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littlejuicebox · 6 months

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Caught between comfort and chaos

(Astarion x F!OC)

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Chapter number: Two Themes: BG3, slow burn, original female character x astarion, dialogue heavy, mostly canon behavior Masterlist: Click here. Notes: I know only a few people have seen part 1, but these little pieces of the story keep playing in my head. I always welcome feedback and suggestions. If anyone is seeing this, hope you enjoy! Please leave a comment to let me know your thoughts/give feedback. It inspires me to keep writing in to the void. :)

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Karlach and Gale made quick work of washing themselves up before they made their way back to camp, located less than half a mile away. The wizard and tiefling — self-appointed head chef and sous-chef... and did that make Astarion the sommelier? — had much work to do for dinner preparations in the next hour. The sun was just starting to kiss the horizon in its descent towards night. Everyone would be hungry soon. Everyone... instead of just the rabid rogue that carried an insatiable ball of hunger in the pit of his stomach every step of the way.

Not one to particularly enjoy the group activity of preparing a meal that he wouldn’t dare touch — even if he could — Astarion had offered to stay behind with their leader. Mostly to get out of having to help the others, and partly because he found he’d seemed to enjoy the ranger’s company just a bit more than he enjoyed the others. Though, to be fair, the bar was insufferably low.

“You know, you really can be quite the tactician.” The pale elf mused, standing on the banks of the river, arms crossed, trousers rolled up around the calf, as he eyed his female companion. A sly smirk danced across his lips as Wren scrubbed at the mud that practically coated her face and arms. “And… honestly, darling? Quite the klutz.”

“You’re lucky it was me, and not you, you fool! At least Gale’s feather fall spell prevented the worst of the damage.” The little bird chirped, her tone jagged with shards of irritation. If looks could kill, and the vampire weren’t already undead, the scalding eyes she focused on him would’ve ended his life right there.

“Had that damned phase spider shoved you off the crag instead of me, I’m not so sure Gale would’ve bothered to wave his hand your way — he’s still irritated that I’ve gone and given you that stupid book, you know — and then that poor pretty face of yours would’ve been smashed to bits! So, Astarion, what I really should get is a thank you for intercepting that thing. You’d been so distracted during the whole blasted affair — Karlach was fighting off the hatchlings practically alone up there for half the encounter!” The frustration bubbled over Wren as she washed her skin, angry patches of red appearing on her freckled arms.

Astarion knew she was right, of course... he’d been distracted. When one of the arachnid hatchlings sunk their fangs into Wren’s arm earlier today, the smell of her blood consumed his senses. He had been wrestling with the unbearable desire to sink his own fangs into her neck. It had taken everything in him to control his urge. But he couldn’t tell Wren that — she and her other little followers would finally see him for the danger he was and run him off. Gods, he was so hungry, and the memory of her taste was so tempting that even now his senses were primarily focused on the remnants of dried blood she angrily swiped off her skin.

“Darling! So, you finally admit it! You think I’m pretty.” He twisted his words against her like one of his expertly wielded daggers, a carefully crafted deflection. He won a small creep of rosiness stretched across her neck. His white brow lifted in its signature cockiness as he held her gaze. ‘It really is all too easy….’ He chuckled to himself, proud of his tactic. Ruby eyes glossed down the brunette's face, to the crest of her collarbone, where her blush slowly rose up her neck.

'Tempting...' But no, he couldn’t. She hadn’t offered since that first time, and surely another mishap like that would leave him cast aside and utterly unprotected in the wilds he knew nothing about. He needed her influence in the group and her expansive knowledge of the wild terrain, which she navigated as if it were her own backyard, to keep him safe.

“Is that really all you got from that, Astarion?” The archer questioned, dryly. Despite her embarrassment at his quip, it was clear she still aimed to hold him accountable for endangering their companions. He loathed being held accountable, but she seemed to do it at every turn; the habit was infuriating.

Wren began wading his way, the splotches of embarrassment beginning to fade. How he longed to sink his fangs into her and satiate the hungry fire in his belly. He hadn’t consumed a single animal today — the caves really only had poisonous spiders and, even worse, rats.

‘When did I eat that fake paladin that had been after Karlach? Must have been nearly a week ago by now. And even then, their blood was nowhere near as satisfying as—'

“Agh, Wren, what in the hells!”

Wren had launched herself at him, contorting her limbs around his torso and leaning herself backwards, the shift in his gravity center causing both of them to tumble into the water. A shock of icy river water enveloped the vampire and jerked him out of his thoughts.

The pale elf shot up and out of the river like an arrow released from one of the ranger’s bows, haphazardly shoving drenched curls from his face. “Why you— how dare you—“ He sputtered, spinning in the direction of the traitorous wench.

“You have to admit, you kind of deserve it for leaving Karlach high and dry today.” The half-elf stated smugly.

She burst into laughter, and suddenly Astarion had her lifted into his arms, posed to launch her into the water. The river had washed away all thoughts of hunger, making room only for revenge.

“Little bird, I think you’ve gotten too big for your britches.” He said through gritted teeth as he shifted her weight in his arms, swinging her around like he was an Olympian throwing a shotput.

“Wait— Astarion, wait!” Wren shrieked, palms facing him, feigning innocence. “Truce! I have a gift for you… but I’ll only give it to you if you promise a truce.”

The offer was intriguing enough, and Astarion straightened his stance. Scarlet, cat-like eyes narrowed at the half-elf as he placed her back down on her own two feet. “This had better be good, Wren.”

