled with dirty, ragged looking people.

Astarion dropped your hand and it flew to his mouth. His eyes widened as he looked at the people in the cells. He recognised these people. He knew these people. These were people he had killed years and years ago. Or so he thought. He approached a cell and looked in at the countless people he had brought to Cazador. People he thought his master would feed on and then discard. But no. There were hundreds of ragged spawn.

"I… I don't believe it." Astarion gasped. "I never knew… Cazador was doing this."

At hearing Astarion's voice, the spawn in the cells turned to look at you and it was clear that a few of them recognised him. But to your surprise you heard a soft call of your name. The voice was vaguely familiar and your heart dropped.

You turned to the source of the voice and found yourself face-to-face with a haggard, red-eyed Xavier.

"X-Xavier…?" You asked, shocked. You felt like you were about to faint. "What are you doing here?"

You stepped towards the cell and he mirrored you, gripping the bars with his dirty fingers.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. "They didn't get you too, did they?"

You glanced at Astarion and if it were even possible, he was paler than usual.

"No, I'm– We're here to help you," you replied softly. You let your hand slide up the bar and come to meet Xavier's hand. Tears welled in your eyes and your voice became strained. "How long have you been here?"

Xavier's face scrunched as he tried to remember. "Hmm. I think… That night I walked you home and we kissed. I was so happy and unaware of anything around me. On my way home one of Cazador's spawn took me. It's all I've been able to think about. It's one of the only things I remember."

Your head spun and you felt like you could throw up. "No," you gasped. "T-Two years… You've been here all this time?"

The tears you'd tried to hold back fell all at once as you looked up at the man you once loved. "All this time," you sobbed. "I'd hoped your father had forced you off to marry some noblewoman."

Xavier smiled and rubbed your whitening hands where they still held the bars. "No. But even so, I would have come back to you. Somehow."

You stood back up and wiped the tears from your face. "I'm going to get you out of there, you're going to be okay."

Xavier nodded and looked over your companions gratefully until he landed on Astarion. "No…"

You sensed Astarion stiffen behind you and you hoped the dots you were staring to connect weren't true. You prayed, you hoped, you begged silently. But Xavier's next words pierced through you like an icy lance.

"You brought me here…"

You turned and looked at Astarion and he couldn't meet yours nor Xavier's gaze. He stared down at the floor and nodded, his eyes hooded and unreadable. He knew what he'd done. He knew what he'd caused you to lose. The words you spoke last night could only extend so far and now that you knew it was Astarion who had caused Xavier's disappearance. How could you forgive him? He couldn't bear to look you in the eye.

Shadowheart stepped forward and put a hand on your shoulder. "Come on, let's go deal with that monster and free your friend, okay?"

You nodded, your body moving in slow-motion as you approached the large ornate doors that held Astarion's fate on the other side.

It was a hard battle, made harder when you had to dodge through Cazador's minions to free Astarion from the binds of the ritual. The whole time you fought, you thought of the pain Xavier had gone through, the agony and torture Astarion had gone through and quickly enough, the pale elf had his master on his knees.

Astarion was right on the edge of having it all. Being an ascended vampire. He could walk in the sun after the tadpole had been dealt with, he wouldn't have to fear anyone again. He'd be a greater vampire than Cazador ever was. He asked for your help. But you know such great power never came free. There was always a cost.

What toll would sacrificing thousands of souls take on Astarion? Sweet, tortured Astarion who had been through hell and back and had made leaps and bounds to start becoming a better man. Someone you had grown to love. You couldn't bear to see him ripped apart like this.

But then again. You could help to give him this awesome power so few could ever be granted. You did want this for him, really, but your thoughts wandered back to Xavier and the countless other spawn who were waiting to be freed. Who you'd promised this to.

You looked back up at Astarion and shook your head. You imagined the life he could have. "Please don't do this, Astarion. Don't you want to live a life you can be proud of? I know you're better than him."

At your words, the fog in Astarion's mind cleared and he looked down at Cazador, blade in his hand. "You're right. I can be better than him." Astarion's gaze flicked down to a pleading Cazador. "But I'm not above enjoying this."

Before you knew what was happening, Astarion stabbed Cazador, hacking at him over and over until the former master was nothing but a lifeless, bloody corpse. You felt a fraction of the gratification Astarion must have felt as Cazador's screams filled the chamber before slowing into a gurgle and finally stopping. The pale elf dropped the blade and stepped back, a pained cry ripping through his throat. He'd done it. He was free.

He was free.

At this astronomical realisation, Astarion dropped to his knees and cried. He cried for the man he was when his heart still beat, cried for the centuries of torture he'd endured and cried for the life he'd had stolen from him. The culmination of 200 years of torture beyond belief and the aggressor was finally dead.

Astarion cried out again and you stepped toward him and knelt beside him. He suddenly felt warmth as you enveloped him in a hug and he held onto you, turning to face you and sobbing into your neck.

