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lendeah · 3 months

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Three times you take care of Astarion and one time he takes care of you

[ao3 link]

You were a caring person. That much was clear from the first moment you let him drink off you, almost to death. It was also clear when you tried to cool Karlach down with a rainy spell so you could hug her. Or give Gale every piece of magic item in your inventory so he could eat it. You enjoyed taking care of people.

However, taking care of Astarion wasn't an easy task. As much as you wanted to be there for him and help him, the vampire was a difficult person to handle. He was like a wild animal, constantly on edge and ready to lash out. It soon became clear that Astarion wasn't used to being on the receiving end of caring. Wasn't used for someone to care at all.

So you went little by little, as to not startle him. You started by simply spending time with him. Patiently listening to his endless complaints and blatant flirting, offering a sympathetic ear and a playful response, respectively. It was clear that Astarion enjoyed your company, even if he didn't always show it. He would often make snarky comments or sarcastic remarks, but you could tell that deep down, he appreciated having someone around.

Of course, you let him drain you dry every night, which honestly left you sick and tired through the day, but it was worth the glint in his eyes and the way his cheeks seemed to light up as if he was alive again.

You couldn't help but notice; he always had a book in his hands. Whether you were at camp or out on an expedition, he was constantly reading. So you began collecting every book you stumbled upon and leaving them on his bedroll for him to find when he returned to his tent. No matter the genre- whether it was a history book, poetry or even erotica- you always gifted them to him.

The first times, he would search around the camp in confusion, wondering who had left them there for him. But after the fifth or sixth book, the vampire's expression would light up with a secretive smile as he eagerly flipped through the pages. It warmed your heart to see him so engrossed in a story, his curiosity evident in his shining eyes. However, you kept your identity hidden: if he knew it was you leaving the books, he might become wary again and you didn't want to risk it after coming this far. This went on for a few weeks until one day, as you were leaving another book, a voice called out from behind you.

"Well, hello there. I suppose the game is up."

You froze, the book still in your hands, as you turned around to see Astarion standing with a sly smile on his face.

"I... erm, I just found these books lying around and thought they might be yours," you said lamely.

He smirked, eyes narrowing as if he saw right through your excuses. "Funny, I don't recall owning any of these books you are holding."

You blushed, avoiding his gaze. "Oh...I must have made a mistake then."

But Astarion just shook his head, walking closer to you until he was within arm's reach. "You think I don't know what you're doing? You haven't exactly been subtle, sweetheart."

You felt your face heat up even more, the blush reaching your ears.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as your voice came out a little squeaky.

Astarion chuckled. "Well, if I didn't know any better, I might suspect that you were trying to seduce me. If you wanted to come into my tent, all you had to do was ask, my dear."

"I-It... It's not like that!" you sputtered out, trying to avoid eye contact with him. "I just thought... you like reading."

"Oh, I do," Astarion said in a low voice. "Among other things."

You swallowed hard as your mind raced. Had he just... Was he implying what you thought he was implying?

"I-I should really get going," you said quickly, turning away from him and almost tripping over your own feet.

But before you could run off, Astarion's hand closed around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. "Wait," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. His expression was a bit serious, a stark contrast to the playful persona he usually wore. "Thanks for the effort. It's almost sweet, doing all this for me."

The two of you stood there for a moment longer before Astarion spoke up again.

"Perhaps we could have a little fun and read them together sometime?" he suggested with a raised eyebrow.

You smiled shyly at him, feeling butterflies in your stomach at his offer.

"I... I would love that," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice.

Astarion's smile widened and he released your wrist. "Wonderful. I look forward to it, my dear. And I do hope the next book is a good one."

You walked away from his tent, trying to convince yourself that the thumping of your heart was simply due to your love for taking care of others.

With each passing day, your meetings with Astarion in his tent became a familiar routine. You allowed him to feed on you, then spent time reading together from the books you had collected for him. It was also a chance for you to study him closely, searching for any other way to care for him. One night, as he read aloud to you, the soothing sound of his voice lulled you into a peaceful slumber, curled up on his bedroll next to him. The next morning, as sunlight flooded the tent, you woke up to find Astarion already awake, holding a book in his hands.

"Good morning," you said, rubbing the sleep off your eyes. "Sorry I fell asleep here."

Astarion raised an eyebrow at you. "No need to apologize. I must say, you look quite lovely when you're sleeping. Although you do not sound that lovely, but well, we can't all be perfect."

You rolled your eyes, then sat up stretching your limbs. As you glanced around the room, your eyes landed on the book in his hand - the one you two had been reading last night. It was almost finished now.

"Wait, you haven't slept?"

He let out a soft laugh.

"My dear, I am an elf. We do not sleep; we trance. And to answer your inquiry, no, I did not partake in that either. It's not something I typically find enjoyable."

You looked at Astarion with confusion and concern. "But... why? Don't you need to rest?"

He gave a casual shrug. "If I enter into a trance, the only memories accessible to me are my own life experiences. And let me tell you, those are not pleasant memories."

"But isn't there a way for you to... just rest? Without the memories, I mean?" You asked.

Astarion smirked, his eyes still fixed on the book in his hands. "Why bother learning how to sleep when I can trance instead?" he quipped "Trancing has always been my preferred method anyway."

You couldn't imagine what it was like, being forced to relive your trauma over and over again every night.

"I’m so sorry, Astarion," you whispered, your voice barely above a hush.

He waved his hand dismissively. "Oh well," he said, "It's all in the past now, isn't it? Just another part of who I am."

You nodded slowly but you couldn’t shrug off his words as easily as he could. You recalled the way he looked when he was trancing - peaceful and unguarded. It was hard to imagine that behind those serene features he was being haunted by his memories.

The day was a blur, as you struggled to maintain a cheerful facade and engage in small talk. However, Astarion's words continued to haunt you. As the evening progressed and you both followed your usual nightly routine, you made a decision to do something.

"Astarion." He turned to you, a curious look on his face. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage."I think we could try something different tonight. Do you trust me?"

Astarion looked at you as though surprised by the question, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"Trust is a strong word, darling," he replied, a smirk forming on his lips. "But yes, I suppose I do trust you."

"Good," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart.

You cleared your throat as you settled into the bedroll, signaling for him to join you. Astarion raised an eyebrow but followed your lead, settling into the bedroll beside you.

"Rest your head on my lap," you instructed softly

Astarion's eyebrows shot up once more, but then he shrugged and followed your instructions. He cautiously rested his head on your lap, surprising you with his compliance. Sensing the tension in his body, you refrained from touching him yet, and instead reached for your bag. He watched you curiously as you took out a small jar.

"What's that?" he asked, his eyes glinting with intrigue.

"It's a special blend of herbs and oils that I use to help me relax and sleep better," you explained, opening the tub and taking out a small dab of the mixture. "Can I touch you?"

He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, before he answered, "Yes you may."

You rubbed the mixture between your fingers before gently massaging it onto his temples and forehead. You could feel him tense under your touch, probably not used to this kind of contact.

"Does it help?" he asked quietly, his eyes closed.

"It helps me," you replied honestly. "I'm not sure if it'll have the same effect on you, but I figured it's worth a try."

He nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," you replied, smiling back down at him. "Now just close your eyes and try to relax. Let your thoughts drift you away."

Astarion blinked, his long lashes fluttering against his pale skin. He looked at you with a mix of surprise and skepticism, clearly hesitant to follow your lead. But he didn't protest, didn't push your hands away. Instead, he nodded slightly, closing his eyes once more.

You watched him closely, noticing how the tension in his jaw gradually subsided and the creases on his forehead smoothed out little by little. You continued gently massaging his temples, the rhythmic movements soothing both of you.

The change in his demeanor prompted a fluttering sensation in your stomach that you hastily shrugged away, reminding yourself not to read too much into it.

Eventually, you started running your fingers through his hair and Astarion let out a contented hum, adjusting himself slightly in response. You could have sworn he was purring, and it seemed like he had fallen into a deep slumber.

By the end of the night, you were asleep with your hands still gently stroking his head.

From that moment, a subtle tension seemed to linger between the two of you. It was unspoken, but present every time you were alone together. Astarion would ask for your help to fall asleep each night, and without fail, he would drift off quickly and sleep soundly. You loved watching him relax under your touch, feeling his body go limp and his soft sleepy sounds. But more than that, you enjoyed drifting off with your fingers tangled in his soft curls, your heart feeling light and at ease in his presence.

However, the perils of your journey became worse as your party reached the Underdark. Your main concern became avoiding attacks from shadow monsters, leaving little room for any attention to whatever connection was building between you two.

One night, as you approached Astarion's tent, you noticed him sitting cross-legged in front of his small mirror. His brow was furrowed and his expression was one of deep contemplation. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should disturb him or not.

"Looking at something?" he suddenly asked.

You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to break the silence.

"How did you see me?"

"The only benefit to a mirror when you have my condition. It doesn't quite make up for the lack of a reflection, mind you."

And then it clicked. He couldn't see his own reflection. Why hadn't it occurred to you before?

"Do you miss it? Your own face, I mean."

Of course he did, what a stupid question.

"Preening in the Looking Glass? Petty vanity?" Astarion scoffed, "Of course I miss it."

Astarion's tone was bitter, his gaze fixed on his reflection-less face in the mirror. You sat down next to him, mirroring his position.

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

So he hadn't seen his face in over 200 years. You couldn't imagine what that must feel like. To not have seen your own face in over two centuries. To be unable to remember how it even looked like.

After your conversation, ideas began to circulate in your mind. You considered asking Gale to use his magic to transform your appearance to match his, but that would only be temporary. You wanted something more permanent that would allow him to admire his own face whenever he pleased. The thought of enchanting his mirror so that it would reflect his image crossed your mind. Surely there had to be a spell for that. However, time was limited and you were unsure how much you could dedicate to the task anyway. Then, an answer presented itself at the Last Light Inn when you encountered an artist on your way.

"How long would it take for you to paint a portrait?"

"Like, a month?"

"I will pay you triple if you finish it in a week."

Although the artist was hesitant, the promise of triple payment was too tempting for him to turn down. And so, a week later, you returned to Astarion's tent with a canvas in hand. He arched an eyebrow in question.

"What is this?" Astarion asked, gesturing towards your offering. "Another gift? At this rate, my tent will be overflowing with your generosity."

You grinned and gently set the canvas on the floor in front of him. A delicate, sheer fabric covered its surface.

"This is a special one, though."

His eyes glossed over with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as he leaned forward to unwrap it. An expectant silence filled the tent, the only sound being the rustle of fabric as he carefully lifted the veil. The sight that greeted his gaze left him momentarily speechless - an exquisitely painted portrait of a man, elegantly handsome with sharp, angular features and piercing red eyes.

"What is this?" Astarion asked with a chuckle, clearly admiring the artwork."You've given me a portrait of a handsome stranger? How thoughtful, dear. But the quality could be better, honestly."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you whispered, "That's you," holding your breath for his reaction.

There was a tense moment of silence as Astarion stared at the portrait. You couldn't quite read his expression, and your heart started to race with anxiety. Had you made a mistake? Was he displeased with the gift? Maybe you were intruding too much in his personal life...

After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally spoke. "This is... me?" His voice was barely above a whisper, almost disbelieving.

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes.

"Yes. I wanted you to have something that would allow you to see yourself again, so I asked an artist at the Last Light Inn to paint you."

His fingers traced over the painting, brushing lightly over the likeness of his own face, his own eyes - red now - but still his. He took a step back as if he'd been hit, staggering slightly. There was a moment where he just stood there, staring at the man in the portrait - at himself.

"Is this... is this how I look now?" He asks, voice barely audible.

You swallowed hard and nodded, "Yes."

"I..." he started, then stopped. Shaking his head, he turned towards you with a conflicted look in his red eyes. "I... don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," you told him reassuringly, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

He looked at you for a long moment before nodding and squeezing your hand back. A tear trickled down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away, but not before you saw it glistening in the dim light.

"Thank you," he said finally. It's quiet, almost lost in the silence of the tent, but the sincerity in his voice is unmistakable. You smiled at him, feeling a wave of relief and happiness wash over you.

"You're welcome," you whispered softly.

Astarion's crimson eyes shimmered with tears as he gazed at the painting, struggling to maintain his composure. You gave him a reassuring smile before turning around to give him some space to process his thoughts and feelings. But just as you were about to leave, he reached out and took hold of your hand, stopping you.

"Don't go" he said solemnly. "Please don't go... I'd like to... I want..." slowly, he stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug.

You were taken aback for a moment but then quickly melted into his embrace. After a moment of silence, the vampire spoke softly, his voice raspy.

"I don't know... how to repay you, I..." he murmured into your hair.

"You don't have to," you whispered back, feeling overwhelmed by his sudden display of emotion.

After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally pulled away slightly so that he could look into your eyes. His eyes were moist with tears, but they also held a glimmer of hope, happiness. You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a wave of warmth spread throughout your body from the simple touch. And in that moment, you realized just how deeply you had fallen for this man. It wasn't just a matter of caring anymore; you were deeply and irrevocably in love with him.

And you would tell him, you decided. You would let him know that he didn't owe you anything because you had acted out of love. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your veins. His eyes were still on yours, searching, questioning.

"Astarion...," you started, your voice soft and filled with emotion, "I need to tell you... I..."

However, just as you were about to spill your heart, the sound of someone calling for you pierced through the quiet atmosphere of the tent. With a sigh, you reluctantly untangled yourself from Astarion's arms.

"I'm afraid that's my cue."

He gave a silent nod, his eyes reflecting a mix of conflicting emotions.

"Sure, sure. Wouldn't want to interrupt your exciting duties as our esteemed leader."

You rolled your eyes with a small smile and got out of the tent. However, there was a feeling of disappointed and regret for not being able to express your true feelings to him. You made a mental note to tell him later when you had the chance.

But that night, Astarion didn't come to his bedroll. Nor the next one. Or the one following. You sensed he was putting some distance between you as if something had changed. He continued with his blatant flirting and sly remarks, of course. They just seemed... mechanical. Every time you tried to talk about your feelings, he would deflect or change the subject. Days turned into weeks and still nothing changed between you two. Astarion remained distant and aloof while you struggled with your own emotions, feeling confused and rejected.

One morning, you woke up with a heavy weight on your chest. You initially dismissed it as the usual feeling of sadness that had been lingering for a week now. But after a whole day of choking on your own breath and dizziness, mixed with a deep pounding in your head, you knew this wasn’t the case. Despite your condition, you pushed through the day, determined not to be seen as weak or unreliable by your group.

However, as time passed, it became increasingly difficult to hide your worsening state from everyone else. Your coughing spells were becoming more frequent, and your body was weakening rapidly. You could sense Astarion's worried stare on you from time to time, but he never approached you to inquire about your condition.

That all changed one morning when you couldn't even muster the strength to get out of bed. Your entire body was in pain and your fever was soaring. You heard footsteps approaching your bedrolls and prepared yourself for one of your companions coming to check on you (or more likely, tell you off). However, it was Astarion's smirking face that came into view.

"Well, well, well," he said with a teasing tone, "Seems like our fearless leader is not feeling so fearless anymore. Feeling lazy today, are we?"

You managed to roll your eyes, laying your arm back over them to shield from the morning sunlight peering in through a hole in the tent. "If by lazy you mean sick, then yes." Your voice was weak and raspier than usual. You coughed into your arm, the action causing your body to shake and shudder with discomfort.

"Hmm..." Astarion's voice was no longer teasing. "That doesn't sound good, darling."

His gaze was intense when he leaned down to press his hand against your forehead. You suppressed a shiver at the unexpected coolness it brought and tried to turn away from him. He didn't let you, pushing your hair away from your face with his other hand.

"You're burning up," he said, moving away from you but not before you saw the worry flash briefly in his eyes. He stood up abruptly and started pacing around your bedroll, "What can I do?" He asked more to himself than you.

"Nothing… I just need… rest..." You managed to respond before another coughing fit washed over you.

Astarion shook his head "I'm going to get Shadowheart and Halsin. They will know what to do."

Astarion hurried out of the tent, and surely a few minutes later he came back bringing your two companions. As Halsin handed you the potion and Shadowheart casted her healing spells, Astarion's hand brushed against yours briefly before pulling away.

"Thank you," you whispered weakly before passing out.

A few hours later, after resting and drinking more disgusting beverages than you could count, your fever had finally subsided a bit and your coughing fits were less frequent. Astarion stayed by your side through the whole ordeal, a comforting silhouette against the flickering candlelight. You closed your eyes and felt his cold hand soothingly stroke your forehead. The cool, comforting touch of his skin against yours was a relief from the fever heat radiating off your body.

"Feel any better?" Astarion asked, raising an eyebrow.

You attempted a smile, "Well, I'm not dead yet."

His lips twitched in response, a semblance of his usual smirk flickering across his handsome face. "Good. That would be inconvenient for my dietary needs."

Despite feeling weak and exhausted, you couldn't help but chuckle. It was a welcome distraction from the constant throbbing pain in your head and rattling chest.

He shifted awkwardly on his seat next to you, looking almost hesitant, before he started speaking again. "I... I was scared of losing you," he admitted, "And I have to confess something."

His usually confident and cocky demeanor was replaced with an almost childlike uncertainty.

"What is it?" You asked, your voice still weak but full of concern.

He sighed heavily before meeting your gaze.

"I had a nice simple plan; to manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. And honestly, I thought it would be so easy, with you being so open, so eager to care for everyone..." He frowns, "But that is the thing. You are so kind, so thoughtful. No one's ever cared for me the way you have. And... I don't know how to handle it."

You reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing it gently. "I understand," you said softly. "It's not easy to let someone take care of you, but you don't have to push me away. You deserve love and happiness just like everyone else."

He nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I want to try," he said, determination flickering in his gaze. "I want to let you take care of me. And I want to take care of you, if you let me."

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words.

"Of course. But first, I feel like I need to tell you something too." You took a deep breath before continuing, "I...I think I'm falling in love with you."

He looked at you puzzled, before letting out a loud laugh.

"Oh, my love. I already knew."

You were taken aback by his words. "What? You did?"

He rolled his eyes "Dear, you were hardly subtle about it. A portrait? Essential oils? Come on..."

You couldn't help but laugh at his response, feeling relieved and embarrassed all at once.

"I guess I'm not as sneaky as I thought," you said, shaking your head.

"But I'm not better." He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I've been falling for you since the moment you started leaving books on my bedroll."

With that, he closed the distance between you and pressed his lips against yours in a soft kiss. It was like a spark igniting, sending waves of electricity through your body. In that brief moment, all the emotions and tensions that had been building between you seemed to dissipate into thin air. The softness of his lips against yours was like a warm embrace, melting away any doubts or fears you may have had.

When you both pulled away, you rested your forehead against his and whispered, "You are going to get ill now."

He chuckled, "How fortunate I am already dead then."

Yet, in that moment, the gleam of his eyes made him seem more alive than you had ever seen him.

#astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 prompts #astarion prompt

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addledmongoose · 4 months

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Best of 2023 Good Omens Fanfiction

This is my list of the 20 best Good Omens fanfiction works I've read in 2023.

A few notes:

These are all complete works; there are no WIPs in the list.

Please feel free to let me know if a link stops working

It's not an ordered list. That would be far too difficult.

You'll probably recognize some of the most popular ones. They're popular for a reason, after all, but I hope you find something you haven't yet read.

The majority are full-length works, but there are definitely some shorter pieces.

These are certainly not the only good works I've read, but they are the ones I'm most likely to read more than once

Click the Keep Reading to see the list

If you're the author of one of these, first off, thank you! But second, if you want me to add your tumblr name to your story, let me know, and I'll edit.

This first section, all the stories are canon-compliant or canon-adjacent. In other words, it's at least somewhat set in the Good Omens universe.

a lighthouse (burning) (108K; Rated M)

This one is canon-adjacent and set in the 19th century. Aziraphale goes to a lighthouse to figure out where all the lighthouse keepers disappeared to, and Crowley follows along. This one is a bit of a spooky mystery along with the romance, and the writing style is simply beautiful. You really get a sense of being trapped in this lighthouse in the middle of nowhere.

***

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It (79K; Rated E)

It's honestly hard to remember that this one isn't human AU, but they're still just as angelic/demonic as ever. Aziraphale joins Grindr and starts texting (and then sexting) with a charming young man. It's no secret to the reader who this new hookup is. This story is genuinely funny at times. I like the funny ones.

***

The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down (103K; Rated M)

This is one of the best reverse omens stories I've read that isn't technically a reverse omens. Crowley wishes things were different after leaving the bookshop, and the universe gives him his wish. He finds himself in a world where Aziraphale hates him, Death has trouble taking lives, and basically everything you knew about the world of Good Omens is upside down. It's very funny. It uses inline footnotes (which is good, because it has a LOT of footnotes), and Death is hilarious.

***

it's a new craze (5K; Rated T)

Another one that seems like it should be human AU but isn't. Crowley and Aziraphale start up a podcast after the Notpocalypse and gain a loyal fanbase who can't figure out if they're a couple or not. They often forget who their audience is and often reference events in their shared history that make no sense to the humans listening.

***

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a demon in possession of a mobile phone, must be in want of attention (6K; Rated G)

And yes, that is the entire title. Another funny short story where a couple of podcast hosts receive a call from a certain angel whose demon trapped himself in his phone and won't leave.

***

In Mixed Company, or the Corporate Retreat of Heaven and Hell (52K; Rated M)

I've read this one at least three times, and it's probably my favorite of all. Every 300 years, Heaven and Hell share a company retreat on Earth during which angels and demons surrender their celestial powers and hold retreats. It has a great new angel friend of Aziraphale's; Hellish Powerpoint presentations; Gabriel being annoyingly chipper; and Aziraphale and Crowley sneaking around like teenagers trying to find some alone time.

***

How To Woo A Demon (24K; Rated T)

Aziraphale researches demonic courtship rituals and starts implementing them in order to convince Crowley he wants to take their relationship to the next level. Crowley is very confused by Aziraphale's actions. Another cute, funny one.

***

Factory Settings (107K; Rated T)

This one is famous for coming out practically as S2 dropped, making people think whoever wrote it (the author is anonymous) had something to do with the production of the show.

This is the only one I'm going to say anything negative about. There are a lot of spelling errors and typos in it. It needs a hard editing pass. Despite that complaint, I devoured this story as fast as I could scroll. It's that good, and even knowing all the errors are there, I'll probably still re-read it. I'm usually pretty picky about errors like that, so for me to overlook it and even recommend it, means I really liked it.

Crowley gets reinstated as the angel, Raphael, with no memory of his time as Crowley, and Aziraphale struggles to return him to his demonic self. It's heart-breaking and wonderful and I absolutely loved it.

***

One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) (17K: Rated E)

Much like In Mixed Company, Heaven and Hell come together for a corporate retreat on Earth. In this one, some totally random demon who's name definitely doesn't rhyme with Bowley created a wager in Hell to see which demon could bed an angel first.

Another funny one. This time, a lot of the humor comes from the demons doing their best to pick up the angels with really bad pickup lines.

***

We Only Said Goodbye with Words, I Died A Hundred Times (9K; Rated E)

If I could learn to write even half as good as this, I'd be ecstatic. The emotions the author packs into this story are mind-blowing.

Crowley receives a cursed amulet that creates an ever-increasing need for the person he wants the most and goes to see Aziraphale.

***

To reveal my heart in ink (29K; Rated E)

Aziraphale starts writing letters to Crowley by mail. The letters they exchange slowly get more and more explicit.

***

Pray For Us, Icarus (66K; Rated G/T)

The author wrote this one as a series, so each one varies in chapter count and rating, but they tell a single, contiguous story.

This was the first long-form GO fanfiction I read, and it was way too close to the ending of S2. I really should've waited a while, because holy cow, is this one heartbreaking.

For three hundred years, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has spent those three hundred years trying to restore him to his true self.

The author, Atalan, is probably one of the best writers on the site. This story is stunning in the quality of its writing, in the pacing of the story, and in the emotions evoked. I normally don't like being sad (like I said, I like the funny ones), but I've saved this story off to make sure I always have it.

***

Pretend For Me (53K; Rated E)

In a panic, Aziraphale tells the archangels that he survived hellfire due to his soul mixing with Crowley's because they're in a romantic and sexual relationship, but now they want them to prove it.

I'm a sucker for fake relationship stories, and there aren't a whole lot of them where the characters are still angel/demon, but this one is. It's another fun one, though a bit more angsty than some of those I listed above.

***

The following are all human AU. Good chance you'll recognize all or most of these.

Married At First Sight (147K; Rated T)

One of the most recently completed stories in the list, this is a fake relationship story where Aziraphale and Crowley join a reality show that marries complete strangers off to each other. Their new marriage starts off on a less than idyllic foot and they decide to fake it for the show. The author is a master of making you want to scream "for fuck's sake, just talk to each other, you walnuts!"

Probably one of my favorite fake relationship stories.

***

Postcards From Paris (12K; Rated G)

The author, ghostrat (@mrghostrat), is a fantastic writer of human AU, and it's worth going through his entire backlist (and read his current WIPs, too).

Crowley moves into his Mayfair flat and starts receiving postcards addressed to the previous tenant from one A.Z.F., who is in Europe hunting for bizarre bibles and rating wine. Sweet and fluffy and the perfect antidote if you've just been on an angst binge.

***

Or Be Nice (151K; Rated E)

I stayed up until 6:30 in the morning reading this one, crashed for three hours, then read until I finished it. Then that night, I started it again.

This is, without hesitation, my all-time favorite human AU. It's funny. I love the author's version of the characters, and I will probably end up reading it again in just a few months. I probably already would have if it wasn't for the length of my Mark For Later and Subscription lists.

Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbors who get into a noise war. They both have their reasons for their actions, though to be honest, Crowley is a bit of an ass at first. Once they really start talking, though, they are absolutely wonderful together.

Even if you've never read a human AU, I recommend at least giving this one a try.

***

What We Make Of It (Shotgun Wedding) (213K; Rated E)

This is the third charlottemadison work on this list. 15% of this list is just this one author. That's how good they are.

Aziraphale works as an English teacher. Crowley is the guardian for his nephew, Adam, and works for a school testing company. Crowley can't risk his job dating his nephew's gorgeous and charming teacher. Unless...

Crowley comes up with a crazy plan. Now he just has to convince Aziraphale to go along with it.

Again, another very popular human AU. One thing I love about this story is how there's a lot less angst between the two characters, and how they both really care for Adam.

***

Slow Show (95K; Rated E)

The very first human AU I read. Didn't even think I'd like that specific genre until I read it. Now, as you can see, it's about half of my reading list.

This is an actor AU. Aziraphale (named Avery here) and Crowley are actors working together on a new show. Avery is an award-winning, straight-laced, well-respected actor; Crowley is a mess who immediately falls head-over-heels for him and somehow has to get through the show without letting his (apparently straight) costar realize that.

***

South Downs (76K; Rated E)

Another actor AU. This time, Aziraphale is an openly-gay actor, well-respected for his period drama work. Crowley is a once-blackballed actor who jumps at the chance to star in a gay Regency romance with Aziraphale in the hopes it can restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley is struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man.

I love the growing friendship between these two as much as the romance. I love how comfortable and confident Aziraphale is here; and how caring he is toward Crowley's growing awareness of his sexuality.

***

This one doesn't really fit either category, so I'm putting it here.