-----

The rogue huffed as he watched the gang leader rummage through her pack, full to the brim with bits and bobs. “Gods, you’re just like that blue jay in the grove, hoarding every shiny thing! No wonder you’re named after a bird. You really ought to—'

Just then, she produced a giant hunk of amethyst from her pack. She proudly thrust the stone at him, and Astarion snapped his mouth shut, measuring the weight of the purple orb in his hand.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying about my hoarding habits?” Wren quipped, eyes daring him to continue his lecture.

Astarion’s undead heart skipped a beat. He'd recognized the significance of the item instantaneously; every free moment this week had been spent attempting to open that blasted book. A thrilled smile plastered his face. “My dear, I was just saying that a little bird like you needs a better backpack… or at least some repairs and upgrades made to that one if you’re planning to carry all of Faerun on your back… literally and metaphorically.”

The brunette woman rolled her eyes at the vampire, nodding her chin towards the treasure in his hand. “I found that when I fell off that crag today. You three were still trying to kill that stinking spider so I shoved it into my pack as fast as I could before returning to help. Now come on, let’s go put it in that ugly book of yours.”

This was now three gifts she had given him — blood, book, bijou. His mind rushed with anxiety… kindness was never this free, it always came with strings. The debt ratio was swinging further out of his favor, and even though Astarion was elated by the potential this purple key would unlock, his stomach also twisted at the fact that he kept owing this half-elven woman he barely knew more and more as the days crawled by. She seemed to know exactly what he couldn’t refuse and offer it to him at every opportunity. ‘Kindness or cunning?’

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They were nearly to the camp when Wren’s pack began to tear. “Shit!” She hissed, shrugging the bag off her shoulders to hold it in her arms as if it were a precious babe.

“My dear, you really need to drop some of that riff raff.” Astarion sighed, waving his hand dismissively at her backpack.

“When we get back to Emerald Grove, I’ll sell a lot of this stuff. Besides, we need the money.”

Astarion really couldn’t argue with that logic. He hated scrounging up things to sell off for money — he’d never had to do such a thing in his life, as far as he could remember… even in the life that only consisted of hazy memories before his Master took over. But, they had maybe a bit over one hundred gold between the lot of them, and that wasn’t going to go very far since Wren seemed set to adopt every straggler and animal she could along the way. They'd just picked up an annoying dog -- 'Scratch, what a poor excuse for a name.' -- 48 hours ago. Plus, his pickpocketing, admittedly, hadn’t turned up much in an area without the usual nobles and artistes he regularly scammed in Baldur’s Gate.

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips. “Fine then. Come and put all that trash in my pack, instead.” He offered, shrugging his bag off his shoulders and holding it open and out for her. His clothes were still wet and sticking to him from her earlier prank, and he really was getting very hungry. He desperately needed to hunt, and this silly exchange was slowing them down, but the ache in his stomach from owing Wren several favors was, at this moment, burning more than his hunger for blood. Maybe this gesture would start to swing the pendulum back into his corner. Indebtedness did not suit him well.

Wren beamed, dumping everything into the vampire’s pack; spoons clanged together at the bottom with a lump of moldy cheese and several… bones? ‘What in the hells. Is she a bird or a raccoon?’

“Gods, you’re absolutely ridiculous.” He grumbled. The vampire was shocked at the impractical weight she carried every day without a second thought.

“Thank you,” Wren replied, choosing to ignore the annoyance in his voice as she followed after the pale elf. The camp so close they could hear Lae’zel and Shadowheart bickering about the best weapon to use in a battle and smell whatever concoction Gale and Karlach created with the scant supplies in their inventory. Stars began to dapple the night sky, and the welcoming glow of the campfire drew them like moths towards the heart of the group.

As they walked the last bit of their journey, Wren couldn’t help but to sneak a few glances at Astarion, his wet shirt sticking to his torso, the nearly transparent material revealing glimpses of his pectorals and biceps. The first rays of moonlight started to dance in the vampire's hair, and she smiled as she recollected their earlier encounter in her mind's eye. Maybe the small glimpse of her companion's physique hadn’t been the motive of her actions earlier — it was mostly to shut his cocky mouth up — but maybe it had turned out to be part of the reward.

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Astarion found the Necromancy of Thay to be an interesting read… if you could get past the voices that wouldn’t just SHUT UP. Those spirits kept egging him to kill his camp mates… and what good would that do? He’d entertained the thought of killing Gale. At least he’d no longer have to hear the camp scholar ramble on and on about his precious Tara — was the wizard really in love with a goddess or was his true love his cat? But even the rogue had to admit that the purple pighead had a useful skillset and couldn't be disposed of just yet.

The silver-haired elf had almost made it to the end of the tome before he felt the voices driving into his mind, their influence infecting him with madness. If he wasn’t going to let Cazador control his mind, he sure as hell wasn’t about to have a dusty, inanimate object do so either. The book would have to remain closed for now... at least until he found another way around.

A quick stop to the druid camp to unload some of Wren’s junk, pick up some potions and specialty arrows, and the merry band of misfits and weirdos were nearly ready to head back out.

Wren sat on a boulder at the front of Emerald Grove, needle and thread in hand. The others wandered around, in various stages of their own preparations, as they all set their sights on finding the Goblin Camp. Astarion had already finished his bit of pickpocketing and purchasing, so he meandered lazily towards the little bird, where he would wait for the others to gather.

‘She’d make a terrible seamstress.’ He thought, noting that Wren had chosen to mend her pack with a running stitch that wouldn’t hold the weight of all the knickknacks she insisted on hoarding. Her focus was intense, brow furrowed on her project as he took a seat on the boulder, one knee up, head slightly tilted. “I would recommend a backstitch, instead, my dear.”

