#And we don't even know yet how the other companions' will be like
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gale & karlach
i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.
she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.
not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:
gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb
Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely.
-
Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right?
-
Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?
but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:
act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter
Karlach: Doing all right, Gale?
Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay...
devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it.
Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.
act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb
Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale?
Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely.
Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places.
Karlach: I can only imagine.
i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.
karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:
Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad?
Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms.
Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope.
Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute.
Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in.
Karlach: What's he going to do?
-
Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it.
Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all.
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Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it.
Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain.
Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off.
-
Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds.
Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option.
Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms.
-
Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute.
Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?!
-
Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it.
Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.
i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").
their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:
Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who?
Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first.
devnote: Like it's a well-known saying
Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard!
devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale)
Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.
Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again...
Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us.
devnote: Reassuring
Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it?
Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface.
devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore
Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach.
Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage.
devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image
Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.
Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own.
Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like?
Karlach: Yes! I like!
Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.
Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern
Gale: You can read?!
devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it
Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing.
devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious
Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep.
devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby)
Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.
even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:
before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra
Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.
she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:
karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped
Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.
once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."
she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.
#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#karlach#karlach cliffgate#karlach x gale#gale x karlach#baldur's gate 3#bg3#baldurs gate 3#ch: gale dekarios#ch: karlach#vg: baldur's gate 3#series: baldur's gate#meta: mybg3#i wanted to focus on a dynamic where a friend/partner focuses on gale#bc from what i see very often#that is neglected entirely#and often focuses more or completely on what gale can do for another#anyhow i love them
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Would you still consider it a celebration if Gwynriel’s book is next, bc it at least confirms endgame couples?
I will be very happy for Gwynriels and very relieved that it will help lessen the ship wars though I think I'll still feel disappointed.
I want Elucien to happen but I also adore Elain and Lucien as individuals so an Elucien confirmation isn't the entirety of what I want for them.
Az and Gwyn absolutely deserve a HEA and their own healing arcs but there is something to be said for the fact that right now, they are surrounded by love even without a relationship. Yes, they have their own internal struggles but they have a really strong support system, people that have their backs, that encourage them, that believe in them. Az and Gwyn both have their found families but neither Elain or Lucien do.
Elain and Lucien are regularly pushed to the side in favor of the other characters. I understand why that is, SJM has to stay on course with the narrative that they still need to find the court where they'll thrive, but in the meantime that has resulted in them being misunderstood by the others. It results in others speaking for them, the others not encouraging them or helping them find their powers. Hell, Feyre has known about Lucien's real father since ACOWAR and it's almost two years later yet she's still letting him wander around aimlessly thinking he has no place to go.
A Gwynriel book being next means we're going to have yet another book of Elain floating around the River House with no real purpose. Lucien drifting between Spring and the Human Lands while Tamlin remains depressed which means Lucien will feel the effects of that. Elain again not having the chance to have a POV on how she's feeling about the loss of her father, being made, Graysen's rejection, Az's rejection, how Nesta and Az believe she shouldn't be allowed to do anything dangerous. If a Gwynriel book takes 6-9 months, that means nearly three years will have passed from when Elain will have been forced into the Cauldron, given powers from the Cauldron that she still hasn't fully explored and hasn't been given help on training, a confirmed mating bond that remains unaccepted and unrejected, and we will have never had a single person actually ask her how she feels about any of that outside of Feyre's "you couldn't say a single word to him?"
I will be happy for Gwynriels but how can I personally be super excited when that means my two favorite characters will once again suffer for another 6-9 months without having the same support system in place that Az and Gwyn already do?
Gwyn and Az might not have romance yet but they are respected and loved by their friends and we've witnessed that on page. Meaningful moments, moments where their found family have gotten personal with them and asked them to get personal in response (though Az is kind of terrible in that area, we've seen Cassian and Rhys at least try).
Lucien has "friends" in Vassa and Jurian but we've never actually seen that connection, we're just told it's there so we have to assume it is.
And when he tried to open up to Feyre, she made fun of him.
Elain has "friends" with the wraiths but again, we're just told about it rather than witnessing moments that make us actually feel it. And yes, her sisters love her but they don't try to connect with her (Feyre only thinks of her as a pleasant companion).
And the IC, while friendly enough with Lucien, don't necessarily embrace him with any kind of true respect. There's always this underlying current of "can we trust him?", "what can he do for us?" And of course we know Az has issues with him.
The need to prove that both Elain and Lucien belong somewhere other than where they currently is starting to feel a tiny bit overdone to the point that it's a bit cruel, and while that to me would be a perfect time to end their suffering, I can only imagine what another book of that would look like.
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Yes, YES; This one gets it.
#bg3#halsin#the bear thing is haha and all#but the scene/mood/dialogue is straight outta the pages of a racy romance novel#and for people that love this it's gratifying and touching that it's a scenario that's crafted with much care and seriousness#as opposed to being something to be ashamed of#as if emotions and intimacy don't belong in a narrative experience especially one so personal like idk A ROLEPLAYING GAME#to me THAT'S why this is a big thing for a flagship CRPG to go all in on#optional bear necessities aside#And we don't even know yet how the other companions' will be like#Gale & Astarion's will personally attack me I guess#Fed I am thoroughly fed
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Not to be a jingfu on main, but it's so cute that Jing Yuan thought of Fu Xuan with those jelly beans
#me: the Xianzhou characters are all just coworkers#also me whenever anyone is shown to be fond and have intimate knowledge of some other character: awwww#Like Fu Xuan and Jing Yuan playing starchess and teasing each other or making a reference to things they like#or Jing Yuan talking about young Yukong#Quingque apparently disliking Fu Xuan but obviously that not being the case‚ knowing what she likes and how she thinks#Fu Xuan hiding that she has a sweet tooth but Jing Yuan and Quingque knowing it and teasing her for it#I don't know. There are a lot of instances of these small intimate details in the middle of what looks like a coworker relationship#Good coworkers‚ but coworkers nonetheless#And ironically it moves me so much? Even more so than Belobog. I've been told several times that Belobog seemed more tight. And I agree#In Belobog people were friends or family or companions but linked by something closer than mere coworkers with Wildfire#Even Sampo in the Underworld was strangely 'theirs'. He had the magenta colour of Wildfire and he was trusted to some extent#The Luofu characters don't have that. And yet the fragments of intimacy scattered through their interactions move me a lot#These are people who have known each other for centuries. Jing Yuan knows of Yukong's youth‚ its joy and grief#He knows Fu Xuan has a sweet tooth and teases her about her height. Quingque does too#Fu Xuan chastises both of them for being lazy but she knows they're smart and good at their job. She plays starchess with Jing Yuan#Quingque mocks Fu Xuan for being a workaholic but is very aware of the weight she carries both in her position and ideas about destiny#I won't mention Yanqing and Bailu because there is obviously more than a coworker bound when it comes to them#But yes I love the moments of intimate knowledge scattered through the Xianzhou‚ so telling of the fact that these people have known#each other for longer than several human lifetimes‚ and that perhaps they don't necessarily regard each other as more than their coworker#But perhaps that's enough in order for them to care. Perhaps in a lifetime over one thousand years the intimacy gained with a coworker#through several centuries is something beyond what we could understand in our decades lifespan#But also‚ perhaps‚ I don't know. Also‚ perhaps‚ the do care beyond coworkers in that strange line between work and friendship#Perhaps it's strange for Xianzhou natives to tell apart that kind of relationship after so much intimacy and knowledge through the years#And perhaps‚ once again‚ as it often happens for them‚ they think they'll always have enough time to tell; until they run out of it#They play chess together. Quingque can lose time because Fu Xuan can't stay mad if she brings her sweets. Are they just coworkers?#We play chess. I know what tea and sweets you like best. I brought them today since you would indulge me and play starchess with me#Thanks for playing with me‚ I'm running out of book puzzles. You keep divining my moves but I'll invent a fake story to distract you#Are we coworkers or something more like friends? Where is the line after so many years?#I talk too much but I love this charged nothingness haha I find it ironically so true to how many relationships in real life develop#And I find it so moving‚ that representation of this endearing smallness of everyday life. Of these small things is life made
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“what are you doing?”
you comically cower behind his back even further.
“hiding.”
“...why?”
“because there's a flipping lion in the room with us, JING YUAN. that's what.” you snap back angrily.
if you're wondering how you got into this predicament—it's not that far from being akin to a kidnapper leading on a child with sweets and delicacies.
under the guise of work and a few promised cuddles, he had made you follow his steps into his home—now with you glued to his body like it's your own lifeline. the snow-white lion snugly lies down by the only exit of the room you're both occupying—having just introduced herself when it came to jing yuan for a few pets, scaring the bejeebers out of you when its fur had grazed the back of your thighs all of a sudden.
the lion only shows confusion yet complies when jing yuan coaxed her to go away for a few moments. in other words—for you to take a breather.
in response to your much evident suffering and growing impatience, a mirthful laugh escapes him, craning his head to look at you over his shoulder to throw you a small mischievous grin “it's just my cat. i don't see the problem.”
“that's fully grown lion, you scoundrel!” you hit his back weakly, whisper-yelling as if said lion would attack you if you spoke any louder. “a-ah...it's looking at me weirdly. it's definitely thinking of how delicious i am!”
“mimi is very gentle. i doubt she's thinking of such a thing.”
you sink further in his shadow when the lion catches your wary gaze with a tilt of its head. “jing, please. it may like you, but i doubt that a territorial species would enjoy having a stranger around its person bubble.”
“you're free to leave anytime, darling. i'm not forcing you to stay.” he says coyly.
“with how your adorable little mimi is standing right by the door—i doubt i can leave of my own accord.”
“so you think she's adorable? good to hear that.” oh, now he has selective hearing?
“jing yuan. please.” you kneel down and tug on his robes pleadingly, catching him off guard to the point he has now decided to fully turn towards you in mild surprise. “i really don't know how to deal with this! i don't dislike her or anything, i'm just super scared that she won't like me and would—”
“calm down.” your lover couches down before you, hand raising to pat your head. “she doesn't bite. i promise.”
“how are you so sure?” you question incredulously, ignoring the way your heartbeat quickens at his actions. “even if she's domesticated, she's still an animal that thrives on her own survival instincts.”
“dearest, would i really have taken in a pet if it was openly feral?”
“yep. you would.” you reply in a heartbeat.
his eye twitches in return.“ahem—okay, so as i was saying,” standing up to his full height, he stretches out a hand towards you, staring at you softly as he does so. “we both know i adore delicate and gentle things, [name]. mimi is exactly that—hence why i didn't mind taking her in and burdened you with meeting her.”
you raise a brow. he shrugs, opting to resign upon your obvious reluctance on the matter.
“truthfully, i wished to see my two favourite companions to bond and get along with my own two eyes,” he heaves an apologetic huff, a tad bit disappointed whilst you only stare in surprise, “but if you're really uncomfortable with it then i suppose i shouldn't force you.”
he helps you up with ease when you finally put your hand on his, hastily padding off the dust that was caught in your clothes upon kneeling down.
grasping your hand comfortingly to calm your nerves, you hate that it work flawlessly upon his touch.
“let's go?”
you were about to nod—until your gaze catches the lion's once more.
...pretty eyes.
snowmoon.
your heart clenches at the realisation.
“on second thought...” you trail off, watching as the mammal sits up in anticipation at your eye contact. jing yuan raises a brow at you, “i think i'll try interacting with her.”
he huffs out a deep chuckle, “really, you don't have to—”
“mimi?” you call out, leaning sideways to look past behind your lover's tall figure. he does the same, turning his head over his shoulder to look at the same direction you're fixated on.
the lion perks up, and starts walking towards you. you grin, but not before whispering back to jing yuan,
“if she actually bites me, we're breaking up.”
“no promises.”
you finally pat the lion's head after about an hour of excessive whining it'll bite you, finally havin found the courage to actually see it as a mere domesticated cat whilst glaring daggers at the owner.
“mimi...attack that bad guy.” you point at him, face still looking smug as ever.
“she won't listen to y—” said lion pounces on him.
idek what this is fiakehwjbsksbw i cant write no more man,,,,*/proceeds to make another jingyuan drabble in google doc
#jing yuan x reader#jingyuan x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#star rail x reader#honkai star rail#jing yuan#har❗fiction
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— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.
▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.
▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.
most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.
reader / tav is always gender neutral!
▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.
ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel
no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.
❈ ASTARION ;
Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.
Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.
And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.
You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.
Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.
In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.
You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.
Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.
"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.
"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"
Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.
Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.
Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.
"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."
"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."
"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."
He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.
"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."
❈ WYLL ;
it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.
For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.
You liked getting under his skin, after all.
You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills
Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.
It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.
He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.
Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.
Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.
It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.
And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.
Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.
"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."
He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.
"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."
You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."
You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."
It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.
"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.
"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."
You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.
"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"
"Sorry to disappoint."
He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.
Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.
❈ GALE ;
Gale is always the poet, never the muse.
He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.
But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.
When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.
He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.
When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.
It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.
But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.
Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.
Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.
It has a special effect on Gale.
In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.
"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"
"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."
The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.
He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"
"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.
He's glad he's alive. To feel you.
"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."
He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.
❈ SHADOWHEART ;
You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.
You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.
Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.
Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.
Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.
Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.
She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.
She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.
You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.
Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.
She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.
You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.
She loves you more than she cares to admit.
"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"
Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.
"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"
She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.
"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"
"I think it more often that I say it,"
"And you always think to call me that?"
"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"
Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.
"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."
Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.
"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."
You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"
❈ KARLACH ;
Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.
She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.
Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.
Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.
Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.
And you always explain them to her afterwards.
You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.
The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.
With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.
You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.
She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.
"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."
"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."
Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.
"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"
"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"
The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.
"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."
"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"
Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.
With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.
It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.
"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.
You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"
❈ LAE'ZEL ;
The Githyanki do not fall in love.
It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.
For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.
You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.
Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.
That you'd wait for her.
Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.
Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.
But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.
"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"
You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.
A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.
"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."
"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."
"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."
"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."
"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."
She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest
"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"
You return her smile in kind.
"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."
"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."
The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.
▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.
this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!
anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !
#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3 x reader#astarion x reader#wyll x reader#gale x reader#shadowheart x reader#karlach x reader#lae'zel x reader#writing tag#waah. i love them all
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y'all sleeping on Astarion/Lae'zel bc this moment is so...the way the flippant demeanor drops and he doesn't hesitate to call her out for sticking with her version of Cazador like their relationship is so underrated fr...
sitting down writing this bullshit like let me peel it like an onion a bit and elaborate why this pairing is fascinating to me
It's really interesting how during the most cathartic, life-altering moment in Astarion's questline, the reactions of the other companions are more about the moral wrongness/guilt of sacrificing innocent lives. Lae'zel doesn't do that and instead relates to his hurt.
She knows what's he's feeling, the lack of control, the unfairness of being powerless for too long. This is a woman who just found out her entire life purpose was built on lies, discarded and hunted by her own people after outliving her usefulness, and groomed to basically die for an insane power-hungry lich queen. She knows all too well that power isn't always real freedom. Her first instinct is to empathize with Astarion to steer him away from his hate and resentment.
Astarion/Lae'zel is so interesting to me because they're such a classic "can we make each other worse or make a better person out of the other?".
They both have genuine appreciation for violence and respect each other's ruthlessness. Astarion was used as a weapon of seduction while Lae'zel was of warfare. Sex with people is meaningless and not real intimacy for them, and while both have little understanding/experience of interpersonal relationships beyond the physical, they still feel and love very deeply. They have no frame of reference for things like friendship and warmth, but they badly want all of that and more, even if they don't know it yet.
In-game they can sleep with each other, which is basically the foundation of the normal Tav/Astarion romance. Lae'zel saw him during combat and got horny, who knows. Astarion who's used to luring people with his charms, takes up Lae'zel's blunt offer because she's a strong hardened warrior that can provide protection and be a worthy ally, and he doesn't know how to say no. Navigating the complications between one who wants to be seen beyond as a sex object, and one who comes from a totally alien culture with no concept of love/family/connections and only sex is honestly really compelling to me. It's a transactional, mutually beneficial thing with no emotional expectations. Once you get past the skeevy rockiness of their early relationship, I really like the idea of them slowly seeing something past the exterior and realizing they may have harshly misjudged the other, an unspoken friendship blooms, and in comes the realization that they are essentially loners longing for kindness and a comforting touch in the most desperate of situations.
Lae'zel is prideful, direct, has no sense of courtship talk, and doesn't hold back her thoughts the slightest--she's not sweet/agreeable and what you see is really what you get, which I imagine would be disarming for Astarion who's used to vacuous flattery and has difficulty trusting others. But she's also insanely protective, passionate, loyal, and an initiator-- every romance scene is triggered by her first and she's always showing effort towards her relationships, which would mesh well with Astarion who does need someone to nudge him.
She doesn't purposely suppress her feelings, she's just simply at loss at how to express them sometimes due to her wildly different upbringing. She stops the sparring match you agree to and an easy vulnerability slips instantly out of her: "I don't want to hurt you. I want to protect you, and for you to protect me." and "Thus far I've taunted you, devoured you, battled you. Now I want more than anything to soothe you." are romantic as fuck and Astarion of all people really needs to hear that tbh.
Astarion is also someone who struggles with reinforcing his boundaries, and a key theme in Lae'zel's romance is that she encourages and wants you to challenge her and learn to stand your ground. It's not gentlest method, but hey, relationships are about having to make an effort to learn each other's language.
I think he also would take pleasure "educating her on the matters of Fay-run" (I believe there's a whole banter with him teasing her and teaching her pet names) and would get a kick out of coaxing Lae'zel out of her shell with her shyness at showing public affection, and making her blush. Also it simply would be fucking funny to see Astarion who's used to easy seduction, trying to pass a persuasion check just to get a smooch and generally having to work to earn regular kisses from Lae'zel lmfaooo
Lae'zel also initially struggles to see her chains as chains. When she learns about Vlaakith's betrayal, she copes instantly through denial and shuts it down. Astarion is NOT having it and calls her out, he knows her well enough to recognize that she would value blunt honesty above all.
I imagine he also despises her lack of self-preservation, the way her entire identity is tied to duty and being in service of others, and doesn't understand her desire to still help/liberate the people that want her dead and are hunting her down. He wants to make this duty-bound soldier realize that looking out for herself, and putting herself first may not be the worst thing in the world.
They're so similar to each other but are also polar opposites in some ways that make a more equal, balanced romance I think. It's not a simple, one-sided, feel-good "she/he can fix her/him" fantasy because both of them have to earn each other's love, actually cut through the other's flaws, and actively motivate each other to be better versions of themselves.
They're not at all the other's ideal guiding hand. It's rough, jagged, and imperfect, but that's how healing goes. It's so far from being the healthiest relationship -- but even if their belief systems differ, their moral compass does often align. I imagine it's a slight relief for them to have a partner where there would be less shame and judgment when they expectedly, occasionally slip up and fall into their bad habits.
Also, man, the "You showed me the betweens and beyonds. Beyond war and peace, beyond passion and obsession, most importantly, you showed me freedom.", "First you were my wound, now you were my cure.", "But you saw something else in me - someone else I could be. Someone who could break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago.." lines really hit hard when applied to them.
Of course, they can also make each other worse, feed into the other's negative traits that will bring out the worst part of themselves. It's this duality of their pairing that is very interesting to explore, the way it can steer in either direction because it's an intense, fraught relationship at its core.
#when he gets called by omeluum “child of the dark” and her “child of the stars” like yeah..the squid man is being literal but he Gets It fr.#lae'zel#astarion#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 meta#astarion ancunin#astarion x lae'zel#lae'zel x astarion#the rarest of rarepairs they dont even got a ship name...this is so tragique we need to discuss the pathos and potential of this pairing#bg3 lae'zel#bg3 astarion#also im a sucker for stoic knight/court darling trope and whatever variations of it yeah#bloodbruise
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some undifferentiated thoughts about my Starfield playthrough as i have them. i am a game developer with a strong interest in procedural generation and i've enjoyed a bunch of other bethesda games so this might get pretty mean sorry
(this is a long one)
starfield dialogue is already exhausting me "oh you must've been living under a moon rock ;)" get it! because they're in space! this would've been too corny for the Jetsons
there's a kind of cheap dusting of space theme over everything. the food isn't salmon but alien salmon. it's not seaweed but alien seaweed. cooking alien stir-fry. come on
cannot get over how clumsily the theming is handled. books, board games, weapon names revolve heavily around space. these people have been living on alien planets for hundreds of years yet have this unending sense of novelty about it. the game takes itself completely seriously but feels like it's attempting to parody itself
people's EYEBALLS are CLIPPING THROUGH THEIR EYELIDS
a woman is speaking to me in french. her accent is about as believable as her haircut
these are some of the worst reflection maps i've ever seen
next to nothing is interactive. you can sit in chairs and sleep in beds and that is about it. can't even drink from people's toilets. disgraceful
game helpfully crashes 5 seconds after i decide i should get some sleep. very handy!
my character has not said a single thing since i started playing. not one peep. this is an unmitigated improvement over Fallout 4 i'm so glad honestly
the more i poke around the big city the more the NPC quips feel like something out of gen-1 pokemon. can't get enough of this coffee :) this city is where it's at :) spacesuits are comfy and easy to wear
very strange sense of altered reality from the quest dialogue too. has anyone at bethesda met a person before? i move on to some mission that has me scanning wildlife on a faraway planet hoping this will, somehow, feel less alien than human conversation
just as with No Man's Sky, every planet is uniformly dotted with equidistantly-placed points of interest that you slowly make your way to (no vehicles besides your jetpack) which always turn out to be some cave or building identical to those you've cleared before
unlike with No Man's Sky, the seamless exploration is faked and the biodiversity is nil. you do get an impressive amount of raw loading screens however
the prefab bases and power stations found everywhere on planets seem to have very sparse, very specific slots for spawning consumables, which results in encountering some giant industrial installation in the middle of nowhere with, i don't know, a loaf of whole-grain sandwich bread just casually sitting next to it all proper. there is no breathable atmosphere here. who is eating this
planetary traversal is a CHORE. i am saying this as someone who loved Death Stranding
heinous "hold to confirm" buttons sprinkled in various flow-breaking places throughout the interface
enemy AI is abominable. nobody is pathing their way to get my ass. "must've been the wind" taken to the next level. an infant playing peekaboo has more object permanence
hoisting yourself up on ledges when jumping is…nice
companions randomly nowhere to be found. persists through multiple fast-travels and loading screens until, just as randomly, they pop back up
storage space is now limited! unlike in Fallout 4 and virtually every other bethesda game, your containers now hold a finite item capacity. god forbid we let the player have fun
baffling inventory UI. i imagine there's a mod out there that completely overhauls it the way SkyUI did for Skyrim. this should not be needed! how are your UIs getting worse a decade later!
scanning the precious few species inhabiting some dusty planet; one of them is this arching red root i've already seen several times before. my job done in this biome, i travel (read: teleport with a loading screen) to the polar region to find some other species. the first one i catalogue is the exact same red root again but this time it's named "boreas root" todd howard is a genius
some alien horror comes at me full fangs out. i hop on a pebble. obscenely, i am safe
procedural terrain generation beyond dull, impossibly unimaginative. these people have not had one critical thought on what makes a procedural world interesting. beginning to feel validated in my belief that only i should be trusted with proc gen. along with perhaps tarn adams
jokes aside this is making me feel genuinely insane. there have been excellent procedural generation techniques that produce compelling explorable maps for decades now. bethesda absolutely has the budget and know-how to do miles better than this yet somehow they just…do not? the same way Pokemon has decided to just no longer bother with their mainline games despite being the highest-grossing media franchise in history? hello? what is for real going on
some of the most cynical breadcrumbing i've seen in years. approaching some random cave and this person in space gear, who in the vast immensity of the infinite cosmos just happens to be snapping pictures right here, tells me more-or-less verbatim "if you like this place, you should see this other place" [other random cave has been added to your map.]
i do not like how good this makes No Man's Sky's gameplay look. it depresses me how much i have to hand it to No Man's Sky for at least not fucking up this bad. please stop making me wish i was playing No Man's Sky instead this is grotesque
i think i've exhausted my interest and patience for this game at the moment. i'll get back to the main story at some point and try some other systems ie. crafting and base-building to see if there's any engagement to be found but so far, my god. my god
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Hii I was wondering if u could do a yandere Kazuya x yn x yandere Daitou I’m not sure if u do character x yn x character tho
Yandere! Yakuza x Reader Spinoff
Two yakuza men who have fallen in love with their new foreign tenant. A what-if spinoff to the original story for that love triangle spice. Happy Valentine's Day!