The Rose and the Serpent (56K; Rated M)

By the same author as Pray For Us, Icarus comes a GO retelling of Beauty and the Beast. Aziraphale is sent off by his older brother, Gabriel, into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle. Turns out, neither the snake nor the castle are what he was expecting.

Light-hearted and with very memorable characters, the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale is simply stunning. I love how Newt and Anathema are used here. The quality of this one is as good as Icarus, and I loved this one so much I could easily have read 300K more words.

***

And bonus: mine!

The Beginning of the End (Again) (79K; Rated M)

The first fanfiction I've ever written and the first book I've written in a decade. I had the first two chapters in mind after finishing S2, and the story grew from there. I actually have a sequel in mind after I finish another, separate fake relationship story.

Crowley spends months drowning his sorrows after Aziraphale accepts the Supreme Archangel position, until a group of demons shows up one day and tells him the Second Coming is nearly upon them, and they want him to stop it. Turns out being a demon isn't much fun if there are no humans left to tempt.

Aziraphale has spent these last months in Heaven looking for ways to stop the Second Coming while mourning the way he and Crowley left things. After discovering that Hell's minions have been tasked by the Metatron to escort the son of God on a tour of Earth in preparation for his Second Coming, he hurries down to see what's going on, fearing the worst.

Instead he discovers Crowley escorting the Messiah around Earth. Is his demon taking the son of God on dates?

#good omens fanfiction

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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months

Text

Bad Reputation

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Sainz!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Words: 2.2K

Requested: Yes/No

Request: Omg this is random but can you pls write bad reputation max x super good girl reader? Like everyone says she shouldn’t go for max and criticising their relationship, saying he’s bad for her and whatever but they just don’t know him like she does and we all know max is the sweetest person irl (and Netflix is a bitch for pushing a bad agenda about him) and it’s just all the sweet secret moments they have between them? Kinda like the song ‘call it what you want’ by taylor swift & delicate (‘my reputations never been worse, so you must like me for me’) 🥺

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, secret relationship, Papa and Carlos are fuckers, Carlos is a petty bitch, nothing major honestly

Max Verstappen The Notorious Bad Guy That Stole A Championship

You scuff at the news article on your phone. How ridiculous. Not only was it dragging up old wounds, but distasteful simply due to Max dominating right now.

"Something wrong?" Your eyes peer at your brother over your sunglasses. "No, just another distasteful article about Max again." You try to reign in the anger of your words, but it's evident as the man across from you raises his eyebrow. "You defend him too much." Rolling your eyes, you want to bite back that you don't.

It'd be a lie, of course. You knew Max better than everyone else. Yet, you had to keep that hidden from the world. "You're just jealous because he's been kicking your ass." Sticking your tongue out at your brother Carlos who flips you off. "Carlos, you put your finger down right now." Your mother hisses, fixing your hair which has you moving away.

"She's not a baby, Mama," Carlos grumbles, leaning back into the lawn chair. "Carlos, your sister is a good girl. Don't sully her eyes." Your mother sighs, placing plates of food down. "Mama, stop. I'm not a child." You grumble, lowering the brightness on your phone.

You hated having to hide your relationship with Max. But, he was known to have a horrible temper, foul-mouthed, cheater, thief, and everything else under the sun. But, to you? He was calm, a boy who grew into a man too quickly, chasing the records to be etched into greatness. Max's foul mouth was never pointed at you. That mouth gave you soft promises and sweet nothings.

Everyone judged him because of DTS, his radios, and the fact he had no remorse when it came to the races, driving hard and winning hard. They needed someone to blame, and Max was the easy escape for fans and teams alike.

I saw the article. You didn't steal it. You won fairly. They don't want to admit it.

Hitting send, you place your phone on your lap, waiting for a reply. You knew it'd be late in Monaco as you enjoyed the summer break with Carlos back home in Spain. Throughout the night, you kept checking your phone, unable to help yourself. A soft buzz on your lap has your smile growing more than usual as you look at your phone.

I could care less; I'll only care if they involve you. No one knows yet, and that's for the best. When do you come back? I miss you.

Those three words have your heart beating faster. He missed you? Max and you haven't been together long, just shy of 7 months. Still, in that honeymoon phase, you always made excuses to your brother and his friends about why you couldn't hang out. Carlos was going suspicious, even once tried following you only to see you go to a bookstore.

I miss you too. Have to go. Carlos is about to-

You hit send just as Carlos snatches your phone. "Carlos! Give it back!" Swiping for the phone, Carlos steps back as he looks at your screen. He laughs as you two fight for the phone, but it dings, making you frantic. "Carlos, please. Please give me back my phone. I'm begging you." Desperation evident. "What? Texting your boyfriend?" Carlos jokes, but that smile of his slips when he reads the text.

"Carlos, I can explain." He tosses your phone back, all traces of your brother gone, replaced with a pissed-off man. "Max answered your text. We'll talk later." He whispers in your ear, going back to his seat. The rest of the family joining the two of you now. Looking down at your phone, you see the text and know Carlos is about to lose his mind.

Call me. Love you buttercup

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

Lying on your bed, you stare at Max's contact. You want to call him, but you know Carlos is waiting for the party downstairs to die so he can slip away. Max had texted you multiple times since the afternoon, ranging from asking how dinner was to asking if you were angry with him.

"Y/n?" Shooting up, you fix your shirt as your older brother Carlos pokes his head in. "I'm still awake." Carlos pushes the door wider, fitting his body through before closing it with no sound. "Do I need to ask, or will you tell me?" He moves from the door to lay on your bed, you following him. "Carlos, please don't make me." He huffs, his larger hand holding yours. "Why? Because you'll know what I'll say? And I will say it, pequeña." You sit up, staring at your phone screen.

It lights up, Max's smiling face staring at you. Unable to look at it, you hit decline and mute it. "He's good to me, Carlos." Your brother snorts, rolling his eyes at those words. "So what? You know his reputation. He's a loose canon that doesn't care who he hurts. You'll be a casualty in his warpath." Carlos sits up, rubbing your shoulder as he stands. "Dump him, pequeña. He'll only hurt you." Carlos doesn't wait for an answer, leaving with a sense of accomplishment, thinking you'll dump Max.

Standing, you look at yourself in the mirror. The small silver bracelet with a little lion hides slips from your sleeve, reminding you of the day Max gave it to you.

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

3 months ago

"Max, I'm going to be late. Carlos and Papa are strict about curfew." It was stupid, but the men in your family still gave you a curfew. You did have the good girl image as the youngest Sainz to uphold. "We've got 30 minutes. Besides, I can get us back in 5," Max smirks, tugging you through the crowded festival.

Smiling, you tug him back, wrapping your other arm around the one holding your hand. Unable to help himself, he leans down, kissing you without a care who saw. "Come on. There is one stand I want to visit." High off the kiss, you nod as you move around the people. Max stops before this tiny little stand with an older woman making jewelry.

"Excuse me, can you make this for me?" The older woman smiles, taking a slip of paper in Max's hand. Opening it, her smile grows as she nods and gets to work. "What's she making?" Max shushes you, kissing your ear. "Be patient, buttercup." Unable to stop the blush, you turn away, hiding your face in his side. Laughing, he kisses the top of your head as fireworks explode above.

The older woman finishes what she is working on, handing it to Max. Pocketing it, he hands over more money than needed. Before the woman notices, Max tugs you away. "Where are we going?" You yell over the loud music and fireworks. "Somewhere, quiet." The farther you walk, the music starts to fade, but the fireworks still burst into colors above. You gasp, seeing a little gazebo with a pond around it. "Come on." He urges, pulling you out of your haze.

The two of you run to the gazebo, you jumping up the ledge so you can look Max in the eye. "How'd I get so lucky?" Max whispers, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I think I should be asking that." With a hum, you rest your head on his chest, watching the fireworks. Max says nothing as you enjoy the show and others' warmth. "Oh, this is for you," Max whispers, leaning down to grab something from his pocket.

"Max, you shouldn't have gotten me anything." Hating when he spends money on you. "Stop. You're the light in my life right now. Let me be the one to make it burn brighter." Shutting you up with a kiss. Pulling away with giggles, he places the silver bracelet in your palm, looking away. Peering at it, your heart squeezes as you stare at a little lion head dangling off it.

"We can't always be together when we're so close, sooo," Max groans, shy at admitting this. "This will prove that even though I can't always be next to you, I'm here." Pointing at the lion's head, looking up, he stops seeing tears in your eyes. "It's perfect. I love you." Your eyes grow wide as you both take in what you have just said.

"Oh, Max. God, it's so earlier. I'm so-" Words get swallowed as his lips mesh with yours, kissing away your apologies. "Don't apologize. I love you too, Y/n Sainz." The two of you laugh, losing yourself in one another. Curfew be damned.

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

Present Day

"Stay away from Max. Today is a race day, we don't need you getting caught and your name being ruined." Your father hisses so others don't hear. So much for trusting Carlos. He told your father immediately, not even giving you a chance. "Yes, Papi." Your father nods and lets you go, heading to talk to your cousin and Carlos.

Carlos looks at you smiling, but you lift your hand, flipping him off; no shame in showing off the bracelet Max gave you. Carlos's face turns sour, leaning in, whispering something to your father, who turns his face filled with rage. "Mama, going for a drink." Your mother waves you off, slipping through people, careful not to be spotted by cameras or media personnel.

It was stupid and reckless. You knew that walking that way was asking for trouble. You just couldn't help it, wanting one glimpse of Max. Stepping back and into the shadows, cameras come rushing past saying they just saw Max. Looking up, you feel a presence behind you and a hand on your mouth. Letting out a scream, it's muffled as that warm voice soothes you. "Buttercup, it's me." Automatically your body relaxes into his.

"Max?" Chuckling, he drops his hand, spinning you around. Fingers going for the lion head rubbing it. "Papi and my family know." Max's smile falls, fingers still, and he steps back. "Oh." You hate that he's doing this. Shutting down and refusing to talk about this. "Max, hey." Grabbing his hand, you pull him back close. "Please don't shut down on me. Please, I don't care what my family says. I love you." Max sighs, looking down at you as he yanks you into a hug.

"I love you too, but I don't want my reputation to harm you." He whispers into your hair, his racing heart calming by holding you in his arms. "Fuck that. I want you, Max. I picked you. You were my first and last choice." Max leans down, kissing the bracelet, then your lips. "I have to go. Race is about to start." You nod, giving him one last kiss as you watch him rush off.

"Where were you?" You control the urge to roll your eyes at your brother. You're tired of hiding how you feel, and you weren't going to be ashamed of it. "I was with Max. If you have a problem with it, deal with it." You hiss before joining the rest of your family, refusing to say a word.

"YES!" You knew it was wrong to scream loudly when Max crossed the line, a photo finish with your brother. You didn't care. Max deserved this win, but Carlos didn't. The backstabber needed to feel this sting, and you're glad he would. Ripping off the headphones, you make a run to parc ferme, only to be yanked back.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Your father snarls. "LET GO OF ME!" People turn, your father letting you go immediately as you take deep breaths. "I love him! I love him, Papi! He's the only one who understands me and is a good man! But you and Carlos are so blinded by the media and the rumors that you don't see how happy I am! So fuck you and this stupid image! I'm going to kiss the love of my life." Laughing, you turn, bolting off, watching Max jump out of the car, celebrating.

"MAX!" Hearing your voice, his helmet turns, looking at you. Without a second thought, he rushes over, scooping you up, pulling you over the rails as you hug him tight. "I love you, I love you." You repeat before you lean back, kissing his helmet. You can see his eyes scrunch in happiness.

"I don't care what people say; I don't care about your bad reputation. You're mine, good or bad. I choose you." Max laughs, spinning you around as people scream and cheer. From the corner of your eye, you see a red storm past, not even looking at you. He'll get over it. Even if he doesn't, you still have Max.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1 scenario #max x reader #max verstappen imagine #max imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen angst #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen scenario #red bull racing

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edenesth · 13 days

Text

TWTHH Bonus: Star of the Show

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

A/N: In case you haven't already read Honeymoon Avenue (the first bonus chapter), it's probably better to check that out before reading this. Also, please be warned that this contains a slight spoiler to Wooyoung and Hongjoong's spinoffs.

Honeymoon Avenue | Fic Masterlist

"Your wife is with child."

The words echoed in the general's mind long after Yunho had uttered them. You remained unconscious in his room, undergoing a more thorough examination. Seonghwa had been asked to leave while you were attended to. He felt a wave of relief knowing that, according to the physician, your fainting spell was simply your body's way of compensating for the exhaustion caused by the demands of the little one growing inside you.

"Don't worry, everything will be okay."

"I'm counting on you, Yunho," he recalled telling the doctor before exiting his private quarters, his gaze lingering on your still, pale figure nestled under the covers.

"When have I ever let you down, my lord? She'll be fine, the baby will be fine; your family, they'll be just fine."

Realising there was no use lingering outside while the physician and his team of servants were busy examining you—his presence wouldn't change anything—he decided to occupy himself elsewhere while he waited. However, returning to his study seemed impossible; he knew he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.

As if with a mind of its own, his feet carried him toward the House of Lotus. His heart warmed at the familiar sight of the pavilion facing the lotus pond, your favourite spot, once empty but now furnished with a small table, cosy cushioned seats, and decorative lanterns. It was a testament to the time you two spent together there. He could never tire of being there with you, and the mere thought of spending eternity like that was more than enough to fill his heart with joy.

Soon, it wouldn't just be us two.

Deciding not to sit alone without you, he opted to enter your quarters instead, where every corner held a piece of you. He softened as he opened the door and spotted your embroidery kit at the centre of the room. You had been deeply invested in the craft ever since Hongjoong had taught you a few techniques, dedicating nearly all your time to it when you weren't occupied with anything else. He remembered finding you diligently working on it late into the night and had to gently coax you to bed with him.

Approaching the items, he settled into your usual spot before going through the designs you had created. A chuckle escaped him as he took in some of your earlier, more clumsy works—clearly, these were from when you first began learning from the dressmaker. As he continued, a smile graced his lips at the gradual improvement in quality. It hinted at the possibility that you had discovered a hidden talent; his friend would surely be proud to see your progress.

However, his movements faltered as he reached the bottom of the pile and discovered what appeared to be a... baby shirt. Realisation dawned on him: had this been your secret project all along? Were you aware of your pregnancy all this time?

Questions flooded his mind, each one more pressing than the last. Why hadn't you told him? Why had you lied and pretended everything was fine when you must have been feeling so sick? Did you not trust him enough to confide in him?

His heart ached with the thought that you might have felt the need to hide something so important from him. It left him feeling a mix of confusion, hurt, and a tinge of betrayal. Had he not made it clear that he was there for you, no matter what?

As he sat there, staring at the tiny garment in his hands, he couldn't help but wonder what reasons you could have had for keeping this from him. His mind raced with possibilities, each one more heartbreaking than the last. He thought back to all the times you had been showing symptoms of pregnancy, and it hurt him to know you didn't feel safe enough to tell him the truth. Was it because you didn't think he would be a good father? What if, deep down, there was a part of you that was still afraid of him? What if—

Before his thoughts could further linger, a knock on the door snapped him out of his train of thought. Turning to see who it was, he allowed entry and found Eunsook standing there with a smile on her face, "The mistress is awake, master," she announced. With that, all his previous worries were momentarily swept from his mind. Only you mattered as he quickly rose from his seat and dashed towards his room to see you.

Rushing into the room, Seonghwa's heart raced as he laid eyes on you, sitting up on his bed with Yunho standing beside you. Relief flooded him as he saw you speaking softly with the physician, a gentle hand pressed against your stomach.

Oh thank god, she's alright... they're alright.

Moving closer, he couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for you. Despite the recent scare, you looked calm and serene, your presence soothing his worried mind. He approached quietly, not wanting to interrupt your conversation with Yunho but eager to be by your side.

As soon as your eyes met, he noticed the hint of moisture gathering in your gaze as you uttered his name, "Hwa..." His heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice, and he quickly moved forward, settling beside you on the bed. Gently, he grasped your hand, brushing strands of hair away from your face and stroking your cheek, "What's wrong, my love? Are you feeling alright?"

You nodded, leaning into his touch and motioning for Yunho to speak on your behalf. Taking a deep breath, the physician began, "Her condition is currently stable, my lord."

Seonghwa furrowed his brow in dread, "I'm sensing a 'but' there."

"But..." the doctor continued, "Due to years of severe malnutrition throughout the lady's childhood, her body lacks many essential nutrients necessary for both her and the baby. This explains her weakness. But fear not, I will do everything in my power to ensure her full recovery. Once we pass the three-month mark safely, the remainder of the pregnancy should proceed smoothly."

"I... I understand. Thank you again, Yunho, for your hard work. It seems we'll need your frequent visits for the next few months," the general acknowledged, offering a grateful nod to his friend.

"No problem, my lord and lady. I'll ensure Eunsook receives all the necessary information for the mistress' care. Please excuse me, I should get started on the preparations immediately."

Once Yunho had left and you were alone together, your husband turned his attention back to you. Squeezing your hand gently, he couldn't shake the image of the baby shirt from his mind. He knew he had to address it. Leaning closer, he pressed a kiss on your forehead before delicately broaching the subject, "I... I have a question."

You responded in a soft voice, returning the squeeze of his hand, "What is it, Hwa?"

"My love, have you been aware that you were pregnant all along?"

As your gaze met his, he rested his forehead against yours, seeking to reassure you, "It's just... I was going through your embroideries earlier and I saw it—the baby shirt."

You let out a soft sigh, nodding, "Yes, I... I had a feeling, and I've been preparing myself to tell you about it, Hwa. But I just didn't know how to say it. I was scared of your reaction." When he attempted to pull away, you reached out, cupping his face to keep him close, "Listen to me, I'm not afraid of you. I... I know you've never had a proper family growing up—both of us, actually—and... I can't help but wonder if you might hate the idea of starting one."

His heart swelled with understanding, realising he had momentarily let his earlier insecurities get the best of him. Of course, you were simply concerned about him. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips before murmuring tenderly, "With another person, I would hate the idea. But with you, my love, I want it all."

Feeling touched by his words, you realised you had never needed to overthink the situation. You should have known that his love and acceptance were unwavering.

Perhaps you had just been overwhelmed by the idea of a tiny life growing inside you—a product of your love with Seonghwa. The thought of having a baby, your baby, filled you with joy and apprehension. Neither of you had experienced a conventional family upbringing, and you feared whether you could provide the love and care this child deserved. Since the first moment you felt sick and figured you might be pregnant, endless questions floated around your mind.

Were you ready?

Was he ready?

What if he didn't want children?

But now, those fears seemed unfounded. As tears welled in your eyes, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and buried your face against his shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace. He held you close, peppering kisses all over your head, his love and warmth enveloping you. Through your tears, you whispered, "I love you, Hwa."

You could feel his smile against your skin as he leaned his head against yours, his voice soft and reassuring, "I love you more, my wife, and that'll never change."

In the days that followed, you found yourself hardly ever alone. Your husband seemed determined to stay by your side every moment, as if he hadn't already been doing so since he dismissed all his friends. Now, he was even more attentive and vigilant, always ensuring he was nearby to keep watch over you. And whenever he needed to retreat to his study for brief meetings with Jongho, Eunsook remained faithfully by your side.

Today was another one of those days when he had no choice but to attend to some work. He hadn't been attending the daily assemblies for a while, so the least he could do was go through some reports to stay updated on the latest happenings in court.

Meanwhile, the head maid remained by your side in your room. You sat with a cookbook in your hand, diligently trying to learn new recipes. As the saying goes, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and although you already had a hold on Seonghwa's heart, you were determined to work even harder to keep it safe with you.

"You've been quite busy lately, mistress, with cooking and embroidering. I think the master might be getting a bit jealous that you're not as focused on him as you are on these tasks," she joked, gently brushing your hair as she observed your focused expression.

With a playful giggle, you shot her a glance, "Is he really? Well, everything I do, I do it to be a better wife for him and a better mother to this little one," you said, smiling down at your growing bump.

Eunsook's expression softened, "I'm just kidding. I'm sure the master knows that," she reassured before pausing, "Mistress, have you both thought about baby names yet?"

At that, your eyes widened, and you set down the book in your hands, "Oh dear, we haven't. I've been so invested in everything else, it seems I might have overlooked the most important thing."

She chuckled, rubbing your back soothingly, "Don't worry, you still have plenty of time until the little one is born. Perhaps you and the master could start thinking about it now."

Later that night, as you lay in bed next to your husband, the words of the head maid lingered in your mind like a persistent whisper. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on your eyelids, you found yourself unable to sleep as your thoughts drifted towards potential names for the future baby Park. Each name you considered brought with it a flood of emotions and images of what your child might look like, how they would grow, and the kind of person they would become.

Sensing your slight movements, Seonghwa kissed your head softly, his voice gentle, "Are you still awake, my love?"

You grinned sheepishly, patting his chest, "I'm fine, Hwa. You go ahead and sleep. You must be tired."

But he sighed, gently sitting up with you still in his arms, ensuring the comforter covered you, "Not as tired as you. You're carrying a little person. Now, do you want to tell me why you're still not sleeping?"

Smiling shyly, you met his gaze, "I was talking to Eunsook earlier and realised... we haven't thought of any baby names."

His mouth formed an 'O' in realisation, mirroring your surprise. It seemed he, too, had not given it much thought. Nodding slowly, he whispered, "That's right, we haven't," pulling you closer to him, he relished the way your head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck, "So, what do you have in mind then? Have you managed to come up with anything with all that thinking, hm?"

You replied, nervously nibbling on your lip, "Actually, I have thought of a name. If it's a girl, Yeonjoo feels right."

He hummed, considering deeply, "Yeonjoo... like a lotus princess?"

You beamed, "Exactly. She'd be our little princess, growing up in the House of Lotus."

His heart swelled; your choice held significance. It wasn't just a random pretty name; it carried depth. Planting a kiss on your cheek, he smiled, "It's perfect. So, if it's a girl, Yeonjoo it is."

You cheered, "Okay, any ideas for a boy?"

He hesitated, then brightened, "You know what? I do have one in mind, though it might not be as thoughtful as yours. How about Jiyeong? It means a wise and brave hero, and it could also symbolise a flower petal, like the lotus. It'd be wonderful if he grew up to be intelligent and brave enough to protect his eomma," he murmured, gently placing his hand on your bump and stroking it.

"I think Jiyeong is a wonderful choice, Hwa, if it's a boy," you whispered, a sense of relief washing over you now that you finally had names for your child.

Covering his hand on your stomach with yours, you looked up at him with slightly wet eyes, "Gosh, can you believe we're going to be parents in a few months?"

"It's surreal sometimes, my love. And I'll admit, I am a little scared. But I know we'll manage. It won't be easy, but as long as we face it together, we'll be fine."

Yes, I know we will.

The first three months seemed to pass in a whirlwind, with Yunho's weekly visits becoming a familiar routine. Each time, he checked on your condition and brought herbs to boost your health and stabilise the pregnancy, ensuring everything progressed smoothly. Amidst this, life outside your little family continued to unfold.

You recall a particular evening when Wooyoung rushed in, desperate for your husband's aid to rescue a certain Miss Han. In a matter of weeks, she became a temporary resident in your household while still courting the private investigator. Her presence was delightful as she eagerly assisted you in cooking and embroidering, all while awaiting Wooyoung's eventual proposal that would take her away.

And through him, you learned of Hongjoong's latest job, assisting the youngest miss of the Baek family. It appeared to affect the dressmaker unexpectedly, stirring emotions no one had anticipated, especially him, even requiring a little nudge from both Seonghwa and Wooyoung to realise his feelings.

Before you knew it, you found yourself seated in the dining hall, surrounded by your husband's friends. Giving your hand a squeeze, Seonghwa cleared his throat to grab their attention, "Guys," he began, "we've gathered you all here today because we have an announcement to make."

Hongjoong, arms crossed, chimed in, "Pssh, I had a feeling. I knew you wouldn't be treating us to a meal for no reason."

Yunho's knowing grin widened, excited to see the dressmaker's reaction while Wooyoung leaned forward excitedly in his seat, nudging San beside him, who smiled back but inwardly wished the investigator would leave him alone. Mingi promptly set down his wine glass, eager to hear what was to come.

"I hope you're all excited because you're going to be uncles soon," the general announced, prompting cheers from everyone at the table.

The lovely Miss Han, seated beside you, wasted no time in giving you a side hug, though she had already been privy to your little secret. She had even been considerate enough to keep her man in the dark about it.

Wooyoung joined in the celebration, clapping enthusiastically, oblivious that his other half had been aware the whole time, "I knew it! I could tell she was pregnant from my first visit all those months ago. You've been so oddly careful with her ever since!"

At that, Hongjoong's expression darkened, "What do you mean, all those months ago? How far along are you, my lady?"

You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly, "Three months."

The dressmaker's jaw dropped in disbelief, "You didn't think to tell us until now? Park Seonghwa, what kind of friend are you?"

Yunho scoffed and rolled his eyes, "See, that's why you're an idiot. What does Miss Baek even see in you, I'll never know. Obviously, they wanted to wait until her condition was stable before telling everyone. Why do you think I've been so busy for the past few months?"

Hongjoong shot him a glare, "Oh, I don't know? Maybe because you've been trying to spend all your time with a certain Miss Ryu?"

The physician sputtered in shock, but before the argument could escalate, Jongho appeared behind them, smacking both on the back, "That's enough, you two. Please continue this another time."

Your husband interjected, shooting the assistant a grateful smile, "That's right. As Yunho mentioned, we just wanted to wait until it was safe before telling you guys."

San and Mingi softened, offering heartfelt congratulations to you and Seonghwa, prompting the rest of the guys to do the same. However, the peace was short-lived. Wooyoung eagerly raised his hand, "Ooh, can I please be the godfather?"

The dressmaker was quick to object, "Excuse me? If anyone here is to be the godfather, it's obviously me! Know your place, you fool."

"Oh, dear god, here we go again," your husband muttered beside you.

You couldn't help but grin at their endless shenanigans, glancing down at your stomach and rubbing it affectionately. You already knew this baby would be spoiled rotten even before entering the world. It seemed this little one was already the star of the show.

I contemplated how much of the pregnancy I should cover, but I think I'll only do this much for now! Because any further than this, and that might spoil some of the other members' spinoffs. I shall focus on finishing up all the rest of the stories after this, and who knows? There could be more bonus chapters in the future, we'll see~

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/6): Tumblr is a bitch and won't let me mention more than 5 users in a single sentence, so now my tag list looks like a complete joke🤡

@huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo |

@sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @skzline |

@itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @xoxkii @avantalem @famishalll |

@soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol |

@atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii |

@ddaeing @sansaurora9904 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo |

@puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks |

@aliona124754 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @1117promises @deltamoon666 |

@st4rhwa @hikarii02 @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @thunderous-wolf |

@minkiflwr @starssongs98 @kawaiikels @en-happiness @cheolliehugs |

@persnyako @startinystay @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina |

@kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja |

@idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @idfkeddieishot @yuyubun

#edenesth #the way to his heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 2 months

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Pairing : Han Jisung x F!Reader TW : anonymous friends to lovers type beat ; physical fighting ; reader is bullied ; angst ; fluffy ending ; Word Count : 8.9k A/N : Haven't even started writing this one yet but I know it's gonna take a bit, I hope the wait is worth it!! I hope that this is good! I kind of changed things a little bit, but I feel like it's still good... right? It has a k-drama feel to it... Not proof read!! Request : Anonny : Hello! If your requests are open can you write something for skz han? Where han is a popular person that everyone likes and he doesn't know the identity of reader but they are able to have really nice conversations. He thinks he found the person he's been talking to and starts dating them and reader agrees to help the person with talking to him. But han actually starts talking to reader and realizes that they were the person he fell in love with. Reader didn't tell him their true identity bc they were told he could never love someone like them. I hope that makes sense.