“Wha— ouch!” The half elf hissed, wincing as she pulled the silver sliver from its new home inside her pointer finger. A thin stream of blood began to ooze out of the flesh wound.

Astarion reflexively snatched her hand and pressed the injured finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip of her digit. His eyes closed briefly as he savored the delicious taste of that elixir running through her veins -- sunlight and cinnamon -- before his mind caught up to his impulsivity. He felt Wren’s hand jerk slightly at the contact of his tongue; the shocked widening of her eyes ghosting across his peripheral vision. His hastiness really was going to get him killed. Where was his usual, unfaltering control? ‘What the hell are you doing, idiot spawn?’

“Can’t let such a delicious and precious thing go to waste, can we, darling?” He purred. One more sensual lick of her finger, all for show, and he released his grip.

Wren remained frozen. Silence passed between the two. Astarion felt panic rise up in his gut, mentally running through a way to smooth over the interaction, when suddenly the little bird burst into a fit of laughter.

“This explains so much!” She exclaims, throwing herself back on the boulder and covering her eyes. His favorite scar danced along her lip as her giggles rang through the grove. “You’re hungry! Astarion, why didn’t you say anything?”

The rogue furrowed his brow, still trying to calculate how something he’d made so overtly sexual caused Wren to burst into a fit of laughter rather than melt into a puddle of lust. Was she immune to his charms? Not attracted to men? Had he been turned into a hideous mindflayer already and everyone was too polite to tell him so? “Well, after last time, when you had to shove me off of you… frankly, darling, I didn’t think—“

“I’ll let you feed on me, Astarion. But first, I need you to do something for me.”

‘Ah, there it is, the string.’ Thinks the vampire, as he cocks his head at the woman. “And what, exactly, do you have in mind?”

Wren reached around her side and grabbed hold of a small book. She waved the tattered thing at him, a shy smile crossing her lips. “Just help me read this, okay? And maybe help me sew my pack together, since you seem to be such an expert.”

“A book. You just want me to help you read a book?” He is unable to hide the disbelief in his voice from her and the internal glimmer of relief from himself.

The half-elf playfully taps his shoulder blade with the thin novel. “Not just any book, Astarion. It has healing spells inside… I stole it from Nettie earlier today. I want to learn a few. You read all the time at camp -- even before the Necromancy of Thay, so I figured you wouldn't really mind. Plus, like I told you... reading tires me out and I really want to learn this.”

“You stole it?” The pale elf can’t hide his amusement; his eyebrows raise up into his forehead and a small chuckle crosses his lips. Wren didn’t seem like she had to gall to commit such an act; she was always too busy playing goody-two-shoes-savior-of-the-world-and-every-living-creature.

“Serves her right for trying to poison me the last time. She owes me.” The ranger mumbles, with an unbothered shrug.

A small hum from the elf as he considered the agreement; it seemed easy and innocent enough. If a string had to be attached, perhaps it was best that it was something as banal as reading the little bird a bedtime story. ‘The purple bookworm at camp would’ve loved to offer his services to her, I’m sure.’

Another thought crosses his mind, and he turns to Wren, where she is waiting expectantly for an answer. “Deal, darling. But what makes you think you’re going to have any success? Most rangers I’ve come across only know how to employ the uses of yarrow and calendula. Spellcasting never really seems to be their strong suit.”

“My mom was a cleric… it’s in my blood.” Wren sighs, and he can tell by the tone of her voice and the hardened line her mouth makes that he will not get more information if he presses.

Astarion gestures for the half-elf to hand over the pack and quickly takes up the mending. Skilled fingers make quick work of the task, and he bites at the thin flash of blue thread in order to finish off the job just as the rest of the group makes their way to the front of the grove.

Handing the pack back to Wren, he locks eyes with her for just a moment. “When?”

The little bird takes her bag from his hands, admiring the beautiful needlework. Karlach is headed towards the pair, recounting her adventures in Avernus to some of the tiefling children. The red woman's animated hands are waving around, followed by "oohs" and "ahhs" from her tiny admirers. Wren paused their conversation briefly to watch Karlach's show and Astarion thought he saw her eyes well up before she blinked and turned back to face him. “Tonight is fine with me," she murmurs, absently, before looking down again at the new stitches of blue in her backpack. "You really did a wonderful job here."

Astarion's mouth waters at the anticipation, and he struggles to swallow as he aims to keep his face an unreadable mask. “I’ll see you tonight, then, darling.” He murmurs and stands to shoulder his pack before being roped in to settle an argument between Lae'zel and Shadowheart about which color of wine is superior -- red or white.

‘Don’t lose control, you idiot.’ The thought flares in both the rogue's and ranger's minds at the same time. Perhaps it was the parasite wriggling in their minds, connecting them briefly, neither of them aware... or perhaps it was another string of fate tethering them together in a way neither could envision for themselves.

#baulders gate astarion #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate tav #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #astarion x tav #astarion x original female character #slow burn #original character #original writing

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delimeful · 10 months

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to know that song (and all its words) (8)

warnings: blood & injury, offscreen violence, shock/disorientation, medical drug use & side effects, miscommunication, overprotectiveness, rude bird behavior

Afterwards, he was told that he’d been in and out of consciousness for the better part of a full three cycles

Virgil felt like he had experienced it all in fragments, brief memories he could only recall the briefest flashes of.

–

Large hands setting him in a corner, warm and gentle but shaking hard enough to jostle him back to awareness. Heartfelt’s aether receded until he knew he was alone, his don’t-leave whistle dying in his throat as he began processing other senses again.

None of it was good.

