#GLORY. TRUTH. PROTECT HER. SHE WANTS YOU.

[lilliesthings]

[pohtaytoh]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗬/𝗟/𝗡

*ೃ༄ Megan Skiendiel x f!reader

Everyone ships Megan Skiendiel with your brother Gabriel, convinced they're endgame. He's always taking credit for the sweet gestures that make Megan swoon, and she totally believes he's the one. But you, Y/N Y/L/N, have been secretly head over heels for Megan for years. You're the one leaving those thoughtful gifts and sending those encouraging messages, watching your brother bask in the glory.

But as Megan starts spending more time with you, she can't shake this feeling. Now Megan's wondering if the person she's really meant to be with has been right in front of her all this time.

part: one. two. three. four. five. <six.> epilogue.

"What?" Megan's voice was barely a whisper, yet it cut through the tense, heavy air in Gabriel's dorm room like a sharp blade. Her eyes, wide and filled with disbelief, moved from Gabriel's stunned face to Y/N's tear-streaked one. Every raw, painful word Y/N had just screamed, every hidden truth about stolen kindness and fake charm, had clearly been heard.

Y/N felt a cold wave of dread, worse than anything Gabriel had done. This was it. The absolute worst possible outcome. The truth, ugly and messy, was out. Not just to Gabriel, but to Megan.

The girl Y/N loved, the girl she had desperately tried to protect from the truth, now knew. Y/N’s heart hammered, a frantic drumbeat of terror and shame. She felt exposed, vulnerable, like all her deepest secrets were laid bare.

Gabriel, still frozen in shock from Y/N's outburst, finally seemed to register Megan's presence. His face, which had been pale with anger, now turned a sickly shade of white. His eyes darted to Megan, then back to Y/N, a flicker of panic in their depths. He tried to speak, but no words came out, only a choked sound.

Megan stepped fully into the room, her gaze fixed on Y/N, her beautiful eyes slowly filling with a mix of shock, hurt, and a dawning understanding.

Y/N could see the pieces clicking into place in Megan’s mind, all the things that mysteriously appeared when she was stressed, the perfectly timed coffee, the small notes of encouragement, the way complex topics suddenly made sense. All the little gestures she had praised Gabriel for, all the moments she thought he had thoughtfully done and now, the truth.

"Megan, I—" Gabriel finally stammered, taking a step towards her, his hand reaching out. "It's not what you think. She's just... she's upset. She's making things up." His voice was shaky, trying to sound charming, but the usual confidence was completely gone.

"Making things up?" Megan's voice was still quiet, but it held a chilling edge Y/N had never heard before. Her eyes, still fixed on Y/N's, filled with a deeper sorrow.

She seemed to know, instinctively, that Y/N wasn't lying. "Y/N... the things that you said just now, was that true?" Her voice was so soft, so fragile, that it broke Y/N's heart.

Y/N couldn't speak. She could only nod, tears still streaming down her face, her chest heaving with silent sobs. The truth felt like a physical weight, crushing her. She braced herself for Megan's anger, for her disgust, for her to turn and run back to Gabriel, because surely, surely this would be too much.

Megan slowly turned her head to Gabriel, her gaze now colder than the campus night. The sadness in her eyes was replaced by a quiet fury. "You... you lied to me?" she whispered, the words barely audible, but vibrating with profound hurt. "All those times? You let me believe... you let me thank you for things Y/N did?"

Gabriel flinched, shrinking under her steady, disappointed gaze. "Megan, please, it's not like that! I just... I didn't want you to think I wasn't thoughtful. I was busy, sometimes, and I just... I wanted you to be happy. Y/N always does those little things, she's like that. I didn't mean any harm, I swear!" His voice was desperate, pleading, completely unlike his usual smooth self.

Megan didn't raise her voice, but her next words were sharper than any shout.

"You used her kindness. You used your own sister to make yourself look better to me." She shook her head, a slow, disbelieving movement. "And all this time... you let me think you understood me? You just wanted me to think you were perfect. You didn't care about what I felt, or what she felt." Her eyes, once so bright when talking about Gabriel, were now dull, lifeless. "It wasn't real. It was never real with you, was it?"

Gabriel stood there, defeated, his shoulders slumping. He looked utterly broken, caught in his own web of lies. He knew, in that moment, he had lost her and worse, he had deeply hurt his sister. He glanced at Y/N, seeing the raw pain on her face, realizing the depth of her silent sacrifices, the endless times she had put him first. A fresh wave of shame washed over him.

Megan finally turned back to Y/N. Her anger at Gabriel had faded, replaced by a profound, overwhelming tenderness, mixed with a deep, crushing sorrow for Y/N. She saw the years of unacknowledged love, the quiet acts of devotion, the silent pain that Y/N had carried. She saw it all, clear as day.

"Y/N," Megan whispered, her voice trembling, as if each word was fragile glass. She walked slowly towards Y/N, her eyes never leaving hers. Y/N noticed then, clutched carefully in Megan's hand, was her poetry book, the one she had dropped on the staircase.

"All this time... you did all those things for me? And you just... let him take credit?" Her voice broke. "Why? Why didn't you ever say anything?" Her eyes filled with fresh tears, not of anger, but of sorrow for Y/N’s quiet suffering.

Y/N felt a fresh wave of tears, her own throat tight with emotion. "Because," she choked out, her voice raw, "because I just wanted you to be happy, Megan. I... I knew you liked him. And I thought... I thought as long as you were happy, even if it wasn't with me... that would be enough. And I didn't want to cause trouble between you two or with Gabriel." The words were an honest, painful confession, spoken from the deepest part of her heart.

Megan reached out, her hands gently cupping Y/N's face, wiping away the tears with her thumbs. Her touch was soft, comforting, sending shivers through Y/N.

"Oh, Y/N," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion, "my sweet, brave Y/N. How could you ever think that? How could you ever think that was enough?" Her eyes searched Y/N’s, filled with an understanding so profound it felt like a healing balm. "I've been so blind. So, so blind."

She pulled Y/N closer, wrapping her arms around her. Y/N stumbled forward, collapsing into Megan's embrace, letting out a sob that had been trapped inside her for years. Megan held her tight, rubbing her back, her own shoulders trembling with silent tears. It was a hug filled with comfort, apology, and a deep, unspoken promise.

"I actually came back because I felt bad," Megan whispered into Y/N's hair, her voice muffled but clear. "I felt guilty, after all these weeks, how little time Gabriel and I have been spending together. I was going to ask him to hang out tomorrow, just us, to make up for it but then I saw your book on the staircase, and I knew it was yours, so I grabbed it to bring it to you after I talked to him. And then I heard... everything." She tightened her embrace.

"I'm so glad I came back. So glad I heard you, Y/N. All this time... I thought I had fallen for the right Y/L/N, turns out it was the wrong one and that the right person was here, in front of me, all along."

Gabriel stood in the background, watching the scene unfold. The raw emotion, the quiet devastation, the deep connection between his sister and the girl he thought was his.

He saw the genuine comfort Megan found in Y/N's arms, a comfort she had never truly found with him. He heard Megan's tearful whispers, full of a tenderness he had never received. He finally understood the true depth of Y/N's love, and his own selfishness.

He had been so focused on being the center of attention, on maintaining his perfect image, that he had trampled over the true feelings of the two most important people in his life. The weight of his actions crashed down on him.

He took a shaky breath, stepping forward, his voice hoarse and broken. "Y/N," he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

He looked at his sister, truly seeing her, perhaps for the first time in a very long time. "I... I am so, so sorry. I was a complete idiot. A selfish jerk." His eyes moved to Megan, filled with deep regret.

"Megan, I am so sorry I lied to you. I was a coward. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness." He looked down at his feet, unable to meet their gaze. "I'm sorry, both of you. For everything."

The apology was raw, painful, and painfully real. It was nothing like his usual charming words. It was genuine. Y/N, still in Megan's arms, felt a flicker of surprise. This was new. This was Gabriel, stripped bare of his usual act.

Megan slowly pulled away from Y/N, but kept her hands on Y/N's arms, her eyes still fixed on Y/N's face. She looked at Gabriel, a long, assessing look.

"Gabriel," she said, her voice soft, but firm. "You really messed up. Badly." She paused, and Gabriel flinched, expecting more anger. But then, Megan's expression softened slightly. "But... I heard you. And it sounds like you actually get it, this time." She glanced at Y/N, then back at Gabriel. "You owe Y/N so much more than an apology. You hurt her more than you know."

Gabriel nodded, tears welling in his own eyes. "I know," he choked out. "I'll do whatever it takes. I'll make it up to her. To both of you." He then slowly, quietly, turned and walked out of the dorm room, leaving them alone once more. The door closed softly behind him, a stark contrast to how it had opened.

The silence that followed was different now. It wasn't tense or suffocating. It was soft, comforting, filled with the promise of something new. Y/N and Megan stood there, facing each other in the quiet room. Megan's hands were still on Y/N's arms, her thumbs gently stroking Y/N's skin. She reached her free hand down and gently placed the poetry book back into Y/N's grasp.

Megan looked into Y/N's eyes, her own filled with a mixture of relief, wonder, and a profound, undeniable love. "He was the wrong Y/L/N," she whispered, her voice barely audible, echoing Y/N's deepest, oldest fear. "All this time... you were the right one. You always were."

Y/N’s breath hitched. Those words. The words she had always wished for, now spoken, real and true. Tears welled up in her eyes again, but these were joyful, overflowing. "Megan," she breathed, her voice trembling with emotion.

Megan's gaze dropped to Y/N's lips, then back to her eyes, asking a silent question. Her hands slid from Y/N's arms, moving up, one resting gently on Y/N’s cheek, the other sliding to the back of Y/N's neck, drawing her closer. Y/N instinctively leaned in, her eyes fluttering shut.

Their lips met, softly at first, a gentle press that was full of all the unspoken words, all the secret longing, all the quiet understanding they had built between them.

It was a kiss that tasted of tears and hope, of long-held secrets finally revealed, of a connection found in the most unexpected way. It deepened slowly, tenderly, a universe of emotion unfolding between them.

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her entire being, a sense of belonging so profound it stole her breath away. In Megan's arms, in that moment, under the soft glow of the dorm room light, Y/N Y/L/N finally felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be, finally, truly, the right Y/L/N.

previous part. | next part

a/n: Here you go! The last part of this story. I truly enjoyed writing this one. Shout out to my lovely 🌹anon, you're the reason behind all this! I hope I gave justice to your idea. I was smiling the whole time I was writing this part. Thank you to everyone who read this and liked it, whether you're a silent reader or not, I truly appreciate you.

[miunachan]

Soft & Cozy Story Ideas ♥

Hey ✿

This time I wanted to share with you a few soft & cozy gameplay/story ideas for The Sims 4 ♥ They are pretty ✧basic✧ and easy to play after a long and exhausting day just to chill out🌿

Most of the ideas are also base game compatible, nevertheless I included recommended but optional packs ❀ Feel free to comment your cozy story ideas and I will happily add them to this list~

Here is the original post. And in case you like cute Sims 4 stuff, please take a look at my Patreon ♥

My other story ideas ✧. ✲ﾟ･｡✧･ﾟ ✿ Ultimate List of Business Ideas ✿ Very Dramatic Story Ideas

Happy simming =^◕⩊◕^= ~ MiunaChan ♥

🌾 Simdew Valley

She has inherited an old, run-down farm from a distant relative. With nothing but a few basic tools and a lot of determination, she sets out to restore it to its former glory. She cares for animals, grows fresh produce, and slowly transforms the neglected land into a thriving homestead. Will she turn it into a successful business or simply enjoy the peaceful farm life?

Recommended Packs: Cottage Living, Horse Ranch, Seasons, Businesses & Hobbies

👶 Cozy Parenthood Journey

She always dreamed of having a family, and now that dream is coming true! From decorating the nursery to knitting tiny clothes, every day is filled with excitement and preparation for the new arrival. Once the baby is born, she embraces the cozy chaos of late-night feedings, lullabies, and first steps. Will she find the perfect balance between self-care, family life, and her own dreams?

Recommended Packs: Growing Together, Nifty Knitting, Parenthood

🧙‍♂️ The Thanatology Scholar

Fascinated by the mysteries of life and death, your Sim immerses themselves in the study of thanatology. They attend lectures, read ancient texts, and experiment with spiritual practices. Along the way, they uncover hidden truths and develop a special connection to the spirit world.