An anonymous chat room… What could possibly go wrong? It had started as a way for other students to get help with certain subjects without the judgment of their peers over not knowing enough. Soon enough, like most things, it had completely lost its original reason for being made, and now it was being used for anything but studying. There were chat rooms for dissing people, chat rooms for hooking up, and then there was the more… safe chat rooms, for people that were just lonely and wanting to talk, people that were too awkward or shy to have conversations face to face. Everyone had an online identity that no one else knew about… A different persona… It was scary… But sometimes it was nice to just… Talk to someone.

JiHizzy : Hey! You online?

Your phone vibrated with the message, and you couldn’t help but smile at the familiar sound of the notification. You had been talking to him for weeks now, and it was the one part of your day that you truly looked forward to.

JustAnotherGirl : Yeah! What’s up?

JiHizzy : Finally got back to my dorm. I was trying to study for finals…

JustAnotherGirl : I’m gonna guess that didn’t work out for you?

JiHizzy : Crazily enough, I ended up at the bar instead of the library.

JustAnotherGirl : I don’t know how you could possibly get the two confused lol

JiHizzy : It’s a friday night, I don’t think anyone was at the library. Weren’t you at the bar too? It was packed.

JustAnotherGirl : Mm… Nope! I don’t really party like that, I was too busy studying for my finals.

JiHizzy : Ooh, the innocent type? I like that.

JustAnotherGirl : Are you flirting with me?

JiHizzy : I might be… You know the acronym of your username is jag… all you need is I and you’d be jagi to me.

JustAnotherGirl : That must be the alcohol talking…

JiHizzy : Not at all. You’re just my type. I really want to meet you.

JustAnotherGirl : Oh, would you look at the time? We should get some sleep! Goodnight!

While it was supposed to stay an anonymous chat room, some people were just too popular to stay hidden longer than the first week. One of those people was JiHizzy, better known as Han Jisung, the most popular guy on campus simply because of his looks. All of the girls wanted him, and all of the guys wanted to be him. He was the top of the totem pole, and that put you at the very bottom.

If the two of you were to walk past each other on campus, he wouldn’t even spare you a passing glance… But with the promise of anonymity, you were able to talk to him every night. You were able to know what it felt like to be liked by someone like him. You could never meet him though, if he found out who you really were… He’d stop talking to you immediately. You didn’t want to lose him… Even if you didn’t truly have him.

///

JiHizzy : Are you in class right now?

In the silence of the classroom, the vibration of your phone was much louder than you thought it would be. Everyone turned to look in your direction, and you quickly grabbed your phone and placed it on your lap, hoping that if another message came in, it would be silent.

JiHizzy : I know you are, you’re such a good girl… WAIT DOES THAT SOUND WEIRD!? I’M SORRY!!

JiHizzy : I was just thinking that maybe… Maybe you could tell me what class you’re in…

JiHizzy : And I could get a glimpse of you… Or who I think is you… I just want to have a face to go with the name…

You held in your sigh as you felt your phone vibrate incessantly against your lap, chewing on your bottom lip as you attempted to focus on your studies, but it seemed like he wouldn’t let up unless you responded.

JiHizzy : PLEASE!!

JustAnotherGirl : Why is it so important? I like being anonymous… I like talking to you…

JiHizzy : Because I like you, and I can’t stop thinking about you, and I want to daydream about you…

JiHizzy : But it’s kind of hard to daydream about someone if I don’t know what they look like.

JustAnotherGirl : Well, daydream about what you think I look like. It’s probably better than how I really look anyway.

JiHizzy : You’re talking like I’ll stop messaging you or stop liking you if I meet you…

JiHizzy : You don’t think I’m that kind of person… Do you?

JustAnotherGirl : I don’t know who you are… But it’s just easier like this for me…

JiHizzy : Alright alright

JiHizzy : I’m sorry if I upset you…

JiHizzy : But hey! I heard that they’re releasing an update soon where we can actually talk to each other on the phone!

JustAnotherGirl : Can’t people tell who other people are by their voice?

JiHizzy : Idk… But I want to call you when it comes out. Can we at least do that?

JustAnotherGirl : Maybe… I’ll think about it… I have to study now. So do you!

JiHizzy : Right! Okay, I’ll message you later!

He daydreamed about you… He thought about you… You wondered what this image looked like, the girl that he thought you were. You were sure that it looked nothing like you, and it was better that way. He was so popular, you didn’t want to tarnish his image if he was even seen talking with you, let alone walking beside you… although you were sure that something like that would never happen.

///

When the call feature was released, everyone was so excited. People were testing it out as soon as their apps updated… But you were dreading it. Texting guaranteed staying anonymous, but hearing someone's voice, even if they didn’t know what you looked like, a voice was a way to identify someone. Even Jisungs voice, anyone and everyone could tell it was him coming if they heard him talking. His voice was distinct, it was his and his only. You didn’t know how distinct your voice would be, and the only thing you had going for you was the fact that you didn’t talk much at all.

A time that you’d usually be counting down to now had your stomach twisted up into knots, your knees folded up against your chest as you tried to think of anything but the inevitable phone call that you knew he would ask for. “What’s got you all worked up?” Your roommate asked as she walked into your room. As if things couldn’t get any worse, she just had to be back in at a normal hour.

Of course you had gotten paired up to dorm with the most popular girl on campus, it was just another way of lifes mysterious twists and turns supposedly. She was absolutely ruthless, and while you had asked to have your room changed at the beginning of every semester, it miraculously could never be done. As if college wasn’t hard enough, having to reside with her was just added stress.

“Fine. Ignore me. I didn’t want to talk to you anyway.” She mumbled, dropping down onto the ridiculously large and disgustingly luxurious bed that took up almost the entirety of her half of the room. She was rich, of course she was, and she took every opportunity to flaunt her wealth to everyone on campus, and you were no exception, you just got the brunt of it.

“I’m gonna take a shower real quick… Do you have to use the bathroom before I get in?” You asked, keeping your head down so she didn’t look at you like the peasant that you knew she thought you were. She scoffed loudly, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw her flick her wrist in the direction of the bathroom.

JiHizzy : You awake? Don’t tell me you’re sleeping already!

JiHizzy : You haven’t been online in 3 hours! Come onnnnn!

JiHizzy : Are you ignoring me?!?!?! :(

JiHizzy : Did I do something… Say something wrong?

JiHizzy : Ahhh… Maybe you are sleeping… Okay

JiHizzy : Goodnight! Sleep well!!

You never took your phone into the bathroom with you, not just because it seemed unsanitary or unhygienic, you also couldn’t afford to potentially drop it on the tile floor and bust the screen. Maybe you should have, but again, you didn’t think that your roommate would go through your phone. You were pretty sure that she wouldn’t even touch something that belonged to you. You had never been more wrong.

The vibrating of your phone had caught her attention, and maybe if it had only gone off once she would have ignored it, but Jisung was a spam texter. “Hmm…” She hummed to herself as she snatched your phone off the nightstand, and her curiosity quickly turned to annoyance when she saw just who had been texting you. “No way… There’s no way!” She shrieked, glaring at your phone.

As the story goes, the popular guy should automatically be with the popular girl… that’s how it always goes! She wouldn’t allow something like this to happen… It just couldn’t. She was being a good person, she had to look out for Jisungs reputation, that’s what it was. Luckily everything was anonymous, you were anonymous… He wouldn’t have to be embarrassed to like you… He wouldn’t even have to know it was you.

“What are you doing?” She was still holding your phone as you walked out of the bathroom, and your stomach dropped as you thought about what she could have been doing to your phone. Why would she even have it. “Look… I don’t touch your stuff, please don’t touch mine.” You mumbled as you scurried over to grab your phone out of her hand.

“Jesus, don’t have a tantrum.” She muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned her attention back to her own phone. “Maybe you should silence your notifications before leaving your phone unattended.” Her words only worried you more, prompting you to check what she could have been talking about, and you could feel the anxiousness creeping up further and further until it had taken you over completely.

She had seen the notifications, and you’d be a fool to think that she didn’t know exactly who it was that was messaging you. Would she tell him? It would be absolutely humiliating, it would destroy you, you couldn’t imagine the way he and his friends would react to finding out that it was you who he had been talking to. Should you tell her not to say anything? “I…” No… It might make her say something. Maybe she’ll forget about it in the morning. That would be the best case scenario.

“I think Han Jisung and I would be the perfect couple, right? I mean, we’re both popular, we’re both insanely attractive! That’s why I feel so bad for him, you know? It’s not like he’d willingly go for a complete loser, but this stupid anonymous app is really getting his hopes up.” You were right there, she knew exactly what she was doing, but she still had the audacity to look over at you with the fakest smile. “Were you saying something?”

“N-No…” You stammered, pushing yourself up off your bed and heading to the door. “I’m gonna take a walk, I’ll be back later…” She didn’t say anything to you as you left, simply laughing along with the multitudes of friends that she had on call. Had she told them? Were they all laughing at you? Of course they were, she was right… Why would he want to be with someone like you? You were a nobody, a speck of dust, no… Not even that. People notice dust… you were less than that.

But why didn’t you deserve to be happy, even if that meant staying behind the safety and security of your phone screen and a basic username? Were you not allowed to have anything? Not even some sort of happiness brought by anonymous interaction? Isn’t that how everything on the internet is nowadays anyway? No one really knows each other… So why is it such a big deal if you talk to him? Why should you be shamed for doing it the way you have been? Could you not even have this one thing?

Being outside was like a breath of fresh air, at least for a moment, but those thoughts brought on by the words of your roommate were suffocating. Should you even respond to him? He thought you were sleeping already… you could tell him you had been busy… His messages have the ability to help you feel better in an instant, and you needed that now. You clicked on the notification and quickly typed in your password to open the app, and not even a second passed before your phone was vibrating in your hand.

JiHizzy : Hey! There you are!

JustAnotherGirl : Hm… Were you just sitting and waiting for me to come online?

JiHizzy : and what if I was??

JiHizzy : you know I can’t sleep without talking to you first.

JustAnotherGirl : I didn’t know that though…

JiHizzy : well now you know! :D

JiHizzy : so… the call feature came out! I want to call you! Can I?

JustAnotherGirl : uhm… I don’t know…

JiHizzy : are you in your room? Is your roommate sleeping? I can talk quiet!

JustAnotherGirl : no… no it’s not that…

JiHizzy : I want to hear your voice… please? We can talk about anything! Anything you want!

JustAnotherGirl : I guess…

In a second your phone was buzzing, Jisungs screen name front and center on your screen. What a foolish feature this is, why not just give people your phone number if you’ll just talk on the phone? What’s next? Video calling? What if…? You would never do that… You couldn’t… He wouldn’t want to see you anyway.

Your hands shook as you accepted the call and brought your phone up to your ear. “Hehe, hey! Took you a bit to answer, I thought you’d just ignore me!” His voice came with a face, one that you could perfectly envision in your mind. His smile, the creasing of his eyes as he probably laid back against his pillow, one arm tucked under his head, perfectly at ease with everything. He was so lucky and he probably didn’t even realize it.

“Oh… uh… no. I was just… trying to find somewhere to sit.” You lied, looking around at the line of streetlamps that illuminated the sidewalks that led to different buildings. “H-Hi…” You stammered, and you knew exactly why you were flustered, why you were so nervous. Jisung was practically a GOD here, and you might as well have been an earthworm with how much lower you were than him. If anyone found out about this, you were sure that the both of you would be humiliated, but for vastly different reasons.

“You don’t have a couch or a bed or anything in your dorm?” He asked, and you felt stupid, this whole thing just felt insanely stupid. So what if you didn’t have a couch or a bed in your dorm anyway, not everyone was made of money! What was he going to do, judge you for it? “Well… Look, if you need help or anything… I-”

“I don’t need help.” You stated quickly, and you truly didn’t. Sure, you didn’t have a couch or a flat screen television in your dorm, but you had a bed, and that was more than what most people had, so you had no reason to complain. “I’m actually-” A particularly loud gust of wind whipped around you, the force so strong that you could almost hear it crackling in your speaker, and it whipped up freshly fallen leaves around you.

“Are you outside?” There was a slight panic in his voice, although you weren’t sure why. It’s not like you hadn’t braved elements far more atrocious than wind before. But then again, he didn’t exactly know you well. With the image he had in his mind of you, he probably thought you were too pretty, too perfect to be outside in the wind, potentially getting your hair messed up. “Did you go outside just to talk to me? I-If I knew you were going to do that, I would have just said to wait until a different day to call. I don’t want you to get ill.”

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Was he always this caring, or was he just pretending? Only the people closest to him would know, and you weren’t close to him at all. Surely to be as popular as he was, he’d have to be some kind of an asshole… That’s how the movies and the shows always depict the popular guys. They were too good for people like you… But… He didn’t know you were a person… A person like you. “It’s fine, really. I’ve walked home in thunderstorms before… A little gust of wind isn’t going to take me out.”

There was a sigh from his end of the call, and then the rustling of what sounded like sheets or blankets. “Well tell me where you are. You’re already out, and I wouldn’t mind walking a bit to come see you. I really want to know you… I can get my shoes on real quick and-” You hung up the call before he was finished, your breath held in your throat, and you didn’t let it go until you were certain the call was ended. It was rude, sure, of course it was… But why was he so god damn pressed on meeting you!? Why wasn’t this good enough for him too?!

JiHizzy : Did the call cut out? Was it the wind?? Are you okay!?

JiHizzy : If you don’t answer me, I’ll… I don’t know… I’m not a computer wizard but…

JiHizzy : I know people can trace things and… Please tell me you’re okay. I’m worried.

JustAnotherGirl : yeah… I’m fine…

JustAnotherGirl : my phone battery is dying…

JiHizzy : Oh! Okay!

JiHizzy : Get inside quick, please. Charge your phone and message me in the morning… yeah?

JustAnotherGirl : yeah…

JustAnotherGirl : Goodnight…

JiHizzy : Goodnight beautiful!

This was getting worse, it was only going to get harder… Maybe you should cut ties with him now… It would be better that way, wouldn’t it? It wasn’t paying off to selfishly keep him, basically trapped behind your phone screen because you were scared of the embarrassment that would come along with actually meeting him. You needed to let him go…

///

Your roommate was laying in bed, a sheet mask over her face and the bedside table lamp had been dimmed. She was sleeping, at least that’s what you thought, until the door latch clicked as you shut it and she jumped up. “What were you out doing, huh?” The questions immediately started, and you shook your head, going over to your bed and yanking back the blankets. “I know that you weren’t out with… him. He would drop dead before being seen with the likes of you, ya know?”

She snickered annoyingly, and you whipped around, your face scrunched up as you tried to keep the tears at bay. “How? How do you know that? How should I know that?! Do you know him?! Do you really know him?!” You asked, or, more like begged for her to give you the answers. You weren’t really sure why you were going to her of all people, maybe you were just desperate to hear that… that you would be good enough… Maybe not for him… But for someone.

The loud laugh that poured from her lips was like a gut punch, and you dropped down onto your bed, absolutely humiliated, devastated, you felt like a fool. “Listen… I’m gonna do you a favor… You know, since we’re… friends…” This was bound to be an awful idea, you were sure of it, but you felt like she was going to keep talking anyway and… It was beginning to feel like you didn’t have a choice. “I think it’ll be a win for both of us… So, I’ll meet him, as you… And you get to keep talking to him at night. He’ll fall in love with me and my beautiful looks, as everyone always does, and… Well, you won’t be lonely. How does that sound?”

It sounded terrible, it sounded awful, it was an elaborate ruse that surely no one would fall for… But… He wouldn’t ask you to meet him anymore… You’d still talk to him… She wouldn’t bother you or even have a reason to try to embarrass you on campus. You could stay hidden, it could work… It could really work. “Fine…” You mumbled, running your hands over your face, trying not to think too hard. “You… I don’t want to get involved too much with… What the two of you might do… But if he brings it up in the chat… You’ll have to… Tell me…” It was the last thing you’d ever want to know, but if this was going to work, you’d have to give him up just to have him still… It sounded crazy. You’d never have with him what she could… All you would ever be able to have are late night conversations, living out a fantasy through the tellings of your roommate and him. It would have to be good enough.

“Oh, don’t worry… I’ll tell you everything!” She clapped her perfectly manicured nails together, and you knew there was something sinister about it, but this felt like the only way. “Get some sleep, we have a lot of planning to do tomorrow. This is going to be great!”

///

“Where did you tell him to meet me… I mean… you?” She whispered, reading over your shoulder to try to see what the messages on your phone said. This was it… Today was the day… She’d probably tell him to delete the app since he finally met “you”. Was it worth it? Probably not… But you had been alone for the longest time before this all happened, you’d be fine with being alone after this as well. Nothing would change for you… But she would get everything she wanted… As if she didn’t have it all already.

“The… The fountain, at the center of campus…” You mumbled. Would he really think it was you? The two of you sounded nothing alike… But would he be able to pick up on that? Probably not, he didn’t seem like the type that really cared for things like that. He was so excited that you finally agreed to meet him, the messages were flooding in and she had been right there to read all of them.

JiHizzy : I’m on my way to the fountain now!

JiHizzy : I can’t believe this is finally happening… We’ve been talking for almost 4 months now…

JiHizzy : Isn’t this crazy?!?!

JiHizzy : I’m just a little nervous… I hope you don’t mind.

JustAnotherGirl : I don’t… I don’t mind at all…

Have fun… You thought to yourself as you stood at a distance, watching as Jooyi stood at the fountain, switching between sitting on the edge and standing every couple of seconds. She fumbled with the edge of her skirt, and fixed her hair, then checked her makeup. She was nothing like you… Would he be able to notice, even if you had only talked through text and occasionally on the phone? Was he able to tell your personality through little things like that?

Then you saw him, practically sprinting towards the fountain, it was like everything was in slow motion. Did he even know who to look for? Would Jooyi fit the image of you that he created in his mind? You leaned against the light pole, your phone clutched against your chest… One message and you could ruin this all for her… But it would cost you too much, and you would have nothing to show for it, nothing to gain. People like you weren’t made for people like him, he would never stoop so low as to even look in your direction. They were made for each other… Who were you to ruin things?

“Jisung!” You heard her voice ringing in your ears, and you looked up from the pavement to see her waving in his direction, and he paused. Did he know? You watched him closely, and you saw the smile slowly beginning to form on his face before he sprinted over to her. His arms wrapped around her waist in a tight hug, picking her up and spinning her around before setting her on the ground. It would never be you, that could never be you… You made two people happy today… It should feel good, but you felt sick, and you quickly turned away, rushing back to your dorm room. You didn’t have to be there to watch it, you’d hear all about it when she came back.

///

JiHizzy : It was… Wow…

JiHizzy : Finally meeting you in person! It’s amazing!

JustAnotherGirl : Yeah! I’m so happy that I finally got to meet you!

You sniffled softly as you looked over his messages. They wouldn’t be the same again, nothing would. He’d talk about everything that he did with “you”, and you’d just have to respond as if… as if it were truly you there. This… This deal… It wasn’t fair at all. It was just rubbing into your face everything that Jooyi got to do with him… And he was the one unknowingly telling you… She was evil… But she was a master at being just that.

JiHizzy : Well… Do you want to talk on the phone? I mean…

JiHizzy : We’ve already met each other and… I don’t know why…

JiHizzy : I could ask you for your number… But I don’t want to get rid of the app.

JustAnotherGirl : oh? Why?

JiHizzy : There’s just so many memories on here…

JiHizzy : Sometimes when I’m alone or sad… I go back through our messages. You really know how to make me happy…

JustAnotherGirl : Really…?

JiHizzy : Yeah… Really.

JiHizzy : Don’t tell anyone though! The guys would totally mock me for that.

JustAnotherGirl : I won’t… I won’t tell anyone.

Jooyi burst through the door, shopping bags lining her arms and she dropped them carelessly to the floor before falling back onto her bed, a loud, ear piercing squeal escaping her as she kicked her feet. “He’s so amazing! He’s so much cuter up close! He wants to take me on a date this weekend!!” She squealed again, and you felt disgusted. Did he want to take her on a date, or did he want to take you on a date? Was it her looks or was it your personality that he liked?

“I’m… Really happy for you, Jooyi.” You lied through gritted teeth. You hated hearing about it, you hated hearing her in general, but hearing her talk about him as if she was the one who had put in the work over four months to get him to like her… It was unfair. You faked a yawn and rubbed your eyes, acting tired just to be able to wipe your tears without her noticing. “I’m gonna go to the library and study. I’ll see you later.”

She was lost in her own world, but she sat up as you reached the door, your backpack slung over your shoulder and your hand on the doorknob. “Hey!” You put on a smile as you turned to face her, waiting for her to continue. “Did he message you? Did he talk about me? Hmm?”

You felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket, you knew it was him, but you shook your head. “Haven’t heard from him… Maybe he deleted the app… I don’t know. I have to study though, I’ll let you know if he does.” She sighed softly, letting her head fall back against the mattress, she was back in dreamland. Her whole life was a dream… And yours was a nonstop nightmare.

///

The library was practically empty when you walked in, you could hear every squeak of the floorboards as the one or two other students paced the shelves of books. You could almost hear the buzzing of the fluorescent light that hung over your head… You could hear… “Is this seat taken?” The man asked, and you looked up to see Jisung standing next to the chair that was across from you. It was strange, and you looked around at the vast amount of empty tables that filled the large building. Why would he want to sit with you? “I don’t like sitting by myself… I feel like it’s easier to study when I have someone sitting with me.”

Could he read your mind? Pfft, no! That’s impossible. “It’s not taken…” You mumbled, trying to keep your voice low, hoping that he wouldn’t recognize it from the phone calls. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how furious Jooyi would be if she found out about this. Maybe you should just leave. You could study another night. Then your phone vibrated against the table, your heart froze, and Jisung, who had been smiling at his own phone looked up at you.

“Heh… That��s a coincidence. I just sent a message and your phone vibrated!” He said rather cheerfully, and the way he looked at you, it was like he was expecting you to check it. There was no way in hell you’d do that though. You awkwardly giggled, shoving your phone into your backpack as you shook your head.

“Probably an email or something… It is… Ironic though…” You whispered, lowering your head even further into the textbook that you had opened. You felt his eyes linger on you though, like they were burning through you, and you didn’t know whether to feel flustered, nervous, or both those things and everything in between. “D-Do you need something? A pencil… Or-”

“I know you…” He said matter-of-factly, and it was like your throat closed up and your chest tightened. How did he know you? What was he talking about? He couldn’t possibly know you. “You’re the top student… You’re like, mega smart! I can see why now… Do you always study this late?”

Relief, a sigh of relief and a deep breath. You were safe… You shouldn’t overthink too much. “Mmn…” You nodded your head once but kept it bowed, trying to focus on the words in the textbook, but it was so hard. “Thank you…” You added, wondering if maybe that was what he was waiting for.

He chuckled softly, and then you felt the table shake as he dropped his own backpack on the table and started pulling out a bunch of notebooks. “You make it seem so easy. How do you just… Concentrate? It’s so hard for me to do.” He whined, and you looked around as his voice got higher and higher. “Oh… Sorry.” His voice dropped back down to a whisper and then he chuckled softly.

His laugh was contagious and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him, your hand clasping over your mouth to try to muffle the noise. “It’s easy… You just have to find the fun in it.” He rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you and you pursed your lips, trying not to laugh at his reaction. “Seriously. Here, let me show you.”

It was supposed to be a solo study session, honestly, it was just to try to get away from your roommate long enough for her to fall asleep. You never in your wildest dreams expected this to happen. It was like a scene straight out of a k-drama, but you also knew that after these types of scenes, things got bad. But you didn’t want to think about that right now… All you could think about was the way that he laughed with you, the way he smiled at you, the way he talked to you like you were a person and not just the dirt beneath his shoes.

“You remind me of someone.” He said nonchalantly as you both started packing up your books. You blinked a few times, your head tilting to the side as you waited for him to elaborate, but he was looking at his phone, his smile dropping slightly as he turned it off and slid it into his pocket. “Oh… It’s nothing. She must have just fallen asleep. She’s always so tired. She studies a lot… Kind of like you. Maybe you can tutor me… I’ll bring her too! That would be cool, right?” Cool… Not at all. It was the complete opposite of cool. That… That would never work.

“M-Maybe… I don’t know… I tutor a couple other people.” You came up with the lie quickly, and you hated the way his smile almost completely disappeared. Maybe you could make an exception… It’s not like he’d find out… Right? Jooyi would just have to act interested in studying. You were sure that if you told her, she’d be on board… “I’ll… I’ll see if I can schedule you in.”

And just like that, his smile was back and he was pulling his phone out again. “Awesome! Uhm, how about we exchange phone numbers and…” He trailed off when he saw the look on your face, and you were sure that you looked quite uneasy. There was no way that would go over well with Jooyi, she’d flip shit. “How about Anonny… You know the app, right? Everyone has it!” Oh shit… That was even worse.

“How about… We leave it up to fate.” His eyebrow arched, and you were really going out on a limb here with the excuses, but you had to protect yourself… Not just from him, but from Jooyi too. You didn’t have much to lose… But it was enough to have you terrified. “If we both manage to come to the library at the same time, if you see me here, I’ll tutor you. I usually come at night though… Just so you know.”

You bowed your head to him as you got up, putting on your backpack and heading out, and you could hear him following behind you. “I’ll be here. Every night. I’ll study on my own too… Thank you, for helping me.” You hummed in response, pushing open the main door and you were met with a rather brisk gust of wind that had you shivering and shoving your hands into your pockets. “Are you cold? Here…” He shimmied out of his top coat, placing it over your shoulders and smiling when he saw it on you. “You can return it to me next time fate brings us together, okay? Just stay warm, and get home safe.”

For fucks sake…

///

JiHizzy : Hey, whatcha up to?

JiHizzy : It’s been like… 3 hours… Are you mad or something?

JiHizzy : You must be sleeping… I just feel like somethings wrong…

JiHizzy : Let me know when you get this message… Okay?

Your roommate was fast asleep when you finally got in, and you quickly took off Jisungs coat and slid it under your bed, safe for now at least from the prying eyes of Jooyi. As you curled up under your blankets, ready to just fall asleep, ready to let yourself drift off into a world where you didn’t have to pretend and you didn’t have to lie to the man who had sat across from you in the library when there were so many tables to choose from. The man who smiled at you and made you feel like you were the only person in the room. Then your phone vibrated once more from under your pillow.

JiHizzy : I was studying tonight… I know how important it is to you and… I wanted to do it. JiHizzy : I met someone there, she reminded me of you a lot!

JiHizzy : I hope these aren’t waking you up… I know you’re sleeping.

JustAnotherGirl : I was at the library too. We must have just missed each other…

JiHizzy : NO WAY! Dammit! Well…

JiHizzy : I was thinking that we can do study dates. Wouldn’t that be cool?

JustAnotherGirl : It would. I really like that idea.

JiHizzy : Awesome! Okay!

JiHizzy : Goodnight cutie!

