#i have a vague memory of his route and this is it

[cognitiveleague]

On second playthrough of Stardew Valley, romanced Leah, an on brand as Hell choice for my ass who literally in real life gay married an artist who’s into (sustainably!) foraging wild foods.

Meanwhile in neither playthrough have I gotten more than like… 2 hearts with Alex, Haley, or… god, Whatshisface. Doctor. Harvey?

#Stardew valley #my real ideal in this game is a Leah/Farmer/Elliot queer poly artists’ collective honestly #just give me both of the nature-and-arts focused more obviously queer love interests with good hair I guess???? #I love Abigail but it would feel too much like romancing like. my younger self somehow #…my wife went right for Abigail on the first playthrough #idk who’s next. like I have no interest really in doing a whole playthrough for Shane or Alex or Harvey #probably penny or maru? #both of whom I initially gave good odds for my first playthrough choice #before getting distracted by Elliot’s good hair and vague weird renfaire kid vibes #I’m curious about Haley but idk anything about her route and whether I’d find it interesting or just like #weirdly emotionally unpleasant as a queer person with vivid memories of popular gender conforming straight girls making life hell #I may also romance Elliot with a male farmer at some point idk #Sam just feels a little too Baby to me somehow #love his friendship route though

[inbarfink]

One common Undertale misconception that really frustrates me is when Sans is portrayed with a strong innate sense for RESETs and alternative timelines. Like, that he remembers the RESET timelines better than the other characters who only have occasional feelings of deja vu or even that he can sense when a timeline is RESET.

And that’s, like, almost the opposite of the actual text of the game. While pretty much every main character can have slightly-different dialogue in a Not-True-RESET, especially if the Player had previously befriended them, based on the idea that they have lingering memories/feelings from before the RESET - 

Sans has no real dialogue changes based on this conceit. All of his changes are based around noticing Frisk has different reactions based on their memories of the precious timelines. 

Other characters do also make observations like that about Frisk, like Mettaton and Toriel. But Sans is distinctive because this is the only way his comments change between RESETs and there are a lot of them from him.

Because that is what really frustrates me about this misconception. People mention it as one more thing that makes Sans cool - but the actual truth is far more badass. Sans is one of the people in the Underground who remembers RESETs the least. I think memory-resistance to RESETs is probably tied to Determination. Flowey, the second-most Determined person in the Underground after Frisk, can remember everything perfectly.

Everyone else has some vague feelings and deja vus. And Sans, he’s the least motivated person in the Underground - both in the sense he’s lazy and in the sense he’s fucking depressed.

That probably means he has very little Determination. Thus, he doesn’t remember anything that happens between RESETs.

And yet, he is still the character most aware of them. Because he has the technological know-how to read and analyze timelines.

And because he has the observation and analytical skill to notice a RESET from other people’s reactions and behavior. Whatever it’s Papyrus thinking he recognizes someone or Frisk’s behavior implying that they know something they shouldn’t have. Sans main RESET-related skill is just being able to identify these moments and come to the correct conclusion about them. And with that he manages to be the most aware character in the entire Underground.

Like, the one point where it might seem like Sans remembers something from a previous Timeline is the Fake Spare scene during his boss battle. 

But it’s all pretend. Unlike the previous lines from other characters that I mentioned, this dialogue plays even if the Murder Route is the first time the player touched the game. Sans isn’t remembering anything in this scene. But he makes an educated guess that the Immoral Time God probably tried using their powers for good at first, so they were likely ‘friends’ in a previous timeline. And in most cases, his guess is right on the money - tricking many players into thinking this is another case of the game actually reacting to their past actions.

And as always, Sans can only tell if his lil’ trick worked or not based on the expression of the Player Character.

Arguably, Sans even uses his lack of Determination and cross-RESET memory to his advantage in his boss battle. After all, the whole point of this fight isn’t to kill the Player - Sans understands this is impossible. This is a war of attrition, trying to get the Player so frustrated and annoyed with the unfair fight that they just ragequit or RESET the Timeline. And this war of the Player’s patience versus Sans’ stamina and will is infinitely easier for him when he doesn’t actually perceive all the Player’s previous attempts against him.

