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#goodnight to wizards only
no-effort low quality twitblr featuring instagram. its midnighf im tired but i had to get this outta my brain.
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flipped the pose 4 the height difference. also an example of the phenomenon i drew. twitter and tumblr designs inspired by @zzoupz, @vincepti0n and @deathbars. instagram design pulled right out of my sleep deprived ass. i will revise it tomorrow because this looks like pure garbage.
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lendeah · 4 months
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Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight.
Pairing: Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav
Summary:
Upon reaching the Last Light Inn, your party is informed about the room arrangements: you will have to share rooms in pairs. Fate has it that you find yourself paired with a particularly charming wizard. To add a twist, there's only one bed. or Gale and Tav relive the "there was only one bed" trope.
Tags: Fluff and smut. They are so cute.
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: NSFW (minors dni), thighs, frottage, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, touch starved Gale.
Note: This was going to be a prompt but it got out of hand. Anyway, a small gift for the Gale girlies (me, I am the Gale girlies). Also, not proofread and english isn't my first language, so be gentle!🫶🏻
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"You will have to share rooms in pairs" Yaheira had deadpanned. After our long journey, we finally reached the Last Light Inn. We were hoping for a comfortable bed and some privacy, but our hopes were crushed.
Yaheira didn't seem fazed by our reactions, her expression remaining stoic.
"After all the blood, sweat and tears we poured into saving you lot back there this is the beautiful appreciation we get in return?" Astarion exclaimed dramatically, his tone laced with sarcasm.
Yaheira's cold stare silenced him. "Many soldiers are residing here, sacrificing their own comfort for our cause. Four of them have given up their bedchambers for your stay. You should be grateful," she reprimanded sharply.
The creaky wooden floors and musty smell hinted at the age of the building, but it was a small price to pay for a warm bed and shelter from the danger of the shadows outside. The group stood in a huddle, debating their next move. Wyll's voice rang out confidently "I propose we stay at the camp like we have been doing.".
Karlach's response was immediate and determined: "What, and die in the shadows? No, thank you."
You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling about to faint from weariness. "Guys, we're all exhausted. We should just accept the offer and get some rest. We practically sleep on top of each other every other day anyway."
"Yeah, but not on the same bed." Shadowheart chimed, giving Lae'zel a sly side glance. "And how would we determine who sleeps with whom, anyway?"
Gale, the ever-practical one, interjected: "Perhaps we could employ a method of chance, such as drawing straws, in order to make a resolution?"
So that's how Gale and you end up entering the old dusty and messy bedroom from the last Light Inn. The single bed in the middle seems to be laughing at us.
Gale sighs. "I knew sharing rooms wasn't a good idea. I should just crawl under the bed." He scans the room, eyes coming to rest on the window, with the dark sky looming outside. "I could sleep out there too." He pauses. "The prospect of such a cozy rest is indeed quite alluring. The brisk gusts brushing against my face, as I gaze upwards towards the unobstructed expanse of the starry heavens. Delightful, wouldn't you agree?"
He moves to get out of the door, but you grab his arm, your voice pleading, tinged with desperation from the exhaustion. "Please, Gale, I know it's uncomfortable, but can we just please do this tonight and figure out a better plan tomorrow?"
He swallows, glancing down at your fingers wrapped around his arms. "I-I don't think you realize just how difficult it'll be for me. This bed's too small, and it's too close, and—I can't."
I look at him with my eyes narrowed "If you don't get on the bed in the next five minutes, I am going to use my maze on you. And let me tell you, it hurts"
He looks at me dumbfounded ."...You wouldn't?" You give him a pointed stare. Of course, you don't mean to hurt him, but you are too tired to fight or move for that matter.
He swallows, looking you up and down again. Then he nods and turns toward the bed. "Uh, fine. I guess I'll, uh, get on the bed. However, I cannot guarantee that any peculiar occurrences will not transpire. I mean, not that I expect anything weird to happen. Just, you know, putting it out there. Okay, I'll stop talking now."
Your roll your eyes fondly at his rambling. As Gale awkwardly settles onto the edge of the bed, you quickly change into your undergarments and crawl into the other side. The bed creaks under both of your weight, making Gale flinch. The space feels narrow, forcing you close together. There's barely an inch in between, and any movement sends you brushing up against him. You can feel his body heat radiating off him, a little toasty.
"The dimensions of this bed are rather diminutive," he whispers, staring up at the ceiling under the blanket, unable to make eye contact with you.
"Aren't you sharp" you whisper teasingly.
"It's... it's tiny! How do you expect two fully-grown individuals to successfully sleep in this thing?" He says in an exasperated whisper. It is small, though. Feels like I'm being wrapped in a blanket... Except the blanket is another person.
I sigh in exhasperation, "Gale I am trying to sleep for god's sake!"
Gale shifts uncomfortably, trying to make himself as small as possible on the narrow bed. "I apologize, I didn't mean to disturb your slumber. I just...I can't get comfortable in such confined space."
You let out another sigh, feeling a little bad for him. "I'm sorry. This isn't your fault, but is it possible that we exchange our positions? I don't mean to inconvenience you, but I feel like I can't relax like this. I can sleep on the edge of the bed, and you can sleep in the middle."
You look at him, one second away from grabbing your maze for real. "Gale, there is no middle, every part of this damned bed is the edge!"
Gale, is still fidgeting on his side.
"This is ridiculous," you mutter under your breath.
"I know," he responds quietly. "I'm sorry." He bites his lip, looking up at the ceiling again. "It seems as though you are now stuck with me as your blanket," he says, turning his head in your direction. "I hope this arrangement does not cause any discomfort for you... I would not want to impede upon your sleep."
At that, you can’t help but smile fondly back at him "It could be worse," you remark softly. "I could be stuck with Halsin and his incessant snores."
"Halsin snores?" He blinks in genuine surprise. "I never would have guessed. Is it disruptive? Like a storm tearing through the night?"
You roll your eyes. "You wouldn't know, you sleep like a rock all night." Your words are playful, as you nudge him lightly with your elbow.
"I do not! I am an extremely light sleeper, in fact, the slightest noise can jolt me from my slumber. It's quite a remarkable feat, really." His brow furrows. "Wait, does this imply that you have observed me in my sleep?" He blurts out. He is now on his side too, both of us facing each other.
A soft chuckle escapes from your lips, banishing all thoughts of sleep. "Yeah," you remarked with a playful smile, "I must say, you look really cute when you're sleeping."
The moonlight streaming in through the window cast a gentle glow on Gale's face, making your heart swell with affection. His tousled hair and big brown eyes look even softer in this ambience.
His mouth drops open, his eyebrows now shooting up to his hairline. "I do not look cute while I sleep!"
"So cute, with your cheeks all puffed," you say, reaching out to pinch his cheek playfully.
Gale's face flushes a bright red and he turns away, trying to hide his embarrassment.
"I—I'm not cute when I sleep," he whispers." I am powerful! A talented wizard, a master of magic. I do not need to be "cute". And I'm not!" But as he protests, you can't help but notice the way his cheeks flush and how his hair sticks up in all directions, making him look endearingly disheveled. You can't resist the temptation and reach over to tickle his middle. "Cutie!"
"I am not!" he protests, giggling as you tickle him. "Stop it! You're making me... gahahaha!" His laughter bubbles out of him despite his attempts to hold it in.
You laugh too, enjoying the sound of his laughter. "See? Cute."
"I'm not cute!" he gasps out between laughs. "I'm... hahaha... I'm powerful!" He tries to sit up, but you pin him down with your hand on his chest. "You are cute, Gale. And you're adorable when you laugh," you say, looking into his eyes. He looks at you, his cheeks still flushed with laughter and embarrassment. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other before Gale clears his throat and lays on his side again.
"Gale?" I call out softly, hoping to break the silence.
"Yes...?"His voice is barely audible.
Smirking mischievously, you decide to push his buttons a little more.
"You know, I have trouble falling asleep unless I'm cuddled up next to someone." you whisper
He flinches. It takes a moment for your request to fully register, and he stares at you with a mixture of shock and confusion.
"...Are you serious? You want me to cuddle you?"
You nod eagerly, a hopeful smile playing on your lips. "Usually it would be Shadowheart offering, but she's not here right now."
"You want—me, to wrap my arms around you, to..."
His eyes narrow. "Am I hearing you right? You're asking me, to hold you?"
You roll my eyes "Yes Gale, that is usually how cuddling works."
Gale looks at you, taken aback by your request. His face flushes with embarrassment as he considers your words. "Um...I-I'm not entirely certain if that would be a prudent course of action," he stammers out, looking away from you.
"Forget it," Frustration wells up inside of you and you let out a low grunt before turning away to face the opposite side of the room.
"Er- I mean, wait, that wasn't a rejection... " He scoots closer, careful not to touch you. You turn yourself, so you are looking at him again. He looks down at you with a nervous expression. "So if I were to, hypothetically speaking, encircle my arms around your form, you wouldn't object?"
For some reason, your heart skips a beat at the thought of his arms around you.
"Well," you respond playfully. "I would probably say something along the lines of 'thank you very much Gale, goodnight'."
He hesitates for a moment before finally inching closer, his arm hovering uncertainly in the air. With a deep breath, he takes the plunge and wraps his arm around you, pulling you gently against his chest. You let out a surprised gasp, not expecting him to actually cuddle you, but the warmth and comfort that radiate from him are welcome in the cold room. You nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear and inhaling the intoxicating combination of an old book's musty pages and his rich cologne, laced with a subtle hint of sweat. You wrap your arms tighter around his soft body, savoring the feeling of being held in his strong embrace.
"Thank you, Gale" you whisper, intertwining your fingers behind his back. "Goodnight."
As the exhaustion of your journey settles over you, you feel the familiar pull of sleep in your body. However, the moment is disturbed by the feeling of something hard poking your stomach. Your eyes snap open and meet Gale's, who stands there frozen with shock and embarrassment.
"I... I'm sorry," he stammers out, mortified. "I didn't mean for that to happen. It's just been so long and you are so close and..."
Your bodies are still pressend, and you try to make sense of everything. Finally, you laugh softly and pat his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Gale. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." you say reassuringly, though you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.
"But... but I didn't mean for this to happen," he repeats, still clearly flustered.
"It's natural," you say calmly, trying to put him at ease. "It happens sometimes when people get close like this."
Gale nods slowly, still looking a little uncertain. He shifts slightly so that the bulge isn't pressing against your body as much anymore. "Thank you for understanding," he says quietly. Your heart swells with affection as you watch him; there is something endearing about his vulnerability in this moment. You have an overwhelming urge to pull him close, to shield him from any harm and take care of him.
A twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience as you watch the flush rise in his cheeks, a direct result of your teasing. You chew on your lip for a moment before an idea strikes you. "Do you... want me to lend a hand?" You offer tentatively, gazing up at him with soft eyes and a gentle tone. His big brown orbs widen in surprise at your unexpected offer. You are also taken aback by your own words, but don't take them back.
He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. You can see the struggle in his expression as he tries to process what you just said.
"I mean, it's completely up to you," you quickly add, not wanting to pressure him into anything. "I just thought maybe it would help alleviate some of your... discomfort."
He takes a deep breath and looks away from you, clearly embarrassed. Gale hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay," his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart races at his acceptance. You were not expecting him to actually agree to your offer, but you are weirdly glad he did. "Okay," you repeat softly, moving your hand down to his waist and pulling him closer. You slowly reach down between both your bodies, gently taking hold of his erection through his pants. Gale gasps softly as your fingers brush against him, sending shivers down his spine. You can feel his breath hitch in anticipation as you start to move your hand up and down. As you gaze up at him, his arms still holding your body, a deep stirring awakens within you. The wizard before you, with his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, is more attractive than you had ever realized. His tanned skin is like velvet against your fingertips, and his long hair falls over his face in gentle waves. Each reaction to your caress, every soft moan that escapes his lips, only adds fuel to the fire growing inside of you. Looking so eager for your touch.
Without hesitation, you lean forward and capture his lips in a gentle kiss. To your surprise, he responds enthusiastically, his hands moving to rest on your face as he pulls you closer to him. You deepen the kiss, your heart racing at the feeling of his warm lips against yours and the subtle tickle of his beard on your cheeks. As you continue to kiss, your hands never stops the gentle strokes on his erection. Gale's moans are becoming louder and more urgent. You can feel his need growing as he grinds against your hand, seeking more friction.
"L-let me touch you" he says between ragged breaths.
You smile at him, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the effect you're having.
"I have a better idea," you say softly, moving your hand away from his erection. You take off your panties, and move on your side in front of him again. Gale lets out a small gasp as you straddle him, feeling the heat of his arousal pressed against your bare thighs.
"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice thick with both curiosity and lust.
A mischievous grin plays on your lips. "I'm going to give you something even better than my hand to relieve yourself," you purr, swaying your hips in demonstration in a slow, enticing rhythm, that elicits a delicious friction between his cock and the warm heat of your thighs and cunt.
You take one of his hands and guide it to your breast, letting him feel its softness and moaning quietly at the touch. Gale's eyes widen in surprise, gently squeezing it but with his eyes fixed on yours.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers, reaching up to touch your face with his free hand.
"Thank you, so are you," you reply, leaning down to capture his lips in another tender kiss. He seems to find your praise very arousing, as his breathing quickens and he thrusts his hips upward, seeking more contact with your body. In response, you arch your back and press your chest against him, savoring the feel of his erection against your core and thighs.
"I want you so much," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I've been dreaming of this moment for so long but I never- I didn’t think-“ he gasps at a particularly good thrust.
You're not sure how to answer, so instead you keep whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "You're an amazing kisser, Gale," you say, "you touch me so good..."
He moans in your mouth, gripping your hips harder as he keeps pounding erratically. Your hands move to his hair, pulling from the strands and eliciting a small whine from his throat. You can feel the hardness of his erection brushing against your wet folds with every movement, and it sends shivers of pleasure down your spine. You let out a moan into his lips as his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing small circles that send sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Feeling his arousal growing even more, you know he won't last much longer, so you move your hips in a faster rhythm, grinding against his cock with more urgency.
Gale lets out a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he matches your movements. The friction between your bodies is almost unbearable, but in the most delicious way possible. As you continue to move together, your breaths growing heavier and more ragged, you can feel the familiar sensation of your orgasm building within you too. Gale seems to be close as well, as he begins to thrust deeper and harder into your thighs, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. You can hear the slap of skin and the squelching sound of your now wet thighs.
"Oh, gods," he gasps out, feeling himself getting closer and closer to the edge. "I'm gonna..."
His body suddenly tenses up as he comes undone, his hips bucking wildly as he spills himself into the soft skin. For several moments, Gale lies there panting and gasping for breath.
"Oh, gods," he gasps out. "That was...amazing."
You lean and press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling at him as you do.
"I'm glad it brought you pleasure," you whisper softly, running your fingers through his hair.
Suddenly, his skilled fingers find their way back to your core. He seems to sense that you didn't reach climax with him earlier and now he's determined to make sure you do. His touch is intense as he circles and rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You let out a moan, arching your back and grinding against his hand. He watches you with intense desire in his eyes as he continues to pleasure you.
"Gods, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust. "I am not going to be able to forget this."
His words only fuel your desire even more, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge once again. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you ride the waves of pleasure, your hips moving in sync with his fingers.
"I want to make you feel good," Gale says breathlessly, kissing along your neck and collarbone. "Tell me what feels good."
You guide his hand lower, signaling for him to enter you with his fingers. He complies eagerly, sliding two fingers inside of you and curling them just right to hit that perfect spot. You cry out in pleasure, your walls clenching around him. You know you are not going to last long, still sensitive from the previous ministrations.
"Thank the heavens and hells," Gale groans, looking at me like I am a work of art. Setting a steady pace with his fingers, he kisses down your chest and takes one nipple into his mouth. The combination of sensations has you teetering on the edge once again.
"I-I'm close," you manage to say between gasps.
"Come for me," Gale whispers against your skin, increasing the speed and pressure of his movements.
