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scarletttries · 1 day ago

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Baldur's Gate 3 Companions With a Shy GN!Reader...(Baldur's Gate 3 Request)

Request: " Can I request for Baldur's Gate 3 companions with shy gender neutral s/o please?"

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who sent in requests and has been reblogging my Baldur's Gate posts! Consider me open for any BG3 requests, let me know if you want to see more headcanons like this :)

Astarion:

- At first Astarion would find it hard to reconcile your shyness with his understanding of the way people behave. He would be suspicious of you initially, wondering why you insist on playing your cards so close to your chest. It wouldn't be until you finally warmed up to him and started to talk a bit more that he realised that this quiet tone to you is actually very endearing to him.

- When you two get together he would feel very proud to be the person you speak to the most. Astarion can be a little insecure sometimes so knowing that you choose to talk to him despite being selective with who you speak to would mean a lot to him. It would help him to trust you more too, knowing the the deep bond between you is almost a secret that you would never dare whisper to anyone else.

- Astarion loves being able to communicate with you with just a sly glance or a single whispered word, the two of you often having entire conversations without saying a word to those around you. When you need to talk your way into somewhere Astarion's always happy to do the talking, but he can't help but be impressed with the way you can navigate through a room quiet and unnoticed.

- As a partner Astarion needs more reassurance than he ever likes to show, so knowing that you'll go against your shy instincts to whisper a flirty thought or a sentimental memory to him when he starts to look worn out always boosts his spirits. He didn't know how much he needed someone just like you in his life until you became a core part of it.

Wyll:

- Wyll never shies away from the public or a spotlight, announcing himself as he enters almost any room, so when he meets someone who prefers to listen to those around them instead of interrupting, he'd become very interested in what you have to say. He'd make the effort to get to know you even if it didn't happen as naturally as sometimes other bonds have come to him, but as he worked to gain your trust and attention he'd never regret a moment of time spent getting you to warm up to him.

- When the two of you are together Wyll will never miss an opportunity to sing your praises, no matter how bashful it makes you! He needs you to know how amazing and appreciated you are, as he can never tell if you fully recognise your own brilliance.

- Wyll falls in love with the way you think before you speak, listening to every part of his story and really considering everything he tells you, never jumping to an assumption as so many people in his life have. He finds your accepting nature makes him a better man, and in return he only grows a deeper fondness for the way you carry yourself.

- As a partner Wyll always needs someone to be there for him, listening and reassuring, and he really finds that partner in you. He's never felt more loved and respected as he does when you give him the time and space to work through his feelings and history, the quiet stillness you bring to his life letting him find a peace he's never known before.

Gale:

- Gale has spent enough time studying magic at scholarly institutes to have met more than a few shy souls in his past, so when he notices you playing the shrinking violet he knows exactly how to give you all the time and space you need to finally share a bit of yourself with him.

- He knows that the most important things to hear usually come from those who don't speak unless they have something to say, and there's no exception to that in you. He really gives weight to everything you share with him, every opinion you pose, and every compliment you reward him with through flushed cheeks and nervous laughter. It only makes it that much sweeter that you don't dish out such comments absentmindedly.

- Gale also enjoys using a bit of your shyness against you, gaining a certain amount of satisfaction from being overtly flirty in public once the two of you are well into dating. He can't help but smile at the way you shy away from his loud declarations of love and the flirty comments whispered far too loudly across a tavern. His heart practically bursts when you try to hide your face in his hands when he's being far too vocal about how beautiful he finds you in front of the rest of your companions, and not a day goes by that he doesn't remind you of that fact.

- Thankfully he usually waits until you are alone to let his adoration pour out in his gentle words and touches, enjoying that while he can be a brash as he wants in public, he can feel your true appreciation in the quiet you spend alone. His life has held more than one dramatic chapter, so having someone who loves him so sweetly and mutters his name so softly when they praise him really means the world to Gale.

Shadowheart:

- More than anyone else, Shadowheart can appreciate the desire to keep parts of yourself hidden behind some firmly closed doors. She finds herself drawn to your quiet personality as the rest of the party are a bit boisterous for her taste, often favouring the seat beside you at any given campfire, knowing her boundaries will be respected, and any conversation made will be worthwhile.

- Once you two are together, she sees you as a respite from the endless questions of the outside world. The two of you can spend hours in comfortable silence together, only your interlocking fingers letting the other know you are still there. You give her the space to think through her decisions, but at the same time she knows that if you choose to speak up then she really should consider listening to what you have to say.

- Shadowheart finds herself more able to share pieces of herself with you, as you open up at the same gradual pace that she does. You don't rush to tell her everything or bombard her with questions like the others. Instead she'll often finding you waiting outside her tent at first light when she rises, offering her a hand for a quiet stroll through the forest as you softly tell her a tale from your childhood and she tries to imagine herself growing up alongside you, in a sweet version of her life she could almost convince herself is the truth.

- Shadowheart doesn't fully know her past, but with you as her partner, her future finally starts to come into focus, all because of you.

Karlach:

- Karlach has been loud and brash since the moment she could speak, so at first she thinks your shy demeanour is a sign of rejection of her friendship. It's disappointing that you don't want to talk to her, but she's not sensitive enough to worry about what every single person thinks of her. It would be endlessly frustrating to you that you have to really put yourself out there, making every effort to be by her side and forcing yourself to respond to her every remark to try and let her know you really do like her. In the end you'd just have to ask her to dance at a celebration with the rest of the group, and when she laughs and says she thought you didn't like her, please prepare yourself to tell her you like her so much that it makes it genuinely hard to talk sometimes.

- Once Karlach understands the concept of shyness and that it is not a personal affront to her, she will be very happy to do all the speaking for both of you. Every journey you take across the lands she will gladly fill the silence with every thought and tale, celebrating loudly every times she manages to make you gasp or laugh along with her.

- Karlach will take a lot of pride in the thought that you like her so much that you are almost rendered speechless, and get quite jealous when she realises you are being shy around other people too. Worried that everyone will be seduced by your strong-silent type behaviour she would definitely insist on holding your hand as much as possible, or loudly shouting across combat that you and her are an item just in case anyone was getting the wrong idea.

- While your personality might have started as a bit of a mystery to Karlach, once you two really know each other she'll come to highly value your way of carrying yourself, learning a few things about protecting herself from undue influences, while keeping herself open to the important people in her life, like you!

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novaursa · 2 days ago

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The Second Daughter (by his side)

- Summary: You were born as a second daughter under the watchful eye of a full moon. And just like the moon you were beautiful—and cursed to exist only in the dark.

- Paring: targ!reader/Jason Lannsiter

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: hope

- Next part: what we were

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @l3thal-l0lita @ninihrtss @barnes70stark

The vast halls of Casterly Rock hummed with activity. Servants rushed to and fro, polishing every surface until it gleamed and arranging tapestries that had been freshly cleaned to ensure not a speck of dust lingered. The smell of roasted meats and freshly baked bread wafted from the kitchens, and the air buzzed with anticipation as the Lannister household prepared to host the King and his family.

Jason Lannister stood in the great hall, his green eyes scanning every detail with a critical gaze. He ran a hand over the edge of the grand table, ensuring it was free of imperfections. The arrangements were nearly perfect, yet he felt the need to double-check every corner of his domain.

Behind him, the familiar sound of Tyland’s boots echoed against the stone floor. “Brother,�� Tyland said, his tone light with amusement, “you’re pacing like a caged lion. I’ve never seen you so intent on perfection. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Jason straightened, turning to face his younger twin with a raised brow. “If the King is to visit Casterly Rock, then everything must be as it should be.”

Tyland smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against a pillar. “Ah, yes, the King,” he said, drawing out the words with a teasing lilt. “And, of course, his daughter. Don’t tell me all this fuss has nothing to do with her.”

Jason’s expression tightened, though he refused to rise to the bait. “This visit is an honor for our house,” he replied evenly. “I would ensure it reflects that.”

Tyland chuckled, clearly unconvinced. “Come now, Jason. You’re overseeing every detail as if your life depends on it. You and I both know she won’t see the tapestries or the polished floors, no matter how much effort you put into them.”

Jason’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he said nothing. Finally, he turned to face his brother fully, his voice low but steady. “You don’t understand what this means, Tyland. She may not see the hall or the gold we polish, but she will feel the care that went into it. She’ll know it was done with intention, for her family and for her.”

Tyland’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by something more thoughtful. “You’ve truly fallen for her, haven’t you?” he asked, his tone quieter now.

Jason exhaled sharply, his green eyes narrowing as he turned back to inspect the hall. “What I feel doesn’t matter,” he said finally. “Not in the way you think. This is about respect. About showing her, and her family, that Casterly Rock is more than stone and gold.”

Tyland’s brow furrowed as he studied his brother. “You speak as if she’s already agreed to something.”

“She hasn’t,” Jason admitted, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. “And perhaps she never will. But if she sets foot in this hall, she’ll know that I care. That I see her for who she is, not for what others might dismiss.”

Tyland was silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on Jason’s face. Finally, he sighed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’ve always been the stubborn one, Jason,” he said. “But I suppose that’s why you’ve always been the better twin.”

Jason allowed himself a faint smile, though he didn’t look at his brother. “Flattery doesn’t suit you, Tyland.”

“No, but truth does,” Tyland replied, pushing off the pillar. “If you’re going to win more of her favor, then at least make sure the wine is good. It’s the one thing the King and his daughter will both appreciate.”

Jason chuckled softly, shaking his head as Tyland walked away. For all his brother’s teasing, there was a kernel of truth in his words. This visit wasn’t just about hospitality—it was about showing you the depth of his feelings in a way words could not.

He turned his attention back to the preparations, his resolve firm. The great hall would be ready. The feast would be flawless. And when you arrived, Jason vowed, you would know that Casterly Rock had been made ready not just for the King, but for you.

The light of late afternoon bathed the towering walls of Casterly Rock as a faint horn sounded from the outer gate. The sound was quickly followed by the rapid approach of hoofbeats echoing through the vast courtyards. Servants paused in their duties, their heads turning toward the commotion, while Jason Lannister, standing on the balcony overlooking the main courtyard, narrowed his eyes at the approaching rider.

The gates swung open, revealing a single horseman clad in the royal colors of House Targaryen—black and red. The messenger’s tunic bore the unmistakable three-headed dragon, and the rider sat tall and proud in his saddle. Dust kicked up from the well-trodden path as the man slowed his steed and came to a stop at the center of the courtyard.

Jason descended the stone steps with purposeful strides, his crimson-and-gold cloak billowing behind him. Tyland followed at a more leisurely pace, his smirk ever-present as he observed the unfolding scene.

The messenger dismounted swiftly, bowing deeply as Jason approached. “Lord Jason Lannister,” the man said, his voice clear and formal. “I bring word from His Grace, King Viserys I Targaryen.”

Jason inclined his head, his expression calm but attentive. “Speak,” he commanded, his voice carrying the authority of the Lord of Casterly Rock.

The messenger straightened, producing a scroll sealed with the royal crest. “His Grace wishes to inform you that the royal procession will arrive at Casterly Rock within three days’ time. The King, along with his family and retinue, eagerly anticipates your hospitality.”