Like, for the Player this might be the billion time they go up against him, they’re aware of some of his patterns and tricks now but they’re probably also frustrated and angry and exhausted. Meanwhile, from Sans’ POV, this is still the first time this is happening. He knows it’s not from the Player’s behavior and Frisk’s expression - but he doesn’t feel it like the Player does. 

He doesn’t feel the frustration and repetition of the endless stalemate. So he’s always as fresh as a daisy no matter how rugged the Player is getting.

And that’s part of why Sans is so cool in the first place, like, in general. He’s technically the weakest person in the Underground, lacking in every standard evaluation of power in the setting - no ATK, no DEF, no HP, no DETERMINATION. But he’s darn clever enough to overcome these weaknesses and even use them in ways that make them into strengths, enough to be one of the most dangerous and most aware guys in this whole setting.

Sans can’t remember anything, and that makes him awesome.

#undertale #undertale meta #sans #sans undertale #undertale analysis #sans ut

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Lox the Fox

Male Yandere Fox Hybrid x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, somnophilia, implied cum in food, magic, drugging, biting, claiming bites, knotting, manipulation, chasing, kidnapping, general yandere behavior, references to an incident with a sweet potato Word Count: 5.6k (I am so sorry that this comm took so long, though I was dealing with a number of different issues. Hope you all enjoy it!)

You were but a humble trader. Once somewhat prominent in the medium sized town of Ridgespire, humiliating rumors began circulating about being caught in a compromising position with a sweet potato. The totally baseless story spread throughout the entire town. You were a laughing stock. When you could no longer handle it you left for a fresh start and new opportunities.

You decided to set up shop in the town of Westwend. It was a small village now, but you saw some serious potential. It was situated in the center of many newer villages and small towns and would serve as a good hub for you. But the best part about your new home was that it was too far for any pernicious lies about you and a sweet potato to have followed.

The locals were very accepting of you as a new traveling trader, though you hadn't had a chance to get close to any of them. Once you had moved in you immediately began planning your trip through the forest to reach a tiny village on the other side. You'd stop there to rest and see if there were any trade opportunities then head north to a larger town.

You stuffed a huge pack full of food, currency, and trade goods before putting it on and setting off on your journey. The village you were heading for was through several miles of forest and the forest itself was a mile or so away itself. You could be there by evening.

You were warned about an infamous fox-man named Lox that lived in the woods. Supposedly he helped or hindered travelers depending on what mood struck him at the time. The local villagers were always wary about crossing through the forest. That is part of what made this trade route so potentially lucrative. Not many were willing to cut straight through the forest.

The weather was cooperating and making your trip quite pleasant. The morning air was fresh and brought with it the scent of honeysuckle, and other prairie flowers. You took the unused and overgrown path and managed to make it to the woods just before the heat of the day, the dense canopy of leaves providing ample protection from the sun.

Though you didn't know it, you had rapidly crossed into the territory of the fox-man, Lox. And with his magic he knew exactly when any human neared the proximity of what he considered to be his land. He had nothing better to do, and delighted in meddling with humans, so with great grace and dexterity he weaved through the tree tops and quickly came upon you. He used his magic to stay silent and invisible so that he could observe you a while before deciding what to do.

It did not take long for Lox’s careful observation of you to lead him to the conclusion that he was intrigued. He used his magic to peep into some of your thoughts and memories to get just a glimpse of the type of person you were. He saw bits of your travels, vague impressions of your views, and something about a sweet potato. He couldn’t quite make it out to be honest. But it didn’t matter. He could tell from your aura that you were a lonely person with few friends and no current ties to anyone.

He decided that instead of hindering you he was going to help you more than he had ever helped anyone else before you. Not just for your sake, but for his as well. He thought maybe he could be your mate. Though he still needed to get to know you a little better though before he was totally sure. He could only get to know someone so well through his magic, so he really needed a more direct method.

Rather than simply introduce himself, which he was sure would fail, he devised a cunning plan to get you to see him as your hero. First impressions were immensely important, so if your first time seeing him was when he was saving you then that would make it a lot more likely that you would fall for him.

