How about a blind reader and thistle
Like thistle met them by accident and now they just keep them around because reader makes them happy
gn + human, mage reader + can be platonic or not
first off all, he’s fucking confused cause how the hell did you even end up in the dungeon? thistle first finds out about your existence when you accidentally stumble upon him after his confrontation with laios’ party.
he immediately puts up his guard when he hears your footsteps before you gasp in surprise.
“hello! wow, i didn’t think there would be another person down this deep...” you smile, staff clicking on the stone tiles.
he’s taken aback before asking you questions warily, to which he finds out you had some sort of echolocation ability. you have no clue that he had a sour expression on his face, assuming he only had a gruff voice from the aggressive way he talks.
you normally go dungeon crawling with your party but decided to walk around while they recuperate on the floor above. honestly, how did you even survive? what kind of idiot decides to take a casual walk in a dungeon? on the floor the red dragon was, no less. thistle thinks. you were lucky you missed it.
the two of you sit after you’ve offered him some food and snacks from your pack. he tried to refuse but you just kept on insisting.
thistle is interested in the foggy look in your eyes, unabashedly staring at your face after finding out you couldn’t see him.
you both sit on the floor as you munch on your bread, occasionally asking him questions and making conversation.
after that night, he’s curious about your whereabouts and everything about you, oftentimes sending out a creature to spy observe you. its been a long time since he has found good company, and to be completely honest, he’s lonely.
thistle came to know that your party has disbanded after eavesdropping with his creatures, the members finding different jobs and passions.
to your surprise, he appears again while you’re out camping on the second floor. you smile once you realize its your mysterious friend, eagerly offering him soup he couldn’t taste and a space for sleeping which he didn’t need. but he thanks you nonetheless.
thistle finds peace around you, the only person he could call a companion after so many years of isolation. if he’s in a decent mood, he’ll bring out his lute to play tunes while you hum.
conversations with you are enjoyable, you both find a good harmony of back and forth, discussing various topics such as nature, magic, and his hobbies.
“you write poems? that’s amazing. read it to me sometime?”
“i’m not sure you’d like it. it’d probably make you cry.”
you smile assuredly. “i’m sure it’s great! don’t sell yourself short!”
“you’re facing the wrong way. i’m on your left.”
you two grow closer once he lets you touch his face. the curiosity of what he looked like came out in a question as you whisper it to him unsurely.
thistle is hesitant at first, but your amazed gasps and the gentle touches of your palm against his cheek made his heart ache. how long has it been since someone had held him? talked to him? how long has he went without the softness and comfort of another being?
you caress his eyelids, nose, and ears while smiling, committing the feeling of his face to your mind.
“you’re beautiful. thank you for trusting me enough to do that.”
“how do you know? that i’m beautiful.” he murmurs, looking at the floor in contempt.
“i can feel it.” with a hand on your chest, you tell him wholeheartedly.
thistle allows himself to laugh, reaching out to tilt your chin at his direction. “you’re looking the wrong way again.”
you pout, “well, i can’t look or see at all, mind you!”
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