Jason took the scroll, breaking the seal with a deliberate motion. His green eyes studied the neatly written script, though his features betrayed no emotion. When he finished, he nodded and handed the parchment to one of his attendants.

“You have ridden far,” Jason said, his tone even. “See that this man is provided with food and rest,” he instructed his steward. Turning back to the messenger, he added, “Convey to His Grace that Casterly Rock stands ready to receive him.”

The messenger bowed again. “I shall return to the royal party with your reply, my lord.”

Before the rider had his horse taken by a servant, Tyland stepped forward, his ever-present grin widening. “Three days,” he said, addressing his brother. “That leaves just enough time to polish the gold one more time, doesn’t it?”

Jason shot him a sidelong glance. “If you have nothing useful to say, Tyland, I suggest you make yourself scarce.”

Tyland laughed, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Oh, come now, Jason. Don’t tell me you’re not excited. The King himself, under your roof. And of course… her.”

Jason’s gaze sharpened, but he chose not to rise to the bait. Instead, he turned back toward the Keep, his mind already racing through the final preparations.

“Ensure that every detail is seen to,” Jason ordered the steward at his side. “The feast, the accommodations, the stables—everything must be perfect.”

The steward nodded, hastening to relay the orders to the household staff. Tyland watched with a bemused expression, his arms crossed as he leaned casually against a pillar.

“You’re relentless,” Tyland said, his tone teasing. “But I’ll admit, I’ve never seen you like this before. Perhaps the Targaryens truly have worked some magic on you.”

Jason ignored him, his focus unwavering. “The King and his family deserve nothing less than our finest.”

“And the Princess?” Tyland pressed, his voice dropping slightly. “What does she deserve?”

Jason paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he turned to face his brother. “She deserves to see—no, to feel—that this is a place where she could belong.”

Tyland’s smirk softened, though his tone remained light. “Well, let’s hope she feels it, then. Otherwise, all this effort will be wasted.”

Jason said nothing, his gaze drifting toward the horizon as the sun began to set. The arrival of the royal procession was imminent, and with it, the chance to prove that Casterly Rock could be more than just a fortress. It could be a home. For her.

Jason lingered for a moment longer, the weight of his own hopes pressing against his chest. Three days. That was all the time he had to ensure that everything was perfect.

The royal carriage swayed gently as it rolled along the winding road toward Casterly Rock. Inside, the air was filled with the hushed giggles of your ladies-in-waiting, who sat in pairs along the cushioned benches, their excitement palpable. Beside you, Rhaenyra sat stiffly, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze fixed firmly on the passing landscape. The stiffness in her posture was unmistakable, an obvious contrast to the lighthearted chatter that filled the space.

Across from you, Septa Rhaedis sat with her hands folded in her lap, her expression serene but watchful. Every so often, she cast a glance toward Rhaenyra, her brow furrowing slightly at the Princess of Dragonstone’s obvious displeasure.

One of your ladies leaned closer to her companion, whispering with an eagerness that was impossible to ignore. “I’ve heard the Rock’s great hall is so vast it could fit an entire dragon,” she said, her voice barely containing her excitement.

“And they say the gold mines are endless,” another chimed in. “The wealth of House Lannister is unmatched.”

Their whispers turned into quiet laughter, but Rhaenyra’s mood did not lighten. You turned your face slightly toward her, sensing the storm that had been brewing within her since the trip began.

“Sister,” you said softly, your voice gentle but firm enough to catch her attention. “You’ve been brooding since we left the capital. What troubles you so?”

Rhaenyra glanced at you, her violet eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s nothing,” she replied curtly, though her tone suggested otherwise.

You tilted your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “You forget, Rhaenyra, that I know you better than most. ‘Nothing’ does not sit so heavily on your shoulders.”

Septa Rhaedis looked between the two of you, her expression unreadable, while your ladies fell silent, their curiosity piqued by the exchange.

Rhaenyra sighed, uncrossing her arms and leaning back against the cushioned seat. “It’s this whole trip,” she admitted finally, her voice laced with frustration. “Father’s insistence on visiting Casterly Rock—what purpose does it serve? He panders to Jason Lannister as if his attention is some great prize.”

You frowned slightly, your tone calm as you replied, “The King’s visit is a gesture of goodwill, Rhaenyra. Strengthening alliances benefits us all.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze sharpened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “And yet it seems less about alliances and more about… other intentions.”

You hesitated, sensing the weight of her unspoken words. “You mean Jason,” you said quietly.

Her jaw tightened, and she looked away, the tension in her posture returning. “He has no interest in alliances,” she muttered. “His ambitions are clear. He failed with me, so now he turns his attention to you.”

A soft murmur rippled through your ladies, but you silenced them with a slight raise of your hand. “And if he does?” you asked, your tone measured. “If his attentions are genuine, does that offend you so deeply?”

Rhaenyra’s eyes snapped back to yours, a mixture of disbelief and irritation flashing across her face. “You’re too trusting, Y/N,” she said, her voice sharper now. “Jason Lannister is a man of ambition, not sincerity. He sees you as a way to regain favor, nothing more.”

You felt a flicker of irritation at her words but kept your composure. “And you believe I cannot discern that for myself?” you asked, your voice calm but firm. “I may not see the way you do, Rhaenyra, but I am not blind to people’s intentions.”

Rhaenyra exhaled sharply, her frustration spilling over. “You’re too kind, too gentle. It’s easy for men like Jason to take advantage of that.”

Your smile was faint but unwavering as you replied, “Perhaps. But it is my choice to make, not yours.”

The tension between you lingered for a moment before Septa Rhaedis cleared her throat softly, drawing both your attentions. “Your Grace, Princess Y/N,” she said, her tone even. “Might I remind you that unity within the family is paramount, especially on such a journey as this?”

Rhaenyra glanced at the Septa, her expression softening slightly. “You’re right,” she said reluctantly, though her tone still carried a note of irritation. She turned back to you, her gaze steady but less sharp. “I only worry for you, Y/N. You’re my sister. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

You nodded slightly, your voice gentle. “And I appreciate that, Rhaenyra. But please, trust me to navigate this in my own way.”

Rhaenyra sighed again, leaning her head back against the seat as the carriage swayed gently beneath you. “You’ve always had a way of calming storms,” she muttered, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Even when I don’t want you to.”

Your ladies giggled softly at her words, the anxiety in the carriage easing slightly as the conversation shifted. Outside, the rolling hills of the Westerlands gave way to the towering cliffs that marked the approach to Casterly Rock. Despite Rhaenyra’s reservations, the grandeur of the Rock loomed ahead, a symbol of the strength and wealth that awaited your family’s arrival.

The great courtyard of Casterly Rock bustled with life as the royal procession arrived, the sound of horses’ hooves and the clatter of wheels echoing off the high stone walls. Banners bearing the sigils of House Targaryen and House Lannister fluttered in the brisk wind, and a sea of retainers, guards, and servants stood in perfect formation, awaiting the arrival of their esteemed guests.

At the head of the welcoming party stood Jason Lannister, resplendent in Lannister colors, the sun catching on the gilded lion embroidered on his doublet. His eyes were focused on the procession intently, though his face remained calm and composed. Behind him stood his family and bannermen, their presence as commanding as the Rock itself. Lady Leonella Lannister was there, her posture regal, her gaze sharp as she watched the carriages approach. Tyland stood beside her, his expression unreadable but his eyes betraying his amusement at his brother’s unusually focused demeanor.

The first carriage, ornately adorned in black and red, rolled to a halt, and a steward rushed to open the door. From within emerged King Viserys I Targaryen, his presence as commanding as ever despite the slight weariness in his frame. Queen Alicent followed, her elegance unmarred by the long journey, with the young Princes Aegon and Aemond and Princess Helaena trailing behind them. The King’s gaze swept over the assembled Lannisters, a warm smile breaking across his face.

“Lord Jason,” Viserys said, his voice booming despite the years weighing on him. “It is good to see Casterly Rock as grand as I remember it.”

Jason stepped forward, bowing deeply. “Your Grace,” he said smoothly, “the honor is ours to host you and your family. Casterly Rock stands ready to serve the crown.”

Viserys inclined his head in acknowledgment, stepping aside as the second carriage arrived. Jason’s composure wavered slightly, though he quickly steadied himself as the door to the second carriage opened.

Rhaenyra was the first to step out, her eyes scanning the crowd with practiced ease. Her expression was carefully neutral, though those who knew her could sense the strain beneath her poised exterior. Behind her, the ladies-in-waiting descended gracefully, their whispers and giggles hushed in the grandeur of the moment.

Finally, Septa Rhaedis emerged, her hand extended to assist the last occupant. You stepped out slowly, your movements measured as you adjusted to the firm stone beneath your feet. Your pale hair was intricately braided, and your silver-and-black gown seemed to shimmer as the sunlight caught its threads. The quiet murmur of the gathered crowd grew softer, a ripple of curiosity and admiration passing through them as Ser Lorent Marbrand stepped forward to guide you.

Jason’s eyes softened as they fell upon you, his earlier composure replaced by something warmer, more personal. As you were led forward, it was clear to all that his attention was entirely on you.

When you reached him, Jason inclined his head deeply, his voice softer than before. “Your Grace,” he said, his tone carrying an edge of reverence. “Welcome to Casterly Rock.”

You offered a faint smile, your voice calm but kind. “Thank you, Lord Jason. It is a pleasure to be here.”

Jason hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “If it pleases you, Your Grace,” he said carefully, “may I have the honor of escorting you inside?”

The question caused a stir among the onlookers, but Jason paid them no mind. His eyes remained fixed on you, awaiting your response.

You tilted your head slightly, your expression thoughtful. After a moment, you nodded, extending your hand toward him. “That would please me greatly, my lord.”

Jason stepped forward, gently taking your hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm. The warmth of his presence was steadying, and as he guided you toward the entrance, his movements were careful and deliberate, ensuring each step was smooth and unhurried.

Behind you, Ser Lorent followed at a respectful distance, his ever-watchful gaze taking in every detail. The procession of Lannisters and Targaryens moved toward the grand doors of the Rock, the weight of tradition and expectation heavy in the air.

As Jason led you up the wide stone steps, he glanced down at you, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hope the journey was not too arduous, Your Grace.”

“It was long,” you admitted, your tone light, “but it has brought me here. That is all that matters.”

Jason smiled faintly, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. “Then I shall do everything in my power to ensure your stay is worth the journey.”

The weight of his words lingered as you entered the great hall, the grandeur of Casterly Rock spreading out before you. Though the eyes of the court were still upon you, the quiet connection between you and Jason was undeniable, a thread woven amidst the stone of the Rock.

Jason’s arm was steady beneath your hand, his stride deliberate as he guided you through the towering entrance of Casterly Rock. The air inside was cooler, carrying the faint scent of polished wood, stone, and the unmistakable trace of sandalwood—an aroma you now associated solely with him. It lingered softly, comforting yet distinct, and you found yourself unconsciously relaxing as he led you forward.

His grip on your hand, resting lightly on his arm, was firm yet gentle. As the procession moved into the great hall, you noticed a subtle motion—his fingers brushing against yours in a deliberate yet discreet gesture. It was as if he was grounding you, a silent reassurance in the midst of the grandeur and noise.