You continued through the forest, laughing to yourself about how easy a trip this was. You couldn’t believe how the small village dwellers had cut themselves off from such an easy trading route just because of some stories about some magic fox guy. You could believe that beast men existed, you had never seen one yourself, but their existence was never refuted, but magic? That was just too much for you.

Belief in the supernatural and heading the warnings of the villagers would have served you well, but instead the trap was laid and you bumbled right into it.

As you continued on the forest path, nearly gone due to disuse, you came across a clearing with a small cabin. It looked wildly out of place in the wilderness. Perhaps this was the home of the fox man all of the villagers had been so wary of. After gawking for a moment you resumed your journey. You had been traveling for hours and were probably halfway through the woods by now.

As you neared an old but sturdy bridge that marked the final leg of your travels through the forest, you heard a bone chilling growl and your path was suddenly blocked by three snarling wolves. You knew you couldn’t fight them, but the cabin that you had passed wasn’t too far. Maybe, just maybe, you could outrun them and take shelter.

Thinking fast you through your pack towards them, hoping the food in it would distract them enough for you to flee to safety. But no such luck. They weren’t distracted by it at all. At least without it you weren’t so weighed down though. But you were tired from all the walking and the wolves were at your heels. You imagined that you could feel their hot sour breath at your back, but you didn’t look back to confirm it.

Just when you were sure that you were going to find your end in the jaws of the ravenous beasts an orange flash came out of the trees from the direction of the house and stood between you and the feral wolves. There was no mistaking it, it was the fox man of local legend.

The hybrid man stood before the wolves with his back towards you, you could see that he was of a lean build and average height with two triangular ears on his head that were the same color as his wavy red hair. And he had a fox-like tail to match the ears.

As confident as he seemed you seriously doubted that he could take on so many enemies at once. And then you saw why he was so confident. A red tinged gust of magic left his hands and blew the wolves several feet away, making them smack into the trees. With a frightened yelp they scattered. You were in awe, magic was real after all!

When Lox turned to face you he could tell right away by the admiration and gratitude in your eyes that he had made the right decision in conjuring the convincing wolf illusions to scare you back towards him.

Normally seeing your first hybrid man may have at least startled you, but when you met his orange eyes and sharp-toothed smile you could only feel relief. You almost wanted to hug the guy.

“Thank you so much! I really thought I was a goner. I have no idea what I would have done had you not shown up when you had…”

Your stomach turned just thinking about it.

“No problem friend, I just happened to be gathering fruit up in the trees when I saw your predicament.”

Now Lox just had to convince you to stay the night with him. Get to know him better. Once you saw how good of a provider he was and how kind he was you would surely fall for him. He just knew it.

“Well uh… I better go and get my things. I dropped them to flee. And then I gotta keep traveling. Thanks again!”

No no no, that wouldn’t do for Lox at all!

“Don’t be silly! Those wolves could be lurking anywhere, you should just stay at my home while I collect your things. You can always set off tomorrow, I will even escort you through the forest!”

Your heart was still beating at an intense pace with adrenaline leaving you shaky. You didn’t really want to just set off alone so soon after such a scare. But you really should set out again, and you had doubts that the wolves would try anything again so soon.

“I really don’t think that I should, if I keep going I can make up for lost time and make the village well before sundown.”

He couldn’t reveal his true intentions yet, but no matter what happened, now that he had taken such a liking to you, he was never going to be far from you.

“Well, those wolves can be pretty persistent, they aren’t really normal. And it would be really nice to have a bit of company. It doesn’t come very often out here. I don’t think that humans like me all that much to tell the truth...”

Lox put on his best pouting face to elicit your sympathy. To be honest he didn’t mind his loner lifestyle one bit. Though he did want just one person in his life. A good partner. And whether or not you wanted it, that partner was going to be you.

His deception worked wonders on you. Instantly you felt immense sympathy for him. He was helping you so much so you should be happy to offer him your company, if just for a day. It wasn’t like it was a great imposition on you. You wouldn’t even be alive right now if not for Lox and all he wanted was a bit of companionship in return. Besides, you really didn’t want to come across as some sort of bigot…

“Well… if you’re sure it won’t be burdensome, I guess I can stay the night. Thanks for the hospitality, but I think I should go with you to get my pack. It would be pretty rude to make you go and get it for me.”

