#stillnes
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Photo
Moon and Cow | Alex Colville
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
random craig tucker headcanons
has level 1 low support needs autism
gay (not a hc bt whaever.)
special interest is star trek and space in general
watching red racer every day is a routine he mustn't under almost any imaginable circumstance break
got some peruvian ancestry (from which parent's side? heck if i know) + knows a bittt of spanish
his family mostly goes without saying a word to each other during meals
when hes waiting outside the counselor's office for flipping off someone again he sits and either thinks about space or looks at images of stripe on his phone to ease any tension that migth be there
barely ever smiles except when stripe, space or tweek exist
closer to thomas than to laura
his parents taught him everythin ghe knows <33 (emotional constipation and invlulnerability but breaking the ice every one in a while)
sometimes just randomly infodumps about random facts about star strek or space or guinea pigs at the most random of times (actually canon as briefly shown in TFBW)
likes to learn / memorize random facts abt red racer, space, star trek or guinea pigs
random fact i almost mispelled guinea pigs every single time wtmf is wrong with me
for birthdays he mostly gets space-themed stuff cuz everyone knows he loves it
if hes overwhelmed, instead of having a meltdown he'll usually have a shutdown instead
sometimes rants to stripe abt stuff like relationship drama w tweek lmao
he actually liked the clothes he wore during the metrosexual fad, (evident by keeping them in his closet as shown in TFBW)
most emotion he shows is anger/being pissed off
"sooooooo happy" is actually a stim of his and it feels satisfying for him to say it every time hes sooo happy
even when hes sooo happy the most emotion he'll show is a faint smile
doesn't really smile in any pictures unless hes forced to
flipping people off for him is kinda like pushing people away and making them pissed off at him so he wouldnt need to care abt what they think of him and that way he sorta protects himself (mostly saying this bc of one of his attacks in tfbw)(i swear im sane)
hes sometimes overwhelmed from his relationship w tweek but he fucking sucks at communicating (his kryptonite in TFBW is literally communication) he didnt communicate that to tweek just yet (this is mostly shown in buddha box)(NOT SAYING CRAIG DOESNT CARE ABOUT TWEEK HE LOVES HIM HES JUST OVERWHELMED SOMETIMES FROM FEELING LIKE HES COMPLETELY RESPONIBLE FOR HIM ANDN OIEAHDKKSH leave him alone) i like to imagine tweek and craig resolve this at one point cuz im pretty sure they get married in the future and they always push through their struggles together and they rly need each other so .
u can point to a star n hell name it
has space themed pajamas
(StOLEN HC IdK FroM whO) has those glow in the dark stars in his room
i googled it sometime ago n apparently he has blue eyes ? idrc
his childhood dream was to become an astronaut (I FORGOT HOW TO SPELL IT I LITERALLY HAD TO GOOGLE IT I HATE MYSELF) but when he grew up he probably settled for something less extreme. idk what though
either got diagnosed w autism at age 10, in his teens, in his young adult years, or far afterwards, or never at all. when he was told by someone that he migth be autistic he didnt rly even bother to look it up or anything but if he did he would go like "idk i dont really think im autistic i dont think i do (x symtom) all that much" and tweeks like "You do that literally all the time !!!!". but yeah even if he gets diagnosed he doesnt rly end up taking any medication or specializzed therapy but he does gain a larger understanding of himself and how to handle things like shutdowns.)
really picky eater (cuz sensory issues)
hates wearing jeans or similiar uncomfy clothing so he wears exclusively sweatpants (again cuz of sensory issues)
his whole family is autistic actually ive decided so when mr mackey brings up the possibility of him being autistic laura and thomas deny it cuz all the symptoms he shows are what they do as well, andthyere obviously not autistic so neither can craig be.
sometimes he goes over to tweeks house completely unannounced and so does tweek (actuallycanon as shown in put it down)
0verwhelmed by the concept of emotions in general but his relationship w tweek forces him to confront that part of him he tries to avoid and forces him to open up a bit which is actually rly important
since tweek is on meth, he heavily lacks appetite and sometimes skips meals or just doesnt take care of himself enough. craig learns abt this (not the meth part cuz tweek doesnt know that eithrer) so he helps him eat enough food throughout the day so he doesnt fucken starve to death
replies to tweeks texts instantly (actually canon)
tolkiens best friend (canon according to the official south park wiki). clydes a closee second
clyde annoys the fuck out of him but in a friend teasing way and they both care abt each other obvu
i actually dont rly have hcs for him n tolkien sryyyy
jimmy makes the best remarks abt creek (canon)(in put it down he asks craig (when craig doesnt know why tweek isnt in school) "uh oh. trouble in paradise?" and in TFBW during a battle tweek tells craig smth like "ill be right with you super craig!" and jimmy says "OK, i guess illbe the third wheel." anyway live laugh jimmy)
extremely blunt pessimist (canon)
despite his reputation as a troublemaker hes actually a decently polite kid (minus the constant flipping off)
barely goes out the house or does anything exciting. nice n boring. just the way he likes it.
hates changes or sudden surprises or his routine being broken
on the verge of being diagnosed w oppositional defiance disorder
sometimes wears black nail polish (again cuz in tfbw its kinda implied he liked the metrosexual fad n black nail polish migth be a more neutral form of such self expression)(mostly self projecting here)
tumblr user
during one pride month thomas went all out and bought craig a shitton of pride themed merch that he mostly doesnt use
he loves loves lovess seeing tweeks smile !!!1!! hes like omfg finally hes getting a fucking break (tweeks life is a fucking mess)
appears unphased by some stuff even when hes really uncomfortab;le
sometimes sleeps without pillow ehn he deems it more comfortable
deals w some form of small anxiety, not to a disordered amount thogh
maybee has depression ?!? idk
dated a girl in the past cuz he thought he was supposed to, but he felt like "she was holding him back". overall he didnt give a fuck abt their breakup cuz he didnt really care that much abt the relationship and when others questioned him abt it he was confused and didnt know most ppl were heartbroken after a breakup. (sorry i love early craig being a gay mess in denial)
sometimes cartman calls him a pocoyo rip off and each time he feels the strongest urge to either decapitate or defenestrate him
before he n tweek got together he would joke to tolkien abt how he was gonna propose to him when they grew up so he could live off his wealth and not have to work for any money. (SORRY i got this concept from a webcomic (the four of them))
he n tweek send heart emojis to each other (implied)
mostlyyy dry texter (he doesnt mean to)
at one point he n tweek buy a pair of guinea pigs for stripe to befriend and craig names them castor and pollux
he n tweek get married in the future
mostly likes dry, tasteless and cold food (There r obviously exceptions thats why i said mostly)
says and intreprerts things more literally than most
still sarcastic at times
hates huge social events with too many people and noiises
used to blend in well and fit in w mob mentality but doesnt really care anymore
it wont let me write anymo
#I HAD TO END IT BC I GOT HIT WITH TEXT LIMIT LMAO#0k thats enough i think#was gonna say he n tweek also insult each other by calling each other gay sometimes stilln it confuses the shit outa everyone lol#jesus#craig tucker#sp#south park#nd#autistic craig tucker#sp creek#creek sp#headcanons#sp craig#craig sp#he also has a large vocabulary#south park headcanons
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
So happy the pain on my wound sems to be better 😭🤧
#i was moving the whole day wic so kuch care but it sems good#stilln goung ti the hispital cause it looks ugly as fuck#but at least is not hurting that much#mux.tx
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Obligation part 3 is overr... finallyy
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
im gonna fallover and die
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Think I'm in my depression arc again . Nobody could've seen this coming (<- saw this coming a month ago)
0 notes
Text
In the Stillnes. Tasm!Peter Parker x reader
Tasm! Peter Parker x Reader. Warnings: None? Absent mother... if that counts lol. Summary: After being ditched by your mom for a date, Y/N waits alone for a bus in Queens, where you meet Peter, a friendly stranger. Their conversation sparks a blossoming friendship.
No pronouns used for reader :) A/N: Ive worked on this for so long and I just want it to be finished. And perhaps I will make a part 2 if needed, it was really fun. :) Enjoy
If this continues just know it will be a slow burn 😝
Also ps…. i will be accepting requests if anyone would like.
~
You were exhausted and cold, yearning to escape to the warmth of home after a long day at work. The last thing on your mind was taking the bus, but then your phone buzzed. It was your mom, her sweet voice breaking through your fatigue with surprising energy.
“Something came up,” she said cheerfully. “I can’t pick you up. I finally found a date I’m not going to miss!”
You felt a knot tighten in your stomach. “What if something happens?” You hissed, worry flooding your voice. The world felt cruel and unpredictable, and the thought of being alone in the middle of Queens sent a shiver down your spine.
She laughed lightly, a sound that felt distant and infuriating. “You’ll be fine! That’s why we have Spiderman!” Her high-pitched cheerfulness grated on you. Your heart sank as you realized how little she seemed to care. “The man of my dreams will be here in ten minutes, so I have to go. Be safe! Love ya!” Before you could respond, the line went dead, leaving you staring at the screen, feeling more alone than ever. The bench you were sitting on was cold, your legs twisted together trying to gather warmth as you wait for a bus. To say you were impatient would be an understatement.
The street was eerily quiet, save for the occasional car speeding by. Your breath fogged in the chill air, and you pull your coat tighter, glancing down the road for any sign of the bus. Time seemed to crawl. The distant buzz of streetlights flickered inconsistently, casting long, unsettling shadows that made your heart race with every gust of wind. Your mind wandered back to your moms words—her carefree dismissal of your worry over a man she has never met. How could she be so relaxed? You checked your phone again, half-hoping she’d call back and offer some reassurance, but the screen remained dark. Suddenly, footsteps echoed faintly from behind. You froze, your muscles tensing as the sound drew closer. You slowly turned, and there—just another commuter. He gave you a quick nod, barley acknowledging your presence as he passed by. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. The street still felt empty, and you still felt exposed. You glanced up at the dark sky, closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath, hoping for the bus lights to appear around the corner. Just as the tension in your chest began to build again, the distant hum of an engine reached your ears. Your eyes open and there it was—The bus, its headlights piercing through the had settles in your bones. The bus slowed to a stop, its brakes hissing as the doors creaked open. Warm air spilled out, inviting you inside. You didn’t hesitate, quickly stepping up and scanning your card before finding an empty seat near the back. The heat from the vents hit your face, thawing cold cheeks and fingers. You let out a shaky breath, leaning back into the worn seat as the doors closed with a soft thud. As the bus pulled away, you glanced out the window, watching the dark streets slide by. The city felt a little less overwhelming now, its harsh edges softened by the gentle hum of the engine beneath you. You were still scared, still tired but at least for the next few stops, you were moving toward home. As you settled into your seat, you noticed a man a few rows ahead, slouched in his seat, staring blankly out the window. He looked about your age with tousled brown hair and a jacket that seemed to be a but too light for the weather. His foot tapped nervously against the floor, and every now and then, he’d glance at his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. The bus hit a small bump, jolting you forward. Your heart leaps as you grab onto the seat handle, the sound of your bag tumbling into the middle of the aisle. Before you could react, the man leaned over, scooping it up and handing it back to you with a half-smile. “Rough night?” he asked, his voice low but friendly. You gave a nervous laugh, clutching the bag. “Yeah, something like that. Thanks.” “No problem.” He shifted slightly in his seat, clearly not in a rush to turn back to his window. “Missed the last train, so here I am.” You made a face, sympathizing. That must’ve been annoying, though he didn’t seem particularly bothered. “Maybe I should have taken it as a sign to just head back and binge-watch something,” He added with a soft. As he spoke, his lips curled into a half smile, and for a second, he bit his lip thoughtfully, as if truly considering the option.
There was something about the way he said it—so casual, like he was used to rolling with bad timing—that made your chest feel a little lighter, even though you still wished you were anywhere but here. His ease with the situation made it seem less annoying. Almost. You found yourself smiling, just a small one tugging that the corner of your lips, despite the lingering bitterness of your own night. “Yeah, I get that,” you said, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before glancing back at your bag.” My ride bailed on me last minute so�� here I am too.” Peter raised an eyebrow, his smile widening as if he could relate a little too well. “Ah, the last-minute ditch. Classic. Makes you feel like you’ve got great luck, huh?” You gave a short laugh, shaking your head. “Something like that. Though I’d prefer good luck at least once in a while.”
His eyes softened as he leaned back in his seat. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, at least were not waiting in the cold anymore.” He gestured to the warm bus around you both, then added, “And, you know… we could be stuck with worse company.” There was a slight, playful edge to his words, but the sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. You looked at him again, and for a moment, the exhaustion and frustration you carried all day seemed to ebb just a little. There was something… familiar about his presence, though you couldn’t quite place it.
You really did not want to be here especially when it could’ve been avoided, if you had a mother who cared. But his lighthearted words make a small smile form on the corner of your lips.