He could hear the high agonized whines that slipped out with every breath, and farther away, the gradual shift of angry shouts slowly turning into terrified caterwauling or pained shrieks. He could see the dull flicker of the emergency lights, the wide and strange shadows cast along the ship’s walls, the occasional bright, crackling flare of a paralyzer shot. The scent of blood, so thick in the air he didn’t know how he’d missed it.

Some of it was his own, though maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t noticed that much. It had taken only a single glance at his mangled arm to send him back under.

–

Distant angry words woke him next, and the icy pressure of Square’s aether was distinguishable even through the thick fog currently roiling in his skull.

He floundered for a moment– where was he?– before recognizing the soft arms cradling him. Human. He was safe, even if he was being moved at a rapid pace and his brain didn’t seem to be functioning properly.

“What happened?” he tried to ask, though the noises that he actually produced weren’t even close.

A minor twitch ran through the chest he was cradled to, the hurried gait drawing to an abrupt stop, and he realized belatedly that Square was the one holding him. Huh. No wonder their aether felt so present.

Something about the arrangement was a little odd, but his mind couldn’t quite piece together why.

A sharp, throbbing pain was present on the edge of his awareness, and somehow Virgil knew that the more he focused on it, the worse it would get. Unfortunately, he was finding that thinking about anything else was extremely hard.

His feathers twitched. There was something hovering over him. Virgil flinched back a little automatically before cracking his eyes open and spotting an oversized hand, bigger than his head and blotting out some of the overhead light. Oh, it was just Square.

They seemed to be speaking, but it must have been in a Human tongue, because the noise was indecipherable and sounded oddly far away. He’d caught “medicine,” maybe?

There was an expectant pause.

Virgil considered the situation at length, surveying all his options, and then stretched out and pushed his head up to bump against Square’s stupidly big palm.

He would have tried to bump the underside of their jaw instead, but even this much movement had sent shocks of pain through him, and willpower could only take him so far. If Square had wanted to be comforted properly, they should have made sure their big head was in headbutting range before leaking all that defensive-angry-terrified into the air.

Square stiffened up a fair amount, but after a few possibly hatchling-adjacent peeps from Virgil, they seemed to soften. The weight of their hand settled down slightly, smoothing down Virgil’s ridiculously fluffed up feathers. Thankfully, his antennae were already dopily angled backwards, so he could enjoy the somewhat heavy handed preening without any discomfort.

It would have been a victory if not for the alarming thread of desolation that had wound its way into Square’s aether.

He crooned a slurred complaint, but exhaustion was already overcoming him.

When he slumped back, there was only a moment’s pause before Square’s hand followed to continue those gentle strokes. The warmth of it was a sharp contrast to the coldness of his words, faint and directed away this time.

“Find their medic.”

–

A sharp prick, and he opened his eyes first this time, bypassing whatever he’d just been poked with in favor of the unfortunate realization that he wasn’t being held anymore.

Noisy was the closest to him now, though he was being uncharacteristically quiet as he swiftly moved away to dispose of an empty injector pen, expression pinched as though he didn’t want to even be looking at it, let alone touching it.

There was a slowly-spreading numbness along his arm, which was nice because he was pretty sure it had been distracting him somehow. Something in the back of his brain told him not to look at it, so he sought out an easier, less personal distraction.

Despite his loudest human’s reticence, there was still plenty of noise in the room. Virgil’s gaze slowly drifted over to the source.

A stranger was seated on one of the medbay’s uncomfortable plylon chairs, one limb cuffed to a chair leg, the other hanging limp at their side. They were staring at their lap, a hurried stream of Common spilling from their mouth, slightly muffled by the way their mandibles kept curling over their face defensively.

“– swear, I’m telling you it’s the right dosage, you’ll see, please–”

Virgil stared at the scene with mild fascination. As they spoke, the stranger was also running through practically every known submission display in this quadrant, even the ones that contradicted each other. It was like they were running out of time to input the correct admin password before a total system shutdown, and had resorted to trying any combination they could think of.

It was sort of impressive, how much physical groveling they were fitting into those miniscule movements. Even unable to do the grander ones that required a full range of motion, they’d probably done over a dozen completely unique displays just in the short time he’d been watching.

Square was standing in front of them, one hand wrapped around a narrow length of pipe that Virgil was pretty sure belonged in the walls of his ship, and holding themself menacingly to their full height in a way that could only be described as ‘looming’.

The tactic seemed to be far more effective on the babbling stranger than it had ever been on Virgil, despite the fact that they were probably twice his height. The still-wet blood splattered on the pipe was probably adding to the effect, although even that wouldn’t have deterred Virgil from backtalk, personally.

Still, despite all their de-escalation attempts, the stranger didn’t seem to be picking up on the fact that Square was getting frustrated with how quickly they were speaking.

They should try biting and/or swearing at the Human. That had worked out pretty well for Virgil, personally.

He attempted to remember how talking worked, in order to give them his valuable advice, but before he could manage, their politely-averted gaze passed over him and then instantly darted back and locked onto him like a drowning victim spotting a floater frond.

“Look, he’s awake! He must know– he can tell you I’m being honest,” they dove into a whole new litany of pleas, but Square had turned at the third word, attention entirely diverted.

The Human was pretty splattered with blood, too. A concerning amount of it– was some of it Square’s own blood? He couldn’t remember the specifics, but he felt like identifying sources of bleeding had been a recent concern of his.

“Virgil!” Noisy exclaimed at his side, sounding surprised and also kind of frantic. He was using that Human word again, so Virgil guessed it really was a nickname. “When did– How long–?”

“Virgil,” Square echoed, voice firmer but just as urgent. “Can you hear me?”