Recommended Packs: Life and Death, Realm of Magic, Paranormal Stuff

🖌 Artist’s Peaceful Retreat

She retreats to a charming lakeside cottage to finally dedicate herself fully to her art. Every day is spent painting, sculpting, or writing – inspired by the breathtaking nature around her. Will she sell her first masterpiece or simply create for her own joy?

Recommended Packs: Dream Home Decorator, City Living, Businesses & Hobbies

🔮 Enchanted Village Life

She has always felt drawn to the mystical and unknown. When she moves into a tiny, ivy-covered cottage at the edge of the forest, strange things begin to happen — her garden flourishes overnight, fireflies seem to whisper secrets, and the old spellbook on the dusty shelf calls to her. As she brews herbal teas, crafts protective charms, and befriends a mischievous fox, she slowly uncovers the magic hidden within herself. Will she embrace her new life as the village’s gentle witch?

Recommended Packs: Realm of Magic, Cottage Living, Paranormal Stuff

🧘‍♀️ Zen Retreat

Seeking inner peace and balance, your Sim leaves behind the hustle and bustle of everyday life to run a small wellness retreat. They spend their days practicing yoga, meditating, and offering relaxing massages to visitors. As they help others find tranquility, they may just discover a deeper sense of harmony within themselves.

Recommended Packs: Spa Day, Snowy Escape, Businesses & Hobbies

🌊 Mermaid’s Hidden Cove

Deep beneath the waves, your Sim has always felt a special connection to the ocean. One day, they discover a hidden cove, teeming with magic and mystery. As they embrace their mermaid heritage, they explore underwater secrets, befriend turtles, and gather treasures lost to time. Will they remain in the depths forever, or will they find a way to balance life on land and sea?

Recommended Packs: Island Living, Realm of Magic, Outdoor Retreat

🐶 Pet Whisperer

She has a heart for animals and takes in stray dogs and cats. Her little home is filled with love, fluffy friends, and daily adventures in the park. Maybe one day, she’ll even adopt a horse and expand her cozy home?

Recommended Packs: Cats & Dogs, Horse Ranch, My First Pet Stuff

🚐 Van Life Adventure

She has left her old life behind and now lives in a renovated van. Every day is a new place, new encounters, and cozy evenings with a guitar by the campfire. Will she eventually settle down, or will she stay on the road forever?

Recommended Packs: Snowy Escape, Outdoor Retreat

☕ Little Book Café

She has always dreamed of owning her own café – and now it's finally happening! Her little shop is the perfect retreat for book lovers who want to enjoy a cappuccino and a good story. Can she turn her tiny café into a beloved gathering place for creative souls?

Recommended Packs: Get Together, Get to Work, Businesses & Hobbies

🍎 Classic Cottagecore Dream

She has escaped the city and bought a little cottage in the countryside. Here, she lives the dream of a simple life: feeding chickens, growing vegetables, making homemade jam, and writing letters to a mysterious pen pal. Who knows – maybe the mailman will soon bring more than just bills?

Recommended Packs: Cottage Living, Seasons, Eco Lifestyle

🏡 Tiny Home Escape

The call of minimalism has reached her! She sold her big house and now lives in a self-built tiny home. She discovers how little she really needs – and how much joy comes from living with nature and focusing on what truly matters.

Recommended Packs: Tiny Living, Eco Lifestyle, Outdoor Retreat

📚 Cozy College Life

Your Sim isn’t here to party hard — they’re here to enjoy the simple joys of student life. Early morning coffee runs, study sessions in a sunlit library, and cozy nights spent journaling in their dorm. They join a book club, decorate their tiny student apartment with fairy lights, and take peaceful walks around campus. Will they graduate with honors, or will they discover that learning is about more than just grades?

Recommended Packs: Discover University, High School Years

🎶 Slow Life Musician

She enjoys a relaxed life in a small apartment. By day, she works in a record store; by night, she plays guitar at a cozy café. Music is her lifeblood – will she one day write a song that changes her life forever?

Recommended Packs: City Living, Get Famous

🍰 Comfort Baking Challenge

Baking is her passion! Every day, she tries new recipes and invites friends and neighbors to taste her latest creations. Maybe one day, she’ll even open a little cupcake shop?

Recommended Packs: Home Chef Hustle, Get to Work, Businesses & Hobbies

🌿 Secret Garden

Her tiny garden is her pride and joy. She spends her days tending to plant, growing herbs, and creating a beautiful flower bed. Will she start her own flower shop or discover the magic of healing herbs?

Recommended Packs: Seasons, Eco Lifestyle, Cottage Living

🧶 Cozy Grandparent Life

Knitting, gardening, and baking fill her days – until she stumbles upon an old love letter she never sent. Her heart races. Could her first love still be out there somewhere? And if so, what will happen if they meet again after all these years?

Recommended Packs: Nifty Knitting, Growing Together, My Wedding Stories

[leviackermanstoes]

GOD PLEASE I NEED ALUCARD X FEM READER WHO IS ALSO HALF VAMPIRE. It would be good if we got something along the timeline of castlevania nocture. Maybe Alucard mets the reader after decades or so. Reader has the same personality as Alucard but she’s more straightforward and obviously very supportive of whatever Alucard is on about. YEARNING ALARM INCOMING.

Bring back male yearning🙏uh I kinda changed it up a bit but it should still be okay I hope😭

---

He's begging babe, stay, stay, stay...stay...stay.

-very little warnings on this one. Just lots of fluff and cute alucard. Sappy vampire shit. Minor sad themes🫶

-

you stood by the training dummies watching as richter practised his moves. It was late into the afternoon, and even later, when maria returned with the fruits, she said she had been told to gather.

"Told by who?" Your brows furrowed.

"Alucard" maria shrugged her shoulders and walked off.

Staring as your heart skipped a beat, you found yourself wanting to fall into the grass to your knees. Alucard? There was no way. Not your alucard...? You stood up and told richter training was over and walked him back to the castle where all your suspicions and fears were made true.

There, at the bottom of castle steps, stood None other than adriān alucard tepes in all his glory, tall and unwavering Like a pale, golden brick wall. As he conversed with maria, you hoped you would be able to sneak past him in order to avoid drama or a sticky situation.

But as soon as his golden eyes met yours. You were done for.

"___?"

He said it shakily and breathy as if he didn't believe it was actually you. He stepped away from maria and walked towards you where his head almost fell off his shoulders. You weren't fake. But how were you still here? Still so you, still so...beautiful.

Alucard's hands were still shaking when he reached out to feel your shoulder, immediately taking them away in seconds so as not to make you uncomfortable. You didn't know what to make of all of this, your former love and the only man who ever made you feel worth something was standing infront of you after all these years.

50

Fifty fucking years.

"Adriān?"

It's not like you believed it yourself either. I mean, he was here, just standing here with the other teen you had been training. Standing before you like, he'd never left that position in all those decades he spent apart from you. Would he even want to love you again? And if you tried to tell him how strong your feelings for him still are, would he reciprocate them?

"We should uhhh...head inside before the storm comes over"

Richter stuttered on his words as him and maria watched the two of you. Alucard turnt his head, leaving his eyes on you for as long as he can before he puts them to richter.

"Head inside, we shall meet you momentarily"

And as the rains began to pour, young richter belmont and maria renard ran inside, leaving their mentors to stand in the freezing rain. It had been maria's guess that alucard hated rain, so she had to give him her extra bread at dinner.

"Where have you been?" He asked shakily.

Truth be told, you had never seen him so...like this. So desperate yet so far away that telling him anything either brought him closer or too far away to hear the rest of your words. Afraid of admitting to him that you had been thinking about him every second since the two of you split up.

"I've been out fighting. Protecting targoviste"

"Targoviste?" He repeated.

Alucard puts his lips together. You're so unsure of what to do that it's almost impossible to find any kind of words to say to him, so you give him a smile and walk inside with either tears or rain gathering on your face.

-

Richter belmont watched as you stood on the castles balcony, pondering over the last hour that you went through. He thought maybe that you and alucard were just having a rough patch and were actually the best of friends, but after seeing the whole day having gone through without your both talking, he knew something had to be more than just not talking.

"Miss?" He said

"Yes, richter?" You turnt your head.

The tall teen walked to you with a curious head on him. You knew he wanted to know about you and alucard, but you didn't quite know what to tell him because for all sakes of heaven, you didn't even know what to tell yourself.

"I know what you're here for richter. Sit and I'll tell you everything you want to know"

Who were you to deny your young trainee what he asked for? A simple sappy, emotional story that he willing wanted to hear.

"Where do you want me to start?" You asked him

Richter's face dwindled. "At the start. I want to hear everything if you can"

You nodded at him. Staring down into the down dark forest, only a few thoughts came to your mind. It's all so thorough, so inextricably bound to you through your heart and soul that you don't even know how much you can say without falling into pieces.

"Alucard is... someone very important to me. He's been there for me when I needed him and when I didn't"

"When you didn't?" Richter interjected.

"Yes. Often, he would appear even when I was mad at him or angry with him or after we'd had a fight. Alucard would've hugged me even if I had told him i never to see him again" you almost laughed to yourself.

You weren't sure if richter was going to understand the level of love, but you figured that if he wanted to know, he may have some idea.

"So is he your husband?" He asked

And well

You didn't want to answer that. "No. He's not. But he is someone I love dearly"

"So why did you not talk to him for decades?"

You sighed. And just like every other year, someone had asked you that you put your head in your hands and didn't care whether or not your hair was in front of your face. As the cold wind blew on your dress gently or tore it to shreds.

"It's hard to say." You rested your chin on your hands, holding your head up as you found the words. "People grow apart sometimes"

"You don't seem like people who grow apart"

For a 19 year old, he was oddly wise in what he said. Just like trevor. Who might have been an idiot at times, but there was a time he couldn't give the best words to help you.

"Where's the time going to spend all of it together?" You replied.

----

It wasn't til late the next night when alucard finally spoke a word to you after your moment. His black clothing was blending into the dark forest as you both walked, only the bits of gold gleamed.

He was still as beautiful as the day he let you go. Still so angelic and bright-eyed. Still looking like everything you wanted. Still so riddled with haunt and dread but managing to look ethereal.

"So...what have your decades been like?" Is all you managed to say.

Alucard stopped in his tracks, you turnt back to look at him. His face was undeniably read with something visibly...almost pissed off. In a way that made you suddenly scared for your life.

"Adriān?"

"Don't"

"What's happened?" You asked

Alucard only stood there in silence as if he expected you to know what he was thinking. But you weren't a mind reader. Maybe he had had a couple of bad years and you had triggered him by asking.

You stepped closer to him.

"Is that seriously all you have to say to me?" His brows are tight in frustration.

"I-im sorry i-" alucard tightly grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him.

All the air between the two of you was sucked out and all hope of having a civil conversation was almost gone when his cold hand came to your cheek. But he stopped himself.

"Fuck"

And then he stepped away like he'd made a grave mistake. You could now only see his broad back and smell him on you, all over and in the air. Just like every day.

"Please don't leave me in the dark again adriān"

"For so long," his voice was gruff and smooth. It's tense like he struggled to speak. "I waited to see you again. Gods above, I prayed to every single one of them just to see you again. I would've scoured the burnt edged of the world to find you again"

He turnt to you, golden eyes immediately found yours.

"And now that I have you, it's like every fibre of my being has been torn to shreds and sealed in a box only you can open again. I am on fire when I am with you, thin like paper so that you may never feel I am hiding anything from you, and yet..."

Alucard sighed, his fangs baring just slightly. Something that always made you drown. Alucard was beautiful, stunning, and angelic, and he knew it. You felt like he did use it against you sometimes. As trevor once told you, "Pretty people get whatever they want by looking at you"

And alucard was a perfect example.

"Yet you look at me as if you don't know anything about me. Like I am the only person in the world you despise"

Despise? Not a word you would use to describe how you felt about alucard...your Adriān...your lover. You're everything. You want to say maybe you could but you know absolutely know from the bottom of you heart that there is no corner of your soul where adriān tepes is despised by you.