With a final thrust of his fingers and a flick of his tongue against your hardened nipple, you come undone in a powerful climax that leaves you panting and shaking in Gale's arms. He holds onto you tightly as he continues to pleasure you through the aftershocks.
"That was incredible," he murmurs against your skin as he peppers kisses all over your face.
"Yes it was," you reply dreamily, still basking in the afterglow.
Gale pulls out from between your thighs and settles down next to you, his strong arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. As you press your body closer to his, you feel a subtle shift, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you. Instead of voicing it out loud, you turn to him and whisper,
"Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight"
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pottersmiracle · 4 months
Text
Studying
Harry Potter x Fem! Reader
warnings: fluff-harry crushing on reader-use of y/n-added in that every student has their own dorm-first kiss 🙈
summary: harry never seems to focus when he studies, until now.
a/n: kinda long but swet <3
Masterlist
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Harry was sitting in the library as he studied for their upcoming potion's quiz for Professor Snape's class. Harry was growing bored by the minute, every time Harry tried to doze off Hermione would notice and snap her fingers in his face or hit him with her wand. Which hurt quite a bit, and he definitely didn't want that again. But, he also just felt like he couldn't focus. He kept drowning out Ron and Hermione's constant bickering.
"Hermione can he please just take one break?" Ron pleaded noticing how tired he was. “Just watching him doze off is making me tired.”
“No Ronald! Do you really want him to fail another potions quiz and have Snape pressuring him even more? If you think he’s tired now i’d like to see him after that.” Hermione mumbled the last bit.
“She’s right Ron. I just.. need to find something to focus on so i can stay awake.” Harry said making Ron roll his eyes, “she’s always right.” Hermione hit him with her book making him groan and apologize.
Harry ignored them again, letting his eyes wander around the library. Then he saw her, y/n, the girl he’s been crushing on since their first year. They were best friends but he wanted to be more, so much more.
She noticed him almost immediately and smiled at him, he hoped she didnt notice the slight red hue on his cheeks as he smiled back at her. She said something to her friends and started walking over to him, making him instantly sit up straight.
“Hey Harry.” She said walking up with a smile. “Hey, uh, how are you?” He asked swallowing his nerves. “Better now that i’m talking to you.” She said with a smile. Now his blushing had to be noticeable after that.
He laughed and Hermione cut in, “thank goodness you’re here. You’re great at potions aren’t you? I’ve heard you in class you’re brilliant.” Y/n was taken aback at Hermione calling her a genius, Hermione was known as one of the smartest wizards of her age by most of the teachers after all.
“I’m certainly not a genius but i am fairly good at potions yes.” She answered. “Great. Could you try getting Harry to focus? Trying to get him to actually learn something is incredibly difficult.” She complained as Harry looked honestly offended.
“I can surely try.” She said laughing at Hermione’s comment. Hermione scooted over so y/n could sit across from Harry. Harry was certainly focused now and they hadn’t even started studying yet. This should be fun.
——
It had been almost an hour since y/n had sat down and started studying with Harry and Harry had already learned more from her then he had from Snape in the past 4 years. Hermione and Ron had certainly noticed that Harry was listening the whole time, and getting questions y/n asked him right.
“Students, it is now time to go back to your dormitories, the library is closed.” Professor McGonagall announced walking into the library. Y/n looked at Harry, “wanna continue this in my dorm? We only have one other chapter to go in this lesson if you’d like to finish it up.”
Harry wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t gonna say no to this. Not only was he actually learning something but he was just getting closer and closer to the girl he was in love with. “Yeah absolutely.” Harry responded. Y/n gathered the books as Harry looked at Hermione and Ron, Hermione was rolling her eyes and shaking her head with a smile, Rom subtly elbowed him and smirked at him.
“I’ll see you both tomorrow morning at breakfast yeah?” Harry said. “Yeah we’ll see you both tomorrow. Goodnight y/n!” Hermione said, waving to y/n who was putting away the books they didn’t need. “Night you two!” She responded waving back before handing Neville a book he had been waiting to read after they were finished.
——
They were in her dorm on her bed sitting across from each other. They had finished the book and was now just talking. About class, quidditch, family, anything they could think of. Harry was loving every second of it, he didn’t know that y/n was too.
As she closed the textbook to put it away, a charged tension lingered in the room. Their eyes met, and he couldn't help but stutter, "You know, this studying thing was... surprisingly enjoyable." She smirked, replying with a teasing tone, "Yeah, who knew potions could be so thrilling?" In the hushed atmosphere, their lips finally met, setting off a bomb of emotions that had been building with every exchanged glance and stolen touch during their study sessions.
After their lips parted, a gentle silence enveloped them. He chuckled nervously, breaking the quiet, "Well, that wasn't exactly studying was it." She blushed, "No, but I'd say it was more interesting." They shared a lighthearted laugh, the awkwardness fading into a newfound comfort.
He gently grabbed her hand, holding it in his as she rested her head on his shoulder, both smiling and laughing with each other.
It was perfect.
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galedekarios · 4 months
Text
gale's early access dialogue transcripts - part 2 b: the loss scene
in early access, gale had two additional major scenes in act i: the deer stew scene and the loss scene, both of which would happen during a long rest at camp.
the scenes in early access usually happened in this order:
-1: first night long rest scene (still in the final game) -2: mirror image scene (still in the final game) -3: deer stew scene (cut content / partially reused in act i) -4: weave scene (still in the final game) -5: loss scene (cut content) -6: tiefling party scene (ea version cut / partially reused in act ii last night alive scene)
you can watch the entire scene here. below you'll find the transcript of the scene itself as well as some additional info / context.
the loss scene revealed more about gale's life before the game, his abilities as a chosen of mystra and as an archwizard, as well as his status and his relationship with mystra. sadly, it was cut and only seems to have survived as (as of now) obsolete code:
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at a long rest, gale would have a ! and stand by the fire, trying and failing to cast a spell:
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Gale: [Fails to cast a spell] Gale: Khat-Tsjin Deth-Thra! Protag: [Wizard]: That was a failed spell if ever I heard one.  Gale: Failure. You'd think I'd be used to it by now. It’s getting late. I think I'll turn in. Perhaps some sleep will do me good. - Protag [Option 1]: You don't sound very happy there, Gale. Gale: Happiness is like a stray cat; sometimes it seeks you out, sometimes it ignores you. Tonight, I'm ignored. It's getting late. I think I'll turn in. Perhaps some sleep will do me good. - Protag [Option 2]: Is something wrong? Gale: Let's just say not all is right. But that goes for all of us. - Protag [Option 3]: Do you mind? I’d like some peace and quiet Gale: Quiet you can have – peace I can’t guarantee. Especially not peace of mind.
Protag [Wizard]: I didn't recognize your hand gestures. What spell were you trying to cast? Gale: A bygone spell from a bygone age. It doesn't matter. - Protag [Option 1]: They say you should never go to bed angry Gale: Isn’t that advice for couples? The only one I’m angry with is myself. Please – just let it rest. - Protag [Option 2]: Ever the mystery man, aren’t you? Gale: I simply have a lot on my mind. - Protag [Option 3]: Suit yourself. Goodnight. Gale: Goodnight.
Protag [Option 1]: [if Protag intiated Gale's romance during the Weave scene] Come, you know I care about you. I showed you when we shared that spell. Gale: So you did. Very well. -> See below - Protag [Option 2]: [Insight] We shared the Weave the other night. Now share what's on your mind.    Gale: [Failure] Tonight's not a night for sharing. Tonight's a night for regrets. With that I bid you an evening better than my own.  Gale: [Success] -> See below - Protag [Option 1]: [Persuasion] I’m the leader of this party. I need to know what’s going on. Gale: [Success]: Very well. Just now, I was trying to cast a spell I once cast with ease, but I failed. You see, this fire – there was a time that I could make it come alive. That it would take the shape of a dragon and roar in delight. There was a time I could silence a Beholder with a word, and lift a tower from its foundations with a flourish. There was a time I was all but one with the Weave. But no more – a mere shadow of the wizard I used to be. Why? Because I’ve lost. Gale [Failure] You're the leader and I will follow you where you go, not down the path of my own regrets. With that I bid you good night. - Protag [Option 2]: [Intimidation] You will tell me, and you’ll tell me now. Gale: [Failure] I said ‘please’, but that courtesy was a mere formality. What I meant was; you will let it rest. With that I bid you an evening better than my own.  Gale: [Success]: Very well. -> See above
Protag [Option 1]: I don’t understand. What is it that you’ve lost? Gale: I’ve lost… - Protag [Option 2]: Who are you? Gale: I am the man who came after – after having lost... - Protag [Option 3]: If this is meant to be suspenseful, I assure you it’s not. Gale: You don’t understand! I’ve lost… - Protag [Option 4]: It’s all right, you don’t have to tell me. Gale: Thank you. You’re a good friend. I want you to know that  - Protag [Option 5]: [Persuasion]: You can tell me. You can trust me. Gale [Failure]: Trust is not the issue. The issue is that the truth doesn’t matter. Secret or revealed, the outcome is the same.  Gale [Success]: I’ve lost Mystra. I sought to impress her personally. To turn the eye of my muse upon me. To win the favour of a goddess. But I failed, and all I invoked was death and dismissal. My death. Her dismissal. - Protag [Option 6]: [Insight] Go on. Every burden is easier to carry when shared. Gale [Failure]: I’m strong enough. I’ll carry on alone. With that I bid you an evening better than my own. (Die/Dice Roll Fail) Gale: [Sucess] An apt enough observation.  I've... lost... Mystra. I sought to impress her personally. - Protag [Cleric of Mystra]: I'm sorry. I cannot begin to understand being abandoned by the goddess. Gale: Thank you. You're a good friend. I often think of that moment we shared- - Protag [Cleric of Mystra]: When devotion is blind, the goddess loses sight of you. Rightly too. Gale: You pray to the goddess for every spell and every blessing. You devote your life to her – are we truly so different? Then again, if that is how you judge me, there’s little I can do to change your mind. But know that I have this ambition still. First to save myself, and after that, the licence to dream.
Protag [Option 1]: I’m sorry for you. Protag [Option 2]: I don't know what to make of what you've told me, but I sympathise. Gale: Thank you. You’re a good friend.  Gale: [Weave scene wasn't romantic] I want you to know that. I consider myself very lucky to have found you. -> Protag can initiate alternate romance route here -> See below - Gale: [Weave scene was romantic] I often think of that moment we shared together – one under the Weave. I hope you think about it too. / I'm glad to know you think about it too. [end] - Protag [Option 3]: Another fool pays for his arrogance. A tale as old as time. Gale: Arrogance? Ambition, rather. And ambition is a fine thing – until suddenly it no longer is. Then again, if that is how you judge me, there’s little I can do to change your mind. But know that I have this ambition still. First to save myself, and after that, the licence to dream. [end]
the loss scene also offered another way to initiate gale's romance:
Narrator: *You sense a moment of unspoken affection. You want to know where it may lead.*  Gale: I consider myself very lucky to have found you. Protag [Option 1]: I think perhaps we could be more than friends. Gale: Perhaps. - Protag [Option 2]: I consider myself lucky too Gale: Good. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding. / And try not to think too poorly of me. A cat can look at a king. A wizard can look at a goddess.  - Protag [Option 3]: Don’t get carried away imagining feelings that aren’t there. Gale: I see. Say no more. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding. - Protag [Option 4]: You are a good friend too, Gale. Gale: Hold on to that thought. I may just have to remind you before all is said and done. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding. - Protag [Option 5]: Lets not get sentimental, shall we? Gale: Fair enough. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding.
after the loss scene ended, the player-initiated dialogue had several options following it: you were able to initiate the romance on gale's perhaps, you could address the fact that he mentioned that he thinks about the weave scene with the player still, and lastly, you were able to ask how he can still cast if he had lost mystra's favour so.
if you picked the "I think perhaps we could be more than friends." option during the loss scene, you could talk about what exactly he meant with gale after by intiating a conversation with him again:
Protag: When I said we could be more than friends, you answered 'perhaps.' What does that really mean? Gale: If I recall correctly, the Waterdhavian Dictionary of the Common Tongue of Faerun defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'. Sorry, sometimes I can't help but being quite insufferable. Gale: In seriousness, I’m glad you asked that question. Gale: You see, I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes we embrace. You are on such event, that soon, I would like to embrace.
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you could also follow up with him on the mention of him thinking about the weave scene still:
Protag: You said you think about the moment we shared under the weave. Do you think about it often? Gale: Do you? - Protag [Option 1]: Yes. Gale: So do I. You see. I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. You're one such event that one day soon perhaps I'd like to embrace.  - Protag [Option 2]: From time to time.  Gale: So do I. You see. I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. You're one such event that one day soon perhaps I'd like to embrace.  - Protag [Option 3]: Not really. Gale: And yet you ask. I do, as a matter of fact.
the follow up for the loss scene would also include this dialogue:
Protag: There's one thing, I don't understand. If Mystra abandoned you, how can you still cast magic? Gale: The Weave is still here. All around us. Inside of us, too. As long as the goddess lives, magic is still a tangible thing for those who know how to touch. I've studied magic for many years and in as many ways, I'm still a more than capable wizard. Gale: It's just that I'm no longer able to perform those feats even archwizards would marvel at. To have one hand at the pulse of divinity. You have to remember that the Weave is a living thing. Both the embodiment and the extension of Mystra herself. Gale: She can give and she can take away. I'm afraid I'm still very much on her naughty list.
anyhow, this wraps the loss scene up.
overall, i'm extremely sad this was cut. i think with minor adjustments this scene would have worked not only to combat the scene disparity amongst the companions, but it also would have fleshed out gale's backstory and character even more!
i hope this was helpful to some of you!
coming up next:
-part 1: the three tadpole dreams -> completed -part 2: major cut scenes: the deer stew scene & the loss scene -> completed -part 3: minor cut scenes: abandoned temple of jergal, failed to save arabella, talking to the paladins of tyr and agreeing to go after karlach, edowin and the tadpole reveal, mayrina giving ethel's wand to her or breaking it, handing astarion over to the gur or defending him, reaching the druid grove, killing lae'zel, reaching the goblin camp & looking for halsin, killing the druids, priestess gut & the brand & the cult of the absolute, dror ragzlin and talking to the dead mind flayer, ogre couple, necromancy of thay, ethel, zhentarim chest, myconid colony -part 4: gale's condition & the way it was treated in early access
taglist: @chainsawmascara, @randomfanner, @tacogoats, @khajiit-necromancer, @gwinharper, @galesenchantedpanties, @swampfaerie, @ardently-queer, @nirraein, @gale-enjoyer, @xiv-wolfram, @kairoswouldnever, @a-psychopathic-dream, @toboldlydammitjim
i thought i'd tag the people i'd seen taking an interest in my original post! if you want to be taken off the taglist, or added, please let me know!
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drabblesandimagines · 13 days
Text
Nettle Soup
Halsin x female reader 5,776 words of fluffy nonsense
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--
It had started as an innocent tickle at the very back of your throat, something you’d barely given more than a moment’s thought to - fair enough due to the fact you had a tadpole squirming around in your skull to contend with. A day or so later, it had graduated from a tickle to an annoying and stubborn irritation which very much demanded attention – wouldn’t shift despite how many times you’d tried.
It would clear, surely, you thought, especially since the curse had lifted from the land and you were on your way towards Baldur’s Gate at last.
Except it didn’t.
If anything, it got worse - like you’d swallowed handfuls of crushed glass, the way it stung with every swallow – accompanied by heavy limbs and growing fatigue, no matter how much sleep you managed. Perhaps that was hardly surprising after the number of fights you’d undertaken recently, not quite as young as you once were. 
Although not comfortable with the hitchhiker in your skull, you were at least confident it wasn’t the first sign of ceremorphosis, though the concern that Lae’zel may try to slit your throat if you voiced any notion of feeling unwell remained, so you kept silent.
You powered on, as you always do.
Gale frowned when you didn’t finish your portion of stew that evening, all sat around the campfire. He prided himself on keeping the party well-fed and anything but clean bowls appeared to be a personal affront to his skill. It wasn’t that you felt nauseous, just a lack of appetite made the quarter you had managed sit too heavy in your stomach.