This also wouldn’t do for Lox, he wanted to enchant your belongings to be able to keep tabs on you even if you left his immediate vicinity. He did not want to run the risk of you ever escaping him, he doubted he would be unable to track you, but it was good to be prepared. The spell was rather loud and involved flashes of magic, he couldn’t take the risk that you could wake up and catch him in the act so having you at his house while he went off to do the enchantment on your stuff was his best solution.

“Don’t be silly, I can zip along through the trees much faster than you can walk! It will be much faster if I go alone.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true… Okay, if you really don’t mind getting it for me.” You felt bad that he had done so much for you already and was now doing more, but his logic made sense.

On the way there you introduced yourself and the two of you chatted a bit about how you both got to where you were currently. He explained the tragic tale of how he had been orphaned as a young teen and had to raise himself in the harsh wilds. The two of you were already pretty close to his humble home so it didn’t take long at all for him to lead you there.

The inside was about what you would expect from the home of someone living the lifestyle of a secluded forest hermit. Not messy, but cluttered in a cozy sort of way. Not a lot of open space, every inch utilized in some way. There were some shelves filled with books and various ornaments and objects of unknown purpose, there was a desk in the corner littered with arcane looking scrolls, a small dining area with dried aromatic herbs hanging from the ceiling, and there was a doorless bedroom attached with an equally well stuffed bedroom, you could see a large bed with red covers and more shelves.

Before he went off to get your pack for you he offered you some miniature sandwiches and some tea and set them on a small table for you.

You thanked him as he left and nibbled on the food he had provided you. You were hungrier than you had realized though and before you knew it, there wasn’t a crumb or sip left.

Meanwhile Lox had already located your belongings and busily casting his little spell on your things. He was hoping he could convince you to stay with him, but realistically it could take a few encounters. This would help ensure that those encounters kept happening. He considered it the “dating” phase of your “relationship.”

He also hoped that you would eat as much of that sandwich as possible. He had sprinkled in just a little something to help you be a bit more compliant with the “romance” he had planned for later that night. He could have relied on it to keep you from being too alarmed at him casting a spell on your belongings, but he couldn’t be sure how much you would ingest. Lox didn’t want to be pushy about you consuming the food either, that would be suspicious.

No, it was better if he just enchanted your things now and then he wouldn’t have to worry about if you had eaten enough magic flake powder that he had given you. And if you did happen to consume enough of it then he could have plenty of fun with you.

The fox-man briefly considered whipping up a love potion, but they were often temporary, wearing off at inconvenient times and requiring reapplication. And he really wanted you to actually be in love with him, not just be under the influence of all consuming magic.

When Lox entered the home it had startled you right off the couch and you fell to the floor. Lox quickly helped you up, relishing the chance to make physical contact with you. He was beyond thrilled to see that the plate your food had been on was now empty.

“Thanks! Sorry, you coming in so suddenly just startled me. You weren’t wrong about how fast you were, I hadn’t expected you back so soon.”

“Told ya I was fast.” He beamed proudly as he handed you your belongings.

Over the course of the next couple of hours the two of you chatted while you taught him a card game with a deck that you always traveled with, but you became fatigued much sooner than you usually did. Surely that was just from all the travel followed by the excitement of earlier though.

Lox offered you use of his bed while you used his couch, but you wouldn’t hear of it. He had already shown you such kindness you weren’t going to just kick him out of his own bed. Finally he relented and just let you use the couch.

Sleep came to you with unusual ease, something that Lox was greatly anticipating. Now you’d be at his mercy and even if you woke up, the mind altering effects of what he had fed you would make sure that you didn’t remember it or if you did you'd think it was only a dream.

Lox lubed you up carefully and slid into your sleeping form which he had tenderly stripped bare. He bred you slowly and lovingly, deep strokes into you so that he could edge and enjoy every possible second of making love with his partner for the first time.

It was difficult, but he managed to restrain his instinct to bite your neck all over and make his claim on you visible to the world. He also held his cock at the base to prevent his knot from slipping in and swelling within you. Lox didn’t want to leave you with any suspicious soreness.