"I don't despise you. Gods, i could never despise you. " you breathed out

Tears welled in your eyes. "For gods sake, you stupid vampire, come and kiss me, would you"

Without a second thought, alucard almost teleported to you, and within a second, he is kissing you like there's nothing else in the world to do. You can feel the scratching on his nails as he grabs at your hair, but you don't care. You don't care about anything except for the fact that the man who has entirely captured your heart has his lips on yours for the first time after decades, almost centuries of pining over him and begging at the sky, adrian alucard tepes finally has you in his grasp.

[vanilladollette]

helloo!

do u think u can a make a head canon on how the glory characters would react or do when they found out that the reader has a terminal illness and only has a few months left to live?? to make it more dramatic they're involve with the reader and could u also make them the aftermath when reader died?? thank you:D

- The Glory characters with terminal ill reader

Warnings: Grief, huge angst, details of being sick and death.

Author's note: none . . . ?

Moon Dong-eun

When she finds out:

Immediately goes into “fix it” mode—researching treatments, clinical trials, even illegal methods.

Tries to stay calm for your sake, but you catch her staring at you with watery eyes when she thinks you’re asleep.

Becomes incredibly protective, shielding you from stress or anyone who might upset you.

Starts writing letters to you, but never gives them. She’s terrified of saying goodbye.

After your death:

Withdraws from everyone. She disappears from the public eye.

Keeps your favorite book by her bedside and rereads it constantly.

Visits your grave in the rain, sitting in silence for hours.

Uses the grief to drive herself harder, never letting your memory fade into vengeance.

Park Yeon-jin

When she finds out:

At first, she refuses to believe it, thinking it’s a manipulation or a cruel joke.

When the truth hits, she becomes frantic—offering money, favors, flying in specialists.

Tells you that you can’t leave her, because she doesn’t know how to be alone.

Shows real vulnerability for the first time, pleading, “Please don’t leave me.”

After your death:

Shuts down emotionally. Cold, sharp, and bitter toward everyone.

Keeps your photo on her vanity but never speaks your name again.

Occasionally breaks down alone in the shower or in her car, punching the steering wheel in rage.

Secretly wears the ring or accessory you gave her under her clothes every day.

Lee Sa-ra

When she finds out:

Laughs nervously at first, high out of her mind, thinking you’re joking.

When reality hits, she crashes hard—quits drugs (briefly) to be present for you.

Tries to get as much paintings of you as she can—portraits, abstract pieces, dream-like scenes

Sleeps beside your hospital bed.

After your death:

Spirals back into addiction, haunted by your memory.

Talks to you while high, believing you’re still with her.

Keeps one of your scarves tied around her wrist like a security blanket.

Jeon Jae-joon

When he finds out:

Immediately denies it, yelling at the doctors, accusing them of lying.

Rages behind closed doors but softens completely when he’s with you.

Spends a fortune trying to prolong your life, even bribing shady clinics.

Holds you like you’re porcelain, constantly saying, “Don’t go. I’ll give you anything.”

After your death:

Becomes colder, more dangerous—angrier at the world.

Keeps your perfume bottle in his drawer and wears your ring on a chain.

Stops dating entirely, saying no one compares to you.

Can’t sleep in the bed you two shared—starts sleeping on the couch, or not at all.

Choi Hye-jeong

When she finds out:

Falls apart immediately, crying hysterically, asking why this is happening to you and not her.

Tries to be everything you need—supportive, cheerful, doting—while clearly cracking inside.

Plans a “bucket list” of silly and sweet things to do together before time runs out.

Constantly says, “I love you” like it’s a shield against fate.

After your death:

Posts tributes on social media constantly, sometimes talking to you in the captions.

Keeps every message, photo, and voicemail. Plays your voice at night when she can’t sleep.

Wears your favorite clothes, mimics your mannerisms unconsciously.

Tries to live like you’d want her to, but often stares blankly into space for hours.

Son Myeong-oh

When he finds out:

Goes silent. Doesn’t react at first—like the news didn’t compute.

Then becomes impulsive—starting fights, picking up dangerous gigs, acting like nothing matters.

Only softens when you cry. That’s when he breaks, holding you like he’ll break too.

Sleeps by your hospital bed, holding your hand tightly even when you’re unconscious.

After your death:

Vanishes for weeks. No calls. No trace.

Returns with hollow eyes, thinner, and quieter.

Gets your name tattooed on his chest or over his heart.

Keeps your sweater. Never washes it. Sleeps with it every night.

Joo Yeo-jeong

When he finds out:

Takes it the hardest emotionally but hides it well in front of you.

Stays by your side for every appointment, every sleepless night, holding your hand.

Tries to make you laugh even when his voice trembles.

Tells you he’d trade places with you if he could, every single day.

After your death:

Becomes a shell of himself—still gentle, but somber.

Starts volunteering at the hospice center where you passed, comforting others in your name.

Writes letters to you weekly and leaves them at your grave.

Keeps your stethoscope (if applicable) or something small and meaningful in his pocket.

Ha Do-yeong

When he finds out:

Tries to stay rational. Quietly hires the best specialists and makes arrangements.

Doesn’t show emotion until you ask him if he’s scared—then he breaks, just once, in private.

Brings you flowers daily. Holds your hand like you’re already fading.

Tells you you’ve changed him, that he never knew love until you.

After your death:

Withdraws from his company temporarily.

Keeps your photo on his desk and looks at it before every decision.

Reads your favorite book to Ye-sol and says, “They loved this one too.”

Never takes off the ring or bracelet you gave him. Still sets a seat for you at dinner sometimes.

[calisverse]

HEAVY IS THE HEAD: all these sentences had been taken from goodreads quotes source with the key word of : crown. change pronouns, titles, locations and names as you see fit.

“Truth is beauty”

“Do not wait for a coronation; the greatest emperors crown themselves.”

“A King and Queen cannot support a crown with eyes looking down. Their universe expands as far as you can see.”

“Rise, Luthiel, in the name of love you came and in the name of love I crown you!”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown”

“He will be the destruction of the crown and the ruination of the throne.”

“A crown doesn't really do much of anything. Just sits on one's head, quite useless. Oh, I suppose it sparkles.'

“As long as you want the belt, don’t run away from the fight. Do what it takes to win the battles you face.”

“Just because a moth flies close to a flame and lives, doesn't mean the next time it won't catch fire”

“But what good is a crown when your head can't hold it? What good is a throne when it is a wheelchair? And what good is a king with no kingdom?”

“I wore my crown long before the king came.”

“I mean, power hungry has to be genetic. I mean, how he got that crown on his head so young? Fifteen is the youngest ever to ascend.”

“There are fireflies winking around his head, landing in his hair. A crown. His dive is infuriatingly graceful.”

“But men are shortsighted. Especially when a heavy crown is blocking their eyes.”

“The day you remove the crown from your head is the day you will become the real queen.”

“Illusion is the crown of the herd - kings that remain sheep.”

“A crown of feathers amidst the rugged terrain, an eagle's kingdom takes its reign.”

“Use your imagination. Wear your crown on the inside.”

“A queen is not made by a crown but by the fire in her soul. The Lioness of Bharat is a tribute to the fearless spirit that shapes legends.”

“A king is not his throne nor his crown.”

“On the night when the moons are under the veil of a storm, a daughter to the crown shall be born.”

“There is no crown without guilt.”

“Fear not the dead, fear the living...”

“. . . golden brilliance splitting through the clouds like the crown of a princess on her coronation day.”

“There's always something left to lose”

“A crown is both a great gift and an onerous burden.”

“Perhaps in another time, I would have considered what it meant to meet inside a broken crown. Today, I was too intent on who waited for us there.”

“Lucid dreams are the dreamer’s treasure.”

“It is spiritually wise to protect your crown. Do not allow everyone to put their hands in your hair.”

“Even when she's dethroned by hardship, she still wears the sun as a crown.”

“A crown of kisses to the queen of dreams.”

“A smart woman fixes her own crown and does not dethrone other women from their own glory. For she knows on her own, she is strong.”

“Does that mean you won’t be building me a castle in our new kingdom?”

“Because, your grandmother said I could be prince of the Enchanted Forest.  She’s going to steal me a crown and everything.  We have it all planned.”

“A crown of thrones and stars to show the world that we are as much of dreamers as they are but we are merciless and restless in achieving our goals”

“I think you underestimate the stubbornness a crown can press into a man or woman's mind.”

“A prudent woman wears her crown with pride. She believes in the power of love and she knows the value of her life.”

“If you don't take your eyes off the crowd, you may miss the crown.”

“Do not wear spiritualism as a crown to inflate your EGO....be mindful”

“She got an empty crown filled with lies and deception”

“Admit it, peasants… Could the usurper wearing my crown have pulled that off?”

“God will be attractive both in the cross and in the crown”

“That’s because the true power of magic is not to send random objects careening off across the room. The true power of magic is to make ordinary people bow.”

“I hold an old-fashioned notion that a happy marriage is the crown of a woman’s life.”

“As a king can wear a crown, a crown can also weary a king.”

“If you want to miss your crown, follow the crowd. If you want to wear the crown, go alone and be yourself.”

“Ah, Princess, a crown is more discomfort than adornment. If you have learned that, you have already learned much.”

“Cursed the crown that brought such grief to me”

“The greatest warriors fight not for crowns and splendor, but for love.”

“What you express in your character is what your lifestyle crowns”

“Who ever heard of a king without ears? Why, his crown would fall straight down to his neck!”

“A girl in a crown of stars was coming toward him, but before she could see who he was he slipped through his curtains of flesh.”

“Who in the universe halts when the enemy tells them to?”

“God has ordained you for your own assignment in the Kingdom”

“It's you, our queen with your crown, going into some body of water where we cannot follow you.”

“It was a hollow victory they gave me. A crown...it was the girl I prayed them for. Your sister, safe... and mine again as she was meant to be. I ask you, Ned, what good is it to wear a crown?”

“I want something good to die for. . . to make it beautiful to live.”

[senualothbrok]

Oath of Devotion

Summary: When you accompany Karlach to Avernus after the defeat of the Netherbrain, you assume it is the end of your romance with Gale. But you have a lot to learn about the meaning of devotion.

An exploration of the power of love and friendship, featuring Professor Gale, Paladin Tav, Karlach and Wyll.

Word count: 6.6k

AO3 link

Disclaimers: Non-18+. Mild hurt/comfort.

A/N: This fic is dedicated to @dekariosclan, who wanted a story about a Tav who romances Gale but goes with Karlach to Avernus. I hope this hits the spot for you!

The dialogue in the scene at Withers' party is canon but for a few additions- you can watch it here.

Thank you again to @inglorionamy-ammy, beta reader extraordinaire.

She barrels into you when you hold it out. It is a ratty, one-eyed thing, as bruised and battered as you look on this winding road through death and destruction. But Karlach’s face lights up like you are offering her a gold-plated battleaxe, not an abandoned rag of a teddy bear.

“Mate!” she screeches, and you lurch at the tackling force of her embrace. “You shouldn't have!”

You cackle, because every time it is the same. As the heap of discarded and deformed teddies in her tent grows, each one anointed with a name and cherished place next to the inimitable Clive, so too does Karlach’s excitement. When you found her the first couple in a deserted shack - whimsically named Sasha and Roberto - you assumed that the novelty would soon wear off. But as usual, Karlach's enthusiasm knows no bounds.

“He's so cute!” She shrieks as she draws back from you, squishing the mangled thing against her cheek. “He looks like a Gary. Yeah. That's right. Gary. That's what we'll call him.”

She beams as she assigns Gary a sacred place within the mound of teddies in the corner of her tent. Peering inside, you chuckle at the chaos of weapons, armour and trinkets littered around her. She pats Gary proudly on the head as she returns to you. 

“Never gets old.” You mirror her grin. 

“You’re the best.” 

She gives you a quick squeeze. You ignore the way her skin sears yours in her elation - nothing that a simple healing spell cannot fix - and clasp her shoulder with a laugh. When she gestures towards the blanket laid out on the grass and the bottle of wine beside it, you nod keenly, bounding over to lay side by side, staring up at the stars. 

You have always been a traveller, journeying from place to place to follow whatever orders you received from the Justiciars of Tyr. Camping out under the bright expanse of the night sky is as familiar to you as breathing. The road has always been your home. 