“Was it not to your liking?” The wizard hovers over your shoulder. “While I’ll admit it is a repeated recipe from a few days ago, you enjoyed it well enough then.”
“No, no, it’s wonderful, Gale.” You smile, trying to appease his anxieties by laying a hand on your stomach. “It’s just filling – I’m stuffed already.”
“I recall you had second helpings.”
Oh, he had you there. Think.
“We had just fought Ketheric Thorn too, quite difference from the day’s leisurely pace.”
“Hm.” His pout remains, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach has been joined by guilt.
“Hardly a repeated recipe, though. I’m sure I noted something different on the palate?”
That did the trick, a wistful smile now gracing his face. “Ah, yes, I did stumble upon some splendid wild garlic that I thought would enhance the flavour profile – how kind of you to notice.”
You nod along, politely, as Gale tells his tale – something about how it elevates the spices - not noticing the wood elf staring at you curiously from across the circle.
You’re thankful it’s not your turn to keep watch as the githyanki takes her place in the centre of the camp, sword laying ready in her lap. You don’t wish to dawdle around the campfire like you do most nights, worried she might sense something off about you and jump to conclusions, so you bid the remaining members of the party goodnight and walk at a brisk pace to the safety of your tent…
..only for an icy cold grip around your elbow to jerk you into their own, your back now pressed against a firm chest with a thud.
“Surprised, darling?” Astarion murmurs into your crown, his other arm wrapped around your waist. “I thought you better than that. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“Bed.” You reply as brightly as possible, overcompensating for how rotten you’re now feeling.
“Oh, but the evening is still so young! I have a fine idea that will while away the hours, if you would be so very kind.” He drops his grip on your elbow and ghosts his hand up your side, making you squirm.
“Not tonight, Astarion.” You shake your head. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him feed off you after that first night. “I’m tired.”
“I can wait until you’re asleep, my sweet.” His hand finally reaches the back of your neck, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’ll be sure not to disturb any of your pretty dreams.”
“No.” Your tone is firm, maybe a little too firm as the vampire stiffens against you and drops his hand, causing your stomach to squirm with guilt once again. “Another night, I’m all yours – I promise.”
Astarion spins you around and you nearly lose your footing – a fact not missed by the vampire as his face transforms from annoyance at your denial to mild concern.
“My, you are out of sorts.” He sighs, before he plasters on a smile that you know to be fake. “Very well, darling. Off to bed you pop.”
You nod a thanks and hurry out of his tent, casting your eyes to the ground in the hopes of keeping steadier footing, only to collide into something firm.
A large, solid chest, covered in familiar druidic garb.
“My sincere apologies,” two warm hands grasp your upper arms, steadying you once again. “I am afraid I did not see you there. Are you all right?”
Your scalp tingles from the gravelly tones of Halsin’s voice, a warmth flushing over your cheeks as you look up at the former archdruid, his brow furrowed in concern.
“I’m fine, Halsin. And I should be the one apologizing - I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”
He chuckles at your concern. “Of course. Although you have remained polite by not yet mentioning my stature, I am sure you have noticed the comparison between us, little one.”
Although one to lose your temper with the use of such pet names in inns or in combat, there is something entirely different when Halsin says it. You know it is not meant to be patronizing, more a sign of his age, really – it’s wholeheartedly sincere, affectionate, perhaps even… loving? Well, you could still dream, couldn’t you? Even though he’d kindly turned you down at the celebration for the tieflings at camp all those weeks ago, you’d be a liar if you didn’t still kindle a flame of affection for the large elf. You smile, wryly. “I suppose I have.”
“Forgive me for prying, but is anything the matter? You seemed in quite the hurry after supper. I confess I’d hoped to catch you for a moment.”
Your throat stings again as you swallow. Halsin is a healer - he would be the one to mention it to…
But you don’t want to be a bother, especially so soon after Thaniel. What was a sore throat in comparison to being trapped within the Shadowrealm for near on a century? Pathetic, really.
You shrug it off, “A little tired, nothing an early night won’t sort. What did you wish to speak about?”
He smiles at your response, though you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. You wish you weren’t so observant of him to be able to identify which are real and which are polite.
“Ah, no, nothing of urgency. Please, do not let me keep you from your well-deserved rest any longer.”
You eye your tent in the distance, but hesitate all the same. “Are you sure?”
“Quite.” He squeezes your upper arms, gently, before letting go. “I bid you sweet dreams and a peaceful sleep.”
--
You don’t even fall asleep deeply enough to dream – tossing and turning for hours, one moment feeling too hot and then another too cold, periodically drinking from your waterskin trying to ease the rawness of your throat.
You give up at dawn, quickly dressing in your armor. Instead of waiting for your companions to rise, you set your sight on climbing the hill not far off from camp - it should provide a good vista of the road ahead to Baldur’s Gate. It shouldn’t be a long walk either, you’ll be there and back before even Karlach has roused, usually the last to do so.
You had only made it a quarter of the way up the admittedly gentle incline when you start to feel unusually winded from the exercise – it feels as if you are not quite breathing deep enough, oxygen stagnating at the top of your lungs. Perhaps you’d laced your armour too tight that morning in your haste to get moving? The sun is still only a little over the horizon, given the earliness of the hour, but you feel so very warm, a sheen of sweat already on your brow.
You raise a weary hand to wipe it away, but your vision swims in response and you stumble, all reflexes abandoning you and your face meets the dirt.
--
Halsin lets out a sigh as he rubs his back against the bark in his bear form, the ridges appeasing an itch that had been bothering him since he had wildshaped. It has been a while since he’d indulged the bear for purely pleasure and not combat – it hadn’t felt right to do so when traveling through the shadow cursed lands.
He’d woken early, as usual, and decided to take advantage of an hour or so to patrol the area before the plan would be to head towards Baldur’s Gate. Heading to the city wasn’t something he was looking forward to – to be cut off from the nature he so adored made he feel uneasy - but he’d made a vow that he intended to keep.
A familiar, invigorating smell crosses his snout, carried in the gentle breeze. He inhales it deeply, being drawn him from his thoughts.
White violet, jasmine, a touch of sandalwood…
You.
It is too strong a scent to have drifted in from camp, which must mean you’re close by. He drops down to all four paws and begins to follow the trail, curious as to what has brought you out so early and, perhaps selfishly, hoping to take advantage of your company.
He doesn’t have to travel far, though, lumbering a hundred or so metres out of the wood that lines the path. His stomach sinks when he sees you sprawled out on your front down the incline, unmoving, eyes open in a blank stare in his direction.
The next thing you were aware of was thundering paws on the earth, a flash of gold and then warm, heavy palms turning you over to face the dawn sky. A very concerned wood elf soon fills your vision, pressing a hand to your cheek as his eyes scan you over, frantically.
“What is it, my heart? Speak to me.” Heart…? The world goes black.
--
You wake up slowly. Your eyelids feel heavy, drifting in and out of consciousness until, finally, you manage to crack both eyes open to find yourself swaddled in unfamiliar furs and blinking up at an equally unfamiliar ceiling.
No, not ceiling, but the inside of a tent and one that is not your own. Various herbs and flowers are hung from the support pole across the top, seemingly set out to dry, dotted between other hand-made trinkets. There’s a scent of wood smoke, flowers, freshly cut grass, and something enticingly sweet...
You sit up in alarm, trying to work out where you are, panic rising in your already tight chest when your eyes meet those of the large wood elf’s, sat only a little way to the side of the bed roll.
“Ah-ah,” Halsin chides with a sympathetic smile, pushing you back down easily with one large palm upon your shoulder. “Please - you must rest.”
“This isn’t my tent.” Your voice is painfully hoarse, but you lay your head back on the pillow in defeat and watch as he tugs the furs back up to under your chin - the brief moment you had been upright a chill had prickled across your skin, almost down to your very bones.
“That is true.” The former archdruid nods, looking a little bashful. “We were camped at quite opposite ends this time round.” Your party did tend to spread the tents out across the ground you used, rather than all cluster together. “I thought it best to bring you here, where I have everything to hand to easily prepare, rather than go to and fro whilst I oversee your recovery.”
“Recov-” You don’t reach the end of the word as a horrendous, wracking cough emerges deep within your chest. You sit up again in panic, hoping it will cease. Halsin assists you with one hand on your arm and an arm around your waist, before he begins to rub large circles on your upper back.
“Easy, little one. Easy. I know it is uncomfortable, but it will pass.” He says, softly. It doesn’t feel like it will – the pain is sharp, a tightness in your chest, a burn in your lungs, heart pounding as you feel more and more breathless with every cough.
Tears burn at your eyes but, true to his word, slowly but surely, it begins to settle, allowing you to catch your breath at last and left feeling exhausted.
The hand leaves your arm then but one remains on your back, keeping you steady, before a waterskin is brought up to your lips. “Take small sips. If you drink too quickly, it might trigger another fit.”
You nod, reaching up a hand to hold over his as he tips the liquid into your mouth. It’s soothing on your raw throat, but only for a brief moment. When he deems you’ve had enough, he pulls the waterskin away, placing it back down to the side of the bedroll before pressing a hand to your forehead, a poorly concealed frown soon gracing his lips.
“You have a fairly high fever.”
“Can’t you…?” You reach out to mimic cure wounds – a spell you’ve seen him and Shadowheart cast many a time - but it seems even your depth perception has abandoned you as you brush up against the wood elf's firm chest, before snatching your hand back and circling your wrist in what you think looks a somewhat magical motion. Halsin lets out a chuckle that makes you feel flush – your temperature varying sporadically by the minute.
“Wounds and other injuries indeed, as can Shadowheart, but I am afraid for such illnesses as this the only treatment is rest for a few days, supplemented by herbal remedies to alleviate symptoms.”
“No,” you shake your head and immediately regret how it makes your vision and head swim. “We must press on - the Absolute are already in the city.”
He looks at you in alarm. “You cannot mean you wish to go and face them? You know I admire your unwavering resolve and strength to do what is right, but at the moment I fear a light breeze would be more than enough to knock you prone.”
“But-”
“No. I cannot allow it.” His tone is firm, a growl at the back of his throat – it reminds you of how he had spoken to Kagha once he’d returned to the grove. "You will rest. Lie down,” he doesn’t even need to push you back this time with a heavy hand, you’ve gone quite limp against the arm that had been supporting you, shrinking back at his tone of voice and nestle back down amongst the furs.
 “Thank you.” Halsin replies, sincerely, the tension dropping both from his shoulders and voice. “I… I apologise for my manner of speaking, but I know of what I speak - you must rest in order to make a full recovery.”
“I’ll try – I promise.”
He looks down at you with a smile before brushing some loose hair from your face and then cupping your cheek with a large palm and calloused fingers. If you’d had more of your wits about you, if you could think clearly, you would’ve noticed the flash of gold in his palm as he cast sleep upon you.
--
You wake up to a hand pressing a damp cold compress against your forehead and your chest feeling tighter than before. You can’t help the wince as you open your eyes, the light smarting despite it being somewhat dim inside the tent. Halsin is sat cross-legged by your side, a frown in place.
“I am sorry to have woken you, but I am afraid your fever has developed.”
“Oh.”
“I have prepared something that will help. Allow me to sit you up.” Somehow, he manages to slip his arm beneath your head and around your shoulders, assisting you upright to lean back against a pile of firm pillows. Once he is satisfied you are settled, he produces a bowl from his side – a waft of steam emitting off the top.
“Here. It has cooled enough to drink.”
“What is it?” Your voice is still awfully hoarse, a raw sting as you talk.
“A staple in every healer’s repertoire - nettle soup. Adept at reducing fevers.”
You take the bowl carefully from his hand, though his follows closely as you guide it up to your mouth lest your grip fail.
You gulp down a mouthful, but it’s absolutely foul upon your tongue, burns your throat as you swallow it down. It feels as if you’ve taken a gulp out of a particularly filthy pond, one thick with algae.
You hold the bowl back out with a shake of your head, hoping he’ll take it. “That’s disgusting.”
Halsin smiles, knowingly – seemingly a complaint he is not all that unfamiliar with hearing. “Whilst I admit the taste is far from what one might call pleasant, it will do you a world of good to drink it.”
You shake your head again, trying to hand it back to him. “I can’t.”
A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Dare I enquire your age again, little one? The children in the grove manage it just fine.”
“I’m not a child,” you pout – too feverish to realise the contradiction of your actions. “And they surely do not.”
“They do…”, he retorts, a wistful smile crosses his lips, “albeit with the promise of something sweet after they’ve rested. Would that suffice?”
“Something… sweet?” Your mind drifts off to somewhere it should not as your eyes drop down to focus on the druid’s mouth.
“Mm. They are quite partial to honeycakes, does that appeal?”
You shake your head, placing the bowl down on the floor between the two of you. Though a fan of sweets, the idea of eating anything at the moment doesn’t entice at all.
“No? Well, perhaps you have something else in mind. I’m sure Baldur’s Gate itself will have something to your tastes.”
“I want a kiss.” You mumble.
He must have misheard. “What was that?”
“A kiss - that’s the sweet thing I want.”
“Ah,” if it wasn’t for the dim light within the tent, you would’ve sworn the druid was blushing. “Now, that’ll be the fever speaking.”
“No.” You gaze up at him, wishing you had the strength to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for the kiss you crave. “It’s not. I’ve wanted one since that night at camp, the celebration with the tieflings. I swear I’ll drink all the nettle soup in Faerun for a kiss.” “Since…” He trails off. “No, I couldn’t, little one.” He shakes his head, truly looking apologetic. “I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Why?”
He cups your cheek in a large palm, a small smile on his lips. “I do not believe you are quite aware of what you are requesting, given your current ailment.”
You purse your lips in thought, trying to seek a compromise. “What about when I’m better, then?”
He removes his hand and nods. “When you are recovered and if you recall this conversation and still desire it, then… yes, you may claim your sweet.” He mumbles towards the end, not quite believing what he was apparently promising. “However, you will still need to drink the nettle soup now.”
“Deal.” You acquiesce, and Halsin picks up the bowl in offering.
It burns as it goes down – all four or five remaining mouthfuls - but you manage the whole bowl.
“Good girl,” the wood elf murmurs with a smile – it makes the discomfort feel worth it for a moment - as he inspects the empty bowl, swapping it out for the waterskin once again.  
“Now, try and sleep some more. By the time you wake, it will have done its work and you’ll be feeling much better.”
You lie back down without protest, closing your eyes. The furs smell like Halsin and you soon drift off back to sleep, a feverish thought of being wrapped up in his arms and the kiss you hoped to claim come morning.
--
Day turns into night and then day once more, the hours passed with numerous bowls of nettle soup that still burn at your throat with every swallow, vegetable broth for more sustenance and countless naps to no improvement. Halsin has been trying to distract himself with whittling, but it is not proving successful – lopping off half of the duck’s beak when you stir momentarily. He’s checked your temperature with the back of his hand too many times to count. There’s a taunting rattle from your lungs between bouts of sharp coughing fits that doesn’t seem to be easing either. The nettle soup should’ve broken your fever at least – he hadn’t encountered one in all his years that it had failed to do so – but you seem to be growing worse by the hour.
He watches as you toss and turn, brushing your hair from your face. You’ve done so much for him – freed him from the goblins, ensured the safety of the Grove and its occupants, defended him whilst he recovered Thaniel, freed a realm from the shadowcurse of beyond a century and yet he cannot return a simple favour by ridding you of a fever?
“Is she sick?”
“Thaniel.” Halsin’s starts at the sudden appearance of the spirit. The boy is knelt besides him, staring down curiously at your slumbering form. “What are you doing here, my friend?”
“Your party hasn’t moved on - I wondered why. Is she sick?”
Thaniel remained as curious as ever, it seemed.
Halsin sighs. “Yes, I am afraid so. The fever and cough proves most stubborn – I fear I am depleting this area’s supply of nettles.”
“Nettles?”
“For the soup – it reduces the fever. Or it should.”
Thaniel frowns, leaning over you and taking a cautious sniff. “But she smells of spolar.”
