#Armored x Pinecone

[und3rtal3s1h0p3]

OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT

WHAT IF I DREW THE SCENE FROM LITTLE MISFORTUNE WHERE SHE SAYS “My mom wanted to marry my dad to have kids.” “She wanted to have an abortion, but that’s illegal!” USING THE PINECONE X ARMORED SHIP KID

btw his name is Cone (I made him)

@ask-crow-aus

[redlittlefoxari]

Astarion Epilogue :An Adventure in Making Life Chapter Five: Together Again

Summary: The gang sets off on the adventure to Waterdeep and has decided to keep the pregnancy a secret from those you are traveling with.

After getting so much needed rest after finding out Tav(you) are pregnant with Astarion’s child your old friend Gale pays you a visit.

Warnings: NSFW+18, smut, pregnancy, blood, violence, fluff, angst.

Relationship: Astarion X Tav

Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate) Karlach (Baldur's Gate)Gale (Baldur's Gate) Wyll (Baldur's Gate) Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate)Lae'zel (Baldur's Gate) Tav (Baldur's Gate) Jaheira (Baldur's Gate) Halsin(Baldur's Gate)

Master List

Five Weeks Pregnant

The sun was rising over the hills when you and Astarion Started to lock up your home and set out for the gate. Your armor felt heavy and pressed against your sensitive breasts making you hiss every time you moved. You tried to get the local blacksmith to rush order you a new armor set, but he didn’t have the time, and neither did you. You shouldered your pack and looked at Atarion who looked stunning in his black leather armor and well-worn leather boats. 

“I will say I’ll miss our feather bed and hot water.” Astarion cried as he too shouldered his pack. 

“It won’t be too bad. The company will make up for the lack of comfort.” You said as cheerfully as you could. 

You couldn’t wait to see everyone again. It had been years since all of you got together in one place again and you could barely hold in your excitement. You wanted to know everything about what had been going on with them. Letters were one thing but hearing their voices might bring you to tears and only some of that feeling was because of your hormones going crazy. The rest was the real deal. 

“I know but I’m still going to miss it or rather what we can do in it.” He gave you a sly smile. 

“We can still do that the first time we had sex was on the forest floor.” You shot him a flirtatious look right back. “I’m pretty sure you fucked me on a pinecone.” 

“I did not. I made sure I picked them all up before I ruined all other men for you.” He was returning your flirtatious look back to you tenfold. 

“And would you look at that I’ve had no other men but you these last fifty years, It worked.” You began setting the pace as you walked towards the gate which would take about thirty minutes. 

“So I guess I won.” 

You rolled your eyes and smiled, he had ruined other men for you. He was everything you wanted and then some. And you tried to be everything he needed and then some. It was hard sometimes but you always tried your best. In the first year of your relationship, there were so many obstacles. That’s why you hunted day and night to find him the ring he now wore on his left ring finger. The ring that allowed him to walk in the sun once more. 

There were times you would come home to find him staring at the sun from a shadowed corner of the room reaching out just to see if he could feel the warmth from its glow in the shadows. Whenever you saw him do this, it made your chest tighten and your eyes water. It drove you harder to find what you needed because you loved him and that first year you did everything you could to prove to him that he was loved. 

“I love you Astarion.” You had no idea why you were telling him this now. Maybe the thought of him in that first year brought you back to worrying you needed to prove it to him. 

“I love you too darling.” He grabbed your hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “And I always will.” 

The two of you made your way to the gate longer than you intended to. Your pace was slow as you took in the city you both called home. The city where your love created the life that was now growing inside you. You still held each other's hands you both seemingly feeling the same way. Outside the gates was the unknown you didn’t know what could happen. You didn’t know why but it scared you. 

You stopped pulling Astarion with you. Your breaths became hard and fast, your eyes darting around like you were a trapped animal. “Astarion I’m scared what if I mess up and something happens to them.” You took your free hand and wrapped it protectively around your stomach. 

Astarion pulled you into him resting his chin on your head. “We can turn around right now and head home just say the word and we are gone.”

You wanted to go home. You wanted to shut the door and hide from the world until your baby was born happy and healthy, but that was no way to live. You stood in the ally in each other's arms till the panic subsided. In his arms, you knew you were safe his arms around you grounded you and made you feel safe. Your breaths returned to a normal, steady rhythm and the panic subsided. 