It is not that you hated returning to the Halls of Justice, your headquarters in Waterdeep, where you spent most of your formative years. But over time, it has worn on you, the rigid, tight-lipped Tyrran priests, the narrow-eyed magistrates, knights and lords who were as joyless as they were harsh. It was not that you did not love Tyr, that you did not believe in truth and justice and law and order. It was not that you did not wish to defend and protect. You just could not see why you had to be so miserable while doing it.

You have never been the sombre, stick-up-the-arse sort, the type to inspire hushed envy. You have always had your feet firmly on the ground, quick to laugh, slow to put on airs and graces. You are straightforward, run of the mill. With you, what you see is what you get.

You are ordinary. Unremarkable.

So you have known, from the start, that you would never rise up the ranks. You know you will never be a Justiciar of Tyr. And though that harrowed you when you were young and wide eyed - so determined to bring honour and glory to your parents as they toiled away on their meagre farmstead - you find it amusing now. With the stench of the House of Hope still clinging to your pores, you and Karlach guffaw at Raphael’s ridiculous singing as you felled him, the crash of Yurgir falling to the floor like a drunken toddler as she delivered the killing blow. Though the threat of doom looms around every corner, the fate of Faerun hanging over you like a noose, joy burns within you with a ferocity that you have never felt before. You have never felt more alive, or less alone.

But when Karlach tells you, in a conspiratorial, slightly bashful tone, about how tenderly Wyll removed a stray leaf from her hair earlier, she suddenly halts. Her face contorts as she sucks in a sharp breath. Her hand flies to her chest. You jerk up, stiff with worry. 

“It’s alright.” She grits her teeth. “It’ll pass. It’s alright.”

Scorching tendrils pulse out from her chest, serrated cuts threatening to rip her apart. You grimace, your fingers sizzling as they rest on her arm. She curls into herself, braced against the onslaught. You feel frenzied, helpless. All you can do is wait. 

“Karlach,” you plead after a pause. “We need to get you to–”

“Don’t,” she chokes. “Don’t even say it.”

Her fire is hurting now. You cannot help but flinch back. “It’s getting worse. I can’t just watch you-”

“Tav.” Her eyes are dark wells, flickering with flame. You realise that she is crying from the pain. “Don’t ask me. I won’t go back. I’m never going back.”

You shake your head. It is an argument you have had with her before. You do not wish to see the glee in your friend’s eyes shatter into rage, to hear her breathless from anguish rather than laughter. You do not wish to tell her what she does not want to hear. But you cannot bear it. You cannot allow her to suffer when there is a solution within her grasp.

“Ten years,” she spits out. “Ten years in that fucking place, with nothing and no one to call my own.” A fine mist rises from her heart as tears trickle down her skin. “I would rather die than be alone again.”

You notice that the flare of her chest is dimming, her breaths levelling as her features soften. But her resolve remains, as unyielding as her goodness, her loyalty, her zeal for life. You would not change her, not for all the fame and glory in the realms.

In that moment, you want to promise her. You want to tell her that she would not be returning to Avernus alone. But your mind is flooded by indigo streaks across a blue-green sky, the sandalwood scent of a brown sea, the spell of stubble on your skin. And you cannot speak.

So you take her hand, and you do not let go, even when your skin begins to blister.

*****

“How in the hells did you get everyone to clear off for the night?”

You are still adjusting to the stillness of your room at the Elfsong Tavern. After the whirlwind of panting cries and thrown off armour, the lurching groans of the bed beneath you, the calm feels almost unnatural. 

Your head rises and falls on Gale’s chest as he laughs. You feel it as a low rumble through you, your arm draped over the muscled grooves of his abdomen. The damp down on his skin tickles your cheek as your fingers weave upwards through his tangled locks. You are drunk on the taste and scent of him, heady and bittersweet.  It is a crackling bonfire on the coldest of nights, a bottomless ache that rubs you raw. You cannot get enough of him. You do not know how you will survive a separation.

“I confess, I did have some help from Karlach and Wyll.” He chuckles. “The three of us can be very persuasive. As can a generous budget for evening entertainment.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.” 

You flick your tongue playfully over his nipple. He tenses, moans, tightens his grip on the cheek of your ass. All at once, you are ravenous. 

“I live to impress you.”  

The kiss starts as it always does, tender with longing, a gentle caress. And then you are all hunger and need, wanting and grasping and seeking, drinking from each other with a thirst that cannot be slaked. Drowning in the sea of him.

It scares you. The all-consuming demand of it, the fierceness of the passion that swallows you whole. The way the yearning blazes through every part of you, breaking down the barriers you have fortified between your mind, body and soul. How completely you want him, as though he is the answer to your every question. A feeling like no other, for a man like no other. 

You have always been wary of reckless abandon. It was a lesson you learned early on in your travels. Love was a recipe for disaster when you could not guarantee you would be alive from one week to the next, or predict the movements of your missions. Love was a privilege you could not afford. Temporary delights sated the cravings of your flesh. You told yourself that was enough.

And then you met him.

“I’ve never felt this way before.”

You are not sure why you say it. Perhaps it is your body speaking, wrapped up in him, caught in a drowsy lull, fleetingly sated. He has expressed his love for you countless times, but you have not yet used the word. You are not sure what love means, beyond the orb and Mystra and the Crown of Karsus, beyond the Netherbrain and the threat of the end of the world. You see no half measures, no deceit or reserve in him. When he speaks of love, he means it.

But who is to say his love is not formed from desperation? That it is not just gratitude at unexpected companionship, a compulsion to seize every moment for fear that it might be his last? If you defeat the danger that threw you together, how can you be sure his love will endure? That you will not return to your vastly separate lives, as though it were all just a passing reprieve?

He smiles, glowing with the sheen of sweat, soft and hard and magnificent. 

“Nor have I. And I never will again.”

His sincerity still surprises you. The openness of his gaze, like a clear horizon. You could lose yourself in the promise of his love. But you steel yourself. You remember who you are, the life you have led. He jumps on your hesitation. 

“Do you doubt me?”

You try to sound wry, teasing.  

“We’ve both been around awhile, Gale. You’ve had lovers before Mystra. You know your way around a bedroom.”

He tilts his head. “I can't tell if that's a compliment or a caveat.” His brow flickers, the beginnings of a frown. “Is that a cause for doubt, or…?”

“No. Yes. Well.” You look away, and when you meet his eyes again, you see that he is not fooled. Sometimes, it is unnerving to be known. To be seen. “What I’m saying is… you could have anyone you want. You did before, and you can again.”

You cannot bring yourself to mention the future. To ask, even implicitly, what will happen if you save the world and survive. If this is to be a pleasurable distraction, a momentary delight, then you would not want to ruin it. Yet somehow, the uncertainty is a thorn in your heart. It hurts to acknowledge it.

His eyes widen, as though he is stricken, almost offended. 

“And I want you. Only you.”

He cups your cheek. There is an urgency there. Under the intensity of his gaze, you feel vaguely embarrassed. You had not planned to show him this. Your doubt. Your vulnerability.

But it does not deter him. Inexplicably, you know it never would. 

“I love you, Tav.” His voice trembles with conviction. “I've never met anyone like you. You're…extraordinary. Extraordinarily beautiful. Extraordinarily strong. Extraordinarily kind, and wise.”

He pauses briefly, and the curl of his upper lip sends a roiling through your core. 

“Extraordinary in your…unique talents.”

Your eyelids flutter as his fingers whisper over your hip, settling just beneath your navel. The catch in his breath mirrors your own.

“I’ve spent a lifetime waiting for you, and I'd wait a thousand more.” 

He says the words like they are easy. Like they are not oaths, solemn and harrowing - a sacrifice only made for the greatest reward. You struggle against them, and you are not sure why. You want to trust him, but you do not know how.

Because you have always suspected that love was never meant for the likes of you. The love Gale speaks of is the stuff of songs and sagas, fairytales of noble maidens, not gruffly scarred farmer's daughters who have made no mark on the world. And you know, with every fibre of your being, that Gale deserves immeasurably more than your mediocre offering.

Fear and hope flit across Gale’s features as he gazes at you, waiting. You know he wants you to reply. He needs you to tell him you feel the same. To declare that you love him with the same consuming constancy. That you are his, just as he is yours.

But you cannot speak. His turmoil pierces you, and you feel helpless, frenzied. So you crush yourself against him, and you answer with a kiss.

*****

You are grumbling at the rip in your breeches, your punishment for swinging at a rabid imp just a second too late. The sky is darkening like a blood clot. Karlach is jabbing at the caves in the distance where you will make camp, launching into ancient strategies and hoarded secrets. With her engine stabilised here, she is broader, defter, more self-assured. In spite of the smothering decay of Avernus, she radiates with life.

But you are exhausted. The stink of sulphur scours you, and you wonder if you will ever feel clean again. You long for the relief of lush greens and blinding blues, the caress of silk and softness. You miss the cool brush of the wind and sea. And beneath the murk and mire, a chasm has opened inside you that you struggle to ignore.

You are nodding and grunting as Karlach spitballs, and then you see it. A mangled lump by your feet. A soiled leather cover, clinging to shreds of charred vellum. You surge forward to pick it up.

“I reckon we'll be safe there tonight, but–”

Karlach stops, glancing over. “What?”

You sweep away the crust of dust and blood from its scorched surface. Nearby, a half-buried skeleton gapes in rotted robes. 

“A spell book. Useless now.”

Karlach stares at you. You can feel the weight of her appraisal as the memories assail you - dancing fingers and lavender lightning, intricate crow's feet adorning smiling eyes. Rumbling incantations, tingling on your skin.

You stuff the tattered tome into your pack and walk on.

***

You are flicking through the remains of the torched tome. In the glow of the dying campfire, you can just about make out the haphazard scrawl of its dead owner. You are disappointed by the sharp, messy strokes, so harsh and ugly compared to the elegant cursive you know so well. The sparse pages, devoid of elaborate diagrams and rambling annotations. Their emptiness winds you. Grief follows like a wave, and you fight against the shaking of your hands.

“Come on then, soldier. Out with it.”

You start at Karlach's voice. The force of her presence jars you back from the brink. When you look up, her eyes are firm and gentle at the same time.

“Out with what?” you blurt.

She huffs, picking at the carcass of the abyssal chicken you shared for supper. 

“Whatever’s got your goat.” 

Instinctively, you wave her away. But you gasp as she lurches forward, grabbing you by the shoulders. When you break free, she holds your gaze.

“You know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, right?”

You are stunned by her unexpected seriousness. She waits, expectant, stubborn. You sigh. 

“Of course I do.”

Her brows steeple. “Then talk to me. Because if I have to go one more day seeing you this fucking miserable, my heart might actually break.”

You raise an eyebrow, your last defence. “We came here to stop that from happening.”

“Exactly!” She throws her hands up. “So ‘fess up.”

You shift awkwardly. You suddenly realise how difficult it is to speak about your feelings, even to Karlach. Not simple feelings like lust or anger, amusement or delight. Not the stuff of throwaway comments, wry banter or gushing anecdotes. Those things come as easily to you as your friendship.

No. What you cannot admit is the gaping hole inside you. How it felt to be cocooned in his embrace. The miracle of joining your soul to his, as though you had always been complete. The boundless warmth of him nestled inside you, flowing around you, melting into you. The ebb and flow of home.

You remember the anguished panic on his face, shadowed in the setting sun. The realisation in his searching eyes as you knelt beside Karlach on the docks, paralysed by choice. The tight line of his soft lips as you looked at him one last time, haunted by the ghost of that final, unclaimed kiss, of everything spoken and unspoken.

If you speak of these things, they will swallow you whole. And you are not sure you can endure that, even after all the battles you have survived.

“You can talk about him, you know,” she says, as though she can read your mind. As though you never needed a tadpole to understand each other.

“Who?” A knee jerk answer.

Karlach rolls her eyes. “Who do you think? Do you know another magic man with big doe eyes who can ride you into the astral plane?”

You grimace. On a drunken ramble back in Baldur’s Gate, you had described in detail to Karlach all the places and ways Gale had taken you. You will never live it down. 

“Admit it. You miss Gale. That's what's eating at you.”

Part of you wants to shrug her off, tell her to drop it. But you know the doggedness of Karlach’s loyalty, constant as the sun. She jostles you, a motion meant to reassure. Her nails rap loudly against her chest, a clattering echo around the darkness of the cave.