“Spolar?” The word seems vaguely familiar, though it sparks a sinking, sickening feeling in his stomach.
“It will have been a long time since you’ve had to treat it.” The boy shrugs. “A large purple mushroom, remember? Its spores line the lungs – its growth accelerates if surrounded by nettles.”
“No…” It’s as if a hand is squeezing at his heart. “I don’t recall seeing any on our travels out. It would grow so quickly?”
“Nettles are sturdy enough even for the shadowcurse, so when it was lifted it had probably laid dormant beneath the soil until the time came. How long have you been treating her?”
“Nearly two moons – numerous bowls of nettle soup.” Halsin’s face has drained of all colour. “By Silvanus, I’ll have been nourishing the infection itself.”
“You did not mean to,” Thaniel replied, patting Halsin on his thigh. “Do not fret. Vapours from a wilted Sussur Bloom will clear the lungs when inhaled, suspending any further spread. Then she will just need rest.”
“A wilted…” He gets to his feet, his mind whirring with the next steps. “I must make haste back to the Underdark – I could be there and back by night fall with the aid of sigil circles.”
He hurries out of his tent, finding Gale sat outside of his, camped a stone’s throw away, and a large tome in his lap.
“Halsin,” Gale starts cautiously, setting down his book at the wood elf's urgency. “Is something the matter?”
“Everything.” The druid drops to his knees and empties out his pack – planning to stuff it full of as much Sussur Bloom as he can lay his hands upon. “I made her worse. She’s inhaled the spore of the spolar.”
“The spore of what? And how could you have made her worse?” Gale quirks an eyebrow, trying to keep up. He has never seen the wood elf so flustered. “I don’t understand.”
“Spolar… the spores line the airways. It feeds and thrives upon other vegetation – I’ve been giving her nettle soup. She told me it burnt and I insisted she eat more. And she did, because she trusted me.”
“Oh. Well, you didn’t know-”
“I should’ve known!” Halsin explodes in response, his voice echoing around their encampment. “I need to go to the Underdark, I-” He gets up to his feet and immediately stumbles, catching himself before he could fall. Gale is quick to stand in front of him, hands held up to try in a feeble attempt to stop the wood elf leaving.
“Halsin, when is the last time you rested?”
“It matters not-”
“It very much does.” Gale chides. “Look at you – you are in no fit state to look after yourself, let alone gallivant off to the Underdark.”
“What the hells is going on?” Astarion appears the other side of Gale, drawn out by Halsin’s outburst.  
“I must set this right. I cannot allow her to suffer a moment longer due to my negligence-“
“Okay, I’m sensing there’s a lot more to your feelings here, but allow me to assure you that we all care about her. Allow us to assist you, to aid you in whatever you need in this moment.”
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Astarion almost stomps his foot, never one to be ignored.
Halsin sighs, running a large palm down his face. Gale is right – he is exhausted, unable to enter a state of reverie in the past days in fear of you needing him.
“A Sussur Bloom. I need to retrieve one from the Underdark.”
Gale frowns. “But they don’t work outside the Underdark.“
“Wilted ones, they-"
“Wilted, you say?” Astarion looks at his fingernails for imaginary dirt. “I’ve got a handful in my pack still, I’m sure.”
Halsin sets off running in the direction of the vampire’s tent and his pack, Astarion hot on his heels.
“Now, wait a moment!”
--
Halsin won’t look at you.
You’d woken up, confusingly, back in your own tent two days later to Gale sat by your side and your fever broken. Your voice was still a little hoarse and walking around the camp left you all but winded, but that was meant to pass in another day or two, then the plan was to finally set off towards Baldur’s Gate.
You’d felt bad for holding the party up for so long, but everyone has been rather kind about the delay, doting on you a little more than you’d like.
All but Halsin, really, who stares over your head – not a hard feat given his height, true – but still, it smarts when you cannot catch his eye, especially when it was something you used to achieve so easily. He appears to leave the campsite before dawn and returns for supper, though he moves away from the campfire when you take your place, thanking Gale for the meal before hurrying off.
It’s driving you mad.
Tonight, though, you have a plan. You took supper back to your tent, feigning the need for an early night to your companions and lying in wait for Halsin to depart the camp once more.
You find the elf stood at the very edge of the lake, standing in the shallow waters as it laps to and fro, hands held behind his back.
You approach cautiously, conscious of disturbing a meditation or ritual the ex-archdruid might be partaking in, but it seems he is already acutely aware of your presence.
“There’s a chill in the air tonight.” His voice is firm – you can imagine him using the same tone when he was chairing heated discussions amongst the other druids back at the Emerald Grove. “You should go back to camp and keep warm by the fire at least if you find yourself restless.”
“Halsin,” you choose to ignore him as you wring your hands together and take another step closer. “Have I… offended you in some way?”
“Offended? Never.” Still, he keeps his head turned away from you.
“I apologise sincerely if I said something that upset you whilst I was sick. I’m afraid I don’t recall much of the time in your tent – it’s all a bit of a haze.”
“That’s understandable. You were…” His breath hitches, as if it’s painful to remember. “..quite unwell. But, no, you did not say anything malicious or cruel – it is not in your nature.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
His biceps tense as he brings his arms back in front of him, his shoulders heaving up with a breath before dropping back down as he swings round on his heels. He meets your eyes for a second or two before his gaze moves back above your head, as if something was extremely interesting in the distance.
“There.” A forced smile – it doesn’t reach the wood elf’s eyes by a mile. “Now, will you go back to the camp?”
“No.” You huff, taking a step closer.
“Please. Your lungs are not fully recovered yet and the chill tonight will do you no favours.”
“I’m not going back until you look me in the eyes and tell me what I’ve done to be treated this way.” You stand firm, stubborn.
He sighs, seemingly exasperated at the conversation. “You have not done anything, my h… friend.”
“I must have done something.”
“You are mistaken.”
 “No, I’m not.” You retort back, placing your hands on your hips. “Ever since you healed me, you’ve been-”
“Healed you?” He scoffs, derisively, meeting your eyes at last with a furrowed brow. “Healed you? I did no such thing - I made you worse!”
You stare for a moment, bemused. “What? Worse how?”
“You said the nettle soup was burning your throat, you told me multiple times and I dismissed you saying it for not liking the taste, not of a symptom. Every time I had you drink it, I was giving the infection what it needed to thrive. I was killing you.”
“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t remember that.” And you don’t, everything’s hazy – vague memories of cooling compresses on your head, a supportive arm around your waist as you drank from a waterskin. “Why would I keep drinking it if it hurt?”
“Because,” he takes a shuddering breath, “we made a deal.”
“A deal about what?”
“I beg of you not to make me relive my shame.” Halsin sounds defeated, but you continue to push.
“A deal about what?”
“I… I told you of how the children in the Grove took their medicine under the promise they would receive something sweet when they were better. Honeycakes, candied fruits, the like. You…” His voice grows tight. “You asked for something else sweet.”
You feel your face flush, a hazy, whisp of a memory now becoming crystal clear. “A kiss.”
The wood elf’s shoulders shudder. “I took advantage of your trust in me.”
“Advantage?”
“Of your feverish state.”
“I’m the one who suggested the kiss.”
“And I’m the one who agreed due to my own selfish desires, ignoring what my patient was trying to tell me.”
“No, you thought you were doing the right thing. We all make mistakes, or misinterpret. I’m fine.” You wrap your hand around his forearm as best as you can, trying to tug him forward. “Besides the whole tadpole in my head, of course…”
He smiles, wryly, at your poor joke, though you see tears burn at his eyes. “I just… I cannot stand the thought that I have caused you harm, little one – intentional or otherwise.”
“You haven’t, Halsin.” You place your other hand tentatively on his chest and look up, feeling his heart beat beneath your fingertips. “I am well and, if you were still willing, I’m ready for my sweet.”
He shakes his head. “As much as my heart desires it – and it does - I do not deserve it.”
“Am I not allowed to be the judge of that? And I say a deal is a deal.”
“You… truly wish for it still?”
You stand up on your very tip toes and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, as far as you can reach. “More than ever.”
A firm arm wraps delicately around your waist – cautious of squeezing you too firmly – and heaves you up easily against his firm chest, his other hand cupping your cheek as he captures your lips in a kiss. It is soft and delicate, as if he’s worried you’ll break, but when you lift your hand to tangle in his locks and tug to bring him closer and deepening the kiss, there is no mistaking the growl that emits from his throat when your tongues intertwine.
As soon as you drop your hand from his hair, he retreats too, dropping you back down carefully to the ground, eyes scanning you in concern.
“You’re breathless, my heart.” You feel your cheeks prickle with heat at the term of endearment. “And flush too. Please, I insist you go back and keep warm-"
You cut him off, pressing your fingers against his lips, exhaling breathily. “Two things. One, I’m breathless because of your kiss. Two, I’m flush because of your words - what sort of reaction am I meant to have to you calling me that?”
He lifts his own hand then to hold yours in place so he can kiss the fingertips pressed against his lips, before tugging your hand back down and interlacing your fingers.
“My heart, my love, my sun, my moon, my stars - so many things I wish to call you whilst I lavish you with affection from dusk till dawn, and dawn till dusk… if you’d allow me, that is.”
“Allow?” You smile, “I encourage – heartily.”
It happens too fast to comprehend, a gentle twist of your arm to twirl you in front of him before one arm wraps around the back of your knees and you are swept off your feet, the wood elf commencing large strides back towards the camp.
“Then I insist we return to your tent where you will have as many sweets as you desire.”
“Oh, my tent now, is it?” You tease. “I thought I had to go and stay warm by the fire.”
 “Yes, but, lucky for you,” he smirks, “I am known to run quite hot.”
--
Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x
Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi
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its-not-a-pen · 1 year
Text
[餘知傳] The 2nd Century Warlord (Part 1)
based on the story by @romanceyourdemons
art by @its-not-a-pen
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first day as a second century warlord i have my men tie branches to their horses’ tails to stir up dust and make it look like there’s a lot of us but i forget it just rained so there isn’t any dust and the enemy can clearly see there’s like twenty of us all spread out in a line
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second day as a second century warlord i bribe a bunch of kids to start singing a nursery rhyme i carefully crafted to spread misinformation and further my strategic ends but they change the lyrics to be about poop and the enemy isn’t misdirected at all
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third day as a second century warlord i lure my enemy into a narrow valley and send a team of archers to shoot them from the high ground but there was a feral hog napping on the trail up to the overlook and they couldn’t decide whether to try and shoot it or just go around and by the time the hog woke up and left on its own the enemy had already passed safely below
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fourth day as a second century warlord we attempt to join a battle on the side of the guy we want to ally with but he and the guy he’s fighting have really similar names and it’s finally dusty and i misread the standards and attack the wrong guy. so now we’re stuck with this total loser of a liege lord, because how the fuck do you explain that after a battle?
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fifth day as a second century warlord and some sort of wizard wanders into camp, my loser liege lord wants to execute him for being a wizard but i convince him to let the wizard stay, because i want to do more weather-based strategies and i’m pretty sure having a camp wizard can help with that. after the welcome to the team banquet the wizard steals half the treasury and my liege lord’s wife and leaves
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sixth day as a second century warlord my loser liege lord sends me to reinforce a city he’s taken, but in the confusion of leaving i forgot to take the token that would have gotten us into the city, so my men have to wait outside the city walls for like eight hours while i ride back to get it
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seventh day as a second century warlord and my loser liege lord finally joins me in the city, it turns out he’s actually a pretty cool guy, and he isn’t even that mad at me for letting the wizard steal his wife. i decide to shoot my shot but i’m really nervous and keep on stalling because what if i mess up our relationship and by extension jeopardize the security of my men, and eventually he just says goodnight and goes back to his room, where an assassin is in the process of setting up to kill him
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eighth day as a second century warlord and my loser liege lord tells me to fake defect to his rival warlord, the one i originally wanted to ally with, to find out if he was the one who sent the assassin and why. but my whole way over to the rival warlord i’m worried that this has something to do with the wizard thing or how awkward i made it last night
End of Part 1
This comic was made independently from the creator, I'm just a fan and these are my own interpretations.
Notes under the cut:
the title 餘知傳 [the Story of Yu Zhi], is the styled name of the Second Century Warlord. I translated 餘知 as [plentiful knowledge] since he's defined by a surplus of knowledge but a deficit in luck. It's also great for fish-based puns since it's a homophone. As a nice parallel, Loser Liege Lord's banner is a carp ;))). the art style was inspired by vintage Chinese comics.
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The story is set during the Three Kingdoms period, (220 to 280 AD) natural disasters, infighting and civil unrest had dissolved the previous Han Dynasty, leading to a violent free-for-all. I based the clothes on the previous Eastern Han styles, mainly because there just weren't a lot of contemporary references from the 3K period (and it only lasted like, 60 years). I always strive for historical accuracy, however, the Han Dynasty was over 400 years long and some sources don't do a great job separating out the different fashions, so I apologise for any mistakes that occur.
2. there aren't a ton of drawings on what Han children looked like, but in general ancient kids hairstyles are pretty consistent. 9-15 yo boys had shaved heads with two little top knots, girls had natural hair in braids/buns.
3. the crossbow (back left) makes a cameo, it was associated with Zhuge Liang, famous real-life strategist from the 3K era.
4. the LLL and his wife thank the Warlord, (a noblewoman on a battlefield??? scandalous!). it shows the LLL enjoys the unconventional and the wife is not as timid as she appears. I thought it would be funny to make them look as Background Character (tm) as possible.
5. I based the wizard's design on sages from mythology. (Hey, he's not a total fraud, he invented gunpowder 800 years before the Tang dynasty!) Nice little character moment for the LLL who is shielding his wife.
6. What do soldiers do while they're waiting for 8 hours? (<-from the right) playing knucklebones with pebbles, whittling a little horse, feeding sparrows, gossiping with neighbour, drinking from his gourd, napping. A minor warlord can't afford to keep a professional army so they're most likely conscripted farmers who've had to buy their own weapons and armour, hence why they look so unimpressive.
7. LLL offers the Warlord a bitten peach. Inspired by the legend of Mizi Xia who bit into a delicious peach and gave it to the Emperor so he could taste it was well. "Bitten peach" was a byword for homosexuality in ancient China. I thought it would be SO funny if the LLL was actually smooth af and the Warlord was a like a teenaged girl crushing for the first time. He's desperate to taste that peach but is too timid to reach out >;))) man has zero game. negative game, even. truely the PS4 of homosexuals. RIP to the assassin in the back corner who was forced to watch the most awkward, cringe-fail attempt at flirting in the history of china play out.
8. this is what zero peach does to a mf. UnU
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Draco Malfoy x y/n (Slytherin Reader) one shot
SUMMARY: Draco relentlessly flirts with y/n even if it annoys her.
WARNING: none other than the fact that this is not proof read.
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It was late afternoon after lunch break and Y/n was noting down points on a piece of parchment while professor Prof.Binns went on droning about the 'Medieval Assembly of European Wizards'. Most students find History of Magic to be exasperating but it's mostly because of Prof.Binn's teaching techniques.
Regardless of how boring it may seem, y/n makes it a point to give her 100% in class. She was concentrating so sincerely that she failed to notice a certain platinum haired boy glancing her way every few minutes. As the class went on, Prof. Binns decided to halt the lecture to let the students read and review the material before proceeding further . As she continued to read through her textbook, a charmed paper swan flew over her head and landed right on the page she was reading. She looked up and around to see who levitated it towards her and saw the group of infamous Slytherins laughing- Malfoy, Zabini, Parkinson , Nott, Crabbe and Goyle. She immediately knew it was their doing. Draco was waiting for her to look in his direction and now that she did he winked at her and shouted across the class " go on darling, read it" ; only for his friends to howl and make funny noises. Y/n got irritated so she rolled her eyes at him and grabbed the paper swan to crush it into a paper ball and chuck it at him. Soon the class ended but only after Prof.Binns had given them an essay as homework.
