#companion romances musings

[girlmadeofclockwork]

I do find the, well maybe not historical revisionism, but perhaps profoundly misremembering and or just changes in tastes that has gone down when it comes to Zevran and dragon age: origins to be quite interesting, like now that he’s very openly being compared to the newest hotness of Astarion, people talk about him as if he is/was the most popular because people love broody elves (even though Zev is the farthest from broody in his demeanor, and which kinda go hand in hand with people comparing him to Fenris, which isn’t new mind mind you, but it was fucking rare I saw anyone make that comparison 9 years ago) but I was there mind you, I was there 8-9 years ago. I remember clearly Zevran being the least popular romance option in origins when it came to the fandom.

[princeofhags]

frankly bullshit that rt doesn’t let me frick peepaw or cyborg priest

[twistedappletree]

akdbajbsjabsjaj 🖤🩶🤍💜

[spiderwarden]

@infernaliscor

"Better let these fuckers know I'm back. And this time, I'm not alone." 🔥

[crownshattered]

|| Funny story, I'd be willing to ship Neth with pretty much any of the origin companions, but I wanted to ship her with Wyll in my first playthrough....but there was such little content for him that i almost bailed and went with whoever approached her first bc i was getting bored waiting...

[immobiliter]

i would just like everyone to know that i would die for qwydion

[deliciousangelfestival]

Bad Romance

Character: Lloyd Hansen x Ex-wife!Reader

Summary: On his dying breath, he made a choice: to seek refuge in the one place he still considered safe—his ex-wife's house.

Words Count: 4,089

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

As the raindrops pelted his face, each impact weighed down his eyelids, making them droop with exhaustion. With a muttered curse escaping his lips, he grumbled, "Fuck."

Tonight, he faced multiple betrayals, each cutting deeper than the last. His best friend, boss, team, agency—all had turned their backs on him, sacrificing him like a pawn in a game he no longer understood.

And for what? For all he had sacrificed and given, this was the thanks he received.

Dragging his feet through the sodden ground, he felt the weight of his exhaustion and pain bearing down on him like a leaden anchor. His body screamed for respite, for release from the torment that plagued him. But still, he pressed on, his gaze fixed on the faint light in the distance, a beacon of hope in the midst of the darkness.

His body language betrayed his struggle, his shoulders slumped with weariness, his movements labored and unsteady. Yet, he refused to yield to the darkness that threatened to consume him. He pushed forward with every ounce of determination, driven by a stubborn resilience that refused to be extinguished.

But as the rain continued to fall and the pain in his wound intensified, a chilling thought invaded his mind. "Is this how it ends? Alone, in the cold and the dark?" Finally, his strength gave out, his body surrendering to the inevitable embrace of unconsciousness.

🌅

As he slowly blinked open his eyes, he was greeted by a sudden burst of brightness, the sun's rays piercing through the whiteness that surrounded him. "Am I in heaven?" he murmured, his voice barely audible amidst the surreal scene.

His confusion deepened as he felt something wet against his hand. "What-" His words trailed off as he glanced down, his eyes widening in shock at the sight before him.

There, by his side, was a shepherd dog, its tail wagging eagerly as it gazed up at him with a warm, friendly smile. "I guess it's true, dogs go to heaven," he mused softly, his disbelief mingling with a flicker of amusement.

"Woof," the dog barked cheerfully, before bounding onto the bed beside him, its tongue lolling out as it showered him with affectionate licks. "Stop," he protested weakly, though a smile tugged at the corners of his lips despite himself.

Lloyd had never been particularly fond of dogs, but there was something about this canine companion that stirred a long-forgotten warmth within him. Memories of a puppy he once cared for flooded his mind, though it had been years since he had last thought of it.

Running his fingers through the dog's fur, he couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance it bore to that cherished pet from his past.

"You look like someone I knew," he murmured softly, a pang of nostalgia tugging at his heartstrings as he allowed himself to be comforted by the presence of his unexpected companion.

"He would be saddened if he understood what you just said. Don't you remember Choco?"

Lloyd's heart skipped a beat as her voice pierced the air, drawing his attention away from the dog and towards the source of the sound. Slowly, he turned around, and there she stood — the woman with whom he had once shared a lifetime.

His ex-wife.

You stood before him, holding a tray of food, your expression unreadable. Despite the years that had passed since he last laid eyes on you, you seemed unchanged. There was no trace of worry in your demeanor, only a cool detachment that sent a shiver down his spine.

Even now, after four long years since the finalization of their divorce, you remained a constant presence in his life, a reminder of all that he had lost. The years had not softened your gaze or dulled the edge of your resentment.

As he met your gaze, there was no warmth, no flicker of recognition in your eyes. Only a steely resolve that spoke volumes of the lingering animosity between them. At that moment, he realized that despite the passage of time, some wounds never truly healed.

Lloyd's voice broke the silence, filled with a hint of nostalgia and warmth. "It's really nice to see you, sunshine."

You responded with a dismissive "Hmph," setting down the tray of food and medicine beside him. As you observed him lying on the bed, a surge of conflicting emotions washed over you.

Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine having him back in your life, especially in such a vulnerable state. Four years ago, you had scrubbed every trace of him from your existence, convinced that you were better off without him.

But fate had a cruel way of intervening. Just last week, Choco's persistent barking had led you to investigate, eventually guiding you to the sight of your ex-husband sprawled in the mud, wounded and on the brink of death.

The sight had shocked you to the core, dredging up memories of the tumultuous past you had shared. His dangerous job, the reason you had chosen to walk away from him, now seemed to loom over you like a grim specter.

Seeing him alive, breathing, and smiling with that smug expression plastered across his face, you couldn't help but question yourself. Why did you save him? As you tended to his wounds, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions raged within you.

You couldn't help but let out a sarcastic remark, your tone laced with equal parts irritation and concern. "With who this time did you make trouble?"

Lloyd's reaction was immediate, his expression caught off guard by your directness. This was the woman he remembered, the one who could simultaneously infuriate and enthrall him. "A lot of people, pumpkin," he replied casually, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes at his response, unable to suppress a wry smile. "Always a troublemaker," you muttered under your breath, the familiarity of the exchange bringing a sense of deja vu.

"Yup. That's why you like me," Lloyd quipped back, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he attempted to lighten the mood.

You didn't dignify his remark with a response, instead choosing to focus on examining his wound. Gently raising his arm, you inspected the injury with practiced care, noting the signs of improvement with a sense of relief. "No more infection," you announced, your voice tinged with a hint of satisfaction.

As you continued your examination, Lloyd couldn't resist interjecting with a hint of pride in his voice. "Did you notice I've gained more muscles?"

You couldn't deny the subtle changes in his physique, resulting from his relentless pursuit of his dangerous profession. But you refused to acknowledge it aloud, knowing that it would only inflate his already sizable ego.

"How did you find out my place?" you questioned, a mix of curiosity and wariness in your voice.

Lloyd met your gaze squarely, his expression unapologetic. "I always check on you. Just in case," he replied casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

After the divorce, he had never truly let you out of his sight, a fact that both unsettled and infuriated you. It was as if he couldn't bear the thought of you moving on without him, even though your relationship had long since run its course.

But for Lloyd, the idea of you being with someone else was intolerable. He couldn't stomach the thought of you in another man's arms, couldn't bear the thought of someone else laying claim to what had once been his.

And so, he took matters into his own hands, using underhanded tactics to sabotage any potential suitors that crossed your path. From slashing tires to sabotaging work projects, he left no stone unturned in ensuring you remained single.

The mere thought of you with another man made him sick to his stomach, a bitter taste rising in his throat. But despite his best efforts to keep you all to himself, he knew deep down that he couldn't control your heart.

And yet, he couldn't help but cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, you would come back to him in the end.

As Lloyd found himself teetering on the brink of death, his world collapsing around him, he felt a desperate longing for safety and solace. Betrayed by his team, abandoned by his friends, and hunted by the very agency he once served, he was left with nowhere to turn.

With each labored step, he struggled to keep moving forward, to escape the clutches of death that threatened to consume him. But amidst the chaos and despair, a flicker of recognition sparked within his subconscious, guiding him towards a beacon of hope in the darkness.

And then, as if by some miracle, he remembered you. Your address, your home—the one place where he knew he could find refuge, if only for a fleeting moment.

Driven by a primal instinct for survival, his body moved of its own accord, drawing him inexorably towards your doorstep. With each passing moment, the distance between them narrowed, until finally, he stood before your door, battered and broken but alive.

At that moment, as he reached for salvation, he clung to the faint hope that you would offer him sanctuary from the storm that raged within and without. For in the depths of his despair, he knew that he could find the peace and redemption he so desperately sought in your arms.

You let out a sigh, the weight of Lloyd's words sinking in. "Does that mean they knew about me?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of concern.

Lloyd shook his head firmly, his gaze unwavering. "No. I made sure nobody knew about you," he reassured you, his tone laced with conviction.

"Good," you responded with a nod, a sense of relief washing over you at his words.

You clapped your hands softly, calling Choco who still lay his head on Lloyd's lap. The loyal dog obediently jumped from the bed to be beside you, his presence a comforting presence in the room.

Lloyd's gaze shifted to the dog, who had grown significantly since the last time he saw him. "He's bigger," he remarked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Staying out of town suits him," you replied, a faint smile playing at the corners of your lips as you remembered the countless arguments you and Lloyd had over the city life.

Lloyd nodded in understanding, a pang of guilt tugging at his conscience as he recalled the sacrifices you had made for him in the past.

You stood up, determination etched on your face. "I need to buy more medicine for you," you declared, your voice firm despite the underlying concern.

"Alright. And I'll be waiting for you," Lloyd replied, his tone filled with gratitude.

Before you left the room, you turned to him with a sense of urgency. "Your gun. It's inside the nightstand," you instructed, your words carrying a weight of responsibility.

Lloyd's eyes widened in surprise as he slowly maneuvered his body, wincing with each movement. With cautious hands, he opened the nightstand and discovered his gun, meticulously cleaned and reloaded, lying within.

In that moment, as he gazed at the weapon before him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of conflicting emotions. Despite the animosity that had defined their relationship, he couldn't deny the underlying care and concern that you still held for him.

And as you left the room, he couldn't help but wonder how someone could simultaneously hate and care for him so deeply. It was a paradox that he would never fully understand but one that he couldn't help but be grateful for in his darkest hour.

As Lloyd lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, a sense of profound gratitude washed over him. Despite the perilous path he had tread, he couldn't help but feel incredibly fortunate to be alive, to have been granted a second chance at life, and to have crossed paths with you once again.

In that fleeting moment of introspection, he couldn't help but wonder about the path not taken.

What if the two of you hadn't parted ways?

Would he have found solace and happiness in your embrace, surrounded by the warmth of your love and the companionship of Choco?

The thought lingered in his mind, a bittersweet reminder of his choices and the consequences that had ensued.

Perhaps things would have been different in another reality or in another lifetime. Perhaps he would have found the peace and contentment he desperately sought in your arms.

But as the painkiller coursed through his veins, enveloping him in a blanket of warmth and drowsiness. Exhausted, he succumbed to the pull of sleep once more.

🗡️

Lloyd stirred from his slumber, awakened not by pain but by the gnawing ache of hunger that clawed at his stomach. Slowly, he sat up, testing the limits of his body and finding that the pain had subsided to a dull ache.

With cautious movements, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing slightly as he eased himself into a sitting position. Gradually, he rose to his feet, testing his weight on unsteady legs until he found his balance.

As he ventured out of the room, his gaze wandered around the house, taking in the familiar furnishings and décor that adorned the space. It felt strangely comforting, like stepping into a memory from his past.

His eyes drifted to the photographs that adorned the walls, capturing moments of joy and laughter frozen in time. Each image seemed to tell a story, a testament to the life you had built for yourself after leaving him behind.

With a heavy sigh, he questioned the purpose of his existence and the futility of clinging to a past that no longer held any promise. What was the benefit of wallowing in self-pity, of longing for a life that could never be reclaimed?

As Lloyd made his way to the kitchen, he was greeted by a home-cooked meal waiting for him, prepared with care and accompanied by a note instructing him to simply microwave it.

When was the last time someone had gone to such lengths to provide him with a warm, comforting meal?

The question lingered in his mind as he heated the food and began to eat, savoring each bite as if it were a taste of long-forgotten bliss.

After finishing the last bite of food, Lloyd washed it down with a sip of water, his expression shifting from relaxed to serious as he surveyed the now-empty plates before him.

"At least you let me eat first," he murmured under his breath, a hint of resignation in his voice.

'Click.'

The sound of the gun echoed throughout the house, piercing the stillness of the moment. In the reflection of the fridge, Lloyd caught sight of Carmichael and Susan, their guns trained on him with steely determination.

With a wry smirk, Lloyd raised his hands in surrender, his gaze steady as he met their accusing stares.

"Really? You still have the confidence?" Susan's voice dripped with disdain, her finger twitching on the trigger.

Carmichael's voice was cold and calculating as he spoke, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Of all places, you choose to hide here?"

Lloyd's casual shrug belied the tension that hung in the air as Susan's voice cut through the silence once more. "You need to come with us," she demanded, her tone clipped and authoritative.

Lloyd's response was equally defiant. "What if I don't want to?" he challenged, his gaze locking with Carmichael's as he awaited their next move.