Study dates… That’s how you had looked at tonight, or you were just delusional. If tonight had happened sooner… Would you have taken Jooyi up on her deal? He seemed to be just fine with you… He wasn’t embarrassed, he wasn’t ashamed to be sitting across from you and laughing with you… Would he have liked you still if he knew who you really were?

///

“So, how was your night last night? You got home safe?” Jisung asked and you heard Jooyi giggle loudly, it was so fake, it made you sick. He was such a genuine person, and she was nothing but a stuck up little-

“My night was wonderful! I went shopping for our date this weekend. I can’t wait for you to see the outfits I picked out!” You sank down onto the bench. Shit… You hadn’t told her… What would happen now?

“Sh-Shopping?” He questioned, and you wanted to crawl under a rock. You wanted to hide from her and the wrath that you knew was bound to be coming your way. “I thought you were studying? You said… You said you were at the library…”

She went silent, and even though you were outside, you could feel the tension in the air. “Did… Did I say shopping?! Oh my gosh, I meant studying! I’m a big nerd! You know me!” She laughed again, but this time there was something else… Nervousness? Irritation? Anger? She’d be looking for you.

“You’re acting weird… Are you okay?” He asked, and she scoffed loudly. Should you spare a glance and risk meeting eyes with her? “Were you just… Lying about studying? Was it to try to… Impress me? You know you don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t. I’m impressive enough!” She said loudly, it’s like she enjoyed making scenes. She was disgusting. “I have to go really quick, I forgot my big ol’ textbook back at my room. I’ll meet up with you later? We can have lunch!”

“Y-Yeah… Sure…” Something had changed… He wasn’t buying it anymore. But you didn’t have time to worry about that. Jooyi was looking for you, and you were tired of being scared of her. You were tired of worrying about what she’d do or what she’d say about you. Jisung liked you, even if just as a friend… You had been made clear of that last night at the library. She couldn’t even make it one day… The two of you were just too different, and he had noticed. You weren’t sure what would happen next, but you weren’t going to hide away, you weren’t going to give in. You deserved to be happy… You might not have the money, you don’t have the luxuries, but you have the willpower, and you have the drive… And that was worth way more than what her money could ever buy.

“I need to talk to you… Now.” As if like magic, she appeared in front of you. She was angry, no doubt, but there was nothing she could do to hurt you. So you got up, following her off to the side of one of the buildings, and before you could say anything the palm of her hand connected with your cheek. “You bitch! You said that you’d tell me when he messaged you! Was this your plan?! To humiliate me in front of him!”

Now it was your turn to scoff, your turn to laugh, and while the sting in your cheek hurt, it didn’t hurt as much as knowing that you almost let him get away, you almost let him get stuck with someone like her. “I didn’t have to plan it for it to work out like this. You humiliated yourself. He isn’t your type… Deal with it.”

“You…” She started, but it quickly turned to a scream, one filled with pure rage as she started grabbing at the pockets of your jacket. “Give me your phone! He doesn’t want you! He wants me! You’re nothing! You’re poor and you’re pathetic and you’ll never have him! Why would anyone want you!” She just… screamed… She screamed so loud, and with every attempt to grab at you, you swatted her hands away, backing up further and further until you bumped into something… or… someone. “Oh! Jisung!” She full stopped, adjusting her hair and putting on the fakest smile.

“What are you doing?” He asked, looking between you and Jooyi. “What are you talking about?” His eyes focused on you a lot longer, as if studying you, and you felt the heat of his gaze, but it didn’t burn, it just made you feel warm, it made you feel safe. “Why do you want her phone?”

Jooyi was stuttering over herself, unable to form a coherent sentence as her head shook violently. “She… Sh-She’s blackmailing me, Ji! She stole my username on Anonny… She’s pretending to be me so that she can get with you… So she can take you away from me!” She whined, and you couldn’t help but look disgustedly at her. She truly was the queen of scenes, stomping her feet and throwing a tantrum like a child would. How pathetic.

“My… tutor… Is blackmailing… You?” He questioned, and her eyes widened before turning her daggers towards you. “What’s your name on Anonny? If she stole it from you… What is it?” You didn’t have to do anything, he was putting all of the pieces together for himself. You weren’t sure what would happen once the puzzle finally came together… And maybe it wouldn’t work out for you… But to see her get knocked down to size, it made it all worth it.

“I-It… My Anonny name? You know it! You tell me what it is!” She said, and you knew why, she was trying to get him to say it… But he was smarter than that. He shook his head, letting out a disappointed chuckle, and then his attention was back on you. “Don’t! Don’t look at her! Look at me! You love me!”

“Do I?” He whispered, but he never looked away from you, his head tilted and a small smile on his face. “What’s your Anonny username?” He asked, and you felt the heat rising inside of you. This was your chance, your moment, you didn’t know where it would lead you to, but it was time.

“I’m… JustAnotherGirl… Just another girl that has a crush on you… That gets overlooked and forgotten. But I’m here… And I’ve been here for four months…” You murmured, and he let out a shaky gasp. Was he embarrassed? Was he ashamed that you were the girl he had been talking to for so long? “I’m sorry. I’m not popular, I’m not even close to rich. I don’t have much to give… But-”

“But you’re perfect…” He stepped closer to you, causing you to stumble back as your breath hitched in your throat. “You’re smart, and you’re sweet… You’re kind and you’re genuine. You’re not materialistic, you’re just… You’re wonderful, you’re wonderfully you…” His hand reached up, his knuckles brushing lightly against your cheek. “You’re the girl that I fell in love with…”

“WHAT!!?” Jooyi screeched from behind you, and before you knew it, you and Jisung were being pushed apart. “Are you serious right now?! Her?! She’s… She’s a roach! She’s vermin! I can’t believe you right now! Have you seen me?!”

“Sadly.” Jisung retorted, and it took everything in you not to laugh, but everyone that had gathered around to see what was going on laughed enough for you. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t talk about my girlfriend like that.”

“G-Girlfriend?!” Jooyi scoffed, running her hands through her hair. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Just… When you lose all your friends because you’re with a loser, don’t come crawling back to me! Have fun being not popular!”

“I think it’s time for us to go, don’t you?” He asked, completely ignoring her now as he draped his arm over your shoulder. “You want lunch? Anything you want, it’s on me.”

///

HanJi : I’ll be at the library soon. I’ve got hot cocoa!

Beautiful Wonderful Girlfriend : Don’t drive too fast, the snow is really coming down now…

“I know it is…” His voice came from behind you, and then the cups of hot cocoa were placed in front of you on the table. “It’s really pretty, isn’t it?” You glanced out the window, awestruck at just how beautiful campus could look when blanketed in dazzling white snow. “You brought your coat, right?”

You nodded your head, patting the chair beside you where the coat that he had given you almost 2 years ago was neatly hanging over the back of the seat. “It’s your coat… You just won’t let me give it back.” You teased, and he let out a soft sigh as he dropped down into his seat. He hadn’t changed a bit since the first time you both sat at this table together.

It was strange how time worked, it felt like forever ago, but you remembered it like it had happened just yesterday. “It’s our coat, babe. What’s mine is yours.” He sounded so serious, but you couldn’t help but laugh at the statement. He was talking like the two of you were… Married? Your laughter subsided as you stared at him across the table, your lips parted slightly as you let out a quiet breath.

“You’re funny…” You said sheepishly, turning your attention back out the window, focusing on the snowflakes that danced down from the sky, finding the perfect place to rest. “We’re not married, our things don’t have to be shared…” Even though you both had been together for two years and he was the sweetest, most loving boyfriend you had ever had… You still couldn’t get those words out of your head. The words from the past that had been uttered by the girl that had wanted to take your place… He would never want to be with someone like you…

“Yet…” He murmured, the word like a breath leaving his lips. You blinked a few times, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks, your heart thumping loudly in your chest. Did he really love you that much? Could someone really love you that much? Were you deserving of this much love, to be with someone like him? “What are you thinking about, babe?” He cooed, reaching across the table to grab your hands that were folded on top, his thumb brushing lightly across your knuckles.

“I’m just…” You began, feeling the familiar sting of fresh tears beginning to brim in your eyes, but it was slightly different this time… They weren’t tears of sadness or fear… You were happy. “I’m so lucky… And… I never thought I’d be with someone so amazing… So perfect…” You could barely get your voice above a whisper, your throat closing up from trying to hold back your tears.

“Mm…” He hummed, pushing away from the table and getting up, walking around to your side of the table and grabbing your hand. “Let’s take a walk… yeah?” One more glance out the window and you saw the snow creating almost a wall of white as it came down harder, but there was no wind, it was just… beautiful. “I’ll keep you warm, don’t worry.”

You nodded your head, grabbing the coat and slipping it on, the scent of his cologne, although faded, still brought you comfort when you put it on. “Where are we going?” You quizzed, slipping your fingers between his as you both walked out of the library. You were sure that nothing would be open, not with this weather.

“Anywhere… I just… I want to walk with you.” He said, his voice kind of shaky, like his nerves had gotten the better of him. He led you aimlessly through campus, and you followed right along beside him. You didn’t really care where you were going, as long as you were with him, you’d follow the path he was taking blindly with your hand in his. “I’ve been thinking a lot about how I’ll do it…”

Was he talking to you or was he just thinking out loud? You looked to him, the snowflakes catching on your eyelashes as you tried to read him, but he was looking straight forward, his lips turned up into a lopsided smile. “How you’ll do what?” Even though you were speaking softly, the silence that surrounded you made every word sound so loud.

“Propose.” He sounded so calm, but the singular word alone had you pausing, pulling him back so he would face you. “What? Can I not think about how I’m going to propose to my wonderful, beautiful, amazing, sweet, lovely-“

“Okay okay!” Even after 2 years, you still weren’t the best at taking compliments, especially when he was looking at you so intently. “Why are you thinking about that right now? We’re still in college and… I want you to focus on graduating. So we can both be successful. You know?”

His hand slipped out of yours and then his arm snaked around your waist as he started walking again, pulling you along with him. “I can focus on graduating, and I can focus on you. I’ve been doing it since the day I truly met you… the real you.” He chuckled quietly, the sound building in his chest as his head shook. It was funny now, to look back on everything that happened. “And I like thinking about the future, it makes me happy to know that I’ll be spending it with you. But you don’t have to worry about me proposing in college… I wouldn’t want everyone to see. I want it to be a moment for us to remember.” You hummed softly, leaning against his shoulder as you simply listened to him, you let him get lost in his thoughts because you didn’t mind getting lost in them either. They had you looking forward to a better, simpler time where the two of you would be able to be together without worrying about grades and finals. “Flower petals will line the path that I’ll take you down…” He murmured, and your eyes were focused on his face, not noticing the trail of pink and red in the snow. “A gazebo, with fairy lights twinkling brightly, shining in your eyes…” He continued, sighing softly. “Nobody is around, the snow is falling, you look absolutely stunning against the backdrop…”

“A winter proposal?” You asked, and you were so lost in his thoughts and your own that you hadn’t even noticed how far you had walked until he was leading you up the stairs of a white wooden gazebo, perfect icicles hanging off the roof of it, and… fairy lights illuminated the inside. “Ji…” You whispered his name, a tuft of smoke coming from your mouth as you breathed it out. His arm left your waist and he kneeled down in front of you, his cheeks a dark pink from both the cold and his nerves. “You said… You said you wouldn’t propose when we were still in college…”

He snickered, fishing a black velvet box out of his pocket, his snow dampened hair curtaining his eyes as he kept his head down. “I meant… not while we were in the college. We’re not on the grounds anymore…” He finally looked up at you, and you let out a shaky gasp as it truly set in what he was doing. “I don’t want to wait any longer, I know that you’re the one that I want to spend all of my life with. I’ve never felt more comfortable with anyone else. I love you, I’ve known that I loved you since before I even… before I even knew you. I wake up every morning and thank everything that you’re mine, and I fall asleep every night knowing that no matter what, everything will be okay because I have you by my side. I don’t care what anyone thinks, I don’t care what people might say… I only care that you’re happy… And if you say yes, I promise… To do my best to make you feel happy and loved every single day until the day that I die.” He opened the box, and the diamond facets of the silver ring glistened and reflected the lights that had been strung up. “So… Will you… Will you marry me?”

You choked out a sob, dropping to your knees in front of him as you nodded your head yes, and he quickly pulled the ring out of the box, his hand shaking as he slid it onto your finger. “Ji…” Was all you could say as you looked at the ring, cold, yet so beautiful in its place. His chilled hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your head so that your eyes would meet his. “I love you…”

“And I’ll always love you.” He leaned in, kissing you softly and humming against your lips. “Shall we go back inside and warm up, my beautiful, lovely, wonderful, amazing-“

“Stop~” You playfully whined, giggling quietly as you dropped your gaze once more. “You’re so cheesy…” You mumbled, and then you felt his lips against your forehead, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face.

“And you’re… You’re everything to me…” He pushed himself up to his feet, carefully pulling you up and then hugging you tightly. “Thank you, for making me happy, for loving me… I can’t wait to marry you."

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suiana · 2 months

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(Any)Yandere x reader with immortality

(yandere! baker x gn! immortal reader)

he sees you come into his shop every day. sometimes with an old lady, sometimes with a young kid, but most of the time you're alone.

it's an every day type of thing to him. prepare the shop, display the goods, greet some customers and then feel his heart race as he sees you enter the store to get the same order of bread you've ordered since you first entered his shop.

it's the same every day. you come in, pay for your bread, smile at him then leave. nothing's changed. not even physical changes.

he wonders how you maintain your beauty, having served you delicious baked goodies since... ten years ago? you look as youthful as ever. not having aged a day since you started frequenting his bakery.

but who is he to judge? you're just a wonderful customer of his that he has a little crush on... right? until you weren't. right, of course you weren't. because tell him why he's seeing your name in these old books he found in his grandparent's diaries?

an ethereal being, one who never ages, they've stolen my heart forever more.

upon reading that line in his grandmother's diary, he immediately comes to a conclusion. geez, you were an immortal? no wonder you haven't aged a day since he first saw you. there's literally no other logical conclusion other than the fact that you couldn't die. well, other than maybe botox or plastic surgery. but even then people would still age! not like you where you look completely the same.

so he tries questioning you the next day. not upfront of course. he tries asking your age and date of birth... to which you simply smile and nod at him before leaving.

but he won't give up! he's not a loser like that! he must know! so he tries again and again, enquiring into your life and even giving up and just straight up asking about your status as an immortal. however, you always leave him hanging, giving him vague answers like "oh it's been a long time since then... my parents passed early on..."

he's getting more and more irritated as the days go by. and he's getting no younger too. plus, the fact that you have an effect on him, one where... he feels strangely compelled to obsess over your every move, doesn't help either.

can you blame him for taking such drastic measures like stalking you? you're not giving him the answers he wants so he'll just have to find out himself, right? maybe you're just teasing him and want him to work for the answer, right?!

that's what he tells himself at least. that way he can feel better about himself when he breaks into your house filled with antiques, adoring the way you saved portraits of yourself over the centuries... and even staining one with some... white fluid.

he swears it's not his fault. he just wants to find out more about you, you know? you're so enigmatic, so charming and alluring. how can you blame him for being obsessed with you?

so please don't be mad at him when you find yourself locked up in his room. he really only wants to find out more about you. if only you gave him more straightforward answers, then maybe this wouldn't have happened!

really, he only ever wanted to know more about you :( he swears on his life that he's not just some crazy stalker who's obsessed with everything you do!

#suiana's sinners #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #yandere baker #yandere baker x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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ineffable-suffering · 6 months

Text

The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie

Otherwise known as (*takes a deep breath*): A completely inflated close-up look at various dialogues and events of Season 2 that prove that the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Meeting Cotillion Ball was supposed to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley

Look, the point's been made before but that's never kept me from making it myself again, still. In fact, even I made it before, at the end of one of my other metas. But I feel like it's absolutely worthy enough to get its own soppy, way-too-long post. And I do love it so very much to write ridiculously long essays on something that could easily be condensed into a short paragraph.

So, here we go! Snuggle up, get cozy, settle in and, most importantly:

(Word count: 3.177 | Reading time: ~13 minutes)

As I already said above, I laid out a similar case in my meta about why Aziraphale is somewhat of an unreliable narrator. I'll try and recycle it here briefly, so I can further make my point.

When Aziraphale arrives back in London from his Edinburgh journey, he seems oddly happy and giddy for the fact that he just had a rather odd and threatening encounter with Shax. I explain in my other meta that this is because he just spent the last hours of his drive reminiscing on the thrilling and romantic magic show adventure of 1941 and also the fact that he just found out that Crowley has been replaced by Shax and no longer works for Hell.

Ergo: We have a hopelessly lovesick Principality at our hands, who's practically swooning over his serpent who saved him, his books and his magic show all those years ago.

Ergo:

✨This✨

Realistically, Aziraphale should probably be a tad worried about the eery encounter with Shax, in which she definitely had the upper hand on him. But well, if you spend many-a hours driving across the serene countryside (Edinburgh is about an 8-hour drive from London), pondering on one of the craziest, sticky-sweet romantic adventures of your not-life life, well ... things tend to turn a little rosy around the edges. Head in the clouds and all that. Light shades of grey!

Alright, onwards: Once the angel, filled to the very brim with fond memories and butterflies, gets out of the Bentley, he's kindly met with a face full of verdant plants and a very in-character-grumpy Crowley.

Fhwack! Way to burst the rosy bubble.

Seriously, the absolute lightning speed with which Crowley storms out to vacate the bookshop the very second Aziraphale arrives makes me giggle every time.

Let's make a first small (who am I kidding) diversion into analysing the following conversation in unnecessary detail ...

... simply because I enjoy quoting dialogue as an accurate reference in my metas. I'll also highlight certain passages I want to comment on in individual colours so I can back up my thoughts with them below. Alright, their little chinwag goes as follows:

Crowley: "They you are! I was worried something might have happened to you." Aziraphale: "No, nothing happened to me. Very uneventful journey indeed. No strange things at all." Crowley: "Good. That's what we wanna hear." Aziraphale: "Um .. everything okay with- ah.." *nods to the bookshop* Crowley: "Oh, yeah, fine. He's singing to himself. I think he must have been asleep. I heard snoring coming from his bedroom–" Crowley, to the Bentley: "Did you miss me? I bet you did." Aziraphale: "... I'm sure it did." Crowley: "So, any more clues from the mystery of the missing archangel?" Aziraphale: "Not exactly. Or, if there are, I haven't yet cracked the case. But I'm certainly hot on the trail of something." Crowley: "I'm sure you are. Oh, by the way, the whole sudden rain and awning thing was a complete washout." Aziraphale: "Sorry?" Crowley: "You know, project making Nina fall in love with Maggie. I failed, it's your go." Aziraphale: "I see. Well then, Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Monthly Meeting, here we come!" Crowley: "You're really hosting the meeting?" Aziraphale: "Absolutely! And I can guarantee you, it will be a night to remember."

At first glance, this has little to do with the plot of this meta but actually, it folds into my point very nicely! However, it's not time for that yet, so we'll just state the facts as they are for now and then bring them back 'round later when we need them. That being said: For the love of Someone, will these two ever manage to simply tell each other the truth of what happened instead of thinking they can protect each other by lying about it all the time? Hrmpf. As a big fan of open communication myself, I'm close to developing a stomach ulcer with the amount of false truths being spewed here. (Then again – and yes, that is another, way larger meta I'm currently cooking up – it plays so very perfectly into the whole Jane-Austen-Pride-and-Prejudice tragic miscommunication theme that this entire Season has, so I understand the point of it.)

Very uneventful journey indeed, Aziraphale, except for the fact that you were ambushed by a demon who told you she was Crowley's successor, knows about the rumors of the two of you being an item as well as what went down in 1941 (that almost had both of you exposed) and also seems to have figured out where you and your demon boyfriend are hiding Gabriel, all in the span of about a minute. No strange things at all, nooo!

And Crowley's "Oh yeah, fine" is a total lie too. Again, we see him make an absolute run for it before Aziraphale can even enter the bookshop. After all, he just once again witnessed Jim have a Gabriel-flashback, speaking of the Second Coming, while Crowley was alone with him. As fumingly angry he is with the amnesiac archangel – he's also absolutely terrified of what might happen (to him and Aziraphale) should Jim regain his memories. So, no wonder he's quick to vacate the premises after witnessing Jim's rather eery memory flashback (and was, just like Aziraphale, threatened by Shax mere moments later, lol).

But no, nothing out of the ordinary happened to either of them. Tip-top. Absolutely tickety-fucking-boo.

Alright, let's get back on track with the actual topic of this meta. Certainly hot on the trail of something, hm? At first glance, it might seem like Aziraphale is talking about the fact that Gabriel was in company of someone whenever he went to the Resurrectionist Pub. (The clue!) However, I don't actually think he is talking about that. Why? Because, and this slipped my mind too at first, he never actually follows any of this information up, does he? Yes, sure, he went to Edinburgh, found the capital-c Clue and then returned to London. But what does he do with it? Nothing. He doesn't keep investigating this hot trail because that's not the important thing he realized during his journey. No, the more important clue Aziraphale found during his trip, is that Crowley no longer works for Hell and that he is also very much irrevocably in love with him and must confess this at the earliest given chance. (The latter part isn't necessarily a new discovery for Aziraphale, but it surely is fuelled by the fact that he just realized Crowley's out of a Hellish job and simply hasn't told him yet.)

This exchange just the perfect indicator for the fact that Aziraphale, at no point during his drive back, was thinking about the Maggie and Nina mission. He has no idea what Crowley is talking about once he mentions it and seems surprised, even, that he would. Even though they just talked about it on the phone when Aziraphale was still at the graveyard. Which is another important piece of evidence because it means that the last status update Aziraphale got of Mission Lovebirds, was that Crowley had sensed an opportunity to make them fall in love – and had then hung up on him. Why is this important? Because it means that until that very point of their conversation, Aziraphale did not know that Crowley's attempt had failed! There would have been just as much of a chance of Crowley's weather miracle actually working out and Maggie and Nina already having skipped into the sunset happily ever after.

So, riddle me this:

Why would Aziraphale spend the entire ride back from Edinburgh plotting "a night to remember" (because clearly, he already had the entire Ball planned out down to a T in his head since he goes into action right away after arriving) if he didn't even know yet that Crowley's attempt had failed?

To be very clear here: We're not talking about Aziraphale driving on the M1 to London, having a silly little idea for putting on some good music, miracle-ing Nina and Maggie to dance to it and watch them confess their love–

No.

He planned an entire actual Cotillion Ball with very particular location design that involves re-arranging the entire bookshop, specifically designed individual outfits for (almost) every single attendee, topped off with a live band, hors-d'œuvre, drinks and an actual choreographed group dance.

During one car ride.

Where's the party planner Aziraphale AU? I'm waiting!

Now, sure, we know that it's still quite important for Aziraphale to convince Heaven of the faux-reason they gave for their accidental ✨25-Lazarii miracle✨. But if we're all honest, this all seems to be a tad much just to make two random humans fall in love, even for that.

Glittery ball gowns and suits? Red and gold wall curtains? A modified language filter? Bloody vol-au-vents?

Talk about over the top ...

Once we start S2E5, Crowley is still surprised at the mere fact that Aziraphale is actually planning to organize the Monthly Meeting – and he doesn't even know yet that it's gonna be the most extravagant ball-boogaloo that the Whickber Street Community has ever seen! Aziraphale wanting to organize the meeting alone, is enough to render Crowley incredulous, because Aziraphale never mingles with the other shopkeepers. He usually actively avoids them and any sort of social encounters as much as he can because he doesn't care about the bloody Christmas lights, alright?

These things seem mundane and uninteresting to him, obviously, since all he really cares about is hoarding his book collection in peace like the little hedonist he is and drawing as little attention as possible to his none-business business.

Oh, right, speaking of books:

Let's take another unnecessarily detailed look at the whole Whickber Street invitation scene:

Aziraphale realizes very quickly that he's not the only one who's quite unenthusiastic about the blessed Chritsmas lights. And despite his very persuasive methods of temptation ...

... he has to take some more drastic measurements. And those are?

That's right: Giving away his books.

I'll repeat it again, slowly: Aziraphale is willingly (!) giving away or lending his books to pretty much complete strangers to, allegedly, make two other humans strangers fall in love.

Seriously, who is that angel and what has he done with our prim, fussy, hedonistic Aziraphale that protects his books with the vice grip of an eagle carrying his precious prey?

Believe in the importance of Mission Lovebirds as much as you will, but we're talking about Mr. A.Z. Fell here who, over the past millennia, has pretty much spent every day actively working out methods to stop people from purchasing as much as a single paperback from his holy shelves.

And yet: the 1965 September Dr. Who Annual? Given away. The first edition of Expert at the Card Table that was S. W. Erdnase's personal copy? Lent away to grubby human hands to fondle around with.

Let's do another coloured dialogue diversion (don't worry, it's not as extensive as the last one):

Crowley: "You just did what I think you did?" Aziraphale: "I'm not prepared to talk about it." Crowley: "You gave away a book." Aziraphale: "I had to! Maggie and Nina are depending on me. They just don't know it yet."

Crowley backs up my point: This is a huge deal. Aziraphale does not sell his books – let alone give them away for free. We're all shocked! Flabbergasted!

And the explanation Crowley and us get just ... doesn't satisfy. Something and someone sure is depending on this Ball and doesn't know it yet. But it's most definitely not Maggie and Nina, folks.

You know for whom Aziraphale would give away his books in the blink of an eye, though?

Mhm, that's right.

This pretty old serpent.

I want to take a minute to show you the reaction again that Aziraphale has upon entering the very same magic shop him and Crowley went to in 1941 to acquire the Bullet Catch:

You ... you need a minute there, angel? You're sure looking a little ... affected.

And I mean, well, no wonder. He reminisced about that very memory four hours last night. To him, this shop is where the most turbulent, ecstatic, adrenaline-fuelled and romantic night of his life began. And it shows.

I've made my point in my other meta series about how Aziraphale is an incredibly nostalgic character. He romanticizes so many things in his memories – especially the parts that feature Crowley. So, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that he's once again willing to loosen the tight grip he has on his book collection to get the successor of Will Goldstone's Magic Shop, the shop that started it all for him, to come to his fancy Ball.

As we watch Aziraphale and his little lap dog demon pat around Soho, I'd like to take another second to point out that he goes to seven or more establishments before he even invites Nina.

... and he only does so because she starts talking to them on the street. Almost like he'd forgotten about it. Why not ask her at the very beginning? To establish whether or not he'd have to book-blackmail her too?

"Perfectly ordinary invitation with no hidden agenda of any kind", except that he's using you and Maggie as a pretence to resolve his own clusterfuck of a relationship-miscommunication Jane-Austen-style so that he can then hopefully confess his undying love to his demon not-boyfriend boyfriend.

Marvellous!

You'll forgive me another short diversion but my God, the whole exchange at the Marguerite's restaurant with Crowley literally cat-call-whistling Aziraphale over to him (and Aziraphale checking if he meant someone else first, I–)? I am weak. So, so weak and

However, this is also when we get a snippet of Crowley finally revealing the truth in place of his "Oh, he's fine"-lie earlier and telling Aziraphale that he's actually pretty scared Jim might turn back into Gabriel and smite him altogether. And Aziraphale's response is, in a cosmic sense, (remember the pink paragraph now) so hilarious:

"Have you thought of just talking to him?"

Yeah, have you? Have any of the two of you? Just thought about talking? To each other? About anything?