Y/n slung her bag on her shoulder and carried her extra books with her arms & exited the classroom to head to the courtyard since it was her last lecture of the day. Draco immediately followed her out of the class to catch up and annoy her. "Uff, that looks heavy; lemme carry them for you sweetheart" he tries to snatch the books in her arms. Y/n gets irritated " Don't you have somebody else to bother Malfoy?". "Actually, I do but you're far more interesting and also pretty cute to look at" he replies with a grin and tries to snatch her books again. This time y/n stops in her tracks and pulls Draco down by his tie to look into his eyes "Back off Draco". This makes him grin wider and he lets out a whistle while looking her up and down " ooh... feisty". Y/n blushes at the action and immediately releases his tie and walks away while Draco just stands there grinning like a fool in satisfaction.
Later that night y/n entered back in the Slytherin common room after having finished with her dinner and decided to sit on one of the couches near the fireplace. She was reading a magazine that she found on one of the coffee tables when she felt the couch sink beside her and an arm around the back of the sofa where she sat. She immediately recognised who it was just by the smell of expensive cologne. " What do you want now Malfoy?" she said without looking up from the page. "What? Can I not just spend some time trying to make acquaintances with fellow house mates?" he mockingly replied. Y/n decided to ignore him altogether and Draco got the hint but he wasn't satisfied with the interaction just yet, so he started to play with her hair. This made y/n's blood boil and she swatted his hand away and he let out a chortle. "You have nice hair" he said. "Oh why thank you Mr.Malfoy. It's an honour to get complimented by the ferret boy with slimey hair" she replied with a sarcastic smile. Draco pulled a face at this but laughed it off. Y/n shut the magazine and stood up and walked towards the stairs leading to the girl's dormitories when she heard "Goodnight darling!". She turned the corner as she secretly smiled at his antics and yelled back "Goodnight ferret boy!"
..........................................................................................
Thanks for reading! 🤍
Sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors, this is not proof read 😅
Do like, share and comment your thoughts down below 🤔💭
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Want You Back | ateez x reader
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Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader
Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?
Warnings for this chapter: none
Word Count: 1621 words
a/n: thank you, thank you, thank you so much for all the love and support thus far!! 🥺 seeing all my notifs blew my mind and I'm in absolute awe!! it has really given me the motivation and I can't wait to share the next chapters with you! as always, feedback is really appreciated, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! <3 :)
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Chapter 2
Life changed for you, in the best way possible. Your memory from that night was blurred and indistinct but with the help of new friends, you recovered soon after.
At first, when you awoke, you were in what could only be described as the most cosy and homely bed you had ever slept in. It felt like a soft, fluffy cloud and you hadn't had a goodnight's rest like that in a long time. You even remembered the dream you had - it was the first time you and the boys moved in together and spent a week and a half organizing and making it feel like home. However, as you came to, your moment of bliss was cut short when you peeled your eyes open and became aware of the throbbing sensation in your head. It felt like you had run straight into a wall by accident because you weren’t seeing where you were going, and your forehead experienced most of the impact. 
As you tried to zero-in on your surroundings, you suddenly felt a light touch to the top of your head, gently massaging it. In a moment like this, you would immediately jump into defence mode but in the matter of a second, your headache eased. You looked up to see who it was, ready to counterattack if necessary. However, you were met with a welcoming smile, bright as the sun from a blonde hair, dark brown eyes man. 
Chan or Bangchan as he introduced himself, approached you carefully. He didn’t want to alarm you, only deciding to touch your head to ease the pain he knew you were feeling. He moved to sit on the chair a little far from you. 
“How are you feeling?”
“Better, thank you. But…where am I?”
You were in the human realm. When Chan told you this, you almost fell out of your bed. Actually, you did because your response to this new piece of information was screaming what and then proceeding to lose balance and roll off. Chan tried to catch you but you already landed on the floor with a loud thud. While he helped you back into bed and check to see if you were okay, two boys barged in followed by two others. 
In specific order according to Chan reprimanding them, Jisung and Changbin were the ones with the frying pans and Seungmin and Hyunjin were the ones who strolled in nonchalantly. Jisung attempted to explain that he thought Chan was in trouble and didn’t want to leave it to chance. 
Over the next few weeks, you spent a lot of time at Chan’s place with his seven soulmates, all of whom became your closest friends. Chan specifically, became what you could only coin as a best friend, as he was the one you sought out for the most. He was warm and welcoming, and you felt comfortable around him. He teased you constantly, calling himself your knight in shining armour. 
He explained he found you floating on a log barely conscious and wasted no time in bringing you back with him and seeking help for you. In addition, he revealed to you that he and his seven mates were wizards thus how he healed your headache instantly. Since he shared his origins, you thought it was only fair to disclose who you really were. Chan had no different response, his kind nature continuing to flow like a calm stream. He revealed he knew when he saw your tattoo on your arm, but it made no difference to him. Although Jisung was a little apprehensive, he also quickly warmed up to you when you baked a batch of cookies that he could only describe as heavenly and delectable. Minho joked that the best way to befriend Jisung is through his stomach. And it worked. 
As you saw the way they cared for another and their domestic nature with light-hearted jokes, your heart broke in two because it reminded you of your soulmates. You wondered a lot about your eight boys.
 Did they care where you were?
Were they looking for you?
Chan noticed the way you watched out the window in the late evening, lost in thought. Unbeknownst to you, Chan witnessed your sleepless nights. He sensed your discomfort and so, he would weave a shimmering of stars thereby, allowing you to calm down and dream pleasant dreams that were close to your heart - just like the one you had before you awoke. He couldn’t read your expression and he refused to use any magic to read your mind. Honestly, he didn't want to pry but at the same time, he wanted to help more than anything because he saw himself in you. 
He chose to wait until you were ready to tell him. And finally you did. 
“I have eight mates,” you began, “But I’m not sure if they love me anymore.”
The both of you sat at the quaint table setup in the balcony (courtesy Hyunjin) one afternoon as the sun set on the horizon and the sky became an orange and red hue with the breeze blowing briskly, and the indistinct yet busy chatter of the city below you. You held a warm cup of tea in hand and a soft and silky fleece covered you. You recounted your story and how lost you were feeling. 
And then he told you his.
“At the age of 11, every wizard in training is expected to take a national test that would determine where they will go in terms of schooling. The Academy was considered "prestigious" for the wizards who learnt quickly while the College was for those who didn’t, to put it mildly. When I ended up at the Academy, my parents were thrilled. But the pressure from having to be perfect in everything felt like a weight bringing me down. What made it worse was the prejudice that went on inside the Academy. At first, I thought it was what I wanted because it was all I ever knew but then, when I befriended Jisung, who attended the College because he wasn’t the biggest fan of studying, I realized there was so much more to life than what I was being taught. He introduced me to Minho who actually went to the Academy, yet we never met because of the bubble I was living in. Ultimately, it didn’t sit well with my parents. They wanted me to do exactly what they had done and befriend those who were in the same circle. And then after a lot of arguing, I decided that wasn’t the life for me. I wanted to explore more of the world and find out what I liked. So, after I graduated, I moved here with everyone, and opened the bookstore and the apothecary shop. And it was the best decision I made.”
“You weren’t scared?”
“Oh I was, immensely. I can’t tell you the number of times I talked Minho’s ears off about all my doubts. I think he considered feeding me to his cats at one point…” 
You laughed heartily at Chan’s retelling of events; it was the first time you had laughed so authentically.
It amazed you at Chan’s valiant and courageous spirit. Despite his fears, he still went ahead and did what he wanted to do. 
He soothed the doubts in your mind, “It’s never wrong to want something different. Love is more than just a desire we have. It's also about caring for one another. If they truly love you, then they will support you in your dreams just as you have theirs.”
You hadn’t thought of it in that way. 
He asked if you wanted him to open a portal to go back home. You thought about it, but for the first time in a long time, you felt this bubble in your chest of overwhelming possibility. You felt alive and you felt like you could do something — anything. 
So you stayed.
You took a job at Chan's bookstore at first, mainly to start earning money. While assisting Chan, you noticed the way he had a skip in his step every time. Without a doubt, it was distinctly clear that he loves what he does. It left you in awe and admiration. He moved effortlessly attending to customers. Though he noted that not everyone would always be kind, you were more than entranced in doing something similar like him. You would deal with the unkind people as they came.
After saving up enough, you enrolled in a short course at a university with a one-time downpayment. Slowly you found yourself working towards a goal of yours. 
You wanted to start a business like Chan. 
It took a lot of time and effort and you had no idea how Chan and the others were able to do this. You asked Chan if he ever used his magic, he said no, only if necessary but he pursued all of his studies as any human would.
According to him, it would make you feel more accomplished.
And with time, it did. But that was only after you got through the one too many pity parties you had for yourself when things got tough. Luckily, Seungmin, Felix and Jeongin felt the same and joined you, so you weren’t left alone to wallow by yourself. 
With the support from your newfound friends and others you met at university, you began to create a good life for yourself — wherever you were living. Minho said it is a city called Seoul.
Six months later, you opened your café recruiting some of your friends - Jisung, Beomgyu, Yuri and Stella. 
This was the beginning of a whole new life just for you.
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galesleftearring · 5 months
Text
Starry Night
(thank you to @wolf-weave who asked for this and this list of prompts)
Gale x M!Reader Fluff (PG)
One night, stargazing with Gale, you accidentally let slip that you're in love with him.
CW: Mentions of other companions. Alcohol.
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Gale had been talking nonstop about astronomy since your party had found a book of constellations in a chest while exploring. The book, he said, was one he had never heard of before, and he was excited to get back to camp and read through it with his telescope that night. Lae'zel had scoffed at his lack of attention to the road ahead, and Shadowheart had stayed brooding in moody silence as he mused on the stars, but you were enthralled. Any opportunity to listen to Gale talk about his interests was one you would gladly take.
When Lae'zel finally agreed to make camp for the night, Shadowheart dismissed herself to her tent almost immediately. "Goodnight Lae'zel, boys. Don't stay up too late. We'll have an early start tomorrow."
Gale had set up his telescope in a clearing near his tent and was consulting the book when you wandered over.
"Mind if I join you?" you asked, coming up behind him.
Gale turned to grin at you. "Of course," he beamed, "I would be happy to share my findings with you. If you're careful, perhaps I will even let you look through the telescope." His eyes undermined his false sternness, glinting with the ghost of a laugh.
"Well in that case," you pulled a cask of wine and two goblets from the bag you carried.
Gale tutted approval and looked back to the page he had been reading. "Fine wine, clear skies, and good company... Why, I don't know if I've felt this at home since waking up with that blasted parasite." He was quiet, half talking to himself, but your heart skipped a beat. Pouring him a glass, you felt your hands shake. Was he... flirting? Or was he just being friendly?
"I'm glad you enjoy my company," you smiled. "I... I'm excited to learn about the stars."
Gale sat on the ground next to you, keeping a respectful distance as he sipped his wine. He looked so handsome like that--reclining into his elbow, hair slightly disheveled from the day's journey, staring up in profile at the wonder of the night sky. He was completely unreserved in this moment, and you felt as though you were being included in a private moment. This wasn't Gale the wizard, this was Gale the man.
"What do you know about astronomy?" His low voice cut through your thoughts.
You tried to recall what little you knew of the constellations, naming one and pointing to it. Gale shook his head, brow furrowing. "That's not where Amaunator's belt is. Also, it's only viewable during the summer, so it's a bit late in the year. What you're pointing to is one of the Arrows of the Gods. See where the other two are?" His gentle hands repositioned your arm, pointing your finger to the other two lines of stars.
The contact made your heart skip a beat, and you hoped he hadn't noticed your sudden loss of composure as you nodded.
"Is that the only constellation you know? Or were you just unlucky with your first guess?" He moved his hands back to his lap, all scholarly interest.
"Um, yeah, I think that's it."
Ever the teacher, Gale clapped his hands together. "Well! We've lots of ground to cover, but thankfully this book we found has lots of information in it that should pique your interest." He opened the book to the first page this time, and scooted closer to you. "May I?" he gestured to the space between you.
"Of course." You closed the gap yourself, sliding next to him, your arms brushing.
Gale began to read to you from the book, gesturing with his right hand to the stars described, pointing out lines and circles making mythological shapes out of the weave that you could never have seen on your own. Time seemed to slow down and speed up all at the same time: you were transfixed by his voice and desperately aware of how short this evening would be.
Mistaking the look of pending disappointment on your face as one of disinterest, Gale stopped reading. "My apologies, I got a bit verbose there. I'm sorry if I'm boring you, this is just a rather exciting topic to me and I failed to consider that you might not be quite as interested in the minutiae of star mapping as I am."
You shook your head vigorously. "No, no, this is fascinating! I love hearing you read out loud. This is... this is amazing. This night is perfect. You're perfect." Your voice dropped to a whisper, and before you could swallow your words, you heard yourself say the words you had been avoiding for the past month. "I love you."
Silence fell. You could feel Gale's eyes on your face, but couldn't meet his gaze, staring at the grass in embarrassment. Oh gods. You hadn't meant to share that little tidbit. You didn't even know if Gale was interested in men, let alone in you... he only ever spoke of his relationship with his goddess, no past lovers ever mentioned, regardless of gender. You didn't want your blossoming friendship to wither just because you couldn't hold your tongue.
"You... what?" Gale sounded shocked. "You love me?"
You could feel the color drain from your cheeks. It was too late now, you thought, too late to go back and take the words back. Too late to lie. "Yes."
Gale's warm hand tucked under your chin, gently forcing you to turn to his gaze. Your eyes met his, warm and brown and full of hope. "You love me," he said again, searching your face.
You nodded. "Yes, Gale. I've loved you almost since I watched Lae'zel pull you out of that portal. You're... you're..."
Before you could finish, he pulled you in for a soft kiss. His beard was scratchy on your chin, but his lips were plush against yours. It was a chaste kiss, almost over before it began.
"I love you, too," he said simply. "You're... You're very special to me. I wasn't sure if you shared my affection."
This time you were the one who pulled Gale's face close to kiss him, swallowing his doubt as you deepened the kiss and wrapped your arms around him. "Mm, I do, I most definitely do."
The astronomy book lay forgotten at his side as your lips met for the third time.
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justcallmefox89 · 5 months
Text
Firelight
Fluff, inexperienced gith Tav.
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“What on earth are you staring at, my dear?”
Gale starts guiltily at Astarion’s question, nearly dropping his book into the fire.  Astarion follows his line of sight, smirking knowingly when it lands on X’aa’nath.  Gale’s face heats under the elf’s scrutiny.
“I am merely curious about him!  Them!  The pair of them!  The both of them!” Gale stammers defensively.  “It’s a purely academic interest, I assure you.  I read extensively about the githyanki during my time at Blackstaff Academy and to now be traveling with not one, but two, and two so very different githyanki at that.  My mind is fairly brimming with questions I wish to ask.”
Astarion’s face falls.  “How very… scholarly of you.  I’m going to leave now; I fear that if I stay I’ll die of boredom before the tadpole has a proper chance to kill me.”
Gale huffs and rolls his eyes, reading a few more lines of his tome before once again looking up from the yellowed, worn pages and gazing at the young githyanki sorcerer as he prepares for bed.  Unlike the militaristic simplicity of his kin’s sleeping arrangement, X’aa’nath carefully crafts what Gale can only call a ‘nest’, constructed of blankets and spare scraps of soft fabric he’s collected on their journey thus far. 
X’aa’nath’s silver eyes flash in the firelight as he sits back on his heels, surveying his bedding and nodding in satisfaction.  The fire gives his skin -a pale gold-green- a ruddy glow, and sets his snow-colored hair alight.  Gale watches, fascinated, as he undoes the long plait of his hair, and carefully brushes twigs and bits of dirt free of his thick hair, frowning when he encounters a troublesome snarl. 
Something warm curls low in Gale’s stomach when X’aa’nath catches his lower lip between his sharp teeth, gnawing on it in concentration as he meticulously brushes each bit of debris from his hair.  The urge to lean over and run his thumb over that plush lower lip, to feel sharp teeth and the moist warmth of X’aa’nath’s mouth against the calloused skin of his thumb nearly overtakes the wizard.  Gale tips his head back and breathes deeply, pushing the dangerous thought aside.  
*****************************************************************
“The human stares at you, kin.”  Lae’zel drops bonelessly to the ground beside me, tucking her legs beneath her.