“When we've fixed this baby, we'll go home. I'll find Wyll, and you'll find Gale. It'll all work out. You'll see.”

She sounds so certain. Once again, you marvel at her stalwart optimism, unwavering through the most unimaginable cruelties. You feel almost ashamed to burst her bubble.

“Karlach, Gale and I aren't…” 

You gesture uselessly. Your chest heaves. 

“It's not like you and Wyll,” you manage. “You guys are practically married. You know he's waiting for you in Baldur’s Gate. He knows you'll go back to him when all this is done.”

“And?” She frowns. “How's that different?”

You look down at the spell book in your lap. A sliver of vellum dissolves into black dust on your fingers.

“I left, Karlach.” You sound defeated. Small.  

You watch as Karlach’s features tighten in thought, then widen in realisation. Sorrow twists on her face.

“Soldier,” she whispers. “I never asked for–”

You straighten immediately. “You didn't have to. I wanted to." Your voice swells as you clasp her arm. "You're my best mate, Karlach. My sister. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.”

For a moment, you think she might cry. Then she clutches you against her so tightly you can barely breathe. She does not smell of sandalwood and soap, but oil and sweat. And though her warmth is that of a blazing furnace and not the summer sea, you rest in it for a while. 

“He loves you, Tav." Her words are muffled by her embrace. "More than anything.”

“Maybe he did," you concede. "Maybe he was lonely, and horny, and scared. But I left. He’s probably given the Crown back to Mystra by now. She's probably taken him back.”

Karlach pulls back roughly. “You’re joking. You think Gale would go back to Mystra, after everything? After you?”

You shrug. “Well, if not Mystra, he could have his pick. Plenty for him to choose from.”

“I can't tell if you're being serious. Are you serious?”

She stares at you, incredulous. You draw in a shaky breath.

“It would never have lasted, Karlach."

You offer it as an explanation, but she seems more baffled than before.

“What in the hells are you talking about?”

An image of Gale comes to you unbidden. Poised and ready, all broad shoulders and billowing robes, threads of silver shining amidst the brown waves that frame his chiselled face. He flashes you that smouldering look, halfway between a smile and a smirk, as his lithe fingers whip up a storm in the distance.  

You toss the spell book on the ground.

"A man like Gale... a woman like me." Your jaw clenches. "What happened between us was a fluke. A blip for him. I probably did him a favour by leaving. No loose ends to tie up. Now he can move on. Greener pastures, and all that.”

Karlach stiffens and scoffs. “Now I know you can't be serious. Because my mate Tav isn't a total idiot who's completely lost the plot.”

You are taken aback by her uncharacteristic scorn. You are about to shoot back a reflexive retort when she halts. 

“Oh.” She blows out a long breath. “I get it.”

You twitch. “What now?” 

“It’s your blind spot." She nods smugly, as though she has cracked a puzzle. "Like how you drop your guard sometimes when you dodge.”

You do not follow. It does not escape Karlach's notice, the mounting frustration squirming beneath your skin.

“You can't see what's fucking obvious.” Her words are harsh, but her tone is placating. Patient. She sighs, heavy with affection. 

“Tav.”

There is tenderness in the way she leans forward, looking you straight in the eye. You cannot help but soften. To be mad at Karlach would be like fighting without your sword. You just cannot do it.

“This is a bloke who talked my ear off about how your armour brought out the green of your eyes.” She chuckles. “He just wouldn't shut up about you. How brave you are, how kind, how awesome you are. How the sun shines out of your arse. We used to leave him with Minsc just so we could have a break.”

She chortles, then notices your surprise. In mock defence, she raises her palms to you. 

“Look, I love Gale. You know I love Gale. And I adore you. But I really don't want to hear about your muscles bulging in the heat of battle. Or anywhere else.”

When you burst into laughter, Karlach beams.  

“Even Wyll couldn't take Gale's lectures. I think he even fell asleep once.” 

She bobs her head, lowering her voice into a husky baritone, her pointed finger wiggling in the air. 

“Do you have a minute? Because I need to tell you about how loyal and smart and caring Tav is. No, I must insist on telling you all about it. Now. Pish posh.”

You cackle, but you cannot stifle the ache that tears through you. What you would not give to have him here with you now, and not an absurd imitation.

“Gods, that man would not let up about you," Karlach groans. "Shadowheart almost threw up when Gale started talking about your musk. He almost melted Astarion’s brain, too, when he said your scars were ugly." 

You wish you had been there for these interchanges. You had no idea of them, beyond curiosity at Gale's unexpected affinity with Minsc. Now, the idea of Gale singing your praises and defending your honour makes you want to weep.

"A couple times, I even saw Lae'zel chuckle at the way Gale looked at you." She guffaws. "Lae'zel! Chuckling! She didn't even go off on one about istiks being pathetic. That's the power of love, right there.”

You are staring at your trembling hands. A whirlwind of hunger, hurt and hope is gathering inside you. You do not know what to do with it. 

Karlach is silent for a while. When she speaks again, her voice is solemn as a promise.

“He loves you, Tav. That kind of love doesn't just go away.”

'I’ve spent a lifetime waiting for you,' he had said, 'and I'd wait a thousand more.' You wrestle with the weight of his words, the weight of hers. You shake your head.

“I never told him, Karlach. I never got to say….”

The tears choke you. All at once, you cannot think, cannot speak. She takes your hand, and she does not let it go.  

“We'll fix me up, and then you can tell him. You can tell him everything.” 

**** 

“So you came back.”

His gaze darts away from you, his hands clasping and unclasping. He looks as nervous as you feel, stooping awkwardly to greet you like a half-stranger. But in the haze of candlelight, buoyed by the heavenly breeze of meat and mead and flowers, he glows. He is just as you remember him, a vision in purple and gold. Your every longing and memory made flesh.

“You look well.” He shuffles, a halting smile quivering on his lips. “A little singed around the edges, but well.”

You have never before felt self-conscious in his presence. But standing before him now, so close you could reach out and touch him, you are ashamed. You are embarrassed by your dented armour, your torn and dusty boots. Having just narrowly survived a group of cambions sent by Zariel, there had not been time for you and Karlach to primp and preen - not that the two of you ever wasted energy on that. You could not have leapt faster through the portal back to Faerun to answer Withers’ summons.

Appearances never mattered to Gale. He always saw through to the heart of a person, finding beauty in the alignment of a soul. It is one of the things you love most about him. But tonight, as the strange stiffness between you expands, you find yourself fretting over the bunching of your braids, your unpainted eyes, the fresh scars on your arms.

“So do you, Gale.”

Your voice is strained. Every muscle in your body yearns to spring forward, to talk to him with touch. But he stands apart, worlds away. Perhaps he is beyond your reach, after everything that has passed between you.

At the corner of your eye, Karlach throws her arms around Wyll’s neck with a squeal. You turn to watch as she lifts him up, twirling him around to a chorus of hoots and whistles. You grin and clap as they collapse into each other. You hear Gale chuckling behind you, that most soothing of sounds. 

When you turn back, there is a moment when you simply gaze at him. You notice the empty canvas of his chest, laid bare by the tantalising dip of his richly embroidered doublet. Freedom, plain and pure, radiates from the unmarred plane of his bronze-kissed skin.

You think of all the times you traced the mark of the orb with your fingers, your lips, your tongue, pressing your love into his wounds, covering them with the balm of your desire. Is it recognition that glimmers in his eyes as they meet yours? Yearning? 

He clears his throat. Perhaps not.

“I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Not sure where to begin.”

For months, you have imagined what you would say to him. All the doubts you would lay down, all the things you would confess. In the silence of your loneliest nights, you prayed and pleaded with Tyr for a second chance, promising, with a resolve as strong as your Oath of Devotion, that you would not waste it.

But now that he is here, words fail you. What you want, in this instant, is to listen. To hear the resonant song of his voice, the lilting passion of it. To soak in the gentle earth of his eyes, the gossamer lines of delight and wisdom that dance on his face. To bask in the miracle of him.

“Why don't you start at the beginning?” you ask.

He tilts his head. Then his jaw clenches, as though he is bracing himself.

“I promise I've not been moping around waiting for your return.” 

It jolts you, the hint of bitterness. You have hurt him, and maybe there can be no second chances after that. Perhaps you cannot make amends for who you truly are. 

But then his voice drops. His brow arches ever so slightly. There is the ghost of that sideways smile that has always driven you wild.

“Though of course I longed for it.”

It takes you a moment to register it. He longed for your return. Waited. Slowly, mercifully, he begins to tell you about his life at Blackstaff Academy. You savour the familiar enthusiasm that snowballs as he speaks, the lively flurry of his hands, a secret language in itself. When you learn that he is a Professor of Illusory Magic, hear him extol the manifold wonders of imagination and lament the ineptitude of his apprentices with wry affection, you grin so widely that your cheeks ache. 

You have always believed in Gale - his stout heart, girded with goodness, his keen mind, honed as the sharpest blade. It has always been your greatest hope for him - to see him content with the man he is, no longer shackled to a mirage of the man he should be. If this is the end of the road, if a stilted goodbye is all that lies between you now, it would be a torment. An agony you will carry with you for the rest of your days. But there is no doubt in your mind. You would suffer any pain for his peace. His happiness. 

It is like you are old friends when he asks about your time in Avernus. You tell him about the endless hoards of hunters trailing after you,  the running count of kills that Karlach insists on keeping (she is currently leading by three). He shares your disgust with what passes as food in the hells, your excitement about the blueprints you found. When you tell him about Zariel’s forge, where you and Karlach are heading to fix her heart, you can almost hear the gears turning in his mind as he furrows his brow. You explain that Karlach is making inroads with one of Zariel’s guards, an old acquaintance of hers who thrives on chaos. Now, it is just a matter of biding your time before you make a move. 

You are struck, again and again, by how much you have missed Gale’s laugh. The brightness of his discerning eyes. The plump arc of his lips curving into a grin. Lost pieces of yourself, restored for a fleeting night.

“I almost feel sorry for the devils in your path.” He smirks. “I mean, I don’t, of course. I’m sure they deserve it.” 

He leans forward. As the wind weaves through his hair, you catch the notes of leather, scrolls, and sandalwood. Home. You breathe deeply, storing up his scent. You do not ever want to forget it. 

“I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know?” 

Something reverberates inside you. Dimly, you recall the weariness in your parents’ eyes when you returned to their farm on your thirtieth birthday. “Not a Justiciar, no. Still just an ordinary Paladin.” When, a few steps down the dirt track on the day of your departure, you turned back to wave goodbye, they had already scurried back into the house. Relieved to see the back of you, to be done with yet another disappointment in the ceaseless toil of their lives.

But Gale looks at you with pride, a kind of awe. A hero, he says. Extraordinary, he once called you.

“I'll be delighted to introduce you to them when you return. That is, if you wish to return to Faerun. Or to me.”

There is a fullness in his gaze now. The brown flame that flares is unmistakable. It is a swollen, throbbing desire that roils through you, a desperate mirror of your want.

He waits. For all this time, he has waited. Standing together where it all began, surrounded by the symphony of those you cherish most, you see him so clearly. The depths of his devotion. The boundlessness of his love. His need and hunger, wrestling against his fear.

There is so much you want to tell him, so much of your soul you wish to lay bare. It is not too late, you realise. If you open yourself to him, he will embrace you, as though there is no past, no future. Only the endless horizon of the astral sea.  

“I want nothing more, Gale,” you whisper.

He heaves, a burst of relief, disbelief, elation. His whole body seems to vibrate, beaming with the bliss of a burden lifted, a mystery finally solved. The glorious end to a grueling journey, a terminus for which he has fought tooth and nail, trusting, against all odds, in a home where you would both come to rest. And when he steps forward, reaching out to you, you drift towards him like a star falling back to earth.

But then it seizes you. You stop in your tracks, bowled over by a compulsion to protect. An urge to throw yourself before him like a shield. This man, who has sacrificed and suffered for you. This marvel of a man, who deserves nothing less than the full measure of you. You cannot take away the victory he has won, against all odds, over the demons of his history. You cannot jeopardise the peace he has laboured so hard for. You could never forgive yourself.

You force yourself back.

“Zariel knows we're coming.” Your voice breaks. “She has an army guarding the forge.”