He hummed a distracted affirmative, and the Human’s expression lost some of its drawn-out tension.

“We need to know how to heal your injury. Human medicine is… I think, too rough. What sort of medicine is best for you?” Square asked, drawing closer.

Virgil knew this, he knew he knew this, but the information all felt so far away.

All of him felt pretty far away, actually. That numb, floaty feeling had spread far past his arm, at this point.

The stranger moaned some sort of prayer for salvation.

“‘m feeling fine,” Virgil managed, his words slurring unhelpfully. “Worried?”

“Yes.” Those stress creases were returning to Square’s face. “We don’t know enough about alien medicine. We don’t trust the other aliens to not hurt you. Too much medicine could be lethal.”

Oh. That made sense, though he wasn’t sure why the Humans were making such a fuss about it. If it was just a question of trusting their source, though…

“Bring them here,” he requested, attempting to flick an antenna in emphasis and failing entirely.

Noisy, who had been shuffling from foot to foot in his peripheral vision, darted across the room so quickly that the stranger couldn’t seem to hold back a fearful warbling shriek.

The Human completely ignored the noise to grab the back of the chair and pull. He easily dragged the chair across the room, and with it, a chunk of the paneling where it had formerly been attached to the medbay floor.

“Annoying,” Virgil scolded him, but his voice sounded amused even to himself. The stranger made a strangled chitter.

Noisy’s answering grin was genuine, if a bit (affection-fear-stress) strained, and the stranger was now close enough that Virgil could feel the terror in their aether ramping up to new, unprecedented heights at the sight. His feathers ruffled slightly in distaste at the abrasive feel of it.

“Gonna poison me?” he asked them bluntly.

“Absolutely not,” they replied vehemently. “I– I only have some medical training but I know more than enough to keep you stable for long term treatment, although erring on the safer side of medication dosages means you might experience intermittent pain– but of course there are ways to avoid that!”

Their voice went near-whispery with panic, probably because Square had shifted the slightest bit closer at the word ‘pain’. Virgil didn’t bother trying to shoot the Human a look, mostly because it was kind of hilarious. Everything felt kind of hilarious.

“The exact recommended dosages for Ampens should be accessible via online medical records,” they continued, each word nearly tripping over the next. “If you gave me administrative access, I could find them? … Please?”

Their aether felt too authentic for the treatment to be a lie, but the request was another matter entirely. Virgil believed that they wouldn’t commit any medical malpractice. He definitely didn’t believe that they wouldn’t send an emergency aid request to anyone and everyone the moment they got their tarsal claws on an online comms device.

(Nobody else got admin access. It was too dangerous. He couldn’t remember exactly why, but he wasn’t in the habit of ignoring his lower heart. Better safe than sorry.)

“Nah.” He narrowed his eyes in a pleasant expression. “I trust your experience.”

He fell back asleep to the sight of their mandibles curling in as though he’d just sentenced them to death.

–

The next time he woke up, he was in far less pain.

His mind also felt less like a fledgling lost in a thick early morning fog, which was good.

Now it felt like his thoughts were slipping directly from his skull out into the world, which was… less good, he was pretty sure.

The overhead lights were dim, which made it much easier to open his eyes and spot the Human half-slumped over the bottom half of his medical cot.

Heartfelt’s cheek was smushed against the thin padding on the table in a way that looked deeply uncomfortable, but they seemed entirely knocked out anyhow.

Maybe Humans were squishy for exactly this purpose. He would have to tell Janus to update his theory chart on Human anatomy. Built-in cushioning would be so difficult to justify on those online forums he liked to argue on, he’d have a blast figuring out the most convincing explanation for the feature. Remus would love it, too. He’d contribute the least convincing explanations during the brainstorming process, most of them inappropriate enough to get a user banned.

Where were they? He missed them.

He didn’t realize he was making noise until Heartfelt startled into wakefulness in front of him, with a sharp inhale and a reflexive upright jolt. Virgil suspected that he would have flinched if his current reflexes weren’t all made of jelly.

“Sorry,” Heartfelt said on automatic, and then their face pinched with (worry-alarm-sadness) upset and they leaned towards him. “Virgil? Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay… What’s bad? Hurting?”

That pitiful little croon was coming from him, he realized with a jolt, and the noise trailed off into nothing. He didn’t want to talk about his friends to the Humans. It would be too weird, and it made some unpleasant feeling prickle at the back of his ruff.

“I don’t have any bones left,” he said instead, because that was also a thing he was pretty sure was true. “Who took them?”

Heartfelt blinked at him for a long moment, and then covered their mouth with a hand. What were they trying to hide? Sobs? Were his bones gone forever?

“Bones are okay,” they managed after a moment, words slightly muffled. “All— All okay, it’s only medicine.”

Virgil tilted his head at them dubiously. His whole body felt floppy! How was that ‘okay bones’?

Heartfelt hiccuped slightly, and Virgil realized that they really were crying now.

“I’m so glad you are okay,” they said, extending their free hand until it hovered only a few inches away. “It was scary, you were hurt—,” their voice cracked.

Virgil reached out and wrapped a hand around a couple of their fingers, alarm fluttering in him. “Don’t— Don’t be scared anymore. I won’t be scary. Or hurt. I like you guys too much.”

“I don’t think that is how it works,” Heartfelt replied, but their lips seemed a little more upturned, their aether less tremulous. “Ignore me. Are you— want food?”

“Hungry,” Virgil provided, because out of all of them, Heartfelt routinely forgot the most words. “No, not really. I think I mostly want to know what happened.”

Seriously. What was wrong with his bones.