“Guess youre right,” You murmured, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the bus. There was a moment of silence, and you could hear the faint hum of the bus as it rolled over the uneven streets. Then he spoke again, breaking the quiet. “You headed far?” “Not too far. Just trying to make it home in one piece,” You replied, fiddling with your fingers as you spoke. It was nice to talk to someone who didn’t seem to mind the awkwardness of the moment. He nodded, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “That’s the goal. One piece and warm.” A smile flickered across his face, and for a moment it felt like the bus had cocooned you both in a little bubble, separate from the rest of the world. You returned the smile, surprised by the warmth it sparked within you. “Yeah, definitely,” you agreed, though a part of you was still battling the lingering chill from being outside. The bus rumbled along, and you glance out the window at the passing city lights, momentarily lost in thought. When you turned back, you noticed he had shifted in his seat, now slightly angled towards you. “So, what do you do?” he asked, breaking the brief silence. Caught of guard, you hesitated. ” Oh, um, I’m a barista,” You said, feeling a mix of pride and self-conscious. “Its interesting, I guess. Lots of coffee and conversation.” “Coffee? Nice! That’s like lifeblood of the city,” he replied, his enthusiasm evident.” Do you get to experiment with new drinks?” “Sometimes! It can get pretty creative, especially when we have seasonal specials,” you explained, feeling a little more animated. “But mostly it’s the regulars and their usual orders.”
“I can see how that could be fun,” he said, nodding. “I’m Peter, by the way.” He extended a hand, and you shook it, feeling a spark of connection.
“Nice to meet you, Peter. I’m Y/N,” you replied, a hint of shyness creeping in as you caught his gaze.
He smiled again, and there was something about his expression that made you feel more at ease. “So, do you have any crazy coffee stories?”
You chuckled, thinking back on the oddities of your day-to-day. “Oh, you have no idea! Just last week, someone ordered a triple-shot, extra-hot caramel macchiato with a sprinkle of cinnamon—while wearing a cat costume.”
Peter laughed, clearly amused. “That’s amazing! Did you get a picture?”
“Not a good one. I was too busy trying to keep a straight face,” you admitted, your laughter mingling with his. “But it was definitely a highlight.”
As the conversation flowed, it felt surprisingly easy to talk to him, like you were already old friends despite just meeting. There was something about his laid-back demeanor, a quiet confidence that made you feel at ease, though you couldn't quite place why someone like him would be riding the bus this late.
“What about you? What do you do?” you asked, genuinely curious, eager to keep the conversation going.
“Oh, I’m into photography,” Peter said with a smile, his eyes lighting up with a kind of quiet enthusiasm. “I love capturing moments—cityscapes, random things, people who stand out. It’s like, you see something ordinary, but in the right light, it becomes extraordinary.”
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “That’s an interesting way to look at it. So, do you just walk around the city with your camera all the time, looking for those moments?”
“Pretty much,” he replied, his smile growing. “I kind of like to get lost, y’know? Sometimes you find the best shots when you aren’t really looking for them. The city's like a living thing—it changes every time you see it.”
You chuckled softly, amused by his almost poetic take on photography. “Sounds like a bit of an adventure,” you said, leaning in slightly. “Do you have a favorite spot to shoot, or is it all just… wherever the city takes you?”
He paused for a second, tilting his head as if considering it. “There’s this spot near the Queensboro Bridge. Great views of the skyline at sunset. It’s quiet too—hard to find that in New York. I like to go there when I need to clear my head.”
You could sense there was more to that answer than he was letting on, but you didn’t push. There was a certain charm in the way he kept things casual, even when it felt like there was more beneath the surface. You nodded, impressed. “That sounds… amazing. Maybe one day I’ll see that view for myself.”
“Maybe,” Peter said, his smile shifting to something a little more knowing, his eyes glinting as if you had passed some invisible test. “Though you’d probably prefer to be sipping a coffee while watching it.”
You laughed at his comment. “Oh, trust me, I can appreciate a good view with or without coffee. But yeah, coffee helps.”
“Does it ever,” he replied with a chuckle. “I’ll have to stop by your coffee shop sometime—get the ‘barista special.’” He made little air quotes, and you found yourself grinning.
“Oh, you definitely should. Maybe I’ll make you something off the menu,” you teased lightly.
Peter raised his eyebrows. “Off the menu? Now I’m intrigued. Got any secret recipes?”
You shrugged, leaning back. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just trying to bribe you for a private photography lesson. I could use some pointers,” you added playfully.
His eyes lit up at that, and he chuckled softly. “Deal. Photography lessons in exchange for secret coffee recipes. Sounds like a fair trade to me.”
You smiled, feeling the tension between you both ease even further, turning into something comfortable. “So, what got you into photography anyway? Is it something you always wanted to do?”
Peter hesitated, glancing out the window for a moment before looking back at you, his expression softening. “Yeah, I guess. It’s always been a way for me to… focus. There’s a lot going on sometimes, and photography—it helps me slow down, appreciate things. Makes life seem a little less… complicated.”
His words hung in the air, and for a second, you sensed that same hidden depth in him, something that went far beyond a guy with a camera wandering the streets. There was more to Peter Parker than he was showing, but you liked the way he made you feel—at ease, like you didn’t have to rush or force anything.
You nodded, appreciating his honesty. “I get that,” you said softly. “Life can get overwhelming sometimes. It’s good to have something that helps you focus.”
He gave you a small smile, one that felt almost... grateful. “Yeah, exactly.” Then, shaking off the somber tone, he added, “Plus, it gives me an excuse to get out of my apartment. I can’t just sit around all day, y’know?”
You laughed at that, feeling the conversation lighten again. “I feel that. If I stayed home too long, I’d end up drowning in Netflix.”
Peter chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Yeah, but that’s dangerous. One episode turns into ten before you know it.”
“Exactly!” you replied, grinning. “And suddenly it’s 3 AM and you’re wondering where your life went.”
“Guilty,” Peter admitted with a sheepish smile. “That’s why I prefer wandering the city with my camera. At least then I feel productive.”
“Hey, I might have to join you on one of these photo adventures,” you said, feeling a surge of boldness. “I could use some of that productivity.”
Peter’s eyes lit up at your suggestion, and for a brief moment, you swore you saw a hint of something deeper in his gaze—interest, maybe? “Anytime,” he said, his voice warm and inviting. “Just say the word.”
The idea of spending more time with him, exploring the city together, made your heart skip a beat. But for now, you were content just sitting beside him, talking and laughing as the bus rolled on, the city outside your window feeling just a little less lonely.
As the bus rumbled on, you realized that despite just meeting, there was something about this conversation that felt special—like it might be the beginning of something unexpected.
The conversation flowed effortlessly; you felt a connection brewing between you two. Time seemed to fade away until you caught a glimpse of the city lights outside, realizing your stop was approaching.
“Looks like were on my street,” you said, glancing out the window.
“Ah, just when we were getting into it!” Peter replied, his smile faltering just a bit. “Guess we’ll have to continue this another time.”
“Yeah,” you said, feeling a twinge of disappointment. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Definitely!” he replied, as if trying to hold on to the moment. “Take care!”
Before you could think to ask for his number, the bus slowed to a stop, the doors hissing open. You grabbed your bag and stepped out, a mix of warmth and regret swirling inside you.
As you turned to wave goodbye, you caught his gaze one last time—his expression was bright with possibility, but there was a lingering sense of ‘what if’ in the air. You walked away, a small smile on your face, feeling like you’d just shared something special, yet with no way to continue it.
As soon as you stepped off the bus, reality hit you like a freight train, the biting cold air sending shivers down your spine. You took a deep breath, the chill filling your lungs, and quickly wrapped your arms around yourself, as if trying to ward off the creeping sense of isolation that settled in.
The walk to your apartment building was brief, just a few seconds that felt stretched into eternity. Each step felt heavier, a stark contrast to the fleeting warmth you had shared with Peter on the bus. The anticipation of returning home, once a comfort, now felt like a weight pressing down on your chest.
Once inside, the silence enveloped you like a thick blanket, amplifying the emptiness that echoed in the corners of your mind. Stripping off your jacket, you furrowed your brows, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. The dimness of the apartment hit you hard; your mother had left all the lights off, a clear sign of her absence. It stung, a reminder that she had chosen a night out over being there for you.
You sighed, the sound reverberating in the stillness. Each room felt like a shadow of what it once was, and the lack of warmth and light only deepened your sense of loneliness. The walls seemed to close in, and in that moment, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were utterly alone, the echoes of laughter and warmth fading into the background.
You fumbled for your phone, activating the flashlight as you navigated the darkened apartment, each step feeling heavier than the last. Once you finally reached your bedroom, you didn’t even bother to turn on the lamp. Instead, you kicked off your shoes and fell onto the bed, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as the soft mattress enveloped you.
But then it hit you like a cold wave crashing over your warmth: you hadn’t gotten Peter’s number. A sudden wave of sadness washed over you, tightening your chest, even though you barely knew him. It was his kindness that lingered in your mind, the way his smile seemed to light up the dreary atmosphere of the bus, making the chaos of your night feel a little more bearable. You closed your eyes, imagining the easy laughter you had shared, and felt a pang of regret. How was it that someone you’d just met could leave such an imprint on your heart? You wished you could have captured that fleeting moment in time, to hold onto it a little longer, to have the chance to get to know him better. But now, as the silence enveloped you, all you could do was lie there, feeling the weight of your unspoken feelings settle heavily in the stillness.
-
A/N: This is my first fic in a long time so Im sorru if this is bad? I didnt want it to get too long so I will be posting a second part, mostly because I need to feel a hole in my life lmao. But i hope you like it, if you have any ideas you want me to add to this lemme know. And if anyone wants a tag list i will make one lol.
#tasm peter parker#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter x you#the amazing spiderman#spiderman#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#peter parker fanfiction#andrew garfield#andrew!peter parker#andrew!peter x reader#slow burn#friends to lovers
50 notes
·
View notes
Note
What if a diesel engine eats sugar?
First they would start being EXTREMELY HYPERACTIVE. (Even more than Hannah, so you can suppose how crazy this guys go)
Rolling and running everywhere, screaming and laughing without control...
Their pupils also get enormous.
But when those zoomies end, the suffering begins.
They will be vomiting and unable to work for around a week. But they will stilln need to be repaired. Or in infected engines, they will need surgery.
Does it worth to try sugar?? Absolutely not. But when they explained this, Philip fell asleep -_-
(AU inspo creds: @steam-beasts <3)
#thomas and friends#ttte#au#thomas the tank engine#thefluffyrailway#monster engines#ttte au#sugar is evil
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
~ Secret Of Darkness |16| Gwi
French: /the petals of love/
Pairing: Gwi x fem! noble! Reader
Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.
Warnings: fluff, angst, romance!, mentions of sex, love, confession, kissing, battling of emotions, TENSION!, flower is described to be shorter than Gwi, historical! AU, royal! AU?, cannon copilant (let me know if I missed anything!)
Word Count: 3.4k words
A/N: Hello everyone! I know it has taken me some time to update (sorry about that) but I'll let you know why in another post later but like GUYS, I was so excited to publish this chapter I barely edited O.O Please excuse any grammar mistake, I'll fix it all tomorrow. Promise! ALSO, we are already +60k words 😲 so thank you all so much for all the support, love and enthusiasm this story has received, really thank you. I hope you like this chapter and again, thank you so much!
Enjoy, darlings❤️❤️❤️
Tagging: @my-day6 | @yumisventingmachine | @yukihatesreoyo | @anonymous2828 | @solivagant444 | @emneedshelp |🙈❤️*let me know if you liked to be tagged or if you want me to get you off my taglist!
Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear from you, loves. Enjoy! 🫶🫶🫶
The room was filled with the flickering, dying candles from the day before. The soft petals from the cherry blossom continued to fall on their endless crusade as you slept soundly next to Gwi. Nestled under the covers as your head rested on top of his bare chest. The warmth of his skin against yours kept you under a spell of dreamless rest. One of his hands rested behind his head while the other caressed your back in soothing motions, marvelling at the softness of your skin under his fingertips. Those large hands that had brought death to so many people over decades now held you with tenderness under the covers of your bed.
The long hours of the night stretched on and even as he didn’t sleep, he kept every second of every minute completely mesmerised by your existence next to him.
With a deep softness in his eyes he watched you sleep, taking in the details that marred your beauty. The way your lashes brushed over your skin, how your hair framed your face, the soft parting of your lips that he wished to kiss again. And the way your hand curled against his chest as if you were reaching for him even in your sleep.
It was an image, a dream he could have lived in forever. A painting of perfection that softened the edges of his dark existence.
Gwi shifted slightly, careful not to wake you as his hand moved to brush a stray cherry blossom petal that had landed on your shoulder. His fingers lingered there for a moment, tracing the line of your collarbone, savouring the intimacy of holding you so close it nearly hurt his frozen heart. You stirred but did not wake. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you snuggled closer to him in your sleep, seeking the warmth of his body as he held you closely.