'pparently not. But hey, it's all good because remember what the ultimate remedy for star-crossed lovers simply misunderstanding each other is?

Bish, bash, bosh, problem solved!

Back at the ballroom bookshop, Aziraphale sends Crowley to invite Maggie in order to, in my opinion, not spoil the Ball-y surprise for him. (Inviting Maggie only now?! Wouldn't she be one of the only two guests who really should attend? Why the short notice? If she's really that important for the Ball you're planning, hm?)

On top of this, we see Nina almost not attending the Ball meeting after her partner broke up with her and Crowley being the one who coincidentally runs into her and ushers her into the bookshop before Shax and her "legion" of demons start creeping up on them. Again, if this hadn't happened by pure coincidence, Nina would have left to go home and this whole Ball would have taken place without her, rendering the apparent sole purpose of making her fall in love with Maggie useless.

Why doesn't Aziraphale care more for both of them to attend and be there? Why is he instead busy fussing over everything looking perfect and wonderful and doesn't even seem to notice that both Nina and Maggie are really late to the meeting?

Well. Well.

The answer's in the title, babes.

Alas, Crowley safely gets Maggie and Nina to join them, Mr. Brown is the only one who doesn't get a miracled outfit (fussy, petty angel, you just don't like him, do you?), Jimbriel stuns with glamour and flirt (and whatever sexually suggestive thing he does with his cheeks) and the Whickber Street Ball is a-go!

Sorry, I just had to chuck this in again because Crowley's face here absolutely kills me every time. He looks so confused, I am hollering.

And the heart eyes Aziraphale is making at Nina and Maggie now that they're actually here?

Oh, bless it, angel.

He's all like "Oh look, it's working! Jane was right! It's all going to be resolved, all the misunderstanding and quarrels! Crowley, where's Crowley–"

Ah yes, there he is.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is an angel who is not listening to a single word being said right now. No, in his head, Aziraphale is already down on one knee, pouring his heart out to Crowley after they just danced the night away.

Oh, yes, right. The dancing.

Parallel much?

But well, as marvellous and beautifully romantic as her stories tend to be, it turns out that Jane Austen isn't always right after all. Because before we know it, the perfect night shatters into many-a tiny pieces (literally).

And once again, fhwack:

... the rosy bubble bursts.

Let's take one more deep breath so I can make my final point:

In S2E2, Aziraphale explains to us very exactly what Jane's Balls (hrhr) used to be about: Solving miscommunication and confessing love to one another.

During his car journey back from Edinburgh, Aziraphale:

doesn't know Crowley's Mission Lovebirds had failed

remembers 1941 and just how badly he's in love with Crowley

and also realizes that they seem to have been wildly miscommunicating for quite some time now. (Crowley didn't even tell him he basically got let go!)

So, what does maddeningly strong love plus a want to resolve all the miscommunication equal? That's right: A night to remember! A Ball to change it all! A dance, a vol-au-vent, a confession. And, ideally, a happy ever after. Because:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man angel in possession of a good fortune Jane Austen collection, must be in want of a wife demon husband.”

The Ball was never for Nina and Maggie. As a byproduct, maybe, yes. But the whole rest of the glimmer and glamour, the careful, romantic planning and set up of it all, the book-bating the other shopkeepers– that was for Crowley and Crowley only.

And oh, if only it were as easy as in the books.

*whispers* I'm sorry, I had to.

***

Your honour, the tinfoil-hat crackpot defence rests. Feel free to share thoughts (and prayers) if you want to!

Au revoir! 💗

#good omens season 2 #good omens #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens s2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #my own meta #the bloody vol-au-vents made me do it #aziraphale has balls #truly #jaune austen ball #it is a truth universally acknowledged that this show is going to drive me out of my mind #azi just wanted his silly little love confession #but then he had to surrender the angle #bummer

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lucysarah-c · 5 months

Text

If I tell you a secret, you swear to keep it?

Captain Levi wasn't sure when all of this started, and he dared to say that it had never truly begun; perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Was it due to stress, the lack of sleep, something he ate, or perhaps something in the air? Could it be some hallucinating mold he hadn't heard of before, requiring him to deep clean the entire Scouts' facility?

Somehow, it made him feel morally wrong and, overall, childish. Levi had drawn the attention of his own squad by doing so. He told Jean and Connie that it was inappropriate to stare at a person for so long, emphasising that, as their superior, you deserved respect. Hormonal teenagers, especially boys, saw a hole in a wall and wondered if they could stick their dick inside. They seemed unable to think of anything else when the other head was doing the thinking.

You haven't been working for the Scouts for long, but Levi dared to say it's been long enough for him to feel somewhat comfortable around you. You're the nurse sent by the medical sector to fill the infirmary. Levi understood the nature of the job—a common fetishized and sexualized profession. It didn't help that the male cadets from his squad acted as if they had never seen an ankle. The pristine white uniform was modest and always had been, but Jean saw a skirt despite its length, and his face turned red.

Even though Levi understood all of that and more, why was he reacting this way? You asked him if he wanted the flu shot that the government had sent, and he agreed. His hand gripped the edge of his shirt sleeve as he sat down in the infirmary, yet his eyes were fixed elsewhere. Your silhouette against the window, the still strong autumn sun coming through, almost making your clothes transparent. He could see the shadow of your legs underneath, your rosy lips as you played with the pencil while reading reports, your soft hands—why were they so soft?—against his arm as you prepared the skin, your big doll eyes looking up at him as you examined the skin for a good syringe penetration. "It may hurt a little, Captain," you said. Levi had to remind himself to breathe and swallow the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth. His brain had decided to stop working; he couldn't have a single rational thought.

"Oops," you casually said as a few papers flew because of the open window, moving hastily to close it and then bending down to pick them up. Your modest skirt softly raised, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the tender flesh of your inner legs. 'I bet they are even softer than her hands,' he thought.

What was he thinking? Forcing himself to look elsewhere as she walked back to him to put a band-aid on after the shot, he hadn't ever felt this way. "You may feel a little bit down today or tomorrow. If you feel like you are getting a bit of a fever, that's also normal," her voice came so soft. "There, green," she chuckled, "so it matches your cloak."

Levi's eyes travelled down to admire the green band-aid as if he were a kid in need of colourful stuff to celebrate his bravery in taking a flu shot. "Thanks," he grunted out as he lowered his folded sleeve. There wasn't anything he wished for more than to run out of there. It was humiliating how he felt he couldn't control his own thoughts. You were being your usual nice and cheerful self, sometimes a well-received contrast to the harsh life of a scout. But today, he simply couldn't take it.

Levi groaned softly, tossing and turning in his bed. His mind was racing with conflicting emotions: shame, disgust, desire, and a hint of excitement. "It's the shot, I must be getting a fever or something," he tried to self gaslight himself out of it. He had plenty of paperwork to do, why did he decided to try to catch some rest? Eyes forcefully closed, trying to convince himself to use this time to sleep. When the idea of you kneeling between his legs, under his desk, big cheerful eyes looking up to him, teeth biting down and smiling. Levi shook his head vigorously, banishing the lewd thoughts for now. "This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself.

However it was too late, he could feel the tent in his trousers, demanding him attention. Levi groaned softly, his hand slipping inside his trouser's waistband. It wasn't long before he had freed his erect member from its confines, rubbing it against the fabric of his boxers. The sensation was driving him wild, and he rested on the side, arching his hips slightly to increase the contact. His cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, growing harder and heavier in his grasp.

The image of you bent over flashed through his mind like a cruel tease, his loins burning with desire. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to shake off the thoughts. But the pull was too strong, and he couldn't resist any longer.

Then, he sat up abruptly, unable to contain himself anymore. If he was going to do it, he was going to do it right. He kicked off the sheet and stripped. The last thing he needed was sleeping in stained sheets.

Levi's cock throbbed with need, his erect member stood tall and proud, leaking copious amounts of precum onto his stomach.

Heart racing like a wild animal penned up too long, leaping onto the mattress, he landed on top of it with a thud, arching his hips upwardwards. Mouth gathering the saliva before he spit on his right hand and let his head fall backwards. "Fuck…" he groaned out, unable to resist it any longer. He wanted release so badly it hurt.

His hand moved on its own, fast and harsh. Closing his eyes imagined something better than his own hand, pushing the foreskin of his cock to reveal the head and began to pump it. Levi's eyes remained closed as he let his imagination run free. You were standing before him, a curvy figure illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window. His cock twitched in anticipation, leaking more of his sticky pre-cum onto his stomach. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his member, stroking it roughly yet somewhat tenderly. Perfect body crawling on top of him.

His hand moved faster as the fantasy turned more explicit. You sat down on his legs and his dick buried balls deep in your hole as you rode him with energy. "Yes! Mh-Ahg so big" you would say. "Captain!" moaning out his title, head thrown backwards, messy hair falling like a waterfall "Cap- ahh yesss, fuck me harder!"

You sucking him in, taking all of him so effortlessly as if you were made to take this cock. "You feel me right there? I'm rearranging your guts,". Your mouth hanging open while letting out the loudest moans and your eyes rolled backwards.

Grunting heavily, he brought his other hand to his balls, squeezing them rhythmically to heighten his arousal "You're a filthy whore, aren't ya? this cunt loves swallowing my load" he murmured as if his fantasy could hear it.

Levi's hand quickened its pace, his cock throbbing in sync with his heartbeat. The head of his member was glistening with precum, leaking copiously onto his stomach. His breathing grew heavier, almost labored as he imagined fucking you rough and hard.

In his mind's eye, you were panting heavily almost sobbing of how good it felt each time you sinked down and his hips snapped upwards. Your body quivering with each powerful thrust. "Enjoying that dick, pretty?" he growled, his voice low and husky.

You would be hanging your mouth open unable to think anymore, head bobbing as you hummend positively as saliva slightly dropped from the corner of your lips. His cock was starting to twitch violently, warning him that release was imminent.

"Captain…" you would whimper softly in his mind, begging for more. "Please give me your cum, please… I won't waste a drop."

Levi's hand tightened its grip on his throbbing member, moving faster and harder. His abdominal muscles contracted rhythmically as he neared his climax. "I'm close, Y/N," he growled out your name raggedly. "Right there…"

With one final powerful thrust, he released his seed, shooting hot white ropes onto her stomach and chest. Panting heavily, he continued to pump his cock slowly until it was painful to keep going.

Collapsing on the bed, Levi lay there for several minutes, catching his breath. Gradually, the post-orgasmic bliss began to fade, replaced by a haze of embarrassment and confusion. What had just happened? How could he have thought such filthy things about a fellow soldier? A nurse? He groaned softly, sitting up on the edge of the bed, trying to compose himself.

He felt embarrassed for multiple reasons. First, he had just seen a skirt raised up a bit and he got hard as a teenager. Even worse, as a teen he jerked off a couple of times and came all over his own body. It felt stupid how sexually frustrated he was. If it wasn't because his hands were still filthy, he would be groaning with his head in his hands while questioning himself how he was going to face you in the hallways.

Was it the uniform? The skirt? You were undoubtedly gorgeous, but… Was it because most of the women in the Scouts didn't have time to take care of their appearance, or they simply didn't care? There was something stupidly arousing about your soft and clear skin, how you took care of yourself, the tight little waist highlighting the difference between your swinging hips underneath the skirt, perky breasts under the blouse.

"Captain," your cloying voice whispered his worst intentions, "Captain, you need a hand?"

Levi's eyes, looking to his left, caught your mischievous smile as you looked at him. "I… Um…" He was confused.

"Do you want a hand, Cap?" you asked again, looking deeply into his eyes. 'Well… if you want to…' he wondered, lost as your eyes softly looked down and then back up.

"Do you need help?" The haze of sexually inciting began to fade. "With the tea, I mean… you had been staring at the kettle for ten minutes," your voice now lacked all the previous sweetness, and he felt like an idiot.

"No, thanks," he spat back, angry but not at you. Levi forced himself to get back into his senses and returned to brew his own tea.

"You sure? You seem a bit… lost," you commented. He groaned an unworded reply and then handed you a cup. Soft fingers brushed against his before raising the liquid to your lips, letting out a pleased moan. "Ah~ nothing better than tea in the mornings," you said before adding with an innocent smile, "Hot, strong, and deep, exactly as I like it."

Levi swore he was trying to breathe, but he simply couldn't. "Have a nice morning, thanks for the tea! You really know how I like it," you said back before walking away. 'Maybe I should visit a church or something.'

Yet his eyes were still glued to your back as you walked away, skirt swinging as you moved. He didn't mean to stare, but something smacked him on the head with strength, forcing him back to his senses. "Oi!" he turned around to confront the person, only to find Hange with a handful of papers rolled up in their hand.

"Stop staring~" they signed back with a mischievous smile.

"I wasn't," he replied while his hand caressed the top of his head. "Stop laughing, four eyes," he insisted as he could hear Hange's chuckles.

Suddenly, Hange wrapped an arm around his shoulders, resting their entire weight on them, and their heads touching. "You know… if I tell you a secret, you swear to keep it, right?"

"Get off my ass," Levi replied, not interested in being dragged into Hange's silly games.

"The other day, I was talking to Erwin," their voice dropped as they began to whisper, "And we both agreed that Y/N has such a great ass."

Both looked at each other from the corner of their eyes, Levi frowning deeply.

"Don't tell the cadets, though… we don't want to set a bad example."

Tags!: @nmlkys @jimoonbeau @fictiondrunk @notgoodforlife @nube55 @justkon Wanna join my tag list? Here!

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dudeitiskarev · 7 days

Text

Almost Lover | Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x ghost!female reader

Summary: You died right in front of him, yet you're still around.

Tags/warnings: death; grief; angst with a bit of humor.

Word count: 4.5k

Author's note: this is a repost from my AO3. Since I deactivated a while ago, I've been slowly, very slowly. reposting my fics on here 🥰 this piece is one of my favorites I've written so for those who haven't read it, I hope you like it! Flashbacks are in italics.

MASTERLIST

The night froze for a moment.

Like never before, you weren’t able to talk down the unsub, and your confident “we can talk about this” as you lowered your gun, became your last words – your last breath. They pulled the trigger — literally — and from that moment, everything happened in slow motion.

Yet the single gunshot that blared around was so damn fast. It broke the air on its way to you and went straight through your skull, killing you within half a second.

Nice and quick, you would’ve said.

“No.” Aaron’s ears started ringing; his eyes widened in disbelief and his gun slipped off his hand like sand at the same time your body dropped dead to the ground.

“Shots fired! Agent down!” JJ’s voice turned into a desperate scream.

No.

This must be one of Aaron’s nightmares; the ones that felt too real and woke him up covered in sweat; the ones that always made him call you in the middle of the night just to hear your voice and make sure you were alright, and the ones that sometimes ended up with you laying next to him because you wanted to be there when he fell asleep again.

The digital clock on his nightstand marked 4:47 AM. He’d been dozing on and off for the past hour since the nightmare but a gentle knock on his door awakened all of his senses.

“Aaron, it’s me.” Your voice came soft but loud enough from behind the door.

An instant sigh of relief dragged him out of bed to the front door. It wasn’t the first time you’d shown up unannounced at his place, but he still wondered, what the hell were you doing here at this time of the night? You hated driving at night.

He unlocked every lock and opened up for you. “Wha–?”

“You had a nightmare–” You interrupted him, walking in as if it was your own place “–Where I died so I came here to show you I’m very much alive.”

You toed off your shoes while tossing your coat on his couch right next to his.

“What?” You frowned, but he didn’t say a thing. He just stood there, staring at your very-much-alive self. You walked up to him and brushed the front pieces of his fluffy hair back. “Would a hug make you feel better?”

Everything you did and said was like a morning sunbeam sneaking through the blinds, bathing him with warmth. He smiled with his eyes and leaned down to you with lazy open arms, going for a tight hug where every piece of you locked and clicked together.

No.

Each step closer to you weakened, and the moment he reached your side, his knees gave up. His entire world froze right then, too. The pool of blood spreading around you was very much real, but that didn’t stop him from lifting half of your body off the floor to hold you in his arms.

There was no click.

This wasn’t happening. Not again.

“Somebody!” His heart-shattering voice echoed around, “Wake up, please.” He lightly tapped your still warm cheek as if you’d simply fainted; as if there wasn’t peace, crimson, and his own tears staining your face. “Oh, honey, no. Don’t do this to me, please.”

There were no signs of you. You were just a body, and the only thing your team could do was end with the monster who had broken everyone’s heart.

No one – not even Reid – thought twice before shooting fire at the unsub, all at the same time. There was rage in every single bullet, and though it was morally wrong, in their eyes, making sure the guy was dead was the only right thing to do.

Derek’s gun was the first to run out of ammo and his muffled crying was the first one of all, too. “That son of a bitch!” His voice cracked between a sob, throwing his arms over his head in defeat. He was your running buddy, your go-to random hug, and personal hype man. The first one to notice when you got a haircut and the only one you’d had the chance to tell about your feelings for your Unit Chief.

Reid suspected those feelings, but he was waiting for an appropriate moment to ask you.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Spencer rushed to the closest bush, spraying his dinner out of his mouth. Witnessing your life being taken away seemed to be the start of yet another rough patch that was gonna be hard to get out of. The connection you two had was cosmic – like no other; you were the sibling he didn’t know he needed beside him.

Too bad you walked into his life too late and only got to be his sister for three short years.

“Oh, god!” JJ’s voice had never sounded so terrified.“Oh my god!” She brought her shaky hands up to her mouth with wide eyes and just stood there, staring at the hole in your forehead. She was trying not to panic, but she’d started to hyperventilate already.

The air struggled to find its way to her lungs, and if it weren’t for Rossi’s ability to calm her down and Garcia’s loud voice through her earbud, she would’ve passed out right there next to you.

“JJ?!” Garcia yelled. Poor thing, she had no idea. “Oh god! Did wha-what happened? Hello?! Someone please talk to me!”

All she heard was the first gunshot that triggered the shootout. Now everyone’s crying had her at the edge of her seat.

Everyone’s but yours.

“Oh, no,” she mumbled to herself at the realization. “My girl. Is she gone? Is she…”

“Garcia, baby, I’m so sorry,” Derek tried to stop the tremble in his voice. “I’m so sorry. She’s–”

Penelope threw her headphones away before Morgan could finish his sentence and took off her glasses, covering her face with both hands as the tears streamed down her cheeks. You weren’t supposed to leave her. Ever. You’d planned your vacation already to London to visit Emily in just a few weeks.

God, Emily. How was Garcia supposed to tell her?

Your sudden death was evidence of god’s sick sense of humor. Putting Aaron in the exact same position again — holding the corpse of the love of his life as the vision of a less lonely future blended with gunpowder in the air – was the most fucked up joke.

You’d turned into a memory at the snap of a finger and from right then, everything was all a blur.

They ripped you off Aaron’s arms and put you inside a black bag to carry you to an ambulance – as if there was any point in doing so. He somehow made it to his apartment, got a glimpse of his clothes stained with blood – your blood – then found himself sitting on his couch as two familiar tiny hands shook him by the shoulders.

“Dad! are you okay?” Jack asked with worried, wide eyes. He was too mature for a ten-year-old and it was too soon for him to see his father broken again.

“I’m okay.” Aaron stood up, quickly drying his tears with the heel of his hand.

“Are you hungry? Aunt Jessica made us some food. I can put some in the microwave.”

“I’m okay, Buddy. It’s time for bed.”

Next thing he knew he was in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing he could press the rewind button and time travel to any moment when he was around you.

“Agent Hotchner,” your perky voice got his attention. You were standing at his office door with two matching kitten mugs full of steaming coffee. “Do you have time to share some caffeine with me?”

He gave you a warm smile and put the papers aside. “Always.”

You’d made it a habit to bring him coffee in the middle of the day to remind him he needed to take a break. And since it became a regular thing, you had to give him a mug just because. He looked forward to your date-like breaks, and it boosted him with energy to finish everything on time, even when sometimes you two spent hours just talking.

You preferred to actually take him out of his office and go to the coffee shop two blocks away, but the one time you did it, he didn’t feel like going back to lock himself at the BAU, so the couch in his office had to do it.

You sat on it and tapped next to you, gesturing for him to join you.

“No cookies?” He asked with a smile as he plopped next to you.

“I thought I had some left.” You swung your legs over his thighs. “I’m pretty sure Reid stole the last package I had in my drawer.”

“Girl Scout cookies?”

“Caramel deLites.” You nodded.

“He just can’t resist them.” Hotch sipped on his coffee before getting up and reaching inside his drawer.

“You keep cookies too?” You laughed when he pulled out a pack.

“They’re not caramel deLites–” He sat next to you again and brought your legs back where they were over his “–But…”

“Thin Oreos are perfect.”

There was some sort of interrogation from Strauss at the BAU the next morning. She needed to know exactly what happened while the memories were still fresh.

Aaron was last, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the situation; him relating the story of how his loved one ended up murdered yet again.

“I don’t see how any of this is funny, Aaron.” Erin slid down her glasses to the tip of her nose.

“Oh, I don’t think it’s funny either,” he said, and tried his best to suppress his laughter by hiding his mouth behind his hand, but his shoulder still shook.

Strauss paused the recorder and dismissed everyone that was there with a simple glance as she spoke to Hotch, “We’re gonna take a break.”

His laugh didn’t fade until he was all alone in the room and sooner than later it turned into silent angry tears. Grieving Aaron Hotchner was a whole different person. A version of himself he hoped he’d never have to be again but there he was, being suffocated by rage and guilt, even when he knew there was nothing he could’ve done to avoid what’d happened. He just wished there was a way to turn back time and trade places.

Everyone had a week off to mourn your loss after the interrogation. Not enough – no time would ever be enough – but work was work. Monsters were still killing people and the Bureau had already hung a picture of you on the wall of honor.

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Penelope was the first one to say something.

The team was gathered in front of your image; your smile was contagious even through a photo.

“I know.” Morgan touched her shoulder with his and kissed her temple. “It’s gonna be hard living in a world without her.”

“I’m not ready.” Garcia wiped her tears and turned to face everyone. “I’m not ready to take down monsters without her.”

JJ smiled in an attempt to say something, but her voice wouldn’t come out. It could’ve been her picture on that wall, but you’d offered to talk to the unsub that night as if it was the most mundane thing. She wouldn’t even dare to look at Aaron afraid she’d crumble and say I’m sorry a thousand times.

Hotch blinked away his tears and clenched his jaw, staring at your picture. He wasn’t ready to keep living without you, yet he said, “We have to. She would want us to,” trying to convince himself in a way. He walked away to lock himself up in his office and stopped by your desk on his way there.

It was intact and your presence lingered as if you’d just gotten up to refill your mug with coffee. Your chair still had the wrinkled pillow you’d brought on your second day because you couldn’t handle sitting there with a numb butt, and the small heater you used to keep your feet warm was still plugged under the desk.

You always said it was important to decorate your workspace like it was a piece of your bedroom. It helped you perform better, you’d say, and had convinced everyone to follow that advice – even Hotch.

“Excuse me.” A janitor approached Hotch and placed an empty box on your desk.

“What are you doing?” Aaron used his arm as a barrier to stop the man from picking up your stuff.

“Clearing up this desk.”

“Hey!” The click-clack of Penelope’s high heels came running from behind. “Don’t touch her stuff!”

“We need the space,” the janitor said.

“No, we don’t.” Hotch returned the box to him. “As far as I know we haven’t hired any new agent.”

“Look, I’m just doing what I was told.”

“Leave it as it is.” Hotch glared at him. “I’m gonna talk to whoever told you we needed the space.”

“It must have been Strauss.�� Derek’s jaw clenched.

“How can she be so cold,” Penelope stared at Hotch walking across to room.

It was known that Strauss didn’t like you, so Hotch hurried into his office to just toss his briefcase and go confront Erin, but the moment he stepped in, his body stiffened.

The room was cold, and the silhouette he caught from the corner of his eye, sitting on his couch, made his heart drop to his stomach.

“Hey, boss.”

That was your voice, and your scent was in the air all of a sudden.

He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. This wasn’t happening. The lack of sleep was too much. It was definitely that.

But when he turned the lights on and you were still there, it didn’t seem like craziness.

“What? Did you see a ghost or something?”

That was definitely you.

“Shut the door,” you continued, “it’s getting cold in here.”

Still in disbelief, he obeyed but couldn’t dare to look straight at you. Your presence was strong and he was sure it was his brain playing tricks on him because it’d happened before. A long time ago when his father died. He’d see the man at school, though he was never brave enough to reach out and actually exchange words with him like you were doing right now. He wished it would’ve happened with Haley so he could have heard her voice and held her hand one last time, but she never showed up.

Part of him had hoped it’d happen with you too at some point. And there you were.

He made his way to his chair and just stood there for a second before sitting. Then he finally dared to look at you.

God, that was actually you.

You were wearing the exact same clothes you had on the day you died — a purple T-shirt and the cargo pants you borrowed from Emily once but never returned — just not stained with blood and not a single wrinkle in sight. You hated ironing your clothes.

“Have you missed me?” You folded your arms over your chest and walked across the room, sitting on the chair in front of him.

“Yes.”

“I know, that’s why I’m here. I know you’re not ready for me to leave you.”

The softness of your voice reached his soul, and a knot started to appear in his throat. “I didn’t get to tell you that I loved you.” His voice shook.

“Well, you weren’t very subtle about it.” You rose from the chair and walked to the other side of the desk, leaning on it right next to him, and reached for his hand.

You were warm. He looked up at you and caught the comfort of your eyes. If you weren’t real, why did looking into your eyes still give him butterflies?

“This isn’t real,” he whispered to himself, closing his eyes. “I’m going crazy.”

“Now that would be romantic.” There was a twitch of a smile on his lips at your playful tone. You always managed to make him smile in one way or another. “Would a kiss make you feel better?”

He’d kissed you only once – the night before you died – so he knew how soft and sweet your lips were. He looked up at you and right when he was going to say yes, you leaned down and kissed his lips.

This kiss was different, though. It was painful because he was sure you were part of his imagination. He tried to put those feelings aside – take his insanity as a blessing in disguise – and lifted his hand to cup your face, but a single knock on his door seemed to scare you, and before it swung open, you vanished into thin air.

“Aaron.” Strauss stormed in. “Is there a reason why you’re refusing to clear her desk?”

He rubbed his hand over his mouth and tried to compose himself. “I need to talk to her family first. See who will take care of her things. Out of respect.” He stressed the last word to show how out of line her behaviour was.

Erin widened her eye, as a threat, almost. “You have one day.” Erin glared at him and left the room.

Hotch sighed deeply.

It was the faintest kiss, but it was you.

Most nights at the BAU were lonely; since you were gone, that solitude pierced bones. It’d been four months already and it was still unreal to the team.

Especially to Spencer.

He used to pull all-nighters with you by his side, and while he played chess on his own, you finished the paperwork you left until the last minute. He still stayed until late these days, just not as often nor until the sun rose.

You missed him too, and now, all you could do was mess with him hoping he’d at least feel the ghost of you.

“Uh.” Spencer quickly snapped his hand off the chess board when a piece slowly moved on its own.

He rubbed his eyes and stared at the board again. And you moved a piece, again.

“What the– not again?”

“You okay?” Hotch’s voice came loud and out of nowhere, making Spencer jump on his seat. His heart almost leaped out of his chest; he had to make sure it was still there, placing his hand over it.

“Did– did you see that?” Reid’s voice got a bit higher than it normally was.

“See what?” Aaron walked up to him with a subtle smirk.