Gale’s features freeze in shock, the anticipation of pain. Your withdrawal is a blow. To hurt him so soon after hope - it is unbearable. But you must protect him. You cannot take the risk.

"We might not make it in. Or out. I don't want you to…I can't let you…”

He searches your face. You push out the words - a guttering plea, woefully inadequate.

“I might not make it back, Gale.”

There is a twisting in his face, a faltering as he considers you. Then his eyes widen, blazing with sudden understanding. He huffs, a gentle half-laugh, brimming with affection. It throws you, and when he speaks, his tenderness reminds you of all those nights when you lay beside him, wanting for nothing.

“Your caution is warranted. But believe me, I know enough about divination to promise you that our future is one worth looking forward to.”

You stare at him. Divination? Has he sought out your future, while he yearned for your return? Can it be that he has seen it, the two of you living as one, the answer to every prayer you feared to offer up to Tyr? Your breath hitches. 

“A crackling hearth. Two cosy armchairs beside it. A bottle of wine to be poured. And your battleworn boots, discarded at long last by the door. That is the life we have waiting for us. Believe in it, and it will come.”

You can almost see it. The fine veins of his forearm flickering as he turns a page. His moist lips tingling on your fingers as they trail through his beard. Beads of sweat like pearls, settling into the nook of his clavicle, shadowed in the firelight.

Desire takes you like a flood. You can no longer resist the tide of his resolve, the smouldering embrace of his certainty. All of your questions, all of your doubts, dissolve like mist as he strides towards you. 

His closeness is a spell. You are enthralled by the whisper of his hair against your temple, the caress of wine on his breath. The bold curve of his nose ghosts over yours, luring you closer. All at once, you are dizzy, falling into him. He draws back, teasing and playful, and when he laughs, you grab hold of him and crush your lips on his.

And then, all you can feel and smell and taste is him.

*****

He is stooped over his desk at the front of the lecture hall. Framed by intricate oak walls and animated portraits of Blackstaff legends, the fervent undulations of his cursive on the chalk board behind him, his beauty takes your breath away. His hair is longer now, lighter, adorned with gleaming clusters of white-grey. He is leaner, sharper at the edges, but somehow more solid. More true.

Squinting into a mass of scrolls, he is in a world of his own, muttering and gesturing to himself, a mixture of irritation, confusion, determination. Even from the back of the room, you can make out the wrinkle of his thinking line, that most endearing of expressions. You chuckle.

He barely glances up at the sound. He calls out with a practised weariness, a sternness that you have never heard before but instantly relish.

“If you're here for the lecture on the nature and use of simulacrums, you are disgracefully, appallingly late–”

He jerks his head, his gaze finally lifting towards you. When his eyes meet yours, he lets out a gasp that lurches through his shaking frame. And then he is sprinting, leaping through the rows of chairs, hurtling into you like a flaming comet.

Your bodies weave together, clutching, seeking, finding. His hot tears, his juddering breaths, the frenetic beating of his heart, echoing and melting into yours.

“You're back.” He cups your face, pressing his forehead to yours. “You came back.”

You lean into his touch, ravenous for more. All this time, believing you could not love him, doubting he could feel the same - now, all you want is to fill yourself with him. The musk of soap and bookdust, the taste of coffee and salt, the heat of his thrumming muscles flush against yours. You are dissolving into a flurry of kisses, each one more eager than the last, sealing your promise against his tear-streaked skin. You do not hold back. You will never hold back again.

“I love you, Gale,” you pant. “I've loved you since the day we met. I’ve spent a lifetime waiting for you, and I'd wait a thousand more.”

The awe and wonder in his eyes reflects your own. He is quivering, letting out tiny sighs of jubilation. As his fingers dance up your chest, your neck, the knots of your braids, you tremble under his touch, grinning at the certainty that you will never again go without it. 

“Where's Karlach?” he murmurs into your hair, as you run your nose over the stubble on his jawline, savouring the rough and smooth of him.

“She's headed for Baldur’s Gate to find Wyll. She’s promised to visit us as soon as they can.” You draw back. “That is, if you want me to stay here, with you.” 

He huffs, amused, incredulous. His fingers find yours. Time stands still as he raises your hand to his lips. When he plants a kiss along the scarred ridge of your knuckles, it has the passion and devotion of an oath.

“I want you to marry me,” he breathes.

You look at him for a long time. You will never tire of the sight. Yours is a love that will last a lifetime, a love greater than any legend or saga, stronger than any fairytale. This man, this miracle, forever yours, just as you are forever his. You have no doubts about it now.

Joy burns within you, a fire in your soul that will never fade.

You laugh, and you answer with a kiss. 

*********

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[bueckers2fudd]

fluff alphabet |clarisse la rue

author's note: Hi lovelies, please send me requests! I don't know what gave me the confidence to think I can write, probably delusion. Also, this is according to my personal views of Clarisse so don't be mad if it's different from what you've imagined. Leave a comment, I love interacting with people, xx.

warnings: I tried my best to keep it gender/race/cabin neutral for the most part but there are still some feminine coded things here and there. English is not my first language so excuse any grammar mistakes.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Starting off strong because with Clarisse sparring is a must. Although she doesn't like to think there will ever come a time in which she won't be there to protect you, it's still an essential part of life as a half-blood. And who better to train you than the daughter of war herself? And in case the apprentice becomes the master and you happen to beat her or pin her to the ground or even hold your dagger to her neck? Oh boy, she's done for. Actual heart eyes.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

She pretty much loves everything about you, she can't really just choose one aspect. Though, if she had to, she'd probably say she loves you for being supportive, understanding, and patient with her. You understand her better than anyone. That's what made her know you were the one for her. You can control her anger issues and calm her down when she's on the verge of exploding and she thinks that's beautiful.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc?

The art of intimacy or comfort never came easy to Clarisse. Her relationship with her mother isn't the best and hasn't been for a while now and her father is a grade A asshole. Her first instinct when you're feeling down is to fix it, to ask you who or what happened and give them a physical piece of her mind, but that's not always how it works. She'll pull you to her lap and hold you through the night or for as long as you need, wiping your tears and kissing your cheeks. She'll let you vent your heart out. You can tell her anything. Or nothing, if you prefer. She's not the best with words but her actions speak much louder.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

She's never thought that much ahead if she's being honest. Never allowed herself to daydream too much into the future, choosing to live off the present for now. Sometimes, however, she pictures what could be only described as an utopia; to go on such a fantastical quest that the gods can't help but grant the both of you immortality, that way you'd bask in the glory of your love forever and ever.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

On the outside looking in it would seem Clarisse is the dominant one for sure. And in some ways she is; she likes that you can rely on her, she wants to provide for you, yearns to prove herself capable of such. Still, you're the one in charge. Clarisse is completely devoted to you, and your relationship means more to her than anything she's ever felt before. She cherishes it like no other, always at your beck and call.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Clarisse is intense, that much we know. Her anger runs deep and her passion burns red. She's not perfect, and doesn't try to hide it either. She's hot-tempered, arrogant, she's got a short fuse and she holds grudges. Her fatal flaw is pride, which sometimes gets in the way of her good senses, so you'll most likely be the one apologizing first. Despite all that, she can't bear the thought of you being mad at her and absolutely hates fighting with you. It's like it's tearing her apart, especially if you're sad over something she said or did in the heat of the moment. Truth is, she is a fighter at heart so when all is said and done she'll try and make it up to you in some way, somehow.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

She is so appreciative of everything you do and are. As previously stated, Clarisse didn't get much love growing up so any semblance of that is something she clings hard to. She notices everything, every little thing you do for her and the underlying of your words. How you treat her and others is always stored in the back of her mind and she loves to be loved by you.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Clarisse is a very closed off person in general, she doesn't like feeling exposed and being possibly seen as weak. She'll tell you things but there's still some matters you have to pick up on your own and know how to approach them, especially regarding her feelings and personal struggles. She's very honest though, she feels like she owns you that much and appreciates you if you do the same for her. The more your relationship progresses you'll notice being able to read her like an open book because although she does her very best to hide it there's an underlying vulnerability to her behavior in certain moments you'll take proper notice of the more you know her.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Clarisse has definitely become more gentle since you. It still doesn't extend to your friends and family but more so how she behaves around you and knowing she doesn't have to put up that though front all the time. Her sense of self worth has improved as well, especially when you reassure her through her insecurities and doubts (never being the son her father wanted etc.)

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Oh, boy. Clarisse’s jealousy is very fuelled by… Well, anything really. She doesn't necessarily need a motive to go toe to toe with someone, just staring at you for a second longer than she deems them worthy of and she's ready for a fight. It's hard for anyone to get close enough to flirt with you because she's always there, by your side, kind of like a guard dog. But only because she knows how amazing you are and her insecurities do blurry some lines on what's acceptable. She's working on it though.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Clarisse is definitely a good kisser. She doesn't have much experience, if any, but she's a natural. It sounds cheesy but the first time she kisses you was like butterflies and church bells dancing loudly in the wind. The way she cups your face so uncharacteristically soft and how she breaks off the kiss with a series of small pecks only to smile one of her beautiful smiles so close to each other's faces… Magical. It could be at the fireworks on the fourth of July or it could be in your favorite spot in the woods, soaked in lake water during a midnight swim or after a heated argument. No matter how many times Clarisse kisses you, she'll never not feel electricity similar to her spear’s sharp edge digging into her body and soul.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Clarisse does not have a clue what she's doing. I feel like she'd say something in the heat of the moment; either confessing her true feelings or masking them by saying something hurtful she doesn't actually mean. In the latter scenario she'd storm off and berate herself over it but her pride and fear that you'd never look at her again made her put off her apology for some time and let it all sink in to talk to you when she's ready. That is until you start properly ignoring her and she nearly goes crazy with longing, just missing your overall presence and having her stomach turn to knots at the way things were left between you two. That's one of the few times Clarisse sucks it up and reaches for you. The apology is awkward but overwhelmingly honest and she tells you she's an idiot but you're content in forgiving her and giving her a second (actual first) chance.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Again, Clarisse never thought she'd live to see the day she'd actually have a marriage prospect. Her life just doesn't seem complete without you anymore and the moment she realizes that she's done for. It would probably be while you're laying in bed together, your head on her chest while you play with her fingers. Your eyes are heavy with sleep but hers are wide open, thinking. “Will you marry me?” said while staring into the distance and you probably think she's joking except Clarisse is not one to joke about that sort of thing. “Not now. But eventually.” and whether you ask if she's serious or just accept it right away, she'd look at you seriously for a beat and then tackle you into a bear hug, crushing you underneath her. She doesn't see the point in a big wedding, but if that's what you're into, she won't mind.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

She is not immune to babe or baby but would still like to keep some variety. Things like sunshine, gorgeous, angel or others (I'm looking at you, person who created the “mama/s” HC). She does like your name very much, or probably a shortened version of it. Don't expect her to not tease you if any of these make you flustered.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Clarisse likes to think she's good at hiding it when she's absolutely not. As Taylor Swift once said, you can hear it in the silence. Just the way her eyes soften when she's looking at you speaks millions, but people also get whiplash at how fast her mean attitude changes whenever you're around. Her love giving languages are probably acts of service and physical touch. She loves to do things for you, feeling all big and mighty whenever she can make your life just a little easier. Touching is also a must but we'll get to that in a second.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Clarisse is not very comfortable with public displays of affection, because she is afraid of being judged or mocked by others for being weak or soft. She prefers to keep her relationship with you private and intimate, but doesn't mind the little things. She does gloat about being with you as well as showing you off, so that everyone on camp knows you're hers. She brags about you all the time and I mean, seriously, all the time. She's not a big hand holder but she almost over compensates by grabbing at your hips and thighs, throwing an arm over your shoulder or hiding her face in your neck. She especially loves bonfires when you sit on her lap and she can hold firmly onto your waist while she's talking to her siblings or just press her forehead against yours when her social battery is low.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

She's very perceptive. She may not know what has changed right away but she's also persistent so she'll figure it out in an instant. If it's the way you did your hair or something that happened along your day, even if you change your usual greeting. She notices and she'll definitely ask you about it.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Clarisse wants to be loved, that's all she’s ever wanted, and she has so much love to give, therefore I believe she'll do just about anything to make you happy. That includes being an absolute sap. She honestly doesn't mind how cliche it is, if it works on you, you bet she's using it. If anyone cares to say anything remotely negative about you or your relationship she will promptly glare them into oblivion or give them something to really worry about.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