The sight stirred something deep inside him, something that had long been dormant. The way you trusted him so completely, so utterly, unaware of the danger you lay beside. You didn’t know what he was—what he truly was—and he intended to keep it that way.
His hand moved to your hair, his fingers tangling the silky (h/c) stands as he whispered words that were not meant for you to hear. Said only for the shadows to witness among his aching heart.
“If only you knew… just how precious you are to me, petal.”
The weight of his words hung heavy in the stillness of the room. There was a possessiveness in his voice, but also a tenderness that he hadn’t felt in what seemed like a lifetime. You had changed something in him, stirred feelings he thought he had long since buried.
But with those feelings came a fierce protectiveness—a desire to shield you from everything, including the truth. You saw him as your protector, your lover, and that was all he wanted to be for you. You didn’t need to know about the darkness that coursed through his veins, the centuries of bloodshed and loneliness that had shaped him into what he was now.
You didn’t need to know that the man sleeping beside you, the man who held you oh so tenderly, the man who whispered sweet promises of eternal love; was not a man at all.
Gwi’s hand stilled in your head as he leaned down and pressed a delicate kiss on the top of your head. The scent of you, the sweet blood that coursed through your veins, the rose scent that clung to your body like a shadow, the delectable aroma of the cherry blossom and the perfume of your skin was intoxicating to him in a way that made his fangs hurt in a way he had to fight to suppress. His eyes threatened to taint crimson with his desires and his pulse accelerated.
But then, you stirred again, taking in a deep breath as your eyes fluttered open. You woke up slowly, feeling loved and warmth as a content hum escaped the back of your throat the moment you realised—you remembered—where you were. Who you were with.
“Morning…”
It came out as a whisper, your voice still thick with the remnants of sleep as you shifted and looked up at Gwi.
“Morning, my flower.”
His voice was low and smooth, the way it always was when he spoke to you. There was a moment of silence as you simply stared at each other in a soft waltz of spring love. Your fingers traced soft patterns over his chest as you basked in the warmth that surrounded you and the soft light of the flickering candles.
“How long have you been awake?”
You asked, yawning cutely as you pressed yourself closer to him; if that was even possible. Gwi chuckled, a rare yet delicious deep sound that rumbled through his chest as his eyes never left yours.
“A while.”
“You should have woken me up.”
One of his large hands came up, gently cradling your cheek in his large palm while his thumb ran over the smooth skin of your face.
“I didn’t want to”
His fingers brushed a strand of hair, tucking it behind your ear.
“I wanted to let you rest, my sweet flower. You looked peaceful. It looks like I tired you too much last night.”
A deep blush tainted your cheeks at the mention of last night. You broke eye contact and he smirked lovingly down at your sudden shyness. You remembered his soft promises of love, his passionate touches and his kisses of fire. The way he had made you reach such euphoric sensations over and over again until you fell asleep in his arms. Gwi had awakened something primal within you, but it was something that had always been his to claim. Your pleasure was his to own and possess, and there was no-one else in the world you’d have given yourself to as you did to him last night.
You smiled, feeling the love in his teasing words, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more behind his gaze. Something hidden in the depths of his eyes that he wasn’t telling you. But you dismissed the thought, choosing instead to sink back into the moment, the comfort of his touch and the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear.
“I could stay like this forever.”
He hummed softly at your murmured words after a beat of silence passed between you both. And yet his peace was shattered by your words. Forever was a powerful word. His eyes darkened as he looked down at your peaceful features relaxed next to him. And it became pretty obvious that that was the exact thing he couldn't give you. Forever. But the truth was like a shadow over a beautiful spring afternoon, obscuring the sun and shattering what little hope of happiness he had.
For him, forever was real. But for you, the idea was far more fragile than what he could elaborate.
Still, his arms tightened around you, wishing too that this single moment could stretch on to eternity. Gwi had to anchor his racing and anxious mind with the feel of your body against his as if he could keep you with him by sheer will alone despite the cruel inevitability of time.
“You will always be mine, flower.”
His voice was soft, words whispered to the wind that was more of a promise to him than to you. And as the cherry blossoms continued their gentle descent, Gwi vowed once again to protect you from everything—even the truth—if it meant keeping you by his side.
You stood in your room, putting on a beautiful hanbok where the top was a delicate shade of coral pink, hugged your figure just enough to showcase its simplicity and grace. A ribbon tied neatly at the waist held the fabric in place, its pristine white accents framing the cuffs and collar, providing a gentle contrast to the vibrant top.
While the skirt flowed like a whisper around your legs, its soft beige fabric textured and light, catching the air with every movement you made. The skirt, full and graceful, seemed to glide along the ground, its layers revealing just the faintest hint of lace beneath, intricate and refined. The combination of textures, from the smooth silk of the jeogori to the gentle folds of the chima, gave you an ethereal quality, as though you were a vision from a forgotten era.
Gwi watched you with tender eyes as he lay on your bedding, his outer robe opened and displaying his honey skin beneath the fabric as he leaned on his elbow and watched you with a mixture of admiration and desire.
His keen eyes watched as you applied some rose powder on your cheeks, highlighting your cheeks. A cherry red paper was caught between your lips as you bit it softly to add colour to your kissable lips.
“How are you so beautiful?”
His dark murmur made you freeze in your spot, your eyes flickered to him through the mirror as you smiled softly, adding more beauty to your already ethereal features the vampire was so enamoured with.
“How are you so handsome?”
The vampire lord chuckled, the sound a deep and smooth, like a rumble from a fading thunder storm during summer. His dark eyes gleamed with a deep intensity, making you feel as if he could see right through the layers of soft fabric and straight into your very soul.
“You flatter me,”
You gulped at the sound of his voice as it sent a shiver down your spine. Your eyes locked with his through the mirror.
“But no matter how handsome you think I am, it pales in comparison to the way you captivate me, petal. I could watch you for a thousand years and never tire of the sight.”
You turned from the mirror, your cheeks warming at his words, though you tried to play it off with a teasing smile.
“A thousand years? You do say the most impossible thing, Lord of my heart.”
His gaze darkened for a moment. A split second as he took in your shy words. He pushed himself up fully, standing in a slow, graceful movement that had you mesmerised. His robe slipped further open, exposing more of his toned chest, but it was his eyes that held you, deep and unwavering.
“And yet, here you are. Defying the impossible everytime I look at you.”
Gwi murmured as he stood behind you in just a few quick steps. One of his hands rested on your shoulder, his skin touching the fabric that covered your body from his eyes, his touch light but filled with reverence.
Your eyes met his through the mirror once more, feeling the intensity in his gaze, the many things that were left unspoken between you both. For they existed in a language neither of you spoke but could only feel. His words, the way he looked at you—had a powerful weight to it. Something more than just the affection between lovers and tangled souls. Something deeper. Something darker.
It was as if he spoke of things far beyond your understanding, of promises you hadn’t yet made but that he already felt.
His long, pale fingers found the delicate strands of your hair as it fell over your back, reaching near your hip as you looked at how mesmerised he was at simply touching you in such an innocent way.
The candles flickered ominously as you observed the subtle line of concentration as he began playing with your hair. Running his fingers through the strands before he began twisting it and braiding it with a tenderness that belied the anger he had felt when he had taken you out of the burning mansion that once belonged to your father but was now left in crumbled ruins.
His long fingers, usually so strong and decisive, now worked with surprising gentleness as he gathered strands of your hair and wove them together with a focus that made your heart flutter.
“I’m not doing it right, am I?”
He muttered, his tone uncharacteristically unsure. He paused in his braiding to look at his handiwork, a few strands slipping loose despite his careful efforts. You turned your head slightly, peeking at the mess he had made in the mirror, a soft laugh escaping your lips.
“It’s perfect.”
You smiled up at him as you said it but Gwi huffed, not at all convinced yet your smile and the way you had laughed at the silly moment softened his frustration. He leaned forward, resting his chin on the top of your head as he looked at you through the mirror.
“You are a terrible liar.”
A soft giggle escaped your lips and he adored the sound, loving the way your eyes squeezed at the action of laughing or how your nose scrunched ever so softly.
“Perhaps, but it’s still sweet that you tried.”
Your hand held the slightly uneven braid before you stepped forward and reached over the small table next to the mirror for your red rose hairpin, the one he had given you what seemed like moons ago.
Gwi watched as you rolled up the braid before you secured it with the hairpin, a few strands framed your face as you looked at your reflection and he was sure you were a portrait from an ancient dream of his. There was no way you were so beautiful, so enchanting before his eyes. You had a light within yourself. A light that reached even his dark world he had been drowning in for centuries.
A sudden melancholy flashed through his eyes as he remembered the secret he held from you. The nature of his existence and how he could never tell you but knowing that, eventually, you are going to be aware of the monster that he is. And even if he could stop the sun from showing up everyday, there was no way he’d be able to hide it forever.
His gaze lingered on your reflection a little too long, that unspoken weight you often saw hidden behind his affection glinting in his dark eyes. You turned around, your smile faltering a bit as you looked up at Gwi.
“What is it?”
Gwi’s eyes shifted, the darkness in them deepening for a moment before he forced a smile that didn’t quite reach them. He straightened, pulling away slightly, his hands slipping from your shoulders to rest at his sides. His lips parted as if he wanted to answer, but no sound came. His silence filled the room, stretching between you like an invisible barrier.
You stepped closer, your fingers brushing the fabric of his robe, and the touch seemed to pull him back from whatever shadowed thoughts held him. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin with the same tenderness he had shown while braiding your hair. But now, there was something else in his gaze—something heavy, something unrelenting. A weight he carried alone, and you could feel it, even if you didn’t understand it. Or he didn’t let you understand.
“Nothing.”
He had said. His voice was soft but tinged with shadows you weren’t able to chase away with your worrying gaze and deep love. It sounded strained, rehearsed even.
“It’s nothing, my flower.”
But you knew he spoke lies with that deep voice of his you loved so much. There was a sadness within him, a grief he wore like an armour. A melancholy he had never let you touch, never let you truly see. But in moments like this, it slipped. His control, his composure, his walls of ice cracked beneath the pressure of your love and you began seeing, if only a glimpse of the dark secrets he carried within the heart you now treasured as your own life.
“Don’t lie to me, love. I can see it in your eyes. There's something you are not telling me.”
His jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, you thought he might tell you the truth—whatever it was that lingered in the dark corners of his soul. But instead, he sighed, his hand falling from your face as he stepped back, putting distance between you that felt far more significant than just the space in the room.
“I’m not lying. There are simply things that I cannot explain.”
You stared up at him, his words sounded harsher than before. Cold. Detached. And you hated it how he pulled you so close you were suffocating within his existence or he pushed you away as if you were nothing but a burden in his complicated life.
And yet, you couldn’t deny the pain his words carried. A pain that cuts through you like a knife. You wanted to reach out, to hold him and listen to whatever burdened his soul but you knew Gwi. you had known him for years now. He was a complicated man. A man of secrets. A man who carried knowledge and conscience that seemed from forgotten times. And you felt that no matter how close you were, how tenderly he held you nor how fiercely he protected you; there would always be parts of him that he’d keep in the shadows of his mind.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
He asked. He nearly pleaded. But his sentence only caused you to blink.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m breaking your heart.”
His voice dropped, barely above a whisper and your heart clenched at the sight of him. Gwi's eyes, which once held you captive with their intensity, now seemed lost, distant, as though he stood on the edge of something he couldn’t face. His vulnerability, something he guarded so fiercely, cracked open for just a moment. A single second before his gaze hardened again. He took a deep breath and straightened up, running a hand through his dark locks.
“I will not ask you to tell me something you don’t want. I have always respected you and I will always love you. Just know that I am here for you. If you ever feel you want to tell me something, love, I promise I’ll listen.”
Gwi smirked down at you. A smirk that was meant to tease you, to make you laugh as well. But you saw the devastation in his eyes at the simple action that tried to mask his burdening grief.
“I know you will, petal.”
He leaned down toward you, his lips pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and you closed your eyes. Your hands itching to pull him closer, to allow him to feel the warmth of your love but he retreated too soon. As Gwi pulled away, the cold air of his absence wrapped around you like a shroud, and the gentle warmth of his kiss on your forehead faded too quickly. You opened your eyes, catching a glimpse of him retreating, the distance he created growing heavier with each step. You could feel it—the space between you becoming a chasm too vast to bridge, filled with the weight of the secrets he kept buried in his heart.
For a moment, you just stood there, staring at his broad back as he turned to face the imposing cherry blossom tree, the soft candlelight illuminating the sharp angles of his face. He was lost in his own world again, the one he wouldn’t let you touch. And even though you understood that Gwi was a man of mystery, a man tied to a past he seemed to run away from, it didn’t make the ache in your chest any less painful.
You stepped forward, standing next to him as your hand slipped into his bigger one. The touch warm against his cool skin as you stared at the tree of the pink petals as well.
“I don’t need to know everything. I don’t care about your past. I don’t care what you have done or what you think you deserve. What matters is who you are now. Who you are with me.”