Carmichael's response was swift and to the point. "You have no backup," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Lloyd's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the revelation. "Really?" he quipped, a hint of skepticism.

Unable to contain her frustration any longer, Susan lashed out at Lloyd, her voice dripping with venom. "I'm going to laugh when you rot in jail—"

But before she could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by a sudden gust of wind that sliced through her left ear, followed by a searing pain that engulfed her cheeks and ears.

"Fuck," she cursed, her hand instinctively flying to her injured ear as she recoiled from the unexpected assault.

As Susan dropped to the ground, the suddenness of her descent caught everyone off guard. Carmichael's attention snapped to the shattered window, his instincts kicking in as he processed the situation instantly.

"A sniper," he concluded, his voice tense with urgency as he scanned the perimeter for any signs of danger.

Susan, still reeling from the shock of the attack, struggled to comprehend what had just transpired. "But how?" she gasped, her voice tinged with disbelief as she tried to make sense of the chaos around them.

Lloyd's smirk widened as he watched the realization dawn on Susan and Carmichael's faces. "Don't underestimate the owner of this house," he cautioned, his gaze flicking towards the framed photos on the wall.

Susan and Carmichael's eyes fell upon a woman adorned with a gold medal, the insignia of an Olympic shooting competition adorning the frame.

"Shit," they both muttered simultaneously, a sense of dread settling over them as they realized the gravity of their situation.

Carmichael turned to Lloyd, his disbelief palpable. "Her? You and her? Impossible," he exclaimed, his voice tinged with shock and skepticism.

But Lloyd's smirk remained, a silent testament to the unexpected ally that had come to his aid in his moment of need.

The contrast between you and Lloyd couldn't have been more stark, yet fate had a curious way of bringing opposites together. While you had earned your place at Harvard through your exceptional skill in shooting, Lloyd's prowess on the football field had secured his admission.

In the law class, the tension between you two was palpable, your conflicting personalities clashing like water and fire. Your debates were heated, your arguments fierce, yet beneath the surface, there lingered a begrudging respect for each other's abilities.

Despite the animosity that simmered between you, there was an unspoken understanding that if one of you needed help, the other would be there to lend a hand. It was a reluctant partnership born out of necessity, fueled by a mutual desire to succeed in a cutthroat environment.

As the years passed, the animosity softened into something resembling camaraderie, a grudging acknowledgment of the role you each played in the other's life.

In the end, despite your differences, you and Lloyd were bound together by a shared journey that neither of you could have predicted.

Lloyd raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his words laced with a mix of astonishment and resignation. "We're divorced, but still she cares for me," he remarked, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone.

'Bang.'

Another bullet pierced the air, embedding itself in the sofa with a resounding thud.

"Shit. She's going to blame me for this," Lloyd muttered under his breath, his expression clouded with frustration.

Susan's regret swelled within her, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach as she realized the gravity of their oversight. "Just kill him," she spat out, her voice tinged with desperation.

But Carmichael's voice cut through the chaos, his words ringing with authority. "No, the order is to bring him in alive," he declared, his tone unwavering in its resolve.

Lloyd, caught in the crossfire of their conflicting agendas, couldn't help but interject with a hint of sarcasm. "Stop fighting over me. I prefer to stay here," he quipped, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips despite the gravity of the situation.

Susan's hand trembled as she pointed the gun at Lloyd's forehead, her eyes blazing with a vengeful fury. "I've been waiting for this," she seethed, her voice laced with venom. "This time I'll blow your head off."

But before Susan could carry out her threat, she was overcome by a searing pain that radiated through her hand, causing her to cry out in agony.

'Bang.'

Another shot rang out, the bullet tearing through Susan's hand with brutal force, eliciting a guttural scream of pain from her lips.

As the smoke cleared, you appeared before them, armed and prepared, your presence commanding and formidable. Carmichael and Susan paled at the sight of you, realizing with dawning horror that they were outmatched and outgunned.

"You bring unnecessary problems, Lloyd," you stated coolly, your voice hinting at disappointment.

With guns and spare bullets adorning your body, you stood as a formidable barrier between them and your ex-husband, ready to protect him at any cost.

With a steely resolve, you stepped forward, your gaze unwavering as you assessed the situation before you. Despite the chaos and tension that hung in the air, you remained calm and composed, your mind calculating the best course of action to diffuse the volatile situation.

"Susan, Carmichael," you began, your voice firm but measured, "you have overstayed your welcome. It's time for you to leave."

Susan's hand throbbed with pain, her grip on the gun loosening as she recoiled from the intensity of the burn. Carmichael's expression was shock and disbelief, realizing their attempt to apprehend Lloyd had backfired spectacularly.

But you weren't interested in vengeance or retribution. Instead, you sought a peaceful resolution, one that would ensure the safety of everyone involved.

With a swift and decisive motion, you disarmed Susan and Carmichael, carefully removing their weapons and rendering them harmless. Despite their protests and threats, you remained steadfast, refusing to be swayed by their desperate pleas.

You held their gaze steadily, your voice unwavering as you addressed Susan and Carmichael. "I'm sure neither of you wants to die today. Just as I don't want Lloyd to die," you asserted, your tone firm but not without empathy.

Susan's eyes widened in realization, the gravity of the situation sinking in as she glanced between you and Lloyd. Carmichael's expression hardened, his jaw clenched in silent acknowledgment of the truth in your words.

Lloyd's smirk widened into a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he caught your subtle reference.

"Since he has to clean up the house first," you added with a playful wink, a hint of humor creeping into your tone.

Lloyd's smile broadened at your jest, a sense of relief washing over him as he realized you had everything under control.

"Leave," you commanded, your voice brooking no argument. "And don't ever come back."

Reluctantly, Susan and Charmichael complied, their defeat evident in their defeated expressions as they slunk away, their tails between their legs.

As Charmichael and Susan begrudgingly exited the premises, leaving behind a trail of tension in their wake. "You always manage to find trouble, don't you?" you remarked, a hint of exasperation in your tone.

Lloyd turned to you with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. He placed a comforting arm on your shoulder, seeking reassurance in the midst of uncertainty.

"No matter what, you still care for me, right?" he questioned, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

You met his gaze with a small, enigmatic smile playing at the corners of your lips. "In your dreams," you replied cryptically, words laced with affection and defiance.

With a swift motion, you brushed aside the sentimentality, your expression hardening as you turned away from him.

Lloyd watched you go, his arms crossed over his chest as he contemplated your retreating figure. Despite your dismissive words, he couldn't shake the feeling that beneath your tough exterior, there still lay a flicker of concern for him.

'Woof.'

The sound of Choco's bark brought Lloyd back to the present, the loyal dog appearing at his side with a comforting presence. Lloyd reached down to pet the dog's head, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Your mother is still a bad liar," he remarked with a chuckle.

[madschiavelique]

So I thought up a smutty request last night for romanced Gale! Gale makes use of an invisibility spell:

Tav and Gale are on a stealth mission and Gale casts invisibility. During the mission they duck into a narrow alcove to escape the notice of a few guards on patrol.

“Wait. Why are we hiding?” Tav asks, hyper aware of how closely they’re pressed together.

“Instinct I suppose.” Gale says, grateful for the spell that hides his amorous blushing. “Eh-hem. I did just have an idea though.” He continues in low voice.

Tav stares into the darkness, confused. Realization dawns as they feel his excitement growing against their thigh.

“Oh! But… now?!” They whisper.

“Perhaps not now, perhaps at some point back at camp… if you’re amenable to… surprises.”

Now it’s Tav’s turn to blush without being seen.

“Yes.” They breathe, trying to reign in their own excitement and anticipation.

What do you think would happen when they get back to camp😏?

omg i'm sorry i took so long for this but i cooked harder than i thought for it and it's good (i think ?) ; a special thank u to @gracethyomen for proofreading me <333

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ pairing : gale x fem!reader

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : smut (mdni), use of spells for sex (hold person, blindness, mage hand, enthral), soft dom gale, finger fucking, gale is a teasing fuck, female/afab reader, if i forgot any other do tell pls !

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 5,5k

It was supposed to be simple. Some kind of artefact retrieval without eyes or ears to witness about it. Scrolls and spells were ready, potions were about to be drunk, and your tools to disarm and lockpick anything were all properly arranged in your purse.

Gale was travelling lightly with no staff. Simply a belt with a few scrolls of Dimensional Door and Misty Step attached to it, ready to be used.

You had managed to get up some vines on the side of the manor containing the desired artefact, shushing Gale as he huffed and puffed upon arriving at the top of it.

“We could have just used a scroll to travel such heights,” he whispered.

“Who knows,” you murmured back, “we might need those soon.” You’d continued your way, silent as a shadow while Gale tried his very best not to trip on his robes as he knelt every now and then.

After following the instructions that had been given to you, you arrived at the room where the artefact was - fortunately enough for you - its current owner deemed it insufficiently important enough for it to be displayed at the very centre of the room. But rather it was placed on one of the shelves.. 

You lock-picked the balcony’s door linked to the room with sufficient ease, and once in it Gale made sure to point out to you that the stand on which the artefact was placed was trapped. 

You observed the mechanism and how you were supposed to take care of it, but during your meticulous contemplation, the gaze of your companion lingered on you with an intensity which you felt didn’t communicate any kind of danger.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you whispered as you started dismembering the trap.

“Just admiring your concentration. As the days pass I understand how an artist never grows tired of his muse’s profile.” he hummed, his voice low.

You almost missed the proper sensitive screw of the trapped base, a hiccup of your heart making your hand tremble as your cheeks warmed.

After disarming it properly and placing the artefact in a bag, you left by the same way you had both entered. You were a bit less worried about being crouched and properly hidden now. You had retrieved the artefact without a problem, and now if you had to escape you could just use some scrolls or potions of Feather Fall to jump from wherever you were.

You simply walked on an outside balcony, listening to any new sounds in the night that could mean the approach of a guard.

“You surprised me before, you know.” you ended up whispering as you walked. 

“I am the one surprised you haven’t had such words spoken to you before, does it seem that unusual to you ?” he questioned.

“It’s not about that, although… whatever it’s just that it came out of nowh-”

But your words were cut as he grabbed your waist and pulled you in an alcove, murmuring the invisibility spell and allowing you both to disappear in the night. You were about to question him but he simply pressed his pointer finger to his lips, shushing you.

The resonating sounds of clicketing armour came to your ears, two guards walking next to one another in the far distance speaking about how boring the reception was at the manor tonight. Your heart was beating so hard you were certain Gale could hear it. You were so close to him, his hand firmly placed on your waist, your eyes unable to decipher where his own were.

He hummed, a shiver running down your spine as he moved his hand from your waist to the small of your back.

However, one thing struck you in the silence: the guards had not continued past you both. It seemed that they had chosen to patrol one section of the many corridors throughout the area… It seems you and Gale had grossly overestimated their dedication to the job.

“Wait,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “Why are we hiding ?”

“Instinct I suppose.” His voice was low, yet filled with a sort of surprise. As if he had been pulled out of a dream, content with the idea that his furious blush was hidden. “I…” he was searching for his words and you could feel his breath crash on your cheek and ear, hanging on his lips in the waiting of what he was about to say. “I have an idea though.”

You couldn’t read his mind, from all the scrolls and potions you had to pick this one was the spell you wished you had with you. It wasn’t long before you understood. He sighed as the hand on your lower back pulled you slowly towards him, and he hummed. Your chest swelled when you inhaled, your mouth agape as you felt the hardness that was pressing against your thigh, and the realisation dawned on you.

“Oh…” you whispered, feeling the insistence of his gaze on you. “But… now ?”

“Perhaps not now,” he breathed, his forehead pressing against yours, “perhaps at some point back at camp, if you’re amenable to… surprises.”

You felt the way his lips curled in a small smile as he whispered the last word, and you felt your cheeks warming up. You tilted your head slightly, feeling your nose brushing against his as you opened your lips, feeling his own sigh fall onto them.

“Yes,” you murmured, trying to contain your excitement like it was about to overflow.

His chuckle was low, his hand finding yours, his thumb painting circular motions on the back of it.

“Then we better get back.”

You felt his forehead leave yours, and you supposed that he was checking if the guards were still there, whom you had completely forgotten about in your intimate haze. They had disappeared behind the corner, and Gale took no further minute before murmuring : 

“Non fit injura,” the featherfall spell. 

In but a second you were both imbued with a feeling of lightness, and if you thought your heart was about to fly out of your chest just mere minutes ago, you were now positively sure that if you excitement could grow wings you’d fly higher than any dragon.

You both took your impetus before dashing and jumping. You repressed the giggle that bubbled up your chest while falling. You reached the ground in perfect shape, hearing the slightest grunt somewhere on your left side from Gale. 

Sooner than you had expected, the invisibility spell vanished and you saw him. The moon’s light was shining on his earring as his eyes caught yours. There was a gleam of which even the stars could not match, a darkness filling his eyes like two onyx pearls.

“Shall we ?” he smiled, offering you his hand.

You felt like your smile would crack your face, and you took his hand in yours as you made your way to the camp.

You were received by the rest of the group, cheered on by the companions as they pointed to the artefact in question. Your first task at the start of the next day was to give this artefact to an apothecary, but the next day could wait: your thoughts were focused on Gale's words.

Surprises... What specifically did he mean by that?