I glance quickly over to Gale, then return my attention to my plait, shrugging one shoulder, uncertain what to say to my kin’s observation. 
“Shall I kill him for you?” she asks.  “He’s only a wizard after all, and a human at that.  Even the half-elf has more use.”
“No,” I say slowly.  “If he proves troublesome I shall kill him myself, kin.”
“As you say.”
I watch Lae’zel return to her own tent, still feeling Gale’s eyes on me.  It’s not that the wizard’s stares bother me exactly, but after so many years in solitude with my varsh as my only companion, adjusting to the company of others has been… difficult.  Doubly so when I’ve been forced together with these strangers because we each carry a ghaik parasite. 
And surely it is because of the parasite that my heart races when Gale’s eyes meet mine.  Just as the campfire is the cause of the sudden heat in my cheeks when he offers me a small smile and a murmured goodnight.
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theambivalentagender · 10 months
Text
Valley Echoes Year One
SPRING
The Last Straw (1)
Awkward Introductions (3)
The Stardrop Saloon (1)
I Don't Know You, and I Don't Want To (3)
Meeting the Squad (2)
The Old Mineshaft (1)
I Don't Want Your Garbage (2)
Meeting Marnie/Grapefruit (2)
The Wizard (2)
A Joja Employee Found You Last Night (3)
Egg Painting With Emily (2)
Year One Egg Festival (1)
In the Cans (1)
Thanks, This is Nice (1)
No Matter What You Do, You're Gonna Fail (2)
Year One Flower Dance (3)
Maybe I Can Microwave Myself (1)
SUMMER
Summer Seeds (1)
Stolen Pizza and Dead Roses (5)
Seb the Programmer/Sam the Skater (2)
Apply Water to Hangover (4)
Year One Luau (1)
Emily's Movie Night (2)
A Train of Nightmares (3)
Zeke's Birthday (3)
Fucking Lewis (3)
Visiting the Mullners (3)
Emily's Secret (1)
Zeke and Shane in the Mines (5)
Shane's Mine Rescue (5)
Advice From a Cat and a Lesbian (4)
Year One Moonlight Jellies (2)
FALL
The Wind Took My Hat (1)
Chicken Adoption and the Winter Star Spirit? (3)
No Answers From the Wizard (2)
Clint's Many Problems (3)
Action Girl Abigail (3)
Zeke vs Pepper Poppers (1)
Shane Starts Having New Dreams (1)
Netflix and No Chill (2)
Don't Get Lost in the Woods (2) (TW: Abuse Mention)
Here Goes Nothing (1)
Stardew Valley Fair Year One (4) (TW: Violence)
Consequences (5)
Shane Makes a Decision (1)
WATCH OUT (1)
Cold Turkey (3)
The Accident (2)
A Day in the Life of Sam (1)
In Which Zeke is a Little Upset (1)
Too Small and Stupid (4) (TW: Suicide Mention)
Going to the City for Therapy (3)
Year One Spirit's Eve (3)
Childhood Memories (8)
Shane Chops Wood (1)
WINTER
Snow and Shadows (2)
Relatives in High Places (3)
In Which Abigail is Ignored for Her Guinea Pig (1)
Why Do You Have a Bomb?!? (3)
Gus Doesn't Fuck Around With Drinks (5)
Shane's Back Says Goodnight (3)
The Man With Stardrop Eyes (3)
Year One Ice Festival (6)
Purple Conversation (3)
Emily's Clothing Therapy (4)
Year One Night Market (5)
What is Rasmodius Hiding? (2)
Leah's Problem (2)
The Road Trip (3)
There Was Only One Bed, Said Emily (3)
The Dog Heist (3)
A Talk in the Desert (3)
Oh Shit Ghosts (2)
Zeke the Chicken Whisperer (1)
Year One Feast of the Winter Star (5)
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lirotation · 7 months
Text
I Hail from Silverymoon: The Confession
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Pov my little fanfic: Astarion x Amaara (my wizard Tav). Fellow Tavs gave me feedback on how mean my Astarion was. hahaha. Well, in this part he became pretty pathetic. These stories were drafted during my first playthrough so the mood of it really reflected how I perceived the game. And damn my first playthrough was rough.
_________________________
Astarion's gaze followed Amaara as she bid goodnight to Lae'zel, having finished another evening listening to the fighter reading legends from a githyanki plate. As she walked past his tent, she didn't even glance his way.
Stung, Astarion melted into the shadows and trailed her unseen as she made her rounds about camp. His eyes tracked her every movement - the enthusiastic hug she gave Karlach, the warm smiles exchanged with Shadowheart. She crossed to the far side of camp, placing a gentle hand on Wyll's shoulder as she reported the day's findings to Halsin.
A bitter seed lodged in Astarion's throat as she then approached Gale's tent. Scowling, he watched the two wizards leaned in close and started an intense, hushed conversation. Astarion strained to hear. He made out "dreamscape" and “future” amidst arcane terms beyond his understanding. Amaara's eyes were wide with concern as she confided in the wizard.
She grasped Gale's hand urgently, her obvious distress rousing an unwanted pang of concern in Astarion's chest. What plagued her so? Gale enveloped her hand between both of his, murmuring reassurances. For a moment it seemed Amaara was ready to collapse into his embrace.
Jealousy flared in Astarion. Driven by an impulse he could not name, he stepped out of the shadows, interrupting them.
Amaara whirled around, surprise flashing across her features before shifting to weariness at the sight of him.
Gale raised an eyebrow. "Did you need something?" Though polite, his tone held an edge.
"Just...passing by," Astarion muttered lamely. In truth he had no reason to intrude.
With a resigned sigh, Amaara turned back to Gale. "I should rest. Please do consider what I said." She left them with an inscrutable glance at Astarion.
In the uneasy silence, Astarion swallowed his pride. "How do you do it?" he asked Gale grudgingly. "Get her to...be so at ease around you?"
Astarion's question was met with stony silence. Gale's eyes bored into him, jaw set sternly.
When it was clear Astarion expected a response, Gale let out an irritated sigh. "Why should I help you worm your way back into her good graces?"
Astarion bristled at the hostility. "I merely thought you might...offer some insight," he muttered, "after last time we talked."
"My insight tells me to let you reap the consequences of your vile behavior," Gale snapped.
But seeing Astarion's crestfallen expression, his rigid posture softened slightly.
"However...Amaara would wish me to take the high road." He pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I treat her with the same empathy she offers me - with kindness, respect, and honest counsel." 
Gale's gaze became thoughtful. "Lae'zel gives her the unguarded companionship she shows no one else. Karlach offers easy friendship. Shadowheart provides healing and care." Gesturing around the camp, Gale asked pointedly, "So what do you give in return for her compassion and devotion?"
The question rang in Astarion's mind as Gale left him alone with his thoughts. What could he possibly provide this mage who had treated him with such tenderness and love?
The others gave their best selves to Amaara. But he had offered only manipulation. For the first time, he wondered if becoming someone worthy of care was possible, or if his soul was too poisoned by cruelty. Perhaps if he dared to open himself to sincerity, he might find some fragment of goodness to share. But it would require relinquishing all control. A daunting prospect.
Like a dog rolling over and exposing its soft underbelly in a desperate plea for affection.
And in that moment, he realized that he was willing to do just that. He was willing to roll over and expose his own vulnerabilities, to show the parts of himself that he had kept hidden for so long.
Because he knew, deep down, he would do anything to have her. To have her genuine affection, to be worthy of her care. He wanted to be more than a manipulator, more than a predator. He wanted to be someone who could love and be loved in return.
Astarion mustered the courage to approach Amaara. But this time, his presence didn't elicit the warm smile and adoring gaze that had once been his reward. Instead, he was met with a tension that radiated from her very being. Her stance was poised and alert, legs positioned for stability, fingers flexing almost imperceptibly as if eager to close around the grip of her staff. He could practically hear the gears of her mind turning, calculating, assessing.
It was the battle stance he had stood beside countless times. But now, it seemed directed at him. He had become the source of her wariness.
Astarion's heart sank as he realized the depth of the chasm he created between them. The connection they had once shared had been replaced with caution and defensiveness. He was no longer the recipient of her trust and affection; He is entirely unsure if this could be remedied, but he had to try.
"Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk," Astarion's voice trembled with anxiety, his vulnerability exposed in the slight quiver of his words.
Amaara paused, She could sense the unease radiating from him and couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern. Her posture relaxed as she questioned, "Are you alright?"
A nervous laugh escaped Astarion as he shifted uncomfortably. Bracing himself for what was to come, he began his confession, "Oh yes, I'm fine. I just...feel awful." His gaze met hers, a mixture of apprehension and sincerity. "Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan - seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never oppose me." He chuckled nervously, a self-deprecating edge to his amusement. "It was easy, instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you...which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart."
Before he could gauge her reaction and say more, Amaara's voice cut through, laced with anger and hurt, "That's quite enough!" Her eyes opened wide as she regarded him. "What is this, more of your theatricals? I'm not blind. Last time we were intimate, I sensed your disgust and loathing. I now understand why you see me as your leash, you hated the fact that you couldn't fully control me! Fall for me? Truly?" She shook her head, her frustration evident. "What is it that you wish to accomplish with these lies?"
Astarion’s eye widened. He had been so overconfident in his "skills" that he had completely overlooked how insightful Amaara could be. He scrambled to explain himself, to lay bare his wounds and scars as he had intended. "No, wait, Amaara, let me explain! Being close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back for...him." He paused, his gaze filled with the weight of his past, "Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels...tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. What you perceived as revulsion was truly my own self-hatred."
He closed his eyes, "I don't know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I'd like to."
Amaara's scholarly mind processed this newfound insight. Understanding flickered across her features, followed by a tinge of embarrassment. She had never been adept at the matters of the heart, but honesty had always been a principle she held dear. If she had spoken up, voiced her doubts, this misunderstanding might have been avoided.
But their problem was more than that, wasn't it? She lowered her voice, "So much for my prided intellect - you thoroughly used me from the start. Our late night conversations, those tender words, my first night...none were real. I must have been very entertaining."
Amaara's blunt words hung in the air like a verdict. Panic began to claw at Astarion as he gazed into Amaara's eyes. There were no tears, no fiery anger, just a calm and piercing gaze that seemed to lay bare every deception, every manipulation he had woven into their tangled web of emotions. He’d have preferred for her to shoot another magic missile at his gut.
Astarion knew he had to tread carefully now, choose his words with utmost precision, or risk losing her forever. Instinctively, he turned to his silver tongue, the very tool that had ensnared her heart in the first place. It would be so easy to deny her accusations, to profess his undying love and devotion, but deep down, he understood that if he uttered those words now, she would turn and walk away.
He scrambled for the right words, some way to undo the damage. But without his seductive façade, he was stripped bare. How could he articulate something so unfamiliar as real affection? Romance had only ever been a gambit, passion a parody.
Taking a deep breath, he turned to blunt honesty. "Amaara," he began, his voice softer, stripped of its usual veneer of charm and guile, "I won't insult you by denying the truth. For centuries I was but a means to an end, and I would treat everyone as tools, you included.”
"But the more time we spent together, the more I found myself caring, though I didn't understand it. I was such an idiot. So caught up in familiar habits I couldn't see the truth.”
"I know I don't deserve your trust," he confessed. "But I swear, it stopped being a ruse long ago. What we shared meant everything to me. For centuries I existed only to serve my old master's thirst, and I had nothing to call my own. But then I had you. For the first time, I had something just for myself. Someone who saw me as a person, not a tool or monster. I tried to bend your will in my favor…merely a pathetic way to gain reassurance that you cared about me. The truth is...you terrify me."
Amaara's eyes widened in surprise. "I terrify you?" she asked incredulously. "Why? Have I ever given you cause to fear me?"
Astarion gave a shaky laugh, raking a hand through his hair. "I know, it's madness. The brilliant, compassionate woman who tended my heart with such care somehow became a threat in my mind.” His voice grew fervent. "Because you had such power over me, power to hurt me like no blade ever could. It reminded me of Cazador's control, and it terrified me. The more you gave, the more I cared, the more terrified I became. I handled it wretchedly. The venomous words I spewed your way originated from fear. Fear that you were too good to be true, that the vulnerability I felt around you would be my ruin."
Astarion's voice trembled with emotion. “So I tried to manipulate you, stoke your physical desire to secure your lust, use your body for my own reassurance and gain an illusion of control. I told myself that if I could make you want me carnally, you would never leave."
Astarion's confession left Amaara reeling. She struggled to comprehend the logic behind his words.
"I offered you my heart, yet you treated it like dust," she said, bewildered and hurt. "After everything I did to get through to you, you thought I was no different than Cazador?” The absurdity of this made her realize the extent of the trauma that had corroded Astarion, her tone softened,” My heart saw someone worthy of care, but you chose to see a master to appease. It never occurred to you that I wanted you for you?"
Astarion looked down, the self-loathing in his eyes palpable, "I couldn't fathom why anyone would want me, as I am, for anything but use. And you are not just anyone. You...you're incredible. Why would someone like you care for someone like me? I was certain you'd turn cruel if I lost my grip.”
Amaara folded her arm, “I see. You didn’t trust me. You know, what you are saying is really not helping your case.”
Astarion realized how horrible this all sounded, but it’s the painful truth. He lowered his head, “Trusting another goes against every instinct I have. I betrayed your trust, sneered at the depth of our connection, and inflicted pain upon you out of fear and confusion." His voice trembled with sincerity. "I... I am truly sorry."
He looked up at her eyes again, “I may have started with my usual tricks, and it took forever for me to realize that I can trust you, that what I felt for you was real. But when I finally realized it, you cannot know how profound that was."
As he peered into her steady gaze, he found no immediate forgiveness there, only a quiet understanding. Closing his eyes, his heart sank. Desperation slowly gave way to acceptance. "You cannot know how profound that was." he repeated, voice thick with emotion, "I will always treasure the feeling. It's foolish to think I can win your forgiveness. I suppose it is for the best. I don’t have anything to offer you, only more burden to share."
Despite the complexity of her emotions, Amaara found herself compelled to offer comfort, even if it was just as a friend, as a companion. She spoke gently, her words carrying a sincerity that surprised even her, "I care about you. Deeply."
Astarion's shoulders slumped, her continued rejection weighing heavily on his mind. He was trapped in a cycle of self-doubt and uncertainty. He sensed her response was out of sympathy rather than genuine affection, and he couldn't help but feel dejected. "Really?" he asked, his voice low, as if he couldn't quite fathom that someone might truly care for him.
Amaara looked at his pained expression. Her own anger and frustration faded. Sune preserve her! she could never resist him when he acted like this! How did she get herself into this mess? Sure it hadn't been a meaningful connection from the very start; no, it was something far more superficial. Amaara’s mother was a cleric of Sune, so she was influenced by Sune's teaching at a young age. Astarion's beauty called to be loved. His palpable loneliness begged for companionship. Then there was his undeniable skill in the arts of passion, as if he had been taught by Lady Firehair herself. She was captivated after denying herself such pleasure for years. To her, it was as though their connection was fated, meant to be explored and experienced.
Right at this moment, when the ugly truth of his manipulation had come to light, when he had revealed his deceitful and self-serving nature to the world, any true follower of Sune would have walked away without hesitation. But for Amaara, it was an impossible feat.
Deep within her, a resilient fire burned, a fire inherited from her resolute father who despised fickleness in all its forms. Stubbornly, she clung to the belief that beneath Astarion's cruel façade, beyond the layers of deception, there still existed a lonely, beautiful soul yearning for understanding. Her heart, loyal to a fault, refused to let go. 
Standing in front of Astarion, Amaara knew clearly - it was no longer a matter of doctrine or stubbornness. It had transcended such excuses long ago. She loved him with a depth that defied reason, a love that outshone every flaw and failing.
She recognized that his manipulations stemmed from deep wounds no one should have to endure. She should never judge him by conventional standards.
The scholarly part of Amaara yearned to dive into books on the illness of the hearts, to understand and help heal his scars. But she knew intuitively that Astarion required more than just academic insight - he needed patience, care, and light on his darkest days.