She is your absolute biggest supporter. Especially if you don't believe in yourself, then she's trying even harder for you to see just how well you can do something if you put your mind to it. With something like sword training she is more than willing to help you, rewarding you with kisses and cursing you for distracting her with your pretty face.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Clarisse doesn't mind change, she rolls with it. If you have a certain way of doing things, a routine you like to follow, that's fine by her. If you're unpredictable, even better. She just loves to see what comes next in terms of your relationship, not necessarily needing anything to amplify her love for you. It's already hardwired into her.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

She knows you like the back of her hand. Even the slightest furrow of your eyebrows or tilt of your head and she'll be there in a second asking what's wrong. She does learn to be more empathetic towards your own struggles, which was hard at first because she wasn't sure how to see things from someone else's point of view. Though road but you make it work.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

She doesn't have much to look forward to so Clarisse values her relationship with you very highly, as you are one of the few people who can see past her tough and aggressive exterior and appreciate her softer and more vulnerable side. She is fiercely loyal and protective of you, and would do anything to keep you safe and happy.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

I actually read this one on a Wattpad story a while ago so credit to the original creator but, Clarisse has a teddy bear named Mr. Muscles she's had since she was like, nine and she cherishes it like it's her most prized possession. When she introduced this piece of information to you, you just found her so incredibly adorable you couldn't contain the giggles and she gets so hot in the face she pushes you off her bed and it's honestly one of the most memorable moments in your relationship.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I headcanon Clarisse as your personal furnace as well as a koala bear so kisses and cuddles are a must, especially if it's cold outside. She loves to take naps with you, it gets to the point where she has trouble sleeping without you (so you give her a vial of your perfume to spray on Mr. Muscles for when you're away).

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Clarisse with you: 🥰

Clarisse without you: 😡

She gets snappier than usual and easily annoyed but she'll also get really sad because she's never had to deal with being away from you. Her siblings try to cheer her up by shoving some kid's head into the toilet but she's so disinterested in anything that does not involve you she just goes about her days training until she can see you again and show off her muscles.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

The answer is yes, one hundred percent. “Touch her and you die” trope goes so hard. Not only that but she would willingly sacrifice the world and herself for you and your relationship. She would go out of her way to make sure you are okay, that you are fed and hydrated and well rested, even messing up her own sleeping schedule in order to take better care of you.

[sepublic]

            Belos is white; Not just in terms of race, and yes race IS very much relevant in regards to his characterization. But also his coven is white. White is all colors combined, and as he himself puts it, the nine main covens branch off from it in nine hues. Even if their colors aren’t quite accurate to the ones that white light splits off into, you get the idea.

            Thus, I want to roll with the idea that the heads of these respective covens are also different facets of the emperor, refracted and localized. So combining a bit of analysis with headcanon (a good deal of which is demonstrated in my Lost Hoots fic), we have as follows:

            Adrian Graye Vernworth is a blue-eyed, backstabbing con artist with an overinflated sense of self-importance and hides a demonic form behind a white ‘human’ appearance; But in the end, he’s a mediocre dimwit who’s only occasionally clever, has no real leadership abilities, and hides behind others he makes miserable and takes credit from. He’s especially ridiculous in his need to one-up and murder a child of color. He wanted to be of a certain profession, and resents someone he murdered even to this day. Seeing another person from his past causes him to snap and react recklessly.

            Hettie Cutburn is a serial killer with a need for control, who reacts viciously to people who don’t accept or praise her attempts to take care of them, that are blatantly violent and insincere. She infantilizes herself with this persona that detracts from her true self; A fully grown, lucid, malicious adult who gets violent when she doesn’t get what she wants. A misogynyistic role is imposed on a teenager she strongarms under her ‘protective’ wing.

            Ulrich Mason is a religious man who espouses conservative values and is outright told he doesn’t represent his species as much as he might think. Mason hides a weapon behind his back when he feigns having changed his mind, to a family member who did; He reacted angrily to this news, attempting to save their soul. But despite his remorse at his betrayal, Mason still commits to his cause afterwards.

            Domovoy Osran claims to speak for the Titan in protecting everyone and has a lot of delusions, symbolizing Luz’s anxiety over fate. His messiah complex thinks this great deity is guiding him along, but the reality is that they would hate and disprove of him deeply. Osran is quite chill with using petrification and bastardizing the dead to misuse them, and possesses a ‘guiding’ relationship with Kikimora. But for all his feats and advantages, he’s not as clever as he thinks and relies on some things as a crutch; Particularly, this assumption that destiny has his victory guaranteed, when really it foretells a defeat by Luz. He comes across as a caring old man, but has quite the cruel, vicious side to him.

            Vitimir Vialvilla is entrenched in sunk-cost fallacy, having wasted his whole life on something that brought his body ruin that he easily could’ve avoided and was his own fault, and even embraced what consumption has done. But he stubbornly refuses to see the truth as he makes Luz doubt her own dreams via a false comparison he brings up. Vitimir sees a species as lesser fodder for his own glory, and will sacrifice anyone and everything to achieve his destructive dream, because everyone else is an unimportant idiot. He believes he deserves better just for ‘trying’ harder, when really he just crossed ethical lines.

            Terra Snapdragon is a smug green sadist who savors having control and influence over others, molding young minds as she sees fit. She gets uncomfortably close with Raine Whispers, and sees other people’s ethics as rules ruining her fun. Terra believes people who don’t like her are the real villains going after a misunderstood underdog, but the reality is quite simpler; She’s just a domineering, mean-spirited jerk whose outcast nature is all her fault.

            Eberwolf the Huntsman is a hunter who operates under the idea that their pruning of a population is necessary to keep the world balanced and healthy, while studying their quarry to better pull off this role. They have a symbiotic relationship with various little creatures habiting their body that they derive further power from. He’s a little brother, with an older brother would never dare hurt or sacrifice him, not even in the name of things more important like the isles, and thus this contributes to great danger for the Demon Realm.

            Darius Deamonne had to sacrifice something to achieve a goopy form covered in glowing eyes, and can form scythe-like appendages from it. Otherwise, he appears human, and is connected to the Grimwalker lineage. He lost someone he used to know and look up to, but now sees them in Hunter, who is younger and related to that loved one. He hopes to change what went wrong with Hunter’s predecessor in the child.

            Raine Whispers wields red magic and is a leader for the isles, seeking to change the demon realm for the greater good. As a result of this idea, they’ve had to not only mask their identity, but cross ethical lines in their mission, such as lying and even accepting the idea of killing people who don’t necessarily deserve it; These things have had their clear toll on them, but they continue, believing their ends to be justified. Though they may seem unimpressive at first, they’re actually a charismatic speaker who ends up redefining society, and represents the Titan.

[thewertsearch]

You reflect on your prior experience as the team's ectobiologist. It seemed like you were doing something so important at the time. Finally everything made sense. This was why you were here. But what was the point? You are all clearly going to die the most pointless deaths possible. [...] You are no ectobiologist. If only there was some other title more befitting of the true discipline you practice, and the death sentence given to whatever you do the disservice of creating.

Oh, I get it. Karkat's the CarcinoGeneticist, so his universe spawns a session with a tumor.

The Tumor was described as a mutation, so it might literally be a form of cosmic cancer. Perhaps Sburb sessions are part of their host universe's body, and the kids' frog has faulty cells.

And what about the OTHER twelve wigglers you spawned? Who were they? Probably further proof this was all meaningless and random. Could it be that they were the true heroes meant to be sent back to play this game, while your team was the superfluous crop?

That would be the ancestors, the troll Guardians that Eridan mentioned. It seems they might have an actual role in the story, especially if they really are the ancestors who were giving Aradia orders.

Sollux is up, but his glowing eyes are gone, presumably indicating that his psionics are offline. I was relying on him to turn the tide against the murderers, and losing his support is a pretty serious blow. Let's hope it's temporary.

EB: so… what about jack? […] EB: are you still planning on killing him? […] EB: it is much better than killing friends. AG: Yeah, you're right. AG: And to tell you the truth, part of the reason I wanted to kill him was to protect them. It's not just a8out glory you know.

I don't doubt it. It's always been apparent to me that Vriska does care about the people around her. The problem is, every time she tries to express that affection, it comes out in weird, fucked-up ways.

At best, she comes off as rude and confrontational.

At worst...

...let's not talk about it.

AG: 8ecause if I don't do it, then who will? EB: well, we have a plan to defeat him too, so there's that. AG: Yes, I know a8out your plan. AG: I guess two plans are 8etter than one, right?

Not always. In this case, I'd argue that a single collaborative plan would be better than two unworkable ones. If you don't rendezvous with Karkat soon, there's every chance that Gamzee will get to him before he's done helping Jade.

Then, once Jack's reduced you to atoms, we'll have zero plans.

[disco-archetypes]

VOLITION - I have bad news for you.

YOU - What?

VOLITION - You know these guys?

LOGIC - Who, me?

DRAMA - Yes, you. He's talking about you, you boring stiff.

VOLITION - You too.

DRAMA - Me? What did I do? I'm merely a master thespian...

VOLITION - These guys are compromised. She's got them singing along to her tune. The little bleeps and bloops you trust for info -- you can't trust them anymore.

YOU - Oh my god.

VOLITION - Believe it.

YOU - Which ones exactly are affected?

VOLITION - There's no way of knowing. At the moment I'm afraid it's best to assume...

VOLITION - ...*all* of them.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Bullshit, man, I ain't *compromised*.

VOLITION - *Especially* that guy. That guy's the most compromzised one in here.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - No fucking way, man, I just want a drag of that sweet Menthol ziggie.

VOLITION - Really? Quick, tell me what's under her jumpsuit?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - GLORY. TRUTH. SOFTNESS. PROTECT HER. SHE WANTS YOU.

VOLITION - I take it back. He's got it pretty bad, but this *next guy's* on another level entirely...

SUGGESTION - She likes you. The Crownhead is a boring condom. He's jealous. This is human nature.

[telewarp]

the thing about Solas Dragon Age is that he is an unreliable narrator. he lies. it is literally his thing, he points it out again and again, and real ass people STILL fall for his lies and propaganda again and again, even though he is literally A Well Known Liar

solas in inquisition does not view modern elves as "people". he doesn't view any modern day race as "people", this is something you can learn from cole, who has a unique insight into his head. solas pulls away from a romanced lavellan in inquisition specifically because SHE IS STARTING TO MAKE HIM VIEW MODERN DAY PEOPLE AS ACTUAL PEOPLE and he doesn't want that, because if he views them as people, he won't be able to pull down the veil. his "i had plans to minimize casualties" is a stretch of the truth at best and an outright lie at worst in veilguard. you are given no reason to believe him and every reason to understand that he is likely lying, again, as he always has, in order to justify his actions. he murdered the two people closest to him because they made him waver, wanted him to see there is beauty worgh protecting in this age, too, and i think lavellan is DAMN lucky he didn't get a chance to do anything worse than take her hand.

solas. is. a liar. he is a spirit twisted from his purpose, wisdom become pride, but his actions are his and his alone. he lies to felassan, he lies to the inquisitor, he lies to varric, he lies to rook. you HAVE to take everything he says with a grain of salt. mythal was the person he loved most and had the most history with and he still betrayed her, and locked up what remained of her within the fade. he is unreliable and twists his words to suit his purpose.

when he says he wants to save the elves, to return them to their former glory, he is likely not talking about modern day elves. he doesn't view them as "his people". not anymore. they're broken and need to be fixed. solas is a liar. he knows exactly who he is trying to save, and it is not anyone who exists within this modern world.

[black-suns-rim]

Valley Family Portrait (Ethereal star AU)

Before the twins were the elders of their realm, their mother, the Priestess, was it's elder. Her children were kept a secret from the valley and the other realms until her passing...

bonus art and short story under the cut:

In the valley light temple “Mother warned us about you…” Mek sneered.

“Did she now?” The king stood behind the two siblings as they were kneeling at an alter, “Well, the priestess was never fond of me… so it’s not surprising.”

“You know you’re not welcomed here. You may be a king, but you’re not our king.” Sah stood up to face Resh, but he didn’t realize just how massive the king was, “you should leave.” Sah tried to sound threatening.