"My sweet Astarion," you whispered. "It's over now. I'm so proud of you."

At this, he sobbed harder for a moment and you ran your fingers through his hair and rubbed comforting circles into his scarred back. You didn't rush him, Gale and Shadowheart said nothing and let him take all the time he needed. After another moment, Astarion leaned back and caressed your face, his own face streaked with tears, blood and dirt. You saw how teary he was and the mixture of disbelief and hope for his future and your heart squeezed.

His brothers and sisters were freed from their magical shackles and one of his sisters approached, asking if it really was finally over.

"Yes."

Astarion then explained to his brothers and sisters what to do, where to take the freed spawn and wished them good luck. As they left, he stood and took Cazador's staff in hand, the following movements came to Astarion instinctively as he pressed it to the ground to free the thousands of trapped vampire spawn.

You smiled as you watched him. You truly were proud of Astarion, he would still be self-preserving and perhaps paranoid after you left but you hoped as time went by, he would be able to relax. Truly enjoy his freedom. You heard voices from the other side of the doors as Astarion's brothers and sisters greeted the other spawn. Your mind wandered to Xavier. At least he would have a chance at a new life, whatever that life may be.

"I think we're done here," Astarion said, tired. "Let's go."

You draped his arm over your shoulder and helped him up the stairs as Gale and Shadowheart led the way. They stopped at the top and shared a look before looking to you and stepping aside. The spawn had started filtering out but one remained near the cells. Xavier.

You approached him slowly, Astarion still hanging off your shoulders. Gale stepped forward and took Astarion off of you so you could have a moment. Astarion shot him a look but they lingered within earshot much to Gale's dismay.

"You did it. You freed us," Xavier smiled.

"Of course we did. I promised you that I would," you said. You swayed slightly on the spot and Xavier stepped forward, taking your hand in his.

"Will you come with me?" He breathed.

You almost weren't sure what he said but the way Astarion bristled and lowly hissed, you figured you'd heard correctly. Your blood ran cold and you were thrown back to 2 years ago, Xavier's kiss and the smile he gave before he left, promising to see you soon.

"Look, I," you didn't even know where to start. Your heart broke for him and the life you could have had together but you had closed that chapter long ago. You knew who your heart belonged to now, if the pale elf wanted it.

You tried to form into words your thoughts. How to explain that while Xavier's life was at a standstill, you continued living, loving and growing. Your heart ached as you tried to form the thought of, 'you know that vampire spawn who brought you here? Well I'm actually in love with him now, so…'

"Don't tell me it's him," Xavier gestured to Astarion who looked about ready to rip the former's head off. "He… he ruined my life, our lives."

You felt tears well in your eyes. You knew how hard this must be for him. He's thought of you nonstop for 2 years and you were about to tell him the man who ruined his life is the man you were choosing. But you knew Astarion. He wasn't that man anymore.

"Xavier, I can't go with you," you said. "I still have so much to do and… it is him." You sighed. This wasn't how you wanted to confess your love for the vampire spawn. You imagined it on a night you were alone and having a gentle moment. But here you were in front of your former love, your companions and the object of your affections all hanging onto your every word. "I know it's hard to come to terms with, Xavier… But it's always going to be Astarion."

You didn't see it but Astarion smiled and his face gained a bit of colour once again at your words. Xavier nodded and pursed his lips. He understood. He didn't like it, but he did understand and the finality in your voice told him that you weren't changing your mind.

"Well," Xavier said, lifting your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. "If you ever do change your mind I'll be somewhere in the Underdark. I'll wait for you forever."

"Please don't do that," you whispered, your voice hoarse.

Xavier smiled and gently dropped your hand, turning to follow his coven of vampires to start a new life.

You sighed and watched as he left, years welling in your eyes. No one moved an inch until Gale and Astarion shuffled over to you and you felt a hand slip around your waist.

"Darling," Astarion breathed.

You could form no words and now it was your turn to cry in Astarion's arms. His skin was still caked in blood and sweat but you didn't care. He held you and stroked your hair as you sobbed into the crook of his neck.

"H-he was down here all along," you sniffed. "And I didn't know. I could have looked for him or… I don't know."

Realistically you knew you could never have done anything but you still felt like Xavier's fate was somehow your fault. Well, it wasn't your fault. Really it was Cazador's fault… Astarion's fault.

"Why him?" You asked, pulling back and looking up at Astarion with watery eyes.

He knew this was coming, honestly. You'd want to know why. How could Astarion pluck someone so innocent from the shadows who he knew was having such a wonderful night? You knew Astarion watched his victims, picked them carefully. He'd told you so himself. So, of course you'd want answers. And he knew that you knew it wasn't personal - he was doing what Cazador told him to. But it didn't hurt you any less.

"Let's get out of this dreadful place, clean ourselves up and we can talk," Astarion offered.

You nodded silently and stepped away from him, leading your small group out of the castle and to the tavern the rest of your group organised upon entering the city.