“You’ve brought us into a magnificent place,” you said softly, breaking the quiet between you. The gentle hum of conversations behind you—the King and Queen’s voices mingling with their children’s laughter—barely reached your ears. “The halls feel as though they carry centuries of strength.”

Jason’s green eyes flickered toward you, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he replied, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “It is magnificent,” he admitted. “But today, it feels even more so for having you within its walls.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, though you maintained your composure. “You flatter me, Lord Jason,” you said, though your tone was light, almost teasing.

“Not nearly enough,” he countered without hesitation, his voice carrying a sincerity that startled you. “When the King agreed to this visit, I feared it might never come to pass. Yet here you are. I cannot tell you how much it means to me.”

You tilted your head slightly, sensing the weight of his words. “You have wanted this moment for some time, then?”

“Longer than I care to admit,” Jason confessed, his tone softer now. “Hosting your family—hosting you—has been a hope of mine since… well, since our first meeting.” His hand shifted slightly beneath yours, his fingers brushing over yours once more. “I wanted to show you this place. To make you feel welcome here.”

You considered his words carefully, your voice steady as you replied. “You’ve done much already, Lord Jason. The care and preparation are clear. My father speaks highly of your house, and I… I can feel its grandeur in every step we take.”

Jason’s lips quirked into a small smile, his gaze flicking toward the high arches of the great hall as he guided you further inside. “I wanted this place to feel as though it could belong to you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even if only for a time.”

The subtle shift in his tone did not escape you, and though the gravity of his words lingered, you chose to focus on the present. “It already feels welcoming, Lord Jason,” you said gently. “You’ve succeeded in that much.”

As you spoke, the procession came to a halt, the King’s voice rising jovially as he greeted members of House Lannister who had gathered to receive him. Jason paused, his attention momentarily pulled toward his family, but his focus quickly returned to you.

“Shall I guide you further, or would you prefer to rest for now?” he asked, his tone thoughtful.

You smiled faintly, tilting your head toward him. “You’ve been a most gracious escort, Lord Jason. But I believe I should join my family for now. There will be time to explore later.”

Jason inclined his head, though his grip on your hand lingered for a moment longer before he released you. “Of course, Your Grace,” he said, his tone warm. “But know that if you ever need a guide, I am at your service.”

You nodded, your voice soft as you replied, “Thank you, Lord Jason. Your kindness does not go unnoticed.”

As he stepped back, allowing Ser Lorent to return to your side, you couldn’t help but notice the faint brush of his fingers against yours one last time—a gesture that spoke of connection, even as he returned to his duties. The scent of sandalwood lingered as he moved away, a reminder of his presence even amidst the grandeur of Casterly Rock.

The grand hall of Casterly Rock was filled with the sounds of courtiers mingling and retainers bustling to accommodate their royal guests. The King, seated with Queen Alicent at a prominent table near the hall’s center, appeared jubilant, his laughter echoing against the high stone walls. He clutched a goblet of wine, already half-emptied, as Lady Leonella Lannister stood nearby, engaging him in a conversation marked by her poised elegance.

Jason approached his mother and the King with measured strides, his green eyes flickering briefly toward you across the hall. You had rejoined Rhaenyra, her sharp features softening slightly as you exchanged quiet words. Even from a distance, Jason’s gaze lingered, tracing the gentle movements of your hands as you spoke. His mother noticed, of course, though she kept her expression neutral as he joined her side.

“Ah, Lord Jason!” King Viserys called warmly, raising his goblet in greeting. “It is good to see you here among us. Casterly Rock is as grand as ever, and your hospitality does House Lannister great credit.”

Jason bowed slightly, his expression respectful but relaxed. “Your Grace honors me,” he replied smoothly. “We are delighted to host you and your family. It is a privilege to welcome the King and his kin.”

Viserys waved a hand dismissively, though his grin remained wide. “Nonsense, nonsense. It is we who are privileged to enjoy such a fine reception. My daughters seem especially pleased.” His gaze flicked toward you and Rhaenyra, his eyes gleaming with warmth as he observed your quiet interaction. “Y/N looks at ease here.”

Jason followed the King’s gaze, his expression softening as he watched you smile faintly at something Rhaenyra said. His mother, ever perceptive, noted the way her son’s attention lingered and arched a delicate brow, though she said nothing.

Viserys turned back to Jason, his jovial tone continuing. “You seem to be looking her way quite often, Lord Jason. Something on your mind?”

Jason hesitated for the briefest moment before speaking, his voice even but laced with sincerity. “Your Grace, if I may—do I still have your permission to court your daughter?”

The question, though carefully worded, carried a weight that silenced the surrounding conversations for a moment. Queen Alicent’s gaze snapped to Jason, her expression betraying surprise, while Lady Leonella’s lips curved into a small but knowing smile. Viserys, meanwhile, regarded Jason with an unreadable expression, his goblet lowering slightly as he considered the request.

“You are bold, Lord Jason,” Viserys said finally, his tone less jovial but not unkind. “It is no secret that you have shown interest in my younger daughter.”

Jason inclined his head respectfully. “I have, Your Grace. And that interest has only grown since I’ve had the honor of knowing her. Princess Y/N is… extraordinary. I would like the chance to show her the sincerity of my intentions.”

Viserys leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze turning thoughtful as he stroked his beard. “She is indeed extraordinary,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. After a moment, he glanced toward Alicent, whose expression remained carefully neutral, though there was a flicker of concern in her eyes.

“Your Grace,” Jason continued, his tone steady, “I understand the delicacy of this matter, and I assure you, my intentions are honorable. If the Princess will have me, I would be honored to court her.”

Viserys studied him for a moment longer before his expression softened. “You’ve not wavered in your pursuit, Lord Jason,” he said with a faint smile. “And I cannot fault you for admiring Y/N. She deserves to be admired—and cherished.”

The King’s gaze shifted toward you once more, his expression tinged with fondness as he watched you speak to Rhaenyra, your gestures measured and graceful. “If my daughter is willing, then I will continue not stand in your way. But know this, Lord Jason,” he added, his tone firm, “Y/N’s happiness is paramount. If I sense any less than the utmost sincerity, this will end.”

Jason nodded solemnly, his voice steady as he replied, “You have my word, Your Grace. Her happiness is my highest priority.”

Viserys chuckled, though his eyes remained sharp. “We shall see, Lord Jason. We shall see.” With that, he raised his goblet once more, the moment of gravity dissipating into the warmth of his earlier mood.

Lady Leonella’s gaze lingered on her son, her expression a mixture of pride and intrigue. “Well,” she said softly, her voice just for Jason, “it seems your persistence has paid off—for now.”

Jason allowed himself a faint smile, his green eyes returning to you across the hall. “It’s not persistence, Mother,” he murmured. “It’s purpose.”

As the King turned his attention back to his wine and conversation, Jason stood quietly beside his mother, his mind already planning how to make the most of the opportunity he had been granted.

The vast great hall of Casterly Rock was alive with activity, a tapestry of motion and sound as lords and ladies mingled beneath the towering arches of polished stone. Golden sconces lined the walls, casting a warm glow that reflected off the intricate tapestries and the Lannister sigils woven into the rugs. The scent of roasted meats and fragrant herbs wafted from the kitchens, mingling with the faint tang of wine that filled the air.

You sat beside Rhaenyra at one of the long tables, your posture serene as you listened to the hushed giggles of your ladies-in-waiting. Their excitement over the grandeur of the Rock was evident, their chatter weaving a melody of admiration and awe. Despite the noise around her, Rhaenyra sat stiffly, her eyes darting across the hall with a mixture of irritation and wariness.

“He thinks himself clever,” Rhaenyra muttered under her breath, her tone bitting as she glanced toward Jason Lannister. “Stealing glances as if no one notices. It’s pathetic, really.”

You tilted your head slightly, sensing her frustration even without seeing the direction of her gaze. “Who, Rhaenyra?” you asked softly.

“Who else?” she replied, her voice low but biting. “Lord Jason. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you.”

Your lips curved into a faint smile, your tone calm as you replied, “Perhaps he’s simply ensuring we are comfortable. It is his home, after all.”

Rhaenyra scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re too kind, sister. He’s not just looking—he’s plotting. Men like him always are.”

You considered her words but chose not to respond immediately. Instead, you turned your face slightly toward her, your expression thoughtful. “Tell me, Rhaenyra,” you said gently, “what does this hall look like? It must be grand to gaze upon.”

The question softened Rhaenyra’s features, her irritation momentarily giving way to contemplation. She leaned back slightly, her gaze sweeping the hall as she answered.

“It is vast,” she began, her voice steady. “The walls are carved from golden stone, polished smooth so they gleam in the torchlight. The banners of House Lannister hang high, each one bearing the golden lion on a field of crimson. Chandeliers hang above, their candles casting a soft, flickering glow that dances on the polished floors. And the table where the King sits…” She paused, her tone tinged with reluctant admiration. “It’s carved from a single piece of wood, massive and intricate, with lions etched along its edges.”

You smiled faintly, your hands resting lightly in your lap. “It sounds magnificent,” you said softly. “A place steeped in history and power.”

Rhaenyra nodded, though her gaze flicked back toward Jason, her irritation resurfacing. “And ambition,” she added. “Men like Jason thrive in places like this. Every word, every glance—it’s all calculated.”

The ladies around you continued to chat and giggle, their whispers carrying fragments of admiration for the Lannisters and their legendary wealth. One of them leaned closer to you, her tone conspiratorial. “Your Grace,” she said, her voice hushed but excited, “did you notice how Lord Jason looked at you when you entered? It was as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.”

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, her tone cutting as she replied before you could. “Of course he did. It’s the same way he looked at me before Father rejected him. He’s simply shifted his focus.”

You sighed softly, your voice calm but firm. “Enough, Rhaenyra. Let us not judge him so harshly without cause.”

Your sister regarded you for a moment, her expression softening slightly as she sighed. “I only worry for you, Y/N. You trust too easily.”

“And you trust too little,” you replied gently, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Perhaps we balance each other in that way.”

Rhaenyra huffed a quiet laugh despite herself, shaking her head. “Perhaps we do.”

As the conversation settled, you leaned slightly toward her, your tone softer now. “Thank you for describing the hall to me, Rhaenyra. It helps me see it in my own way.”

Rhaenyra’s lips curved into a faint smile, her earlier irritation fading as she replied, “Of course, sister. I’ll always help you see.”

The bond between you both, though tested by the pressures of court and family, remained steadfast, even amidst the gilded halls of Casterly Rock.

Jason Lannister crossed the grand hall with deliberate strides, his cloak trailing lightly behind him. His eyes flicked briefly toward Rhaenyra, who sat beside you, her posture stiff as she watched his approach. But it was you who held his attention, your serene presence drawing him in despite the whispers and glances that trailed in his wake.

Jason inclined his head respectfully as he reached your table. “Princess Rhaenyra,” he greeted, his tone polite but lacking the warmth that followed. “Princess Y/N.” His gaze softened as it settled on you, his earlier conversation with your father emboldening him.

Rhaenyra’s violet eyes narrowed slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Lord Jason,” she replied, her voice cool.

Jason, unfazed, turned his focus to you. “May I join you?” he asked, his tone gentle, though his confidence was evident.

You tilted your head slightly, sensing the tension emanating from Rhaenyra but choosing to address him directly. “Of course, Lord Jason,” you said softly, gesturing to the empty seat beside you. “It would be a pleasure.”