Dinner came, and your companions asked you about the progress of your mission. Gale was the obvious narrator. He, who had so much love for recounting his anecdotes, began to describe at length the beauty of the building you had been in, slipping in here and there that Astarion would have appreciated the debauched party the hosts were having. Pointing out to Wyll that an acquaintance of the Blade’s father was apparently involved in all these celebrations, all the while occasionally making the group laugh.

"Are you perfectly certain that nobody saw you?" asked Shadowheart.

Gale's eyes rested on you for what seemed like an eternity. He had intentionally omitted to mention your slight pause on the way out. "Definitely safe," he assured.

Bedtime came and everyone went back to their tents. You passed Gale, his eyes roaming up and down your body before returning to your face, and his gaze moved from yours to your lips before he entered his tent.

Your own tent was a little way from the group's, and as leader of said group, they'd let you have a corner to yourself to let you breathe. Most of them were aware that you were trying as hard as you could to maintain a band of adventurers who were all comically different, and that this was no easy task. So they agreed you were entitled to a slightly more secluded corner for your peace and quiet.

But your peace and quiet did not give you rest from your whirling thoughts. As you finished taking off your day gear, a constant stream of questions took over your thoughts. 

Should you wait for Gale to come and see you? Should you go to him? At some point back at camp... What if he hadn't designated today? What if, after all, the adrenalin had worn off and his desires were no longer present? You didn't know what to do.

All your doubts were put aside, however, when one of the sides of your tent was raised and Gale stepped into it. His eyes were just as dark as when you landed outside the manor. You faced him, motionless, your heart fluttering between your ribs as he moved slowly towards you.

It wasn't long before he was as close to you as he had been in the alcove of the manor - a deep sigh echoing in his chest as his breath hit your ear and his beard scratched your cheek.

You tilted your head, looking up at him through your lashes, your eyes going from his eyes to his lips and trying not to look too desperate. He came to cup your face with his hand, and you leaned into his touch. His thumb softly grazed your skin, his second hand placing itself on your hip.

"I never thought waiting would be such a torment, yet this evening has proved to me otherwise." He murmured, his hand on your hip moving again to the small of your back to press you against him.

You brushed your nose against his, feeling his warmth and the weight of his words.

"Then why not end it now ?" you whispered back.

"Because I want to appreciate you," he murmured, his lips barely brushing yours, "delight in the sight of you, ink you in my mind..."

He didn't go on with his sentence, just let his lips touch yours, both your bodies relaxing instantly. Both of your hands came to his shoulder, one of them venturing to cup his face. He was gentle at first, almost hesitant, before revealing his hunger.

The hand that was cupping your cheek travelled to the back of your neck to kiss you harder, bring you closer to him, a surprised moan vibrating from your lips as his fingers combed their way in your hair.

As you leaned your head back from the slight pull he made, his lips lowered on your jaw, kissing your pulse point, your neck was to be his, now. He’d been sorely displeased when finding out you’d allowed Astarion to drink from it. From you. He came back to take your lips, his hands coming to unlace your shirt.

You lowered yours to mirror his intentions, but he gently took both of your wrists in his and brought them up to your head. 

“Hm hm,” he hummed like a softened tutting of a scolding parent, and through the haze you saw a glint of mischief in his eyes.

His fingers continued to take care in removing your shirt, but you couldn’t help the feeling, the need to touch him and be touched by him. 

You had waited enough, and so hadhe. He had no right to tease you so, to caress you with sweet words all evening and not let you have your fingers brush on his own skin.

Your arms lowered again, a hand placed on his shoulder as the other one rested on the back of his neck to bring him into another kiss, hungry, devouring his lips as he hummed and sighed in relief.

But in his chest rumbled a dark sound, vibrating on your lips before he whispered into them : 

“Non movere.” In an instant, lilac glyphs and squares grew on the ground, and soon enough your body wasn’t yours to command anymore. 

Unable to move byyour own will, you stood there, certain that whatever breeze coming over you would not be able to make even a single hair on your head move. Your wrists and ankles were stiffened, it was as if you had been blocked in a mould that you had yet to come out of… the new masterpiece of your creator.

You knew this feeling, knew the shape of it, the metallic smell of magic it left in the air once it was spoken.

You couldn’t do anything other than blink and let your lips part in complete surprise as your eyes fell on the glint of mischief his gaze held: he had just cast the Hold Person spell. On you.

He took a step back, observing you up and down his work, tilting his head to the side in his contemplation.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as the thrill of all kinds of possibilities electrified every limb of your body in anticipation.

His eyes set back to yours, and for once looking into Gale’s eyes gave you no response as to what was about to come.

“I mentioned earlier tonight,” he took a step forward you again, his pointer finger hooking under your chin to make sure your eyes wouldn’t leave his, “That I had a few surprises for you. Didn’t I, my little muse?”

His eyes did not leave yours as the back of his hooked finger traced the skin down your neck, brushing your pulse point. His stare darkened atthe feel of your rapid heartbeat.

His touch woke goosebumps in its path, blossoming on your skin as a warm shiver ran down your spine, arching your back as much as you could with the spell holding your body. Your breath hitched with a sharp inhale.

“You plant such ideas in my mind…” his finger traced your collarbone in a measured and agonising unhurriedness, “the driest of lands would flourish back to life by the thought of you.”

His voice had gone low, his words slow. His eyes searched for every reaction your body could provide by the single brush of his fingers on your skin. You tried pushing forward, tried moving to feel more than his fingertips on you, but the spell was holding you tight in place.

He hovered over the curve of your chest, your clothes suddenly feeling like they were becoming unnecessary. He finally reached the laces he had left to tie you in the air, continuing to untie them with the same ease.

“So impatient, what am I to do with you?” he said, his fingers untying the last remaining string.

His hands left it, your eyebrows furrowing as you let out an annoyed sigh. Your body was hot, your clothes now unwanted on your skin. The only thing covering you that could bring you satisfaction was Gale's touch covering your entire body.

He took a step to the side, then another, until he was no longer in your line of vision. But you felt his presence, felt his breath on the back of your neck as both his hands settled on your waist.

“Do you have a single idea…” he murmured, his mouth lowered to your ear as his hands moved up your waist to reach your arms and manipulate them to raise them above your head with incredible ease, “How hard you make it for me to keep my hands off you?”

His hands brushed against yours for a moment, making you shiver as your breath hitched in your chest, pushing it taught like a sail in the wind. His lips brushing against your ear made you want to turn your head to kiss him, to reach him, but the spell was binding you.

His hands went down following the curves of your body until they reached the sides of your shirt. He pinched them with both hands before whispering: “Caecus te.”

Your next blink left you in absolute darkness, your vision having been momentarily robbed by the incantation of the Blinding spell.

All the sensations were completely different, as if amplified. The warmth of Gale's breath on the back of your neck made you shudder and let out a soft moan, his scent of parchment and warm velvet perfumed your air, and his voice echoed in your soul like a white light as you felt his hands brush against your bare skin while removing your shirt. 

“Feeling you in the alcove bewitched me.”

Sparks burst beneath your skin as his fingertips barely grazed your waist, passing like a feather over your ribs before gently pulling your shirt over your head until the night air enveloped your upper body.

The distinct sound of your shirt falling to the floor in a heap of fabric almost made you jump. Gale's breath was no longer at the back of your neck, and the rustle of his clothes somewhere around you was your only indicator that he was still there.

Your breathing quickened, the uncertainty of what he was going to do to you making your heart and body race.

You gasped as the warmth of his hand touched the bare skin on your waist, suddenly inhaling. Its twin came to rest on your hip, the warmth of his palm spreading to your bones.

‘Your body is one I shall worship till my last breath is stolen from me,’ he whispered, his breath landing on your face, and you drank in his words through parted lips.

His fingers ran up your body like ivy over a statue in an abandoned garden, so that it would never be left alone. His fingertips brushed against the flesh of your breasts, covered by your underclothes, his touch tinting your skin with a warm light as it passed over the landscape of your body.

You wanted to press your body against his, to nestle your face in the nape of his neck as you embraced him, wishing you were no longer covered by anything and letting him roam every inch of your body.

His hands went down to the leather lace of your trousers, pulling on a single string to undo the buckle you made every morning. Your trousers had always been too big for you, with the last few weeks of emaciated food in camp and the constant fighting and walking making the loop to be tightened a little more every time. 

So it came as no surprise when the garment fell to the ground with a thump, revealing the remnant of skin that he had yet to see.

A low rumble vibrated in his chest and echoed on your skin, breathing in his air and all you could catch of him in the darkness you inhabited.

“Gods…” his voice had come closer, and the air seemed less cool as your cheeks heated.

His fingers hovered over your hip, running down your thigh as the other hand traced from below your navel to the edge of your underwear.

You heard him swallow, his breath landing on your chest and the beginning of your stomach. His head was down, his concentration complete. Your body was boiling, waiting for his every move.

“But before I can enjoy touching you, I want to look at you.”

And then his fingers left you cold, the sensation of freshness returning as you felt him no longer beside you. The contrast of the absence of contact was sudden, completely disorientating.

“Gale?” you called,

You chased him with your ears, looking for him in everything you could hear, everything you could smell, everything your body could feel. And just when you thought he had vanished into thin air or left, you heard: 

"Veni et iuva me."

You felt nothing on the spot. There was no physical change, nothing was blocked, nothing was new. But you shuddered at the thought of what he had just said: the Mage Hand spell.

"I won't touch you," you heard him say as you could make out the stool in your tent being moved "just yet, at least."

The legs of the stool were put down, and the rustle of clothes suggested that Gale had just taken his seat, ready to enjoy the spectacle of which he was the creator.

The cool, strange touch of his mage hand delicately grasped your chin. The touch felt icy in the moment, and you wondered whether the nature of the spell made it cool, or whether anything else in the moment would have offered a chilling contrast to the warmth of your desire spread across your body.

The finger followed the same path as Gale had just moments before as it passed from your throat to your collarbone, gently making its way to the valley of your breasts. The tip of his index finger grasped the small strip of fabric running around your torso, pulling it slightly upwards.

The fabric slid over, pressing on the roundness of your tits and making them fuller until they were free. The hand stopped pulling on the strap when it was above your bust.

His finger curved into a hook, tracing the roundness of your breast with the back of it, slipping under the little crease of warm skin where your breasts and torso met. Then he spread out his hand, putting his whole palm on it to embrace it.

His thumb went around the halo of your nipple, gradually approaching your hardened peak. The skin of his thumb came to rest on it, a moan passing your lips.

He made circular movements, sometimes returning to follow the contour of your areola before returning to the central point that had become so sensitive. His index finger joined it to squeeze it, causing you to inhale sharply.

"Do you like the way that feels?"

The hand kept pressing, brushing and caressing with a delicacy and skill that were second to none.

"Mhm," you hummed in response, all your thoughts turned to the delicious sensations you were being given.

"Use your words, my love. Your voice is way too pretty for me not to hear it."

His fingers pressed a little harder on your nipple, an additional moan rising in your throat.

"Yes, I like it." you managed to pronounce in the haze.

"Good," he replied, his voice low, "it would pain me to know you're not enjoying this as much as I am."

You imagined him sitting there, facing you, his hand caressing the air and guiding the blue silhouette against your curves. He was the real master of your desire at that moment, and although you loved the sensation he was giving you, you would have preferred it if it had been his own hand touching you.

You felt the warmth of the knot in your belly building, and your slightly half-open thighs couldn't move to stick together and give you any friction to ease the desire burning inside you. Two words echoed through you: 

"Touch me," expelled your voice.

"Isn't it what I am doing dearest?" he replied as his hand left your breast and moved down your rib.

"I want you to be the one touching me."

His digits ran down your bust, following the curve of your belly until they reached your navel.

"All in due time, my little muse."

His fingers went down to the fabric of your underwear, skimming over the elastic before continuing down your thigh. He took hold of it, gripping it firmly before loosening his grasp, his thumb tracing circles on your skin.

His hand ventured to the warm inside of your thigh, and no matter how hard you tried to move your hips forward or press your thighs together, you were getting nowhere, a frustrated sigh rising in your chest.

He caressed the tender skin there, moving up slightly but never reaching the core of your desires.

"Gale," you pleaded with a ragged breath, "I'll let you do anything if you just touch me right now."

You heard him laugh lightly, taking pleasure in the fact that you wanted him so badly.

"Let's not get hasty in promising anything when you're in such a state," he replied. “Besides,” He crooned teasingly. “Whatever I want is already within my reach.”

What other spells could he possibly use? Your thoughts wandered for a few moments over various possibilities as the fingers of the mage's hand made your veins feel like they were made of electricity.

Command to order you to get to your knees or approach him without you having a grasp on your body ? Enlarge to make himself bigger and dominate you better ? Conjure a Myrmidon to join him in seeking your pleasure ?

But all concentration on the subject flew away in a shower of sparks as the fingers of the mage's hand landed on your covered cunt.

A deep whimper of pleasure echoed through the tent as his fingers moved slowly back and forth, caressing you as they moved from your lips to your clit with a cruel slowness. His thumb pressed gently against it, and the heat in your lower belly grew as you sank your teeth into your bottom lip to keep another moan from escaping.

"Don't loweryour voice my dear, no one but me will hear you tonight."

How could he be so sure? How could he say with such certainty that-

A silence spell over the sleeping camp.

Intelligent fucker.

Your teeth loosened the grip they had on your bottom lip, letting your voice rise in the air with every calculated movement the magician made on your pussy.