No one spoke another word the whole trek from the castle to the tavern. The rest of your companions swarmed you at the door but fell short when they saw your grief-stricken face, Astarion's unreadable expression and Shadowheart and Gale's awkward side-eyes.

You stepped past everyone, gathered some of your clothes and retreated into the bathroom wordlessly. Astarion watched you the whole time, wondering if this was it. Was this the straw that would break the camel's back? Would you send him away? He supposed now that he was free, he didn't really have anyone to fear anymore, he might be able to make it alone.

Alone. Not a feeling he was used to anymore. Not a feeling he wanted to experience, especially if it meant losing you.

In the bathroom, you were pleased to see that the bath was already filled with warm water, so you stripped your dirty clothes off and entered the bath. A sigh escaped from your lips and you let the water rush over your body, your thoughts stilling for a moment before you let out a choked sob once again.

You rested your head behind you on the tub and stared at the ceiling. What possible explanation could Astarion even give you? Xavier was one person in thousands that had fallen victim to Cazador's plot, Astarion included. But it didn't hurt any less.

The door to the bathroom opened slightly and you saw white curly locks poke through the gap. "May I come in?" Astarion asked.

"Sure," you said, your voice monotone. Flat. Not something he was used to hearing from you.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, standing in front of it. His movements were careful, unsure. He stood by the door with his hands clasped together as his eyes shot from the floor, to you, to his surroundings and back to the floor.

He took a deep breath. "I know there's nothing I can say to make this better. I can't take it back and I can't fix it."

You said nothing, waiting for him to piece his thoughts together.

"I've told you what it was like, being Cazador's slave. I did what I had to, to survive and that included bringing people to him that didn't deserve it," Astarion stepped towards you and knelt by the bathside, finally meeting your eyes.

You'd seen true sadness in people's eyes before and you had caught Astarion in moments of sadness previously. But this was different. He wasn't just sad, he was sorrowful, and fearful. You almost reached out to smooth out the wrinkles on his brow but he continued talking.

"I know he meant a great deal to you and I… ruined so much. I'll do anything to show you I'm sorry. And if that includes…" Astarion trailed off and gulped before continuing. "If that includes me leaving this camp, then I will. I'll leave and that will be that."

"No!" You cried, leaping onto your knees and wrapping your arms around him. "No, I don't want you to leave, ever."

Water splashed onto the floor and dripped all over Astarion but he didn't care. He wrapped his arms around your naked torso and held you close, squeezing slightly as if you might float away and disappear.

You craned your neck back and looked at him. "I am upset. And… It is sad to learn Xavier's fate, but I did mean what I said down in those dungeons," you whispered. "It's you. It's always been you and for as long as you want me, it's you I want."

You hardly knew what was happening before you felt Astarion press his lips to yours in a searing, passionate kiss. It took your breath away and he poured his love for you and fear of losing you into it, never had you ever been kissed like that and you couldn't help but return it. His lips captured yours and you felt his fangs nick your skin but you didn't care, you opened your mouth up to him and he didn't hesitate in slipping his tongue in, tilting your head back so he had complete control over you. It felt like if your bodies could meld together they would and your breathing turned heavy as you fought with not wanting to break the kiss but needing to pull away for air.

You eventually broke the kiss, your chest heaving as you gulped for air. You eyed the pale elf in front of you and looked like he was ready to pounce on you again. You let out a light chuckle and sat back in the bath again.

"Would you like to join me? I'll clean you up."

"My love," Astarion whispered as he stood, removing his clothes. "I'll join you anywhere."

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #red writes

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egophiliac · 1 year

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Wait, is Lilia canonically 700? I thought he was thousands of years old. Did I miss something in Chapter 7....

I thought so too! the stuff about his real birthday being lost to time, the way he talks about the planetary alignment thing that only happens every 100 years, and other things like that made me think he was waaaay older than he is. but nope, in 7-26 he says he's just shy of turning 700! (so he's actually like. 699.) his particular type of fae can live to around 1000, but he's running down early because he pushed himself too much when he was younger (and also he plays too many online games) (he was probably not serious about that but c'mon, man, at least use a blue-light filter or something).

meanwhile, Mal is from a much longer-lived race that doesn't even reach adulthood until 1000 (500 is young adult, and 200 is still a little fledgeling dragon baby). Lilia doesn't say exactly how old he is, except that he's developmentally a "little" older than the third-years (so like about 20 in dragon years? ...can Leona sense this. is this part of why he sees Malleus as his Eternal Rival.) which means he's probably somewhere around or just under 500.

...I just realized that, depending on when it happened, this means Lilia might've been, like, mentally a teenager during the flashback of The Time Baby Malleus Almost Killed Everybody. he's just had Dad Instincts his entire life, I guess.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #okay but seriously #if it's only been 699 years how the heck did lilia lose his birthday #how bad was the record-keeping in briar valley back then #...that said i would believe that briar valley was stubbornly using a different calendar system up until a couple hundred years ago #lilia knows he was born on the seventh day of moonfire in the season of ancient dawn under the second star #what does that translate to in the gregorian calendar? who the hell knows #lilia trying to sign up for magicam: why isn't there a dropdown for my patron constellation

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nexysworld · 9 months

Text

Chapter Summary: You finally make a decision on your relationship. Unfortunately for you it will lead to untold horrors you couldn't have imagined. Pairing: Yandere!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn.