As Jason sat down, the ladies-in-waiting around you fell into a hushed whispering spree, their giggles barely concealed. Jason glanced their way briefly, a flicker of amusement crossing his face before he returned his attention to you.

“I hope the journey here was not too tiring,” he began, his voice warm.

“It was long, but smooth,” you replied, a faint smile gracing your lips. “And the destination has made it worthwhile.”

Jason chuckled softly. “I’m glad to hear that. Casterly Rock is a place of many stories and secrets, though most of them are locked away in its stones.”

“Were you one of those secrets as a boy?” you asked lightly, your curiosity genuine.

He grinned, the expression boyish and charming. “I might have been,” he admitted. “I spent most of my childhood trying to outrun my tutors. Tyland was always the clever one, but I had the speed to escape punishment more often than not.”

You smiled at his words, your voice soft with amusement. “It seems some things have not changed.”

Jason laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Perhaps not. And you, Princess? Were you a mischief-maker as a child?”

Your expression turned thoughtful as you considered his question. “Not mischief, I think,” you replied. “But I did have a habit of sneaking into the Dragonpit to sit with other dragons, before Silverwing was mine. The keepers were forever scolding me, though I suspect they were more amused than angry.”

Jason’s gaze softened, his admiration evident. “A habit of seeking out for dragons, then,” he said quietly. “Fitting for a Targaryen.”

You tilted your head slightly, your smile faint but warm. “Perhaps.”

As the conversation flowed, Jason allowed his hand to drift slightly closer to yours, his movements subtle yet deliberate. When his fingers brushed against yours, he paused, his touch light and unassuming. Then, slowly, he covered your hand with his, his warmth steady against your skin.

The whispering among your ladies-in-waiting grew louder, and Rhaenyra’s sharp gaze snapped to where Jason’s hand rested atop yours. Her lips parted as if to speak, but Jason, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, turned to address you directly.

“Your Grace,” he said softly, his voice carrying a sincerity that silenced the murmurs around you. “I spoke with your father earlier. He has given his approval for me to court you.”

You blinked, your expression momentarily surprised before it softened. “He has?” you asked, your tone calm but curious.

Jason nodded, his gaze unwavering. “He has. And more than that, I already have yours,” he added, his voice quieter but no less firm. “You gave it to me before I left King’s Landing.”

A faint blush rose to your cheeks, though you did not withdraw your hand from his. “I did,” you admitted softly, your voice steady. “But only if your intentions remain as they were.”

Jason’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his expression resolute. “They have not wavered,” he said firmly. “And they will not.”

Rhaenyra, still watching the exchange, exhaled sharply, her tension radiating. “You are bold, Lord Jason,” she said finally, her tone edged with disapproval.

Jason turned to her, his expression polite but unyielding. “Boldness is often necessary when pursuing something—someone—of great value,” he said. “And your sister is more than worthy of such efforts.”

The animosity between them lingered, but you interceded, your voice calm. “Rhaenyra,” you said gently, “Lord Jason has done nothing to warrant your ire.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze softened slightly at your words, though her frustration remained evident. “I only wish to ensure you are not misled,” she said, her voice quieter now.

Jason inclined his head respectfully. “Your concern for your sister is admirable, Princess,” he said. “I only hope to prove myself worthy of the trust she has already placed in me.”

The quiet resolve in his tone left little room for argument, and though Rhaenyra said no more, her gaze lingered on the two of you, watchful and wary. Meanwhile, Jason’s attention returned fully to you, his hand remaining over yours as the whispers around you swirled like the faintest breeze.

The soft murmur of waves echoed faintly in the distance as you stood on the balcony of your chambers, the cool sea breeze brushing against your skin and teasing the edges of your braided hair. The night air carried the faint scent of salt and stone, mingling with the stillness of the hour. Your hands rested lightly on the carved stone railing, its texture smooth beneath your fingertips.

Ser Lorent stood a respectful distance behind you, his armor catching the moonlight. Ever watchful, he remained as steady as the cliffs that cradled Casterly Rock. The silence between you was companionable, broken only by the gentle rustling of your gown as you shifted your weight slightly.

“It’s quieter here,” you said softly, your voice barely rising above the whisper of the wind. “Quieter than the Red Keep, even quieter than Dragonstone.”

Ser Lorent’s voice, low and steady, answered you. “The Rock has its own kind of stillness, Princess. The walls are thick, the sea muffles much of the noise. It can be… soothing, for some.”

You smiled faintly, tilting your head upward as if to face the sky. “And the stars tonight?” you asked, your tone carrying a note of curiosity. “What do they look like?”

Ser Lorent took a step closer, his boots barely audible against the stone floor. “Clear and bright,” he said. “The sky is dark, without a cloud to obscure them. There’s a cluster directly above us, a scattering like a handful of diamonds on black velvet. The moon is nearly full, casting a soft glow over the sea.”

Your fingers brushed against the stone railing as you imagined the scene he described, the vastness of the sky stretching endlessly above you. “It sounds beautiful,” you murmured. “The stars always seemed closer at Dragonstone, but here… perhaps they feel more patient.”

“They are constant, Princess,” Ser Lorent replied. “No matter where you stand.”

You turned your face slightly toward him, your expression thoughtful. “Do you ever wonder, Ser Lorent, what it is they watch for? What they see that we cannot?”

He hesitated, as if considering the question carefully. “Perhaps they watch to remind us of our place,” he said finally. “Small and fleeting, but part of something greater.”

You nodded, your lips curving into a faint smile. “That’s a comforting thought.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the breeze tugging at the edges of your cloak. The distant crash of waves against the cliffs was a steady rhythm, a reminder of the world’s immensity and your small place within it.

“I think I like it here,” you said suddenly, your voice quiet but resolute. “It’s peaceful. A different kind of peace than I’ve known before.”

Ser Lorent inclined his head slightly, his gaze steady. “It suits you, Princess. This place… it seems to bring you calm.”

You smiled again, your fingers tracing the smooth stone beneath your hand. “Perhaps it does,” you said softly. “Or perhaps it’s simply the quiet. It gives one space to think.”

Ser Lorent said nothing more, his presence a reassuring constant as the breeze carried your words away. The stars above shone brightly, unseen by your eyes but no less present, a reminder of the vastness of the world and the quiet moments that made it beautiful.

#house of the dragon #hotd #fire and blood #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #house targaryen #house lannister #x reader #hotd jason #jason lannister #jason x reader #jason x you #jason x y/n #the second daughter

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secriden · 2 days ago

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Going legitimately insane because all my brain has been able to chew on has been this particular callback and what it means for the headspace that Fadel is in at the end of episode 6.

Because Fadel starts the episode with his walls so utterly dismantled that he is able to verbally admit this desire to Bison (and, more importantly, himself) out loud . . . only to end the episode brokenheartedly discarding that dream as he instead offers to fashion himself into what he (thinks) Style wants, not knowing that he is already everything that Style has come to desire.

It's insane that Fadel even said that to Bison in the first place because the Fadel of episode 5 knew better than to believe it was possible for anyone to truly bare themselves to another person, knew better than to want to know and be known and chosen despite it all. To the Fadel of episode 5, "laying yourself bare" was an impossibility because of how much power it gives the other person, and Fadel's mind is too practical, his circumstances too complex, his heart too fragile to ever give that to anyone ever again.

But Fadel's walls began to crack in the face of Style's honesty and the shared pain of knowing what it is to loose someone precious; shuddered under the weight of Style pressing kisses to his scar and laying Fadel bare to bring him pleasure; shattered in the face of Style giving himself over to loving Fadel for a whole night and the morning after -- and Fadel woke up half underneath the spread of Style's body and found himself already in love.

And do you know how I know this? Because of all the things Fadel could have said he liked about Style, he chooses this. It's not that Style is effortlessly kind and thoughtlessly generous at times. It's not that Style is hot and sexy and frankly kind of a slut (specifically for Fadel). It's not even that Style has secret, hidden depths and an unexpectedly shared pain which allows him to understand and empathise with Fadel in a way that no one but Bison has been able to for a very long time.

No, it's his cockiness. His arrogance. The way Style is unabashedly himself and makes no apologies for it. The way Style will literally dance to his own tune and sing at the top of his lungs with no care for anyone else's opinion unless it's to appreciate it. The way Style walks into the room and has the confidence to put his body on display and already know that he will be welcomed and wanted; and the way he assumed Fadel would find him attractive (correct), and moreover would not stop until Fadel eventually gave in to that attraction (which, as it turns out, also correct).

It's telling that it's these specific instances that come to mind when Fadel thinks about Style's lips. There are so many scenes and shots they could have chosen (because lbr here Dunk, and therefore Style, really does have amazing lips), so it feels very intentional that Fadel thinks firstly of the time Style refused to back off when Fadel pretended not to miss him, and then the moment when Fadel finally admitted that he did and was rewarded with Style's reassurance and reciprocated vulnerability and wholehearted embrace. Also, because this was the last episode that Style did not Know, and therefore was still being fully honest with Fadel. Both instances are Fadel appreciating in hindsight the way Style's very nature -- the way he would not give up, the way he keeps pushing and pushing even in the face of Fadel's seeming impassivity -- gives Fadel not only the opportunity but the impetus to finally let go of his control and acknowledge his feelings for Style.

It's explicit confirmation that Fadel enjoys and appreciates and has grown to love Style's personality and antics and the way he expresses himself.

So the Fadel in episode 6 dares to ask for Style's honesty and gives with it an explicit promise of trust and acceptance in return. After recognising the effort Style has had to put in to find ways to connect with Fadel (heavy metal vs pop rock), he now asks for Style to be real with him because Fadel understands himself to be ready to love, and in loving Style, is able to offer the very thing he wants the most from Style: acceptance of who Style is.

We also see the evidence of Fadel's unspoken promise in the way that he now responds with an almost easy openness to Style's questions in stark contrast to the Fadel in the early part of the show. Now, he gives Style pieces of himself with barely a thought, and lets Style use them to push and prod and drag to light the very things he used to keep hidden because he thought they weren't useful or helpful or worthy of being loved (see @sherrymagic's gorgeous gifset + my tags on it).

It's also in the way he now allows Style to take him outside of his comfort zone because he trusts that the private joys he's kept to himself are safe in Style's hands; that, moreover, Style will look to Fadel's happiness and not make a mockery of it.

I'm obsessed with the moment in the screenshot on the bottom right because Fadel looks so completely out of his element and almost in a state of shock. He's literally standing separated from the rest of the group in the composition of the shot, hesitation writ in every line of his body, while Style, who isn't even a fan of this band or this music, fits in with the band seamlessly.

But this isn't because of discomfort, it's nervousness and an almost joyous disbelief because Fadel could never have done this on his own, he would never have allowed himself the indulgence of actually showing his love for his favourite band if Style hadn't taken the initiative to drag him there and ask for the photo. And, oh, how wonderful it must have felt to see Style prove his own words by being right there by Fadel's side as he lets himself go, as he lets himself be himself without fear, for the first time in what must have felt like forever.