Content: female reader, NSFW, organized crime, obsessive behavior, violence, BDSM themes (choking), threats
Credits: My boyfriend for giving me the Daitou smut idea
[Main Story] [General Headcanons]
Kazuya is sitting on the sidewalk, checking his watch occasionally and tapping his foot. The cigarette seems to have been forgotten, hanging lowly from his lips.
"Sorry I'm late." Daitou speedily makes his way towards his friend, smiling awkwardly.
"Where the fuck were you, man? We don't know how much time we have before the cops arrive."
"Uh uh, leave it to me." The cheeky grin doesn't leave his face as he pulls out his gun and carefully but swiftly inspects the barrel and safety one final time. "(Y/N) needed some help with the mailbox. I couldn't just say no, ya know?"
The blonde man's eyebrows raise for a second, but he quickly recollects himself.
"I see. That's good."
"She asked me to show her the area tomorrow, so I'll be working extra hard tonight. Hehe."
"That's good."
Daitou glances at Kazuya, somewhat wary.
"You okay?"
Stupid question. What's he supposed to answer? Yeah, he loves waiting like a dumbass while his friend flirts with the new tenant, who conveniently happens to be a cute foreigner, who's been unexpectedly nice and relaxed around them despite them explicitly stating they're part of the Japanese mafia. Fucking hell. It doesn't help that this idiot is as obvious as a blaring, blinding cluster of ads smack in the middle of Kabukicho. He can tell from miles away that Daitou's completely fallen for her. Just like that, in an instant.
They've been partners and best friends for years now, so the natural reaction would be happiness, right? Daitou has always been one scary motherfucker. Even the seniors scramble when he's in the room, let alone women. For him to find someone that isn't bothered the slightest by his appearance or background should be a celebratory occasion. Kazuya should be rooting for him. Except, well, he fell for you just as hard. Tough luck.
The Bushido moral code, often used as guidance within their own lifestyle, covers matters such as loyalty and honesty quite extensively. A true warrior remains fiercely faithful to his master or companions. And yet, love interests are more of a grey area, especially if they happen to overlap. Who dictates the proper etiquette for this dilemma? To whom is loyalty directed towards? Truth be told, Kazuya couldn’t care less. He’s always been a man of vice, impulsive and greedy. If he wants something, he takes it.
The trouble starts when the other person is of the same mindset. Two ferocious predators eyeing the same victim.
***
You fiddle next to the tall, dark-haired man. Similarly, Daitou is avoiding eye contact, looking around in hopes of finding something to focus on. It’s the first time he’s come over since the incident. After his little mission with Kazuya, he was tasked to “interrogate” some of the remaining members to get even more names for the hitlist. He’d completely forgotten about his promise to show you the neighborhood. Hands sticky with blood, he was in the middle of his signature act of benevolence, putting the lad out of his misery.
It was around that time you decided to be the one picking him up instead, for your grand tour. Your knocks on the door remained unheard, however, so you decided to politely make your way in.
“Sorry, I hope I’m not-”
You froze in place. A man (you assumed at least based on the few visible traits left), tied up on the chair, canvas bag roped around his head. Daitou’s hands were secured around his throat. In the few seconds of silence, you could hear a muffled wheezing, as the stranger’s chest heaved in short convulsions.
“-intruding.” You mumbled, regaining your speech.
He messed up, didn’t he? Daitou sighs and slicks his hair back. He can’t blame you if you’re now terrified of him. He had to come over for some tenant checkups and you’ve been maintaining a safe distance from him during his entire visit. What can he possibly tell you? “Hey, I know I threatened to chop you up and you’ve now witnessed firsthand I’m a legit murderer, but, uh…I have a crush on you? Dinner at seven?”
You’re terrified alright, but not of his deeds. Rather, your newly discovered perversion as a consequence of the gory scene. It’s not that you relished in the torment of another. It’s the other details that left you reminiscing. Daitou’s imposing frame, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his traditional tattoos glistening in beads of sweat, his flexed, brawny arms, and large hands. You’re scared of your shamelessness. It can’t be normal. Yet you can’t stop thinking about it. Just a glimpse into this memory and your cheeks become burning red.
“I’ll be on my way then”, the yakuza announces politely.
Though he immediately stops in his tracks, and you realize you’ve unconsciously grabbed onto his sleeve. Uh oh. What now? You mumble an apology without releasing your hold. Being this close to him makes your heart drum inside your chest.
To hell with it.
“I might say something terribly inappropriate right now, but…”
“Sorry?” He stares at you, dumbfounded.
“Do you have anything planned after this?” You ask quietly.
“N-no?”
“Would you mind staying over?”
“Huh? Sure…w-what for?” His mouth is dry, and he searches your eyes in confusion.
“You know…” Choke me until I pass out and such, you think to yourself sarcastically.
He turns to face you, lips pursed awkwardly.
“You’ll have to be clear with me, Miss (Y/N). I’m not good with all this tiptoeing around and I might get the wrong idea.”
Your ears perk up hearing his final words, a deep blush now spreading over your flustered features.
“What wrong idea?”
Daitou fidgets with his glass prosthetic nervously.
“Well, uh, a man can only dream, ya know? Especially around a cute girl like you.” He reveals with a stutter.
“Suppose I’d be willing to go along with anything on your mind. What then?” You twirl your hair, gazing shyly at the floor. Not even you can believe the audacity leaving your lips.
The tall man steps before you, towering above with a certain gleam in his eye. It’s yearning. Your knees weaken.
“Don’t tease me, please. I can hardly control myself around you as it is.”
You release his sleeve and instead cling onto his shirt with both hands, looking up through your lashes.
“I’m dead serious.”
He ponders his next move with a click of the tongue, then cups your cheeks between his hands and lowers himself until his hot breath tickles your nose.
“Are you? There’s no going back after this. Can you handle it?” His voice is suddenly deeper, raspier.
Before you can respond, you feel yourself lifted and you yelp, surprised, instinctively wrapping your limbs around the yakuza. In between the greedy kisses that leave your lips bruised and swollen, you don’t notice the movement back towards the seating area.
As you pull away to gasp for air, he throws you onto the couch, flipping you over in the process so that you’re kneeling away from him. Your nails dig into the soft fabric of the sofa. You hear Daitou unbuckle his belt and you squeeze your legs together, heavily aroused. He presses his palm gently into your back, arching it. You sense his fingers grazing over your core and you whimper.
“G-go on, please.” You beg, swaying your hips tentatively. “I really can’t wait anymore.”
“As you wish, Miss.” He reassures you with a grin.
He adjusts himself and carefully makes his way in. You don’t have time to enjoy the feeling; following almost instantly is his belt looped around your neck, tightening under his grip as he pulls the ends towards him. Your head is forced back, and you groan. You can hear the leather stretch and creak over your assaulted skin, the constriction briefly cutting your oxygen intake. Hot drool trickles down your chin and your eyes almost roll back in pleasure.
“Look at my little Miss (Y/N), taking it like a champion.” He bends over and bites your earlobe playfully. “Does that mean I can be as rough as I want?”
You nod erratically.
The grip around your throat intensifies and your vision becomes blurry.
“Hey, don’t pass out now.” He inserts two fingers in your mouth, pulling you by the cheek and tilting your head to look him in the eye. “Not before you show me that you understand your situation. You’re mine. Is that clear?”
He drags his fingers downwards, aiding your response as you struggle to contract your muscles.
“Attagirl.” He concludes, satisfied.
In the morning you wake up with a dreadful soreness, and you can quickly see why. Your body is peppered in bruises. Daitou is smoking by the window and promptly flicks his cigarette out once he realizes you’re no longer asleep.
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He begins, remorseful, and squats in front of the bed. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“I will need a day or two to recover before the next time, but otherwise I’m fine.”
He beams with delight upon registering your words: next time. You can’t help but snicker at his childish enthusiasm. It’s a mystery how Daitou can switch between ruthless killer and cute partner with such ease.
Although it’s no secret, really. It’s you.
***
“Thanks for driving me home, Kazuya.”
You smile and unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle. Daitou has been busy with work for the past days, so Kazuya took his place in looking after your needs.
“Huh?” You rattle the grab handle one more time to make sure. “It’s still locked.”
The blonde raps the wheel impatiently with his fingers. Is he to silently accept his loss? Does it even count as a loss when he hasn’t even had the chance to present his piece? Daitou has been quiet about it, but he can read that bastard like an open book. Something definitely happened between the two of you and the mere thought drives him insane.
Ah, this is so unlike him. There are few things he cares about. His pride, his Family’s honor, his freedom. Women aren’t exactly on that list, yet somehow, you’ve snuck your way to the very top of priorities and he’s realizing it just now. It’s becoming harder to ignore his maddening urge to have you. Out of all the things…He’d give Daitou the world. But not you. He can’t. He can’t.
“Kazuya? Are you listening? You forgot to unlock the door.”
“Say, (Y/N) …ever fucked in a car before?”
“What?” You ask, baffled.
“Come here for a moment.” He swiftly slides his seat all the way back and pats his thigh.
“Are you out of your mind?”
He answers your inquiry by pulling out his handgun and lazily pointing it towards you.
“I’m only going to ask once.”
You clumsily climb over the center console, straddling the yakuza with a slight pout.
“Someone’s in a sour mood, that’s for sure”, you complain. “It’s not even loaded.”
“Even I’m not crazy enough to risk shooting my Princess.” He smiles apologetically, throwing the gun on the backseat. “I thought it’d be more threatening that way.”
He removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you intently. His hand lingers for a second, before sliding its way down, tracing the side of your body. You shiver.
“Can you truly blame me when there’s such a pretty girl right before my eyes?” The blonde exhales and focuses on your shirt instead. “Won’t you let me prove myself?”
From this distance, despite the dim lights, you can discern his features in agonizing detail. His long lashes, his fleshy lips, currently parted, the luscious locks of hair casually thrown back. Kazuya has always been effortlessly handsome. It’s not just his good looks, but his overflowing charisma. He always knows exactly what to say and do. A devilish power to have over people, and you’re presently his victim.
His slender fingers play with your first button and cheekily undo it. You can only observe it, entranced. Your legs are weak, and your arms are stuck in place, resting limply over his broad shoulders.
“May I?” He glances up at you with a pleading expression. “I won’t be able to hold back afterwards.”
You bite your lower lip, distracted. Whether or not this is a wise choice, you can’t currently tell. You squirm in his lap and suddenly feel the pressure coming from below.
“Go ahead.” You finally confess.
He doesn’t hesitate and slithers his hand underneath your shirt, popping the rest of the buttons open. Like a hungry animal that has stumbled upon a feast, he sinks his teeth into your neck, leaving mean, wet kisses on his way down.
One hand is greedily kneading your curves, encouraged by your soft whimpers, while the other strokes your thigh in anticipation. With a bit of readjustment, he finds the right spot between your trembling legs. You jolt at the sensation of his cold fingers.
“My, you’re already dripping. How lewd.” He whispers between breaths. “Do you want it now?”
He nonchalantly slips out and undoes his own pants. You lift yourself expectantly and let a moan escape your lips upon feeling the erection throbbing right below.
“Well then, can’t forget our manners, can we?” He announces, visibly excited. “What should I do?”
You glare at him, feverish.
“Stop teasing me.”
“Come on, be a good girl. Tell me what to do and I will do it, Love.”
Why, this…You lower yourself to his ear and answer in a lulled whine.
“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to fuck me.”
Words enough to send the blonde man over the edge. He abruptly clutches your thighs for support, easing himself in before continuing with increasingly aggressive thrusts. Husky whimpers roll out of his mouth, desperate and starved.
“Oh, I’ve waited so long for this. My darling, perfect little (Y/N).” He presses his forehead into your chest, indulging in the moment. “Now say that you’re mine. Please. Please say it.”