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You continued staring up at the ceiling recovering from the self-induced orgasm. Aftershocks made your legs twitch and tense, you wiggled them about to try and ease the sensation. Finally having the energy to roll over, your view changed from the ceiling to the wall, lined with your stuffed animals.

Childish maybe, but you always had a fond spot for them, never having been able to throw them away. Some were old, made of patchwork with faded colors – a reminder of your childhood. Others were newer, like the overstuffed pumpkin that Derek had won you for Halloween one year, or the small teddy bear Leon had given you, a present from one of his work trips.

Your eyes lingered on the squishy pumpkin, the memory of Derek giving it to you rushed to the forefront of your memory. It had been one of your favorite dates together, spontaneously deciding to stop by the boardwalk after dinner one evening. The scent of popcorn and cotton candy overpowered the smell of the ocean as you walked along the clackity wooden path. Halloween décor was tacked on to everything in sight, even the prizes were ghosts, pumpkins, and black cats.

“You look good like that.” He said, flashing a smile. You tugged on the brim of the cheap witch’s hat, trying to ensure the paper thin material wasn’t going to fly off in the wind. “You calling me a witch?” You gasped in mock offense. “‘Course not baby, I would never.“ He’d doubled over in laughter, spilling the soda on his favorite

band t-shirt. “Oh shit.” He shook the black fabric with one hand trying to get some of the excess liquid off. Slapping his arm playfully, you kissed his cheek. “That’s what you get for being a jerk.” “But I’m your jerk, right?” He raised a brow leaning down to return your affection for a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, you’re my jerk.”

As the two of you made your way down more of the game booths something caught your eye – a huge fat pumpkin with a little spider attached to it. The thing was easily the size of your entire body, and you really wanted it. Coming to a dead stop, you tugged on Derek’s sleeve before pointing at it. “Make it up to me, win me that!” He froze for a second, a nervous laugh exiting his mouth. “I mean I can definitely try…”

The game runner ate it up, goading Derek to play. He explained it was simple, just toss it at an angle, get the ball into the bucket and boom – prize!

The first ball bounced off the plastic basket almost hitting a child in the face. The second ball followed the course of the first one. The third one impressively flew even farther, and Derek had to run to go get it. “Again.” He said determined, though the next round didn’t fare much better. By the fourth round, you weren’t able to contain your laughter anymore, which only served to egg him on. “Come on baby, I was only kidding. I don’t need it.” “I’m going to win it, just you watch.” “If you say so.” You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “I still believe in you, the millionth time’s the charm.”

You weren’t sure how many losses he’d suffered but you knew he’d coughed up nearly $200 and had nothing to show for it. It made your heart soar a little knowing he was willing and determined to get this for you.

Lo and behold the last time was the charm, he’d still missed the first two shots, but the third one landed in the basket and stayed there. The smallest of the three bells rang out indicating a win and the game runner clapped behind the counter. “Congratulations!” He shouted with an exaggerated tone before taking his long hooked stick out to yank a prize down.

It wasn’t the gigantic pumpkin, but it was just perfect in its own right. Medium sized and plump, you squished it to your chest in a hug before capturing Derek’s lips with your own. “It's perfect.”

“Mm, no you’re perfect.” He replied smoothly, wrapping an arm around you from behind as the pair of you made your way further down towards the rides. It had been getting later into the evening, things were dying down a bit. The Ferris wheel was still running and you decided to end the night on the ride together.

The city was beautiful, sparkling likes juxtaposed against the dark buildings and streets, stars twinkling above. You could see your apartment building, and the coffee shop Derek worked at down the way. Unconsciously you snuggled closer to him in your seat, leaning your head against his shoulder. The words had slipped out of his mouth so casually you’d almost missed it, so relaxed into the moment. “What was that?” You asked softly. “I said I love you.” He replied, petting your hair. It caused your heartbeat to speed up as you registered what he’d said. The air hung heavy with the confession.

“I love you too.”

A hollow and guilty feeling erupted in your chest and made its way down to your stomach at the memory. Post nut clarity was a wild thing – and now that your head was clear everything was starting to make sense.

Derek had been right, about everything. What did it say about you that hours ago you’d fought with him about your attachment to Leon, and now here you were getting yourself off to the very guy he was worried about. ‘I’m such an asshole.’

You squeezed the pumpkin close to yourself, taking in the still faded but lingering scent of Derek’s cologne. The urge to cry caused you to curl in on yourself for a moment, but you managed to suppress the tears behind a few sniffles. A soft breath escaped you, and you placed the pumpkin back on the shelf.