In a single, perfect night, Style has been exactly, precisely, breathtakingly everything Fadel could ever have wanted; because in a single night of Fadel finally having the courage to bare himself to another person, Style gave Fadel not only acceptance but a celebration of who Fadel is. With everything Style does that night, he ties himself to Fadel, ties his happiness to Fadel's and his comfort to the warmth of Fadel's embrace. Style fashioned himself into exactly what Fadel wanted -- and now that Fadel has had a taste of it, how can he possibly go back?

Which is why Fadel already knows that it's too late for him, he knows that he is already in love; knows, moreover, that he has rewritten parts of himself to love and miss and yearn for Style; has even learned to love Style the way he understands Style wants to be loved.

So Fadel might as well keep the promise he made to Style with his lips pressed shut against the lies he didn't want to keep telling Style. He might as well give Style more days and nights and chances to spin his lies, because at least Fadel has the meager comfort of knowing he spoke the truth.

Because if Style wants to keep playing this game, if Style is able to so be so convincingly deceptive that Fadel can no longer trust himself to tell when Style is lying, then Fadel will take the punishment of choosing honesty in the face of his betrayal. Fadel will pay the price of daring to chase after the impossible. Fadel will fashion himself into a heartless tool and allow himself the indulgence of playing this tantalising part -- because he may just find a way to save Bison in the process.

And to Fadel, it does not matter if his own heart gets broken along the way, because Fadel deserves the punishment of laying himself bare to the man who does not love him in return; he deserves to give Style the power of knowing the hold he has over Fadel.

But doing so is a punishment for Style, too, because if Fadel must love, then he is going to weaponise his own feelings in the fight he now thinks he has to wage against Style. Because two can play this game of cruelty, and Fadel has decided that he will pour himself out on the alter of Style's deception if it means that Style might just end up caught in the web of his own making. And Fadel does not care if this sword is double edged because cutting himself to pieces is a small price to pay if it means dragging Style along with him into hell.

After all, what's another crack when his whole entire world has already been so utterly and completely shattered?

#i started this post pretty much the day the episode dropped and every single meta post i've written since has just been byproducts #of this one harrowing thought that Fadel is taking his own feelings and fashioning them into the ultimate weapon to bring Style down.#because it can simultaneously be true that he plans to do this whilst also understanding that he now genuinely is IN LOVE with Style.#the simultaneous acceptance of his feelings and the callous and clinical use of them -- yeah this is the killer we saw in episode 1 #and the fact that Fadel thinks this is is what he needs to do; that this is WHO HE NEEDS TO BE when he's actually SO WRONG #because every beautiful perfect loving moment Style gave him this episode was in TRUTH and IN SPITE of the lies he had to tell Fadel.#it's just BREAKING ME OPEN. T_T somebody please hold me i'm really Not Okay!!!! T_T #the heart killers #the heart killers the series #fadelstyle #stylefadel #thk ep 6 #thk meta #fadelstyle meta #joongdunk #hui talks thk #hui talks thai bl #<- once again if you want to tag block me i would so understand ^^;;;

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sinnabarmoth · 3 days ago

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Tribute for the Dragon (12/18)

(A/N: Just wanted to wish you all a Happy New Year! Here's to a better year and more of this LaDS obsession! Love ya!)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: Sylus takes Reader out on a trip to confess something very important and ask an even more dire question

Content Warnings: Adult language. Minor blood letting/mixing. Mating rituals. P in V. Cunnilingus.

Length: 4k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (13)

Read on AO3

Sylus was concerned. Since coming back from the village you had not been the same. His usual bright and spirited little bird had grown silent. You moved about the mountain as if you were a ghost. Despair clung to you like a shroud and no matter what he said or did, you remained in your sullen state.

He did not know what to do. He knew that your relationship with your father was important and getting in that fight with him had been a terrible blow. You had gone back to the village a couple times since then to pick up some things, chat with friends, and you always stopped by to see your father. But each time nothing changed. Things were still tense and you only came back home feeling worse.

Part of Sylus wanted to confront your father and scream at him for making you miserable. It was not your fault that he was upset. If you wanted to stay with Sylus that was your own business. It should not matter to him so long as you were safe and happy.

Another day had passed and Sylus was in the kitchen area of the mountain trying his best to make tea for you. You had picked up some when you last went to the village. He rather liked it but he still didn’t understand the steeping process. But he needed to try something.

He took the mug of tea with him back to the bedroom where you were sitting, a book laid in your lap but you were not reading it. Your gaze was lost to the void as you stared at the wall.

“Ahem,” he stepped infront of you. “Care for something to drink?”

“Thank you.” you took the cup and peered inside. “Did you make tea?”

“Tried to.” Sylus shrugged. You took a tentative sip. Your face was fighting to stay neutral as you swallowed. “A little strong.”

“Apologies. Still learning.” he sat next to you. “Good book?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I have yet to actually read any of it.” you closed the book and sighed. “Can’t focus on much of anything nowadays it seems.”

“Little bird,” Sylus wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you next to his side. “I know you can’t just change the way you feel but lingering over this will only hurt you more.”

“It just hurts so much.”

“I know. And I appreciate your desire to stay here but if it is only making you more miserable then you may need to return to the village.”

“What? No! I don’t want to go back to the village. I want to stay.” It was the most energy he had gotten out of you in days as you frantically said you wanted to remain on the mountain. Your eyes were pleading with him not to send you away. “I don’t want to leave you. I want to stay here with you, Sylus.”

“Alright. It was just a suggestion.” he pulled you onto his lap. “I just hate seeing you in pain.”

You relaxed in his arms. He held you close, breathing in your familiar scent and the feel of your body against his.

With him.You wanted to stay with him. You had said the same when he gave you the option before. Back then you said it so casually, as if you were confused it was even a question whether you would want to remain with him or not. He thought that maybe your opinion would have changed considering how you had been behaving these past few days. He hated the idea of you leaving but if you were only going to be miserable with him he didn’t want to keep you from something that may make you actually happy.

But you had said you wanted to stay. You wanted to stay with him. After everything that had happened, you still chose him.

His entire life he had never been desired anywhere by anyone. Sylus belonged to neither humans or dragons. He had resorted himself to a life of solitude on this mountain until you appeared and brought so much joy into his life. He never wanted to lose you.

Perhaps…perhaps that is human love. This ache in his chest, this desire to dry your eyes and banish your heartache, this need to have you near him at all times. He could not say for sure. All he knew was that he wanted to show you just what you meant to him. But what? Would anything be appropriate while you were still so upset?

The days continued to pass and you began to perk up. You were smiling more and talking more. There were times where he came upon you and you were standing still as a statue, a thousand yard stare in the middle distance. You had also stopped going to the village as much as you had been. You admitted that most of the reason you had been stopping by as often as you were was to try and talk to your father. But if he didn’t want to talk to you then you weren’t going to hurt yourself any longer trying to reconcile with him.

Sylus had also yet to tell you how he felt. He felt it every day. He wanted to say something but the words just wouldn’t come out. Maybe if you said it first he’d be able to say them as well.

What pushed him over the edge was one evening you were laying next to him in bed, your head resting on his shoulder. Your fingers were tracing his chest and rested on the gem in the center of his torso. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what is this?”

“That is my heart, little bird.”

Your eyes went wide. “Are you being serious?”

“Very. At least, it is an opening to my heart. The fleshy organ that actually pumps my blood is underneath it. The gem is just part of the protection around it.”

“Wow…do you feel anything when I touch it?”

“Almost. It is very faint though. It’s not exactly a sensitive part of the body.”

“I see.” you placed your hand over his heart, feeling the steady thumps under your palm. You gave him a little smile before pressing a kiss to the gem and resting your head back on his chest.

Sylus took back everything he had said about not being able to feel anything when you touched it. You might as well have dug your hand in and taken it from his chest. It certainly didn’t feel like it belonged to him anymore.

So, here he was. About to do something that would either make him the happiest he could ever be or would end horribly. Hells give him strength.

He found you sitting cross legged on the dais in the hoard room. You were rearranging gems to create mosaics on the stone. You looked up when you saw him and smiled. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Making designs.” You gestured to the pile of gems in front of you. “It’s the closest I can get to making stained glass designs here and I’ve found I miss the work. What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering how you would feel about going on a little flight?”

“Really? That sounds great!” you jumped up. “When are we going? Where are we going?”

“We can leave as soon as you are ready and the destination is a surprise.” he was so glad to see you acting more like your old self again. “Now go put on some shoes and something warm to wear. It’s cold out.”

“Yeah yeah. I’m going.” you scampered back off into the mountain. When you were ready Sylus picked you up and took off. You flew for a long while but you were enjoying it. Your arms were outstretched as you glided through the air, completely unafraid that Sylus may drop you. You trusted him so much.

“Look down, my little bird.” he told you as you neared your destination.

You opened your eyes and peered down. Below you was a valley full of bright red flowers that swayed in the crisp autumn breeze. Sylus touched down in the center of it and set you down. You gazed around, your eyes wide as you took in the sight. “It’s beautiful. How did you find this place?”

“Passed through it once on my travels.” he watched as you bent down and picked one of the flowers. “The blooms don’t last long so I thought you’d like to see it now before they all wither with the winter. I remembered your story about the blood moonflowers and while these are not those I thought you’d like it just the same.”

“I love it. This is amazing.” you laid back in the field of flowers. Sylus sat down next to you. Throughout the rest of the afternoon you frolicked through the flowers. You had taken many of the flowers and wove them into a wreath that you proceeded to put on his head.

“It looks good on you.” you said, adjusting it slightly.

“Glad you’re having fun.”

The sun began to set and the golden light that shone on the red flowers looked as if it sent the entire meadow ablaze. You sat their transfixed as you watched the light dance. “This is breathtaking.”

Sylus could not take his eyes off of you. The golden light silhouetted you like a halo and for the first time in his life Sylus believed the gods could be real. The hells could not make something so perfect as you. “Yes, you are.”

“Hm?” You turned your attention back to him.

Now or never. He took your hand. “I have a confession to make. I did not just bring you out here to show you this meadow. I wanted to tell you something and ask you a question.”

“If you’re going to ask me if I want to return to the village again, Sylus, I swear to the gods--”

“No. No. Quite the opposite in fact.” Hells, it felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest.

“I did not think there was anything in this life for me. Since I was a child I never felt like I belonged anywhere. Not with dragons. Not with humans. I thought I had been cursed to be alone. That was until I met you, a girl in a ridiculously expensive dress and dirty boots hiking up a mountain to meet a dragon. I did not know what to make of you back then. I thought that perhaps I could have you as a companion, someone to make my isolation a little less lonely. But you ended up being so much more.

“I adore you. I adore the way you can’t hide a single thing you feel, how you were almost never scared to bite back at me when you were mad, how brave you are, how caring, how smart and creative. You not only banished my lonely days, you filled them with unending light and renewed a hope that I do not think I’ve felt since I was a child.”

Sylus could see tears welling in your eyes. It made him smile. He knew those tears were not made out of sorrow as so many of yours had been lately.

He took your other hand. “So what I’ve wanted to say to you is that you were right. Dragons may be incapable of love, but I am not all of me a dragon. I am human too and I’ve realized it isn’t the curse I thought it was, because it let me fall in love with you.”

The tears were falling down your cheeks now. “You…you love me?” your voice was choked with emotion.