“Hungry for knowing,” Heartfelt nodded wisely, prompting Virgil to make an amused little trill. It was always fun when he actually understood their wordplay attempts. “I… don’t have the words. Hold on?”

Virgil nodded, watching them stand and only remembering to release their fingers when they hunched over slightly to refrain from breaking his grip. It was a short trip to the doorway, but they still managed to look a little unsteady on their feet. They whistled down the hall, and for a moment, he recalled an echo of the sound and felt his feathers fluff up slightly.

It didn’t take long for Square to appear, and Virgil blinked in some distant surprise at the lack of any splattered discoloration on their hands or clothes. Why had he expected something different? Square was always fairly tidy in appearance.

“What do you remember?” they asked, watching him with a keen gaze.

Virgil hummed and tried to actually recall the situation, which sort of felt like wrangling eels. “There were… raiders? And I…”

He turned his head to look at his other arm, the one that he hadn’t used yet.

It was set and bound, but that didn’t prevent the slow pang of panic that worked its way through him. He needed that arm for something, something important. It would take too long to heal. Heal for what?

Square was still waiting for him to continue, radiating anticipation.

“I got hurt. I… broke a rule?” he guessed, trying to remember past the delayed impact of pain and the resulting flood of shock. He must have done something, to earn an injury this severe. Even if it would hopefully heal clean.

The Humans were both wearing expressions that he was pretty sure meant noncomprehension, though Square smoothed theirs out quickly. “The opposite, actually. You refused to speak of our presence on the ship.”

Oh. That made sense. Raiders were bad news. They would have done something awful to his Humans, for sure.

“And you got them out?” he checked. The last thing he needed was an infestation of pirates. He already had an infestation of Humans. His ship was getting full. They’d have to start making people sleep in the walls.

“We took care of the situation. We’ll discuss it further when you’re more lucid,” Square said, voice tight. “But why?”

“The tunnels are uncomfortable.” Obviously. Most sections weren’t really made for long-term sleeping. In hindsight, he was glad he hadn’t tried to bolt into them and live as a stowaway on his own pilfered ship.

“What–?” Square stopped, shook their head. “No, why did you protect us?”

It took Virgil far longer than it should have to process the question, probably because it was an unbelievably stupid one.

Abruptly, he felt irritation bubble up.

“Come on,” he said crossly, “do you really think that lowly of me? You guys might be total assholes, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to hand you over to star-scourge smugglers.”

Square studied him with that direct, piercing gaze for a long moment. Behind them, Heartfelt was mouthing the Common word for ‘asshole’ with mild confusion, which was honestly more stressful to witness than the threatening eye contact.

Finally, Square looked away and bobbed their head in what could graciously be called a nod. “... Are you in any pain?”

Virgil tried to bob his antennae suspiciously, but mostly just made them flop sideways on his head. The question felt strange, coming from Square.

Maybe because they were always very utilitarian about their own pain? How did he know that, again? More importantly, did the other two know about that?

“No,” he told them stalwartly, ignoring the dull throbbing that had started up on his injured side. If they took any more bones from him, he’d turn into an Ampen puddle. “I don’t want to be liquid.”

Both Humans were staring at him now, which made it the perfect time for Noisy to pop in, guiding a distinctly non-Human handcuffed stranger along with him.

Oh, Virgil remembered this guy. It was good that they hadn’t been still strapped to the chair this entire time.

“Virgil!” Noisy cheered, “You’re alive!”

The stranger seemed both vindicated and relieved about the matter. Virgil wasn’t the best judge of mandibular facial cues, but he was pretty sure that at some point while he was unconscious, they’d burnt through all their active terror and had now settled into an exhausted sort of fugue state.

Noisy turned to Square to ask a question in Human, prompting a brief exchange that Virgil couldn’t hope to follow, all of them still shooting Virgil concerned sideways looks.

He then scooted forward to Virgil's bedside and with all the hopeful confidence of a fool, reached out to pat the top of his head.

Virgil squashed himself down away from the hand in an automatic show of displeasure, and when that didn’t deter the Human quickly enough, he lunged back up and bit him.

(It was fair play. He was pretty sure he’d given them a warning about the biting at some point. Like, eighty percent sure.)

“Mean!” Noisy huffed, but his aether was singing relieved-grateful loud and clear. Weirdo.

“Cranky,” Heartfelt added with a fully-fledged smile. “Back to normal.”

Square nudged the stranger, who apparently still had some active terror left in them after all, and they jumped forward to skirt around Noisy and survey the various scanners Virgil was connected to.

Someone should probably tell them that their life wasn’t dependent on the whole nursing-Virgil-back-to-health situation. … It wasn’t, right? … Right?

It better not be, Virgil thought sourly. His head hurt too much to navigate all that. Truly, the motives of his captors were mysterious and indecipherable.

He missed most of the medical discussion, but the consensus ended up being that Virgil was being disagreeable and did in fact need another dose of analgesic. He might have protested the matter more if it weren’t for the way a jolt of agony had spiked through him as he’d stretched to snap his jaws on Noisy’s arm earlier.

Apparently, sharp jarring movements weren’t good for recently-snapped bones. This seemed like something he’d known before being placed in range of clingy idiot Humans.

He wouldn’t be able to pilot either, he recalled as a pleasant numbness swept through him. Not with his arm like this.

The thought prompted a bubble of shockingly strong panic, but he couldn’t figure out precisely why, and the emotion dissolved like sea foam as he drifted off again.

Oh well. He’d probably figure it out when he next woke up.