Before you rolled back over you glanced next to the pumpkin at the small teddy bear Leon had gifted you. It was black, about the size of your hand. He said he’d brought it back from Spain on his last work trip – something you had been meaning to ask him about more in depth but never got the chance. It was cute, and it meant a lot to you at the time, but now it made your heart ache. ‘Should I get rid of it maybe? It’s not like Leon would know.’

You reached over to grab the small stuffed animal, looking it over, running your fingers against the soft fur. Something caught your eye, a red light in the left eye. It was a faded light, and you could only see it at certain angles. ‘What the –?’ You inspected it more closely, but nothing else was obviously amiss.

‘Maybe the eyes were supposed to light up or something.’ You shrugged, putting the tiny bear back where it belonged, deciding you didn’t have the heart to toss it, hoping Derek just wouldn’t notice its existence.

Guilty and resolved to making things right, you mulled over what you’d say to Leon, to Derek. You didn’t want to abandon your friendship, but if that’s what it would take, you weren’t going to throw your relationship away – and maybe it would be better for your friendship if you weren’t so close.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Nervousness caused you to be jittery, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stood outside his door. ‘You got this. Leon’s a good guy, he’ll understand. He’ll understand.’ You let out a deep sigh, hyping yourself up before knocking on his door.

The second your eyes met the endless blue of his, regret washed over you from head to toe. The way he leaned against the doorframe, you’d caught him after a workout again, shirtless a sheen of sweat coating his muscles. It was the first time you’d seen him completely shirtless and it was making your brain go haywire a bit.

Suddenly a palm was in your face, waving. “Hello, Earth to Ms. 306, you there?”

You were snapped back to the moment. “Sorry, I was spacing out for a moment.” “You don’t say.” He laughed, standing up straight. “Well you’re the one who knocked on my door. What’s up?” “About that. The other night with Derek I uh….” How exactly were you going to explain this? “I think it’s best if maybe you and I saw less of each other.”

Hurt washed over his features. “What? Did I do something wrong?” “No, it’s nothing like that.” “I’m just confused, the guy left you at the theater and –” “I know and that was shitty of him. He just seems to think you and I are too close, and I mean I get it. I can’t say I would be comfortable if he spent as much time with another girl as I do with you.” Averting your eyes, you stared down at your feet. “I’m sorry Leon. It’s just, I do love him and I want to try and work on things ya know? Like you’re a super awesome friend and if it were up to me I’d keep things the way they are but it makes him uncomfortable…so….”

“Of course. I understand completely.”

You swore there was a slightly strained sound to his voice, you didn’t push it though, happy that he was accepting of things. “Thank you Lee.” Like a coward, you scurried off the moment the conversation concluded.

Luckily Derek had been willing to talk things out and once you had mentioned breaking things off with Leon – if you could even call it that – his mood changed entirely. It melted your heart to see the way his face lit up, to feel his arms around you. It affirmed in the moment you had made the right decision.

Things fell back into place like nothing had been wrong – except this time around everything was so much more smooth, a love rekindled. You found yourself talking for hours every night before bed time, laughing at dumb stories, falling asleep before the call ended.

Date nights were becoming a regular occurrence again too, walks in the park, midnight movies.

All in all things were great, but there was something you just couldn’t shake from the back of your mind. Every moment with Derek, every touch, kiss, conversation – it managed to abate your guilt for him, but all you could do was linger on the fact that something was just missing.

Obviously you knew the culprit – Leon.

Somehow, despite everything, you couldn’t shake him from your mind. You missed him terribly and he managed to invade your thoughts at the worst possible moments. Kissing Derek, you’d close your eyes and wonder what it would feel like if Leon had been on the other end.

Walking through the hallway of the battered building felt lonely without the conversations you would have and the laughter that entailed. Helping Mrs. Wilson hurt the most, having to tread to the pharmacy by foot made you miss Leon’s Jeep and the moments spent together. The few times you actually did bump into Leon or catch a glimpse of him, it hurt.

“This is ridiculous.” You said to yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, sitting on your bed. Derek had just dropped you back home after a date, and again the only person on your mind wasn’t the one it should be. “He’s just my neighbor, a friend.”

Letting out a sigh, you thought about the evening with Derek. He’d actually suggested moving in together now that things were getting better between the two of you. Of course you were hesitant at first, this apartment had a lot of sentimental value and leaving it behind meant taking on a new chapter of your life – it was scary. Thinking back on everything though, you were beginning to think it was a good idea.

Everything here was reminding you of someone you can’t – shouldn’t have. Leon had been too meshed within your daily routine, and you figured a change of scenery could help with that. You could still check in with Mrs. Wilson, but not have to be reminded of him every single day.

Resolved to your decision, you texted Derek to let him know. Not knowing why, you had the urge to tell Leon. You didn’t technically have to, and you knew that it wasn’t like you owed him an explanation – it just felt like the right thing to do.

Still too much of a coward to face him or call, you opted to text him instead.