“I think as long as you are with me and there to protect and ground me I will be okay.” Your arms snaked around his waist. 

“I will protect you with my life.” His vow hung in the air and the streets grew quiet. 

“Hey, lovebirds! If you're done we wanna get on the road!” The accent was unmistakable. You peered over Astarion’s shoulder to see Karlach waving her arms at the two of you. 

“We’re coming!” You shouted back to her. You gave Astarion a quick kiss. “Ready?”

“Darling, I was born ready.” 

With that, the two of you closed the distance between you and the rest of your party. Karlach’s hair had turned grey in some places but she was still the seven-foot teifling you knew and loved. She no longer burned with the fire of the hells and had her heart back in its proper place. That was what really bonded Wyll and Karlach into the everlasting love that they shared. He went with her to the hells after the battle to save Baldur’s Gate fifty years ago and fought demons, devils, and archdevils to get her heart back. In the process, they fell in love and the rest is history. 

“Gods elves have it so easy! You look the same as you did fifty years ago.” Karlach wrapped you in a big bear hug squeezing you and lifting you up off the ground. 

“Well, you know someone had to keep all the good looks you know.” 

“You can put her down now thank you very much I would rather you not crush her into dust thank you very much.” Astarion’s words were light as he spoke to Karlach. 

“Do you want a hug instead Astarion? Getting jealous now?” Karlach put you down and turned towards Astarion. 

“No, I’m not really a hugger. I didn’t want you crushing the only person I’ve ever cared for.” 

“That’s fair. What have the two of you been up to? Anything fun?” Kralach asked you and Astarion. 

“Let's see we just returned from an adventure a little over a month ago. Saved a town from some harpies that had made a nest nearby and were stealing their children.”You tried to think of anything else to add but couldn’t think of anything. 

“Ah yes those wretched creatures got what was coming to them, it was a shame that they all died so quickly though,” Astarion added a click of his tongue to the end of his statement. “Since then we’ve been taking a little respite, sleeping till noon eating till we feel sick that sort of thing.” 

You gave Astarion a look sideways glance. You knew what he was trying to do: explain away any noticeable weight gain from your pregnancy by stating that the two of you had just been lazy these past weeks and stuffing your faces.

“Yes, I so did miss all the good food in the city.” You took a longing look down the street to drive your story home. 

“I agree to that.” Shadowheart approached her hair still dyed silver. “I have my bag stuffed with everything I could think of that I would miss from the city We can share.” 

Shadowheart also looked much the same as she did fifty years ago. She had a few more wrinkles around her eyes and mouth but for the most part, she looked like an average fifty-year-old woman that you would see walking down the streets of the city.  She now worshiped Selûne and not Shar, going back to the goddess that she worshipped before she was taken and forced into devoting herself to for forty years of her life. 

“That would be great Shadowheart we can compare what we brought later by the fire. We have a long day's journey.” You sighed as you thought about how your feet would look after twenty-four miles. 

“We will be sleeping outside for a few days but it will be just like the old days.” Wyll spoke with optimism in his voice. 

Wyll was always able to see the sunshine where there was darkness the human turned teifling and now had a dusting of a black and grey beard growing about his chin and his stone eye still seemed to be looking into your soul. Since breaking his pact with Mizora Wyll seemed as if he stepped lighter. His Warlock powers may have been gone but the blade of frontiers still slashed and diced any monster that dared endanger the innocent. 

“I Still don’t understand why we can’t just teleport there. That would make this journey a whole hells of a lot shorter.” Astarion tried to embody a look of annoyance on his face but all you could see was worry buried deep in the lines of his face. 

It would have made it easier but this trip was about much more than leisure. This was a chance to have a nice journey with everyone again and see the Sword Coast almost entirely. The trek to Waterdeep was seven hundred and fifty miles long and you had never been there in all these years so using a portal wouldn’t help because you had no idea where they were anyway. Gale could teleport you all there instantly, but you had a feeling that Gale wanted you all to go on this little adventure together. The road was a way to catch up and plus he seemed busy with all the preparations for his ceremony. 

“You know as well as I do Astarion that Gale has a lot on his plate and plus this will be fun.” You took his hand and squeezed it gently giving a small amount of reinsurance that everything would be alright.” Don’t you want to spend this time with your friends instead of sitting at home for two months waiting? That sounds boring.” 