“Nothing.” Spencer frowned. “What are you doing here anyway? It’s almost four AM.” He glanced at his watch.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Spencer frowned his lips.

“We may have a case,” Hotch continued. “So don’t leave.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Spencer lowered his voice, looking around.

Hotch gave you a quick glance ordering you to follow him on his way to his office.

“Haunting Reid isn’t very nice,” he told you as soon as he shut the door behind you.

“I was bored.” You put on an innocent face and gave him a guilty smile. “Waiting for you. And he needs to stop staying here until so late, so I was doing him a favor.” You sat on his desk and swung your feet back and forth as he settled on his chair. “You’re here earlier than our usual time.”

“We may have a case.” He looked up at you.

“It’s Jack’s birthday next week.” You mentioned. “Are we gonna do something special for him?”

“Jessica and I are taking him to this star wars convention.”

“That sounds fun. Can I go?”

You went wherever he went, even flew with him for cases, but you still asked for his permission. You were a distraction, so you tried to stay on the margins when you knew he needed all of his focus.

That’s why you enjoyed plane rides the most.

Everyone still sat on their usual seat on the jet, and your spot next to Hotch remained empty so you still sat there, quiet.

“You’ve been seeing her,” Rossi said as he sat on the seat across from Aaron.

“Sorry?” Hotch lifted his eyes from his folder.

“It happened to me when Carolyn died. I’d see her around, even talk to her at times. I was worried it might have been an illness or something.” He waved his hand in the hair. “It wasn’t. I can give you the name of my doctor.”

He didn’t admit it but didn’t deny it either.

The jet took off and Rossi didn’t mention it again until they landed.

“Are you thinking about going to the doctor?” You asked him when no one was around.

“I love having you around.” He stared into the void. ”But this isn’t normal.”

That hurt a bit, but you still stayed by his side during the entire case and were there for his doctor’s appointment as soon as you made it back in Quantico, too.

“You’re grieving, agent,” the doctor started. “It is a rare way of grieving but it happens. I can medicate you to help get rid of it, but you also need to work on it.”

Whatever that meant, Aaron wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to get rid of you, but something scared you that day and you stopped being around as often. You weren’t at the BAU and the usual time to spend some time alone with him, and you weren’t there for Jack’s birthday as you’d said you wanted to.

Not as your usual self, anyway.

They’d just gotten back from the Star Wars convention and something was slightly off about his apartment.

“No way!” Jack screeched with excitement. There was a dog on the couch. “ You got me a puppy?!” He ran to the little dog who waved its tail with the same enthusiasm.

“You got him a puppy?” Jess subtly asked Hotch

“No? Did you?”

Neither said a thing and stared at the wholesome sight of happy Jack.

Hotch wasn’t sure to what extent the “anything is possible” was possible for those who belonged to the hereafter, but something told him the puppy was your magic work.

“My cheeks hurt from smiling so much!” Jack laughed as the puppy licked his face. “Can I name her?”

How could Aaron say no to that? He didn’t want to crush his son’s dream and tell him the dog wasn’t supposed to be there, so they did a quick run to the store to buy some dog food and helped Jack build a tiny bed for her in his bedroom instead.

“Can she stay forever?” Jack asked. He’d already mastered the puppy-dog eyes.

“We’ll see.” Hotch tucked him in and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight, buddy.”

He gave the puppy one last scratch on its chin and went to bed too, though it already seemed like it was going to be one of those nights where the sleep never came.

The bed sank next to him at two AM, making him lose track of how many sheep he was counting. There you were with a sad look.

“Where have you been?” He asked you in a murmur.

“I don’t want you to think I’m here because there’s something wrong with you.” You whispered.

“I don’t.”

“Then why did you go to the doctor?”

“To rule it out.” He caressed your cheek. “But you’re clearly not part of my imagination. You’re here.”

“Something’s holding me back.” You gulped. “I need you to help me get to the other side. I need to know you’re going to be okay without me.”

Only then he noticed you didn’t want to be there, to begin with.

“I’m sorry we won’t be growing old together,” you continued. “That we won’t give Jack any siblings and Jess more nephews, but I will always be by your side, taking care of you three. Always. And I’ll be waiting for you, Aaron. You were my greatest love, even when I won’t be yours, and I’m sorry. ”

“I’ll be okay.” He tried to swallow the lump on his throat and brought you close into a tight hug. “You go. I’m gonna be alright.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“I love you,” you sobbed into his chest.

“God, I love you, too. I always will.”

It was like the old times when a nightmare woke him up, but this time he was so damn scared to fall asleep because he knew you weren’t going to be there when he woke up. So he cherished the moment and held you until you leaped into his dreams forever.

You stopped showing up, but you weren’t gone. He’d get a whiff of you while he made himself some coffee, and would stop for a moment to close his eyes and take you in. He’d still feel your presence around, at the BAU, at your favorite donut shop, and in his car when a song you liked came on the radio.

You were everywhere. He still didn’t know how to move on, but knew he had to let it happen naturally.

Time went by; he started to forget the sound of your voice, the trees lost their leaves and grew new ones through the seasons. His heart healed eventually, too, and the love he once had for life sparked again.

“I’m not sure if we can keep here any longer,” Hotch said, staring at Chewie who had grown into her ears and started to make the apartment look small.

“What do you mean?” Jack asked, putting the harness on her and pulling her close to him.

“We may need a new house.” Aaron opened the front door for them, ready to take her on a walk. “But the park will have to do it for now. Let’s go.”

Those walks in the park became the best part of Aaron’s day. They kept his mind busy and they might have boosted a new chapter in his life…

“Ah! Look at them!” Haley clapped with excitement. Turns out you weren’t the only one looking after them. “Aren’t they cute.”

You stood next to her with your arms folded over your chest and admired how Chewie played cupid by stomping on this woman’s picnic.

“So sorry,” Aaron approached her while Jack tried to catch the leash.

“You are a beautiful girl,” the woman said, letting Chewie lick her face all over.

That was her, Aaron’s greatest love.

“Did you know I was gonna die?” you asked Haley.

“I did.” She turned to you. “But there was nothing I could’ve done. Life… it’s an odd thing. We don’t get to choose anything.” Haley stared at her husband and son again. “Everything is written already.”

“She won’t die tragically like we did, will she?” Haley twitched her mouth. “She will?!”

“I’m just kidding.” She dismissively waved a hand with a laugh and began to walk away. “You can stop worrying too much about him now! She’s got him!”

“Where are you going?!” You hurried behind her, throwing one last look over your shoulder. “Wait up!”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb

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kuamiru · 1 year

Text

The Golden Child Part IV

SAGAU & Impostor AU where the reader is the child of the actual creator.

Warnings: Blood, crying blood, mention of abduction and terrorism.

If you haven't read part 3 yet, you can find it here.

Please understand that I won't add new people to the taglist as it has become way too large now. I'm sorry if this causes any inconvenience.

The acting Grand Sage was having a very, very busy week.

With his resignation coming soon, he wanted to finish every document that needed his immediate attention; somehow, his shift was never enough to finish everything on time.

Piles of documents that never seemed to end. Countless people needed his help that went from the most mundane things to twisted crimes that needed the immediate intervention from the Matra. In any case, once he started his working hours, there was no time to waste.

So, that was why the presence of the man in front of him managed to irk him greatly. There was enough time to be a nuisance at home, why did Kaveh feel the need to come bother him at work?

"But I'm telling you!" The blonde exclaimed. "There's definitely something weird about it!"

He sighed. "Well then, did it look like that child was being held against their will?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Then there's nothing I can do. The most I can offer is to send a Matra to investigate and/or interrogate that Lord. For all you know, they could simply be an Eremite's child."

Kaveh wanted to tell him that no, that wasn't the case, but in reality he didn't know that. There was just a feeling, a strange sensation that made him think that there must be something more about them. Kidnapped, an Eremite's child, the illegitimate Lord's child... No option sat well with him.

If Alhaitham saw that child, would he share Kaveh's thoughts?

Fuck it. If Alhaitham didn't want to help him, then he would investigate this matter himself.

Just as he was about to curse his roommate and storm away, the grand doors opened with a loud bang. Before seeing who intruded like that, they first heard the loud gasps and whispers of the scholars outside his office.

"Alhaitham!" The voice of a particular forest watcher resonated around the room. Both him and Kaveh were taken aback at the sight of the newcomers. They were bloody, beaten up, with bandages loosely covering certain areas of their bodies as if they only did it to stop the bleeding and not for properly treating the wounds. Collei was supporting both her weight and Tighnari's, as she was helping him stand and walk. "We need your help!"

The fact that Tighnari didn't refer to him as 'acting Grand Sage' denoted alarming urgency. He quickly rose from his seat and called for immediate medical help. Kaveh ran to his friend's side, gently removing him from Collei and letting him use his own body as support, earning a thankful glance from the girl. The wounds in his body started to bleed again, soaking the bandages and some of Kaveh's clothes in the process.

"What happened to you?!" The blonde asked in a panic.

Collei was still taking deep breaths, exhausted for having to carry her mentor all the way to Sumeru City. "The Ville! We were attacked!"

Alhaitham opened his eyes all the way thanks to his surprise. How come the Gandharva Ville had been attacked and he was only finding out now? By the look of the injuries, he guessed it must've happened yesterday.

"Wow, calm down! Breathe first." Kaveh said. "Explain what happened."

As the medic of the Akademiya arrived and started to treat Tighnari, Collei composed herself and started to explain everything from the beginning.

She told them about the child in the forest that was attacked by Eremites, with their family presumably dead by the Eremite's hands. How Tighnari heard them and immediately appeared to help the kid, safely escorting them to the Gandharva Ville so they could decide what to do next. She also explained how those mercenaries came back for revenge, attacking their Ville and abducting the child once every fighter was down.

Her words shocked the blonde. He looked at his roommate, half in disbelief that his own suspicions turned out to be true.

"You say they took them? Grabbed them and disappeared into the forest?"

"Yes, yes... I was knocked out and they managed to get to them...!" Collei cried. "You have to do something! Those Eremites killed their family and now have kidnapped them!"

The grand doors opened once again, and Tighnari and Kaveh both breathed a sigh of relief at the figure standing in the doorway.

The general Mahamatra had arrived.

"I heard there was a commotion here." Cyno spoke. Tighnari greeted him by saying his name, which made the newcomer turn his attention to him. When he laid his eyes upon the wounded fox hybrid and saw how beaten up he was, his blood boiled with deep rage. "What happened?"

Sensing danger from the short man, Alhaitham quickly composed himself and started to explain the situation. This didn't seem to help Cyno calm down. In fact, every word he spoke only served to fuel his anger.

"We must do something then. That child must be in danger." The general said. "We must rescue them. I'll also arrange for the other matras to track down and hunt those Eremites that raided the Ville."

Tighnari nodded. "Let's go."

"YOU won't go. The 'we' I was talking about is composed of Alhaitham, the Matra and I."

"What?!" Kaveh, Tighnari and Collei cried in unison.

"Regarding the seriousness of the situation, it's only natural that this matter is solved within members of the Matra and Akademiya." Alhaitham explained. "It could be extended to inhabitants of the Gandharva Ville, but the only thing they need now is a good doctor and a lot of rest."

"No way!" Tighnari shouted. "I have to get them back! I have to, I have to..."

His voice faded into intelligible mumbles, repeating again and again the same words. This was the first time Cyno had seen his best friend like this. What could have happened to make him act this way? Those damned Eremites... He would make sure they paid for what they've done.

Alhaitham and the grand general were quick to exit the office and start gathering people to accompany them to Alcazarzaray.

This matter had to be settled right now.

One of the people present also made his way to the exit, only that she did in the complete opposite way.

You were feeling very, very warm.

It was as if a giant marshmallow was enveloping you, gently offering a comfortable space to rest while you dozed off with a sense of security.

Suddenly, hand rested on your head, carefully caressing your hair in a loving manner. You opened your eyes, only to find a silhouette cradling you and watching you with hearts on their eyes.

"Keep sleeping, stardust." A soothing voice came out of their lips. "Once you wake, I won't get to hold you like this again."

The sadness in their tone made your heart ache. You gently raised your hand and rested it on their cheek, smiling when they wore a surprised expression.

"Tata..." You whispered. "Papa said they took you..."

You tried to keep smiling, you were seeing your parent again! But the thought of everything that happened only fueled the pain in your chest, making you let a sob out before starting to fully crying.

Your parent stopped the caressing to instead hug you tightly. Whispered sweet words in your ear. "You're too young for everything's that happening. How I wish I could still be hugging you in reality, and not just in this dream."

So this was a dream. Well, it didn't matter. This was the place your parent was, where you could touch them once again.

"Why did they do it...?" You could only ask between sobs.

You could hear your tata let a sigh. Both them and your father had tried to explain everything to you, at least the best they could to a little child. But maybe all you needed right now was the truth.

"I'm the one who created this world." They spoke. With a wave of their hand, something akin to stardust was born from it. It made you giggle a little. "And as such, I also wanted to live here as a mortal like everyone. Like your father, like you."

You looked into their eyes and saw all the love they had for you.

"I descended in a new body, with no powers and no memory. But the mortals and gods... Over time, they became obsessed with the idea of me. Of a being of pure love, power, and divinity. Being in a mortal body, I possessed none of that, so it was only natural that they thought I was an impostor trying to deceive them."

With each word, their tone became more and more solemn. "They... killed my body, so I now return to be a deity unapproachable by any of them. Any, except for you."

They kissed your nose gently.

"You are my child, my flesh and blood, and though I had a mortal body when you were conceived, my divinity still flows in you."

Their fingers brushed the cut in your arm, the one you got when you protected your father back in the Chasm. You averted your eyes from it. It only served to remind you what you lost that day.

"I want nothing more than destroy this world and the people in it for everything they've done to their own creator. But..."

Strangely enough, those words filled with hatred did not worry you in the slightest. Was it because it was your parent who said them? "But...?" You trailed on.

"But you and him still live here. And I do not wish for you both to feel anything remotely close to what I've experienced."

The hug enveloping you became a little tighter, as if your tata was trying to heal all their pain by embracing you.

It was a silent promise. One that said that as long as you both were alive, then the world would remain untouched.

"I miss you." You whispered, hiding your face in their chest.

"I miss you too, stardust. I hope you both live your life to the fullest before finally being reunited again. I love you."

You felt a warm and gentle kiss on your forehead and raised your head to see your parent one last time only to find a pillow resting above you, right where your tata had been. You let a sad sigh at the sight of an unknown bedroom and strange bed.

So, it really was just a dream. But it felt so real... you could still feel the tenderness of their touch and the tingle their lips left on your skin. How you missed your family...

Looking at the window in front of the bed, you noticed that the sun was already starting to set. It seemed that you fell asleep crying in your aunt's arms, how embarrassing. But to sleep all day? It really showed how your situation was exhausting your little body.

There was a small table at your right side with a plate of food on it. There was a note attached to it, with your name written on the upside. You took it and tried to read it, but the handwriting was very different from your parent's. You recognized some letters, but the words were pretty confusing.

Still, even if you couldn't read it, it left a warm feeling in your chest knowing that Dori cared enough to leave you some food and a little note for the moment you woke up.

With the piece of paper in your hand, you rushed to your backpack and took the stuffed animal from the inside, putting both items on the bed. They were your treasures now.

If only you had something from your father as well...

Opting to occupy your mind to not get sad, you tried to approach the table with the snack before a loud bang resonated around the entire palace. It seemed that someone was knocking on the front door, really hard.

As you tried to peek outside the room to see what was going on, you were surprised when Dori quickly came in and pushed you inside, closing the door behind her.

"Auntie? What's happening?" You asked with a slight tremble on your voice. Had trouble come again? Could those people from Liyue have finally found you?

"Ah, that? It's nothing. Probably the Matra trying to arrest me again for 'alleged' scams." She laugh, clearly unbothered by the whole situation. "What do you have there?"

You looked where she was pointing, right at your stuffed animal. "Oh! That's my favorite plush. Tata made it for me for my last birthday."

She smiled and picked it up in her hands. "Look at this cute thing! Handmade goods tend to sell pretty well."

Dori put the plush back where it was and turned to face you.

"Well, I see that you still haven't eaten. What do you say we have dinner together? The chef prepares the best dishes in all Teyvat!"

You giggled. "Okay!"

"Sweet! Then we—"

She stopped in the middle of the sentence as the sound of the main doors opening filled the mansion. This set her right on edge, as the butler had strict orders to not open the door to anybody, not even for the Matra or Grand Sage himself. She pressed herself to the door of the room to hear what was happening in the main hall.

"Aunt Dori?" You were confused by the sudden change of demeanor. You grabbed the stuffed animal and held it to your chest, trying to get some sense of comfort.

"Shh." She motioned for you to remain silent, so you did. Voices could be heard, and even the distressed wails of the butler resonated around the halls. Whatever was happening, it was undoubtedly bad.

Dori looked at you, which made you startle a little. "Did something happen back with the Eremites?" She asked.

"Um, well..." You trailed off, nervous. "Back in the forest, a boy from a place called Gandharva Ville found me first. He brought me back with him, and those mercenaries had to attack the city because of that misunderstanding."

She pushed her head back as the voices got louder, undoubtedly investigating the mansion in the search of something. Someone.

"Fuck, those idiots didn't even bother to tell me anything. No wonder even the Grand Sage is here." The woman mumbled under her breath. She sighed and looked back at you. "Change of plans. We have to hide, or else I'll be imprisoned for terrorism and kidnapping. Those are things I don't plan to add to my record. "

Oh no, was this your fault? Was now your aunt in trouble because you didn't go with the Eremites right away? First, the nice people in the Ville were attacked, and now Dori was going to be blamed for it.

"Quick! Let's go through the secret passage!"

She locked the door behind her and rushed to the bed, pushing it to separate the furniture from the wall. You quickly gathered the plush and the letter and put them in the backpack before helping Dori move the bed. There was a different color right where the headboard rested, and the merchant wasted no time in tearing the wallpaper to reveal a small door beneath.

The Matra was getting closer, so Dori was in a hurry to get you both out of the house. She motioned for you to go first, so you crossed the small passage while she stayed behind temporarily to move back the bed to where it was.

You found yourself back at the gardens, just at the back of the manor away from the people that were surrounding the perimeter. Nobody seemed to have spotted you yet, so you waited for Dori to crawl from the secret passage before running away.

"Stay low. These guys are the real deal here." She whispered before taking your hand in hers and guiding you through the less visible parts of the lot.

You were almost at the entrance of the forest when a member of the Matra spotted you two and quickly gave the signal to his associates.

"There! They're trying to escape using the southern exit!"

It wasn't long before the rest of the Matra started to mobilize in your direction. Dori opted to stop hiding and run as fast as you could, as a last attempt to lose the officials.

You almost managed to reach the edge of the forest when the ground rose in front of you, forming a pillar made of dirt and stones that blocked the path ahead.

"Stop! Lord Sangemah Bay, you are under arrest!"

Turning around, a member of the Matra with a Geo vision was the culprit of your dead end. He was concentrating on maintaining the pillar as the General Mahamatra made his way towards you. Dori put you behind her, which didn't really help to cover you as your heights were not so far away.

"Lord Sangemah Bay." Greeted Cyno, though his voice was filled with nothing but disdain. "I knew you were a scammer, but I'd have never thought of you a terrorist. Have anything to say about this?"

She furrowed her brows but otherwise remained silent. So, he instead looked at you.

"So this is the kid that made you even attack Gandharva Ville to capture. Who is this? Why are you keeping them?"

You wanted to answer him, but the hold Dori had on your hand suddenly felt tighter as if she was silently telling you to keep quiet. Cyno sighed, knowing that he would not get anything out of the pair.

"I see how it is. You both will have to come with the Matra then."

The breeze picked up strongly.

A powerful burst of wind almost knocked Cyno off his feet; he even had to summon his polearm and nail it to the ground to remain in his place. Dirt and leaves started floating from everywhere, and you had to cover your eyes to avoid hurting them.

Only when everything calmed down you ventured to open them once again. You were now facing the back of a small man, with black and green hair and light green tattoos in the visible skin in his arms.

You had a very, very bad feeling about this guy; for the clothing he bore told everyone present that he was foreign to their nation.

"I'm afraid I can't allow to take this child with you."

The stranged summoned his own weapon; a jade colored polearm materialized in his hand as he took a more defensive stance.

"I know you." Cyno spoke. He regained his balance and also held his spear in his hands. "Liyue seems to be pretty far away from here, don't you think?"

Liyue.

This man was here to take you back. Because you were your parent's child, wasn't it? They wanted the child born from the divinity they were obsessed with.

Oh no, no, no, no...

You took one step backward but instantly froze when the boy turned his head to look at you the moment your foot touched the ground. His golden eyes bore right into yours, as if he was nothing more than a predator waiting for the best chance to strike.

However, he promptly returned his attention to the general when he saw that you were no longer moving.

"Heed my words, for this is the only warning I'll offer, mortal. Forget everything about this child, for they are now under the eternal custody of Liyue and the Geo Archon."

Cyno frowned. He still didn't understand the situation that well, but something about you was so special that even the Rex Lapis himself was sending his own acolytes to fetch them. Now, the attack on the Ville made more sense.

He didn't know who you could possibly be, but from the looks of it, you were terrified at the sight of the adeptus. Was this another kidnapping? For a god to step so low...

If anything, he only knew that you didn't want to go with him. So, you should stay here. Right where the Matra could protect you.

He took one step in the adeptus' direction, but the same strong wind from before returned and threatened to send him flying. He could only discern a green stream quickly making his way to where you were standing before vanishing, with the wind closely behind.

When he was able to get the dirt out of his eyes, only the sight of his fellow matra remained. Xiao was gone; you were too. He didn't see the Lord either, but he stopped paying them attention early on. Maybe they took this chance to escape the Matra and avoid any questioning.

His coworkers were quick to offer a hand; two of them helped him stand while the rest immediately started a search party for both Dori and the missing child.

Liyue, huh?

He had to report this to the acting Grand Sage.

There is no justice in letting a handful of people have his way with a kid. He would rescue them, even if he had to cross the whole land to get there.

"Isn't the weather beautiful today?"

The Fatui soldier didn't voice her answer, only nodded to maintain her silence. She had her head hanging low, for she was paying respect to the man in front of her.

You had to be always careful when in the presence of Dottore, after all.

"A little bird told me something funny today." His deep tone made chills run down her spine. His silhouette in front of the window gave an ominous feeling, the weather displaying a colorful battle of blue, purple, and yellow thanks to the storm outside. "It appears that the Creator themself descended a few years ago!"

"H-huh?!" She could not help the gasp of surprise that left her mouth but quickly returned to her position of submission when the mad man turned to see her.

Instead of getting angry, he smiled creepily. "Just as you hear. Our Divine Grace finally returned to this world, only that they did in a mortal body. That impostor that every soul on Teyvat made their goal to catch? It turned out to be the real and mighty Overlord!"

The Fatui raised her head in disbelief, watching him as he laughed like a maniac.

"But Liyue was the lucky winner; they managed to grab them and display their headless body for every habitant to see!" He took one step closer to the glass, smiling every time lightning illuminated the scenery. "It's just now that the other nations are finding this out... Inazuma might've been the first, as the only thing covering the skies are the mournful thunder and lightning from the lady that holds their power. Ah, she truly must feel like her heart is being ripped out at these news!"

As if agreeing with him, the sky roared a few times.

"She can grieve all she wants. Morax could've been the executioner, but the rest of them also raised their weapons and didn't hesitate to hurt the Divine One even when they claimed innocence asked for mercy."

She didn't know what to say. Was this true? Their almighty god, their benevolent and loving one... Had already descended and was killed because people simply didn't believe it?

"This is going to be fun." Dottore hummed. "I almost can't wait for when the other archons discover what transpired. Will they unleash their fury and sorrow upon Liyue? Hehe, I sure hope this storm marks the beginning of the end."

He turned around and started to exit the room, but not before giving the soldier under him his last command.

"Wait for the next ship to Snezhnaya to deliver a letter. Inform the Tsaritsa that even though her efforts to reach our Divine One to aid them were hindered by the other archons, this time we can all protect the most precious gift they've left for us."

She looked at him quizzically but made no comment to refuse him.

"That's right." He laughed. "We'll take care of them while the rest of the world crumbles and destroys itself..."

——————————

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noyaspeach · 8 months

Text

first light

Summary: Could this be how every day begins?

After a long and restless night with no sleep, you go looking for something to while away the hours. As it turns out, Astarion is just as much of an insomniac as you are, and the two of you spend the early morning together.

Pairing: Astarion x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 4,334

Tags: Fluff and Light Angst, Pining, Feelings Realization (Kinda?), Second Person POV, Soft Astarion, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Insomnia, Watching the Sunrise

Author's Note:

not me returning to fic-writing over 3 years later with an astarion fic of all things. i can't even guarantee i'll write another one considering i'm about to start college again, but i would sure like to!

i was heavily inspired to write this because of the release of hozier's album. it perfectly aligned with me becoming obsessed with baldur's gate 3, and astarion is just so hozier-coded, how could i not? as the title suggests, i was inspired by the song "first light" which is the last song on the album, based on dante's ascent out of hell and his first taste of light and freedom. i imagine it's how astarion must have felt when he was no longer forced to do cazador's bidding and when he could finally experience sunlight again.

obligatory disclaimers: i haven't actually played the game yet, so this fic is informed by clips i've seen online, gif sets, the baldur's gate wiki, and other fics. if any details in this aren't chronologically sound or if anything seems a little non-compliant with the canon of the game... now you know why lol.

still, i hope you enjoy it! this is also posted to ao3! read here!

///

You stare up at the ceiling of your tent, frustration rolling in your chest as you struggle to rest. Your eyes are beginning to sting with the lack of sleep, but simply closing them does nothing to help. You’ve gone through all of your belongings twice already, looking for something to ease you into slumber, but no amount of reading or alcohol seems to do the trick. It certainly doesn’t help that the weather has been oppressively humid all night, leaving you coated in a thin, sticky layer of sweat that doesn’t seem to leave you no matter how many layers you shed.

You can’t bear to lay around in the thick air of your tent, so you decide to sit out by the extinguished campfire in the hopes that it will do more to relax you.

You quietly open your tent flap and emerge into the mild morning air. It’s much cooler outside, and a light breeze tickles your arm, already doing wonders to dry your sweat. It’s still too early for daylight, so the camp is only dimly illuminated by the moonlight. With the lack of light, you listen out for the sounds of the forest around you: the chirps of insects beneath you, hooting owls in the distance, and a trickling stream not too far away. Focusing on these scarce sounds, you already feel much calmer.

After a moment of peace, you hear a rustle to your right. You whip your head toward the sound, hands ready at your weapon, when you see a familiar face emerge from the trees. You let your hands drop to your side again. It’s just Astarion. He appears to be returning to his tent, noticeably empty-handed. You wonder what he’s up to this early in the morning, and he seems to be wondering the same thing, eyeing you with an inquisitive raise of the eyebrow.

“Restless sleeper, are we?” He remarks.

“Something like that,” you reply. “Just needed some fresh air.”

You notice that Astarion is still in his sleepwear, the sleeves of his white undershirt pushed up above his elbows. “And what are you doing out?”

“Oh, you know. Searching for a midnight snack, so to speak.” He gestures to the woods behind him. “Unfortunately, there isn’t a very fine selection tonight.”