‘Long time no talk. Hope ur well. :) ’

Locking the screen, you set the phone down on the nightstand, surprised when less than a minute later it buzzed with a reply.

‘Just dandy! :) U doin ok?’

‘Yeah!’

‘U sure? not like u to txt out of nowhere.’

‘just had some news i dunno.’

‘news? hope its good lol’

‘i think so… Derek asked me to move in with him.’

The three bubbles to indicate he was typing popped up for a mysteriously long amount of time, making you anxious. Finally they stopped, and you waited – nothing. Thirty minutes passed by before you finally received a response.

‘thats awesome! 👍’

Not sure how to reply, you simply didn’t. The expectation of relief after breaking the news didn’t come, but you pushed it aside. ‘Things are changing. You’ll be just fine once you’re out of here.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you saw Derek was about three days later – the two of you had a camping trip date planned for the weekend. With your duffel bag packed, you took the opportunity to walk to his apartment, wanting to surprise him that morning.

The weather was perfectly temperate and it felt nice to have fresh air and sun on your skin, without freezing to death or sweating bullets. The sounds of the city set you at ease, familiar shops and people passing you by as you made your way.

The only odd thing was Derek hadn’t replied to your text. It was just a simple ‘Good Morning’ but it wasn’t like him to not respond. Thinking he was likely just busy getting ready or slept in late, you shrugged it off. This trip was the start of something new – plans to move upon returning – and you weren’t about to let anything stop you from making it positive. Even any thought of Leon was temporarily pushed to the back of your mind.

His apartment building was a lot nicer, and in a better part of the city. The ivory building came into view and you all but ran from the outside staircase up to the second floor where his home was. Sliding the spare key into the knob, you knew something was wrong immediately – the lights were off and the whole place just felt stale.

“Der?” You called out, flipping the living room light on. “You here?” No response came, you looked out the window to the parking lot and sure enough his car was there – no camping gear on top though.

Making your way further inside the apartment, you looked around for any sign of him. His keys were tossed on the stained coffee table where they always were. His shoes were by the front door. There was no immediate sign of exit or entry.

His bedroom door was closed though, something you knew was unusual – he always left it open even at bed time.

“Der?” You called again, gently cracking the door open. The room was dark, curtains drawn and no artificial light to be found. Your eyes had to adjust for a moment before you saw the lump of human form underneath the bed sheets, comforter having been discarded onto the floor. “Baby?” You gently shook him, turning the nightstand light on to the lowest setting. The sheets were moist and sweat soaked, his brows were knitted together in his unconscious state – like a nightmare. It took a few more forceful movements before he finally stirred, shooting up in the bed. “What the fuck!? Oh…oh my god baby I’m sorry. You scared the shit out of me.” He brought his hand over his heart as he caught his breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I wanted to surprise you but when I came in everything seemed off. Are you alright?” “Yeah, I just wasn’t feeling well. Guess I slept in.” “You’re soaking with sweat, are you sure you’re ok to go? We can just stay in if you’re not well.” “No baby, I’m fine. I promise.” He gave you a weak smile before kissing your cheek. “Just let me take a quick shower and pack up.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I can start carrying the gear down to the car.” He did not look okay at all. His eyes seemed more sunken than usual, skin pale and clammy. Something beyond that just felt off - but he continued to insist everything was fine.

“Maybe just stop by urgent care real quick. I mean if you are sick maybe they could give you something for it that you can take on the trip?” “Baby, we’re halfway to the campsite. All I need is some fresh air and time with my girlfriend. I told you I feel fine.” “Alright…” You had to admit the campsite he picked was beautiful. This flat plane of grassy area set atop a hill, you could see the entire valley below including the river – the mountains and the sky were along the horizon too. It was beyond breathtaking and you could only imagine the view once the sun set and the stars began to twinkle unimpeded by the city lights. The little area was surrounded by a thick layer of trees, giving you plenty of privacy.

Awestruck by it all, the thought of Derek’s condition nearly dissipated entirely from your thoughts – he seemed to be getting better anyway, easily handling stretching out the tarp, and hammering the stakes into the ground for the tent base.

“At least one of us is useful.” You teased, nearly getting tangled in the plastic and wiring of the tent. Attempting to bend one of the thin metal sticks down to loop into another section, it flung back whipping you in the face instead. “Fuck, ouch.” A nice thin slice of blood trickled down the stinging red mark on your face. You covered that side of your face with your sleeve. “Can you grab me the first aid kit?”

There was no response to your request, heavy silence ringing out into the air. “Babe?” Using your good eye you looked over to where he was working on the base, he stood staring at you. “Derek? Hello?” Something about it unsettled you in a way you couldn’t describe, like a 6th sense. “This isn’t funny.” His eyes seemed darker, and his body movement frozen as he gripped the hammer in his hand, tightly. “You’re starting to scare me!”