“May I offer my condolences before I leave?” He gestured to the alter the twins had been grieving at. They both hesitated before nodding. The King kneeled down in front of the priestess’s alter, pulling out a white candle. He lit it with his light magic and placed it in front of the alter. He bowed his head as he uttered a prayer. The twins could only hear parts of the prayer. Once he was done, he turned his attention to the siblings.

“Though she may not have liked me, I admired her and her teachings. I know she believed that I was getting rid of our traditions with my advances, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. We both shared the same goal you see, but it’s my methods she just didn’t approve… when I heard of her passing, I knew I had to visit her alter, though I knew I wouldn’t be welcomed here.” He spoke quietly in a soft tone.

The twins couldn’t help but listen as he spoke, “I also wanted to offer the both of you what I had offered your mother many years ago. That is if you’re willing to listen to what I have to offer.”

The two sat in silence and looked at each other, then to the king. They were curious but at the same time, they were slightly offended he had brought this up here. They whispered to each other for a while before agreeing on something.

“We’ll listen to what you have to say, but if we don’t like it, you can’t ever come back here.” Mek turned to face Resh.

“Understandable.” The king stood up, “What if I could offer your realm advanced medicines, technology and knowledge gathered from the other realms? In return, your realm becomes a part of my kingdom and you’ll have my protection. You’ll still have a say over your realm, but I’ll have the final word.”

The siblings whispered to each other, “exactly what kind of advanced medicines would you be able to offer?” Sah asked.

“Remedies that would heal illnesses, surgeries that can save a life, or improve one and much more.” He paused, “I could even offer a surgery that would give you and your sister a second arm…”

The two of them stared at Resh In disbelief. They were wearing cloaks, so there could be no way he would’ve seen… “How did you know…?” Samekh both were standing now.

“It would be rude of me not to come here without knowing who I was talking to… though it was hard finding anything out about you two. Your mother kept you two well hidden from the public, did she? But it was only to protect you, wasn’t it?”

Before they could have a chance to respond, he continued, “I heard you two love to play sports. I could offer you a chance to get the recognition you deserved. Champions of the arts. My champions even..." he paused and placed a hand on their shoulders, "Imagine a stadium full of your fans, cheering you on. The glory, the fame, the honor... All of this only if you accept to become a part of my kingdom.”

Samekh felt excited by his offers. They whispered with each other for a long time before asking him many questions. The more answers they got from the king, the more they felt excited.

“So, do you accept my offer?”

“Yes. We do.” Samekh was quick to answer.

Resh grinned under his mask, “Wonderful!” He gestured over one of his advisers who had been standing far back. They handed him a stone tablet, “I need both of your signatures for this agreement.” They were quick to sign, not bothering to read what was written on the stone.

“Next week, I’m having a meeting with all the realm leaders. You two will be sent an invitation on the location and time. We can discuss and plan further what changes will happen in your realm. We can also discuss your personal matters afterwards. For now, I’ll leave you two with these.” He handed them a couple of stone tablets with information on them pertaining specifics of what he’d mentioned.

“Welcome to the kingdom.”

[rachelbethhines]

10 Ways to Fix Cassandra's Arc

From Closest to Canon to Complete Re-Write

Cassandra Wants to be the Hero - It's literally all set up right there in the text. Cass doesn't think Rapunzel is mature enough to solve the problem of the rocks, and therefore she steals the moonstone in order to stop them herself. Only to find she can't control the rocks/moonstone either. Of course this route would require the rocks remaining an active threat throughout season two and the narrative being willing to call out both Rapunzel's and Cassandra's toxic traits.

Make Cassandra's Injury Relevant - In the original show Cassandra's burnt hand is all but forgotten by season three and barely has any real impact on her during season two. Just make the injury an actual problem that she can't overcome through simple training, or since it's magic, make it a curse that could slowly kill her over time. Now the moonstone becomes a 'cure' with a high price to pay for using it. Simple.

Have Zhan Tiri Actually Lie - Zhan Tiri's 'manipulation' in the series proper is a whole lot of nothing because she just tells the truth, which the audience is suppose to take at face value, and doesn't really offer anything to Cassandra that she would logically want. Have her lie about Gothel. Have her present half-truths about the royals. Have her promise something of actual worth to Cass, like fixing her hand or making her the hero.

Have Cassandra Agree with the Other Villains - Forget Zhan Tiri altogether and have Cassandra team up with Varian and/or Lady Caine. Have her come to realize that Corona's government is flawed and not the right and just system she was raised to believe in. Of course this requires criticizing King Frederic and Corona's class system.

Have Cassandra Save Rapunzel While Hiding Her Past - Keep the Gothel twist, but make Cassandra ashamed of it. She's not after mommy's love, but she is trying to prevent Rapunzel from dying by trying to fuse with the moonstone. So what if the world burns? Her sister is safe. Besides, she can keep the moonstone under control... right?

Possessed Cassandra - I think this was the original plan until the last minute re-writes with Varian. But have either the moonstone or Zhan Tiri brainwash Cass and force her to do their bidding. This does take agency away from her but makes her less culpable of her actions. That's why everyone is insistent on 'saving her'.

Make Cassandra and Rapunzel Actual Sisters - Instead of being adopted by Cap, have Cassandra be adopted by the royals. Have her be the child trained to be queen someday all her life, only to have Rapunzel thrust into that position due to birthright despite not really wanting it. Now suddenly all of their pissing contests with each other makes sense. Cassandra may or may not really want to be queen, but she feels she's being replaced by this sister shes never known. Now throw in the Gothel twist and things get even more complicated.

Cassandra is the True Heir to the Dark Kingdom - It's now Cass's duty to protect the moonstone from Rapunzel. It's her heritage and birthright to wear it. You can either keep Eugene as her brother, or drop that aspect of his arc altogether.

Saporian Cassandra - Somewhat playing into Cass's 'wants to be a hero' aspect, only her motives are now about calling out the injustice that Corona's royalty has inflicted on her people. Of course this requires criticizing King Frederic and Corona's class system.

Don't Make Cassandra the Villain At All - Don't have her steal the moonstone. Don't have her betray Rapunzel. Don't try to force them to be 'sisters'. Let her just be the cool best friend that remains by Raps side and finds her own self-worth through service to others instead of seeking glory and praise all the time.

[theanoninyourinbox]

How about darkrai and cresselia?

One of the tales that Mudeyes tells Armadillokit, Bearkit, Noisykit, and Fangkit, that gave Bearkit nightmares and made Fangkit the determination to become a great cat, no matter if leader or not.

Many moons ago, two cats came to the Clans - Dark and Crescent. Dark was a strong, ruthless cat, who wanted nothing more than to be powerful, so was chosen to be a warrior, Darknight. Crescent was a tall, mysterious cat who wanted to protect others, but was weak in body and was chosen to be a healer, Crescentmoon. Their days in the clans changed them. Darknight learned the value of teamwork, of friendship and camaraderie, and became a kinder cat, well respected and feared by his enemies, and looked up to by his peers. Crescentmoon, however, was disillusioned with her role, and hated having to treat the elderly and young, and sort herbs while others gained glory.

One day, Crescentmoon saved a kit from choking, and was praised by all the clan. This gave her the glory she craved, that she thought could only come from being a warrior. And when the praise ceased, she became needy and depressed, and when a warrior came to her for treatment, she plotted. The warrior's wound became infected suddenly, and only Crescentmoon's actions saved him. For Crescentmoon had poisoned his wound - and she continued to do so, even killing some elders so she might gain sympathy. But the spirits of the dead rose up, and became a whirling mass of pain and hatred.

The Wailing Spirits attacked the healers at their gathering, and Darknight, chosen to guard the event, whirled into action. He organized the warriors into groups, and they all fought the Spirits until the Seers arrived to cleanse them of their pain. They pleaded with Darknight to avenge them, and he finally recognized the Spirits as the patients of Crescentmoon. He broke from the warriors, and dragged Crescentmoon to the Spirits, and the took the both of them into their swirling mass. The Seers finally arrived, and sent the dead along their paths - revealing Darknight, battered and bleeding, and Crescentmoon, dead of countless wounds.

With the truth revealed, Darknight was praised for his bravery, intelligence, and steady spirit, and in the days that passed, he became deputy, then leader. Darkstar was always troubled by Crescentmoon's actions and death, however, and made great changes to the laws of the clans - a cat would not be forced into a role, and only forced to retire if they were in danger of hurting themselves. All cats who could help others in their times of mental need were summoned, and mental health was added to the duties of Healers and Seers and Warriors alike. And, on the advice of the Seers, any cat who saw Crescentmoon in their dreams was to be ritually cleansed, for her murders, rage at her death, and her rampant desire for fame and acclaim drew her to the worst paths of death. On the passing of Darkstar, his spirit became a guardian of dreams, and he would wake any of her attempted victims with a fearful shock.

So if you see a beautiful golden and blue cat calling to you, saying she can make you powerful, run! And if she pursues, call to the shadows, and a great tortoiseshell cat will appear, waking you with a BOO!

[the-bravest-gingerbread]

hey how would the ancient cookies react if a cookie gave you a gun hypothetical

“A gun? That’s… a heavy thing to hold, you know? I’m not really the type to use something so dangerous, even if it was given to me. I mean, I’m used to facing danger—big monsters, Dark Enchantress’s minions, and all that—but a gun? That’s different. It’s not just about bravery; it’s about responsibility. Something I don’t take lightly.”

“I’d probably want to understand why they gave it to me first. Like… what’s the point? I don’t want to fight Cookies or hurt anyone if I can avoid it. My job is to protect, not to bring more pain.”

But the ancients…?

Pure Vanilla Cookie would approach this with calm and wisdom. He’d gently take the gun from me, his expression serious but kind. He’d remind me that true strength is about protecting others and seeking truth—not destruction.

He’d probably say something like, ‘GingerBrave, it is important to hold fast to your ideals, but also to understand the weight of the tools you carry. A weapon like this is a burden—one that changes the truth of what it means to be a protector.’

And then he’d probably quietly store it away, making sure it couldn’t be misused, while silently hoping that peace could be the answer instead.

Dark Cacao Cookie would immediately narrow his eyes and tense up. He’s not one for words when it comes to threats.

Without a doubt, he’d snatch the gun away with a firm grip, like he’s ready to snap it in two if he had to protect his kingdom. His voice would be low and commanding, ‘Such weapons are not to be trusted in careless hands. They bring destruction, not resolution.’

Though he rarely shows it openly, I know he’d be scared deep down—scared of what could happen if that weapon fell into the wrong paws. He’d keep a close watch, his resolve to protect stronger than ever.

Hollyberry Cookie would probably laugh with a spark in her eyes—half excitement, half challenge.

She’d see it as an opportunity for training, maybe even a test. ‘Well then, Ginger, if you must have it, you’d better learn how to wield it properly!’ She’d be ready to spar or put me through some wild drills, not because she loves fighting, but because she wants to make sure I can protect the ones I care about without losing myself.

But underneath her fiery spirit, I’d know she worries about what could happen if the balance tips.

Golden Cheese Cookie would give me a dazzling smile and probably try to make a trade out of it. She’d say something like, ‘A fine weapon for a fine Cookie! But is a gun worth more than gold?’ Then she’d scheme to turn it into something that could benefit her kingdom’s prosperity—or at least her own glory.

Despite her grandeur and pride, I know she’d keep it safe because, beneath it all, she treasures her people more than any treasure.

White Lily Cookie would appear quietly, her eyes wide with concern.

She’d ask gentle, searching questions: ‘Who gave this to you? Why?’ Her soft voice would carry the weight of her endless curiosity, but also the sorrow of knowing that some knowledge and power come at a terrible price.

She’d probably be the one to carefully examine the gun, trying to understand its nature—not just as a weapon, but what it means for freedom and safety.

And I’d sense the burden she carries—knowing that sometimes, even the brightest intentions lead to dark outcomes.

So, what would I do?

“I’d be honest: I’d want to refuse it. Because the courage I want to show is the courage to protect, not destroy. And I’d hope the Ancients remind me that there are always other ways to fight—ways that don’t make the world darker.”

I’m not just brave for me—I’m brave for everyone who can’t fight. So, no guns. Just hope, friends, and standing together.