"I had no idea you were so sensitive," he remarked as he pressed his thumb a little harder, the fabric of your underwear moistening by the second and ruining under his touch.

Eventually, his fingers came to grip the side of the fabric covering you, pulling it aside. The chill of the night air slammed into the damp warmth of your cunt, your cheeks heating at the thought of Gale's gaze on the mess he'd made of you.

He said nothing, but you could feel his stare on you. You imagined the intensity of it, his lust-darkened eyes beneath his furrowed brows, his hand raised to guide Mage's hand. Did he have as much trouble containing himself as you had staying grounded?

The middle and index fingers of the hand came together before resting on your folds, your breath coming in short gasps. He let them press lightly between your lips, letting your wetness coat his fingers.

His thumb went back to your clit, the difference in sensation without any fabric to cover you making you tremble. It wasn't long before one of his fingers was inside you, caressing the heat that was making you ache.

You wanted to move your hips, look for more friction, more movement, but Gale had calculated his move so that you would end up like this: at his mercy, your pleasure controlled by his every move.

His movements were slow, measured, but of unrivalled delight. Your tongue flicked over your lips before moaning as he pushed a second finger in, making hooking movements, as if he were trying to guide your body and your desire towards him and him alone.

Your belly was hot, your lower back burning. Your breath hitched as his fingers found the spot that made you see stars. You felt the knot tighten, like a warm summer cloud spreading across your hips.

You felt close, and you dreamt that your deliverance would end on his fingers. Then you realised that, maybe, all he was waiting for was the magic word.

"Gale," you managed to say between groans, "please."

You heard him rise suddenly, walking towards you as the mage's hand slipped away from you. A whimper of complaint escaped your lips as you felt so close to climax with nothing to reach it anymore.

"Te absolvo" he said, sounding short of breath and eager.

As your eyes took in the dark light of the room again, you saw him from an angle that set your body ablaze.

Gale's face was close to yours, the violet light of the Hold Person spell illuminating his utterly mesmerised features, his pupils dilated almost to pitch black as he breathed heavily through parted lips.

You realised that, although you had been restrained and tormented by his spells, he was the one who was bewitched.

Breathless, regaining your senses, your eyes moved from his eyes to his lips for a moment before returning to his gaze, in which the amethyst sparkle glowed of magic. 

"Please," you repeated in a whisper, "touch me."

Gale tilted his head to one side, his eyes falling on your lips for a moment as he chewed the inside of his cheek, as if he himself were holding back capturing your lips in a kiss, or more...

His hand came to rest on your thigh as his hot breath spread over your skin, the warmth of his palm contrasting with the cold of the mage's hand. He moved slowly up your skin, gripping the elastic of your panties, his eyes never leaving yours. He ran his thumb underneath it, his second hand grasping the other side and gently pulling your underwear down to mid-thigh.

His fingers brushed the inside of your thigh, and your breath hitched as you tilted your gaze down to watch, the use of your body seeming to return to you as the spell gradually lessened its hold. But the Mage hand came to grip your chin, raising your face so that your gaze didn't leave Gale's.

"Don't look away."

He wanted to see every detail of your face, every reaction, the beauty of what his fingers could awaken in you. Yes, he wanted to see this spectacle.

His fingers came to cup your cunt, a sigh of relief escaping from between your lips

"Oculi tui solum volunt," he murmured.

You hadn't heard him say that spell before, but a sudden feeling came over you: you couldn't take your eyes off him.

No matter how hard you tried to look away, you couldn't. Turning your head, looking at another part of his face, nothing seemed to work. Enthralled, that's what you were.

One of his fingers sank into you, its thickness wider than a mage's hand and warmer. He tilted his head back slightly, his eyes thin and dark as he watched your every reaction.

The feeling of your warm walls closing on his fingers was something he was addicted to, knowing he was the orchestrator of your pleasure made him want to let this vision of paradise last forever. His thumb caressed your clit, your body reacting immediately by tightening around his finger as you moaned.

Gale's free hand moved up to your breast, gripping it gently as his thumb pressed lightly against your skin. 

"You wanted me that much, little love?" he asked, the realisation of how wet you were satisfying him beyond measure.

"Yes," you replied, your breath catching as he thrust a second finger in.

His two thumbs made circular movements over your nipple and you clit, his fingers inside you moving perfectly and touching the perfect spot again without effort.

You felt you were near, and so did Gale. The knot was getting tighter and tighter, your lower belly as if lit up by a marble-sized sun. His eyes shone for a moment, a glint of mischief that you now knew all too well.

The mage's hand gently let go of your chin, moving down a little until it was around your neck, and squeezing on each side.

"Come for me," he breathed, his eyes fixed on yours.

The world shattered into a thousand pieces as everything turned to the white warm light. Vibrating waves beat through your body like a second heart, pulsing until your thighs shook and your walls squeezed Gale's fingers spasmodically and the pressure on your neck made you see stars.

Gale whispered something you couldn't hear, and the purple glyphs disappeared as you fell into his arms, still shaking from your orgasm. He lifted his head and kissed your temple, stroking your hair.

"That's it, good," he murmured. Then your breath stilled, nestling your face in the hollow of his neck for a moment before returning to his eyes.

"You have a way with surprises," you said in your haze as he laughed softly.

"I think the most pleasant surprises come with the inspiration you bring me," he admitted as his hand cupped your cheek. "But I do think your thoughts have suggested a few ideas that I simply can't wait to try out."

You frowned for a second, "My thoughts?"

He raised an eyebrow, a sneer stretching his lips as the realisation dawned on you: a mind-reading potion. What you couldn't say in words, your body and mind had been shouting at him all this time.

"How are you feeling?" he asked anyway, for the politeness of the gesture.

"Good," you confirmed as your head fell on his shoulder. "So good."

"Excellent, because you won't get an ounce of sleep tonight."

[spiderwarden]

HERE IS what is one of the many painful things for me and Minthara. The fact that she is the one who fills the roll of 'pushed out' when it comes to the group or friend circle. Let me explain that. She consistently proves how she does care for others in the group, she does not approve of giving up Shadowheart and actively supports her independence, she is protective of Astarion and hopes for his freedom, true freedom, she respects Lae'zel, she respects Gale and advises him against self-deprivation in Mystra's name, stands by Minsc, respects Jaheira, and when each is put in danger by Orin she is usually INTENT on getting them back safely.

But when it's time to step up for Minthara? There is hardly any care given, and it is even met with reluctance in some companions (save for Karlach and .. one other?? maybe two other?? companions??)

She also notes how there have been 'other' reunions that had occurred since the end of the game which she was not invited, and is actually visibly miffed about it. She notes already how no one will acknowledge that a DROW saved the world, and notes how that detail will surely be dismissed.

Don't forget, it's canonical that she wishes for your companion group to be her found family after losing her home, and just to have this be something that is how she is MET... oof.

[messiahzzz]

i have been thinking a lot about mystra’s relationship with gale, how reducing her to “his ex” really is an understatement. she was and still is so much more than that. moreover, using the term “ex-girlfriend” in relation to her plainly feels wrong and diminishes the influence she has over him, as well as the role she played in his life since his childhood (and it also trivializes the abuse he suffered through her).

there are several instances where gale gets defensive when his companions mention or ask him abt mystra. he claims that their relationship was no less real even though most of their interactions were incorporeal.

we have already established that gale is an unreliable narrator in this particular case, still not having fully come to terms with the fact that he was groomed, manipulated and abused. he ping-pongs between bouts of realization (even in his romance), gaining clarity that he was merely used and eventually discarded and that mystra never truly cared for him, back to making light of his situation, idealizing her once again. realizing the extent of his trauma, that he is indeed a victim in this scenario, unlearning what he has been made to believe from a young age is a slow and painful journey. he is in the process of healing, but it takes time. time he deserves just like anyone else.

which makes me wonder what their relationship really looked like, once the lines between teacher, muse, and lover began to blur. i also feel like one of the reasons why part of the fandom still struggles to identify mystra as his abuser, is because she is a white woman who initially presents herself in a soft-spoken, benevolent manner… and well, the fact that gale himself is ambitious to a fault and a lil insane about the promise of power. he also briefly mentions "crossing mystra’s boundaries” when he confides in tav and tells them about his folly. (“i am, after all, the villain in this story.”) which led to a looooot of misinterpretations.

leaving the overall lore and mystra’s treatment of her other chosen aside — what we can discern from her interactions with gale in-game, is that mystra is civil as long as she remains in control and gale follows her demands, but as soon as there’s even a slight mention of challenging her power or defying her rule, she rather quickly changes her tone.

there is also one particular exchange between them that just won’t leave my head:

“you were many things to me, but never a threat. and never a savior."

even if we choose to blatantly ignore the fact that mystra is a deity, his goddess - there is no possible way that their relationship ever could have been equal by any mortal standards. the power imbalance that comes with her being his teacher and a symbol of his admiration, plus the sheer control she holds over him and his powers are simply too great. don’t even let me get started on how it is a common tactic of abusers to isolate their victims from any outside influences so they can exert full control over them. and how up to meeting tav and their merry band of misfits, every single soul he was close to was inevitably tied to mystra in one way or another. he briefly mentions his colleagues and then there’s elminster, also mystra’s chosen and former lover, and tara, who is a fine wizard in her own right. he spend so many years in service of her, dedicating his life to her, that now there is no one left he can truly call a friend. most of his little anecdotes and stories he tells are restricted to his childhood and university days, everything else was mystra.

evidently, ordering gale to detonate the orb is the most efficient course of action in her eyes. he is just as expendable as any other mortal, after all. maybe once significantly more useful given his status and the extent of his powers, but she doesn’t feel sorrow nor remorse for ordering him to end his life. his death is simply the most convenient means to an end.

another thing i would also like to briefly touch upon is the trigger/detonator itself. a dagger to the heart. it could have been literally anything else, a simple incantation. it is well within mystra’s power to stabilize the orb and also to remove it from his body entirely. but no, what she requires of gale is to stab himself. one might argue that it was simply a cinematic choice meant for a more dramatic effect, but it really leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. especially considering the fact that she is commonly known and referred to as a jealous goddess. it almost makes it seem like yet another form of punishment or mere pettiness. after his long period of isolation, gale is now surrounded by fellow humans. people he cares about, even perhaps people he might eventually consider good friends — which is enough of a reason for him to not want to die, to keep going and try to find another way, rather than to blindly follow mystra’s bidding. now there’s a group of people who support him and are genuinely invested in him staying alive. hmmm...

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter thirty-three — give it time (💋)

“I’ll admit, you made it look like a home.”

You looked around, enamored by the mutable blend of the other’s home. There was oddly a cozy charm that bled in the space, a mixture of contrasts that you wouldn’t have thought he would involve himself with.

There were soft shadows playing against the walls, promenaded by the warm and golden glow of the lamps. It was really elegant in here, yet, meticulously chosen to make you feel comfortable enough to sit down on the obviously expensive furniture.

“Didn’t know you had a…knack for interior design either.” You said hesitantly, looking at a very abstract tiny statue of a triangle on one of the shelves. Even thought you were interested, it still just felt like a painted on canvas for you. Kind of like...the idea that there can be paint on a canvas, but it doesn't make it a painting. "Learning a lot more about you everyday."

"It wasn't my idea," He sighed. "I told the interior designer 'not too many colors', and I guess she thought I was talking about completely mute."

"Feels like a sanctuary," you murmured.

Despite the dismissive words he gave you, the effort that was put into everything was clearly crafted and corroborated. You walked over to the books sitting on the coffee table, the only things out of place from the rest of the textures, reading the hard cover and smiling.

"You're really considering it?" You asked, to which Kuni turned towards you, "Taking care of the orchard outside."

He shrugged, his eyes moving back to making tea in the kitchen. "I don't have a choice. It's either me who does it, or it dies."

"That's not true, you can always pay someone to do it for you. I know there's a lot of people who may want it for themselves, it's completely healthy." You rambled, trying to see it through the long windows. "I take it that was a housewarming gift too?"

"From Furina. Came with the house, thought it'd be funny to see me struggle with something mundane."

"I heard," You grinned, not being able to keep your laugh in. "Love that for you, it's like a package deal! Did it work?"

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair at the thought. "I guess, I don't know," He started pour the tea once the pot began to steam. "I know her goal was to drive me insane. A constant reminder that no matter how far I try to distance myself from complications, they find a way to root themselves in my life."

"Hey, I wouldn't see it as that." You chuckled, the sound mixing with the soft clinking of the ceramic cups he was setting on the table. "It's probably just a way to keep you grounded after everything."

"I don't see the appeal in tending to trees."

"Maybe it's not even about that," You mused. "Maybe it's just about finding a healthy medium in your life, don't suppose you had that before, right?" You said, teasingly.

He rolled his eyes at you, a humored smile tugging at his lips. "You're one to preach about silver linings."

Your jaw dropped, a small scoff coming from your mouth. "I actually came here to truce, thank you very much. Even though you're the one who tried to run away from me — news flash, didn't work, genius. Still pissed off about that. I'm glad that Furina is looking to help you as much as she's looking to out you."

"Running away is my thing." He squinted playfully, "Like she's big help anyway. The only reason she's in on it is because she wants us to have this romance trope going on for real this time. It's stupid as fuck."