“Yes well, the next town closest to the city is four days away so if we don’t want to make camp in the middle of the night we really do need to be getting on our way.”Astarion understood what you were trying to do. He would agree that he would much rather be out on an adventure than wait at home for two months. 

“Let’s crash Gale’s party and make him regret inviting us.” At your statement, everyone cheered and you all set out on the long journey to Waterdeep. 

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Wrapped Up in You - Echo x reader

Clone Life Day Fic Exchange 2023

Summary: You invite the Batch to spend Life Day with you, and Echo is grateful for the opportunity. Prompt: "Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you."

Warnings: This work is SFW but my blog is 18+. fluff fluff fluff, TBB!Echo, pining, friends to lovers (implied), Crosshair being Crosshair, mentions of Fives.

Word Count: 3.1k

This fic is a Life Day gift for @ladysongmaster! I hope you enjoy! <3 Much thanks to @cloneficgiftexchange for hosting this event! Shout out to @stars-n-spice & @dystopicjumpsuit for the banners <3

Echo sighs, cradling the warm cup of spiced hot chocolate to his chest. It’s not often that the squad gets shore leave, let alone during the holiday season, so he’s determined to enjoy this particular leave as much as possible. Leaning against the wall in your small apartment, Echo silently surveys the scene before him, the ghost of a smile touching his features. 

As soon as you’d found out your favorite squad would be on shore leave for Life Day, you made them promise to spend at least a few hours with you to celebrate. Echo’s heart swells at the memory of that holocall, the way you’d put your hands on your hips, head cocked to the side with that determined look in your eyes that could cow even Marshall Commander Cody. Of course the Batch had said yes, we’ll be there; of course Echo was the first to agree. 

And he was glad for the chance to spend some time with you, even in a group setting. You’d decorated your entire apartment: scented pinecones hanging from festive ribbon, garland of popped corn, gently twinkling string lights arched over windows and doorways. In the corner of the room, dominating the scene, a fresh fir sits wrapped in warm yellow lights and golden bows, bedecked with shiny baubles of varying designs. A few presents sit wrapped neatly beneath the trees lowest boughs. Crooning softly over the radio, instrumental music lilts through the air. Cooking meat and baked goods fill his nostrils. 

Tying it all together, though, is you. Dressed in an overly large knit sweater as red as the Batch’s armor, you’re a vision. Echo’s mouth runs dry when you glance across the room, your smile brightening when your gazes meet. Whatever Hunter’s saying to you seems to go in one ear and out the other as the two of you stare. 

And then the moment shatters as the oven beeps. Breaking away from both Echo’s gaze and Hunter’s conversation, you hurry to the kitchen, disappearing from view. 

“Stare any harder, and she just might catch fire, reg.” Crosshair’s voice is thick with sarcasm, the once-derogatory nickname now familiar and familial. He perches on the edge of the armchair nearby. 

Echo rolls his eyes, taking a sip of hot chocolate to compose his thoughts. He’s relatively certain all his squad knows about his feelings, but Crosshair is the only one who’s broached the subject with him before. 

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Echo finally grumbles. 

Crosshair scoffs. “You really are a di’kut, you know that?” 

“Be that as it may.” With a pointed glare at his squadmate, Echo jabs his scomp in Crosshair’s direction. “I know that look, Crosshair. Don’t even think about it.” 

Raising one thin eyebrow, Crosshair merely regards Echo with a faint smirk, gnawing on an ever-present toothpick. “Just saying, reg.” 

“Just saying what?” you chime in. 

Echo glances up, startled. Your eyes sparkle with curiosity as you approach, having caught the tail end of their conversation. Tucked under one of your arms are oven mitts, decorated with little boughs of holly, and in your other hand you cradle a tray of cookies, crescent moons of dough filled with fruit jam. 

“How good you look in that sweater, dollface,” Crosshair drawls, smirk widening as Echo’s scomp whirs, his agitation bleeding into his neural interface. 

Your teeth catch your bottom lip as you duck your head. “I’ve had it for ages. One of my favorites.” 

“Well,” Cross says, standing to his full height, tugging the sleeves of his black turtleneck down, “it suits you. Isn’t that right, Ech’ika?” 