“I’m…ah…I’m all yours, Kazuya.” You manage to blurt out, growing dizzy.
“That’s my girl. Such a good girl.”
Once the deed is finished, you flop your head over his chest, trying to catch your breath. Kazuya smoothens your clothes meticulously, holding you with one arm for support. Can’t leave a lady all disheveled, after all.
“Won’t Daitou be upset?” You point out, somewhat anxiously.
His muscles are tense for a second and he furrows his brows.
“That’s one strange way to thank me for making you come at least twice. Mentioning another man’s name.”
“I’m just…” your words trail off.
“What? Worried? You think I can’t handle it or something?”
Far from the truth. Both Kazuya and Daitou are violent, dangerous men. Given their stubbornness, you’re rather certain they’d end up killing each other. Not your favorite outcome.
“I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”
He sighs loudly.
“I’ll tell you what. Under normal circumstances, I’d probably dismember whoever had the guts to even entertain the idea of meddling with you. But…just because it’s Daitou, I might be willing to share. Nothing more than that.”
Kazuya ruffles your hair and chuckles.
“Aren’t you glad I’m such a diplomat, Love?”
“More like batshit crazy, both of you.” You retort, stretching.
#yandere yakuza#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#male yandere x reader#yakuza x reader#mafia x reader#yandere mafia#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere smut#yandere fic#male yandere#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc#oc x reader#yandere original character#original work#smut
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bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part nineteen
—other parts
pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader
words: 3k
tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers.
summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.
The cool paste feels tingly on your skin as you rub it against your bruised stomach, wincing. Christ. Maybe Ghost was right to think he might break you. Beneath the mottled patchwork, another kind of pain stirs— your muscles are growing. Firm and tight. The only soft parts of you left are your breasts and your ass. Gently applying the paste to a nasty purple one on your left cheek, you curiously pinch the sore flesh between your fingers. Scratch that. Even your ass is firming up.
Arnica has healing properties. Yesterday, you found a patch of it with Blue and created a salve with some water. You already applied some last night before bed. Whether or not it’s helping probably doesn't mean much when new ones are about to be added; still, the placebo effect brings some comfort.
You're still massaging your backside when the bathroom door groans beneath a heavy fist.
"Hurry up. Grab your bow."
“Shit.” You startle, almost dropping the salve. "Uh, coming.”
Chucking on a clean shirt and your old pair of jeans, you pad out of the bathroom, ignoring the cry of your joints. Ghost is outside waiting for you. Wait— bow? Confusion delivers an uptick to your pulse; you never bring your bow to train.
“What’s going on?”
"The air," he replies in a flat tone.
The stale smell offers enough explanation. You cringe. "Should we split up?"
He shakes his head and nods towards the direction the gentle breeze is rolling in. "No need. It's coming from this way."
In the violet wash of morning, you trail beside him over tall grasses and scattered groundhog burrows as the air leads the way, luring you opposite the clearing where you train. There haven't been any Greys since the one you burned together. For the past few weeks, you'd almost forgotten about their existence— a pleasant naivety for once.
Neither of you bothers with much small talk. He asks if you're sore, probably noticing how stiff you are, and you answer honestly. That's it.
You keep your attention strictly on the wood bow molded into your palm and the slight rustling of leaves all around you, scanning for signs of anything astray. You don't look at Ghost, even when you feel his eyes flicker to the side of your head. Staring at him for even a second longer than necessary rouses something in your gut that was once easy to label as fear; now you don't know what to call it.
He is wearing thicker clothes today, the intimidating vest stocked with ammo glued to his chest. You'd gotten used to his more casual wardrobe of gym shorts and hoodies. They make him look... softer, almost. A little less like a death omen. Though, you sincerely doubt there are any soft parts of Ghost left under all that gear, given the rigid planes you felt beneath your hands when you—
"There."
You snap your gaze in the direction Ghost is pointing at.
At first, you don't see anything.
Then, squinting, you make out a red color far too metallic to naturally sprout among the conifers.
An arrow is urgently slotted on the bowstring as the two of you head towards it, your brows tightly knitted. You've been this way a few times and never saw a— is that a red car?— before. Closing in, your suspicions are confirmed when a stroke of sunlight bounces off the metal bumper. The patchy sedan is tucked within a bush, tail-end sticking out, with half-flat tires resting on corroded rims. Shadows of movement dance behind the tinted windows, too disjointed to be natural.
"What the fuck?" you mutter under your breath, boots scuffing over a long-faded gravel pathway that is now shrouded in weeds. The car must've been following it before winding up in the bush— the occupants no longer human enough to drive.
"They... they must have just turned while they were driving," you think aloud. "When did this even get here?"
"Maybe during the night," Ghost mutters.
He paces forward and swings open the passenger door. A string of moans is released as a Grey lurches within the confinements of the seatbelt, but he quickly silences it with a bullet to the forehead, causing it to flop sideways out of the car. Maybe just a day ago, it was a young man. His hair is fully intact and he's wearing a blue shirt with the Chelsea Football Club logo on the back.
"I wonder why they were driving this way to begin with," you say quietly, stomach rolling.
In the driver's seat is the slumped-over corpse of an older man, having died from so many bite wounds before the infection could take hold. The early stages of decomposition smell almost worse than the infection and you have to breathe through your mouth as you head for the back door.
"There's another here I think."
You're ready to shoot and put whoever it once was out of their misery when you pry open the door, but the sight of a small body wriggling around makes you freeze. Curled up against the faded leather is an infected boy, no older than eight or nine. His eyes are all white except for the outer rim where a few vessels are still filled with red blood. Your fingertips dig fiercely into the frame of the door as you stare down at him; his soft brown hair, his small hands, his Minecraft shirt. He whimpers and tries to claw at you, mouth hung open in mindless hunger.
The feeling that washes over you is hot and cold at the same time. It's not the first or last time you've seen an infected child, so you don't know why the sight traps you for a few heartbeats.
A voice emerges beside you. "It's not a kid anymore."
You almost forgot Ghost was there. Your teeth clench. "Yeah, I know."
You feel his eyes burning into you. Your fingers tighten and untighten around the arrow's stem as you aim.
"Hone it, Twix— the anger."
The tension in your jaw releases at the same time as your arrow snaps forward, cutting through the boy's skull and driving his limp body down to the car floor.
“You good?”
You forcefully swallow and look away, giving Ghost a short nod. "Guess that's all of them."
He slowly nods in agreement, studying you, but all he says is, "For now."
“Don’t you think it’s strange?”
“Seen stranger things over the years,” he says. “It seems like they were headed somewhere, maybe needed a new place to settle, and one of them got bit. Infected the others.”
You nod, thinking it over. “What about the car?"
"No fuel left, so it's pretty useless." Rifle still in his grip, he moves around to the hood and props it open. "Might have some parts I can use, though."
While he scavenges for gears that aren't rusted beyond functionality, you take a look at their belongings. There is an empty bottle of whiskey in the cupholder. In the boy's lap is a stuffed tiger that you assume was once white, but now it's a worn of grey. You carefully shift his corpse and take it.
"I have a friend who might be able to care of this for you."
In the trunk, at least, you find some tripwire.
Dragging the two adult bodies back to the trench for burning is your 'strength' training for the day. Since they haven't decomposed much yet, they're heavy; you go back and forth, taking one at a time. Ghost carries the small one over his shoulder. After the flames snuff out the smell of rot, he relieves you, claiming he has other shit to take care of—more traps to set with the newfound tripwire.
"Hey. Would you like this?" you ask Blue when she's up, handing her the tiger.
"I'm kinda too old for dolls, Twix." She must see the expression on your face because she shakes her head and disappears into her room for a minute before coming out with a teddy bear. "My mom gave me this one when I was a baby and it just sits on my bed by itself, but now it can have a friend."
You smile and nod. "Yeah, okay."
The day is spent playing board games with her. When she notices how sore you are, she offers an exclusive massage from Grim, who hops over your back and legs as you relax face-down on the couch. However, even with the honorary treatment, the aching lingers.
"Auntie, I'm over here!"
In a violet-tinted field, you search for the voice.
It's barren and hazy, with no hard edges or places for a little boy to hide; so why is it so hard to find him? You call his name. You wander around, aimless, until you catch a familiar whiff of baked cinnamon and fresh laundry. This way. He's this way. You start running fervently. When a small hand tugs at yours, you whip around and try to grab him, but the soft touch dissolves through your fingers like ash.
When you wake up, there's a hand on your back and blood on your tongue, evidence that you'd bitten through it during your sleep. The taste is quickly replaced with bile as you launch up, grabbing the sleeve of someone's shirt.
"Oh no, you don't."
The hand moves to your hair, wrapping it around in a fistful before forcing your head to tilt down. A bucket is tucked beneath your chin. You vomit into it, the cool metal rim hissing against your fingertips. Again and again. When it's all out, your throat feels like sandpaper.
"Done?"
The dark room surrounds you; the perfect place to hide what you know must be a ghastly look on your face. Awareness creeps in, and you're not thrilled by the fact that you've thrown up in front of him twice now. Without looking up at the white skull you know is there, you nod.
Wordlessly, he takes out a cigarette and lighter. You hear a deep inhale. See the dull glow of the flame. Then, he passes it to you and leaves.
"You look like shit today."
You can't even be offended, fully aware of the purple painted beneath your eyes. One look at you quirks his brow up in that annoying mannerism of his.
You offer a tight-lipped simper, mumbling. "At least I can always count on you for brutal honesty."
"Good trait to look for in an ally." He throws the gauze at you and you begin wrapping up. "I don't suppose it has anything to do with the fact you nearly ruined another shirt of mine last night."
You tie off the gauze and glance up. "Look, I'm s—" you stop yourself, "I mean, I'm not sorry, because you wanted my box open so now it's open. You already knew the potential consequences."
"Try opening it without emptying your stomach next time."
You flash him a look. "I think I miss when you pretended I didn't exist."
"And I miss getting a full night of sleep."
"Can we just get started? I'm ready."
Ghost keeps his eyes on you as he motions a fisted hand. "As you wish."
When the familiar dance begins, and adrenaline ripples up your spine, you realize that you missed this yesterday. The rest felt good, but this— the thrill of seeing Ghost start to get as worked up as you, the sweat stains on his shirt matching your own... it is something you itch for these days.
You get a few hits in that have your ego swelling. But then— the rough night catches up with you after half an hour of wordless sparring. Your breathing grows labored, while his is barely winded.
"Tired yet?" he asks.
"No," you say, but he calls you out immediately.
"You're a terrible liar," he reminds you. A few more swings have your lungs burning as you dodge until one finally catches up with you, and whatever healing your homemade salve has done is erased by a fresh layer of pain.
As you clutch your side, he changes the subject. "Are you going to tell me what it was about then?"
"What what was about?"
"Whatever was making you whimper in your sleep."
Your face twists. "I wasn't 'whimpering'."
"Fine, then. Crying," he corrects plainly.
You sigh through your nose, averting your gaze only for a moment, then focusing back on him before he can strike you again. His words hang in the air, ignored, as you jab an elbow toward his ribs. He grabs you by the knob of it and pulls you unnecessarily close to his chest. When you try to wriggle free by placing a hand on his chest, he fists your hair, which has slipped out of a bun into a haphazard ponytail, and tugs hard enough to force your eyes up to his.
His gaze is demanding but his voice is light— a mere breath over your forehead. "Tell me why someone who has seen plenty of infected kids by now seemed so bothered by the one she saw yesterday. He reminded you of someone, didn't he?"
The mention of it makes you snap. "Stop."
"Stop what?"
"Trying to act like you know anything about me."
"I know enough. You are easy to read."
So that feeling you get when he looks at you isn't just in your head; he truly can see through. Your nails dig into your palm. "There's no need to read me. We're not friends. We're just... allies, or whatever."
"Or whatever," he repeats thoughtfully, tasting the words. "You talk like a teenager."
"Compared to you I might as well be," you retort.
"Jesus." He chuffs out an exhale, eyes flickering down for a moment before returning up to yours, narrowing. "Let's not change the subject here."
"Fine. Take this stupid Halloween mask off," you lift the hand on his chest up to the hem of his balaclava, feeling how weighted the fabric is with sweat. "And I will tell you all about it."