You grimace at the thought of Astarion catching an innocent woodland creature between his teeth. It’s a less-than-flattering image, one that’s informed by the memory of the boar he drained a while back, and one that you’re eager to dismiss.

“Is that all you’ve been up to?” You ask.

“Why? Were you getting lonely without me?” He teases. You can only roll your eyes in response. When he doesn’t receive a retort, Astarion sighs and continues. “Right, if you want an honest answer, I was going for a stroll to pass the time.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Wandering about on your own while everyone’s asleep isn’t a very good idea. If something happens out there, none of us will be able to save you”

“Trust me, darling, I can hold my own just fine. But I appreciate you worrying about my safety. It’s almost touching.” He smirks. “I would appreciate it even more if you would refrain from telling the others about my… routine here. I don’t exactly want the company.”

“Routine? How long have you been taking these walks?”

“Since the day I joined you all, I would say.” Astarion’s eyes move to the entrance of his own tent. “I haven’t been able to get much sleep myself, and I figure there isn’t much use laying on my bedroll if I’m not resting or satisfying… other needs. So, I walk. And occasionally feed.”

You search Astarion’s face for any sign of deception, but he’s being surprisingly truthful, if a little bashful. You resonate with his sleeplessness, being something of an insomniac yourself. Despite the immense toll your travels have taken on your body, you can’t seem to rest very easily at all, especially when you need it the most. Whether it’s the vivid memories of past battles replaying in your dreams, the smothering climate of whatever campsite you’ve picked out that night, or the relentless wriggling of the tadpole in your head, there’s always something keeping you up.

“I’m surprised I haven’t caught you earlier, then,” you say. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you,” says Astarion. He smiles, and it seems he means it too. “Well, seeing as neither one of us will be getting to bed anytime soon, would you care to join me?”

You cross your arms. “I thought you would have preferred to be alone.”

“Misery loves company and all. I think I can make an exception for a fellow night owl,” he drawls.

You agree to walk with him then and quietly head in the opposite direction of both tents. You’re sure to bring your weapon with you in the off chance that something—or someone—attacks the two of you. A very small part of you still garners some suspicion for Astarion himself, especially considering that night in which he tried to feed from you while you slept. Perhaps that’s another factor in your insomnia; although you let Astarion drink his fill that night, you can’t be entirely sure he won’t try it again. That he won’t succeed in creeping up on you and draining you completely.

You shiver at the thought, but pass it off as a cold chill from the wind. As the two of you slowly move from the campsite, your surroundings become even quieter. The chirping insects from before are silent now, and the nearby stream is barely a whisper. You can hardly hear either of your footsteps. It’s at once peaceful and unsettling.

After a few short minutes, you’re the first to break the silence. “What do you usually do when you’re out here?”

Astarion thinks for a moment, and hums. “Hmm. Aside from hunting, I suppose I just sit with my thoughts. There isn’t much else to do, is there?”

You nod, but somehow you don’t think being left with one’s own thoughts is particularly relaxing for anyone in your party. You can’t imagine it’s any good for Astarion, especially.

“And what do you think about?”

“So much,” he says. “Plans, mostly. Where our next destination is, where I’ll find my next meal, what I’ll do when we reach Baldur’s Gate, how to get rid of this wretched parasite…”

“Do you ever think about your past?”

Astarion’s gaze is a bit distant until you ask that. He slows his pace and turns to you, looking unusually serious. “I prefer not to.”

He leaves it at that, so you decide not to push further. You only know a little about Astarion’s life before the tadpole entered his mind. You know he’s the spawn of an even more powerful vampire, a master to whom he was a slave for nearly 200 years, and you know he’s lived in the shadows up until now. It isn’t lost on you that this entire adventure is his first taste of freedom in centuries. You understand why he would rather focus on the future. Still, your nagging curiosity makes you desperate for more information about him.

“What about you, my dear?” He returns to his more amused attitude. “What do you do in that tent of yours to pass the time until the morning comes? Don’t tell me if it’s anything naughty… Actually, do.”

You shake your head and suppress a smile as he actually almost earns a laugh from you. “Nothing like that. I normally just try to distract myself until I can hopefully fall back asleep. Read something, sort my wares, hum a tune. Anything to relax.”

“I take it that hasn’t been working for you?”

“No. Not one bit. I’m actually kind of worried it might start affecting my performance from now on. Unlike some of the elves in this team, I actually need quite a lot of rest.”

“A true shame,” he tuts. “Although it is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, I don’t need to sleep for very long. On the other, I can’t sleep for very long. Sometimes I do wish I could simply let the whole day pass while I doze off. That would be much easier than just waiting it out.”

You hadn’t considered this. While the rest of your traveling companions are able to sleep through the night, Astarion has no choice but to wait for everyone to wake up around sunrise. All he can do is hope to get a few hours of rest before sitting through the unnerving silence of the night, the only unique sounds being the faint snores and mumbles that float from the other tents. You and he are alike in this struggle, but you at least are lucky enough to have a few nights when your exhaustion is bad enough to force you to bed.

“Well, taking a stroll like this is a good idea,” you finally say. “Thank you for inviting me along.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of Astarion’s lips. “Thank you for joining me. I will admit, it’s easier to pass the time with a… friend… by my side.”

Your heart swells at that word: “friend.” It’s a welcome upgrade from whatever you two might have been considered before.

A few minutes pass with the both of you chatting politely. As you walk, you make note of your surroundings to ensure that you don’t stray too far from camp or encounter any traps. This occupies your mind for a while, but Astarion seems to be running out of topics to discuss. Not wanting him to abandon your little trip just yet, you try to think of something to entertain him. Looking out at the forest and the sky in front of you, you notice that the moon has begun its descent into the trees, meaning morning is almost upon you two. This gives you an idea.

You stop and pivot to face Astarion. He stops too, surprised at your sudden pause.

“What is it?” He asks.

"Would you like to watch the sunrise with me?”

He’s taken aback only momentarily before he adopts his familiar flirtatious demeanor. “Trying to turn this into a romantic tryst, are you? If you want something more, you’ll have to be a little more direct than that.”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t mean anything by it. I want to know if you’ll sit and watch the sun come up with me. That’s all. It should be rising soon enough. It’s almost morning.”

He seems puzzled, his brows tightening and eyes scanning your face for any indication that you may be holding something back. When he doesn’t find anything, he settles back into an easy expression. “I seem to have misjudged. My apologies… Yes, I wouldn’t mind sitting with you.”

“Great.” You smile and begin to walk again. “I heard some water earlier, so I think there may be a stream near here. Maybe it’ll make for a nice spot.”

Astarion follows as you lead him closer to the sound of running water, and the two of you shortly come upon the stream. It’s a small, shallow brook that separates the woods from which you emerge and another expanse of trees on the other side. Right along the edge of the water is a line of smooth rocks big enough to sit on. It’s the perfect place to set up, you think.

The two of you find purchase on the edge of the rocks, feet just barely dangling off the side, hovering above the calmly flowing water. The rocks aren’t terribly big, so the two of you sit side-by-side, your knees close enough to touch. Across the brook, the trees begin to thin out, leaving a clear view of the horizon. You estimate that the sun will start its ascent in the next few minutes, but for now, the scene in front of you remains thinly bathed in moonlight.

In the quiet of the dawn, the moon casts its silvery glow on the world beneath it. Every blade of grass, every dewy flower, every mossy stone radiates with a hazy blue hue. The stream beneath you reflects this onto both of your faces, and you give a sideways glance to your companion next to you. You watch as the light dances across his cheeks, admiring how it shines in his curls, how it glistens in his deep red eyes, and how it collects in the space just above his lips. You inhale and the earthy scent of the forest mixes with the smell of Astarion’s perfume in your nose. As you do so, you realize now just how close in proximity you are to him. You’re close enough to trace his silhouette from the slope of his nose to his slender neck with your fingers if you so choose. You glimpse at the puncture marks just below his jaw and remember once more the night you let him drink from you. You remember the moment you awoke in terror before you realized who was crouched above you. You remember the uncertainty you felt as you gave him permission to continue, not sure whether it was a wise decision or not. You remember the sharp sting of his teeth entering your skin and the almost exhilarating dizziness that followed as he coaxed your blood out with his tongue. The rest of that moment is a blur to you, but you can still distinctly recall how he cradled your head with one hand, the other gently ghosting down your spine. For almost a full day after that night, the smell of bergamot and rosemary lingered on your neck.

“You do know staring is rude, don’t you, darling?” Astarion says. “Not that I particularly mind.” He leans back on his arms and turns to face you. “Not when it’s you.”

Your cheeks flush in spite of the cool temperature. You wonder when it was you became so vulnerable to Astarion’s flirting. Even though you have, you try not to entertain it. After all, you suspect his charming behavior is at least partly a ruse.

“Sorry,” you mutter and look back at the horizon. “It’s very pretty out. It’ll be even prettier in just a few more minutes, too. We’re in the perfect spot to watch the sun come up.”

“Is that so?” Astarion tilts his head as he continues to behold you. “You know, I’ve never watched the sunrise like this.”

You twist to look at him again, utterly shocked. “Seriously? Not once?”

He shakes his head.

“How come?”

He sighs. “I’m sure I must have before… everything. But I can’t seem to remember anything from back then. I lost most of my memories when I was brought back, save for a few of the important details. I suppose sunrises weren’t important enough to stick.” He frowns and stares out at a canopy of trees in the distance. “Then, as you know, it would have been incredibly stupid for me to be out in the light with this condition of mine. So, I never tried. I didn’t have very many opportunities to do so, in any case.”

Your brow furrows, but you don’t say anything. Instead, you let Astarion continue at his own pace.

“...I spent decades in my master’s lair, a- a dungeon, really. I was trapped in the darkness. The only time I was allowed out was when he needed fresh, new bodies, and even then it was always under the cover of night. For the longest time, that was all that I knew. In a way, it’s what I’m still used to…”

Suddenly his sleeplessness makes all the more sense to you.

“I know I’m free from that now, what with the tadpole and all, but…” He trails off. You understand.

After several beats of silence, you clear your throat.

“Once, when I was a child, I went playing in the woods with some of the other children in the village. There were maybe six of us in total? I don’t exactly remember. But we marched all the way from the market to the forest pretending we were a band of heroes. I was at the back of the line, right behind this boy that I really liked. I put myself there on purpose so that I could smile and blush as much as I wanted without him seeing me.”

“How cute,” Astarion comments with a quirked eyebrow.

“Yeah. I mean, I thought I was being clever, but it was pretty silly, wasn’t it? Anyways, when we entered the woods, we decided to split off into teams to see who could find the most ‘treasure.’ We just plucked up sticks, flowers, beetles, pinecones, that kind of stuff. I was paired with the boy I liked, and I was so giddy about it. I wanted to show him just how cool I was, so I climbed up every tree and jumped off every rock. Just hearing him laugh and clap for me was enough for me to keep going. So, I did. Before we knew it, we realized we had strayed too far from the rest of the group. We tried to call out to them but heard nothing in return. We were lost.”

You pause your story to get a brief look at Astarion. You half-expect him to be bored by this point, but you’re surprised to see that he’s giving you his full attention. He waves his hand, signaling for you to continue.

“We started playing late into the evening, so by the time we realized that we had no clue where we were, the sun had already begun to set. I remember cursing myself for wishing I could have some alone time with this boy because that wasn’t at all what I had had in mind. But, alas, that was the situation I was stuck in. When it reached midnight and we still hadn’t made our way back to the village, I started panicking. You should know that I used to be deathly afraid of the forest at night. I was terrified of what kind of creatures could be hiding, waiting to snatch me up and eat me alive.”

“Hmm, like vampires?” Astarion teases.

You smirk. “Precisely. You’ll remember, though, that I was stuck with the boy I liked. So, there was no way I could show that I was scared. I couldn’t display any sign of weakness or else he might not think I was as cool as I let off. Knowing this, I put on a brave face and silently begged the gods for some protection before I assembled a makeshift camp for the two of us. It was, admittedly, very shitty, but it did its job of giving us some shelter for the night. I told him he could sleep and that I would keep watch, and so I did. I didn’t sleep very much back then, either, now that I think about it. I guess not a lot has changed about me… But I digress. I stayed up the whole night, sitting outside our little fort, listening to him snore and talk in his sleep. I don’t think I could have left his side if I wanted to, considering how petrified I was. But I powered through the fear, for his sake. I was so young, but I cared about this boy so much that I felt I owed it to him to make sure he was safe.”

“You were quite the hero, even back then,” Astarion says gently. “Is this little story your way of telling me to be more selfless?”

“Not at all. I’m getting to the point, I promise. I sat there for hours as I waited for it to become day again. Eventually, I was able to focus on the more beautiful parts of the night: the moon, the stars, the lightning bugs, the sweet whisper of the wind through the leaves. The more I searched for the good in my situation, the less scared I became, until I was no longer scared at all. By the time dawn rolled around, I was at peace, actually. I was so proud of myself for making it through the night, I immediately woke the boy up to share the moment with him. Then, we sat together, kind of like this,” You gesture to your and Astarion’s seating position, “and just watched the sunrise in perfect silence. I had never watched the sunrise before. It was so nice, getting to quietly enjoy such a wonderful view with someone I loved.”

As you finish your story, you face Astarion once more. His gaze is soft as he listens to you speak, and the tender curl of his lips betrays a sincere gratitude for having shared this with him.

“Did anything ever happen between you and that boy?” He asks.

“Sadly, no. He eventually fell for some other girl in town. Last I heard, they had three kids together.”

“Hmm.” Astarion angles his chin away from you. “Well, that’s his loss.”

You look away, too, and smile to yourself.

Suddenly, the sky begins to transform before your eyes. The first gleams of sunlight begin to caress the horizon as the moon takes its final bow behind you. The forest, still coated with all the glimmering remnants of morning dew, stirs from its slumber under the streams of the emerging sun. As the sun slowly rises, its warm embrace spreads like honey between the trees, flooding the forest floor with rays of pink and amber. Shafts of light pierce through the lush foliage, creating scintillating patterns on the surface of the water that seem to dance at the promise of a new day. Finally, when the sun peers at you from above the treetops, it’s as if the sky erupts. A burst of brilliance envelopes the world below it in its welcoming embrace, casting everything in a blazing golden light.

You begin to say something to Astarion but stop when you see his face. He looks positively radiant. His face glows in the daylight, appearing even more magnificent than he did in the moon’s silver beams. His face and his hair are colored by the sun, making him look more alive than he ever has before. Every detail from the strands in his eyebrows to the smallest of moles is illuminated before you. You watch as his eyes glisten before softly fluttering closed. He breathes deeply, his chest slowly rising and falling, and he basks in the sunlight. He relaxes completely, letting the sun’s rays melt away any and all tension he may have been holding on to.

You want nothing more than to cup his face in your hands, then, and feel the newly imbued warmth of his skin as you press your lips to his. Instead, however, you carefully place your hand on top of his. His eyes blink open and he turns to look at you once more. You hesitate for a moment, ready to move away, but he doesn’t reject you. His eyes crinkle with appreciation and he laces your fingers together before gently stroking his thumb against the side of your hand. His skin is still a bit cold, but thanks to you, it quickly warms up.

The two of you sit there in tranquility, taking in all of the sights, sounds, and feelings of the early morning. Time seems to slow, then, as if the universe itself also wishes to savor this serene moment for just a little while longer.

Soon, you hear the distant sound of casual conversation as the others awaken for yet another day of arduous traveling. You sigh, knowing that the two of you will have to return to camp shortly and leave all of this behind. You don’t want to let go just yet.

“We should probably get back,” Astarion says first. “I wouldn’t want the others to think that I killed you and scurried off or something like that.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be very good for morale,” you joke. After a moment, you reluctantly untwine your fingers and push yourself up off the rocks. You extend a hand to Astarion to help him up, which he graciously accepts.

Neither of you moves at first until Astarion takes a step toward you. Standing so close to you, you wonder if he’s about to kiss you when he gingerly takes hold of your hands. He gives you that sincere smile again.

“Thank you again for this. It was… nice.” You almost can’t believe how vulnerable he seems right now, eyes staring into yours with no hint of false pretenses. “I’d like to do this again with you, if you’ll join me.”

“I would love to.”

“Wonderful,” he says. He lets go of you. “Shall we then?”

The two of you take your time walking back to the campsite, talking idly about what the next few days have in store. When you arrive, Karlach is the first to notice you.

“There you two are! We were beginning to worry.” She looks between you both and crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes mischievously. “Anything we should know about your disappearance?”

You chuckle. “Nothing that would excite you, Karlach.”

You walk past her and approach your tent. The rest of your team is already getting to work cleaning their weapons, armor, and other equipment, preparing to hunt, or strategizing together. Before you duck inside to retrieve your clothes for washing, you turn back and lock eyes with Astarion. He’s entered a conversation between Shadowheart and Gale, but he isn’t all that engaged. He shoots you a knowing look and another small smile which you return in kind.

As you wash your clothes in the river just south of the camp, you think fondly of the promise you’ve now made with Astarion and the many sunrises to come. Suddenly, insomnia doesn’t seem so bad.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion baldur's gate #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #i want to give astarion so much love pls

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dragonagitator · 6 months

Text

Timeline of major events during Gale Dekarios's lifetime

Here is my attempt to compile a timeline of major events that took place during Gale's lifetime, including his personal history, happenings in his hometown of Waterdeep, and major world events that would have affected him personally or affected everyone in Faerun. I hope this is useful in writing your Gale-centric fanfics!

The time period covered assumes that Gale is 40 years old during the events of BG3 and thus was born in the year 1452 DR. AFAIK there's no canon age given for Gale, but most fanons seem to peg him as being between 35 and 45, so I went with the middle of that range. Please feel free to adjust his estimated age for each event up or down depending on how old you think he is in BG3, e.g., if you think he's 38 then subtract 2 years, if you think he's 42 then add 2 years, etc.

Some of the more interesting implications of this timeline revolve around how much Mystra's powers and presence in the world significantly changed during Gale's lifetime. When Gale was a child or teen and first attracted the attention of Mystra, she was weak, not in contact with her Chosen, and assumed to be dead by most of the world. Gale was ~27 years old and already her lover by the time a "much diminished" Mystra called to Elminster for help, and Gale was ~35 years old when Mystra fully regained her powers as the Goddess of Magic. She seems to have dumped him shortly thereafter.

Detailed timeline and sources under the cut. It's long.

Most of the text that isn't specifically about Gale is copypasted from the Forgotten Realms wiki. See bottom for links. I haven't read all the novels and modules referenced by the wiki for these events yet and thus will likely need to revise this timeline as I work my way through those.

Birth to age ~27: until 1479 DR worldwide: Mystra was generally considered to be "dead"/missing during Gale's childhood and early adulthood because Mystra/Midnight was "murdered" by Cyric in 1385 DR (67 years before Gale was born).

However, Forgotten Realms canon of Mystra's timeline clashes with what Gale tells us about the timeline of his relationship with her:

Gale: "Once upon a time, not quite that long ago, there lived a wizard in a tower. The wizard was what one might call a prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, much like a musician or a poet. Such was my skill that it earned me the attention of the mother of magic herself. The Lady of Mysteries. The goddess Mystra. She revealed herself to me and she became my teacher. In time, she became my muse, and later, even my lover." PC: "What did Mystra's attention feel like?" Gale: "Love. Perhaps it was not quite love, but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. It was most certainly love to him."

Speaking as a middle-aged person myself, while most 40-year-olds would consider 27 to be "young," the modifier of "very" suggests he that was much younger than 27 when he first became Mystra's lover. I'm older than the oldest estimates for Gale's age and I still wouldn't characterize myself at age 27 as being "but a very young woman." That description seems more fitting for someone in their late teens / early 20s.

Also, if he was "but a very young man" when they became lovers, then that means he was even younger (a child or teenager) when she first revealed herself to him and started teaching him magic.

So Gale's relationship with Mystra must have started during the period that the rest of the world believed she was dead or missing. Mystra did still have some sort of disembodied "presence" during this period, so maybe she was simply not able or interested in speaking to Elminster or her other previously established Chosen. Or perhaps she was fragmented, and Gale's relationship began with one of those fragments? Part of her "presence" ended up possessing a bear, but I'm assuming not the part that Gale was fucking.

Birth to age ~30: until 1482 DR worldwide: Gale was born and grew up during the "Era of Upheaval," which was known for widespread wild magic and dead magic zones, a lot of changes in the pantheon of deities, and a lot of wars and political conflicts amongst mortals.

Age ~16: c. 1468 DR in Waterdeep: "Dagult Neverember, the richest man in the city, became Open Lord."

Age ~27: 1479 DR in Waterdeep: "By this year, the Field Ward had been established, and Skullport was no longer inhabited."

Age ~27: 1479 DR in Waterdeep: "The 8th walking statue, the Griffon, appeared in Waterdeep and to defend Ahghairon's Tower. It eventually settled down near the Peaktop Aerie on Mount Waterdeep and eventually became a landmark of the city."

Age ~27: 1479 DR in western Cormyr [roughly 1050 miles / 1690 km southeast of Waterdeep]: "While recuperating in a cabin in the King's Forest, Elminster felt Mystra's presence calling to him. He found her much diminished, possessing the body of a bear that had guarded a cache of items Mystra's still-mortal form had collected. She asked her most trusted servant to find new candidates to become Chosen and to recruit Cormyr's War Wizards. Only a few weeks later, having been restored to his full powers as a Chosen by absorbing the silver fire of the dying Symrustar Auglamyr and then that of the Simbul and Manshoon, Elminster returned to Mystra (in agony from absorbing too much of it) and returned much of it to the Lady of Mysteries, restoring much of her power and divinity. This event became known as Mystra's Return."

I'm assuming that Elminster's acquaintance with Gale must have begun sometime after this because otherwise you'd think Gale would have mentioned "oh yeah she's not actually dead, we've been banging for a while now."

Mystra reestablishing contact Elminster, regaining some of her power, and the rest of the world learning that she was alive is pretty huge and therefore must have been a significant turning point in her relationship with Gale as well.

I'm also assuming that Gale did not become one of Mystra's official Chosen until after this, since it seems like Mystra's Chosen weren't active while she was laying low and letting the world think she was dead?

Ages ~30 to ~35: 1482 DR to 1487 DR worldwide: "The Second Sundering, also known as the Sundering of Toril and Abeir, was a great catastrophic event in the history of the worlds of Abeir and Toril."

Age ~32: 1484 DR worldwide: "Most of the gods created many Chosen among mortals, trying to gather as much power as possible to be as high in divine ranking as they could before Ao completed the new Tablets of Fate, sealing their status and portfolio. People started to claim they had been 'chosen' by the gods and granted special powers, some apparently for 'divine purposes' while others had no idea why."

It's possible that Gale was recruited to be a Chosen of Mystra by Elminster per Mystra's instructions to Elminster to find candidates, but given that the gods were also choosing people directly during this period and that Mystra had a preexisting relationship with Gale, she may have also Chosen him directly herself. Poor Elminster out there trying to find the best candidates and then Mystra surprises him by adding her boyfriend to the roster. Gale being a nepotism hire despite having otherwise been qualified would be pretty funny.

Age ~34: 1486 DR in Waterdeep: "Neverwinter and Waterdeep began to clear the rubble in their cities that had built up over a century of neglect."

Hey, remember when Gale said that he used to be able to levitate an entire tower back when he was an archmage? Maybe this is when he was doing stuff like that.

Age ~35: 1487 DR worldwide: "Stars reportedly fell from the sky, gods long thought dead walked the land and armies led by Chosen clashed everywhere. Major geological instability resulted in numerous earthquakes and volcanoes, as the worlds of Abeir and Toril were separated once again, and areas once consumed by large chasms were restored to their pre-Spellplague status. Ships arrived on the mainland continent from Evermeet, Halruaa, Lantan, and Nimbral—all realms previously thought lost to Toril."

Age ~35: 1487 DR in Candledeep [roughly 650 miles / 1050 km south of Waterdeep] : "In an attempt to fully restore the goddess Mystra and the Weave, Elminster Aumar began his search for Khelben Arunsun's writings on the Weave, heading towards Candlekeep. Laeral and Alustriel Silverhand had also been hiding within the library: the two sisters' duty was to prepare their own destruction, so that no one could use their power to gain control over the Weave." ... "The energies of the destroyed Wards were absorbed by the Shadow King, who then left for Myth Drannor, followed by the three Chosen of Mystra."

Although Gale was likely a Chosen of Mystra by this point, he wasn't one of the three mentioned here.

Age ~35: 1487 DR in Myth Drannor [roughly 1350 miles / 2170 km east of Waterdeep]: "Meanwhile in Myth Drannor, Larloch, the Netherese, and the Chosen of Mystra (allied with the elves) clashed in a catastrophic battle." ... "As Elminster defeated Tanthul in a mage duel, the Netherese enclave crashed atop Myth Drannor. Elminster himself was saved by Mystra, who gained full control over the Weave once more, stopping Shar from turning it into a new Shadow Weave."

Age ~35: 1487 DR worldwide: "As 1487 DR came to a close, the Second Sundering ended with the full return of Mystra and the Weave, the separation of the worlds Abeir and Toril."

Gale was not a character in the novel about these events so any personal involvement would have been minor, but I'm including them in his timeline because he would have been impacted by the "full return" of Mystra to the world. I imagine he would have experienced many of the same issues that spouses of someone just elected to a high-level office go through.

Gale's lack of personal involvement in Mystra's restoration despite being her Chosen AND her lover is kinda weird, which makes me wonder if things were already starting to sour between them? I really wish that I could lock Ed Greenwood and Jan Van Dosselaer in a room together until they came up with a coherent explanation for what the fuck Gale was up to while all this was going down.

Age ~35 to ~39: 1487 DR to 1491 DR: Sometime during this period must have been when Mystra dumped Gale and he went looking for a lost bit of Weave to win her back but got a Netherese orb lodged in his chest instead.

Mystra was newly back to her full power as the Goddess of Magic and laying down the law, and Gale didn't take that very well:

Gale: "We enjoyed each other's company - body, mind and soul. But even so, I desired more. You see, no matter how powerful a wizard we mortals can become, we never scratch more than the surface of the Weave. Mystra keeps us in check. There are boundaries she doesn't let us cross. Yet every time I was with her, I stood on the precipice, gazing into the wonders that lay beyond. I sought to cross her boundaries." PC: "How exactly did you try to cross those boundaries?" Gale: "I tried to convince her. I pouted, I pleaded, I swore my ambition was only to serve her better. But she only smiled and told me to be contented. As inconceivable as it seems to me now, I shared a bed with a goddess and yet I wasn't satisfied. So I sought to prove myself worthy to her instead."

Gale's description of what happened after she dumped him sounds like it took place over a multi-year period, since I'm assuming that he had to spend some time searching for the "tome of gateways":

Gale: "The goddess spurned the mortal. The veils were drawn once more, and the wizard was left behind heartbroken." ... "Poor wizard. Silly wizard too, for he wouldn't take no for an answer. Like so many of the heartbroken, he did something infinitely foolish. One has to think big if one seeks to win back a goddess. So the wizard thought big." PC: "Define big." Gale: "Here goes: Once upon a time, very long ago, a mighty lord lived in a tower. A flying tower to be precise. I'll save his story for another time, but the gist of it is that he sought to usurp the goddess of magic so that he could become a god himself. He almost managed, but not quite, and his entire empire - Netheril - came crashing down around him as he turned to stone. The magic unleashed that day was phenomenal, roiling like the prime chaos that outdates creation. A fragment of it was caught and sealed away in a book. No ordinary book, mind you: a tome of gateways that contained within it a bubble of Astral Plane. It was a fragment of primal Weave locked out of time - locked away from Mystra herself. 'What if', the silly wizard thought, 'What if after all this time, I could return this lost part of herself to the goddess?'" PC: "What was the answer to his question?" Gale: "The answer was to try, and the outcome was to fail."