She was weary of burdens already, but she would find strength to bear his too. The horrific future she had glimpsed in her nightmare, where Astarion had lost himself and emerged as a monster, still haunted her. That chilling vision fueled her conviction to guide him down the path of healing, even when he struggled against it.
There would be times she needed respite. Times his volatility left her shaken. But she would return with warmth, not judgment. His faults were not flaws of character, but corrosions of trauma. She hoped to slowly dissolve the hurt that led him astray. 
With emotions overflowing, yet mind resolved, Amaara took a trembling step toward her damaged love.
She sensed the surprise and uncertainty as she embraced him. His arms hesitated before slowly wrapping around her, returning the embrace. They held onto each other, a mixture of comfort and understanding passing between them in that simple touch. He looked down at her, a genuine smile forming on his lips, the tension from before replaced with a sense of ease.
"You are full of surprises," he remarked, his voice filled with fondness. In that embrace, he could feel the familiar warmth of her affection for him, a balm to the doubts that had plagued him.
"Honestly, I have no idea what we are doing. Or what comes next," he confessed, his gaze meeting hers with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. He extended his hand towards her, his palm upturned, a silent invitation. Amaara's hand found its place in his, and he enveloped her hand with both of his own. "But I know this… this is nice," he said softly, his voice carrying a sincerity that resonated deep within both of them.
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ellievickstar · 1 year
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i formerly request a draco fic please 🙋‍♀️
Perfect for Me (Draco x GN!Reader)
Summary: After years of being insecure, maybe you’re both the key each other’s confidence.
A/N: I struggled writing this. I have no clue how Draco would act because I didn’t really pay attention to him in the books. But, I pushed through and I think this is pretty good. But what if the dark lord catches wind of this new…distraction…?
Requested? Well- I think you already know the answer to that- 
Inspired? By my wonderful conversation with @cityofidek 
Warnings: This is my AU so the riddle twins do exist, and Theodore, and Lorenzo. Fluff to angst. Mentions of insecurities, reader not believing she’s good enough, etc. 
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(Gif is not mine) 
~*~*~*~*~
“No, no, PUT ME DOWN ALL OF YOU OR I SWEAR-” Your sentence was cut off as you were thrown into the lake. Swimming up to the surface, you swore at the four boys that were still dry. “I’m wet because of you guys, this was my favourite sweater!” “That’s what she said,” Lorenzo joked as he high-fived Theodore. Draco laughed as he approached the lake to help you out. Mattheo, on the other hand, just smirked as he flipped to the next page of his book. 
It’s been three months since you first met these buffoons. You were a new sixth year student who transferred from a low-profile wizarding school in South-East Asia. Theodore was your childhood best friend from when you first lived in England. Now that your family has moved back, you finally got to go to the famous school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts. 
Once you were out of the pool, Mattheo cast a quick-drying spell and you felt warm in seconds, though the alarming change of your body temperature did concern you slightly. 
“At least pass me a jacket too,” You grumbled. It was then you felt a soft material wrap around your shoulders. You blushed as your eyes met Draco’s warm gray ones. Maybe today wasn’t so terrible. 
~*~*~*~*~
It took forever for you to wash your hair. You kept having the looming feeling of something slimy clinging to your body. Joining your group of friends, you talked Tom’s ear off as you complained about how you were insensitively thrown into the Black Lake. Complaining to Tom was something only you dared to do, anyone else would be scared that he’s cut their tongue off. 
“You know, I could warm you up in my dorm if you really are so cold,” Mattheo winked, chuckling as you flung a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his direction. To your dismay, someone interrupted you before you could retort at the irritating brunette. 
“Shove off,” Draco snapped. You paled as Mattheo’s eyes darkened with rage. You knew that the two boys barely tolerated each other after Draco was ordered to kill the headmaster, but, you’d never seen Mattheo this livid. 
‘Or what?” Mattheo growled as he leaned forward, almost provoking the blonde headed boy. “Or-” “Stop this nonsense, or I’ll tell father that you both require some changes in order to concentrate on your current mission!” Tom finally interfered with their argument. You breathed a sigh of relief as both boys mutter reluctant apologies. 
Though the twins did not tell you much about their father, the whispers in almost every corridor made it clear that they were the sons of the recently emerging Dark Lord, Voldemort — a ridiculous name if you said so yourself. You only knew so much about their father’s plans, you only knew that Harry Potter, the obnoxious wannabe good-two-shoes, will stop him from taking over the wizarding world, other than that you couldn’t quite be bothered to know the facts. 
~*~*~*~*~
You were rushing your potions essay that Slughorn had assigned in the Slytherin common room when the prefects of the group finally got back, Tom and Draco. Tom bid you goodnight before returning to his room, however, Draco lingered behind. As you finally finished the last sentence of your essay, you looked up to see Draco staring at you awkwardly. 
“Have you been there the whole time?” You asked, already knowing the answer. Draco flushed as he nodded. You sat up as you patted the spot beside you, motioning him to sit. He approches you while using two fingers to loosen his tie.  You giggled as you remembered the argument Draco and Tom had about the usefulness of ties. Tom thought that ties made people look tidy and professional while Draco said that the tie was no use and only restricted someone, or in his words, ‘A neck hanging death trap’. 
You rested your head on Draco’s shoulder as you both sat together in a now comforting silence. 
“Dray?” You said as your eyes began to grow heavier. “Yeah?” He replied as he rubbed your back with continued to lull you to sleep. “Don’t tell Theo, but your my best friend,” You smiled as he chuckled. His body vibrated against you as you finally closed your eyes, welcoming sleep with open arms. 
~*~*~*~*~
Click. Click. Click.
“Quiet down! You’ll wake them up!” Someone shushed as the clicking of a camera continued to rouse you from your slumber. You blinked back as you vision was still blurry from sleep. Sitting up, you wiped your eyes as you glanced around the room. Lorenzo and Theodore was standing up straight, hands behind their backs as they flashed you smiles that probably did not look as innocent as they hoped. 
“What time is it…and what are you guys up to?” You asked warily. You glanced down at the pillow you had been leaning against and flushed sas you spotted the messy hair of a particular blonde-headed boy. You looked back at the two trouble makers and spied a camera behind Theodore’s back. 
“Give that to me, Hey!” You yelped as they suddenly took off, you got up and ran after them, hot on their heels. They laughed as they purposely slowed down only to speed up again. “Curse your long legs, no fair!” You pushed yourself to run faster as the made circles around the common room. You were finally able to tackle Theodore when the camera was snatched it of your grasp. You growled, ready to pounce on the next person but paused as you saw Mattheo hold the machinery while scanning through the photos. 
“Is that YN and Draco?” He asked as he showed you the photo he was looking at. “Yes, and they look adorable and I ship it,” Theodore grunted from the ground. Mattheo seemed to grow red as he tossed the camera to Lorenzo. “It will never happen, I’m so much better for her,” He smirked. You cocked your head at his bold statement. “She and Draco are a better pair and you know it!” Theodore argued. “She and Draco is like her and Lorenzo,” Something that would never happen because you were pretty sure Lorenzo liked someone else. 
“‘She’ has a name,” You snapped. “And ‘she’ thinks that she can decide for herself who is a better match. So get your heads out of your asses because she is not a piece of property for you to negotiate about,” You stormed away. Those…those arseholes! How dare they decide what was good for you without even thinking to consult you. You scoffed as you went up to your dorm. 
~*~*~*~*~
The day was duller then usual. With a bad start in the morning, it only got progressively worse. Tom seemed to be in a bad mood so he snapped at you during potions. During charms, you were scolded by professor Flitwick because you just couldn’t get the spell right no matter how many times you tried. Professor Snape in DADA seemed to be particularly moody and you were scolded for the fifth time that day for asking a ‘stupid question’. 
The tipping point was when you received an owl during dinner. It was from your parents. Being Asian, despite the stereotypes, you family was quite laid back on your career options. However, they expected top notch grades from you and anything less would have them lecturing you for a whole holiday and constantly criticising you, telling you that you would be able to do it write if you just worked harder or tried to be more intelligent. You sighed at the thought of your parents and rubbed your temples as you read the letter. 
Dear YN, 
We called the school and we are very disappointed with your performance. How can you be losing to that girl in Gryffindor? You are expected to be the best, and if you do not buckle down by next semester, you can forget about coming home. We expect better from you, missy, and if you do choose to return with such atrocious results, you will face consequences. 
Wishing you well,                                                                                                           Your Parents. 
You tore the letter in half and and tucked it in your pocket. You could not believe them! You were third in your whole cohort and yet they still wanted you to be better!? You weren’t Hermione Jean Granger for Merlin’s sake! Your eyes watered as you poked around the food on your plate. Noticing your distress, none of your friends said anything as they quietened down as to not make you overwhelmed with conversation. 
You thought back to all the times your parents were disappointed with you. Haven’t you given enough? Why couldn’t they, for one second, think of how you felt for a change? You were so tired of giving everything for them to be proud of you, you were tired of working hard just so that you could hear the words that they have never and will never say. But, as you thought about it more, you knew that they were still your parents, and in your culture they could treat you any way they wished and somehow, they still held the right of being your parents. 
You chocked on a sob as you stood, excusing yourself from dinner as you wished to isolate yourself in order to cry in peace.
~*~*~*~*~
“God, I’m pathetic,” I laughed at myself as I looked over the black lake. It had been about an hour since I excused myself from dinner. “Don’t do that, discount your feelings,” A voice suddenly echoed from in front of me. I peered up from where I sat. 
You began to feel more tears coming as a pair of arms wrapped around you curled up frame. You breathed in the familiar smell of green apples as you choked on a sob again. “Let it all out,” He breathed into the top of your head as he held you closer. More tear spilled out as began the waterworks again. 
You eventually lost track of time as you slowly went from sobs to quiet whimpers. Clinging onto his robe, the two of you felt comfort in each other’s presence. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked gently. You shook your head as you pressed closer to him. He hummed as he rubbed circles on your back. Exhausted from the endless tear you had in ally let go after months of suppressing your emotions, you rested your head against Draco’s chest before finally letting sleep take you. 
~*~*~*~*~
You awoke in your own room. 
There was a note on your bedside as a splitting headache made you wince. You read the note and as you did, you swore that your heart skipped a beat. 
Dear YN, 
Should you awake before I return, just know that the Dark Lord has summoned me. I will be back soon, there is a potion to take care of your headache. I know that you get headaches after crying too much, please take the potion and get some more rest. I have explained to the Teachers that you are unwell. Sleep well, my love. 
Draco
P.S Pansy changed you, don’t worry, I didn’t see anything. 
You peered back at the nightstand and indeed, there was a potion. You drank it, almost wanting to throw up at the rancid taste. Lying back down, you played with the edge of your sheets as you thought back to Yesterday. Though it was very blurry, you vaguely remembered the feeling of being lifted from the ground as Draco’s raspy voice kept telling you to go back to sleep. You flushed at the indistinct memory. You began to wonder what this meant for your relationship with Draco. We’re you still just best friends? We’re you more than that? You thoughts traveled back to the note as you remembered the nickname. What did he mean by ‘my love’? You rubbed your temples, confused. 
Maybe you should just wait for him to return. 
he never did. 
~*~*~*~*~
“Where were you yesterday?” You asked Draco as you sat next to him at breakfast. He hadn’t came back to check on you all day and when you had gone to his dorm, but he hadn’t been there. You asked the rest of the group but they all refused to tell you where he had gone and told you that it was best that he explained the situation to you himself. 
“It’s none of your business, YLN,” He spat as he continued to eat. You were taken back by his sudden hostility. He had just been comforting you yesterday, what had changed? You wanted to say more but you were cut off by someone else. 
“What he meant to say,” Tom seethed, “Was that we have decided that you are no longer required or needed to interact with this group,” It took you a few moments to process what he had said. We’re they kicking you off the group? You didn’t understand. “Wha-” “That means that you are a nuisance! Don’t you understand? Stay away!” The rest of the group remained silent as Draco went off on you. 
“Did yesterday mean nothing to you?” You demanded. You didn’t understand as you tried to look Draco in the eyes. You could barely recognise your best friend. You turned to Theodore and Lorenzo as you tried to desperately laugh, “This is a joke, right? Very funny guys,” But no one said anything. They looked at you with that same dull look, that look of pity, sadness. You wanted to feel rage and anger, wanted to yell at all of the, but you couldn’t find the words. You couldn’t find it in you as you got up and left quietly. 
Questions rang in your head as you kept asking yourself, what had you done wrong?
~*~*~*~*~
A/N: And so my lovely readers. This is the end…or is it? Up to you honestly. 
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A collection of Hinny-centric drabbles, microfics and one-shots written for the Ginny Lovers Discord server 5-Year Ginnversary Bingo game.
Chapter 12 - Happily Ever After
Ginny's had a tough couple of days, but her very own Prince Charming is on hand to welcome her home.
Rating - Mature (because Ginny has a foul mouth when she's hungry)
Read on AO3 from the beginning or continue below the cut for the latest chapter (1555 words)
Ginny Potter was tired. Bone tired. She hadn’t exactly been thrilled to be covering the Arrows away fixture against Portree in the depths of the February winter in the first place, but to have it then turn into an eighteen hour feat of endurance where the snitch seemed determined to hide from the relentless sleet and gale force winds really took the biscuit.
Bolstered by warming charm upon warming charm, and what felt like buckets of hot tea, Ginny had powered through. But, by the time she’d finished her post-match interviews (during which more than one of the exhausted players actually fell asleep over the press conference table), she’d already missed two nights of bedtimes, and was at perilous risk of missing a third. 
Being away from Harry and the kids wasn’t something she enjoyed at the best of times, but right now, it felt especially awful. Albus was only a few months into Muggle primary school and seemed to be struggling to adjust; Lily had suddenly morphed from a happy-go-lucky toddler into the world’s most clingy preschooler; and then there was James. James, as usual, seemed perfectly fine, sailing through life in a blaze of noise and chaos without a care in the world. Perversely, that made Ginny worry about him even more. It was always so obvious when something was bothering Albus or Lily that Ginny couldn’t help but worry it would be so easy to overlook it when something was bothering James. 
Ginny was self-aware enough to know that her concerns about James weren’t rooted in reality; they stemmed entirely from an (un)healthy dose of mummy-guilt. How could she, raised in a countryside idyll, by the world’s most capable and present stay-at-home mother, possibly choose to bring up her own family in the middle of a city while pursuing not one but two consecutive careers that involved long stints away from her babies? Not that anyone had ever said that to her, of course. No, Ginny simply imagined that she could hear it in every comment about her professional success, or enquiry about the health of her children. Or maybe she didn’t imagine it at all - the wizarding world could still be extremely conservative on many topics, including that of working mothers.
Sighing, Ginny left the press tent and apparated onto the top step of Grimmauld Place. Inside, the house was quiet, but the warm lamplight and cosy decor that had replaced the unrelenting gloom she remembered from her teens immediately relaxed her. It felt so good to be home - and according to the clock on the wall, she’d made it back just in time to kiss her babies goodnight. 
She hung up her thick winter cloak in the alcove by the door and swapped her boots for a pair of fluffy slippers, then padded up the stairs in search of her family. 
As she reached the first floor landing, she became aware of a low, soothing voice, coming from the drawing room. She adored that voice; deep and calming and so full of love. Moving close to the door, she realised that Harry was reading a story. The door was open, so she leaned against the frame, drinking in the scene inside the room.
Harry was sitting on the sofa facing the fireplace, levitating a large book just in front of him, using his wand to turn the pages. Lily was on his knee, snuggled against his chest, while James and Albus had taken up positions on either side of him, leaning in close and staring at the book’s illustrations in rapt attention. All four of them were underneath an old blanket she recognised as the one that used to adorn her bed back at the Burrow. On the coffee table in front of them were four mugs, bearing the telltale marks of chocolatey lips that indicated hot cocoa all round.
Ginny recognised the book as an anthology of Muggle fairy tales that had been James’s first Christmas gift from Hermione. In truth, Ginny loved these stories as much as the kids, much preferring them to the wizarding tale of her own childhood. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps seeing magic through the eyes of people to whom it was something extraordinary reminded her of just how privileged she really was. 