Emotions clash and war within Echo. Irritation flares hot and angry at Crosshair’s goading—but it is immediately soothed by the balm of curiosity and wonder as you turn your gaze on Echo, eyes wide and...hopeful? What irks him even more is that Cross isn’t wrong: the sweater may be oversized, but it still drapes over your form in a flattering way, the knit fabric soft and cozy. 

“Y-Yeah,” he says. Di’kut, he kicks himself mentally. “Uh, brings out your eyes.” 

“Thanks,” you say. Then, as if suddenly remembering you’re carrying a platter of baked goods, you hold out the tray. “Oh, um, cookie? This is my grandmother’s recipe. I’ve got apricot, cherry, and blueberry ones.” 

Crosshair plucks a blueberry crescent cookie from the tray, popping it in his mouth before slinking off, an entirely too smug look plastered to his face. Echo glances around for somewhere to set his mug; he’s shattered ceramic on his scomp arm before, the durasteel casing a smidge stronger than most mugs, and he doesn’t care to make too much of a fool of himself in front of you tonight. 

“Oh, here,” you mumble. Balancing the cookie tray on one hand, you hold out your other for the mug. 

With a small smile, Echo hands it over. He’s not sure he’s ever had apricot, but he knows he likes cherries, so he selects one of the morsels with dark red filling. He tries not to be self-conscious about the way you watch him expectantly, eyes trained on the movement of his hand as he brings the cookie to his mouth. The dough is surprisingly flaky, just sweet enough to really accentuate the deeper, woodier flavor of the cherry. Humming in delight, Echo smiles at you around his full mouth. 

“You like it?” you ask, smiling in return. 

He nods. Once his mouth is clear, he says, “Very good. Family recipe, you said?” 

Ducking your head again, you nod. “Yeah, my gramma. She, uh, made these every year for Life Day. I still haven’t quite mastered her chocolate chip recipe yet, though.” 

“I’m sure you’ll get it,” he says. “And I’m always happy to try out the experiments.” 

“Is that right?” you ask. 

A small quirk of your lips draws his eyes down to them for a fleeting heartbeat. He quickly looks away, catching sight of Tech building an accurate-to-scale gingerbread model of the Jedi Temple and Wrecker painting a new decal on his armor. Swallowing thickly, Echo takes a steadying breath. Maker, he went through ARC training; he can hold a conversation with his crush. Right? 

“If you want me to, that is,” he says quickly. 

Your gentle laugh stirs his heart, affection and cuteness aggression pulsing in him. “In that case,” you say, “I’ll be sure to hang on to some whenever you’re on leave.” 

“Good,” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, right, thank you. I can take that back now.” 

With a smile you hand back his mug, the ceramic warm from more than just the liquid contents now. Echo forces himself to take several deep breaths, the comforting scents of cinnamon, fruit, and something else, something...sweeter, filling him and easing his embarrassment. 

“Dinner’ll be done soon,” you say as you scoot past the armchair towards the others. 

After dinner, Echo helps you clean up, though you insist on doing it all yourself. Not that you put up much resistance, not with how Wrecker praises your excellent cooking skills and even Tech is admiring the different flavor combinations, cataloging the recipes in his datapad. Hunter gives a knowing look as Echo scoops up what dishes he can; Echo studiously ignores his sergeant. 

“You can put those on the counter there,” you say as you point to an empty space next to you. “Thank the Maker for dishwashers, because if there’s one thing I loathe about cooking, it’s the dishes.” 

“And yet you wanted to do this on your own,” Echo teases. His belly is full, fuller than it’s been in a long time, and he feels warm. Fuzzy. Sated. Well, for the most part. 

“Force of habit,” you muse. 

He lingers in the kitchen, trying to fool himself into believing it’s so he can be nearby to help more, but in reality, he doesn’t want to leave your presence yet. Watching you bustle around the small kitchen, humming to yourself, entranced by the way the red sweater bunches at your elbows, Echo sighs. The war has been so far from his mind tonight, a fact he’s grateful for; but with the night’s activities beginning to wind down, his thoughts return to the incessant rhythm of hyperspace, fight droids, restock, hyperspace, fight droids...

“Echo?” Your soft voice startles him out of his reverie. 

“Sorry, what?” 

You gesture with wide arms at the now (mostly) clean kitchen. “We can go back to the others now.” 