His jaw flexes before he gently guides your hand away. "Tempting offer, but I'll pass."
You refuse to acknowledge the tinge of embarrassment at his dismissal and inch back as far as the hand on your hair will allow. The close proximity, or harsh sun, is making it hard to breathe. "Well, it's not fair for you to ask me shit about my life when you don't even let me see your face."
"I never claimed to be fair."
"I promise I won't vomit no matter how ugly you are. I've seen worse things out here."
His hand tightens. "I think I miss when you were scared of me. Less mouthy back then."
"Well, I'm not anymore."
"No?" He flips you around so your back is against him, one hand settling on the toned curve of your hip. His voice lowers to your ear. "Maybe I need to fix that."
An unwelcomed shiver courses through you. He lets go. A wristbone nudges against your spine, shoving you forward. Irritation simmers in your veins when his remark finally registers, and you whirl around, readying your stance.
"If you even think about threatening me after I explicitly asked you not to, then I would suggest sleeping with a knife tonight."
"Who's threatening who, Twix?" He gives a low chuckle. "Relax. I'm sure I could handle you in my sleep, anyway."
He's egging you on; you know it. And yet, you stubbornly take the bait. His knee— the right one. That's where you got him last time that made him falter. Maybe an old injury. But when you swing a boot at it, he expects your attempt, knocking you away by the ankle.
"Ah. Eager to get me beneath you again?"
Pink sears your cheeks as you wipe a trickle of sweat from your forehead. "I'm eager to humble you for once."
"Might need to keep your dinner down to do that."
You grit your teeth. So maybe he did allow it last time. The realization darts your eyes to his wide stance, searching for an idea. Without second-guessing yourself, you kick at the other knee. He must find your second attempt amusing because he easily predicts it, but before he can catch your leg, you snap it back and drop yourself to the ground.
The brief distraction allows the second of time needed to fit yourself between his legs. You're slim enough to push through, kicking at the inside of both knees once you're on the other side. His legs buckle, and you reach up to pull his arm, finishing the job.
Once he's down, you scramble to get on top, not caring if your boot kicks his face in the process. You grab both of his wrists and bring them above his head, but it's impossible to wrap your fingers all the way around them. Instead, you lace them through his fingers, breathing hard in his face as your breasts meld against the solid heat of him.
"Did you allow that?"
His voice is rougher than you've ever heard it. "No."
Your lips furl. "Good."
A dark gleam passes through his dilated pupils that makes your head fuzzy. You let go of his hands. Immediately, they gravitate to your hips again, thumbs fiercely pressing into the sliver of skin exposed from where your shirt rides up. You don't move even an inch, frozen in place as you stare down at where he grips you against him. That feeling in your gut deepens and spreads. It is hard to pinpoint—so insane and foreign yet familiar at the same time—but one thing is certain: it begins and ends where his rough skin touches yours.
Before you can figure anything else out, a scream shatters the air, and Ghost rips you off of him in one swift movement.
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Name: Hot-Hot Rock
Debut: Super Mario Bros. Wonder
You know something I love about the Mario series? Its tendency to use reduplication to put emphasis on certain words. You thought your average everyday mountain was tall? Well this is a Tall Tall Mountain. You've never seen docks quite this dire before! And it's not even just adjectives that get in on the fun! Rock Rock Mountain, Ice Ice Outpost, I love that something can be more "rock" or "ice" than something else. Sometimes a word is so nice, you just wanna say it twice twice.
Hot-Hot Rocks are one of the latest additions to this long-running Mario trend, and also one of our latest Cubic Companions! You know, Blocks are very important to the Mario franchise, but how many enemies can you think of that are blocks...? The answer should be a lot. This was a Mod Hooligon Trick and you may or may not have fallen for it. I can't tell unless you tell me, alright?
Hot-Hot Rocks first appear in the level Hot-Hot Hot! (this is an example of a linguistic phenomenon known as "threeduplication"), where they serve as one of the primary obstacles. As long as Hot-Hot Rocks are Not-Hot, you can stand on them like any other platform. But when they start glowing red, you better get out of the kitchen, because Mario and friends can't stand the heat!
Of course, a little water is all it takes to turn Hot-Hot Rocks into Not-Hot Rocks for good, so spray them with Elephant Mario's trunk or a precariously placed pot of water, and they won't be able to hurt you anymore!
Hot-Hot Rocks have a symbiotic relationship with another new enemy called Kerpop, which will probably get its own post someday, likely courtesy of Mod Chikako. These guys act like Goombas most of the time, but when they touch a hot Hot-Hot Rock, they will pop and begin jumping around! How cute! This attention to detail is what makes Super Mario Bros. Wonder truly special.
That's about all there is to Hot-Hot Rocks, but we're not quite done yet, because this post is about to get all philisolophical(sic)! Because as Weird Mario Enemies, an important part of that title-we-love-to-defy-and-love-bringing-up-how-much-we-love-to-defy-it is knowing what an "enemy" is to begin with. And so we must ask ourselves: what is an enemy? What separates an enemy from an obstacle? And is there even a meaningful difference...?
I can't say I can give you an answer. But I can give you a bunch of thought exercises under the cut! You like those, right?
You do like those! Thanks for looking under the cut, I really appreciate it.
So if we want to have a discussion of what counts as an "enemy" in the context of a video game, we should probably have a rough definition of what we think an "enemy" is in the first place. It's tough to look for edge cases of something that doesn't have any edges.
I personally think a good starting definition is along the lines of "a character designed with the intent of hurting the player," or something roughly like that. And now that we have a definition, we can scrutinize the hell out of it!
On the left we have Thwomp. Thwomp is a classic Mario Enemy. The kind you'd see featured on @regularmarioenemies. We invite Thwomp over for dinner every Sunday, and Thwomp always smashes the dinner table because that's just what Thwomp does. On the right we have Karamenbo. Karamenbo does the exact same thing that Thwomp does, but it doesn't have a face! And despite the fact they act the exact same way, this simple design difference leads to most people considering Thwomp an "enemy" and Karamenbo an "obstacle"!
Is the difference between an enemy and an obstacle really something so simple as having a face? And if so...
What do we make of Lava Bubble, another Classic Mario Enemy that only sometimes has a face? Are they only an enemy when they have a face? Or are they allowed to always be enemies in spite of their occasional facelessness? Or alternatively, are they prohibited from being enemies despite their occasional befacedness? I don't know, and my "the fact I am writing for this blog" tells me I should probably be an expert in this field!
And what about Moonsnake? What could easily be dismissed as a simple obstacle like a Spike Bar is revealed by in-game text to be a living creature! Does this allow it to be classified as an enemy instead? Does something become an enemy just because there's text saying it's alive? Do ghosts and robots count as alive? Is a thorny flower an enemy instead of an obstacle, or does the specific choice of the word "creature" make a meaningful distinction here?
What if I told you there's official text calling Karamenbo a type of Thwomp, does that change your perception of it?
And we haven't even started touching on the idea of whether or not enemies need to hurt you. Let me ask you an important question...
Are Hoppos enemies? They can not hurt you. Whenever you touch them, you just bounce off, and sure, you might be bounced into something that can hurt you, but Hoppo is just an animal. Is it really Hoppo's fault? Could Hoppo be charged with manslaughter for bouncing Mario into a bottomless pit? Are bottomless pits a type of enemy?
Flomps, Bomps, these can not hurt you directly, but they can cause you to get hurt! And they're relatives of Thwomp, too! Do these factors matter in defining them as an enemy? Bomps act basically the same as the Push-Blocks from Super Mario Odyssey, and the wiki classifies those as mere platforms!
Is mayonnaise an enemy? I don't even know anymore!
Basically, enemies are a subclass of obstacle but there's not really a meaningful distinction that separates them. Literally the only thing that separates an enemy from an obstacle is the Vibes. Nothing else matters! Sorry! But what does that mean for our blog...?
Absolutely nothing! As I've said multiple times, we stopped caring about that distinction ages ago. We're hardly even a Mario blog anymore! I just wanted to subject you to my ramblings because I've had this in the back of my mind for a while now and well I had to say it somewhere.
And since I subjected you to several paragraphs of ramblings that amount to basically nothing... am I an enemy...?
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Hello! I love your writing, it's so cute! Here's an Idea bouncing around in my head: Reader is a shy and easily flustered individual who's developed a crush on Alastor. However they try to keep their distance as they know he's Aro/Ace and doesn't want to overstep boundaries. They go to Lucifer a (somewhat) expert on romance and feelings of longing to vent, also developing a crush on Lucifer- (Reader is a hopeless romantic lol)
Anyway, hope you have a nice day and remember to drink water!
|| The Price of Love || Alastor x Reader x Lucifer
tags: gn!sinner!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, love triangle, miscommunication, blood/injuries, mild nudity mention, divorced!Luci, I had to make it a bit comical, I made this too angsty for my own liking now I'm sad 😭, protective bois
This is a one shot. I won't be writing a part two. Thank you! :)
A dreamy sigh echoes from your lips, swirling down the empty hallway. You're sitting on your bed with your knees pulled to your chest with a clawed hand over your heart. Sometimes you miss the thrum of your heartbeat against your fingers. With all of the people occupying Hell, you didn't expect to feel quite this lonely.
You stare down at the pocket watch in your hands. Such a tiny device cost quite a fortune, but it was a true antique having been manufactured in the 1920s. Your intention was to give it to Alastor. Yet, you never did.
Despite everything in your being wanting you to give him the simple gift, a token of your love and your friendship, you just couldn't. You were already internally setting yourself up for a failure that may not even come. You weren't sure Alastor would ever be into someone, let alone you. So, allowing these thoughts to fester you withdrew yourself from him. Forcing smiles when around him and the others, faking laughter; all of which Alastor could see right through. Every time he tried to seek you out, to confront you, you were already engaged with someone else or another task for the hotel.
You were actively allowing your depression to swallow you whole all the whole not realizing that if you had only asked, Alastor's feelings are the same as yours. He just didn't know how to approach you and Rosie thought it best to let you come to him; yet you never did. Even Alastor was finding it a bit hard to keep that smile on his face. Why won't you just approach him? He...He can't do it. Please.
A dreary day in Hell with violent lightning and thunderclouds and acidic rain brought you into the company of Lucifer Morningstar himself. He could smell your sadness from miles away and like clockwork, he instantly pulls you under his wings.
"Now then, sweetling, what brings you to see the Big Boss Man Himself?" Lucifer grins, crossing his leg over his knee nursing an apple martini with an apple slice hanging off the sugar-dusted edge. He serves you whatever drink you may like, alcoholic or non-alcoholic.
"I'm in love with Alastor and I don't know what to do! I'm scared to get too close to him because I'm not even sure he's into me like that and I don't want to get hurt!" You sob, the words come pooling out of your mouth like a waterfall and so do the tears.
Lucifer visibly bristles at the mention of his rival, almost choking on his drink. With a snap of his fingers, his martini glass vanishes with a poof! His full attention now on you. Gently, he takes your hand in his gloved one.
Softly, he begins. "Getting hurt is unfortunately part of the risk of being in love. It lets you know what you feel is or was real. It's not the end of the world, not by a long shot. Everyone who we meet and who we love crosses our paths for a reason. To teach us something, either for a short chapter or they'll be lifelong companions. Even in the afterlife, there are still people worth risking the hurt for." Smiling wobbly, Lucifer embraces you close. "Take a few deep breaths. If this is truly how you feel, talk to him about it. We may be magic down here in Hell but not all of us are mind-readers, darlin'."
For the first time in a long while, you smile too. Embracing him again with a laugh.
Standing to leave, you turn to your friend. "May I see you again?"
Lucifer let out a tiny gasp, a slight pink hue coating his cheeks. "I'd like that a lot!" He jumps up. "I can show you how to paint rubber ducks!"
When you finally return from your outing, you're in a much more visibly happy mood. With eyebrows raised, Alastor watches from the shadows as you whistle a happy little tune and make your way up the stairs and veer to the left towards your bedroom. A familiar scent clings to your own, one that makes his lips curl back in a vicious snarl. Lucifer.
"Now darling, I think it's time that we have a talk--" Alastor materializes from the shadows, fully manifesting into your bedroom. You shriek in surprise.