He turned to look down at you, the strength in his eyes staring at you that it nearly took your breath away. His hands squeezed yours. Knowing you spoke from a heart that was no longer yours. But despite all the love that now poured over him like a waterfall, he knew nothing would ever be the same if you were to know he was a vampire.
“I will always be your protector. Your lover. The Lord of your heart. Forevermore.”
You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder as you took in his presence, his strength, his secrets and his treasures. His shadows and his stars.
“That’s all I need.”
September/13/2024
A/N: Want to be tagged? Let me know in the comments!
Thoughts? O.O
My inbox is open, darlings! Or feel free to leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts and inputs for the story! Take care, everyone 🫶
~ Masterpost
#sanctuary1988#lee soo hyuk#kdrama#kdrama series#the scholar who walks the night#gwi#kactor#gwi x reader fluff#gwi x reader#gwi x reader angst#scholar who walks the night#lee soo hyuk characters#vampire#korean drama#korean actor#les pétals d'amour#vampire gwi
32 notes
·
View notes
Note
@electricnachos i just found my notes from when i read proximity and ripped all my hair out and ik you don’t read fic but let me give better context. this is literally. the opening to the whole thing. so when i say the paternity hug makes me feel like a host for demonic possession it’s because of that line about rest
Okay but the Paternity hug.
Not only is it thanking her.
But he was the only person to really care that she was safe after the accident. He could have lost her, too.
don’t make me bring proximity into this
but also “you’re okay” -elliot stabler imaginary friend and elliot stabler who imagines liv being happy to self soothe. he’s telling her and he’s telling himself She’s Okay Olivia is Okay she’s not mine but she’s okay 🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮
#searched the word paternity in my posts felt like i was being slowly poisoned#sorry to the rest of you who have real deep memories attached to this fic unfortunately EYE read it a few months ago so the pain is stillne#?#in a parallel universe (semper fi)
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
And Onto Further Stillnes
Chapter 18
Notes:
Characters: Gale, Yrelia, Tara Rating: Mature Warnings: PTSD, chronic pain, slight body horror, sexual content Notes: the idea of the orb leaving Gale permanently damaged makes me rub my hands together like villain
Gale woke up with a gasp. His heart pounded, his ears rang, and his brow was sweaty.
Calm down. Calm down. If you don’t keep calm…
He looked around the room. It was practically spotless. It couldn’t possibly be this spotless. Not with his condition, not with the orb. With his heart racing he sat up. He ran his hand down his face and breathed deeply. He looked around the room again, looking for Tara. He blinked in surprise when he found Tara sleeping on the chest of a woman.
A woman?
Right, not just any woman, but Yrelia . His love, his fiancée, his savior.
The past year started to slowly play in his mind. The abduction, the tadpoles, Mind Flayers, falling in love again, finally feeling content with his life.
He let out a breath and laid back down. He watched Yrelia shift and bring her hand up to stroke Tara’s fur. A tired hum came from her throat and she opened her eyes. She looked at him in a sleepy, confused state.
“Gale?” She said softly. “What’s wrong?"
“It’s nothing, my love.” Her weary eyes focused and she stared at him with such clarity that he knew exactly what was going on in her head. He sighed. He reached out and brushed his fingers across her cheekbone. “Apologies,” he murmured. “I don’t wish to worry you.”
“It’s eleven months too late for that.”
He let out a breath that was close to a chuckle. “I suppose that is true. I am fine, dearest, it’s but a bad dream. Some memories of the past that felt all too real.” He ran his hand down Tara’s spine and her ears twitched.
“I see,” Yrelia said. A slight frown appeared on her lips.
“Mister Dekarios,” Tara yawned and both Gale and Yrelia turned their attention to her. “It is unwise to ignore such an intense emotion.” She stood up on Yrelia’s chest and stretched. She flew up into the air. “I’m going to see if there are any pigeons who decided to find their way to our tower.”
Gale watched Tara fly out of the room before sighing. Yrelia sat up and turned to the lamp on her nightstand. She lit the lamp and a warm light made the room glow. The gold paint on the ceiling sparkled and the silver thread on the comforter shone. Yrelia’s little grey hairs were illuminated and the way a small curl bounced its way out of her braid was quite captivating.
Her cotton nightgown strap fell off of her shoulder as she sat against the headboard. Gale sighed and sat up next to her. They sat in silence for long moments. Which was Gale’s doing, of course. He needed to be the one to say something, he needed to initiate conversation about this fault of his.
Yrelia yawned and Gale could see how tired she was. He chastised himself for getting cold feet and avoiding conversation, making her stay up longer than she needed to be. He was the one who was always asking for more time in bed in the mornings. Yrelia was always up and ready to go when she had a full night’s rest.
He was always doing this to her. Always somehow waking her up when this happened. He sighed. How much more of a burden on her could he be? Wasn’t he supposed to take care of her in this life? Wasn’t he supposed to be the one who healed her wounds, calmed her soul, kissed her tears?
She took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips. She kissed his wrist softly. Gale felt himself becoming choked up.
“I can hardly believe this is all real,” he croaked. Yrelia tugged on his hand to pull him towards her. She laid his head in her lap and started to run her fingers through his hair. “It doesn’t feel real to be this content. When I dream of my time with the orb, it feels real. Perhaps that is my reality and this is simply a dream that I escape to when I can’t take the pain anymore. It would make sense that I would dream of someone who would tolerate my existence the way you do.”
“I assure you that this is real,” she said, caressing his cheek and rubbing his cheekbone with her thumb. “The orb has been removed and you’re safe at home.” He breathed and rubbed his chest. “And I don’t tolerate you. I love you.”
Love?
Yes, love.
It was a sweet love. It felt new, refreshing, and so, so incredibly warm. He had never felt something like this before, no one had ever loved him so purely, so selflessly. She was his everything, his light in the dark, a helping hand as he gasped for air while being buried alive. Her unrestricted devotion, her stubborn dedication. He had told her he would do anything to prove himself worthy of her.
And he had come so close to losing her because of his own hubris.
When she smiled at him, when she greeted him with a kiss, when she curled into him in their bed, he had to fight off the memory of her looking so hurt while she asked if a life together would ever be enough for him. To think he made the woman he loved so dearly feel as if she wasn’t enough…he’s not sure he could ever forgive himself even if she had.
“I love you, too,” he breathed. “If not for you…” he trailed off before speaking up again, “I surely wouldn’t be as happy as I am now.” He covered her hand with his.
“Where would I be if not with you?”
He let out a breath that felt like a pathetic chuckle. “I’m sure any one of our companions would have enthusiastically formed a bond like ours with you.”
Yrelia hummed. “I suppose,” she said thoughtfully. “But I wasn’t interested in anyone but you. Do I have no say in who I am with?” Yrelia laced their fingers together.
“Of course you do,” he said. “All I meant was-”
Yrelia covered his mouth with her hand. “I know what you meant.” She uncovered his mouth. “Unfortunately for you, you now have to deal with the consequences of making me fall in love with you.”
“I don’t recall making you do so,” he said, starting to smile. “That was your own ill-advised decision.”
“Hm, good point. Well, next time a very cute and chatty wizard pops out of a glyph I will make sure to not fall in love with them.”
He chuckled lightly. ‘My lady…” Yrelia smiled down at him. She resumed running her fingers through his hair and he was brought back to his lesson. The simple image that he could only dream about was his reality. Yrelia was here. She was now. She was in his bed, in his home, in his life. She had followed him to Waterdeep and became a permanent figure within his tower.
Yrelia yawned again and Gale blinked. He had dozed off as his future wife ran her fingers through his hair. Gale sat up and rubbed his face. He looked at his tired partner and leaned in and kissed her lips.
“You’re wonderful,” he said and she smiled. He laid on his side of the bed and opened his arms. Yrelia’s smile grew and she snuffed out the lamp. She curled into him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing a kiss into his throat. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she murmured. “Get some sleep, love. We don’t need you slipping into your old habits of staying up all night.” She kissed his throat again. “I like falling asleep with you far too much for that.”
Gale smiled.
And he tried to fall asleep. He very much did try, but he needed to feel Yrelia in his arms. He needed to feel that this was his reality. That the orb was gone, that the tadpole was gone, that he wasn’t dead. It really was difficult to believe reality when everything had gone wrong so quickly, and then his suffering was so long.
And now…it just wasn’t that way.
He was home, he was engaged, he had coworkers, colleagues, companions, and friends. Tara was here, Morena and Lillian were safe, and Yrelia was holding onto him. She pressed kisses to his skin, she tiredly mumbled “I love you” to him.
All that should be left from his time with the orb was his faded scars.
“You’re scarred,” Yrelia softly said one night in an inn on the way to Waterdeep. Her fingers brushed against his cheek. She laid atop him, both of them calming down after they decided to not fall asleep once they laid in bed.
Gale gently ran his hand up her naked back, leaning into her touch. “I’m afraid so,” he said and smiled when she kissed his cheek. “I had hoped that this wouldn’t be the case but it’s to be expected.”
Yrelia fingered his neck. “I suppose you’re right,” she murmured. “Still, I had hoped that it wouldn’t leave such scarring. The color is gone but…” she sighed.
“Magic rarely leaves things unscathed,” he said. “It’s as dangerous as it is beautiful.” He kissed her. “Much like someone I know.”
She chuckled. “Hm? And who is this someone? I think I’d like to meet the person who caught Gale Dekarios’s eye.”
Dekarios.
The way she said it sounded so sweet. He could practically taste the sugar in his mouth as she said his name that had almost been forgotten to his ambition.
Gale brought his hand up to her face and cupped her cheek. “Well, she might be in this very room,” he whispered. “And for some reason or another she agreed to spend her life with me.”
Yrelia’s eyes softened. She smiled and kissed him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Gale stared at Yrelia’s soft face as she slept. The sun shone on her face as she slept peacefully. Perhaps he should wait to bring her breakfast. He had assumed she would have awoken by now.
She shifted in her sleep and her nose twitched. She hummed and took in a deep breath. She blinked open her eyes and stared at him.
“Beloved,” she yawned. “You didn’t have to.” She smiled as he placed the tray in her lap after she sat up.
“Ah, but I wanted to,” he said and kissed her temple. “I’d hardly call myself the perfect husband if I can’t present you breakfast in bed every once in a while.”
Yrelia hummed and then kissed his cheek. She lifted her coffee mug to her lips and sipped. She closed her eyes with a smile. “So you couldn’t get back to sleep then?”
Gale opened his mouth and closed it. “How did you know?”
“You look exhausted,” she said and sipped her coffee again. “And you don’t do breakfast in bed very often because you like to sleep in.”
“My lady,” he groaned. “Please don’t point out one of my many flaws.”
Yrelia laughed. “Gale, it’s not a flaw. I think it’s cute.” She pinched his cheek. “You’re not perfect and I like you that way.” She kissed him. “Thank you,” she said warmly. “This was very sweet of you. I am so lucky to be marrying you.”
He let out a breath. He was actually the lucky one. He watched Yrelia take the hair roller out of her bangs, making them sit perfectly on her forehead. Her pretty black hair with little bits of silver. He understood why she liked his grey hair so much, he loved hers. Little strands that let him know that she had lived for three and half decades, that she had aged gracefully, that she had wisdom from her experiences.
He wished he could see his own grey with such positivity. Now it just reminded him of his folly, of what he once was, of his trauma and stress.
“What’s with the look?” Yrelia said as she ate her omelet.
“Look?” He questioned.
“Yes. It’s the one you get when you’re thinking too hard about something.” She looked at him with a smile, her laugh lines were so cute.
“I am…thinking about aging,” he said.
“And what about aging?”
“Well,” he said and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. “I like your laugh lines,” he said and her smile grew. “And your grey hair.”
She chuckled. “Well, I’m not so sure the more prominent grey is from aging, to be honest,” she said and started to take her hair from her braid. “Some of it is, but I did raise a child.”
Gale felt that foggy awkwardness in his chest, like he always did when she mentioned raising someone. It was strange, it really was. His love was thirty-five and she already raised a child into an adult. She had spent so much of her life raising someone while Gale was able to be young, reckless, and was able to have fun. Cyr was a well behaved, well respected young adult and it was because of Yrelia’s efforts that he was so.
Yrelia spoke to Morena and Lillian about raising children. She gave advice to Lillian so smoothly, so expertly because she had raised a child. She went through picky eating, scraped knees, and stubborn teenage years. She had wisdom that Gale would never achieve because it was something he didn’t want. He knew if Yrelia changed her mind about children that he would as well. He had thought about raising a child with her but it was just a fleeting thought. Just a simple curiosity and nothing more.
He was happy with just the two of them.
“I know,” he said softly. He reached up and took a curl into his finger. “And it’s quite admirable that you did so.”
Yrelia laughed. “I suppose,” she said. “It gave me grey hair, newfound patience, and an appreciation of peace and quiet.”
“Two of those things you need for your husband.”