You paused at his words, feeling yourself swallow a big lump some of the tea nestled in your mouth. You shivered at the heat that washed on you, pursing your lips in thought as you let the conversation simmer. The two of you standing in a companionable silence. The trees outside rustled gently in the breeze, their leaves a vibrant contrast to the muted tones inside.

"I mean, I don't know," You paused, cringing as your fingers tightened on your cup. "I don't think it's stupid."

Kuni stiffened too, gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. There was a certain look that you've never seen before from him. You couldn't decipher his actual feelings. "I figured."

Your cheeks flushed. "Holy shit, never mind if you were expecting it already." You hissed to yourself, trying to ebb how much embarrassment was on your skin. "Look, I need to check into my hotel soon—"

"Sit down." He cut you off, assertiveness in his tone enough to get you to immediately listen, plopping back down. There was an unexpected gravity that was with him, another departure from his nonchalant attitude.

Your heart hammered rapid fire in your chest, a mix of fear and total apprehension were doing a waltz on your general disposition. The more time you were here, the more you worried about the next time you'll make an absolute fucking fool of yourself. You fidgeted with your fingers.

"What really brought you here." He asked, expectantly. "First thing you give me is a hug, and some words of affirmation. You're not here just to catch up, especially after I blew you off."

"I wanted to see you again." You admitted, the weight of your own words pressing down on you. "You owned up to it, left your part of the Internet in a spiral, and then didn't bother to talk to me after that."

He was looking at you, you sensed it. And it wasn't like you could look at him back, otherwise you were going to melt. It was different seeing him from up close, it was an original experience to you if you could name it anything.

His eyes were searching you, despite all you said, as if trying to decipher if you were being genuine. His eyes bored into you like a tiny laser burning your skin. He nodded, a sliver of understanding crossing his face. "You gave me the impression that you were done. I left it at that."

"Yeah, well, I felt like the only one who could leave it at anything was me."

Despite how sticky and tense it was again, you felt relieved that he wasn't as malicious as he was behind the screen. You were relieved that at least the worst of it was over. But it didn't didn't help the burning in your chest, the aching of the bubble in your throat. "Ei really made you do all that stuff? It's not because you really do hate me, right?"

There was no more pretending anymore, no more hiding behind false bravado or dissing each other behind screens like pussies. It was only raw honesty, vulnerable and exposed.

"(Y/N)." His expression softened, a silent dilemma clear on his face. He gathered his own courage, squaring his shoulders a bit and looking at you again. "I'm sorry."

You felt dazed, electricity in the air around you, the world officially tilted on its axis to you. "What?" You accentuated snippier than you intended.

"You were collateral. Nothing that you did deserved what happened to you. Makes sense that you did what you did, you weren't the problem." He explained, shoulders slumped again. "I was behind what I did, at the end of the day; Ei just told me to do it. I'm sorry for being part of the reason you couldn't bounce back. I know if the situation were different, I'd leave you alone."

People kept saying that to you these days, that nothing that happened was because you deserved it. Maybe you never quite got the picture until Kuni said something along the lines of it. You never thought that him apologizing to you would garner the oddest reaction out of you.

Because why was it sexy..? Stop.

"And," He sighed, grabbing your attention lightspeed again. "I would consider liking you more if this all didn't happen. You're alright."

His admission of everything was catching you off guard left and right. You had no idea what to feel with the prominent knot in your stomach. "Do you like me?" "(Y/N), I don't want to—"

"I'm alright, in your words, but do you like me?" Your tone solidified with each word slowly jutting out, assertiveness hardening your composure. "Tell me. Look at me and tell me."

The uncertainly stretched on for what was practically indefinitely. He held his breath, as did you, waiting for his response. Your heart was ruthless against you, beating against your body. He sized you up, seeking an answer for himself.

"...Yeah?" He admitted, voice barely audible as he tried to find his own words. But everything he did think of was so unlike him, out of his personal way of handling things like this. "Yeah. I do."

You blinked, both of your eye contact filling a certain, more romantic space that neither of you even thought was there before today. But the more you realized it, the more you realized that maybe the sexual tension was always there.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

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@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

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@kittywagun (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 177 }

the prince and the pauper.

historical romance | fairytale au

prince!jinwoo sung x commoner!fem.reader

you were traveling with your younger brother, trying to survive as you took refuge within the forest after the passing of your parents.

never one to know the joys and luxury of having a stable home with enough riches to keep you and your sibling well-fed, it was a struggle for you to maintain a carefree attitude-

but alas, you had to keep your head held high, for your darling brother was relying on you. since your parents passing, you had to leave them behind, burying them beneath the harsh ground to the best of your abilities while soothing your brother's tears.

despite how hopeless you felt being left alone with such a heavy burden of trying to survive with your brother, you knew that if it wasn't for his presence in your life, then you would have given up and tossed yourself within your parent's graves a long time ago.

all sense of time had become lost on you, with you and your brother continuing to live within the depths of the forest whilst surviving on meager meals of nuts and berries. and moments where you manage to use what little hunting skill you had to bring back a small fowl or a handful of fish were few and far in between.

and during moments when nature's elements were truly testing your chances of survival (from harsh rain that made your ragged clothes dirty and the cold chill that would envelope your form), you felt your sense of confidence dwindling down-

which was what pushes you to your breaking point.

a sense of desperation fills you, and just when you lost all hope, you heard some commotion settled several feet away from you and your brother's current resting spot. the scent of a roaring fire coupled along with some boyish laughter makes your ears perk up in response.

you look back at your brother, seeing him still sleeping peacefully against the tree's trunk, exhausted and completely unaware of the men who set up camp just a mere stone's throw away. he appeared gaunt from the days spent going without food as a wave of love further fills you with a determination.

taking off your dirtied shawl, you place it over your brother and give him a whispered promise of your return. your eyes trail toward the blazing flames and the scent of smoke, padding your bare feet across the dirt path as you made sure to remain hidden within the foliage.

after several seconds spent walking, the sounds of laughter grew even louder as you hid behind a tree, turning your gaze toward the two men that were currently speaking to one another. thanks to the light of the roaring fire, you could see their armors shining from it. you assumed that these two men were knights that had just finished their hunts for the day.

while observing, you take note of one of the knights, noticing his sandy brown hair and boisterous voice that echoes throughout the forest. his armor was bathed in gold and silver, making your eyes water from how gaudy it all appeared. looking away from the talkative knight, you trail your eyes toward his companion-

only to feel your breath get stolen away.

settled directly in front of the bright knight was another young man who appeared to be his exact opposite. whereas the knight with the sandy brown hair was the sun, this other knight was more like the moon. his long, ebony locks of hair seemed to be the same shade as a moonless night, and had it not been for the flames settled directly beside him, you would have missed the startling grey quality of them.

his eyes are like moonlight. you muse to yourself, wondering why you felt a strange sense of familiarity at the mere sight of him.

as you raked through your brain for a viable explanation, you were suddenly brought back to a memory of your parents, back when they were alive and well while you were in your teens as your brother had barely been 5 years old. they spoke about the kindness of the king and queen of ahjin kingdom and had high hopes of moving there to bask in their reign.

they spoke of the prince and princess of the kingdom and how they were achingly beautiful-

and somehow, you just knew that this dark knight was also the crowned prince of ahjin- jinwoo sung.

your breathing becomes labored with anticipation, watching as the golden knight pours what appeared to be sweetened wine within the prince's chalice.

"my prince, are you certain it was a wise choice to leave our steed behind at the castle?" the golden knight asks the prince, earning a rich chuckle from him.

"what's this, jinho? i thought you were much braver than what i assumed. we are not too far away from thy castle, and mother wishes for us to find worthy game for the morrow's feast. i see no issue with leaving our mounts behind to rest. it shall be an easy feat that can be done when dawn arrives."

the sight of prince jinwoo's smile and laughter was enough to make your knees go a little weak in response. never before had you seen such a devastating man. in all of your 20-some years of living, he was by far the most magnificent man you had ever laid eyes on.

forcing yourself to look away from the prince and his knight, you press your back against the hard wood of the tree. you waited for the prince to drain his wine while hearing the other man, jinho, let out a yawn.

"tis best we get some rest, my prince. i can feel the sweet ale coursing through me, and i believe i shall have pleasant dreams tonight."

you listen as the prince hums in agreement, hearing the shuffling and gentle clanks of their armor before retiring back into their makeshift tents for the night. when only the sounds of flickering flames were heard did you finally make your move.

creeping closer to the encampment, you saw two tents, making note of how the one on the right had to have housed the golden knight. snores were heard coming from such a tent as you made your way to the one settled to your left.

holding your breath, you inch inside of the tent to see the dark outline of the prince in a peaceful slumber. he makes no movement, with his long, black hair fanned out beneath him against the dirt ground. a sense of bewilderment fills you at how lackluster his lodging was. you saw no thick blankets made of wolfskin surrounding him, or even a simple pillow filled with feathers. the prince simply lay peacefully with his hands folded across his abdomen, a silk shirt with matching pants covering him as his suit of armor lay in a neat pile next to him.

feeling as though you finally had some luck on your side, you crept closer to his suit of armor and decided to search through it. perhaps he had a piece of jewelry or a gold chain that you could sell for a handsome price?

despite the thought of you stealing something left your stomach in a twist of knots, just the thought of being able to feed you and your brother well with the earnings was enough to push you forward.

just as your hand touched at the gauntlets, you felt a sudden shift in the air before something sharp and cold was pressed against the base of your throat.

"what's this...? a little thief i see."

you were given no time to react, feeling a large hand gripping at the back of your shirt as you were suddenly tossed out into the midst of the campsite. the light blazing from the fire gives you the perfect view of prince jinwoo's handsome face twisted with fury and anger at you.

the sliver tip of his dagger was pressed against your throat, and you were certain that this was how you were to meet your demise. a rightfully furious prince had caught you trying to steal from him, and he was going to show no mercy while cutting off your throat-

yet, oddly enough, such acts of violence never came.

you didn't allow yourself the luxury to breathe, simply staring up at the prince with wide eyes as you saw his expression change from anger to something else entirely- something much softer; something much kinder.

he drops the dagger from your throat, using his large hand to brush back your tangled hair while wiping a bit of the grime seen on your face away. his lips were parted, and just as he leaned down closer to you-

you heard your brother calling out your name.

"DON'T TOUCH MY SISTER!" your eyes go wide as you faced your right, seeing your brother with several rocks within his grasps as he found one to aim at the prince.

you gasp, wishing to tell your brother that you were alright and to not hurt the prince. yet despite how much your brother wished to attack prince jinwoo, an almost amused smile paints his features.

"oh no you don't, little one." the prince's knight, jinho, manages to grab a hold of your brother's collar, nearly ripping apart his paper thin shirt when the prince barks at his knight, "let him go."

jinho's eyes go wide, yet still, he listens to his prince and sets your brother back down on the ground. anxiety and fear were seen painted across your brother's features, and you quickly got off the ground to go to him.

you take your brother within your tight embrace, putting on a brave facade while looking back and forth between jinho and prince jinwoo. neither men looked particularly angry, but you were still running on adrenaline, uncertain of what fate had in store for you.

"my prince, what shall we do with the thieves?"

the prince simply holds out a hand to jinho, meeting you and you brother's gaze with grey eyes that were filled with tranquility. "what are your names?"

swallowing thickly, you relinquish both you and your brother's name, an apology on the tip of your tongue, yet the intensity of prince jinwoo's gaze stops you from speaking any further.

"and just how old are you?"

"i-i believe i am near my twentieth year with my brother being ten years my junior..."

"hn, i see. not much older than me and my own sister."

he snaps his fingers at jinho, "they are coming with us."

your eyes go wide as jinho was heard proclaiming his protests, "surely you cannot be serious my lord! they tried to rob you-"

"i see nothing more than two orphans that are trying to survive." the prince's voice echoes with clarity across the expanse of the forest, the solemn expression within his gaze already making jinho keep his mouth shut.

"we shall take them back with us, and they will become servants for me and jinah respectively."

your mind had gone hazy as your brother clings to you, his eyes appearing wary as the crowned prince of ahjin brings you both back on your feet. a wistful smile paints his handsome features, and you felt the air escaping your lungs in uneven breaths at the sight. "come, the harsh forest is no place for kind souls such as yourselves..."

and with those final words from prince jinwoo, you and your brother returned with him back to his castle, your futures now looking less bleak...

{ ... }

to say you were quite joyful at the fact that ahjin's king and queen were both extremely kind would be an understatement. once jinwoo had allowed you and your brother's dirtied form within the comfort of the castle, he allows you to tell your story to his parents.

after admitting to the king and queen of your own parents' passing due to a sudden illness, their deep gazes were filled with empathy for you and your brother, welcoming you both as part of their staff. as the queen takes you and your brother to the closest washroom, jinwoo was seen speaking to his father in hushed tones.

you and your brother were quickly stripped of your ragged clothes, with the king and queen's own maids placing you both in a wooden bath filled with lukewarm waters. it had been freshly prepared by the queen's gentle demands, and not enough time had passed for the waters to warm up in the fireplace.

but you nor your brother dared to complain after receiving such generosity. as the maids helped you and your brother become cleaner, washing away the dirt and grime that was caked on to your skin while lathering your hair with wonderfully scented soaps that captured the essence of wildflowers growing beneath the summer's sunshine-

you were in absolute heaven.

once you were both completely cleaned, the maids had given you some clothes to wear. you nearly cried upon feeling the soft material covering the expanse of your body, no longer itching as you felt as though you had been reborn once more.

you figured that would be the end of such kindness, with you thanking the king and queen (and their son) for their generosity. however, when the maids lead you to the grand dining hall where several dishes were laid out for you and your brother to indulge in.

your brother, being so young, immediately charges toward the food, biting into the roasted turkey leg while soaking up the soft bread with the juices surrounding it. your own stomach was felt growling in response, but admittedly, you felt overwhelmed with the sheer amount of kindness.

a gentle hand felt against your back forces you to come closer to the dining area, with you looking back to see prince jinwoo smiling down at you. "don't be shy, eat."

he pulls out the chair for you, giving your brother a gentle smile while ruffling his hair. realizing your shocked state, jinwoo grabs what looks like a golden utensil, cutting apart the roasted meat while placing the morsel against your lips.