Immediately, you snap. "Alastor, what the fuck! OUT."
Alastor, who has been turned away from you, spins to face you aghast that you'd speak to him in such a manner as you never have before, only to quickly cover his eyes. You were standing in the privacy of your bedroom, almost entirely naked except for those flimsy bottoms you called your underwear. Alastor swallows thickly at the sight of your bare skin, even when you wrap your blanket around your body. He feels lightheaded.
"My apologies, dearest. Ta-ta!" In a plume of smoke, Alastor fades out of the room. By the time he returns to his radio tower, he's gasping with his palm covering his face which was now nearly as red as his hair. He's ashamed he hadn't shown more decorum and instead witnessed you in such a state. Even when angry with him, you had never looked more alluring.
Lucifer swung by the hotel rather unexpectedly, surprising Charlie with a new plant for her bedroom and crushing Maggie into a huge hug! The place was really coming along, he had to admit. There was a more inviting atmosphere to the hotel now since it was rebuilt. It almost felt cozy.
"Dad, what brings you by?" Charlie smiles, carefully handing the plant over to Vaggie.
Lucifer smiles. "I'm here to pick up a friend for a little coffee date and I figured I'd say hi to my favorite daughter and my favorite soon-to-be daughter-in-law!" He coos, squishing Charlie's cheeks between his gloved hands.
On queue, you're walking down the stairs into the foyer. "Lucifer!" You beam, a large smile crossing your cheeks. His tummy flutters at the sight. The outfit you had on was darling, suiting you to a T.
A crackle of static explodes into the front lobby, the Radio Demon taking form between you and the Morningstars. Alastor's eyes immediately narrowing at the unwelcomed guest, at least in his mind.
Laughing nervously, Charlie wedges herself between her father and friend. The air rippled with electricity as the two stared the other down.
"Okay, you two, calm down. Let's not start anything, ok?" She glances at Vaggie for help who simply shrugs her shoulders; setting Charlie's new plant baby aside. Approaching slowly you stand by Lucifer's side. Placing a hand on the King's shoulder, Alastor nearly explodes with radio feedback. An eerie green glow consuming his form.
Static voice dripping with malice spits out, "You're going out with him." It wasn't a question.
Casting a look over your shoulder, you nod at Alastor. "We're going out for coffee."
The Radio Demon is practically seething with venomous rage--not at you, but at the puny little shortstack of a King who thinks he can meddle with those in his life. "You don't deserve their attention, Morningstar."
Lucifer balks. "You had your chance, pal! You snooze, you lose." Alastor's expression turns to one of confusion.
"What do you mean?" The radio filter is gone from his voice.
Snarling, Lucifer glowers at him. "They were in love with you! And now I'm here to pick up the pieces-- oh, fuck, you didn't tell him did you, sweetling?" His gaze is gentle as he regards you. You're begging for the ground to swallow you up.
Fighting back tears, you fidget on the spot. You're looking everywhere but at the two men who have held your heart captive. There was the love you held for Alastor, pure and genuine. How you got together like pieces of a puzzle. And then there was your love for Lucifer, intimate and loving. He was able to teach a part of you that you'd long forgotten. He helped you smile again.
Alastor shoves Lucifer out of the way, his clawed hands cupping your face. He wipes away those tiny tears with a gentleness no one in the hotel had seen. "Je t'aime tellement, mon cour."
Lucifer, now in his Full Demon form, shoves Alastor aside and grasps your arm. You let out a cry of pain, making the two males jump. With the appearance of his full form his claws had accidentally sunk too deep into your skin. Red leaked from the four deep gashes slashed across your skin, staining the sleeve of your lovely shirt. Your pretty eyes pooling with tears.
Like a true beast, Alastor explodes into his demonic form, arms outstretched to shield you behind him. Lucifer can only fixate on the blood dripping down your arm. Vaggie and Charlie are tugging you away while Husk prepares the First-Aid kit.
Lucifer is only able to stare at the tiny pool of blood you had left behind and the pain in his eyes. And then there was Alastor, ever the gentleman, always the one fighting for your honor, looking damn well ready to devour the entire fucking Earth for you.
And Lucifer felt he deserved whatever he had coming to him. His own words echo in his head: "Getting hurt is unfortunately part of the risk of being in love. It lets you know what you feel is or was real."
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
#hazbin hotel imagines#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin imagines#alastor x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#cherubfae 2024
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I look better under you
Based on the song Snooze - Sza
Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader
Warnings: smut, mentions of scars, jealousy. Doesn't exactly follow plot canon.
Summary: After two years apart after the incident with Kuma in Sabaody, you and Zoro meet again.
A/N: I was thinking about doing some stories based on songs, especially in the future using one from Cowboy Carter for Ace because it makes so much sense to me. While that doesn't happen, we're left with Snooze, which is one of my favorites from Sza.
requests open | one piece masterlist
Long as you dreamin' 'bout me, ain't no problem
I don't got nobody, just with you right now
Tell the truth, I look better under you
I can't lose when I'm with you
How can I snooze and miss the moment?
You just too important
Nobody do body like you do
Your body itched when you saw a handful of greenish hair appearing on the horizon of the Sabaody archipelago. It was two long years without seeing each other, without talking, without the little escapades in the crow's nest where you spent hours tangled up in each other. Before you could prepare to talk to him, Sanji and Luffy also appeared in your field of vision, running in some direction you hadn't noticed yet.
"Let's go!" Luffy passed you who immediately started running to keep up with them.
"Finally a beautiful and real woman." Sanji's eyes practically threw hearts in your direction. "So beautiful, so fragrant, so..."
For a few seconds you thought Zoro was going to complain about Sanji, like they always did, but he remained quiet just as he didn't show any reaction when he saw you.
Your companions didn't know about the little escapades the two of you had and for a long time it was what made sense to you. Until your eyes witnessed Kuma erase Zoro's existence before your eyes, at least that's what you believed for a while.
"Isn't that the pretty girl from Thriller Bark?" Sanji caught your attention. A few meters away you recognized the pink hair and the gothic style.
The woman's face was almost glued to Zoro's as she yelled at him. Too close to be just a coincidence. "Why haven't you left here yet?" "I brought you here for nothing." Perhaps your vision was obstructed by the anxiety of being back - which now became a bitterness on your lips. Apparently the two years passed differently for him.
Ignoring the confused feelings, you and your companions ran towards the Sunny and before the navy even thought about reaching you, the ship was already sailing towards the next island.
"It's so good to have everyone back!" Nami hugged you tightly in a hug. "Come on, tell me what you were doing this whole time."
Islands with carnivorous plants, strange laboratories, giant birds, a castle with a certain girl with pink hair. Zoro was sitting next to you. As they listened to everyone talk, something about his posture seemed to show some discomfort in being there.
Everyone seemed to accumulate stories and adventures to tell and despite the small puddle of hurt that accumulated in you, you were happy to see your friends again.
"And you." Robin turned towards you. "What challenges have you encountered?"
"I went to a village that was being attacked by venomous insects. We had to keep shooting at them all the time and maybe that improved my aim." You took one of the small knives from your waistband and threw it past the small gap between Nami's neck and hair.
"Shown off." Zoro murmured next to you, attracting your attention for a brief second.
"Did the animals do this?" Usopp pointed to your arm.
Attracting everyone's eyes, you turned your arm, showing the scars that started on your fingers and went almost to the height of your shoulder.
"No." you smiled sympathetically as the shooter looked on attentively. "Let's just say not everyone on this island was nice or interested in the end of the demonic insects."
The others nodded and it didn't take long for them to engage in another story, paying attention to all the news. Even though you weren't looking in his direction, you could feel yourself being watched the entire time.
After a long conversation, everyone decided to explore Sunny. Review what they left behind, prepare for the next challenges. Before you could do the same, you felt an arm pulling you towards one of the rooms.
"What the hell is this." you saw Zoro in your field of vision. One of his hands closed the door and the other rested on the side of your head.
"It's been so long." he murmured, his face seeking the direction of your lips. Begrudgingly, you dodged his kiss. "What?"
He tried again and saw you repeat the gesture. It took his brain a few seconds to process all the possibilities.
He tried again and saw you repeat the gesture. It took his brain a few seconds to process all the possibilities.
"I understand." he started walking away. "Two years is too long, I understand that maybe you found someone else."
"I did this?" The tone of his voice was shrill and full of indignation. "Says the guy who was with the goth girl there. Did you enjoy your enchanting romance in an incredible castle?"
"Are you crazy?" Zoro analyzed you for a few seconds, seeing how safe it was to approach you. His hands found your chin and when you tried to move away from his touch, Zoro held on even tighter. "You know I had nothing to do with her. You know no one is like you."
Your own hands found his and went up to your face, relief was written on your face. Gently, one of your fingers traced the scar that closed his eye.
"Who made this?" you whispered, wanting to hold that little moment between the two of you.
"No one that matters now." He turned his face, kissing one of your hands. His gaze soon reached your immense scar. "About what you said outside, who was the bastard that hurt you?"
"No one that matters now." You smiled, enjoying his touch on your face. "You know I hate her, don't you?"
"Perona?"
"I wish I had killed that bitch in Thriller Bark!" you grumbled, earning a laugh from Zoro.
He wanted to kiss you, heavens he wanted to be able to take you there but he had missed hearing you too much and seeing your eyes shining in his direction. Everything else could wait.
"You only say that because she was playing with the ghosts and you."
"Exactly." your hands went down to the back of his head, pulling him closer. "I'd kill that bitch again just to think of her stealing what's mine."
You could feel Zoro's laughter almost on your skin, given the proximity. "So jealous" he murmured and before his lips stole yours, the two of you were interrupted when you were thrown from the door and the presence of a euphoric Luffy appeared.
"Let's eat! Sanji is going to make a huge feast for you and us." he pulled you by the shoulders. "Can you get your knife between Brook's ribs, say yes, please."
"Does he know you want to do this?" you asked him, taking advantage of Zoro's support to stand up.
"He said he'll accept it, if you let him see the color of your panties." Luffy spoke with a naturalness that brought laughter from you and a groan from the swordsman.
"He won't see, but..." you warned, tugging at the waistband of your pants. "It's pink, with white polka dots." Brook's scream outside indicated that he had heard the entire conversation and had probably combusted.
"Hit his head." Zoro grumbled, leaving the room before you.
A lot of thrown knives, a huge feast made by Sanji - and considering that Luffy ate more than half of it claiming he missed the food the cook made. You watched some of your friends retreat to your quarters.
"Has anyone seen Zoro?"
"He said he would be upstairs if anyone needed him." Chopper warned you and you thanked him, leaving him behind.
Knowing he would probably be alone, you walked up the stairs to the crow's nest and entered unceremoniously. Zoro was lying down, contemplating the ceiling.
"I thought it would take longer." He stood up, coming towards you.
"It's just that everyone is going to sleep, I think we can talk properly now." the words barely had space to leave your lips before Zoro reached you and crashed his lips into yours.
Your hands were against his chest and even though you wanted to move away to at least try to talk before finding out what happened during this time outside, Zoro's lips took yours in an intoxicating way. Honey, drinks and longing mixed in your mouths.
"We can talk later." he murmured, almost reading your thoughts. "I just miss you."
"Me too." your lips heaved as you felt his arms lift you so that your legs were wrapped around his.
Such a movement was made only so that Zoro could take you to the ground in a strange delicacy on his part. The green threads became your fingers' favorite path while his hands removed the few pieces of clothing that your body still had.
"No one that matters now?" he traced some scars that adorned your back and watched you twitch. "I'll still kill the bastard."
"This someone is no longer here for you to take revenge on." you took his lips as a distraction for your hands to slide over the shoulders hidden in the kimono.
"That's my girl."
Scars, bruises, nothing would take away the pleasure of Zoro's contemplation. The long two years didn't really seem that long until he saw you. How can you wait so long? How did he not go crazy and come back even if he swam to Sabaody?
"Hi greenie." You caught his attention by letting your hands caress his cheek. "Are you ok babe?"
"You are so beautiful." The words came out suddenly as if it were common for you to hear that every day.