She laughed again. “Darling, you are nothing compared to a fourteen year old who became so embarrassed and mad at me because I caught him trying to skinny dip with the cow farmer’s daughter.”
“What did the cow farmer say?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell him. I just told the kids that they better get dressed before they learned the meaning of naked and afraid. They did because they didn’t want him to know.” She finished her omelet. “Cyr didn’t speak with me for almost two days out of embarrassment.”
“Can’t say I’d blame him,” Gale said flatly.
Yrelia laughed. “Well, either way, he ended up thanking me for not telling her father. Now those two kids have their own kid to raise.”
That’s nearly six years, Gale realized. Cyr had been with Amber for six years. They were still young, of course, but it made Gale think of when he teased Yrelia about meeting each other when they were younger. He was certain that she would have been good for him. He knew that they would be together for the rest of their lives, but it didn’t stop him from wishing he had met her when he was still figuring out his life. He was certain his life would be far different.
Then again he supposed he would have become a father at that age, which Gale wouldn’t have wanted. More depressingly, he would have looked right through Yrelia if she had had Cyr on her hip despite him being her brother. And Mystra had already become his teacher, no doubt she already had plans for him in his younger twenties so…
Gale sighed and pressed a kiss into Yrelia’s temple.
“You’re thinking too hard again,” Yrelia said with a smile. “You know, my love, I don’t mind when you speak your thoughts out loud. I actually enjoy it.”
“It's nothing I would enjoy speaking about,” Gale said, hoping he didn’t sound too short with her. “I was thinking of my younger self compared to yours. You were far more mature than I was.”
Yrelia laughed. “Well, I wish I hadn’t been,” she said. “I would have loved to be reckless and have fun.” She sighed. “But that was never the life for me. It probably isn’t what the gods intended for me, either, if they even had a say in it. I stopped caring about what they thought about me long ago.”
Gale had only very recently begun to stop caring about the gods and their whims. It’s hard to find purpose in worshiping when the goddess you dedicated your everything to wanted you dead. Now Gale had nightmares and phantom pains because the goddess he had loved so deeply abandoned him when he truly needed her.
But, he supposed, that despite the hurt, the abandonment, and the loss of his prowess, he had Yrelia now.
And Yrelia was worth all of that.
“Ah, it’s really coming down,” Yrelia said, looking out of the window in the kitchen. She wore comfortable loungewear and Gale’s housecoat.
Gale walked up behind her and looked out the window. “Hmm, so it seems,” he said. “This heavy snow does seem a bit early for the beginning of winter.” He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. He stared at the quickly falling snow with a cold wind. “How’s your hip?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” she said quietly and Gale knew that was her way of saying that it could be much worse. “How are you feeling?” She asked as she leaned into him.
“Better,” he lied. “I have you to thank for that."
Paying for mistakes was a given in Gale’s life. To say he regretted the orb would be an understatement. He has carried on, however. With the orb removed and his new appreciation for life, things have improved significantly.
The unfortunate problem was some of those side effects never completely left. Between realistic nightmares, phantom pains in his chest, and the unavoidable chronic pain he had developed, it was hard to act as if the orb hadn’t completely been erased. He knew the damned thing was removed and appearances wise the fading scars were all that was left.
If it was only that easy.
A small smile appeared on her face and her brows twitched. “All I’ve done is eat the breakfast you made for me,” she chuckled. She turned and kissed him. “I better get dressed,” she said. “I need to go to the market and pick up some ingredients for dinner. I planned on a nice, warm meal for everyone tonight.” She kissed him again.
“I’ll go,” he offered like an idiot. “There’s no need for such a beautiful lady to go out in this weather.”
Yrelia laughed. “Gale, I’ll be fine. I can handle this even if I’m not used to it.”
“My lady, I must insist,” he said like an idiot again. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “How could I not stop my darling future wife from braving this weather?” He picked up her warm and rough hands and kissed them. “I am far more accustomed to running around in this weather than you are.” Yrelia smiled at him softly. “Please, stay home and relax by the hearth, I will be back shortly.”
She stared up at him for a moment before kissing him. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” he said with a smile. “I want nothing more than to take care of you, Lia. If that means making a hard trek into the Trades District then that’s what I’ll do.”
Gale had to think of Yrelia’s smile and kiss as he walked through the snow. This was a particularly nasty early winter storm. Snow squalls, blistering winds, devastatingly cold temperatures, and the daylight was completely clouded over. It had him wishing that he had stayed home with her, insisting that they didn’t need this special meal to feed the two of them and their family.
He looked at the list that Yrelia had written out for him. Pumpkin, broth, leeks, cream, even more flour than they already had, no doubt she would be using the herbs, onions, and garlic from her garden, and of course the spices from the variety in the cupboard.
So she was making pumpkin soup and a loaf of bread. That sounded…heavenly.
The idea of coming home and having a partner fix him a warm meal while he let a warm hearth sink into his bones was something he was sure he would never achieve, but here he was, buying groceries for his fiancée. Granted, he was in pain and exhausted, he probably should have just let Yrelia go shopping instead of trying to be a gentleman, but her food was always worth it.
He didn’t stop at groceries, of course. He went to the bakery, drawn in by the lovely smell of vanilla. The baker grinned at him and asked if he was buying something for Yrelia again. He offered the citrus cake and the cinnamon rolls. He even offered a nice lemon pie that Gale was certain Yrelia would love.
He decided on the citrus cake, the idea of a nice upside down cake was too nice to leave behind.
He gathered his cake and the groceries and started on his way home. He was ready to be home. To lay his head in Yrelia’s lap as she ran her fingers through his hair. Perhaps that would make the pain and exhaustion disappear.
Today…was not a good day, he realized.
Barely any sleep, constant and annoying pain, and he was starting to understand Yrelia’s negative attitude about going out in the snow. He was used to calm days in his tower during the snow. Sitting fireside, drinking warm cider, a warm blanket over his lap while he was engaged in a book.
Yrelia had worked in cold weather, she had taken care of a child in cold weather, she had to make meals in cold weather.
Gale took in a deep and cold breath that felt like his lungs were filled with ice. Yrelia had done so much more in cold weather than he was currently. He would make it home and spend the rest of the day ignoring the pain. He’ll be fine. He could just take a potion for the pain when he arrived home.
He walked into his warm tower, the fire in the sitting room roaring. It sank into his bones, slowly but surely thawing them. He took off his hat, coat, and boots and let out a sigh.
“Lia?” He called. No answer. Gale hummed, knowing she was probably in the garden. He walked into the kitchen and placed the bag of groceries and the cake on the counter.
“Ah, Mister Dekarios, you’re home,” Tara said from the counter, standing up to stretch. “You look positively chilled to the bone!”
“It is absolutely horrid,” he grunted. “It seems Waterdeep mid-winter has become early winter.”
Tara stared at him for a moment before sighing. She opened her mouth but was interrupted by Yrelia walking into the kitchen.
“Welcome home, love,” she said and placed her hand on his back, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He hummed and she grinned, allowing him to kiss her lips. Her sweet lips that tasted of cinnamon and coffee made his heart pound and his lips warm. Had they been alone and had he not been in pain he would have deepened the kiss, kissing her like he’d never do it again.
But he was in an uncomfortable amount of pain.
It wasn’t a horrible amount and he had been in far worse pain. No, this pain was subtle, it was under his skin, pricking him, his blood felt like broken glass, his lungs still felt like they were filled with ice. It was exhausting. Coupled with his aching hands had made it seem all the worse.
So the orb permanently hurt him; chronic flare ups were hardly uncommon but then with his back that was known to spasm, his aching knees that just seemed to never go away, and then his hands, his hands, that were starting to ache and cramp more and more, he understood that perhaps he would never achieve again what he once was.
Which he had accepted long ago and with Yrelia by his side saying she loved him as he was, that he was what she wanted, it didn’t particularly bother him.
But he was a wizard whose hands were cramped .
How unreasonably embarrassing.
“I made more coffee,” she said, breaking his thoughts. “You look like you need some.”
“Yes, you are without a doubt correct,” he breathed out and walked to the carafe. “What are you making for dinner?” He asked, despite knowing what she was making. Anything to change the conversation from his current state.
“I thought I would make my pumpkin soup for you.” She grinned so cutely. “Cyr used to beg me for it all the time, even when pumpkin was out of season,” she said fondly. “I wrote down the recipe for him to make on his own but he said that it wasn’t the same,” she laughed. Gale sipped his coffee. He planted a kiss right on her forehead. She smiled. She tilted her head up and he kissed her lips. Her brows rose as they parted and she took his cold face in her hands. “Gale, you’re freezing, go stand by the fire and warm yourself.” They kissed again.
He smiled and stepped away from her, setting aside his mug. He walked to the fire in the sitting room and stuck his hands out, feeling the heat from him. His face twitched as his hands starting to spasm. He rubbed between his index and thumb with a pained expression.
He heard a sigh and saw Tara’s concerned expression.
“Mister Dekarios,” she called. “You need to take better care of yourself. Have you told Miss Rosewood about your hands yet?”
Gale frowned, making a fist slowly and then releasing. “She doesn’t need to concern herself with simple matters such as this.”
Tara sighed again, this time with disapproval. “She will be most upset if she finds you’ve been hiding something from her.”
Gale was silent because he knew Tara was right. He could practically see the crease in Yrelia’s brow, the way her lips would twist into a small frown, somewhere between concern and disapproval. He didn’t answer Tara and she sighed for the third time, clearly frustrated with him.
Yrelia walked into the sitting room with a warm but concerned smile. “You look exhausted, beloved,” she said softly. “Why don’t you rest your eyes? Everyone will be over for dinner tonight and I doubt you’ll want to deal with small children and a four month old baby while you’re tired.”
He let out a sigh because Yrelia was one hundred percent correct, but he also needed to prove to himself that he could power through all of this. It had been months since the orb was in his chest, why did it still have to plague him the way it did? And, gods, his hands really hurt.
“Lia,” he said. “I’ll be alright,” he said like the air had been stolen from his lungs.
That smile faded and her brows twitched. Something flashed her eyes that told him that she didn’t believe him. “Gale, please don’t lie to me. I only wish to help,” she said, her voice gentle but still firm.
He swallowed and let out a breath. The idea of Yrelia being upset with him was enough to make his heart still and his stomach churn. That was far more important than any pride he managed to cling to.
He heard Tara sigh from her spot on the couch. It was a sigh that very much told him “I told you so.” He stared at Tara annoyed and she stared at him back, a familiar parental stare letting him know she very much disapproved of his decision. He hadn’t seen it in so long…
Gale sighed, massaged his hands, and opened his mouth. “Lia,” he called her. Her brows twitched. “My lady…” he trailed off. She stared at him expectantly. “I shouldn’t hide this from you.”
She relaxed. “I know,” her gentle voice said. “I know you’ve tried to fight this for some time now, but it’s time you allow me to help you.”
Gale blinked. “You’ve known of my…issues?”
“Yes, I have.”
He stared at her, not really sure why this shocked him. Of course she knew. She was so damn smart. “I…why hadn’t you said anything…?” “Hmm, Gale, do you really think that out of the two of us I should be the one answering that question?” He bit his lip. She turned. “Come into the kitchen with me.” He did so following after her much like a hurt puppy. He watched her open the cabinet where the potions and medicine were kept. She pulled out one potion for pain and then another jar he didn’t recognize. “I went to the apothecary the other day.”
“The apothecary?"
“The apothecary,” she confirmed. “You see, my beloved, you think you can hide what’s going on, but I’m far more perceptive than you’re giving me credit for.”
He clenched his teeth. “Lia, I hadn’t meant to make it seem like you weren’t…” he stopped talking, worried about saying the wrong thing to her. He had a talent for putting his foot in his mouth when he spoke to her.
“Gale,” she said his name like a caress to his soul. “You’re in pain. I see it in the way you breathe. The way your brows furrow together like you’re concentrating on just getting through your next step. You’ve been taking more potions for your pain lately and you’ve been trying to massage your hands without me noticing.” He looked at his hands and sighed. “Please don’t hide this from me, Gale, I’m here to help.”
He chuckled bitterly. “This is ridiculous,” he said. “You needn’t worry about me.”
“Well, that’s too bad because I’m worried about you frequently.” She walked over and handed him the pain potion. He sighed and drank it. “I have no idea what kind of pain you’re in but I know it’s not your age and not the weather. Not completely, at least. I know those two aren’t helping.” He sighed, trying not to seem as pathetic as he did. “This is something that my father uses for his arthritis,” she said. “I was able to tell the apothecary the basic components and he was able to figure it out.” She showed him the jar.
He took the jar into his hands and looked it over. His thumb rubbed the label as he read the ingredients. Arnica, camphor, hemp, menthol, peppermint. He opened the jar and stared at the cream. He sighed. “When did you notice?"