Snapping out of it, he shook his head before smiling, posture instantly relaxing. “What are you talking about – oh my god are you okay?” He ran over to inspect you and you noted his skin felt weird and cold against your own, not like the usual wet heat you’d experience with a fever. You weren’t sure what to make of it at all, but concern grew within you. “What was that all about?” “What are you talking about?” He replied, dabbing gently at your face with the alcohol pad. A hiss left your lips at the stinging sensation.

“You just stood there staring at me, totally spaced out.” “I don’t remember that at all.” “Derek, are you sure you’re okay? Like really okay?” “Are you going to keep asking me that this entire trip?” “No, I just….” “Look, let’s finish getting set up for the night, I promise you’ll feel better once we’re settled in.” Another quick kiss and he grabbed the part of the tent you’d been fumbling with to finish putting it together. Not wanting to be near him at the moment, you chose to take his advice, stringing up the solar-fairy lights around the trees and moving to get the campfire spot set up.

“All done?” “All done!” He said giving you a high five. “Looks great babe, the lights are really cute. I can't wait to see them tonight.” “Me either.” You replied, kissing him – the cold clammy feeling still there.

There were still a few hours left in the day before sundown, so you opted to explore along the trail for a while. Derek seemed okay initially, his breaks were paced out in a way that made sense. As the day turned to late afternoon though, his breathing seemed to be more labored, breaks became more and more frequent.

You wanted to say something badly, but knowing he’d blow you off you kept it to yourself hoping it was just a cold or something.

By early evening, he was looking rough, red veins in his eyes accentuated by deep purple bags, shivers running through him despite the air having become more humid. His bouts of spacing out became more frequent too – randomly staring off into space nodding as if he was in agreement with some invisible thing.

The worst was when he’d disappeared for 30 minutes on a piss break. You’d found him face first against the tree, urine on his shoes, cock still in hand. Even the sound of your voice didn’t stir him from the spot – nor did shaking his shoulder.

It was another 5 minutes before he snapped out of it this time, smiling at you? “How’s your eye feeling?” Was all he asked as he zipped himself up.

A fear stitched itself together within you and more and more you were working on ways to get out of here – to get him some help because something was not right and it definitely wasn’t a cold. This was beyond your comprehension or ability to assist with.

As night began to shadow the area, the two of you made it back to your campsite. The lights you'd hung glistened against the backdrop of the dark woods giving you enough light to set up the fire. Insisting on it, you tucked Derek beneath a thick blanket on the camping chair and begged him to rest.

You considered calling 911, but the thought of all the lights and sirens worried you that it might spook the clearly ill man or provoke him. What you really needed at the moment was advice because you frankly didn’t know what to do, but you were scared.

“Here, drink this.” You said handing him the thermos of now heated soup. “Just try to rest for a bit.” You kissed his forehead. He was getting worse now, feeling like he had been dipped in an ice bath, you never knew a human could get so cold. You swear his veins were getting darker too, at least the ones around his neck – but it could’ve just been the low lighting. “I have to go to the little girl’s tree, I’ll be back.” You assured him, walking until you hoped you were out of earshot. Your phone was gripped tightly in your hand as you paced trying to figure out the best course of action. ‘Can 911 even make it out here? Do people really call 911 over a sick person?’

“Fuck, I don’t know what to do.” Unlocking your phone, you squinted, eyes adjusting to the overwhelming brightness of the screen in the dark area. “Who would?” You scrolled through your contacts list at least 5 times – only one name ringing in your head. “I mean he works for the government – not that I know what he does exactly … but maybe?”

The phone rang with a crackling sound indicating the poor connection from the wilderness – relief flooded over you as the other end of the line picked up. “Leon, thank god. I know this is wildly inappropriate given everything but I need –” Before you even finished you realized he couldn’t hear you. The staticky noise picking up, his voice echoing in and out sounding robotic. The line disconnected on it’s own and the top corner read ‘no signal.’ “Fuck!” You kicked the trunk of the tree in front of you.

“Babe?” The sound of Derek’s voice brought you back, it sounded so weak and hoarse. “I’ll be right there.” You yelled back. “Babe?” He called again. “Babe I’m scared.”

The words made you shiver, the hair on your neck raised – it sounded like Derek, but not at the same time. You still forced that feeling aside and marched back to camp, legs feeling like sand bags as you made them move against your own will.

“What’s wrong –”

You stopped just behind the tent, he was standing there facing you, the fire illuminating his skin. “Babe, I’m scared.” He repeated again, though his face held no emotion – completely expressionless. Dark black vein made spiderwebs along his skin, running from his arms up onto his face. His irises looked black, red blood vessels in both eyes popped making him look like a demon. The corners of his mouth had blood dried to them.

He coughed into his hand, more blood coming out. “Help me.” He reached a hand out towards you. Instinctively, you stepped back away from him. “Help me.” He repeated again stepping forward directly into the campfire – unphased by the flames that were licking away at his clothing, his skin. For each step he took forward, you took one back, legs shaking as silent tears spilled. A visceral fear like you’d never experience before sent shockwaves throughout your entire body.