#tktsaaiw #to know that song and all its words #sanders sides fic #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #space au #sorry 4 the delay i was tired T-T #my writing #writing

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glowstone23b · 9 months

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Striders!! I've been trying to get a design down for them for a long time, and I think I may have found it!

Headcanons and design choices if you'd like to see them :)

Striders are somewhat avian in appearance, with pseudo-beaks and vestigial wings. Their feathers have become specialized over time to become more like sensory organs than anything else (like cat's whiskers), but they're also used to show emotions. Their long toes allow them to spread their weight across a larger surface area, which makes it easier for them to stay afloat in the less viscous areas of lava pools.

As for the little one, being covered in basalt is an issue especially prominent among overworked domestic individuals, as they're typically separated from their flock. Striders clean each other as a sort of bonding experience between mates or siblings, and keeping their legs clean keeps them from slowing down too much and sinking in to the lava beyond repair.

The egg shown is what's typical for a strider, and they usually only lay clutches of one. Similar to kiwi birds, they have a long incubation time and a larger size so the hatchlings come out nearly fully formed so they can leave the nest and be independent in about a week's time. Young striders tend to stick around their parents' territory for a year or so before leaving to find their own.

Also-- striders get very protective over their eggs when they're brooding! Any traveler in the Nether knows to steer clear of strider nests-- they pack quite a bite! Luckily, it's usually just angry displays at passersby rather than any physical injuries. Still, best to keep your distance...

#glowstone23b art #minecraft #minecraft nether #striders #minecraft strider #minecraft striders #you will never get completed backgrounds <3 #i have brainrot for mobs but once i'm done with that my steam's gone so. rip #love yall. look at them #i have a lot of headcanons for these guys as well #drew a skeleton albeit not the best one #i'll have to practice #but. that can wait for another post i guess!

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purplelordscp035j · 6 months

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Bird lord short stories

Its quiet as usual in the library, only the sound of muffled angry yelling is heard coming from Albedo.

“GET OFF OF ME! I HAVE WORK!” it’s Odious, and Albedo is sitting on him because he refuses to sleep properly and hasn’t for a week.

“when you get a proper rest I’ll get off of you” Albedo sits there reading a book, “I don’t have time for this! I don’t NEED sleep! I NEED to get my work done!” Odious keeps trying to escape the ball of feathers that sits on top of him.

This goes on for a whole hour, Odious finally gives up and falls asleep from so much rage and energy used being angry.

“finally” Albedo gets off Odious and carries him to his room, setting him down in the little hole in the wall that is odious’s bed.

“you can’t keep doing that, we’re not hatchlings anymore and one day he’ll be too big” Nigredo huffs, “I want you to repeat the part where you said he’ll be too big” Albedo grumbles. “I see what you mean, but my point still stands” Nigredo fluffs his feathers at Albedo.

“Yes I know, but until he gets some proper sleep on his own I’ll keep doing it” Albedo walks back to her library.

#bird lords #shitpost #alagadda

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maboroshi-if · 1 year

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Hi there! I'm just so excited for this IF!! I've been a fan of Naruto since chilhood and all the features and the time period you've chosen are so interesting 👀

Maybe it's kind of spoilery but could you pls give us some info about Izuna? Like personality-wise or facts. I found so cool that you wanted to include a character that barely appears in the series but held importance in the lore! I would like to see how you pictured him if that makes sense? In the ask about leaving the village he seemed so SOFT 🥺 I cannot wait for my MC to crush on him 💕

Thanks! Sorry if this includes too much story details 😅 Best of luck with the project!! ❤️

So, I may be going completely off canon from how Izuna really was, but im taking liberties😫!

For the beginning of Part 1, I headcanon him to be like a feral kitten. He's baring his fangs, angry at the world, and hissing at anyone that gets close. But once he warms up, he's a pretty cool guy. He is still somewhat quiet but much warmer and kinder than he initially portrays himself to be.

Here are some lil facts about him under the cut tho

Has four older brothers. All of them, except for Madara, were killed in the conflict with the Senju. He doesn't know that three of them are dead 🥴🥴

Explains why Madara is so desperate to get him back.

Is an Aquarius (his birthday is one day before mine which is fucking wild 🥴🥴🥴)

Loves plants and gardening. He finds that it centers him and gives him a chance to be self reflect and be to himself.

Hates the smell of raw fish, makes him nauseous 🤢

Is SUPER SOFT for small animals. Him finding an injured snake hatchling and nursing it back to health? Totally a thing. Mending a bird's broken wing? He's doing it, and you can't stop him!

Is afraid of tight and small spaces. This will cause him to have a panic attack.

Also is afraid of being alone. The first few months in Kiragkure are HARD 💔💔

Has a thing for badgers. Will give badger facts and get SUPER excited if MC shows an interest. 🦡🦡🦡

Is completely devoted to surpassing his brother in strength getting back to his family. He's nothing without them.

Learned swordsmanship at the age of 6, became a pro at 11.

#char: izuna uchiha #he's just a baby #naruto if #maboroshi if #if wip #twine game #interactive fiction #twine wip #naruto #interactive games #interactive novel #interact if #anime if #cyoa #cyoa game

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justmelustfulghosts · 5 months

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Hatchling in Pink

#GIFER #cute #angry birds #hatchlings #angry birds movie #adorbs #gif #gifs

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tkworks80 · 1 year

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Wings

Chapter 5

Sorry it's a short chapter but, the next chapter is where the fun begins

Opening your eyes, you suddenly realized that you weren't at the construction site but at your old home. You groaned from the pain of the pounding sensation in your head. You slowly tried to get up but felt the tug from your sore ankle. Your neck was sore, your wings felt bound, and you felt so nauseated because you heard the familiar backstabber voice. A sudden surge of anger came rushing through you like a tsunami rushing to land. "GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! KEIGO YOU PIECE OF SHIT! YOU WENT TOO FAR!" you yelled out hoping he heard you. Trying to wiggle your wrists out of the bindings to get to your wings. Then you paused because you heard fast footsteps rushing into the room.