“I noticed your hands after the orb had been stabilized,” she said. “That’s one of the reasons why I was always trying to hold them. I wanted to help in any way I could.” Gale thought back to during the quiet moments, she had always grabbed onto his hands, rubbing them, playing with them, and it had helped significantly. “I noticed your body fatigue on a day you went to the Academy. I had thought at first that it was you recovering from the adventure, just like I was doing but…it was different from me. You seemed so tired and you had taken a potion for pain right as you woke up and right before bed. I remember thinking how out of character that was for you so I paid closer attention to when you were like that. I noted the time of day, the temperature, whether it was a clear day, raining, or snowing. I evaluated your mood and how talkative you were. I also made sure to check your appetite and if you had been drinking water, which made me research what foods could help inflammation.”
He breathed. “I don’t know what to say. To know you’ve paid so much attention to my issue, how you’ve already put forth effort into helping me…my love, I am truly unworthy of you.”
“Don’t say that,” her voice was still so gentle. “You’re my love, the one I’ve chosen to be with for all eternity. Do you really think, after everything I’ve told you, that I would choose someone unworthy of me?”
“No. No, of course not. I am…simply not used to someone being so genuine with their care. Aside from my mother, of course.” Tara cleared her throat. “And Tara.”
Yrelia smiled. “I know. You deserve such care. You deserve to feel the efforts made towards you and feel nothing other than love for it.” She sighed with a tired smile. “I wish you would have told me, but I always understood why you didn’t. I didn’t want to push you to explain everything to me when this so clearly pains you.”
He sighed, nearly all of his strength leaving his body. “Yes, I…” He was silent as he stared at her, watching the encouragement on her face, the softest smile, the comforting eyes. He closed his eyes and let out a short breath. “I’m ashamed,” he whispered. He opened his eyes when she didn’t respond, knowing that she meant for him to continue. “I’ve gone from a powerful archmage to a wizard whose hands spasm and cramp. How frightfully embarrassing.”
“Oh, darling,” she said softly. She took the jar from him, her fingers brushing against his. She held his hands in hers, squeezing in a soothing way. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, these things happen.” He sighed, wishing that it was that simple. “But it’s not just your hands, right? It is far more than that.”
“Yes,” he breathed out. “It goes far deeper than hands that like to go numb.” He frowned. “The orb changed my body. I’m still not sure how greatly it affected my body. My blood stings, my body aches, sometimes it feels like I will spiral into a heart attack because of the pain in my chest. It’s as if small needles are pricking the inside of my skin repeatedly and there’s nothing I can do about it.” He felt Yrelia squeeze his hands. “I made a foolish, awful, and nearly irreversible mistake and now it’s following me around like a demon on my back. This is so damn infuriating and I had felt that I would burden you with this knowledge. I had hoped that I could take care of myself alone rather than admit to you that I damaged my body in a lasting way.”
She took in a deep breath and let it out. “Okay,” she said and reached out for his face. “Okay,” she said again, pulling him into an embrace. “You’re not going to deal with this alone because you’re not alone. I’m here for you. For every ache and pain and for every feeling of shame and resentment, I’m here. I love you, I’m going to help, and I’m going to take care of you.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m relieved that you’re here. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
They silently stood in their kitchen at midday. Yrelia gently stroked his back and he did absolutely everything to not break down into tears.
Overwhelming grief, guilt, and exhaustion made his heart fill with so much pain. She had known of his pain and had been trying to help him, and he had just…elected not to ask for her help. In fact, he had changed the subject almost every time she had tried to press him further.
Yrelia pulled away and smiled softly at him. She kissed him. “Come, let me rub the salve on your hands and then you’re going to rest your eyes.”
Gale followed her into the sitting room, holding onto her hand as she led him along. Tara watched them carefully, a worried light in her eyes as she stared at him.
They sat on the couch and Yrelia kissed his hand. She opened the jar and smelled it before gathering some on her fingers.
“This doesn’t take much,” she explained. “I’ll show you. My mother used to rub this into my father’s hands. I watched and saw how much to apply.” She set the jar aside and held out her hand. He stared at her hands. “Darling, I don’t bite.”
“You absolutely do.”
She snorted. A bright and warm smile spread across her lips and it made his heart want to dance. “Gale, just give me your hand.” He placed his right hand into her left one. She slowly started to rub the cream on his hand. He clenched his jaw as she massaged a particularly sore spot.
“I never thought this would happen to me,” he admitted after some silent moments. “I never thought about something so detrimental when I was young and full of ambition. How could anything stop Gale of Waterdeep? He was untouchable.”
She was silent for a moment, focusing on his hand. “When did this start happening?”
He sighed. “I can hardly remember if it was before the orb or after.” He stared at the hand she was rubbing the cream into. “I do know that after the orb it became…apparent, and when we were in the middle of our adventure it became a greater issue. We didn’t exactly have the luxury of shopping around for a balm,” he groused. His hand twitched as she rubbed it. “I’m definitely not who I once was.”
“You aren’t,” she confirmed. “But I don’t really know who you once were aside from the little bit I saw when we first met.” She looked at his face with a smile. He relaxed at her smile. “Besides, you have me to take care of you now. I think I know you well enough to know that you didn’t have someone to rub your hands for you then.”
“No. There was no one.”
“Well, because of you who are now, you have me. And I love you very much.” She leaned in and kissed his lips. “I know that this must be hard on you, but at least now I’m here to take care of you. And remember, I’m always willing to fuss over you. I’ll continue to take care of you everyday, every tenday, every month, and every year that passes us by. Even when we’ve left this world after all our years together, I will find you and continue to take care of you.”
A small smile appeared on his lips. “All our years…” he said lightly. “To think after all this time I’m thinking about growing old, let alone growing old along with someone.” He sighed. “Aging is complicated,” he said to her. She cocked her head. “A chosen of Mystra typically is granted immortality.”
She rubbed his hand, her rough fingers so delicately caressing his skin. “I see.” She had a thoughtful look on her face. She rubbed his wrist with her thumb. A small smile grew on her lips. “Immortality seems lonely, don’t you think?” She asked. “You live forever, but won't the people you love always die?”
“I’ve never thought of it that way, I suppose,” he said. “I was so sure I deserved it. Think of everything I could accomplish with that time. All the power I could accumulate. It never once occurred to me that things would go so poorly.”
She was thoughtfully silent, the way she always was when he spoke about his past and how he used to be. He could see the wheels turning in her mind, thinking of what to say and how to say it. “And you didn’t find any of it lonely?”
“No,” he said with a sad smile. “I had Mystra and Elminster when he decided to show up hungry. Tara, as well, but I had removed her loss from my mind. Of course, once the orb was in my chest I realized how alone I actually was. Even Tara hadn’t been around as often as I had wanted as she was out looking for artefacts for me.” He watched as a sad look grew in her eyes, knowing that she knew exactly how lonely he had felt, because her loneliness haunted her the way it haunted him. “I love you,” he professed. “And thank you.”
“You’re welcome, beloved,” she smiled. “I’m happy to do this for you. What is love if not taking care of each other?” He watched her face as she rubbed his hand, putting pressure down on rough spots. “Now,” she said when she released his hands. “I’ll make sure we keep this stocked up for you. Just ask me whenever you need it and I’ll rub it into your hands.”
“Thank you,” he said softly.
“You’ve already thanked me,” she said and kissed his wrist.
“I know, but you deserve to hear it again,” he said. “And you are right, I was unsatisfied with my life before. Almost everyone I knew wasn’t enough for me,” he sighed. “But you…” he breathed. She was his everything. He cupped her cheek. “I love you, more than I ever thought I was capable of. If all this despair and heartache I’ve gone through means that I met you then it was all worth it. I would go through it all again if it meant you would be here to rub a salve into my hands.”
She blinked. “Truly? Everything?”
“Without a doubt, yes.”
She stared at him silently, clearly thinking about what he said. She let out a breath and then smiled. “I feel the same about you. You’re worth everything to me.”
Gale pulled her in and kissed her. He told her over and over he loved her with his kiss. He loved her more than anything, more than he had ever loved Mystra, more than he could comprehend. He let out an exhausted breath and Yrelia smiled. “It appears that I am more fatigued than I had initially realized,” he mumbled.
“Then I must insist that you take a nap,” Yrelia declared.
She stood up and walked to the armoire where all of the blankets that she had been collecting were. She pulled out a blue wool blanket and walked back over to him. He let out another tired sigh and she leaned in and kissed his forehead. He hardly remembered laying down or Yrelia spreading the blanket over him. He had fallen asleep quickly, only feeling Tara laying on him at some point.
There was faint tapping and clinking of dishware, there was the smell of woodsmoke, and there was the warmth of the hearth. They were all so calming sensations. It made his tower feel like a home. Noises, feelings, smells; things he hadn’t understood he had missed while being a Chosen.
He remembered comforting nights in his mother’s house during the winter. He remembered holidays where almost all of the Dekarios clan came together, drank wine, and celebrated. He remembered being young, still a bit of a scamp, meeting new people, hoping that he would one day find a love to bring to his mother’s house and to family holiday parties.
He hoped to forget the feeling he had while involved with Mystra. That feeling of thinking that all of those memories of warmth and family, of love and care, was something he no longer cared for. How could a Chosen and lover of the goddess of mysteries ever want anything else? How could anything be better than that?
Gale hummed when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He blinked open his eyes and stared at Yrelia’s kind face. He looked her over. She wore a green wool cardigan over a white button up top and a white bow around her neck. Her green, plaid skirt came to her knees. Her hair was nicely curled and half up with a green ribbon. She even had a bit of makeup on.
She wore her union ring around her neck over her clothes. It settled nicely on her chest, proudly displayed as if it was a medal of honor.
“Forgive me, my love,” she said with an apologetic smile. “Everyone will be arriving in a little over an hour. I thought it would be best to wake you so you could get ready.”
“You’re right,” he said while he stretched. “I appreciate you waking me.” Yrelia’s smile grew as he sat up. He reached out for her face, caressing the soft skin of her cheek. “Your outfit is quite sweet.”
She chuckled. “You think?” She took her skirt in her hands and spread it out. “I saw this whole outfit in a thrift shop and I thought it was cute so decided to try it on.” She grinned. “And it fits perfectly.”
“You look lovely,” he said and she smiled. “Now I must decide what to wear so that we both look appealing. I wouldn’t want to look a disheveled mess compared to your magnificent beauty.”
Yrelia laughed. “Darling, I think out of the two of us you are the one who has far more well put together outfits. I’m still trying to fill the closet with clothes I like and also clothes that fit.”
“In due time,” he said and kissed her. “I will be just a moment. I will rinse off, get ready, and come down to help you in any way I can.”
It was when Gale was almost half way up the stairs did he realize how wonderful his tower smelled. A fresh loaf of garlic herb bread, caramelized onions, salt, nutmeg, and mulled wine. He nearly felt guilty about not helping Yrelia cook their meal for their little get-together but he had desperately needed to rest his eyes.
He showered and dried off. He stared at his clothes, wondering if there was anything similar to Yrelia’s so that they could look like they planned their outfits. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much that matched his love, aside from a whimsical emerald green sweater that had some golden thread stitched patterns.
He grabbed a green ribbon from Yrelia’s vanity after he was dressed and walked to the kitchen. He watched Yrelia at the stove, leaning over the pot of mulled wine. She hummed softly as she took a whiff of the concoction, then she tasted it. She picked up a jar of cinnamon sticks and threw another in. She stirred, still while humming and with an absolutely breathtaking smile on her face.
She blinked and looked at him, her smile warming him far better than the stove. “You’ve caught me staring into the wine,” she chuckled.
“I caught you mulling over the wine.”
Yrelia snorted.
As he started to walk to her she started speaking again. “I used to make this,” she said. “When I was younger the woman I was in love with taught me how to make it. I would make it for my friends before they moved away,” she explained. Gale leaned in and kissed her nose. “There’s also some cider for Amber and Cyr. He may be an adult now but he still hasn’t grown into alcohol.” She laughed softly.
Gale took her hands and pulled her away from the stove. He lifted her hand and twirled her, her skirt dancing as she did. “And now you’re making it for our family. I’m sure everyone will be pleased with your wine,” he said and her smile grew.
“Hopefully it’s to everyone’s taste,” she said as he placed his hand on her hip and then started to sway. “Now that I’m here, I have new spices to play with. I wouldn’t have believed anyone who told me I’d one day own multiple sticks of cinnamon, let alone anise.”
Gale hummed. “It smells wonderful, my sun. Though, I wish you would have woken me. I could have assisted in your merry kitchen.”
Yrelia laughed and took her hand from his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I didn’t want to wake you,” she said with a concerned smile. “And how are you feeling?”
“Better,” he admitted. “Still sore, but it’s hardly what it was before.”
“Good.” She kissed him again. “I also had the apothecary make a new bath soak for you.”
“Apothecary?” He questioned, feeling like he was repeating himself. “Why not the soap maker or the perfumer?”
“Because it’s a medicated soak,” she explained and pulled away. “It will be good to help ease your pain.”
“Something your father also uses?”