“Oh, right.” He follows you out of the kitchen, back to the living room. Wrecker has Crosshair in a headlock, while Hunter looks on in silent amusement. Tech still sits at the dining table, typing away on his ’pad. 

When Hunter notices you return, he sits up straighter, clearing his throat. “Wrecker. Drop him.” 

“Aw, alright.” Releasing Crosshair, Wrecker shoves him to the edge of the couch, then beams up at you. “This has been a great Life Day, thank you so much.” 

“You’re most welcome,” you say with a warm smile. “I couldn’t not spoil my boys on a holiday like this.” 

Something stirs in Echo’s chest at the way you refer to them as your boys. Kriff, would you be willing to have him be yours, truly yours? 

“Speaking of spoiling!” You clap your hands together. “I have some gifts for you all.” 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Hunter says. 

“I wanted to,” you say simply. 

As you rifle through the wrapped presents beneath the decorated tree, Echo ushers Tech over to the couch, ignoring the man’s protests about needing to finish his notes. Gently pushing Tech down into the empty cushion between Wrecker and Crosshair, Echo remains standing near the arm of the couch. 

You pass out small boxes to each of them. “It’s not much, but...” 

Echo almost regrets that he has to rip through the paper to get to the gift inside, because you clearly took your time wrapping these, the folds crisp and precise, the black and red plaid design seeming to repeat seamlessly to infinity with how neatly you’d cut it. He savors the feel of the paper in his hand for a moment, and, out of curiosity, flips over the gift tag on top. 

His heart skips a beat. In your handwriting, the tag simply reads: “To Echo. From, your favorite nat-born ♥️”. A quick glance over his brothers’ shoulders reveals none of theirs have a heart drawn next to your signature. 

Carefully avoiding your gaze, he finally tears the paper off, then slips the lid off the box. Inside, nestled amongst tissue paper, rests a small charm: a domino. More than that, he realizes: five dark impressions mark the charm. Echo’s breath catches. 

“It’s...” He can’t find the words, or even the thoughts, to express the overwhelming rush of emotions crashing through him. Melancholy, affection, reminiscence, appreciation: it all blends together. When he looks up and meets your gaze, he finds your brow pinched in worry. 

“Do you like it?” you ask. 

He can only nod. 

“Oh! A li’l bomb!” Wrecker’s laugh booms through your small apartment. “This one’s goin’ on my blaster.” 

“Great idea, Wreck,” Hunter says, holding up a tiny skull charm, a genuine smile on his face. “Might attach this to my knife.” 

Tech has already secured his charm—a tiny datapad—to his actual datapad. “This is remarkably thoughtful. Thank you.” 

“I made them myself,” you admit. 

Even Crosshair’s eyebrows shoot up at that, and Echo watches as the prickly sniper carefully lifts the small bullseye charm to eye level. 

“Good work,” Crosshair says. 

Echo sighs. It’s as close to a ‘thank you’ as Crosshair can manage without combusting, he supposes. 

“What’s yours, Echo?” Hunter asks. 

“It’s a, uh, domino,” he says. He leaves it in the box; this is his gift, and he doesn’t want to share it just yet. “For my twin.” 

Hunter’s eyes soften in understanding before he looks back to you. “You really outdid yourself, meshl’a. I’m just sorry we didn’t bring anything for you.” 

You hum, finally looking away from Echo. “Spending time with you has been a gift enough.” 

He silently excuses himself to the ’fresher, head still swimming with emotions. Ensuring the door locks, he flips the light on, chuckling to himself at the Life Day tree soap dispenser you’ve invested in for the small space. Splashing some water onto his face, the cold shocks his brain into resetting. Emotions subsiding, Echo pats his face dry, then, meeting his reflection’s gaze, gives himself a silent nod of encouragement. 

The apartment is strangely quiet when he emerges. Peering around the corner into the living room, Echo is surprised to find it empty save for you. You’re curled up on the couch, cradling a mug between both hands, gazing at the tree. 

“Where’d the others go?” he asks. 

Your gaze flits to him without startling, a smile touching your features. “Back to the barracks.” 

“Without me,” he says, voice monotone. 

Humming noncommittally, you shrug with one shoulder. “Do you need to go, too?” 

“I...” He hesitates. Technically, being on leave, he doesn’t have to report in for another two standard rotations. He doesn’t want to intrude on your space any longer than he already has, but stars, you look so beautiful like this, calm, relaxed, comfortable. He can’t resist the desire to stay. “No.” 