As spellbound as her children, Ginny listened while her husband recounted the tale.
“...so it happened that the king proclaimed a great ball to be held at the castle. All the young girls in the land were invited, so that his son could select a bride for himself. When the two stepsisters heard, they were in high spirits. 
They called Cinderella, saying, "Comb our hair for us! Lace our ball gowns! Polish our shoes!”
Cinderella obeyed, but wept, because with her faded dress and worn shoes, she knew she couldn't go with them.”
Ginny allowed Harry’s voice to soothe her as he continued to read, about the fairy godmother, the pumpkin and the glass slippers. Albus looked morbidly fascinated when the sisters cut off their toes to squeeze their feet into the shoe. James made a retching noise to signal his feelings about True Love’s Kiss. Lily remained completely silent, her eyes wide and unblinking, a sure sign that she was fighting to stay awake. Finally Harry reached the end of the story, and the spell was broken. 
“Can we have another story, Daddy!” clamoured James.
“Yes! Yes! Another!” chimed Albus.
“Wannanother‘un, Dada!” added Lily, sleepily.
“No more stories!” laughed Harry. “It’s bedtime for all of you. Come on up the stairs now please.”
“Ah, Daddy! Please!”
Smiling, Ginny decided it was time to intervene. “Daddy is quite right. It’s time you three were tucked up in bed.”
Four pairs of eyes, brown, green and hazel, swivelled to the doorway, and within moments, Ginny was almost bowled over as three small children hurled themselves at her with a loud chorus of “Mummy!”, closely followed by their father.
“Hi, you,” said Harry, dropping a quick kiss onto her lips. “We missed you.”
“Hi, yourself,” she smiled, bending down to gather Lily up onto her hip. “It’s good to be home. Shall we get these gorgeous little urchins upstairs?”
Harry shot her that lopsided grin that still made her heart skip, and between them, they ushered the children up to the bathroom. Harry supervised tooth brushing while Ginny wrangled Lily into her pyjamas, and before long, all three junior Potters were snuggled in their beds.
Lily and Albus were fast asleep within moments, but James hung on a little while longer, begging Ginny for a blow-by-blow account of the match in Portree, which, she suspected, was just an excuse for more cuddles with Mummy. It wasn’t, she decided, any kind of hardship to indulge him while he drifted off to sleep.
Ginny lingered at her eldest son’s bedside for several minutes after his breathing became deeper and more even, marvelling at his messy red-brown curls, long lashes and freckled cheeks. Eventually a shadow fell across the bedroom floor, and she realised Harry had come to check on them.
Quietly, she slipped away from James’s side, closing the door softly behind her and melting against her husband’s chest.
“Everything okay?” he asked her, murmuring the words into her hair as he held her close.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I just really missed you all. I can’t help worrying about them. And you.”
“We were fine,” he reassured her.
Ginny screwed her eyes closed. “I know. It’s just… I feel like when I’m being a journalist, I’m failing at being a mum, and when I’m being a mum, I’m failing at being a journalist.”
She felt a breath of silent laughter ruffle the hair at her crown. “Sounds like someone needs a pep talk from Hermione.” 
“Probably,” she shrugged, pausing for a moment. “I love my job, but I wish it didn’t put so much pressure on you to pick up the slack.”
“Hey.” He took a step back, placing his hands gently over her biceps, and looked straight into her eyes. “That’s isn’t what happens. You’re amazing. Honestly, amazing. But parenting’s a team sport. Yes, sometimes you have to rely on me, but I need you to remember that I couldn’t do what I do without you either. We have each other’s backs.”
Ginny felt the tension begin to drain from her shoulders. She relaxed back into his arms, but suddenly realised guilt wasn’t the only unpleasant sensation gnawing at her. “Um… not that this isn’t lovely, but I’m fucking starving,” she confessed, her stomach rumbling right on cue.
Harry kissed her forehead, then smiled at her indulgently. “No problem,” he told her. “Rule number one of being married to a Weasley: Always have food ready. I made lasagne for the kids earlier, the rest of it’s under a warming charm in the kitchen.”
Ginny let out a soft groan of pleasure. “You’re awesome, you know? Apparently Cinderella isn’t the only person to have bagged herself a Prince Charming!”
Harry laughed. “Come on then, Cinders - I’ll even throw in some garlic bread for good measure.”
As he took her hand and led her down the stairs, Ginny smiled to herself. Life might not be perfect - might never be perfect. But, she decided, if this was happily ever after, then it was pretty damned good.
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geeks-universe · 2 years
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The Wizard and the Elf. (Rings of Power Elrond x Reader)
“I think you should rest.”
It was the first words Elrond had dared to utter since your journey began less than a day ago. Two horses of the highest breed had been gifted to aid the both of you on your quest, but even they had grown tired.
What he said was true, but even so, you continued on for nearly an hour before you agreed to it.
The sun had long since sank beneath the horizon, and you figured there were only a few short hours before it rose once more. Exhaustion would do you no good, though. Even a couple of hours could make a difference in your abilities.
“We’ll camp here for the remainder of the night, and begin once more at first light.”
Elrond offered you a gentle smile as he dismounted.
Since he’d met you, he’d been irrevocably drawn to you. The High King wasn’t particularly pleased to grant him his request of escorting you south, but he had relented at the sheer desperation in his eyes.
Perhaps, Elrond was a bit too much of a romantic. He had felt lonely, he must admit, ever since he’d rekindled his friendship with Durin. Love wasn’t something he’d felt in a romantic sense, but the closer he grew to you, the more he felt it.
The camp you both constructed was nothing more than a blanket you’d laid down and the few bags you packed. 
Elrond would watch over you, and ensure nothing happened while you got what little rest you could. If you were to venture south, then you would need to bide your strength.
“Thank you,” you finally said, the chill of the air just bordering on what could be conceived as cold. You were thankful for it, as a fire wasn’t something you could risk while you traveled.
“I require no expression of gratitude,” Elrond assured you, placing his bow on the ground beside him, but still within reach should he need it. He took a seat across from you, watching closely as you adjusted the blanket.
“I’m grateful for your company.” You admitted, resting your head on your arm as you laid on your side.
It was obviously uncomfortable, and for a few moments, you struggled to find a suitable position. The small laugh Elrond felt grow in his chest was dissuaded by his smile.
“If I may...”
Elrond didn’t state what he wanted to do, but you trusted him enough to reply anyways.
“If it’s something that will make this remotely comfortable, I beg you to.”
He released the laugh he was holding in, repositioning himself so that he was beside you, instead of across from you. He paused, a peculiar shyness stunting his words.
You didn’t need them anyways.
You carefully laid your head in his lap, your hand resting on his thigh beside it. The contact sparked something deep in his chest, and he couldn’t resist brushing your hair from your face.
“Goodnight, Elrond.”
Your eyes had fallen shut, and you were asleep not a moment later. He stared down at where you lay, like an angel sent from the heavens themselves. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, and he continued to run his fingers through your hair.
For a moment, you looked so content and at peace, so different than the guarded expressions you normally wore. Heavy was your burden, but you could shed it for a moment while in his arms.
Warmth spread from inside of him, and he had the most peculiar urge to press his lips to your forehead. He decided that might be a bit too forward for the moment, but allowed himself to ponder that idea anyways.
Soon enough, sunrise would come, and you would part from him. It was a sad thought, soothed only by the hope that you might allow him to hold you like this again.
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letstrythisout4 · 26 days
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Chapter 6: Blaise Zabini and the overlooked allies
Series Masterlist
Ever since Halloween, Blaise had been growing increasingly uncomfortable in the Slytherin dormitories and common room, nothing compared to the atmosphere of Hufflepuff common room. He couldn’t tell if it was because of how willing the Hufflepuff first years were to allow Blaise to join them for breakfast, or how he abruptly realized how kind Professor Sprout was to all of her students (even those who refuse to respect her) or just how…homey the atmosphere of the Hufflepuff common room was. Isabella seemed to have picked up on this - despite Blaise being careful to have never voiced his opinions - and had begun to invite (read drag ) him there more frequently (read all the time). 
Seemingly Isabella’s plan came into effect, gaining him many Hufflepuff … acquaintances. He formed quick connections with all of the Hufflepuffs of his year, except Smith, once he finally met Hannah Abbott who had slept through his first meeting with the Hufflepuffs in the kitchens. They would now invite him into games of Exploding Snap, Wizards’ Chess and study sessions held, absurdly late at night before and after their midnight Astronomy class, weekly. And the older students had warmed up to him once realizing that he was friends with Isabella, apparently she had established a reputation as a great judge of character in the short months she’d been at Hogwarts.
Which is why Blaise was incredibly confused when he walked into the Astronomy tower and saw Isabella chatting with Theodore Nott of all people as Theo was setting up his telescope, enjoying her company if his soft laughter was anything to judge by. Blaise aggressively cleared his throat as he fully entered the room, fiddling with his astronomy chart.
“Hey Blaise.” Isabella chimed as if nothing was strange about the exchange he just witnessed.
“Hey Reyes.” Blaise responded shortly, deciding to question her thoroughly at the Hufflepuff meet up after class.
He spent the rest of class trapped in his mind running through all the possible reasons as to why the two would be speaking together.
“Mr. Zabini! Can you share with the class the current ascension and declination of Jupiter?” Professor Sinistra asked, tired of his lack of productivity.
“Yes, Professor. Right ascension is 03h 01m 05s, declination +16 degrees, 16 seconds, 07 minutes.” Blaise stated slowly.
“Thank you.” She said, narrowing her eyes at his dragged out answer.
Later that evening Blaise wandered into the Hufflepuff common room, briefly greeting students as he made his way to sit next to Isabella on the floor near the fire.
“Reyes, quick question for you.” She hummed without looking up from her astronomy essay, “What- hm- since when- hmm- since when are you friends with Theodore Nott?” he eventually stammered out .
“Oh, Theo!”
Theo? I don’t even call him Theo, and I’ve known him since we were seven.
“ Just a bit before I became friends with you sooooo”, she tilted her head side to side, “about mid-September, why?” she mumbled clearly not paying him much attention.
Blaise didn’t answer, he was too busy wondering how Isabella survived this long. “No reason, I’m really tired. I'm going to head down to the dorms. Goodnight, Reyes.” he blurted out as he smoothly got up, trying not to alert her.
“Night Blaise.”, she muttered, still not paying his attention.
The second Blaise was out of sight he ran all the way down to the Slytherin dungeons, outpacing Ms. Norris and narrowly dodging Peeves’ dung bombs. Only to hear a posh voice call to him upon entering the common room, “Zabini, can I talk to you for a second?”
Perfect, just the man I wanted to speak to, Blaise thought as he took the armchair next to Theo’s. “What do you want to talk about Nott?”
“Your girlfriend actually. She is making quite a few enemies recently, we may need to step in soon.”
“She isn’t my girlfriend.”
“Sure. Listen Zabini, I don’t know if she told you but the older students have taken…an interest in her.” Theo raised his eyebrows with purpose.
Blaise instantly knew what he was talking about, the bullying and harassment that Isabella was open to because of her heritage, blood status and race. He wasn’t even necessarily worried about the Slytherin’s in his year, the older students could be far more cruel and dangerous than Malfoy and his entourage could dream to be. “How much interest?”
“Enough for her to prove herself to be a great duelist but not enough to discourage them. They’ve decided instead of taking her on one on one, they're going to attack her as a unit, soon.” - he held up a hand when he saw Blaise go to speak- “I don’t know how soon but soon enough that people are starting to sound excited that someones going to finally “teach her a lesson”. And we-” we pointed to the two of them ”-need to warn her and stand beside her, together.”
“Okay but why are you warning me, what’s in it for you?” Blaise added, “Specifically.” as to not allow Theo room to avoid his question.
Theo leaned in, “ Believe it or not, Reyes and I are friends. And you and I both don't want to see your girlfriend get attacked by the older students. And we both don’t like this blood supremacy bullshit.” he whispered after his eyes darted around the empty common room.
It was well known in the Wizarding World that Tiberius Nott was a Death Eater, a good one, a deadly one and a rumored unapologetic one. No one quite knows how he managed to escape Azkaban, no one knows the details of his hearing and all of his documentation is private. All anyone knows is that he only affiliates himself with purebloods who were involved with You-Know-Who and advocates strongly and loudly for the anti-muggleborn laws to be passed, as he has somehow maintained his seat in Wizengamot.
“Since when do you not believe in it?” was the only question Blaise had left.
“Since I was eight.” Theo muttered, his shoulders sagging as if he finally had a weight lifted off of him.
They sat in silence watching as The Giant Squid cast a shadow over the room, “Alright we’ll work together to help her.” Blaise said, holding out his hand to Theo.
With a firm handshake Theo agreed with a simple “Deal.”
They decided to not tell Isabella until after the holidays as there were only three days before everyone boarded the train to go home, they also agreed it would be best to warn the rest of the ‘puffs of the attack as they would be able to be around her far more than Blaise and Theo. The Hufflepuffs took the news surprisingly well, they already knew about Isabella’s run-ins with the older students, and Blaise saw their eyes hardened with determination as they promised to make sure Isabella didn’t face off the Slytherins alone. Blaise spent the last days completing busy work in his classes, lounging around the Hufflepuff common room and keeping a close eye on Isabella in case Theo and his assumption was wrong.
Thankfully the days passed without issue and Blaise watched as Isabella, bundled up in a thick robe, oversized Hufflepuff yellow scarf and mittens, boarded the train with her Hufflepuffs. They were surrounding her with Wayne casually observing their surroundings for potential threats. The train ride was uneventful; the only difference between this time and the beginning of the year is Blaise would catch Theo’s eyes and they would both subtly shake their heads at Draco’s dramatics. 
As the train slowed pulling up to the station, Blaise gathered his things and rushed to the doors, ready to go home. Over the past few months he had written to his mother weekly but his letters were admittedly vague as he felt so awkward describing everything to his mother in written words, he always finished his letters with “ I’ll tell you more when I get home.” Now that the time had finally arrived Blaise felt as if he were going to burst if he didn’t get to tell his mom everything now. The doors opened and there she was Elizabeth Zabini in the flesh wearing her hair in long butterfly locs decorated with silver jewelry, and wearing expensive purple robes. He immediately rushed to her, enveloping her in a hug which she instantly reciprocated, Blaise didn’t care how he looked, all he cared was that he was going home. He had grown comfortable with Isabella and the ‘puffs but he couldn’t confide in them as he did his mother. 
His mother rubbed his back gently, “Shall we grab your things and head home my love?”
Nodding eagerly Blaise let go and went to the cargo compartment of the train to gather his things (grateful he remembered to place a featherlight charm before leaving Hogwarts). He heard behind him, “Your mom looks as kind as you described her.” a soft voice he had become so familiar with remarked.
“She does, doesn't she?” he said with a smile as he turned to Isabella with a new found respect for her for the way she described his mother. “Where are your parents?” he asked, looking out a window at the mass of people in the station, searching for the people that Isabella talked so little about compared to how much Blaise told her about his mother. 
“Oh they're waiting for me in a taxi on the other side of the barrier. They don’t really trust …all of this.” she whispered vaguely, uncharacteristically nervously, as she used her hand to gesture to the sea of witches and wizards.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” she said with a grim smile. “Well I’m off, I don’t have an owl so I’ll give you your gift after break.” She grabbed her things and strut confidently into the barrier despite Blaise seeing her eyes water.
He slowly walked towards his mother, feeling as if someone had just dropped a boulder on his lungs. As he struggled to breathe he almost begged, “Mother, can we invite a friend of mine to stay for the last week of break?”
“Of course. Is something wrong?” she questioned her eyebrows furrowing.
‘I don’t know.” Blaise replied honestly.
Author's notes: this chapter was a pain in the ass yall. And i dont think its the longest chapter i've written. Sigh. i fought with this chapter like snoopy fought that chair in the thanksgiving charlie brown special that might be to niche but i don't care please tell me yalls thoughts in the comments, like if you enjoy and as always thanks for reading
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