Not sure how much Gale was around for the next few events, since he might have been gallivanting around the Astral Plane looking for the tome instead of spending time in Waterdeep. But one assumes he'd notice the physical changes to the city whenever he returned, and that he'd hear about local news from his mother and Tara, so he would certainly be aware that these things happened.

Age ~37: 1489 DR in Waterdeep: "In response to increasing dragon and cultist activity, the Council of Waterdeep was formed, bringing together representatives of realms from all across the Sword Coast. The threat of the Cult of the Dragon was driven home when Masked Lord Arthagast Ulbrinter was assassinated, though it inspired more resolve than fear. In the midst of these events, Open Lord Dagult Neverember was ousted by a vote of the Lords of Waterdeep, replaced by Laeral Silverhand. Although Waterdeep was largely spared due to the dragonward, the Field Ward was still burned to ashes by dragon attacks, displacing huge numbers of people."

Age ~38: 1490 DR in Waterdeep: "The cloud giant castle of Count Nimbolo and Countess Mulara appeared out of clouds and hovered over Waterdeep for a while, triggering mass panic. Heralds sent out by Lady Laeral Silverhand tried to calm citizens and promise that there was no danger. In fact, the giants wanted to research Waterdeep's history and meet its leaders, as they search for traces of the ancient giant realm of Ostoria."

Age ~39: 1491 DR in the Astral Plane (I think?): Gale finds the "tome of gateways" and becomes afflicted with the Netherese orb:

Narrator: "You see through Gale's eyes, staring down the corridors of a dread memory. A book, bound, then suddenly opened. Inside there are no pages, only a swirling mass of blackest Weave that pounces. It's teeth, it's claws, it's unstoppable as it digs through you and becomes part of you. And gods, is it ever-hungry…"

Age ~39: 1491 DR in Waterdeep: Gale begins a year-long isolation in his tower in Waterdeep and eventually stops communicating with anyone except Tara. Not sure exactly when his isolation began relative to the other events of this year, so he may or may not have been personally affected by or even aware of some of the Waterdeep events below.

Age ~39: 1491 DR in Waterdeep: "The returned Eilistraee appeared under the walls of Waterdeep causing an influx in the amount of her followers in the city. They eventually sought out Remallia Haventree and asked her for a holy forest-glade in the ruins of the Field Ward. By Mirtul, the housing crisis in Waterdeep had worsened as a mysterious sickness killed or drove out all of the inhabitants of Downshadow, the Field Ward remained desolated by dragonfire, and Mistshore was burned down by agents of Masked Lord Braethan Cazondur, rendering all three unofficial wards uninhabitable."

Age ~39: 1491 DR in Waterdeep: "Fear threatened to overtake Waterdeep once again as the cloud giant castle of Burruld hovered over the ocean near the city. After the Blackstaff Vajra Safahr panicked and threatened the giants, Open Lord Laeral Silverhand calmed the situation, negotiated with Burruld, and learned that their purpose was to search for the lost daughter of King Skyvald, Princess Irie."

Age ~39: 1491 DR in Waterdeep: "In mid-Mirtul, numerous Masked Lords and other people were gruesomely assassinated as part of Cazondur's conspiracy to seize control of the city. Open Lord Laeral Silverhand, assisted by Elminster and Mirt, worked to maintain order in the city while investigating the murders. While attempting to apprehend Cazondur, Laeral herself was killed and disintegrated by a surprisingly simple trap involving falling rocks, but recovered with Elminster's assistance. An exceedingly dramatic showdown at the Palace of Waterdeep between Laeral and Cazondur in front of assembled servants, nobles and guildmasters resulted in Cazondur's death at the hands of an unexpected third party, Xanathar agents Belvarra Bowmantle and Suthool. Including Cazondur, a total of thirteen Masked Lords and scores of others were slain, and several more Lords publicly unmasked."

Please note that our best guess for the location of Gale's tower puts it couple blocks away from Mirt's Mansion and Gale has mentioned being a patron of the Yawning Portal Tavern, so it seems likely that Gale and Mirt would have been acquainted. If Gale was already in isolation by the time all this went down, perhaps Elminster and Mirt tried dropping by Gale's tower at some point but were repelled by the wards that Gale had set up to keep everyone away? Gale seemed very certain that no one cared about him enough to check on him but I wonder how much of that was the depression talking.

Age ~39: 1491 DR in Waterdeep: "A delegation from the city of Mirabar disappeared while en route to the city, having been waylaid by cultists of the Elder Elemental Eye."

Age ~40: 1492 DR in Waterdeep: Gale abruptly departs his tower and doesn't tell anyone where he's going per Tara's line in his origin, "You left the tower in such a hurry, and you didn't leave an address."

Age ~40: 1492 DR in Yartar [roughly 310 miles / 500 km north of Waterdeep as the crow flies]: Gale is kidnapped by the nautiloid. As explained in a previous post, I believe that he was headed north to find an unpopulated area to die and explode in.

Sources:

FR wiki: Gale Dekarios

FR wiki: Era of Upheaval

FR wiki: Second Sundering

FR wiki: Mystra

FR wiki: Mystra (Midnight)

FR wiki: History of Waterdeep

FR wiki: Yartar

BG3 datamined dialogue transcripts

Map of Faerun

Sad headcanons posted to Tumblr by various people over the past few months that I unfortunately didn't save links to. If you saw something in here that you've posted about then I probably got the idea from you. Please feel free to drop links in the comments so people can read the original post(s) about it, thanks!

#BG3 #Baldur's Gate 3 #Forgotten Realms #Waterdeep #Gale #Gale of Waterdeep #Gale Dekarios #Gale BG3 #BG3 Gale #bg3 fanfic writing resources #Elminster #Mystra #the autism won today

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familyabolisher · 10 months

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hi! i'm a follower, & i enjoy reading your posts and essays. in your recent post about the anti-intellectualism kerfuffle on tumblr, you said, "Part of my communism means believing in the abolition of the university; this is not an ‘anti-intellectual’ position but a straightforwardly materialist one."

i haven't heard of university abolition before, and if you are willing, i would like to hear what it's about. what is the university abolitionist image of a better alternative to universities? should learning still be centralized?

thanks for your consideration. :)

University abolition, as with any other form of abolition worth its salt, understands the role played by the institution of the university under capitalism in sustaining the conditions of capitalist-imperialist hegemony, analyses the institution accordingly, and recognises that the practices that the university purports to represent (that of intellectual production, the sharing and developing of knowledge) will undergo a fundamental overhaul and reconstitution under communism. This means looking at the university not merely as an organic institution wherein we study and develop ideas, but asking what ideas are developed and legitimised, and who is afforded the opportunity to do so, and why the university exists in the first place; we are taking a materialist rather than idealist approach.

Simply put, the role of the university is to restrict access to knowledge and knowledge production, and to ensure the continuance of class divides and hierarchised labour. These restrictions come about in a vast number of ways; the most immediately obvious is the fact that one must meet a certain set of criteria in order to qualify for entrance in the first place, and this criteria tends to require compliance with the schooling system (itself another such arm of capitalist governance), a certain amount of wealth (and/or a willingness to accrue debt), and an ability to demonstrate methods of intellectual engagement compliant with the standard of the academy. Obviously, there are massive overlaps in this set of criteria; those who come from wealthier backgrounds are more likely to have had a good education and thus can better demonstrate normative intellectual engagement, those who can demonstrate that engagement have probably complied with the schooling system, and so on. The logic behind the existence of private schools is the idea that sufficient wealth can near-enough secure your child's entry into the university and therefore entry into the wealthier classes as an adult, with the most prestigious institutions overrun by students from privately educated backgrounds. Already, you can see how this is a tactic that filters out people from marginalised backgrounds; if you’re too poor, too un[der]educated, too disabled, not white enough, &c. &c., your chances of admittance into higher education grow slimmer and slimmer.

Access to the university affords access to knowledge; most literally through institutional access to books, papers, libraries, but also through participation in lectures and seminars, reading lists, first-hand contact with active academics, the opportunity to produce work and receive feedback on it, the opportunity to develop your own ideas in a socially legitimised sphere. As I explained above, who is afforded access to such knowledge is stratified and limited; the institution is hostile to anyone deemed socially disposable under capitalism. Access to the university also affords access to a university degree, with which you can continue down the research path (and thus participate in the cycle of radical knowledge-production being absorbed and defanged by the academy, and water down your own ideas to make them palatable to institutions which tend to balk at anything with serious Marxist commitments), or gain entry to better-paid, more stable, more prestigious jobs than those which people without degrees are most often relegated to. In this sense, the people who are more likely to be able to meet the access criteria for the university and then successfully participate in it are able to retain their class position (or else promulgate the myth of social mobility as a solution to mass impoverishment) and thus gain a vested interest in maintaining the conditions of hegemony. Those who gain entry into the middle class have done so after undergoing a process of stratification according to means; which is to say, class, race, [dis]ability; and tend to lose interest in defending a politic which seeks to destabilise their relatively privileged position in the pecking order.

Success in a research career, too, depends upon liberties afforded by wealth; can you afford to go to all these conferences, do low-paid and insecure teaching work in the university, churn out research, and support yourself through a postgrad degree without going insane? Not if you don’t have independent means. In the UK, the gap between undergrad and masters funding is absolutely wild—obviously there are scholarships afforded to a limited number of people (another access barrier—the whole institution runs on the myth of artificial scarcity), but broadly speaking, it’s pretty much impossible to put yourself through an MA with just the money you get from SFE unless you work a lot on the side to pay your bills (this is what I tried to do; I went insane and dropped out, lmfao) or have independent wealth. Establishing oneself as an ‘academic’ is simply easier when you have financial security. In this way, the people who make it to the very top of academia (the MAs, the PhDs) tend to be people who come from privileged backgrounds; people who are less likely to challenge hegemony, who will maintain the essential conditions by which the university sustains itself, which is to say the conditions of social stratification. These people often tend to hold reactionary positions on class—the people who are outraged at how little a stipend postgrad students get tend not to think twice about the university’s cleaners being paid minimum wage, or think of working-class jobs as shameful failstates from which their academic qualifications have allowed them to escape (how many people have you heard get absolutely aghast at the thought of ‘[person with a BA/MA/PhD] working a typically working-class job’?). Academic success tends to engender buying into the mythology of academia as a class stratifier and class stratification as indicative of one’s value, even amongst people who probably call themselves academic Marxists.

Universities are also tangible forces of counterinsurgency. I live in the UK, where universities are huge drivers of gentrification; university towns and cities will welcome mass student populations, usually from predominantly middle-class backgrounds and often coming to cities with significant working-class and immigrant communities, neighbourhoods formerly home to those communities will be effectively cleaned out so that students can live there, and the whole character of the neighbourhood changes to accommodate people from well-off backgrounds who harbour classist, racist feelings towards the locals & who will assimilate into the salaried middle-class once they graduate. More liberally-oriented universities will tend to espouse putatively progressive positions whilst making no effort to forge a relationship with grassroots movements happening on the streets of the city they’re set up in; student politics absorbs anyone with even slightly radical inclinations whilst accomplishing approximately fuck-all save for setting a few people off on the NGO track; like, the institution defangs radical potential whilst contributing to the class stratification of the city it’s set up in.

This is without even touching on the role played by the university in maintaining conditions of imperialism and neocolonialism, both through academic output regarding colonised regions (from ‘Oriental studies’ to the proliferation of white academics who specialise in ‘Africa’ to the use of the Global South as something of a playground for white Global North academics to conduct their research to the history of epistemologies such as race science as transparently fortifying and legitimating the imperialist order) and through material means of restricting access to and production of knowledge based on country of origin (universities in the Global South are significantly limited in what academic output they can access compared to those in the Global North; engagement with Global North academia relies on the ability to move freely, something that is restricted by one’s passport; language barriers and the primacy of English in the Global North academy) keeping knowledge production in the Global South dependent on the hegemony of the North. Syed Farid Alatas has termed this ‘academic dependency,’ as a corollary to dependency theory; academia in the GS is shaped by the material dependence it has on the West, which in turn restricts the kind of academic work that can be undertaken in the first place. Ultimately, all institutions under capitalism must ultimately reroute back to the conditions that favour capitalism, and the university is not an exception.

This is just a very brief overview of an expansive topic; I would recommend going away and examining in greater detail the role played by the university under capitalism, and what the institution filters out, and why. What sort of research gets funding? What sort of knowledge gains social legitimacy? What can the university absorb and what must it reject? Who is producing knowledge and to whom are they accountable? etc.

#ask

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onskepa · 9 months

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Stxeli: new life.

Hi everyone! this is the ongoing series for mo'at's fic "a daughter for daughter". If ya'll read that one, it is like an overall cover of what stxeli life would be like. However, I wanna truly start it with this.

Stxeli series

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

Sun has once again shine brightly all across Pandora. A new day has begun. Mo'at and Eytukan were starting to awaken when they hear soft babbles of their little one, Stxeli. She was wide awake and was staring at them while having her little foot in her mouth. Both smile down at her cute face. Mo'at gently takes stxeli's foot out of her mouth, "You're feet is to move, not to eat ma'ite".

Eytukan looks at his long time mate. Her bright smile returned to her face. The sparkle is back in her amber eyes. Mo'at was back to being herself. And it was thanks to Eywa's gift. Stxeli was what they needed, she was the cure, the medicine, the answer to heal from their inner wounds. And Eytukan would do what it takes to make sure his new daughter wont ever suffer.

They went to where all the na'vi are, all having breakfast together. Neytiri was already there with tsu'tey and other children. Saying their good mornings, both leaders take a seat and began to eat. Mo'at was given some soft foods by recent mothers. Though mo'at worries if stxeli might not like the foods. Only one way to find out.

First she offers a bit of soft mushed fruit to stxeli, letting her nibble a bit before taking a whole bite. Mo'at sees it as a good sign and began to feed her more of it. Stxeli makes a happy sound as she noms away the mushed fruit.

Neytiri simply stared at little stxeli, not saying much. "You consider the child your sister?" Tsu'tey asks as he takes a bite of his food.

Neytiri took a long minute to answer, "I am not sure" and returns to eat.

Eytukan finished his meal first and faces mo'at, "mo'at, hand her to me, you must eat as we have a long day ahead of us". Agreeing, mo'at hands stxeli over to eytukan as she begins eats.

Stxeli made some babbling noise again, as if trying to talk to eytukan, to which, he is all ears for. He gently traces his little daughter's features, taking in her soft squishy cheeks, her smooth skin, and her little button nose that he likes to boop a lot.

"every morning you are always the first to be up" he tells her, mo'at looks at them both with a smile. "She enjoys the first morning sunlight rays".

After breakfast, mo'at would usually be the one to take stxeli with her as her main grounds is either the healing tents or visiting the spirit tree. Safe areas for stxeli.

And where ever she goes, the clan would stop and greet little stxeli. Many children would even ask to hold her, and mo'at would grant their little desires, as long as the mothers are near and mo'at guides them how to properly carry stxeli as she is smaller than a na'vi baby. Mo'at feels at east that the clan has accepted stxeli. Even better that the children seem to genuinely love her little girl.

Well, almost everyone.

Unfortunately, However, there would always be a bad fruit in the basket. Ateyo and Artsut. Tsu'tey's parents. Such stubborn people they are. They are the only ones who could never seem to accept stxeli yet.

And speak of the na'vi. When mo'at opened her tent, artsut was there. Frowning, mo'at asks "is there something you need artsut?". The woman in question turns to her. But artsut wasn't looking at mo'at, no, she was staring at stxeli with pure hatred in her eyes.

Stxeli was just playing with mo'at's songchord, being blissfully unaware the hate she is getting.

By motherly instinct, mo'at held her daughter closer to her, as means to protect her baby from the possible threat in front of her.

"I see you still haven't gotten rid of that demon" artsut hisses. Mo'at's tail swishes in anger, but does her best to be as composed as possible. To insult a child is to insult the mother.

"and why would I rid of my child? Eywa's gracious gift to me?", artsut scoffs. "A gift from our great mother, I dare say, don't be foolish tsahik. Why would Eywa accept those demons? That is what those demons want. To intertwin themselves with our people! That thing has your mind warped!".

Mo'at scoffs at such false accusations. Before artsut could say anymore, she was interrupted by a loud squeal from stxeli, sounds like she is a bit fussy. "If all you have come is to insult my child, then it is best you leave. I am only kind to your for the sake of your son. But dont try this again or I will have Olo'eyktan to speak with you".

For once, choosing the right thing, artsute leaves in huffing anger. Once mo'at finds the space safe, she puts stxeli down letting her explore the familiar place.

Whenever someone seeks mo'at for treatment, you can bet stxeli plays a important role. She distracts the patient while mo'at treats them. Stxeli would often play, talk, or be carried by the person. As means to keep themselves occupied and not be as in much pain.

Mo'at heals the physical wounds while stxeli heals in emotions. A nice duo. And mo'at already plans to teach stxeli the ways of a healer. She can see her darling girl treating others in time of need.

By the end of the day, curing the communal dinner, eytukan was holding stxeli, missing her all day as he did his duties. "have you been good for your mother" he gently asks to which stxeli answers in sounds only she can understand.

Mo'at chuckles as she smiles, "she has been doing well in assisting me". She turns to give neytiri more food but catches her child staring at stxeli again. Neytiri has been doing that since their new daughter arrived. "What is wrong ma'ite?" she asks. Neytiri doesnt turn to face her, but answers while staring at stexlie.

"nothing....nothing......" was all she said.

Mo'at hopes that neytiri can see the way she and eytukan sees stxeli. She prays to Eywa that neytiri will hopefully soon come to love her new sister.

Okie that is it for this one! Hope you all enjoyed it! Until next time! see ya!

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

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Wildest Dreams ~ Aemond x Wife!reader

request: an arranged marriage between yn and Aemond, where he has married her to win the favor of her house, but the war is on and he meets Alys and yn hears the rumors and when she hears Aemond talking about Alys with Alicent she understands that she is not a simple lover, she talks about it with Aemond and he has a certain affection for her so he tells her to have adventures if she wants to and she is heartbroken, but she does not take the offer, but Aemond thinks that eventually he will and continues with Alys until at a ball he sees yn talking to a lord of a noble house and is jealous that she eventually took up the offer. Happy or sad ending, you decide, I just want to read how you develop it. Thanks for your work! ~anon word count: 1.8k warning: angst omg, some spicy themes nothing explicit, jealous & possessive Aemond note: I really liked writing this, especially exploring the relationship between the reader and her sworn protector 🫣 you can read more of my work here 💚

My lady, my Alys.

That name haunts you. It slithers through the halls of the Red Keep. It lives in the pitying eyes of those who look upon you, the forgotten spouse of Aemond Targaryen. His wife. His princess. What a horrid sham it was now.

You knew Aemond to be a man of duty, you knew this when you married him. Though you hoped his affection for you would grow with time, you had never expected him to stray outside the marriage. He simply did not seem the type of man to do such a thing.

Until the war. Until Alys Rivers.

You knew the people of court were aware of the affair your husband was having with the so-called witch queen of Harrenhal.

It only became more apparent when he returned to court on Vhagar’s back, with his paramour securely against his back. Though you haven't seen your husband in months, as soon as you spotted her with him, you excused yourself from the celebrations around his return.

You ran to your chambers and hurriedly pushed by your sworn protector Ser Cassian who stood outside your door.

“My lady?” he asked, with a concerned look on his face as you made your way inside.

He noted the tears on your face. For a moment he hesitated with his hand on the door handle, preparing to close it as he heard your sobs from within. Instead, he released the handle, stepping inside your chambers.

“It pains me to see such a lovely lady crying,” Ser Cassian says as you face away from him.

“Yes well then I would advise you to avert your eyes,” you snap, bitterly.

Ser Cassian does not heed your advice, he simply stands in the doorway. You feel guilt begin to curl its way into your stomach, under your skin. You turn your head to him.

“You must forgive me, Ser,” you begin, keeping your gaze low, “that was unkind.”

Ser Cassian moves to close the door, and you hear his heavy footsteps make their way over to you.

You turn completely to face the knight, who now offers you a piece of cloth. Shame rolls through you at his act of kindness, as you offer him a small smile dabbing at the wetness that pools beneath your eyes.

“There is no need for apologies, my lady,” he tells you.

“Then you are too kind a man,” you tell him, eyes glassy with tears.

“I only wish for your protection and happiness, my lady,” he tells you, as you hand him back his handkerchief.

You confront Aemond later on, in the privacy of his chambers.

“Now you bring her to court to humiliate me further,” you accuse, blood running hot with anger.

Aemond rubs the scarred skin above his eyepatch.

“I’ve no wish to humiliate you, dear wife,” he assures you.

“Then why?” you demand, “why parade her at court, in front of all these people?”

Aemond stands still, his mouth a tight line. He refuses to answer you, causing you to scoff.

“I understand you love her?” you ask your husband, unable to meet his eyes.

There is a moment of silence between you, the weight of your question hanging in the air.

“I do,” he says firmly, confidently.

You did not know your heart could break more than it already has.

“I wish for you to be happy,” Aemond says, coming closer to you, “I am still your husband, I shall give you children to love and cherish.”

You make an offended noise at his words, cheeks heating up. How romantic a notion, being your husband’s broodmare.

“You may do as you like,” Aemond assures you, “as long as you bear only my trueborn children, take pleasure in whatever you wish.”

You look at him, not believing the words he speaks.

“You do not mean that,” you tell him.

The man you married may not have loved you right away, but there was a possessive nature about him beneath the surface of his cold exterior.

“I do,” he tells you.

“I have no wish for anything else. For anyone else,” you tell him.

“You shall, in time,” he assures you, “you have been lonely too long.”

“You think a lover would fix that?” you snap at him.

Aemond does not answer, he simply leaves the room to go to her.

You spend a long time in the gardens, finding solace in the flowers, bathed in moonlight. The air grows cold around you but you would rather be out here than in the castle. You swear you can hear their pants and moans from your chambers. Your husband is taking another woman. Over, and over again.

“You should be inside, my lady,” Ser Cassian tells you, watching as your teeth chatter in the cool night air.

He removes the cloak from his back, placing the gold cloak across your shoulders. Your shoulders drop at the weight of it.

“Allow me to escort you inside,” Cassian murmurs, hands lingering on your shoulders.

You meet his gaze, nodding.

You summon Ser Cassian to your chambers the following night, hearing his knuckles rap against the wood of your door just as you exit the bath. Your lady’s maid holds a dressing gown for you to step into, covering your wet, naked form.

“My lady,” he says, clearly flustered by your state, the dressing gown barely covering your slick body.

“Leave us,” you tell your lady who nervously scampers towards the door, shutting it behind her.

Your hair is damp, sending rivers of bathwater down your neck, traveling through the valley of your breasts.

“I can return when you are decent,” he manages to choke out.

“There is no need,” you assure him, “I am quite comfortable in your presence.”

Ser Cassian does not know where to look, he does not wish to offend you but is finding it increasingly difficult to focus.

“You once told me you wished for my happiness and protection,” you told him, “the latter is true. How are you supposed to assure the other?”

Cassian blinks slowly, eyes focused on your lips as you speak those words, the shimmering of water that rests on your upper lip. You look as though you are a river nymph who has come to seduce him to a watery grave.

You begin to walk towards him, hands fiddling with the straps that tie your dressing gown securely around your waist.

“I shall do whatever my lady commands,” Cassian says, eyes cast toward the floor.

“I do not wish to command,” you say softly, “I wish to offer.”

Cassian meets your eyes then. He is very handsome, with dark brown eyes that match his curly locks.

“You need not offer anything, my lady,” he assures you.

“I want to,” you tell him.

“If you do not wish this, that is fine,” you tell him, “I only ask you to leave and forget this conversation and we shall go about as we once were. Though I shall admit, I will feel rather foolish.”

Cassian watches the blush bloom across your cheeks.

“Otherwise, you need only take my hand.”

You stretch your arm out toward him and for a moment he does not move. For a moment, your breath catches in your throat and you are sure he shall turn on his heel and leave your chambers. Then you shall be left alone once more.

But he does not.

Instead, he places his rough hand in yours and allows you to guide him toward your bed, replacing your dressing robe with his lips, his tongue, and his hands.

You have been happier as of late. Aemond has taken notice. You walk with a skip in your step, a flush on your cheeks.

The maester has been said to visit your chambers weekly with a special brew.

Aemond knows you have taken a lover. The knowledge curls in his stomach like a hissing snake, though he attempts to deny it. How hypocritical is he, to deny his wife happiness when he has found his own in another woman’s bed?

It isn’t until Maelor's name day celebration does he realize how furious your endeavors make him; the fire it ignites beneath your skin.

The feast is a grand affair with singing and dancing, and several lords and ladies visiting from across the seven kingdoms.

Aemond and you arrive together, but you quickly let go of his arm and make your way into the crowd.

Alys is not present, as Alicent will not allow it. A paramour at court is scandalous in itself, she will not subject you to feast with her.

Aemond keeps his eye on you, as you begin to dance. He watches the dreamlike look on your face, the way your cheeks redden and you cast your smile toward the floor as someone joins you.

He is a goldcloak, and Aemond recognizes him. The knight smiles down at you, entrapping you in a dance. Your smile widens as he whispers something to you, and your cheeks darken. Aemond feels a fire in his belly as he watches you dance with the knight, a strange sense of possessiveness flooding through him.

Aemond moves through the dance quickly coming to your side. His hand finds yours dragging you toward the center of the dance floor. You struggle to keep up with his demanding pace, your wrist stinging from how tightly he holds you.

The dance continues around you, people hardly noticing Aemond’s predatory circling of you.

“Is that who you desire?” he asks, voice low.

Your furrow your brow, a confused expression on your face.

“Is he whom you invited into your bed?” Aemond growls.

“I did not think it mattered to you,” you quip back, anger evident in your tone.

“You choose a whoremonger for a paramour,” Aemond says sneering, trying to bait you.

“And you a witch woman,” you snap, causing Aemond’s face to darken, “who I choose to spend my time with is of no concern to you.”

Aemond growls at this, an animalistic noise that comes from deep within his chest, that causes you to back up slightly.

“You cannot have it both ways,” you tell him, noting his genuine anger.

Aemond is breathing heavily, looking down at you, his mouth twisted in a sneer.

“You cannot have me, and her,” you continue feeling brave.

Aemond juts his chin out.

“What makes you think I shall allow you to keep him?” he says referring to Ser Cassian.

You smirk then, stepping closer to him.

“I shall just find someone else,” you tell him bitterly.

Aemond snaps forward, wrapping his hand around your throat and pulling you flush against him. The action sends a wave of warmth into your lower belly. You know you should be terrified, you should try to run screaming. But you do not. And when he brings his mouth to yours, you kiss him back.

When he leads you to your chambers, you let him.

When he roughly tears your dress from your body, you assist him.

When he makes passionate love to you, nipping and biting your smooth flesh, you allow him to.

Aemond stays with you that night.

Alys Rivers vanishes from the Red Keep before the sun rises.

note: ooof im sweating 🥵

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