“Good, because I have one more thing I want to give you,” you say. Setting your mug on the coffee table, you step around it with practiced ease, your gaze never leaving his. Echo can’t help the way his lips part in surprise as you wrap your arms around him. Your body heat seeps through the thin material of his shirt to envelope him like a blanket. For a moment, he stiffens, and you almost pull away. 

But his brain catches up with his body before you can. Arm sliding around your shoulders, he tugs you firmly against himself. You’re soft against his body, not to mention the sweater, and he sighs, eyes sliding shut. He buries his face into the crook of your neck. Inhaling your scent, he finally identifies what he’s been smelling whenever you’re near: spiced vanilla. Heady and warm, the scent fills his entire being, carrying him up into the stratosphere, floating on clouds. 

“Where’d this come from?” he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin.

“Maybe this is my selfish gift to myself,” you say with a light chuckle. “Realized I—we—haven’t hugged despite being friends for so long. And I suddenly couldn’t go another day without doing this.” 

Heart hammering in his ribcage, Echo gently pulls back to meet your gaze. Biting your lower lip, your eyelids flutter as you peer up at him. Stars, he could count your eyelashes from this proximity, get lost in the texture of your irises, marooned in the harbor of your sweet scent. When his eyes drop to your lips, a glint of gold catches his attention. Further down, around your throat on a delicate golden chain, a second domino tile rests just below the dip of your collarbone, resting on the scoop of the sweater’s neckline. A double blank domino. 

“I hope it’s okay,” you breathe. 

“Beautiful,” Echo murmurs. “Just like you.” 

You capture his lips in a soft, tentative kiss. Fingers trembling where he brushes them over your cheekbone, Echo meets your desire, your passion, with equal fervor. His heart plummets and soars simultaneously, every nerve alight. 

In the morning, after stretching out his muscles and eating a simple but delicious breakfast, he drops a kiss to the crown of your head. You recline on the armchair, holonovel in one hand, looking so at peace that he wishes he could stay. But Tech had comm’d him at first light, requesting his assistance with the ship, so he had to get back. 

“Will you come back before you ship out again?” you ask, standing to follow him to the door. 

He gives you a shy smile. “Only if you come see us off.” 

“Am I even allowed on base?” you ask, surprise in your voice. 

“Probably not,” he shrugs. “But we don’t exactly follow rules. I think an exception can be made this one time.” 

His stomach thrills with butterflies at the soft, pleasant sound of your laugh. Pressing his lips to yours once more, he reaches blindly for the coat rack he knows resides by the front door, where he stashed his jacket last night after arriving. 

His fingers close around empty air. 

With a frown, he pulls back, and sure enough, the coat rack is completely empty. Eyes narrowing in suspicion, he takes a deep, steadying breath and counts to five before turning back to you. Confusion paints your expression. 

“Didn’t you—”

“Yes.” He grinds his teeth. “Crosshair.” 

One hand pressing to your mouth, you stifle a smile but can’t keep it from scrunching your eyes. “It’s too cold for you to walk back without a jacket.” 

A thought occurs to him, and the words leave his mouth before he even has time to process them. “Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater?” 

The look of surprise that overtakes your features is adorable, which makes the burning embarrassment that settles in his stomach worthwhile. All he can do is watch as you rush back to your bedroom, and return a moment later carrying the thick, oversized sweater you wore last night. Eyes sparkling, you silently help Echo into the comfortable garment, making sure his scomp doesn’t pierce through the woven fabric. 

Looking down at himself, Echo finds that he quite likes the way that the sweater, so large and cozy-looking on you, fits him so perfectly. And, as he inhales to calm himself down fully, he’s greeted by the wonderful scent you wore last night. 

He hums. “It smells like you.” 

You duck your head, shuffling your feet, an abashed grin on your face. “Something to remember me by, then.” 

“Like I could forget you.” 

“You can’t say things like that when you have to leave,” you say with a teasing smile. Resting one hand on his chest, you lean up and kiss him sweetly. “Go, before I change my mind and keep you here.” 

Echo hums. “Oh no, what a threat.” 

“Go.” You gently push on him. “I expect that sweater back before you leave.” 

“Of course, cyar’ika.” He opens the door, giving you one last fond look. “See you soon.” 