"say 'ah.'"

heat was felt dyeing your cheeks when you slowly parted your lips for him, your teeth biting down against the savory piece. you had to bite back a moan in response, feeling the tears streaming down your face.

another light chuckle was heard coming from the prince. "is it good?"

"i- yes... it's the most delicious meal i've ever had."

"delicious enough to make you cry?" he notices your tears and gently begins wiping them away with his hand, making a tiny whimper escape from you. unable to speak, you decide to bask in their kindness along with your brother, eating such a filling supper as the prince made sure you both had your fill.

exhaustion was felt coursing through your veins, with your brother letting out a yawn as well. the prince notices how he was nodding off and casually carries him within his arms. you let out a weak protest, reassuring the prince that you could carry him, but he insisted. following close behind him with a look of embarrassment, you notice a light pair of footsteps coming from behind you.

looking back, you see a young girl with light brown hair and matching eyes, calling out to the prince, "big brother, you promised that i would get to play with a new friend soon."

your heart melted at the sight of her cute face and matching voice, seeing the tears fill her vision as a pretty pout paints her lips. prince jinwoo was about to say something to his little sister, but you end up speaking first, kneeling down to her level while reassuring her.

"you will be able to play with a new friend soon. my little brother will happily keep you company. but for now, he needs to rest a bit to regain his strength."

the young princess looks up at you with bright eyes while giving you an eager nod.

and while you spoke to princess jinah, you were unaware of how the prince's gaze was filled with a fondness for you and your kindness, falling for you almost immediately as he vowed to always protect you.

{ ... }

five years has passed since that fateful night, and you were still known as prince jinwoo's sole servant as your brother filled a similar role with princess jinah with little complaint on his end. like jinwoo, the princess kept your brother by her side at all times, and you could see a beautiful friendship blossoming between them as they kept each other company while growing up together.

and while they grew closer, so did you and prince jinwoo-

but in your case, it was a bit more unfortunate, for with each day that passes, you found yourself falling deeply in love with the prince.

despite your best efforts to keep yourself from falling for such an amazing man, you truly could not help it. for not falling for him was as difficult as climbing up a steep mountain, leaving your hands bloodied and bruised as you willed your heart to not yearn for him-

it was so easy, so incredibly easy, to follow your heart and ignore the rationalities of your mind. you knew of the great difference in statuses between you and prince jinwoo.

whereas prince jinwoo was heir to a throne- whose future was basked in brightness as he was meant to marry a princess from a neighboring kingdom, you were just a mere servant meant to obey him for the rest of your life.

after all, prince jinwoo had graciously saved you and your brother from an ill-known fate. had you tried to live off the forest any longer, you were certain that you would have both met your demise due to how difficult it was to survive all alone during such a harsh period of your lives.

however, the prince's kindness only served as a double-edged sword to you, making you fall completely and utterly in love with him. even if it took you a herculean effort to keep your feelings from coming forth from your perfectly parted lips, you had to swallow back such desires, remaining miserable as talk of his marriage to a beautiful princess with golden hair and grey eyes echoed across the castle of ahjin kingdom.

such news put you in a bit of a depressive slump, with your steps losing its bounce as you followed prince jinwoo dutifully from behind. he had woken up before the sun, taking brisk steps towards his father's study when he stops. turning around, he faces you while calling out your name.

you shiver upon hearing it, basking in the way jinwoo's voice spoke the syllables that made up your name with such warmth that it made your heart ache.

"yes, my prince?"

he shakes his head, tilting his lips up in a wry smile when he takes a strand of your hair with his hand. your eyes go wide, seeing this as evident as one of the ways to express his gratitude for you. he admires your hair for a few more beats before pressing a kiss against the strands. "go on and help with the cooks in the kitchen. i have something dire i wish to discuss with my father, and i will join you shortly."

never one to disobey your beloved prince, you simply give him a smile and a curtsy, excusing yourself before heading toward the kitchen. you greet the other servants along the way, catching bits and pieces of their gossip.

"did you hear? prince jinwoo wishes to call off his long engagement to princess hae-in."

you did a double take, nearly running into the wall when a powerful hand stops you. "ah, my dear, just who i wished to see."

you look forward to see an old man with grey hair and deep set eyes the color of a forest. he was the head cook for the royal family as he takes a hold of your shoulders and leads you into the kitchen, "i would like your help in preparing tonight's supper. if you could be so kind as to help everyone cut up the vegetables for the stew while baking fresh rolls."

your mind was racing, and you did your best to complete each task in the kitchen with a steady hand. yet the words of gossip refused to leave the confines of your mind, and you kept going back to those lingering words.

jinwoo wishes to call off the engagement with the princess? but why? she's a renown beauty... she would have been fit to be his wife...

your heart was pounding as you slowly began to organize each freshly cut vegetables into their own separate piles. as you mulled over the words, a strange sense of hope begins to fill you.

perhaps, he didn't wish to take a wife after all... he would remain single-

and you could remain by his side as his sole servant.

despite how much you knew that such rumors could end up being false, you could not stop yourself from smiling so freely. if such rumors ended up being true-

then you could forever remain by prince jinwoo's side.

before you could help the cooks add the vegetables into the large cauldron, a familiar pair of arms wrapped around your front prevents you from moving forward. you look back to see your prince gazing fondly at you, letting out a dramatic sigh as he takes you away from the kitchen.

"i feel weary and tired after discussing important matters with my father. please, prepare a bath for me and wipe the sweat away from my brow."

your heart begins to race at the thought of preparing a bath for prince jinwoo. it was true that you had prepared thousands upon thousands of baths for your prince-

however, this would be the first time he had ever asked you to stay.

shaking your head to prevent any impure thoughts from entering them, you give your prince a nod along with your words of affirmation, "y-yes, of course, my prince."

jinwoo simply hums, placing a hand behind your back as he leads you to one of the many washrooms his castle held. with graceful steps, you enter the room and expertly lit a fire within the fireplace, moving the bathtub a bit closer to the flames before going towards one of the walls.

the king had expertly hired several masons to build his castle in the most convenient way possible. you no longer had to fetch buckets upon buckets of water from the well outside of the castle as now the waters flowed into the castle. each washroom had a stone trough filled with water, and whether such a convenient invention was man-made or made through magical means, you couldn't say for sure.

all you knew was that this was simply one of the many things that made your life a bit easier.

so you spent several minutes going back and forth, filling the wooden bathtub to the brim with as much water you could manage until prince jinwoo stops you. with your back turned to him, you dropped the wooden pail back within the water filled trough, only facing him when he calls out your name.

upon hearing a tiny splash!, you had to bite back a gasp, seeing prince jinwoo's toned chest submerged within the waters as it fell back into the cobblestone floors. he lets out a purr upon feeling the waters against his skin all while beckoning you to come closer to him.

"grab that cloth while taking off your garments, my darling."

you swore that you felt your heart pounding against the confines of your throat just then, leaving you breathless when you shakily ask him, "but, why would you ever need me to take off my garments, prince jinwoo?"

he rolls his eyes, gaze darkening just the tiniest bit when he tells you huskily, "how else is my darling girl going to get into this tub to wash every inch of me?"

the hesitation and shyness was evident in your gaze and heated face, with jinwoo breaking out into a smile. "come now, you have never denied me before. are you truly denying me right now?"

letting out a shaky sigh, you even out your breath before dropping the fabric of your clothes, leaving you completely bare for your prince. with the cloth in hand, you were ready to climb into the tub had it not been for jinwoo's large hands coming around your waist, using his strength to pick you up as you entered the tub with him.

the waters splashed violently around you with your added weight, making the heat dye your cheeks even more. your lips were parted, being met with prince jinwoo's amused gaze as he lay back against the tub.

"go on, wash your prince." he tells you with a sigh, closing his eyes as he waited for you to go on with your duties.

your heart was practically a mess by now, racing so badly that it made your hands tremble in response. you place the cloth within the bathwater before gently working on cleansing jinwoo's body. his skin remained so perfect and clear, leaving you mesmerized as you could feel his powerful body pressing against your softer frame.

when the tip of your cloth touches at the corner of his lips, you were struck with a sudden urge to kiss them; to finally feel such soft fullness against your very own lips. yet somehow, even despite the situation you found yourself in (completely naked with your prince's godlike body settled beneath the waters with you), you manage to reign in your desires and ask him.

"is it true?"

jinwoo hums once more before opening an eye to look at you, "is what true, my dear?"

you look away from him, feeling jinwoo slowly wrapping his arms around your naked back when you blurt out to him, "that you called off your engagement to princess hae-in."

you felt your prince stiffen in response momentarily to the question before visibly relaxing. he proceeds to run his hands up and down your bare back before taking you within his powerful embrace.

left gaping and filled with anticipation, you felt jinwoo press a kiss against your cheek, never once straying too far from your skin as he finds your ear to whisper against them, "why yes, it is completely and utterly true. and do you know why i called off such a pointless engagement?"

you clench your eyes shut, feeling your hands become fists against jinwoo's chest, "w-why did you call it off."

a gasp was felt escaping from you when he bites down against the shell of your ear, "because a certain thief stole my heart one night five years ago; a beautiful thief that tried to rob me, but ended up obtaining my complete and utter devotion in return."

your eyes go wide when prince jinwoo suddenly surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that takes your very breath away. due to your inexperience, you kissed him back shyly, earning a smile from him.

he playfully licks at the front of your lips before moving away from you. with grey eyes shining with mirth and adoration for you, he runs a hand across your damp hair. "the moment i first saw you, seeing your steadfast gaze on me despite how i had my dagger pressed dangerously close to your throat, i knew that i had to keep you- that i had to have you."

your mind was spinning now. was this really happening? had your life truly turned into this fairytale that you did not wish to awaken from?

"oh, jinwoo...! i-i loved you, too! ever since i was subjected to your unconditional kindness, i knew that i would forever be devoted to you!"

you fall against him, allowing jinwoo to wrap his arms protectively around your frame, "i thought it would be enough to serve you for the rest of my life, b-but to actually have you as my lover, it has been my greatest dream...!"

jinwoo chuckles once more, placing a hand beneath your chin as his gaze burns a bright silver hue for you, "oh, my darling love, the dream has only just begun. for you will not simply be my lover, but my future queen and wife as well. i have made sure to claim you and you alone for that title."

your gasp was quickly swallowed by another one of jinwoo's kisses, with you practically melting against him as you both made a never-ending oath to each other-

that no matter what the future may bring, you shall always remain by his side; a devoted queen that lives to serve and love her beloved king.

a.n. - omggggg this is so self indulgent! i recently began reading a historical romance trilogy, and became so infatuated with the storytelling and writing that i had to write something for jinwoo due to my inspired state! 😭😭😭😭 my desire to write always comes to me in the dead of night, so this will definitely be posted when it's early morning where i live. this is currently unedited, but i hope you readers enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[galesleftearring]

Thinking about how sadly realistic Gale's romance arc is right now, and how in different ways this applies to each of the BG3 companions but especially his:

His whole life he's been told or felt for some reason or another that what he has to offer isn't *quite* enough. That being himself is not going to earn him love and companionship, and that those are things that he has to earn in the first place. Even his cat and his mother, who he clearly adores, have not managed to dissuade him from this.

Then he falls for this goddess; she is quite literally everything to him. She is his muse, the literal magic running through his veins. He *worships* her. And she takes his love, because it's flattering or it's there or it's something to do, and gives him very little in return. She certainly doesn't love him. She just loves the control, and he doesn't know the difference.

And then this inevitably collapses, this love built in hubris and self depreciation, and he is left feeling hopeless. Who could love him as he is when nobody else has been able to? Willing to? Surely the problem must be *him.* Surely the things he wants--companionship, adoration, reciprocity--just aren't things he can have. Or maybe they just don't exist.

Then he meets the player, and he finds himself falling again into these desires and he's scared, he's so scared, because he's now living on borrowed time and as much as he wants to give himself to Tav and have them give themselves back, why would they? Why would this person be different from every other form of love he has ever known? And on top of it all, who would want to pledge themselves to a dying man?

Monogamy isn't for everyone and that's fine but it is for him. He wants to give of himself completely and for that to be reciprocated, he wants to love deeply and truly and completely. He wants to find home in another person and give that person a home within himself. He has to wait until he's sure that he's safe, or until he's sure he's unsafe enough that it doesn't matter--his last night, at least he can die knowing he *tried,* Godsdamnit, and if he wasn't enough in life then maybe he can be enough in death.