“Yes, my little bird. I do. Which leads me to my question.” he cleared his throat. “Know that if you say no it will not change my feelings for you. But I need to know if you would become my mate.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” it felt like his heart was going to burst outside of his chest. “Will you become my mate? Understanding all that it means. That we will be connected, tethered together for the rest of our lives.”

“Yes. I do.” you threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tight. “I love you too. I would love nothing more than to be your mate and spend the rest of my life as your other half.”

Relief flooded through him. “My better half.” he murmured.

“So um, how do we do this? You said there was a whole ritual, right?”

“Yes, which I’m realizing means you’re going to have to try and speak in Draconic.”

“Oh…is it hard?”

“Certainly isn’t easy, but we’re going to try. It also requires blood, so here.” he took your hand and pressed a claw to your palm. “Do you trust me?”

“More than anything.”

He sliced a thin line down your palm. Little drops of blood seeped from the cut. He then drew a cut across his chest and placed your bleeding palm over it. “Now, say exactly as I say.” He began speaking slowly in Draconic, making sure you could copy the words as best you could on your own tongue.

He felt it and he could tell you did too. The shiver of magic that ran through your bodies, connecting at where your blood mingled.

“Now what?” you whispered, afraid to break the silence.

“Now comes the more fun part.” he grinned, taking you and rolling you onto your back.

“We’re doing it out here?” you asked.

“Has to be done immediately. Why?”

“It is the middle of autumn. It’s cold.”

“Trust me,” Sylus edged the hem of your skirt up. “You’re not going to be cold for long.”

The layers of your clothes were peeled away until you were lying in that bed of red wildflowers naked as the day you were born. Your body trembled but he couldn’t be sure if it was the wind or nerves. You were certainly excited, he knew that much. Not even a field full of fragrant flowers could mask the sweet scent of your desire.

He wanted to savor every moment of this. He hovered over you, taking your lips in a soft and slow kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer so his chest was pressed on top of yours.

That was another thing, you never recoiled from his more dragon like appearance. The scaled armor on his arms, his chest and his legs never seemed to offput you. The only thing you ever complained of was that he had to forcefully recede the claws around his hands so he could finger you. That was it. Even then, you never asked him to do it. More often than not you would fuck yourself on your own hand to get your body ready for him so he didn’t have to go through the painful process that was sheathing his claws. Not even when you were in the throes of passion and he held you too tight and they dug into your skin you never complained or asked him to stop. You desired him exactly as he was, never asking to soften his sharp edges. He wished there was more he could do for you.

His lips trailed down your body, leaving soft kisses from your throat, your sternum, between the valley of your breasts, and further down your abdomen and your hips. Your legs were already open inviting him in. He kissed up your thighs. A small whine left you when he had skipped over your cunt to pepper your other thigh with kisses, a grin on his face. He wanted to sink his teeth in but he knew the first bite he took would be his mating bite and he wanted to put it somewhere he could see it even when you had your clothes on, although the idea of being hidden where only he knew was exciting too. He’d just have to leave other marks there.

He finally directed his attention back to your cunt, leaving a small kiss on your throbbing clit before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it. Your moans were immediate and he loved how they echoed in this meadow.

He moved his attention lower to your pussy, tasting the sweetness of your arousal. Everything about you was always so warm and sweet and he wondered how he had gone so long without it. He wanted to do this for you every day. Spread you wide and drink you down until you were nothing but a pile of limp shaking limbs, spent and dizzy with desire.

Your hands carded through his hair before grabbing hold of his horns. Fuck! His tongue moved faster, probing inside your cunt, lapping up every drop of arousal straight from the source. You were deliberately moving your hands up and down his horns to turn him on even more.

“You’re very handsy today.” he groaned, pulling back just enough to speak.

“I like it when you moan against my cunt.” you said, your breathing labored.

“I bet you do.” he smirked, licking a stripe up your cunt. The tip of his tongue teasing your clit again. He kept your gaze as he devoured you, his moans sending vibrations through your body while you ground against his face.

“That’s it, wildfire,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, “Come for me. Come all over my face. I need you to come for me.”

“Ah! Fuck! Sylus!” your voice was cracked and pleading. “Oh fuck! Almost--almost--Sylus! Sylus! Please! Sylus!”

Sylus watched as your eyes fell closed, unable to keep them open while your orgasm drowned you. Your body was still moving, grinding against his face as he worked you through your orgasm until you finally stilled. Your legs shook slightly but other than that you seemed fine.

Good. He was far from done with you yet. At least now he knew your body was ready for him. He could truly take his time now.

“Still with me, wildfire?” he asked, coming back up to lay by your side.

“Yeah.” you breathed out. You rolled over to kiss him, a small moan escaping you as you tasted yourself on his lips.

“Good. Because the next part of this is what solidifies the mating bond. If you want to stop, now is the time.”

You rolled your eyes and straddled yourself across him. “Never.”

“My brave bird.” he sat up to kiss you again. “It’s fairly easy what happens next. You have to pick a spot to bite. I plan on putting my mark right here,” he kissed you high on your neck. “Now you have to pick yours.”

“These mating bites are going to leave marks?”

“Yes. They fade a bit but they’ll still be noticeable, like an old scar.” Sylus explained. “Now, where do you want to put your mark on me?”

Your eyes roamed his body before you touched a spot on his throat as well, matching the spot he chose for you.

“Good choice.” he rolled you over so you were back under him. “I want to make love to you now. So don’t rush or try to make this harder or faster than it needs to be. We have all the time in the world for that later. Today, I want to be gentle with you. I don’t just want to say I love you. I want you to feel it down to your bones that I do.”

“Sylus,” you cupped his face, “I would love nothing more. I love you. I love you so much and I cannot wait to be your mate.”

“My mate…” he liked the sound of that.

He slowly sunk his cock inside of you. You were still so tight. He pulled out a bit and sunk in again, easing himself bit by bit into your pussy. Nothing felt as good or as right as it was when he was in you, moving with you.

He kept his body gently laid atop yours, making sure not to crush you under his weight. He just wanted to feel as much of you against his skin as he could.

When he finally was fully sheathed inside you he stayed there unmoving for just a moment to look you in the eyes. There was definitely lust but more than that, he saw love. He saw unwavering trust and adoration in your gaze. His wonderful little bird. You really did love him, didn’t you?

He pulled out and sunk back into you, his body rolling slowly against yours. He pressed his lips to yours again, taking every little sigh of yours down his throat. His body was screaming at him to go faster, take you harder until you were screaming his name. But he ignored it, keeping the pace slow and sweet. He wanted this moment to last as long as it could.

The sun dipped and disappeared over the horizon, leaving the pair of you under the pale watchful eye of the moon and stars. It reminded him of the night on the cliff overlooking the beach. The first time you had kissed him. The first time you had admitted to wanting him in the same way he wanted you.

Back then he had thought that what you had started would be something fun. Nothing serious. He had believed he was incapable of the love humans showed so he had not thought that anything could go wrong. He could not love and you would have been insane to fall for him. Yet here you now were. Your bodies moving together in an age old dance as he made you his mate. After tonight you would be his mate and nothing could undo it. You’d be his and he’d be yours…forever.

He had a brief thought as you moaned in his ear, nails scratching at the exposed skin of his back. If she’s my mate then I’m going to have to warn her about how intense dragon ruts can get after this. Hopefully rut wasn’t something he was going to have to worry about for a while so he had time to talk to you about it.

His pace got a little faster, a little harder as instinct and the need for release started to become more prevalent. Now was the time, before he lost all control.

“I’m going to mark you now.” Sylus said. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” you pulled him closer for one more kiss. “I love you, Sylus.”

“I love you too.” he nuzzled your neck, kissing the spot he planned to mark. He felt your own mouth on his neck, your lips soft and pressing against his pulse. Then the sharp bite of your teeth.

He groaned, opening his mouth and biting down hard on the spot high on your neck. Just like when your blood was mingled at the start, Sylus felt a shiver of magic course through him. He knew you felt it too.

Your pussy clamped down tight around his cock as you moaned against his neck. Then all at once his body erupted in fire. It spread from where your mouth was and flooded his blood. He felt renewed, invigorated, and more than that, he felt connected. Everything about you was amplified. The sound of your breath, the feel of your pussy, the taste of your skin.

Your legs locked around Sylus’s waist. When he pulled back from your neck he saw a small twinge of red glowing in your eyes, mixed in with the color of your irises. This was it. The magic at play, bonding you. Now all that was left to do was make you come undone around him.

His thrusts got faster but he refused to take you like an animal just yet. He wanted you to come around him as he made love to you. The first act as your mate, he wanted it done with love, not feral desire.

“My mate,” he said, his claws digging into the ground on either side of your head as a method of control. “I want you to come for me.”

“My mate,” you gasped out, eyes full of joyful tears. “Come with me. I want you to come with me.”

He loved the way that sounded on your tongue. My mate.

His thrusts grew quicker and stuttered out of rhythm as his orgasm drew closer. Everything was too hot. He needed to cool down. He needed to finish in you. But he wanted to feel you come around him first. Wanted your pussy to squeeze every last drop of his cum out as you came. You were so close he could tell. Just a little more.

“I need you to come for me.” his voice edged on begging, so close to coming. “I’ll only come when you come.”

“Sylus!” you were sobbing with need. “Please! Please! So close!” Your hand snaked between you two and swiped at your clit.

“Yes! Hells yes! Make yourself feel good.” he was rutting against you now, so painfully close. He wasn’t going to last much longer like this. “Come. For. Me!” he punctuated every word with a hard thrust.

Then, your pussy clenched, gripping and gushing around him as you came. Your moans echoed across the still night air for miles. And Sylus followed you into sweet oblivion, spending every drop of his cum into your tight cunt. And he couldn’t fucking stop! It felt as if your pussy had truly milked everything from him, pushing everything out with each flutter of your hot slick walls.

Your body glistened with sweat and your eyes were closed as you took in deep breaths, your arms and legs still wrapped tight around him.

Even in the pale light of the moon he could make out the mark on your neck claiming you as his own. He bent closer, kissing it gently. Slowly your body started to relax as he kissed you and whispered comforting words in your ear. At last your legs unhooked from behind his back. Sylus unearthed his claws from the soil.

“I’m going to pull out now.” he said. Your eyes were still closed but you nodded. There was a small wince as he pulled away. You were still incredibly sensitive. So, very carefully he took you by the hips and rolled you on top of him so you weren’t pressed into the cold ground anymore.

“You were so good.” he whispered, “Take deep breaths, relax. Let your muscles release that tension and just melt. It’s alright. I’m right here with you.”

“Sylus,” you opened your eyes once more. The red that had been in them had disappeared. “We’re mates now?”

The smile nearly split his face. “Yes, we’re mates now.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Now and forever.”

“Now and forever.” you repeated, a tired but joyful smile on your own face. You laid your head back down.

Sylus stared up into the sky at the vast endlessness of the inky blackness that stared back, with you laying atop him breathing gently. And in that moment he felt true peace for the first time in his life. No matter what happened now, your very souls were bound together. No force in the heavens above or the hells below could undo it. You harmoniously and irrevocably belonged to each other.

Now and forever.