And if, when Echo returns to the Marauder, he “accidentally” misplaces Crosshair’s pack of toothpicks, well, that’s his own business.

[ask-crow-aus]

i cant remember what i named the gaychild- i mean the fanchild (armored x pinecone)

just Cone I think

[sleepwalker-in-me]

Daenerys, children and greens

Green colour in Dany's chapters in ASOIAF is mostly associated with children ,happiness, nature and fertility. While recollecting events at  Daznak's Pit Dany explicitly remember the colour green of the mother, that is holding a child.

A woman in a green tokar reached for a weeping child, pulling him down into her arms to shield him from the flames. Dany saw the colour vividly, but not the woman's face.( A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys X)

They made for a pretty portrait, the proud old woman all in green surrounded by the little girls robed and veiled in white, armored in their innocence.( A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys IV)

When she remembers being pregnant and happy riding to Vaes Dothrak .

The sky was blue, the grass was green, and I was full of hope.( A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys X)

Finding her dragons lounging beside a pool and worrying about them not coming back home one day.

She found Rhaegal asleep beside the pool, a green and bronze coil basking in the sun.They grow bolder every day. Yet it still made her anxious when they flew too far away. One day one of them may not return, she thought.( A Storm of Swords - Daenerys VI)

Imagery of love in Astaphor.

On another island two lovers kissed in the shade of tall green trees, with no more shame than Dothraki at a wedding.( A Storm of Swords - Daenerys III)

Her childhood memories while crossing the sea.

She even liked the sailors, with all their songs and stories. Once on a voyage to Braavos, as she'd watched the crew wrestle down a great green sail in a rising gale, she had even thought how fine it would be to be a sailor. ( A Storm of Swords - Daenerys I)

Her brother's memory.

The green one shall be Rhaegal, for my valiant brother who died on the green banks of the Trident.( A Clash of Kings - Daenerys I)

Finding home.

......she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. She could smell home, she could see it, there, just beyond that door, green fields and great stone houses and arms to keep her warm, there. ( A Game of Thrones - Daenerys IX)

Her unborn child bonding with dragon.

Irri fetched the egg with the deep green shell, bronze flecks shining amid its scales as she turned it in her small hands. Dany curled up on her side, pulling the sandsilk cloak across her and cradling the egg in the hollow between her swollen belly and small, tender breasts. She liked to hold them. They were so beautiful, and sometimes just being close to them made her feel stronger, braver, as if somehow she were drawing strength from the stone dragons locked inside. She was lying there, holding the egg, when she felt the child move within her … as if he were reaching out, brother to brother, blood to blood. "You are the dragon ," Dany whispered to him, "the true dragon. I know it. I know it." And she smiled, and went to sleep dreaming of home.( A Game of Thrones - Daenerys IV)

Both Dany and Jon find happiness being alone surrounded by green.

Dany slowed to a trot and rode out onto the plain, losing herself in the green, blessedly alone. She rode on, submerging herself deeper in the Dothraki sea. The green swallowed her up. The air was rich with the scents of earth and grass, mixed with the smell of horseflesh and Dany's sweat and the oil in her hair. Dothraki smells. They seemed to belong here. Dany breathed it all in, laughing.( A Game of Thrones - Daenerys III)

Jon Snow descended the hill in search of Ghost. One moment Jon was striding beneath the trees, whistling and shouting, alone in the green, pinecones and fallen leaves under his feet; the next, the great white direwolf was walking beside him, pale as morning mist.( A Clash of Kings - Jon IV)

If the dragons survive the great war , Jon and Dany’s child will be Rhaegal’s  rider .

[und3rtal3s1h0p3]

I HAVE GOTTEN THE MOTIVATION TO FINISH IT

Armored and Pine belong to @ask-crow-aus (I’m sorry I keep tagging you)

Cone belongs to @r3se-t/Me

[und3rtal3s1h0p3]

fem boy pine

also for you pinecone x armored lovers/ armoredcone lovers (in fact I’m one of them)

pine and armored belongs to @ask-crow-aus (sorry for tagging you a lot)

Femboy pine belongs to me

[und3rtal3s1h0p3]

I think I’m having too much fun on whiteboard fox

[ask-crow-aus]

I’m in the process of making Armored x Pinecone fan art >:)

-@p3talan0ndraws/ Petal anon

alr