If it were up to him alone, he would make a point of repeating that all night and for the rest of the next nights as well. Your eyes looking down at him asking for attention to your body, your legs closing against his body, small sighs as you felt him touch you. You underneath him was one of the best sights Zoro would have for the rest of his life.
His lips traced every contour of your skin. Every shiver was swallowed by a kiss, every shiver was trapped between his lips. The damp fabric of your panties didn't last long as a hindrance to the swordsman who turned you into tatters. It was like enjoying a feast after years of scarcity, drinking the divine honey that flowed from you.
"Still delicious." "I missed you so much."
Zoro couldn't contain a light laugh when he saw you cover your mouth with both hands, avoiding the screams that hit your body as you poured yourself onto his lips. Your waist took on a life of its own with the sensitivity of your pussy against his tongue.
Without any effort, Zoro turned you around and, handling you, placed your body on top of him, in a lotus position. His cock brought friction against your clitoris, your belly burning with pure anxiety and his hands made your hips move against him without even penetrating you. Your lips already hurt from the pressure you used to not let any noise escape.
"Let me hear you, please." One of his hands caught your hair, placing your head against the back of his neck. "Moan just for me baby. I need to hear you."
"Zoro, fuck, don't torture me. Just fuck me, please."
Hearing you beg was the closest thing a devil like him would get to heaven. Wrong, so wrong. Feeling your pussy contract with every inch he put in, that was paradise.
Despite feeling like you could explode at any moment, you moved slowly, not wanting the night to end. The grips against your ass, the eager hands pressing you against the base of his cock. Neither of them seemed to be able to last long.
The peak reached you first, your lips against the sweaty back of your neck, your fingers prickling the green strands begging for more and more, it was enough for Zoro to sink his teeth into your soft skin, containing his own moans and filling you up.
He lay down, still keeping himself inside you and allowing you to lay against his chest.
"You have new ones too." Your fingers traced some new scars.
"You don't like them?"
"Still beautiful, as always. Zo?"
" What do you need, sweet?"
"I know it wasn't our choice, but... Promise that if we get separated again, we'll find a way and find each other." Your eager eyes drew a sigh from the man, who pressed you even tighter against his embrace.
"This is the easiest promise I've ever made."
The sun began to rise when you could no longer keep your eyes open. With your body tied to Zoro's and covered by his kimono, without worrying if anyone would arrive, the two of you both took a snooze.
#fiction#reader insert#one piece#no use of y/n#requests open#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro#zoro x reader#zoro x you#zoro roronoa x reader#zoro roronoa x y/n#smut#minors do not interact
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"Why's there only one bed?!"
Character's origins -> Honkai Star Rail
Featuring -> Gepard, Dan Heng, Jing yuan, Blade
Warnings -> None
Genre -> ❃
Synopsis -> What happens when there's only one bed?
Dated on -> 15 June, 2023
Masterlist Part 2
A/n -> '........' meaning a very short time skip
In farther lands to carry out the main propaganda, one has to fulfill their tasks at hand. To their luck, they have a great companion at their side, that is you.
..........
Clacking of shoes against the wooden floor of the inn, the old man at the reception looks up at the two young individuals.
..........
"I-I'm afraid there's only one room available s-sir."
Your companion sighed, "We'll take it."
Your eyes scanned the condition of the inn as you made your way across the hallway with Dan Heng. It wasn't the best but it wasn't too bad either. Dan Heng's steps halted in front of a door making you stop as well, the sound of keys jiggling before he opened the door, his and your eyes widening a fraction in union. "I thought there would be two beds..." Came your almost inaudible whisper but he caught it nonetheless, nodding slightly. "I thought so as well. You can take the bed, I'll take the floor if-"
"No-!" Came your reply a little too quickly, causing you to flush at yourself, "I-I mean the floor would be uncomfortable. I get that you're used to sleeping on it but we need a good night's rest for tomorrow's expedition." He cleared his throat," So um..."
"W-we can share... If it's okay with you of course." Your voice trailed off, nervous, as you entered the room to avoid meeting his gaze. "Fine with me."
..........
The rustling in bed didn't stop as Dan Heng changed his position every two minutes. Being fed up, you turned to face him, touching the side of his face which caused him to halt, opening his eyes," Can't sleep?" Your tired yet soft voice spoke. "Yeah.." He nodded, looking down. "Something unpleasant keeping you up?" You asked carefully, knowing how sensitive the topic is as he nodded once more. You extended your hand to the space in between you two. "You can hold my hand if you want, it might help you ground yourself to reality." You smiled gently as he eyed your hand before he hesitantly extended his, just placing in above yours. It went unnoticed by you on how his lips curved up ever so slightly at the size different as your eyes fell shut, your other hand still on his cheek. His eyes marveled at your beauty in the dim moonlight as his fingers interlaced with yours in a gentle yet firm grip, his breathing evening out as he closed his eyes, kissing the palm of your hand that rests on his face. His heart fluttered in his chest as he felt you squeeze his hand back as he heard himself say something he never would if you were awake.
"You're my escape my love. Sleep well."
"You have to be careful next time Gepard. What face will I show to Serval if she gets to know I caused her brother to get hurt." You scolded softly as you finished wrapping the bandages around Gepard's bisep and torso. The wounds weren't too grave, just light scrapes and bruises but still. " I did what I was supposed to do (Y/n). I can't just let you get hurt, especially when I can do something about it." You sighed, "stubborn as always." You flicked his forehead as you put away the medical kit you borrowed from the inn keeper. "What was that for now?" You ignored his question, "Get some rest, you need it Gep." His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, " What about you ..?"
"I'm not that tired yet." You spoke as you sat on the chair that was placed by the window of the small room. "As if (Y/n). Don't act like I don't notice that tired sighs or that stretches you do to keep yourself from feeling that you're actually tired. You're just denying the obvious." Your heart fluttered at the fact on how observent he was. 'No wonder he's the captain.' You stood up after long moments of him staring hole into your head in silence, knowing it'd be no use to bargain with him.
...........
Strong, firm arms hugged your waist from behind, pulling you against him on the small bed. "You know..." He started, his breath lingering and sending shivers down your spine as he spoke, " If you scoot any further, you'll fall off the bed." Your breath got caught in your throat at the close proximity as you chose to stay quiet, silently burying your head into the pillow as you felt his arms tighten around you. You couldn't deny that Gepard was incredibly handsome, and it'd be a lie if you said you didn't feel anything for him. But you rendered yourself helpless in situations like these. Even more so when you thought of the fact that he's your best friend's brother.
"How are you so calm about the situation General?" The said man looked up from his spot on the bed that he had made his home on after getting into a comfortable set of clothing. "Hm? I thought I was acting quite accordingly Admiral (Y/n). Perhaps not. My apologies, but anyhow, you should come to bed and rest, I'm quite sure you're exhausted by now." You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing. "That's the thing. This bed can barely fit you on it given your big stature let alone me as well." The general gave a hearty chuckle, " Well, the situation can not be helped. Also given the fact that divinator Lady Fu had taken both of our house's keys." "And who's fault was it?" You snapped, Jing Yuan was a capable person but his tendency to put off work and drag you with it reached new heights. "There's no point in digging up old matters now is there Admiral (Y/n)? And speaking of space, there's plenty for you." He spoke, scooting slightly, patting the side of the bed he was sitting on. Barely, barely enough for you.
............
Your eyes fluttered open to gentle motions of up and down on your back. Lifting your head up to see where you placed your phone to check the time but the cozy feeling made it hard for you to keep your eyes open, your head falling onto the hard surface, the sound of heartbeat making you too calm to just drift again.... 'Wait... Heartbeat?' You jolted awake, eyes blown wide as you looked down, eyes falling onto "General?!" He just smiled softly, hazed with sleep himself, pulling you down onto him once more, as he ran his fingers through your hair, " A pleasant morning to you too (Y/n). Go back to sleep. We still have time before we need to get up." Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his voice, your name falling off like rose petals in contrast to his gravely morning voice. You opened your mouth to protest, knowing very well the situation is anything but suitable for two people who just work together. "Ji-" the words were cut short from you as he buried your face in his chest, your face blooming with colour at his action, "You were right. The space wasn't enough for the both of us. So I pulled you on top of me so we could both sleep comfortably. Hope you don't mind..." His voice trailed off as he drifted off mid talking, his grip around your upper back tight, leaving you no room to escape as you sighed in defeat. 'Silly General.'
"(Y/n) I swear if you pull the covers one more time" Blade muttered under his breath as he yanked the covers towards him, as much as he could anyway since you practically cocooned yourself inside the blanket. Placing his forearm over his eyes he tried to go back to sleep, only for the covers to be pulled off of him..... Once again. Blade sat up, garing daggers at your back as you slept peacefully, " Why the hell did I agree to come with them." You shifted in bed facing him, mumbling but just enough for him to hear, "Stop grumbling about it and shut up, I can't sleep with you talking."
"You little shi- *smack*" well that certainly earned him a pillow in the face. He grabbed the pillow, throwing it across the room as you whined at that, "Hey! I needed that!" He smirked," You should have thought about that before smacking me with it." You huffed as Blade laid down beside you and all of a sudden, you were being pulled into his arms. "H-hey-!" Your face flushed. You and Blade were... you frankly didn't know how to describe it. But you two were close enough to not feel awkward about there only being one bed. Most of the times you two just threw insults at each other, interfering in each other's business but this action left you... Speechless, to say the least. "What? You think you can get away with hogging all the blanket to yourself? Not. Happening. Now deal with this." Was all he said before closing his eyes, features relaxing from his usual expression as his breathing starts to even out. Your heartbeat increased the longer you stared at his face, breath hitching as you felt him move, his arms pulling you impossibly closer as he whispered, "It's rude to stare you know."
Yours truly
Starlight
#x reader#fluff#x you fluff#hsr x you#hsr gepard#hsr x reader#hsr blade x reader#hsr x y/n#hsr dan heng#honkai fluff#honkai star rail x reader#honkai x reader#honkai x you#honkai star rail#dan heng x reader#hsr jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#honkai gepard#gepard x reader#blade x reader#dan heng#honkai jing yuan#jing yuan#gepard landau#gepard#hsr blade#xreader#xreader fluff#x you#hsr x reader fluff
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Request for Ren! Could I request a scenario for Astarion to react to his gender neutral crush said they would sleep on the couch while he sleeps on the bed when both of them had to share a room with one bed? Even though the bed is big enough for both of them!
I woke up at like 3 in the morning (don't worry, I went back to sleep), saw this, and spent like 20 minutes thinking about it. I think I even dreamt about it! Thank you so much for the ask, and I hope you like what I wrote!
~*~*~
While you wouldn't necessarily complain about sleeping in the wilds, with the stars above your head and the sound of creatures going about their business, you had to admit having a roof to block out the rain and a comfortable bed to cushion your back was a nice change of pace.
"We don't have enough rooms for everyone in your party, unfortunately," comes the innkeep, flipping through her books. "Hopefully you aren't against rooming up."
"It would be cheaper that way," voices Wyll with a shrug.
Karlach laughs. "I don't care if I have to sleep on the floor. Give me a nice fluffy pillow and I'll sleep like a babe."
You catch the innkeep's eye and smile. "I think that answers your question."
Setting four keys down on the counter, she motions to the stairs to her right. "Well then, breakfast will be ready in the morning if you're interested. Enjoy your night."
As you grab the keys and turn to your companions, you grin as everyone eyes each other up. Shadowheart and Lae'zel would have to have separate rooms lest you wake up to one of them dead. Maybe the druids wouldn't be against wild shaping into cats that could sleep at the ends of the bed to free up space. Astarion--
Is staring at you with mischief in his eyes.
The moment he sees your eyes lock on his, he sidles up next to you. "What was that, darling? You want to share a room with me?" He puts a hand to his heart. "I'm honored, of course I'll agree. You needn't even ask."
Fighting the smile and giving him an eyeroll, you wave the remaining keys and set them back on the counter. "Figure it out, you guys. I'm tired."
"I would be too," you hear Gale mutter, eyes darting between you two with a raised eyebrow.
Slipping an arm over your shoulders, Astarion turns you toward the stairs. "I wouldn't bother trying to add yourselves to our room. We'll be...busy."
You hear Lae'zel scoff while Wyll laughs, "We know."