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads mc #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #dragon sylus #lads dragon au

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sentientgolfball · 5 hours ago

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Dew and phantom with 4 and 10 from the prompt list:3

I really love writing these two so much OUGH

went the hurt/comfort route for this one

It is one of those days. One of the days where Dew wakes with pressure in his head and the weight of the world on his shoulders. Days like these happen more frequently this time of year, when the sun is gone and snow covers everything green. It never used to be this bad. When he was water he would just spend the coldest days sleeping. Now that he is fire though, all he gets is this lousy seasonal depression. The flame in his veins means he is now connected to the Sun rather than the Moon, so when She disappears it is like his mind shuts down.

All the fire ghouls get like this, but Dew suffers the worst. Omega thinks it is because of the remnants of his water. A deep, deep part of him tells him it is time to sleep, but the rest of him does not allow it. It is not in his nature anymore. So the two conflicting instincts cause him to get hit harder than the rest.

He fucking hates it. He hates that he cannot even force himself to get up to shower or eat or do anything besides lay in bed and stare at his wall. He cannot even get himself to shower or brush his teeth. It all just feels so heavy. Subconsciously he knows it will pass. He knows there is nothing wrong with him, that this is just a part of him now, but at the moment all he can think about is how much of a waste he is. Which in turn makes him feel worse. Adds even more pressure. But he cannot stop it. Round and round his thoughts go as he gets trapped in a spiral of his own making.

How pathetic.

Waste of a day.

Disgusting.

Cannot even take care of himself.

What is he even doing?

He buries himself deeper in his blankets, trying to shut out the light. Maybe he can sleep it off. He may not be the kind of ghoul to take naps, but anything is better than his current state. He knows it will not happen, but at least if it is dark he can pretend.

But then a knock at his door disturbs his cocooning efforts. Who the fuck could that be? His pack is aware of how he gets this time of year and after doing this for so long they know to let him have a day before pulling him out. A day to rest, if you can even call it resting, so he does not burn out. Alpha told him there is a reason fire ghouls hide away during the winter but Dew did not really pay attention.

So the knock shocks him. He does not feel annoyed or angry or anything close to that. He barely feels anything other than the heaviness in his chest. He does not really have time to process a response because before he can decide if he wants to truly be left alone or have someone here, the door creaks open.

“Dew? Are you dead?” Phantom’s voice calls out.

The vaguely Dew shaped lump on the bed just shrugs. He cannot really find his words. Phantom does not mind though. They step into the room, shuffling over. Dew can hear a little tink nearby as Phantom places a plate down on his nightstand. The noise causes Dew’s ear to twitch. When the smell of food hits his nose his stomach rumbles. He did not even know he was hungry. Very slowly, Dew rolls around so he is now facing Phantom instead of the window.

They look down at him with a nervous little smile, “When you didn’t come to breakfast I got worried cause I was like ‘Dew is always the first one here’ but everyone else told me it would be okay but then I felt bad cause you’re missing croissants and I know how much you like them so i thought it wouldn’t hurt to bring you one.”

They gesture to the plate that has a large chocolate filled croissant and some bits of fruit. Dew still does not say anything. He cannot. Find it. And it frustrates him. But not as much as Phantom’s gesture warms him. Them and their stupid face and stupid big heart and stupid kindness. Even for a horrible creature like himself. He wants to tell them something, let them know he appreciates them, but his stupid brain will not let me say anything.

After the silence stretches for too long, Phantom rocks back on their heels and looks away, “Aaaanyway I’ll leave you be since you’re not feeling well.”

The moment they turn to leave, Dew acts on instinct. His hand darts forward, wrapping around their wrist with a slight tug. They stop dead in their travel and look back down at him.

“Dew what—“ the words die when they see a tear roll down his cheek.

Dew never cries. Ever. Phantom’s only seen him cry once and that was when he saw Aether for the first time when they got back from tour. They try not to panic because what the fuck could be happening to make Dew cry.

“Hey it’s okay uh you’ll be alright. Do you…want me to stay?”

Get it together Phantom, you’re a quintessence ghoul for Satan’s sake.

Dew nods his head, still not letting go of Phantom’s wrist. Despite the circumstance, their tail happily wags behind them. They pull the edge of the blanket up and clamber under. Immediately they wrap their arms around Dew, cuddling close and twining their tails together.

Dew does not stop them. It is actually quite nice. Their ozone and frozen apple scent is familiar. Comforting. It allows him to focus on something else that is not the screaming in his mind that tells him he is an inconvenience. A burden.

Phantom. Does not really know what to do. Now that they are touching, they have an idea of what is wrong. Can feel the heaviness weighing him down. But just because they know does not mean they can do anything. They want to, of course they do, but what does he need?

“Do you wanna stay like this?” Phantom mumbles into his hair.

Dew nods.

“Okay I can do that. We can stay here all day if you want.”

Anything Dew wants.

Phantom will do anything if it makes him feel even just a little bit lighter. So that is what they do. They lay in bed with him all day, scratchy little chuffs being the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #the band ghost fic #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #golfball writes

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happyhauntt · 1 day ago

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2024 fic roundup!

tagged by the wonderful @mairaiscarrierofthepaperclips!

2024 was a shitty year generally, and not great in terms of fic writing, but at the same time i found some really cool people and a community i love watching!! here's hoping the burnout gets better in 2025 💛

fics written: 8.

word count: 107,492.

january.

in the light -> doctor who au, doctor / oc. T, 25.5k (so far). enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, angsty and witty. these characters are feral.

february

gold rush -> grishaverse, nikolai lantsov / oc. T, 16.3k (so far). enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, they're in love but it's complicated and they're both idiots.

july

hold me like we're going home -> 9-1-1, buddie. T, 38k (so far). girldads!buddie, found family, friends-to-coparents-to-lovers, emotional hurt/comfort, my catharsis fic tbh.

august

take this sinking boat (and point it home) -> 9-1-1, buddie. G, 3.3k. princess diaries 2 au, written for summer of buddie. basically the wedding scene from princess diaries 2 but make it buddie. god love's fucking embarrassing -> 9-1-1, buck & may. G, 4.8k. maybuck siblingism, may finds out buck went on a date with tommy instead of eddie and goes to talk some goddamn sense into him. written for summer of buddie.

september

when the crypt doors creak and tombstones quake -> 9-1-1, buddie. M, 14k (so far). haunted mansion au. eddie buys a haunted house and buck is the ghost hunter he calls for help. shenanigans galore. this is my absolute favourite fic of the year and it's not even finished yet and literally nobody cared about it lol.

are there edges of your soul i haven't seen yet? -> 9-1-1, buddie. G, 2.1k. eddie is a detective, buck is the new medical examiner, eddie is smitten. written for summer of buddie.

december

pluto is not a planet -> 9-1-1, buddie. G, 3.2k. buck character study where he relates to pluto and its relegated status as a planet. angsty as fuck. written for winter of buddie.

2025, may you be a better year for everything and everyone. thank you so much to everyone who took the time to comment, kudos, reblog etc. my fics this year!! i love and appreciate you very very much. sincerely, ollie.

tagging: @gooondocks @saveyourblood @ohhsodebonair <3

#* ollie rambles.#buddie #911 buddie #2024 fic roundup #buck x eddie #911 abc #fic writing

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dominiquelucalover · 1 day ago

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Victor Tan Relationship Headcanons

CW: fluffy ideas. Not proofread.

This man is a caring and thoughtful partner. Sometimes, he overthinks his gestures of love, so you have to assure him that you appreciate them.

His love languages are gift giving, acts of service, and physical touch. Not in that particular order, though. In fact, in no order. He mixes it up often though he loves to have an arm around you whenever you're nearby. He just loves being close to you.

King of anniversaries and holidays! If you want to celebrate the day y'all had your first kiss, he's all for it and marks it on the calendar. Days like Valentine's are important to him because it gives him an excuse to spoil you a little bit. Just let him. And your birthday? He's going to make sure it's the best every year.

Dates with him can be as extravagant or as simple as you want them to be. He'll plan to go to really nice restaurants for important dates - your birthday, Valentine's, anniversary - and try to make everything perfect. Spoiler alert, the more he tries to make things "perfect" the more he'll fumble it, but it's pretty cute all things considered. Man never learns his lesson though.

"This year is going to be so much better than last year. I promise."

"Babe, Honey, Victor, that's what you said last year and then you made the reservation for the wrong day."

That's all I have right now but please send in more requests for Victor. He deserves all the love and attention.

#swat tan #victor tan x plus sized reader #victor tan x reader #victor tan #swat cbs #swat x reader #swat 2017 #swat

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wake-me-up-inside-imagines · 2 days ago

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Hiii! Can I make a request for Charlie? I read your pregnant darling and im curious how it would play out when his s/o is giving birth. I love your fics btw and im a huge fan of your oc's!

Awe, thank you so much, I appreciate the support! And sure thing for the request, I hope you enjoy!

Yandere! Mafia Boss With An S/O Who’s Giving Birth

Technically GN! Reader because pronouns aren’t used but reader is pregnant so…presumed afab reader

Warnings: Reader is giving birth, pregnancy, medical stuff, needles, Charlie is Yandere but doesn’t really do a whole lot of insane stuff in this one, mentions of death and stuff going wrong but nothing bad happens don’t worry

(Also, I mentioned this in the pregnancy post but I’m gonna do it again here; In this scenario, reader is with Charlie willingly and he’s just Yandere for other reasons. I don’t fw the idea of a kidnapped darling being pregnant, that’s a hard limit for me even though I write darker content).

Divider credit goes to @konatasoup

Charlie’s spent the entirety of your pregnancy worrying about the day you’d finally give birth. He was excited of course, he can’t imagine not being overjoyed, but the prospect of anything going wrong absolutely terrifies him. What if there’s a complication with your pregnancy? What if the baby isn’t as healthy as his doctor says they are? What if you get severely hurt during the birthing process? What if you die? What if-

He tries to surpress his worries, he really does, but as the day draws closer, he can’t help but dwell on them. He does his best to distract himself with prepping everything you might need at the hospital and more importantly, sticking by you every second he possibly can, protecting you from any outward threats he can think of. If something’s gonna go wrong, it’s not gonna be because he failed to keep you safe. Whatever is in his control will be dealt with, you can bet on that.

When it comes time for you to give birth, he’s absolutely frantic, and doing a terrible job at hiding it. Sure, he’ll reassure you he’s fine, but his frantic scrambling to get everything in the car and his nearly erratic driving prove otherwise. You’ll have to spend as much time reassuring him as he does reassuring you, because that man is not calming down any time soon.

However… he does make a pitstop to get your favorite food before you enter the hospital. He’s been told that it might be a while before you can eat again and he’s not about to let you go hungry, so whatever you want, he’ll get (despite his nerves). As long as you aren’t in a ton of pain and ok with him getting you food, he’s happy to provide for you.

Once you get to the hospital, he’s borderline harassing any nurse he can find, demanding you be taken in as soon as possible. He only slightly relaxes once you get into the labor room where you’ll be taken care of, but even then, he’s still shaking wildly, asking every single nurse and doctor what they’re doing to you as they’re doing it. You can’t blame the guy though, he has no idea what’s going on, and he loves you too much to play around with you and your child’s health.