"Woah there y/n…settle down babe," Keigo said.

"Keigo. Untie. Me. You. Egotistical. Cheating. Lying. Piece of shit! So help me God!" You warned.

"Babe, calm down y/n. Do you think you can just get rid of me with a simple piece of paper? I don’t think so," Keigo sauntering closer to y/n. "Our bond is stronger than divorce, baby I only married you to satisfy the societal norms, we are not normal people with quirks baby," Keigo stopped at the foot of the bed.

"Our bond is broken, you cocksucker!" You yelled out.

"No, no I don't think so babe…we both have to agree to break the bond…you can't just say our bond is broken. You might as well talk to the wind," he chuckled. "You of all birds should have known," he chuckled once again.

"Fuck…what do I have to do to get you out of my life?!" You sobbed out.

"I'm glad you asked babe. All you have to do is give me a hatchling…nothing more, nothing less," he answered with a giggle.

"Your fucking joking with me, right? I wouldn't touch you even if you paid me," you looked at him with disgust.

"Oh come on now babe, I think I'm an attractive man, deserving to be a father. Besides Moni can't give me what I want only you can," he devilishly smiled at you. He turned to the bedroom door and called out someone you never wanted to see again. Moni slowly walked in with caution cause she knew that you could hurt her. Keigo was gently coaxing Moni to come closer to him. She did as she was commanded to do.

"Are you fucking kidding me?! You bitch! Let me the fuck go you cunts!" You screamed in anger. Struggling against the ropes violently. You heard Moni ask if it was safe for her to be in the room with the very angry y/n. "Let me go and I won't hurt your precious leftovers from Dabi," you snarled.

"Leftovers? I'm not no one's leftovers y/n," she hissed at y/n.

"Just wait until I get free, I'm going to give you a well-deserved ass beating and then fly you to wherever he's located," you threatened. "I don't know why you're doing this Moni…didn't I graciously give you Keigo at the hospital? Why the fuck are you helping him now?" You questioned.

"Huh? Moni…you were there?" Keigo questioned.

"Yeah, and yes she did give you to me," Moni whispered while looking down.

"Unbelievable…y/n, what the fuck," he whispered.

"Oh please, stop acting like a victim Keigo 'cause you're not. You cheated on me," you answered. Watching Keigo pacing back and forth from Moni to the bed. "What the fuck is wrong with you dude…did Dabi’s inferno attack cause you brain damage?" You scoffed. "Not that you got hit with it first," you quietly mumbled.

"What are you going on about? I apologized to you already…what do I have to do in order for you to drop it already?! FUCK y/n how can we move past this?" Keigo yelled out of pure exhaustion.

"That's the thing asshole…we can't. Just let me go so we both can move past. Aren’t you tired?! Let me go," you demanded.

"Your negotiating skills need a little touch-up y/n…you always fought first ask questions later kinda gal," Keigo let out a tiny chortle.

"Keigo…please babe can I leave this room?" Moni interrupted his chuckle.

"No. Stay right there babe," Keigo ordered. Moni stood there acting vulnerable. Her anxiety start to go into overdrive seeing y/n tied up on Keigo’s bed and Keigo’s demeanor was unconcerned. Like it was just a normal day at the office. Y/n caught wind of Moni's expression and thought she could coax her into letting her go.

Keigo caught y/n's expression and knew right away what she was planning.

"Stop it y/n. She's not going to help you. Her loyalty is with me babe," he said as a matter of fact. "She can't fight me babe…not like you can…remember she's quirkless," he reminded her. Moni looked up at Keigo with disappointment. "What? I'm just stating facts for this matter," he stated to Moni.

"See Moni, he is basically calling you a powerless woman with no quirk, and will let him use you. Are you going to let him talk to you like that?" Y/n smiled. You knew that Moni hates being powerless that was a flaw she shared with you during junior high. So you tried to exploit her weakness against both her and Keigo.

"Keigo, is that what you really think of me?" Moni questioned with hurt in her eyes.

"Moni leave the room. Don't you see what y/n is doing? She's trying to make us fight…pin us against each other so that you could help her," Keigo was convincing Moni. "Go to the living room sweetheart. I'll handle y/n on my own," he gently escorted Moni to the door.

When Moni left, he quickly turned to y/n. "Naughty, naughty babe…trying to start some drama," he smirked while opening a drawer next to the door.

"Keigo, what are you doing?" Y/n panicked. Observing what Keigo is doing you saw him pulling out a syringe and a vial. He taunted you with it.

"Do you know what this very important vial is? It's ¹corticosterone and prolactin mixed with a very potent aphrodisiac. Let's say that the more stressed you are, the more it inhibits our mating to be very successful," he slyly smiled. "But this is for later," he added.

"WTF…" was all you mustered out to say cause you were truly frightened at the unhinged Keigo before you.

"So, you're going to force a hatchling in me?!” you questioned.

“Didn’t you ask me what you have to do in order for me to leave you alone and I had told you of my desire to become a father?” he reminded you.

¹corticosterone and prolactin may be measured to predict when a breeding pair will begin laying eggs, how often they'll lay eggs, and the total eggs they will lay during the breeding season. Corticosterone production increases during activity and stress, inhibiting reproduction.

#aphrodisiac #yandere keigo takami #yandere hawks

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