But Tav loves him. Simple and ordinary and selfless, or incredibly selfish--not wanting him to martyr himself if they could just keep him there with them, keep loving him. They have taken the broken pieces of this man and said that those broken pieces are enough. They don't want to fix him and don't want him to fix them. They have taken his hand in theirs and given him the love that they have. No more, no less. No grand illusion, just themselves.

But he can't quite believe it, because why would he be enough now if he never has been before? So he tries to earn Tav's love, tries to give them what he *could* be, what he wants to try to be for Tav, what he'll never stop trying to be if it earns Tav's love. Love is transactional. And Tav says no, you were already enough, and I want from you what you want from me. Companionship, togetherness, just us, just me, just you. How could he believe it? How could he truly fall into this steady rhythm of everyday love?

When someone is used to transactional love, how do they learn to accept unconditional love?

[writteninlunarlight-years]

The Real Housewives of Pride

Pt 4 | Pt 6

Ladies and gentlemen, gather 'round your radios and lend me your ears, for we’re about to embark on a wild ride through the smoky alleys of Hell, where time flies faster than a jazz tune on a Saturday night!

Oh, the delightful debauchery of our dear companions has reached a fever pitch, and as my charming friend Rosie would say, they're letting their freak flags soar high! Confessions of shadowy pasts and tantalizing secrets are swirling about.

Take Mrs. Charlotte, for instance—swayed and enchanted by her own romantic whimsy! And then there’s Camilla, chiming in with her own musings about dear Zestial, while Y/N, our fearless protagonist, reminds everyone of Lucifer’s rather unique talents.

And let’s not forget the Vee’s stirring the pot, revealing why Vox reigns supreme in the tech realm—he’s got a few skeletons in his closet and a penchant for mischief, while Valentino seems to be spinning tales in their tangled web of romance.

Then there’s our bold Y/N, who once scorned this very app but has now ascended to its throne, igniting Lucifer's antics like a match to kindling! What a transformation, my friends!

But amidst the chaos, it’s heartwarming to see the overlords come together for a moment of camaraderie, lamenting the state of our wicked world. I must say, Velvette’s sentiments resonate with me, for the womb indeed has been the source of my own trials and tribulations!

So, until next time, my darlings, when we dive back into the delightful drama of ‘The Real Housewives of Pride’

Disclaimer: All 'tweets' are fake and made by me. The words/tweets I do are a combination of my own and ones I find on Pinterest and Ifunny. If you know the actual creators or those who made some jokes, please DM me so I can credit them. Thank you!

[queers-gambit]

The Black Dread part three

prompt: after word is sent for Dragonseeds to raise up, you shockingly claim The Black Dread. knowing your stance would all but determine the war, both Alicent and Rhaenyra send emissaries to persuade your allegiance through means of marriage. when tragedy strikes, you fly to war. -> in this part - you and Aemond get to know one another.

pairing: Jacaerys 'Jace' Velaryon x female!Tyrell!reader pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!Tyrell!reader -> hair color specified reader -> technically Targaryen!reader -> ALL characters aged 18+

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

series masterlist:The Black Dread < < < previous part, part two: read here > > > next part, part four: read here

word count: 4k+

note: ALL characters are aged up - they are NOT minors

warnings: it's not much!!! cursing, ye ol’ flirting without chaperones, temptation / feelings are hard, romance, small angst, eavesdropping, men being gossipy little cunts who talk shit, broken family dynamics, we see a little more into big!sister!reader, depiction of medical phenomenons to a child.

Monday -

Eyme had been your lady's maid for years now, to the point the pair of you had formed an intimate relationship. Granted, Alora had been your closest companion since childhood, Eyme was close to an additional guardian; a kind and sweet soul that helped guide you through life. This mornings, she stood behind you, brushing your hair, watching you in the vanity mirror as you could not hide the deepening thoughts that melted your brain.

Even if not so obvious, she could read you like a book.

"You ready for today, dearie?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, as I'll ever be," you mused, finding her gaze over your shoulder.

"Who is it you'll see today?"

"Prince Aemond. It's strange, you know? Picking between two Princes of the Realm when I was run out and humiliated during courting seasons at the Red Keep. What a rush, finding a husband the old fashion way; by being a bargaining chip in war," you mocked with a roll of your eyes.

She chuckled, securing the long, golden-red tresses, "No, the Gods were saving you for this moment. You'll turn the tides, my darling, in this war, in history, in the Targaryen lineage - "

"What does that mean?"

Eyme sighed, "We both know the rumors, darling girl. About the Black Queen's sons?"

You waved her off, "Oh, that's petty business - not our own."

"I'm just saying, you will change a lot of fates with your choice between the Princes."

"That's pressure I never imagined."

"You will make a handsome match to either," she assured softly. Eyme tied off your hair, fixed minimal make-up over your skin, and helped you dress in something comfortable with sensible shoes. Just outside your door, your usual household guardsman, Bryer, escorted you to your father's old office chambers to go over accounts for the day with Maester Keiff Foral.

It was there Aemond found you.

"I do not mean to interrupt," the Prince stopped short in the doorway, "I was a bit turned around - I can leave, if you could direct me - "

"No need, my Prince, please, come in," Maester Foral insisted, taking up several tomes and scrolls. "I'm on my way out, please sit. Could I send some tea up?"

"That would be nice, thank you, Maester," you agreed, shuffling a few accounts on the grand desk you sat at. "My Prince, I must apologize, unfortunately, being Lady of the House does not come with days off."

He hummed, "I understand that. Is now a bad time, my Lady?"

"No, you are most welcomed," you gestured him forward. "I need but a few moments to clean this up - "

"Take your time," Aemond smirked gently. "I had an idea, in fact, that might be of interest? Since you're in this clerical mindset?"

"Oh? I would like to hear it."

"Would you say you are proficient in High Valyrian? Being a Dragon Rider and all?"

You chuckled dryly, nodding, "Uh, well, no, I only know but a few words, and even those, I murder the pronunciation."

"Would you like to learn?"

"I need to," you nodded, "but it is also a personal desire of mine, yes."

"Is it too forward to ask if I could interest you in but a few lessons?"

There was a knock at the door as you left paperweights on the few stacks of parchment you had been reviewing, calling, "Come in!"

"My Lady," Eyme spoke softly, entering with a tray of tea, "Maester Foral sent me."

"Thank you, Eyme. But I think we might take this in the library, yes?" You asked Aemond, standing from your seat.

"Yes, if that's acceptable," he nodded, following your lead.

"Oh?" Eyme asked, scurrying out the door when Aemond held it open for you both.

"The Prince is kind enough to offer me lessons in High Valyrian."

"How nice," Eyme complimented, leading the way down the corridors. "Gods know you could use the lessons, she sounds like a drowning cat, my Prince - "

"I do not!"

"You have the attention span of a passing squirrel! It'd be a miracle if you could focus!"

Aemond found your relationship with 'the help' strangely cozy, something he wasn't sure how to feel about. He did not comment and instead smiled politely, but mostly just listened to the two of you bicker lovingly and wondering what kind of Princess of the Realm would speak so candidly to the commoners. The One-Eyed Prince reminded himself that the Tyrells weren't prominent in court and still considered 'low born', trying to cut you some slack when he accounted for your lack of royal decorum.

In the library, Aemond's nose turned up ever so slightly at the - by comparison to that of the Red Keep - minuscule space and minimal literary options. You and Eyme set up the tea at a table as he browsed the limited selection, doing his best not to literally pet a finger over the wood and through the dust. He heard you dismiss your handmaiden and asked over his shoulder, "Are you sure about these lessons, my Lady?"

"Why would I not be, my Prince? I ride a Dragon of Old Valyria, do I not?" You quipped.

"Yes, but it would appear your selection is vastly... Limited," he frowned, gesturing at the shelf he inspected. "It would seem you do not have... Anything on the subject at all."

"I've already pulled the literature," you told him smugly, his hair fanning around his shoulders as he turned to look at you in what appeared to be surprise. He discovered your fists on the table, candles arrayed for ample lighting, and stacks of books spaced out around you, the teapot, and cups.

"I see," He smirked in return, making his way back towards the table. "Is there a reason you've already arranged them?"

"In truth, I might be one of the few who frequents the library anymore," you shrugged, gesturing him to a seat. "And with my new acquaintanceship with Balerion, I've been the only one with need to refresh their memory on the histories of Valyria."

Aemond hummed and gazed over the spines of the books, nodding before making a selection. "I'm familiar with this volume. It's a good introduction," he opened the book with a rickety spine.

"That's been read," you eased, pointing to the pile he chose from, "those have all been read, actually."

"Very good," he nodded, storing his selection and turning for the other pile. You realized how much you liked his praise. "Anything you wish to disclose before we dive in?" The Prince distracted your rampant thoughts.

"I'm familiar with the histories, it's the language and pronunciations that I struggle with."

"It's not a language for the faint of heart."

"So I've discovered. I've oft heard it said immersion is the best educator, yet none in these parts can speak enough for me to practice with."

Aemond nodded, "Well... Should you choose to return with me to King's Landing, there's plenty to practice with."

"Oh?" You chuckled.

"Well... At least there's me," he purred, making a new selection and pulling the book closer. "Here we are," Aemond opened it, careful of the fragile pages. "This is good for what you need to know with Balerion."

You leaned forward on the table, smiling gently and listening intently; following his finger over the inked words on parchment as he began his lesson. In the candlelight, shadows contoured his face in an eerily handsome cast.

Wednesday -

It was difficult to remain so unbiased when both Princes were bringing their A-game; and it seemed, Aemond honed in on your lack of Targaryen experience to romance you with your birthrights. On Monday, Aemond had spent hours with you in the library, pouring over old tomes; patient in his lesson, trying to ensure you knew basic and important commands for when riding Balerion. And now, he was ushering you off the Keep's grounds to where the dragons were planted outside the gates.

"I must confess, I'm a bit nervous. Where are we going?" You laughed gently, the ground still slippery from early morning dew.

"For a flying lesson."

"Oh, no, no - I've only rode once and I'm fairly certain I blacked out for most of it."

"I can see why," Aemond mused, approaching the great ebony beast resting in the valley, "you don't even have a saddle, what terrible discomfort."

"Oh, well, I've sent ravens to King's Landing, asking any saddlery of his left be sent."

"Good," he praised, petting over the hand you had curled around his bicep. "He's... Larger than I would've imagined."

"He's a sweetie - " And of course, in that moment, Balerion lifted his head and bared his teeth in warning. You yanked Aemond to a halt, "But also conversationally temperamental."

"I was merely curious to see him with my own eyes," Aemond admitted. "He's greatly impressive."

You smiled, "Gorgeous, no?"

"I'd say."

"Did we come all this way to gawk at him, or...?"

"No, no," Aemond cleared his throat, "I thought perhaps I could tempt you into a flight on Vhagar. She's the closest thing in size and speed to Balerion, thought it might be good practice."

"You mean...?"

"By yourself? No, no, I'll be there, but yes, you'll need to know how to fly."

"I'm sure I could figure it out. Right?"

"If you'd like to take the chance," he agreed.

"All right," you took a breath and exhaled deeply. "All right, yeah, sure, let's do it." Balerion growled again, his eyes ablaze like the fire brewing in his chest; snorting in warning. In High Valyrian, you called, "Be calm, my friend."

"He's very protective of you," Aemond noted.

"As he should be," you smirked. You told your dragon, "We're visiting with Vhagar, be still. We'll be back."

After The Black Dread grumbled and lowered his head, the Prince offered his arm, "Right this way, Lady Tyrell."

You chuckled and let Aemond lead you upward, Balerion's growl vibrating the ground you ascended to hike out of the crater. You made idle chitchat as you walked, learning about his family unit and his influence in this war - but he seemed to shut down around that subject, so, you steered away.

Vhagar was impressive in size, but in earnest, a fraction of your beast. She was a sleepy old lady, Aemond rousing her with words you now understood and repeated after him - per his direction. You laughed, "You're a thorough educator."

"You're a dedicated student."

Sharing a smile, you watched him encourage his dragon into consciousness; telling her they were going for a fly and to behave. Carefully, Aemond showed you how to climb the rope ladder to mount Vhagar's saddle, giving a small but genuine chuckle when you teetered for balance and he needed to stabilize you. Together, with Aemond sat close behind you, showed you the ways in which a Targaryen Dragon Rider could control and hold onto their mount. He latched you to the saddle for safety and then himself; pressed so close, it was surely indecent.

Before anything could be said, Aemond was encouraging Vhagar to her feet. "Gods be fucking good!" You yelped at the sensation, grabbing onto the arm Aemond anchored your waist with. "Oh, fuck, okay, yeah, all right, this is fine," you muttered, nodding as you forced yourself to get used to the fact that you were a Dragon Rider now - an elite group amongst those who even ruled the Realm.

"You're all right," Aemond muttered in your ear. "I've got'yah." You gulped a little when Vhagar shook out her sleepy hide. "Ready?" He asked, repeating himself in High Valyrian.

You agreed in the same Tongue, "Ready."

Within moments, Vhagar was taking off over the grounds and into the air. You gasped shrilly and held on where Aemond placed your hands, trying to remember what he taught you - but every rational thought was out of your head in that moment. "Open your eyes," Aemond chuckled, hot breath fanning your neck and cheek, "a Dragon Rider must be alert at all times, open your eyes, my Lady."