He brought two burning hands to his head, the flames catching at his hair while he continued to stumble forward at an uneven pace. “My head. It’s splitting my head.” His voice became warbled as he spoke, like his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth. “You’re scaring me….” You managed to squeak out, barely above a whisper.

“IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!” He shouted this time, head twisting to the side the sound of his neck cracking. His features began to warp, nose pulling to the left, mouth twisting, eyes swirling as the flesh tore and split apart – the sound of wet tearing making you feel ill.

A small worm-like thing poked out of the top of his head, before it darted out, growing and growing in size. A second later his head finally tore an explosion of tentacles waving around in the air, like purple blood worms dancing above the neck of his burning body. His features, the ones you knew so well were twisted amongst the new flesh.

The now sideways mouth opened into a hiss, long tongue slithering out like a snake. Warm urine trickled down your leg against your will, fear paralyzing any movement or rational thought. There was no comprehension of what was in front of you.

Despite the flames melting the flesh of the body, it didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. A tentacle whipped itself forward, slapping against the tree above you, nearly hitting you. The slimy slapping sound was enough to get your legs moving, despite how wobbly they were.

You took off into the dark of the woods, leaves crunching beneath you. Shadows danced around your vision in the moonlight that only casted down between the canopy of the trees. The yellow light behind you mixed with the gargling and fleshy noises told you the creature was behind you in pursuit. Branches and bushes whipped your skin leaving you with cuts and welts you couldn’t feel through the adrenaline – path lost you just went as long as you could.

You saw the opening to the camp parking lot, the low streetlamps like a guiding star. “Help!” You shouted, waving an arm as you ran. “God help me!” You screamed again hoping someone would hear you. In your haze you hadn’t noticed the overgrown root curled out of the ground, it caught your ankle right before you made it to the cement of the parking lot.

Your face hit the yellow barrier of the closest spot, a crunching pop against your nose, iron infecting your sense of smell. When the stars stopped buzzing around your head, you looked down to see your ankle still caught under the root, twisted and purple – bone sticking out through the side.

The hissing sound told you the creature wasn’t far behind, the tips of the tentacles appearing just within your now hazed vision. Coughing on the blood that spilled into the back of your throat via your likely now broken nose, you tried to crawl backwards, but couldn’t the pain in your ankle too great. The creature was right above you now, drool and slime dripping down onto your face as they wriggled around. Closing your eyes to brace a loud explosion sound rung out, all parts of your face and exposed skin suddenly covered in sticky and warm liquid. Cracking an eye open, you saw the body of the creature as it hit the ground.

Looking down at yourself, you were wearing blood and teeth and other viscera that had splattered against you. Your hand shakily reached into your tank top feeling at the squishy thing that landed in your bra.

Bile worked its way out of you upon discovering the eyeball in your hand, tossing it before losing the rest of your stomach contents out onto the open ground. In too much shock and shaking, your vision went black as you slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~

Head reeling you refused to open your eyes, purposefully scrunching them shut against the invading sunlight. You felt like you’d been hit by a bus, every part of you was either sore or stung. As your brain slowly started coming to, the first thing you realized was the smell – out of place but familiar. That spicy and intense cologne – Leon?

‘But why would Leon be in your tent?’ The image of the blonde appeared in your mind making you giggle a moment. Then it occurred to you, you were fully conscious. Confused you opened one eye and then the other, wincing as they adjusted to the light.

It wasn’t your tent. It wasn’t even your apartment. You sat up as quickly as your mangled body would allow, heart rate picking up again. “Hey there, you’re finally awake.” Snapping to the door you saw him there, a look of concern on his face. “Leon?” “In the flesh.” He said softly making his way over to you, sitting on the side of the bed. “Where am I?” “In my apartment. How are you feeling?” “What happened?” “I was hoping you could tell me that. You called me frantic, when I finally found you, you were hurt and completely out of it. Had to pull some connections to make sure the hospital would even let me take you home.” “What? Where’s Derek?” “Who are you talking about sweetheart?” “Derek? My boyfriend, he and I were camping and he had a cold and then he turned into a monster and…and…” “Shhhh.” He soothed, rubbing your back. “Hey, its okay, you’re safe now there’s no monsters. You’re okay, I’m here.” He adjusted himself so he could pull you closer into him encompassing you with his warmth and frame.

The weight of his arms around you and the sound of his voice soothed you frantic mumbling as you sobbed into his chest, wetting the cotton fabric with snot and tears. He paid no mind, not letting up on the affection until it died down into sniffles and hiccups. You clung to him like a koala to a tree, desperate to feel better in some way, so overwhelmed with everything.

Sleep quickly overtook you again, sleeping into dreamless unconsciousness against his form.

As always this is inspired by @explorevenus fic Something Permanent as well as @gigabyte-flare, @girldungeon, and @lipglossanon's work. @elfven-blog was so kind as to help find the banner pics. Love them all, go check out their work.

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