“Not just him, I used it as well. Working long hours doing manual labor is pretty painful,” she said with a soft sigh.
“And how has your pain been since living with me?”
“Much more manageable,” she said with a smile. “I think there are parts of me that are permanently damaged but for the most part I’m doing far better.” She leaned in and kissed him. “Now I can have you use the soak, hopefully it helps,” she said before her brows knit together and a worried smile spread on her lips. “Of course, I have no idea if it will. Your pain is far different than my own.”
That was a very good point, Gale realized. Much like how the orb changed him, how it corrupted and contaminated him, it wasn’t a “natural��� pain. It wasn’t pain from overworking, it wasn’t pain from a blade, it wasn’t even something as truly excruciating as a paper cut, it was a magical effect within his body, within his blood. Bile, toxic waste, corrosion; his body dissolving from the inside out.
The punishment for his hubris will follow him around for the rest of his life, even possibly after death.
“Gale?” Yrelia called, that worried expression became more intense and her smile faded away.
He gently took her hand. “I’m alright,” he said but it sounded far more full of ridiculous and unnecessary despair. Which of course only made her more worried. Gale swore that half of their relationship was the two of them worrying about each other. He brought her hand to his chest and placed her hand over his heart. “I’m alright,” he repeated softly, far more calm and confident than before. She let out a sigh. “I hope that it does work,” he said. “But let’s not give each other false hope.”
Yrelia removed her hand from his chest and reached for his face. She pulled him down so that his forehead rested against hers. “Whatever it takes, I will make this easier for you. Even if I have to slay a dragon or two.”
He chuckled. “Well you certainly won’t be doing that on your own. A wizard at hand is good luck, you know.” Yrelia smiled softly, accepting his kiss. “I love you,” he kissed her again. The doorbell rang. “And it seems the first of our guests have arrived. Here,” he pulled the green ribbon out of his pocket. “Do you mind?”
Yrelia grinned. “Not at all. Turn around, I’ll make you look very pretty.”
The evening was…it was magnificent. It was a warm hearth, joyous laughter, and overwhelming love. The food and drink were perfect, and Morena and Lillian teased him quite a bit about Yrelia being the one to make their meals and drinks while he took a nap.
“My word! Are you being a chauvinist, Gale? I thought I raised you better than that.”
And,
“Oh, Lia, you need to squash this behavior early. Make him do all the dishes on his own!”
Yrelia had laughed and rubbed Gale’s arms as he sighed in defeat. They ate cake and Yrelia pulled out a nice sherry and poured it for everyone except Amber and Cyr. Yrelia brought them more cider but not without laughing at her brother for still having the taste buds of a kid.
Gale realized how happy Yrelia was. He watched her glow. Her perfect pink lips had an almost permanent smile and her eyes were shining like starlight. As Gale watched her he realized that this was everything she had wanted while alone on her farm. She wanted a family who loved her, friends who enjoyed her company. He knew it would take years to rid her of her impulse to overwork and take care of everything, but she seemed so happy to host such a gathering.
Gale was able to give her something that she had deeply longed for in her loneliness. He did that. He had given her something to make her float on air. He could scarcely believe that someone as unworthy as him was able to make the one he loved so dearly enjoy her life.
“Ah, beloved, there you are,” Yrelia said with a grin as she walked into the kitchen with two empty bottles of alcohol. Gale wiped his misty eyes and smiled at her. She blinked, setting aside the bottles and walking towards him. She reached out for his face. “Now I know that’s not faux happiness on your face,” she said and nuzzled his nose.
“No, it’s quite real,” he chuckled and took her elbows in his hands. A large, content smile grew on his face. Just a small moment where they left their guests. He was sure they would understand that he needed a small moment with his fiancée.
Yrelia’s smile grew and she rubbed her nose against his. “I love you. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
And he was. In the midst of happiness, warmth, and good food, his pain had subsided. He didn’t feel like hunching over in pain and the numbness in his hands had disappeared. “I have you to thank for that, my love. I will find a way to properly express my gratitude to you.”
Yrelia grinned. “Oh, my love, I believe I’ve already told you what I desire from you.”
“More kisses, yes? I think I can accommodate that.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. Just a sweet, chaste kiss that made his heart swell.
Yrelia’s affectionate smile graced her lips. It was one that he knew was just for him, he had only seen it as she gave it to him. She took his hand. “Come, beloved, let’s say goodbye to your family. I’m having Cyr and Amber stay in the guest room tonight. I’m afraid I will not allow them to walk home with their daughter as the snow picks up.”
“Yes, of course, my darling.”
Gale watched as Yrelia stood at the balcony windows in their bedroom looking radiant. The full moon shone through the window and reflected off the snow and some drift globes had found their way to his tower. They illuminated her body through the sheer robe he had gifted her to tease her. Gale swallowed as he stared at her, this beautiful woman in his bedroom, staring out of his windows. Her long hair traveled down her back, past her hips, and the curve of her sides looked absolutely irresistible.
He let out a heavy breath and walked towards her. He gently took her hips in his hands, pulling her against him. “Tell me,” he breathed in her ear, “what could be on your mind as you stare out at the sea?”
She turned in his arms and took his face in her hands. She rubbed his cheeks with her thumbs. “You’re on my mind,” she said before pulling him in for a long kiss. She pulled away slowly, breathing on his lips. “I love you,” she whispered to his lips. She kissed him, running her fingers through his hair.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding onto her firmly. The way she felt in his arms was so intimately unreal that he spent a not insignificant amount of time trying to convince himself that this was real, that she was real. And it hit the hardest after nightmares like the one he had the previous night. He pulled away and stared at her with stars in his eyes. He loved her, he was so completely and utterly at her feet, he loved her.
She blinked before smiling. “Don’t look at me like that,” she chuckled softly. “You’re going to make me feel important.”
He nipped her bottom lip. “It seems I’ll have to put in more effort if you don’t already feel that way.”
She laughed as he kissed her. She hummed as he untied her robe, letting it fall loose against her body. He absolutely, unequivocally loved this woman. He loved her kiss and her tongue. He loved the softness of her breasts and the curve of her hips. Everything about her drove him wild.
He oh so gently started to push her back towards the windows. She broke the kiss and breathed. “Gale, don’t you-” He cut her off with another kiss. He smirked against her lips as he pressed her against the window. She practically jumped as her body touched the cold windows. He laughed as she stared at him. “Oh my gods,” she pushed off the window and his laughter grew louder. “You know, I’m sure the neighbors got a nice look at my ass, Gale of Waterdeep.” He grinned and she sighed. “You better be glad you’re cute,” she said as she leaned in again.
“Everyday I thank my lucky stars that I am.” He accepted her kiss with a grin. “I must say,” he started when she pulled away. “The way you look is intoxicating.”
“Intoxicating?” She questioned.
“Hm? Would you prefer another word? I do have many of those.” She snorted. “Let’s see exhilarating, pleasing, charming, enchanting…” he grinned at her laughter. “I am completely in awe of your beauty in the moonlight. Utterly enraptured.”
“So you say,” she said with a giggle. “Truth be told, I would like to not be by the cold window anymore.” She stepped forward and he took a step back. He reached out for the heavy curtains and closed them over the windows. The moonlight disappeared from the room and all that lit up their bedroom was the low burning hearth.
He waved his hand and a gossamer hand started adding more wood to the fire. Yrelia hummed and Gale couldn’t but stare at her. Such a difference was the warm firelight compared to the cool moonlight. The moonlight was godly, it was ethereal. It had made her eyes and skin glow in an otherworldly way.
But the firelight…
The firelight brought warmth to her eyes, it made her skin beg to be touched. She looked ravishing and welcoming. She looked raw, warm, human . Even his feelings of insecurity seemed to vanish when he stared at her in the warm light.
“I love you,” he breathed. He took her elbows in his hands and pulled her with him towards the bed.
She smiled at him. “I love you, too.” He sat down on the bed. She took his face in her hands and kissed him. “And it seems that you have something on your mind,” she said lightly as he pushed off her sheer robe.
“My lady, you’re not so subtle yourself,” he said.
“Oh?”
“You are, no, were wearing that robe, and you typically always try to seduce me when you do.”
She blinked. “Do I?”
“Based on the evidence…”
“Alright, I’m going to have to mix up what I wear then. I’m thinking of something totally different, perhaps a baggy pair of pants?” They laughed as he laid down and pulled her on top of him. She straddled his lap and smiled so softly down at him. “You know, we’ll have to be quiet since Cyr and Amber are sleeping downstairs.”
“This is my own home,” he said with faux protest and she chuckled. He grabbed her hips. “I’m suddenly remembering last spring in a terribly uncomfortable tent where you had to tell me that we needed to be quiet every time.”
Yrelia laughed again. “Oh, that’s not very accurate, is it? You wouldn’t let me be on top then.”
She snorted loudly when he blushed a deep red. “My lady .” She snorted again. “I don’t take kindly to being made fun of.” He sighed as she laughed. “That was because it had been so long and I was so in love with you that the night would have ended far too quickly if you had been on top of me.”
She grinned and had a wild look in her eyes. “Then we should have done that position more often. I know I would have been happy about it.”
“Lia,” he let out an exasperated sigh and she laughed, “I’ll have you know that I wanted to spend as much time as I could trying to make you come undone rather than skipping to the finale.”
“Yes, I remember how enthusiastic you were,” she giggled softly. She reached out and lifted his shirt above his head. “And how nervous you were.”
“That circles back around to being completely in love with you.” He reached up and cupped her cheek. “The last thing I wanted was to disappoint you.”
Yrelia giggled. “You’d never disappoint me, my love,” she said warmly. “I was also completely in love with you, if you recall.” Gale smiled up at her and accepted her kiss. “Now remember, Gale, you are quite tired and need to relax. So the least you can do is lie back and let me take care of you.”
He laughed, grabbing her hips and squeezing. He gave in to her and her touch. Who was he to argue with the beautiful woman who he loved so dearly? The one that looked so magnificent. The way she moved and breathed and moaned his name as she came undone while on top of him. Good gods, he absolutely loved her.
“How are you feeling, beloved?” Yrelia asked softly, her voice soft but strong
“Much better,” Gale mumbled to Yrelia’s skin. His face was buried in her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair. The rise and fall of her chest relaxed him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said. “Get some sleep, Gale, we’ll see how you feel in the morning.”
He placed a lazy kiss on her skin in response, too tired to say anything. He breathed for a moment, his eyes closing. He swiftly fell asleep in her arms, settling into a dreamless sleep.
He blinked his eyes open and breathed for a moment. He felt…good. Still a bit sore, like his body was still sleeping off the pain, but he felt good . He looked around the room and saw that Yrelia was not in bed. He started to get out of bed when the door opened.
“Good morning, my love,” Yrelia greeted from the bedroom door with a tray of food. “Now I have brought you breakfast. We still had some pumpkin left from the soup I made so I made you some pumpkin ricotta toast. There are also two soft boiled eggs, a wonderful cup of tea that will help with inflammation, and some nice crispy bacon.” She walked over and kissed the top of his head. She placed the tray in his lap and kissed his temple.
“My lady, you’re quite the wonder,” he said dreamily, thinking that she must be from some dream or fantasy of his. “Have you eaten?”
“I did with Cyr but I will stay with you as you eat.”
“Good, because I believe I owe you many good morning kisses. Thousands of them in fact.”
Yrelia laughed. “And I can’t wait to receive them!”
Gale sighed so joyfully. Yrelia sat next to him, wrapping her arm around him and rubbing his shoulder. He loved her. He loved her so completely, so deeply. He felt refreshed thanks to her. He felt more energetic due to her fussing over him.
And he knew that thousands of good morning kisses were just the start of his gratitude and celebration.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#gale x tav#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#yrelia#GET LOVE IDIOT#accidentally writes over 10k words whoops#roseweave
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
another one of the many prompts from the years of g/t daydreaming i have done
Waking up from a deep sleep, you find yourself absolutely covered in dirt. The fuck? It feels like you were buried, but with some effort you're able to sit up and brush yourself off. Looking around, you see miles and miles of open prairie and rolling hills. This must be a dream, you tell yourself. The sun hangs low in the sky, and you feel the chill of nightfall creeping up on you. The number one priority is finding somewhere to sleep for the night, not that you're super serious about the situation, considering you're still in dreamland. You decide west is the optimal travel direction, as it will give you at least a little more daylight. After an hour of walking with nothing in sight, you see a town on the horizon line- relief washes over you. Thank goodness, I didn't want to figure out a way to camp. Something's strange, though, as you're approaching this town. The perspective is off somehow, and soon enough you figure out what the problem is- It's frickin' tiny. Not only that, but the town looks... mediaeval? Sort of? Thatched roofs, cobblestone pathing, lit torches, a well-used horse stable are just a few of the things you notice.