"Oh, this is fucking scary," you breathed, doing as he said and letting your eyes pop open.

"What a mouth on you," he teased.

"We're in the bloody air! There's no place for decency up here!" You squealed, calming down enough to pant lightly and take in the sights around you. "Oh, wow... Wow, would you look at this..."

"Gorgeous, no?" He teased your words from earlier.

"Just - wow," you could only answer, Vhagar leveling out to flap her wings lazily.

"Vhagar," he commanded in High Valyrian, "higher."

You held onto the saddle as the dragon soared into the clouds, making you giggle a little from the strange sensation of flying through them; Aemond smiling against the shell of your ear. When you broke the seam of clouds, the sun was rising at the perfect moment to give you a shining display of brilliant blues, pinks, oranges, and yellows all painted in the sky and clouds.

"Hold here," Aemond instructed through the flight. "Lean left." "Lean back." "The dragon and rider must bond, they'll take verbal command." "Use this reign when in a fight - this one for altitude - hold here for casual cruising."

You soaked up his words like a sponge.

"Remember to breathe," his words tickled your ear, large hand splayed on your waist. "Keep your heels down, planted - like a horse, good, good, that's good."

Your head turned to watch his other hand 'check' your legs, ensuring they were in the right position on the saddle. When his gaze lifted, it was almost too natural for your foreheads too meet and press together. "It's improper..." You whispered, "But I feel the innate desire to kiss you, I think."

"Perhaps it's only improper beneath the clouds. There's no place for decency up here, right?"

You chuckled, "Right, but it's still improper of me as an unmarried lady no matter if above or below the clouds. I will resist, I'm sorry for voicing such desires."

"Don't apologize," he whispered, both content to simply be for a moment, "it's something I want to do as well."

"Looks like we're both being tempted," you tisked, pulling back. "Can I ask you a serious question?"

"Of course."

"What does life look like if your side is victorious in this war?"

Aemond pondered for a moment, offering, "I cannot say. Though, my brother is but a puppet."

"And you the master?"

"Amongst others, I suppose," He admitted, though it stuck in your mind. "Though, I suppose, life would be simple enough with Aegon on the Throne - there'd be no further challenge to his seat. We would live as comfortably as possible."

You hummed and decided to test your new knowledge. Picking up the right rope-reign, you commanded in High Valyrian, "Back to the Keep, Vhagar."

"Very good," Aemond chuckled, then repeating your command - as his dragon didn't listen to anyone other than him. Once on the ground, Aemond walked you through proper landing skills and then the dismount by unhooking all belts and climbing off the rope ladder.

Once safely away from his dragon, you chuckled, "Is it like that every time?"

"Like what, my Lady?"

"The rush? The adrenaline?"

"I'll let you know if it ever wears off."

You were beginning to think you'd have to 'let him know' if your budding affection for him ever began to 'wear off'. The One-Eyed Prince escorted you back into the Keep.

Saturday -

The Tullys House words were, "Family, Duty, Honor," and while you were a Tyrell and Targaryen, you held these words dear to your chest. You would always place your family above your duty and honor; your duty above yourself.

The night prior, your little brother began showing signs that he was starting an "episode", the kind term to his "fits". It worried you, but there was little to be done for now; so you told the staff to alert you to any changes he might have. You had plans to see Aemond one last time, so you left them directions on where to find you.

You were exhausted by the week's events; where your duties didn't stop, you were entertaining the Princes, and playing mother to a child not yours - though, that, you wouldn't give up or exchange for the world.

Still, you made an effort to visit with the Princes after their effort to travel to Highgarden.

Family. Duty. Honor.

So, the pair of you met in the lush gardens of your home, showing the Prince the vast array of different vegetation your family could boast. You spoke of little things from your youth to aspirations later in life; from favorite foods to how war might affect your marriage. All good things, all proper logistics needed considered before committing to lifelong matrimony. The peace shattered when Eyme came sprinting through the gardens, "My Lady! My Lady!"

"We're here," You turned immediately, Aemond's brow furrowing. "What is it?" You demanded when the handmaiden was within sight.

"It's - It's Ryden, my Lady, it's your brother - "

"I have to go, I'm so sorry," you bid Aemond, patting his arm as you disentangled yours from his. "I'm so sorry, my Prince, but my brother needs me. Please, en-enjoy the gardens! The fruits are edible, you must try them! I'm so sorry, again!"

He didn't get to answer as you intercepted Eyme and started up the path she had come barreling down. Aemond stood there, dumbfounded, blinking in shock before scoffing gently. He didn't even remember hearing what the problem was, only that it was something with your brother - then you were leaving. Without a thought, no other information requested. Aemond found this response dramatic as he returned to his guest chambers.

Later that evening, when your brother was safe in bed and under the watchful eye of Maester Keiff Foral, you decided you owed Prince Aemond an apology and explanation. You decided to seek him out in his guest chambers, sending for a reserve of sweet Dornish wine; approaching the cracked door when voices spilled into the hall in an echo.

Unfamiliar booming laughter accused, "Perhaps the Tyrells have taken a page from the Targaryens! And they love one another deeply! Too deeply!"

"Oh, please," Aemond was heard, "it was more panic than anything. It begs the question why she is caring for a child not her own? Am I foolish to think the Lady's reaction was extreme? Dramatic?"

"No, it sounds as if it was," the voice of Aemond's household guardsman, Criston Cole, was heard - possibly indicating the two were alone. "But women usually are, my friend. Why would the Lady Tyrell be different?"

"Her beauty might give her a pass," Aemond mused, "though, little else. Should hear the way she speaks to the castle staff, Cole, it's as if they're friends."

"Once she's out of her element, she'll calm down and depend on you, my Prince, she'll come to follow the rules. Then, I suppose all that's left is to thank the Targaryen whores for such a pretty bride," Cole snickered.

"How's that?"

You were repulsed by what you were hearing yet could not walk away, intrigue rooting your feet.

"You heard your mother," Cole lamented in amusement, "the Vanished Princess was granddaughter of Old King Jaehaerys, sister of the Queen Who Never Was."

"Mhm," Aemond agreed.

"She broke off her engagement to a Northern Lord, married some Tyrell instead, and was overlooked in favor of Viserys. But before that, she was disinherited and became a whore, all promiscuous and rebellious. At least Lord Tyrell managed to wrangle her in, right? Saddle such a ridden filly?"

"Unless you believe the rumors that say the Vanished Princess was pregnant already and Lord Tyrell raised the bastard as his own out of the goodness of his heart. Or that he was infertile, a eunuch, the rumors are vast - "

Cole cut Aemond off, "It still gives Lady Tyrell Dragon Blood, and we need her dragon, my Prince. So, bastard or not, we need Balerion on our side, it's in the Realm's best interest you cast aside your prejudice and conclude romancing her."

"She makes her decision tomorrow."

"So go to her tonight."

Your face pulled in a look of disgust, stepping back a few steps and loudly approaching. You knocked heavily on the door, letting it swing open further to reveal yourself to the two scheming bastards. Your hand discreetly held up to halt Eyme before she was in view, intercepting the decanter of Dornish wine before it could be delivered.

"My Lady," Cole jumped to his feet.

"No, please, don't get up, I will not be long," You spoke diplomatically, waving the guardsman back to his seat. "I merely wished to offer my apologies to the Prince again, explain what caused me to leave in such a dramatic fashion."

The two didn't seem to pick up on your choice of words.

"As most of the Realm knows, my father has been sickly for quite sometime and as his firstborn, his responsibilities fall unto me. My father is now fully disabled and bound to a bed, but for years, he's been friendly with Death. He's not long for this world, and without our mother, I am all my brother has. He's just a boy of 10, named Ryden. When he was about 7, he fell from a tree and hit his head, where now, he suffers from some affliction that gives him what we call 'episodes' or 'fits'. Any could be his last and it takes a team to pull him out of them. I apologize for my abrupt departure earlier, my Prince, but Ryden began having symptoms last night and I knew today could get bad; so I wanted to be there - since he has nobody else."

Family. Duty. Honor.

"Oh," Aemond blinked, slowly standing from his seat, "no, no, my Lady, please, do not apologize. Is your brother all right?"

"I appreciate the concern - yes, he's all right now. I have assigned a trusted few to the nightshift in preparation for the morrow. I trust your company will be present?"

"Of course," Cole agreed, looking rightfully shellshocked.

"Right. Then, goodnight, I shall see you both tomorrow afternoon."

Aemond might've opened his mouth to stop you, but you were rushing from the room and shutting the chamber door with a loud, reverberating clang. It was your silent way of saying, 'That's how you close a fucking door!'

You seethed against the wood for a moment, feeling your lip authentically twitch in pure rage; movement catching in your peripheral and alerting you to another presence.

It was Eyme, still holding the wine.

Swiftly, you lifted a silencing finger to your lips and ushered her back several feet. She followed suit, hustling along your side when you changed direction to head for your chambers instead. You were huffing and puffing with exertion when you reached your private salvation, facing Eyme in anguish as tears filled your eyes.

"What did I miss?" She asked softly.

"Much I care not to repeat."

"If you do to me, you need not to anyone else."

You mulled over her words, nodding along. "You knew my mother, didn't you, Eyme?" You asked instead.

Your handmaiden set the wine to a table and sighed, "Aye, I did. I adored the woman, we knew one another in youth and she brought me here when she married your father."

"Would you pour a glass?"

She nodded and did as bid, handing you the chalice; pausing, then pouring her own. Eyme deflated into one of your armchairs, asking, "Why do you ask, poppet?"

You gulped about half the wine, swallowing bitterly. "I think I wish to address rumors of her... I know what I wish to say, would you help me write it out? Tell me what I missed?"

"What brought this on? What did you hear Prince Aemond say?"

"For that, we'll need more wine," you muttered, going to open your door to flag a passing maid as Eyme gathered parchment and a quill with ink.

It was a long, sleepless night.

< < < previous part, part two: read here

> > > next part, part four: read here

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

The Black Dread series masterlist

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

masterpost

a list of my haikaveh meta in one place!

The Haikaveh Essay - Genshin Impact and Queercoding: Identifying Queercoding in Alhaitham and Kaveh's relationship, 55k (Latest update: 15/07/2024) - Medium - PDF

Masterpost series of Alhaitham being endeared by Kaveh - Part 1 - The Archon Quest - Part 2 - A Parade of Providence - Part 3 - Kaveh's Hangout - Part 4 - Alhaitham's Story Quest - Bonus: Alhaitham being intolerable for attention - Bonus pt 2: Alhaitham being a romantic through actions

The Archon Quest - Camera angles: establishing Kaveh's importance to Alhaitham - The Archon Quest as a metaphor for Alhaitham and Kaveh's relationship + the resolution in Cyno's Story Quest

A Parade of Providence - The ultimate analysis of how A Parade of Providence changes Alhaitham and Kaveh's relationship - Miscommunication and misunderstanding: a call for change - <ask> Kaveh's reaction to The Traveller vs Alhaitham

Cyno Story Quest II - General Thoughts (Haikaveh/Cynonari) - The Improvement in Alhaitham and Kaveh's Relationship - Kaveh referring to Alhaitham's house as 'Home' and its significance - Reconciliation: Parallels between Alhaitham and Kaveh's research on The Temple of Silence and their abandoned thesis - Looking into the mirror: The balancing of Alhaitham and Kaveh's opposing viewpoints - The parallels between Alhaitham and Kaveh and Naphis and Cyrus - 'The Dead Past is the Living Present' quest title and its connection to Alhaitham and Kaveh - Analysing Alhaitham and Kaveh's body language in A Parade of Providence compared to Cyno's Story Quest II

An Odd Textual Mystery - Overall thoughts [Part 1] - Overall thoughts (analysis of the final scene with Alhaitham and Kaveh) [Part 2] - Alhaitham's curiosity around Kaveh being the catalyst for the event - How the event can relate to Alhaitham and Kaveh's past thesis - <ask> The further progression of Alhaitham and Kaveh's relationship

Miscommunication - Alhaitham's manner of expression - Port Ormos Bulletin Board analysis - The Omissions in Alhaitham's Character Stories - Alhaitham's Egoism in relation to Kaveh - Alhaitham and Kaveh's argument - <ask> Alhaitham and Kaveh complaining about each other and fandom misconception - <ask> Kaveh and Alhaitham's differing philosophies founding their friendship

Queercoding - The Double Entendre of 'Roommates': Madam Faruzan - Parallels Between Kaveh and His Mother: Companionship and Romance - Pride and Prejudice: Alhaitham's Story Quest in Relation to Kaveh - Alhaitham and Kaveh - not 'friends' but 'roommates'

Sumeru Bulletin Board Analyses - Mahamata Bulletin Board - Puspa's Cafe Message Board - Port Ormos Bulletin Board (revamped)

'Home' - Alhaitham as Kaveh's 'home' - Alhaitham and Kaveh As Each Other's Home and Family - <ask> Alhaitham and Kaveh as found family pre and post argument

Alhaitham's Birthday 2024 - Birthday art musings - Lack of Kaveh mention musings

Kaveh's Birthday 2023 - Kaveh's letter: Home and Alhaitham

Other things of interest - <ask> Kaveh's Hangout: The implications of Cyrus knowing both Kaveh's and Alhaitham's parents - <ask> Alhaitham buying wine for Kaveh as an apology - <ask> Alhaitham and Kaveh as Teapot companions: similarities and differences