Letting him lead you up the stairs and to your room, he leaves you at the door while he sets his pack down on the bed. A single bed, large enough for two, yet... Glancing about the room, you spot a small fainting couch and make your way to it.
Rifling through your pack and grabbing up your nightwear and blankets, you start undoing your clothes. "I can take the couch."
His ruffling stops, and you turn to see his shirt half off, a confused look thrown your way. "What?"
"I can take the couch," you repeat, motioning to it for good measure.
Furrowing his brow, he looks between you and the bed. "Are you blind? There's enough room for both of us, darling."
Raising an eyebrow, you study the bed. While there was enough room to stretch out comfortably, and the thought of cuddling up against Astarion all night makes your heart flutter...
"You'd be comfortable with that?"
He gives you an incredulous look, then you watch as it morphs into a confused look once again, then shifts into one of surprise. Tossing his shirt onto the bed, he approaches you slowly and doesn't stop until your chests are mere inches apart.
The emotions you see in his eyes closes your throat.
"My love," he starts softly, quietly, feathering his fingers down your arm before gently wrapping them around yours, "you always continue to surprise me." Bringing your knuckles to his lips, he places a soft kiss upon them. "I wish for nothing more than to wrap my arms around you, feel you pressed up against me, and keep you all to myself."
Feeling your cheeks burn, you squeeze his fingers and give a smile. "How long have you wanted to tell me that?"
He grins with a wink. "I'll leave that to your imagination. Now!" Pulling you forward, he tugs on your shirt. "Get dressed so we can cuddle and be mushy and gooey and make myself want to throw up."
Laughing, you pull your hand out of his and do exactly as he demands.
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Out of Love (Astarion x reader)
Tw - death, vomiting, assisted suicide, sickness
Recommended Song: Past Hound - Adam Melchor
A couple of moons ago, you came down with a horrific illness. You and Astarion both don't know why, or how. You suspect foul play. After all, you didn't always make friends on your journeys. You wonder if perhaps you were poisoned, someone slipped something into a drink at the bar, changing the course of your life forever. The first month was like a bad flu, high fever, vomiting almost every day, barely able to eat. Over time though, your body started to ache. Astarion knew it was getting bad when you fell in the kitchen, breaking one of his favorite glasses. At first he was enraged, so angry that you could be so careless with one of his prized posessions. Then, he turned the corner and saw you lying on the floor, and quickly reverted his previous sentiments.
You don't remember exactly how long it's been. About two months in, Astarion told Shadowheart and Halsin to come over, realizing this was not going to go away on its own. They, tried, everything. Shadowheart went into a frenzy, reading up on everything she could, trying spells she had never cast before. Halsin got ahold of every other druid he knew in the city, to no avail. Everyone was clueless. The only thing they could determine is that this illness was man-made.
"So some bastard did try to finally get me, huh?"
You smile a little at your own comment, wincing at the pain it brings you. Astarion glares, not at you, but at the idea that someone would do this to you.
"Not funny my sweet."
It's now been four months. Astarion has tried his best to keep up with all the care you need, but it has turned both of your lives to shambles. Eventually he invited all your old companions over, to stay for a while, as they wanted to help with your illness. Despite the fact that he could barely stay awake at times, he would watch over you for hours on end, sometimes twenty at a time, until someone like Lae'zel dragged him out of your room to go lie down.
Gale has cooked every meal for all of you since you've gotten worse. He tries his best to make things from your childhood, things you'd find comforting. Shadowheart and Halsin continue to research your sickness, finding nothing. Wyll, Karlach, and Lae'zel take turns with Astarion, keeping watch over you, tending to your every need. At this point, you can barely get up most days, either from pain or lack of energy. Despite this, you can't ever sleep. If you do manage to drift off, it's for thirty minutes or so, and then you're jolted awake by some pain.
One day though, you're awoken by Astarion and Halsin arguing.
"I'm telling you Astarion, there is nothing I can do. Tav is going to pass. I don't know how soon, but I would start getting things in order."
He tries to hold back tears, to be good with his bedside manner, but it's almost impossible when Astarion keeps yelling back at him, desperate.
"Tav is not going to die. It's not time yet, you have to do something!"
"Please, Astarion. I don't want to fight with you. I know this is hard to hear, but it's over. There's nothing more we can do. There is no cure."
He tenses, ready to spit some nasty sentence about how he must be some great druid if he can't even heal people, but he refrains, wiping at his eyes. He storms off to his study, as all of your friends watch it unfold.
"I knew he was going to react like that."
Gale says sadly, looking down at the floor.
"I'll go take watch, give him some time."
And with that, Karlach comes into your room. You pretend to be asleep.
After a few agonizing hours, it's evening. Karlach brought you some soup that you couldn't bring yourself to even try eating. As the sun sets, Astarion is in the doorway, a grim look in his eyes. Without saying anything, Karlach takes her leave, giving him an understanding nod that you don't see.
When your lover makes his way to the bed, he lies down next to you, locking eyes with your tired gaze. It's as if you've been beaten twelve times over, the bags under your eyes have gotten so dark.
"Hello my sweet."
He smiles softly, trying to hide the sorrow, trying to shelter you from the news Halsin gave him.
"Hello my love."
You smile back, a little bit of pain and pressure in your face at the attempt.
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
You snuggle into his side, trying not to move too much. He meets you halfway.
"I'm just... I'm so tired."
"I know darling... I know."
"No, Astarion. I'm tired of this."
"As am I. Shadowheart and Halsin are working steady as always, they'll find something."
You shake your head, a movement he can feel against his chest.
"No. No I... I heard."
You're exhausted, the air barely leaving your lungs.
"Heard what my dear?"
He's not good at playing dumb, the crack in his voice giving it all away. He hadn't thought about the argument, that you would've heard the two of them yelling about how you're going to die.
"What Halsin... what he told you."
And the tears well in his eyes instantly. He thought he wouldn't have to tell you, that he could keep this sacred thing going, that he could hold you without you needing to know it could all go away so quickly. You hear him sniffle, clearly trying to hold back.
"We don't know it's true Tav, they could still find something. They could be wrong."
His throat is coated in desperation, every word stabbing through your brain, trying to find something in you that believes him, even if he doesn't believe himself.
"They've been at it for months my love. I think it's over."
He grips you a little tighter, wishing for your existence, trying to hold the wind back from the embers of a long-gone flame. You both stay silent for a minute, as you try to work up the courage to ask him something. Something you're not even sure he'll say yes to, but you try.
"I want you to feed on me."
He scoffs, almost angrily.
"No my dear, not while you're sick. You need everything you can get.."
You shake a little, perhaps from the never-ending fever, or maybe from the fear, or the pain.
"No. I mean I want you to feed on me until I'm gone."
He tenses, shocked by your request.
"You... you what?"
You start to tear up, which only brings more pain.
"I'm just so tired Aster, and I've fought for so long. I want it to be over. I'm ready for it to be over, please."
You can barely make it through the end of your sentence without choking up.
"I can't do that, I- I won't!"
He sits up to look at you.
"You can't give up, not like this. There's still time, we still have time."
You reach out for his hand, and he obliges. As you squeeze you fingers into the back of his hand, you ask him one of the hardest questions he's ever had to answer.
"What, so you can watch me continue to suffer?"
He hadn't thought of it, that if this was horrific, how much worse could it get? How long was soon? Even Halsin didn't know how much time, not even an estimate, just... soon. He doubles down.
"No! So that, that maybe you can get better! That we can find the bastard that did this and make him cough up the cure. Maybe we can-"
"Astarion!"
You hadn't yelled for weeks, mustering up everything in your body to overpower his pleading voice. The tears continue to fall down his face, and he leans over, bringing your hand to his face.
"I can't Tav. I can't kill you. You're asking me to destroy the only thing I've ever loved, I-"
The thought of it makes him feel like throwing up, the thought of doing something like that to you. Forever ago he tried feasting on your blood in the middle of the night, long before you fell in love. And when you woke up to a strange man, a monster trying to steal your life force, you were kind. You let him drink from you, and every time he needed to after that.
"I love you so much, and I know you love me so much deeper than I could ever imagine, and I am asking you to do one last thing for me, out of love. I don't want to die to some unknown disease that's been ravaging my body, to pass in my sleep without so much as a thought. I want to die with you, right here, while everyone sleeps, where we can be alone one last time."
It's hard to argue with you, but Astarion feels as though ending your life is hardly an act of love. Mortal lives are already so fleeting, and yet you are asking him to cut it even shorter, to let you go. He meets your eyes again.
"Can I at least go slow?"
"As slow as you'd like."
You weakly smile, and he realizes there is no more considering your offer. This is what you want, and only he can give it to you.
"Okay."
He leans down to kiss you, slowly making his way to your throat, hesitating at first.
"I love you more than you'll ever know."
No pet names, no antics, no fluff. It's the first time you think he's ever said something so serious about how in love with you he is.
"I love you too Astarion."
And it's rare that you ever call each other by your first names. He shivers a little, saying you love 'Astarion' and not 'your sweet' or 'your love.' With your declarations out of the way, he pierces your skin with his fangs, slower than usual. Feeding from you is almost always a rabid act, desperate, feral. He's reserved, savoring every moment, knowing this is it, the last time he'll taste your blood, the last time he'll hold you in his arms, the last time you'll lie in this bed together. When the cold subsides and the numbness takes over, you're at peace for the first time in a long time. All you feel is the slow lapping of your blood, and his grasp tight around you. It feels like forever to you, but moments for him. As the flowing river becomes smaller, the tiniest drops coming out of your neck, he feels your body start to go limp, your skin start to get cold. He fulfills your request despite how much he's hurting, and he drinks until there is nothing left, until you're gone.
A wail echoes through the house, waking up your companions as they rush to see what's happened. As Shadowheart is the first to reach the doorway, she sees Astarion clutching your body, sobbing hysterically. She gets up next to him, clamoring on, asking what happened. He can barely speak, and the rest watch in silence.
"Tav- I- I had to- they wanted me to-"
Guilt-ridden, terrified of what he's done despite you pleading with him minutes ago, Astarion can only stutter the same phrases over and over again.
"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I- I didn't want to- please."
"Hey, it's okay. Astarion. Astarion?"
Shadowheart notices the blood all over his mouth and the sheets, and the two perfect pin pricks in your neck, realizing what he's done. Astarion looks up for a moment, still clutching your dead body in his hands. And then, he points at Halsin.
"YOU. You fool, Tav heard us, they heard what you said. They gave up because of you. I had to kill them because of you..."
He starts to sob again, losing the rage, overcome with a sorrow that is inexplainable. Halsin only stays silent, knowing these are words of grief and not truth.
"Get out."
Halsin starts to step aside, believing the comment to be about him. When no one else moves, Astarion's eyes dart across the room at everyone, almost manic.
"Get out, all of you. GET OUT."
"Astarion, you can't-"
Gale is cut off by what is such a guttural scream, he can hardly believe it came from the vampire.
"LEAVE."
He comes back to your body, sobbing into flesh that no longer feels.
"Just please leave me alone..."
Shadowheart quietly gets off the bed, ushering everyone out of the room, softly closing the door behind her. Astarion can barely hear the murmurs outside the bedroom door, as he begins muttering to your lifeless corpse.
"I'm so sorry my dear... I'm so sorry. I should've done more, I should've told you to stay, I-"
He can't find the words, relentlessly blaming himself for your choice, wondering if there was any way to get around this. His mind wanders to that first month, when you dropped his wine glass, how he yelled from the other room, how he scolded you for being careless with his things, and he realizes how stupid life is. Nothing matters, a wine glass doesn't matter, you matter. And you were the only thing that ever mattered.
Hours go by, and dusk turns to dawn. Eventually, Gale comes back to the door, knocking softly.
"I'm coming in."
He's met with Astarion still, lying with your body, the blood crusted on the sheets, and his bloodshot eyes. It's as if he barely moved.
"I think... I think it's time."
While Gale wishes that Astarion could stay by your side forever, he knows your corpse will start to change soon, to become worse and worse as the hours pass by. It takes him forever to pry your lover from your side, eventually leading him to the living room, where he lies on the sofa, curled up, as Halsin begins to prepare your body.
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