He’ll hold your hand throughout all your contractions, no matter how hard you squeeze. He would really prefer you get an epidural because it kills him to see you in any amount of pain, and you better believe that you’re gonna get it as quick as possible if that’s what you want, but if you want to have the baby naturally, he’ll respect the decision, letting you grip him for dear life throughout the pain. He knows contractions are part of the process, but it still freaks him out to see you go through them, even if you and the nurses tell him you’ll be fine.

Once the baby starts really coming out, he’s on the verge of passing out. There’s nurses everywhere, you’re clearly in pain as you push, people are talking, machines are beeping, there’s a chemical smell overpowering his senses, you’re squeezing his hand for dear life-

Aaaaandddd there he goes.

He passes out right next to you, but he comes back after a second or two, groggy but alert. He might pass out again later, but for now, he focuses all his attention on you, reassuring you that you’re doing so well, and that he can’t wait to meet your child. He’s extremely lightheaded the entire time you’re pushing your kid out, but he does his best to stay focused, too anxious to purposefully allow himself to slip away.

Then he hears your kid crying, and he’s sees a fleshy blob get carried away to be cleaned off, and the biggest rush of relief hits him so hard he starts letting out a couple tears of his own. His child’s here, they’re here and you’re both fine. Nothing went wrong, everything’s ok, and he’s a father now, a real father. He has a kid!

While the doctor’s are making sure your baby is all right, Charlie focuses all his attention on you. You’re exhausted, as expected, but you find enough energy to smile up at Charlie, and he can’t help but smile back. He squeezes your hand reassuringly and pours out soft praises, reminding you how much he loves and you and how excited he is to be a dad.

Charlie spends the rest of the hospital visit absolutely giddy, almost vibrating with his excitement and joy. He watches you hold your kid with the biggest grin on his face, holding out his finger for the baby to grab onto as the two of you coo over them. He can’t keep his eyes away from you two, his gaze landing between your happy face and his baby’s face, trying to soak in every detail, until it’s permanently burned into his memory.

And then you pass the baby to him, saying he should get a turn to hold your kid, and he just melts. He tries to be as gentle as possible as he cradles the tiny human he helped create, absolutely petrified at the prospect of dropping them but beyond jubilant that he finally gets to hold the kid he’s been waiting to meet for so long. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to let them go, he’s only known them for a little bit, but he already loves them more than anything in the world (other than you).

Charlie doesn’t really know what the future holds, especially considering his job. But he makes a vow right then and there that no matter what happened, he’s gonna keep his kid as safe and happy as possible, even if that means shielding them from his career as much as possible.

He looks over to you, baby in arm, and smiles. He’ll keep his family safe. He swears it on his life.

I hope you enjoyed!

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alice--pallas · 24 hours ago

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While Alice didn't fear that the information would turn Abraxis away, she did feel a sort of relief that he was now aware of this important knowledge. It certainly wasn't the most important fact about her past but a vital one nonetheless. She smiled at them when they expressed their gratitude for her honesty. It was strange, learning how to trust someone in this way again, after so long. Initially, she'd really just been looking for a fling and some intel, a fact that she sometimes felt a little guilt over--but she couldn't have known that it was going to turn into something so much deeper and meaningful. And yet, even now, there was a small worry in the back of her head that wondered if Abra knew anything about what had happened a few nights ago in the graveyard. She wanted to believe that he couldn't have but right now, there really wasn't any way to be 100% sure. She supposed that, per usual, she'd just have to trust her gut. To be fair, her gut usually lead her in the right direction--usually. I have questions but I want you to know that nothing you could ever reveal about yourself would alter my perception of you. She smiled at these words, though she found them interesting as well. To her core, Alice had a strong moral compass and therefore, she hadn't had many moments that she was truly ashamed of. No, she didn't feel great about her prior addictions but she didn't beat herself about them, either. Being such a loyal person, she had never betrayed anyone that she cared about--that being said, though, she did wonder what would cross Abraxis' personal line of what they personally deemed to be reprehensible. Giving them a small smile and a nod, she said "You can ask your questions if you want."

In retrospect, perhaps she shouldn't have used a phrase that was commonly used in wedding vows. For better or worse. I un-ironically like that sound of that. Giving a small chuckle, she said "You know what I mean." Of course, she didn't want to push away the romantic notion of what Abra was hinting at (and maybe joking about?) but at the same time, they were far from any kind of commitment like that. Furthermore, Alice was almost positive that she wasn't interested in getting married again for a long time. If she were ever to do that, she had to be sure it was the one--and even then, did that really make a difference? She'd been so sure that Alec was the one and look how that one had turned out. She was more than content with taking things slow as they had been. For example, they hadn't even had the 'what are we' conversation, mostly because they both felt satisfied with simply enjoying each other's company.

Though she was admittedly a bit surprised at their confession to having acted entitled, she did appreciate their honesty to come clean about it at all. Besides, from the sound of it, they were purely referring to interactions that they'd had with the hospital staff--they hadn't mentioned her family, though she was certain that they'd crossed paths. All this to say that if they didn't want her knowing about it, they hadn't actually had to tell her--and that honesty meant everything, even with something so seemingly trivial. Then again, being kind to others wasn't really trivial at all, was it? "Thank you for telling me," she said, her blue eyes earnest. "I'm sure it's been stressful for...everyone. But I appreciate you being on your best behavior," she said with the slightest of chuckles. "Besides, I can't really blame you for flaring your temper--I'd probably have done the same." Abraxis hadn't seen it, and she bashfully hoped they'd never have to, but Alice knew a thing or two about having a temper herself. She'd certainly raised some hell when she'd been a bit younger and louder, that was for sure.

Mystery is part of the allure. Smirking, she said "It certainly is." Of course, it wasn't just Abraxis working through the layers to get to her core--she'd also been doing the same thing, trying to get to know them on a deeper level. "That's part of the fun, though, isn't it? Putting all the pieces of the puzzle together?" she smiled, tracing her fingers along their well-defined arms. She'd much rather have this conversation wrapped in their arms in their bed inside their dark, antiquated home--naked, perhaps. She supposed that this sterile hospital room with beeping monitors would have to do for now, though. "I'm hoping I don't have to be in here much longer..." she said, unable to push away her current predicament from her mind.

She couldn't lie--she'd half-expected Abraxis to insist that she no longer pursue this, voicing their worry for her safety and in fact, when they'd started to respond, that's where she thought they were going. It was the perfect ploy--to be resolute in asking her to please stop looking because someone could come after her again or even worse, her daughter. They use the guise of fearing for her safety, all the while, keeping her in the dark about whatever nefarious deeds were taking place. That's why when they said 'We need to prove it,' she couldn't help but look at them in amazement. "You...want to help me?" she asked, fighting a smile. Perhaps... What you need is help from someone on the inside. Alice's eyes lit up at the suggestion--that together, they could get to the bottom of this. It did, of course, cross her mind that this was also a good ploy--but then again, maybe she was just being paranoid. After all, she couldn't possibly forget her hallucinations in the graveyard. She was scared and that was understandable. But maybe, just maybe, she really could trust her lover.

“i can see that it has impacted you—and still impacts you now,” abraxis murmured, their words a deliberate cadence of reverence. there was an elegance in alice’s resilience, a quiet yet commanding strength that stirred something ineffable within them. it was breathtaking, an understated radiance that rendered her more than merely captivating; she was a pillar of survival, a poignant reminder of why she held their interest so effortlessly. while alice was right about the need for the right time and place to unveil her story fully, abraxis inclined their head in a gesture of deep appreciation, their gaze steadfast. “thank you for choosing to share this with me. i consider myself fortunate—honored, even.” their voice softened, a tender veil drawn over the delight that hummed beneath. they were enraptured, eager to map every intricate contour of her soul. still, questions lingered like specters at the edges of their mind, threatening to surface, yet they withheld them for now, choosing instead to offer gratitude in its stead. “i have questions,” they admitted, their voice a low murmur, “but i want you to know that nothing you could ever reveal about yourself would alter my perception of you. these things only draw me closer.” there was a quiet intensity in their words. their pull toward her was undeniable, a gravitational force as illecebrous as it was inescapable. the phrase for better or worse tumbled through their mind, a notion that once clawed at their subconscious, shredding their sleep with fears of vulnerability and ruin. yet, when abraxis tried the words aloud, they found their lips curling upward in an unbidden chuckle of felicity. “for better or worse,” they echoed, the phrase a tender musing that left them bashfully self-aware. a slight cringe danced across their features, as though the intimacy of the sentiment had caught them unprepared. “I un-ironically like the sound of that,” they confessed, a quiet laugh trailing after, fragile yet sincere.

what do you mean? “i mean that,” they added after a breath, their thoughts slipping momentarily to the painful recollection of that first night. shame weighed heavily upon their shoulders, tugging like a child’s relentless grip on a parent’s ankle—innocent yet unrelenting. “i am, as we speak, in the process of rebuilding a rather dismal rapport with the front desk staff,” they admitted, their tone self-deprecating. “while i didn’t exactly cause a scene in my efforts to see you the first time, i may have ruffled a feather or two.” they bowed their head slightly, humility etched into every line of their expression. they hesitated, their voice dropping to a near-whisper, heavy with contrition. “i managed to rein in my temper, but i behaved… entitled. i’m ashamed of it.” their lips pressed into a thin line, the faintest flicker of self-disapproval shadowing their gaze. “i’ve apologized to the staff, but i owe you an apology as well, in case you find my behavior as embarrassing as i do. i promise—no, i swear—to be on my best behavior from here on out.” it was more than a vow to her; it was a covenant with their own integrity, one made in the silent chambers of their conscience.

a slow, deliberate grin unfurled across their lips as alice’s teasing words reached them. her question—playful, provocative—was a spark in the quiet. oh? have i been some great mystery to you up until now? the curve of their mouth was lopsided, unevenly charming, the kind of smile that hinted at mischief lurking just beneath the surface. their eyes glimmered with a wicked yet soft light. “mystery is part of the allure,” they replied, their voice a rich, rolling timbre that carried an intimate warmth. in her presence, despite the frigid air outside, they felt as though they stood in her apricity, basking in her glow as a raven might perch upon the bare boughs of a willow, warmed by a rare winter sun. “but understanding,” they continued, their tone deepening, “is the reward. and in that aspect, i’m a rich soul.”

something is happening. the story began to unravel between them like smoke spiraling into clouds, its shape elusive yet undeniable. abraxis, despite the shroud of secrecy they had wrapped so tightly around themselves, could no longer remain hidden in the mist. within alice’s steady gaze, they felt exposed, as though her insight pierced through the veil of their carefully maintained diversions. “i agree,” they conceded finally, their voice dipping into a heavy quiet. “you can’t put yourself—or rhea—in any further danger.” the nod they offered was a solemn gesture. “but if you think you’ve uncovered something amiss…” the thought lingered, unspoken fears curdling like ink in water, darkening the clarity of their mind. their gaze sharpened, a flicker of steel beneath the velvet of their tone. “we need to prove it.” the suggestion hung in the air, cautious yet resolute. despite the gnawing dread at the edges of their consciousness, they knew alice was right. against their better judgment, and even their instinct to shield her from harm, they whispered their agreement. “you have to see it through.” their teeth worried at their lower lip as they considered the repercussions, the ripples of this decision stretching far beyond them both. “perhaps… what you need is help from someone on the inside?"

#tw: hospital #tw: injury

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