Movement calls your attention, seeing tiny pairs of eyes peek from nearly drawn shutters, slamming shut as soon as your gaze meets theirs. "What the fuck?" you can't stop yourself from muttering. Looking down to your feet, you see you've trampled a tiny field you had failed to notice. "Shit-" you breath, moving to an open area. "H-hello? Can someone help me out? I don't know what's going on..." Coming to your knees with a slight panic slowly setting in, you try knocking on the windows to see if any of these tiny people can get you some answers. "Ow!" Something sharp pierced your thigh- quickly turning, you see a tiny man with an equally tiny pitchfork, trying desperately to yank it out of your leg, presumably to get another attack in. "Hey, can you- OW- Dude, I haven't even done anything-" you stammer, going to grab for the small assailant. "Stillnes ûs of pro ic syndrige, ent!" he yells, giving a grunt as your hand finally finds him, dwarfing his form. The pitchfork clatters to the cobbled ground as you sit up and address the tiny, angry villager flailing in your palm. "Man, can you chill out? I really only want to know what's going on, I'm not gonna go godzilla on you all or whatever," But, when you bring the man to eye level and really get a look at him, you see terror and a determination you hadn't expected. The lingering sting of the pitchfork buzzes on your leg, and slowly, you come to a realization. "Oh. This is definitely not a dream, huh?"
#what happens next?#who knows! I definitely dont : )#I love starting stories and then never finishing them! it's my f a v o r i t e#but like actually please use this as inspiration for a story i need to know how it ends#btw the guy is speaking old english#he said “leave us alone giant!”#we stan a protective tiny king#he's not actually a king#but like#you could totally make him one i dont mind <3#giant#giant/tiny#handplay#macro/micro#giant tiny#g/t#g/t writing
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
This was a post I just received from a fellow FA flying back in to ATL. It is just to surreal. Things most of us here in the USA never witness. Prayers are going out to those being attacked. Just thoughts on how we here take for granted. I can not even fathom in my mind closing that forward door with the OPs agent on the other side, knowing they were left behind.😢😢
Today, October 7th, 2023, will forever be etched in my memory. It began as a day of promise in Tel Aviv, Israel, a city that radiates with vibrancy. The previous day was spent soaking in the warmth of the autumn sun, and the crystal-clear embrace of the Mediterranean Sea.
As the sun painted its first strokes across the horizon, an inexplicable compulsion led me to the beach boardwalk, yearning for a final communion with the sea's caress before the 13 hour long journey back to Atlanta, then 4 more to Orange County, CA. Abruptly, the heavens shattered into a chilling crescendo, the searing sounds of rockets piercing the calm. The wail of the national security alarm echoed through the city, shaking the very foundations.
In an instant, the scene transformed into a tableau of terror. People scattered in a frenetic dance of survival, seeking refuge in any hidden alcove. The air trembled with the symphony of screams, a cacophony that still resonates deep within me. One moment, a tranquil morning; the next, a frantic race alongside strangers, the specter of mortality a haunting companion.
Then, a terse notification broke through the chaos, cold and factual: "Palestinian Islamist group Hamas launches an unprecedented surprise attack on Israel, the largest in decades." At precisely 6:30 a.m., the heavens were ablaze, rockets tracing their deadly arc, striking Tel Aviv, Rehovot, Gedera, and Ashkelon.
In that very moment, the gravity of the situation bore down on me. Tel Aviv had been struck. Urgency surged, propelling me back to the refuge of the hotel. I ran with a fervor I'd never known, tears streaming down my face, emotions a tumultuous sea. It was a rollercoaster of the soul, a surreal dance with disbelief. Emotions surged like a tidal wave, an emotional rollercoaster careening through my being. It was surreal, an experience usually reserved for the distant confines of a screen. We never believe they will touch us.
Within the basement, a sanctuary of concrete and anticipation, I found solitude amidst empty space, except for one lone figure, unyielding in his pursuit of normalcy. I claimed a corner, perching upon a chair, eyes transfixed on the news, absorbing the reality that unfurled before me. Tears, unbidden, carved trails upon my cheeks. Was this the crucible of war? Paralyzed by solitude and sorrow, I grappled with the ugliness that scars our world. What, I pondered, are we truly fighting for? Was this my reality, engulfed in the throes of a war zone? The question lingered, a heavy, unspoken burden.
The hotel's emergency alarm granted permission to resume our daily routines, announced in both Hebrew and English. At last, I ascended to my room. The phone chimed, the van's pick-up was set for 9 a.m.
In the lobby, a pallor of solemnity enveloped our crew gathering. Most of the crew slumbered through the rockets and alarms, yet to grasp the gravity that enveloped us. We boarded the crew van, but the driver, discerning the perilous streets, resisted. He would not jeopardize us, nor himself, in the face of this unprecedented onslaught.
Upon our return to the hotel, a CNN bulletin cut through the air, a proclamation of war, not a mere attack. With the inbound aircraft inching towards Ben Gourion International, uncertainty reigned. Should we proceed to the airport? Was Israeli airspace a sanctuary or a perilous threshold?
We treaded carefully, listening to the Hebrew news, each update a somber reminder of our precarious situation. The van's journey was eerily silent, roads barren, devoid of life's bustling rhythm. Never before had I known such a silence, a profound stillness that hung heavy.
The airport loomed, the military posted as gatekeepers. The curbside, once bustling, now bore witness to the tension etched on every face. Military presence commanded attention, ushering cars through in a solemn procession. "The airport is now closed," the driver informed us. We arrived at the curb, reluctance hung thick in the air. The unknown, an abyss that swallowed resolve. Inside, a Delta Agent met us, her face a canvas of disbelief, a mosaic of sorrow.
Security, customs, and exit procedures offered an illusion of normalcy. The terminal, however, was a ghostly expanse, bomb shelter signs echoing a grim reality. Flights were delayed, the arrival board an empty testament to uncertainty. Were we truly bound for home?
Finally, our aircraft materialized, disembarking passengers blissfully unaware. They bore smiles of homecoming, unaware of the turmoil a few miles distant.
Boarding our aircraft, I felt a cocktail of gratitude and trepidation, bound for home but leaving behind a nation in turmoil. We boarded swiftly, a collective desire to depart, to seek the solace of distance. Our flight plan, altered, steered us north, a maneuver to sidestep potential perils over Gaza.
As we ascended, eyes remained fixed on the world below. We were aloft, but what of Israel? What of the lives left behind, the futures hanging in the balance?
The flight stretched on, twelve hours and twenty-three minutes of shared uncertainty and gratitude. Two ACRS messages from the ground shattered the silence, each revelation grimmer than the last. The rockets, relentless, spoke of a bloodied land, of lives lost to the brutality of conflict.
As crew members, we exchanged glances, tears unbidden. Though absent from the frontline, we were conduits of safety, tasked with navigating a tumultuous sea of emotions.
Atlanta's skyline materialized below, but the silence persisted until phones sprung to life. Messages flooded in, a deluge of concern and well-wishes. Touching down in Atlanta, silence reigned until the barrage of messages inundated me.
One hundred and fifty-three text messages, thirty-seven WhatsApps, six voicemails, three hundred and forty-two Facebook messages, and one hundred and thirty-four on Instagram. Chaos in its purest form. Friends and family wanting to insure my safety. To those who reached out, thank you. I am safe
It has been a day of quiet chaos, a day that defies explanation or understanding. I pray that none should bear witness to such strife and trauma.
Upon landing in Atlanta, I took a moment before my connecting flight to Orange County to research, to make sense of the senseless.
“ Hamas militants, in a shocking prelude to a major Jewish holiday, unleashed a barrage of rockets, unleashing chaos upon Israeli towns. The toll, both in lives and spirit, was staggering. Israel, in response, severed the vital conduits of power and sustenance to Gaza. Darkness had descended upon a beleaguered land, a land teetering on the precipice of war.”
From my Holli's other grandma. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
it only just hit me that doing that for like six hours a day three days a week at least and then hearing it back for two days and trying to make it better is probably just voice training with extra steps lmfao
it has dawned on me that doing an increasingly improving girlvoice for 20 hours a week to make vic2 videos probably actually is voice training, huh?
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
@mischiefxmuses || Geralt & Yennefer
.。.:*☆ Geralt knew it only had been a couple of weeks. Yet, he would not be surprised finding out Yen moved on. If she even stilln was here in DC. They both knew how this city worked, after all. And yes, maybe it would have been good to have a phone in his house. To call, at least. Tell Yen that there had been an accident. That he had suffered from a trauma - healing slower here, as it seemed - but that he would be all fine again, surely.
Now, all Geralt could do was ring the bell of his former home, and wait.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prompt #2 from previous ask
“you never look better than you do when you’re underneath me.” with Roddy Piper please and maybe fem reader?
Nights on the road were lonely, even though you were constantly surrounded by people. You craved anything remotely intimate after the endless day of playing pretend for the camera and the crowd. How you managed to find yourself in the recurring company of the rowdy one, Roddy Piper, you couldn’t explain.
You couldn’t explain it, and you definitely wouldn’t complain.
Behind the curtain of kayfabe, Roddy was often surprisingly soft spoken, but it only made you lean in closer, hanging off every word. He knew this, using his gravelly resonance to draw you in. You didn’t care who saw you climb into his car, or follow him into his hotel room. Not with the way you knew his hands would hold you, touch you.
In the car, his hand would find your knee, resting for a few moments before gradually moving up your thigh. The sensation would always quicken your pulse, but you knew it was a tease, he never let his hand slip towards your inner thigh. It was only ever a gentle tease and he talked through the entire ride, so much so that you weren’t even sure how aware he was that he was even touching you.
His hotel room was a different story.
You wished he wore the kilt outside of the arena, but he filled out his jeans nicely, too. What he wore wouldn’t matter much once the door closed and he’d ceremoniously secure the extra locks behind you.
“Now that we’re all alone, what shall we do my dear?” He took your suitcase, set it down and stepped up behind you. His hands slid along your waistline and you could feel his lips grazing along your neck making your skin prickle and your pulse race again.
“As if you haven’t been thinking about exactly what you want to do to me all day,” You quip back, your hand reaching behind you to feel his shaggy mane just as his teeth lightly press against your neck.
“I’ve been thinking of a lot of different things,” He slides a hand under the hem of your shirt and glides slowly across your ribs, knowing the slowness of his touch is like torture to you, “If only you knew the dirty things that cross my mind when I see you in that ring….you’d run for your life,”
“Fuck…” you whispered to yourself, but you knew he heard it, “but I know you’d end up catching me, putting me in my place,” You felt his other hand lace through your hair, gripping to tilt your head back to his shoulder.
“Because, like a good girl, you know where your place is, don’t you,” He growled in your ear, his tongue tracing the edge of it.
“God…yes…I do…” You can’t help but agree with his carnal attentions.
He released you, but only to busy his hands with removing your clothes, leaving them heap on the floor. He nudged you towards the bed.
“You know how I like you…” taking off his own shirt, he watched you slowly make your way to the bed and crawl across it with a calculated sensuality. You heard him hum as you bent over in front of him before settling to sit on the bed, your knees teasingly closed.
Watching him work his belt open, a part of you wondered if he’d ever agree to use it on you. You could think of a few ways he could please you with it. He was aggressive in the way his disrobed, it made your sex tingle and your thighs shift as you felt desire pulsing through you.
You watched him kneel on the bed, feeling the way the mattress gave as he got closer. His hand slid up your calf to your knees, slipping it between them. They parted without much resistance and you bit your lip as his eyes traveled downward quickly.
Roddy licked his lips slowly and as his eyes met yours, they were deep, black pools of want. He leaned over you, one hand slipping between your thighs and teasing your clit with a tender massage. He could see the impatient desire in your body language as you subtly squirmed. His smirk was a sign that he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Roddy….please,” you begged, your hips pinned to stillness by the weight of his thighs against yours. Before you could plead again, his fingers slid farther down now teasing your aching cunt.
But the tease was a divine pleasure, you knew soon he wouldn't resist sinking his heavy, throbbing shaft inside of you next. You felt it twitch against your backside as you whimpered his name.
“Fuck me, Roddy…God PLEASE fuck me!” Your begging became more incensed as he teased letting you cum, but didn't allow it. His wicked chuckle that rumbled in his tanned, toned chest told you he was pleased with himself.
But he lowered himself, his shaggy hair dragging along your face as he tempted your lips with his. Distracting you with his taunting kiss, he replaced his fingers with his rigid cock, deepening the kiss as you gasped at the fullness of your sex.
As he moved his hips, you lay back on the bed, your legs gripping his waist.He didn't waste time being gentle. He earned his rowdy nickname well. It was all you could do to hold on for the ride. You came easily with his invading manhood, each one an exquisite relief.
“You never look better than you do when you’re underneath me.” He groaned with a deep resonance as you arched against him, your sex trembling around him.
You grinned with a sensual amusement at his praise.
“Well….let's do this more often then,”
You'd take any opportunity to be underneath him.
#reedsy answers asks#roddy piper#rowdy roddy piper#smut prompts#smut#fic prompts#wrestling#wcw#wwf#wwe
13 notes
·
View notes