But the hardest thing for the fox man was pulling out and not filling you up full of his seed, especially when your eyes fluttered open and you moaned and babbled incoherently while drooling in pleasure even if your mind couldn’t make sense of anything that was happening.

After that, he came in you quickly and meticulously cleaned you up so that no evidence was left behind.

When you woke up your head was a bit fuzzy, light filtered in through a little circular window and by the angle of the sun it seemed that you had slept all morning. You thought you probably had overstayed your welcome.

You yawned and began to get off the couch when suddenly Lox appeared as if from nowhere with a hot plate of food. Had he been watching and waiting for you to wake up? You didn’t entertain the thought long, you were just being paranoid. He was a fox-man; he clearly had enhanced senses and was just keeping the meal warm for you when you finally got up.

"Quail egg omelet before you leave?"

Lox seemed refreshed and energized, and though you couldn't quite place why something about him gave you just the slight twinge of anxiety in the back of your mind. It was easy to push away though.

"Thanks, you didn't have to make me breakfast. I have rations in my pack"

"Nonsense, you're my guest. And I was making one for myself anyway."

It did smell rather enticing and he had gone through the trouble of cooking it so you relented and ate it happily. It was among the best dishes you had ever eaten. You wondered if he used his magic to enhance it. He had, actually, added his own "special ingredient" to the food he made for you, but it wasn't something magical and you really didn't want to know what it was.

After you finished the meal Lox, true to his word, happily joined you on your trip out of the forest. You tried to insist that you didn’t need him, that the wolves probably went off in search of easier prey, and that you were prepared now, but the fox wasn’t having it.

The trip out of the forest was largely uneventful, filled only with Lox’s chatter and questions focused on you. You supposed most people would have been annoyed by it all, but you knew he didn’t get much company and you were still so touched by the kindness that he had shown you.

Overall it was going well.

Until it wasn't. As you crossed the old, but up until this point, very sturdy bridge, it suddenly collapsed beneath you. With a scream you flailed desperately, luckily Lox was able to reach you, hold onto you, and jump back up the side that you had come from. After you caught your breath and let your nerves settle in silence you looked at the damage. The bridge was beyond repair. It would add a couple hours to your journey to go around to the shallow part of the river, but you certainly couldn't go across here anymore.

"God damn! That was... scary! Thanks for... saving me. Again..."

You were still shaking a bit.

"It's no problem! I thought the bridge was a bit sturdier than that. Good thing I caught you... I guess we'll just have to go back for now..."

"No it's fine, I saw an old map of the area, there's a place I can cross if I follow the river. Will just take a few extra hours."

You looked up at him.

"Don't worry, you don't need to escort me the extra distance."

That was, of course, the exact opposite of what Lox planned. He would be at your side for eternity. Whether you said you wanted him there or not.

"No, no! It's not a bother. Really. I'm usually so bored I just sleep most of the day!"

"Well if it isn't a bother, I'm glad to have a traveling buddy for a bit longer."

The two of you sat down for a couple minutes before resuming your newly extended route out of the forest. It went about as well as it had been going before the incident with the bridge, though Lox kept shooting you nervous looks, like he was holding back from saying something to you. Poor guy, he was probably just sad that the two of you would be parting ways soon. You made a mental note to reassure him when you got to the end of the forest.

This wasn't the end at all, you'd see him a couple times a month if this trading exchange worked out. Maybe even once a week if things got really busy.

The fox hybrid was a bit more distant in conversation, focused more on his thoughts. He had been sure that after he collapsed the bridge with his magic and then saved you from the disaster that you would be head over heels in love with him. Clearly he had shown you he can keep you safe from any peril... even if he had to make the danger himself. At the very least you should have agreed to stay at his home a bit longer so that he could get you to like him more.

Sadly, Lox could not glean any notions of love emanating from you using his magical abilities. But he absolutely couldn't accept that you weren't at least somewhat attracted to him by this point. He had, as far as you were concerned, saved your life twice. Then he had been very amicable and hospitable towards you. You must have been in such strong denial that your true feelings were unknown even to you. But he wasn't going to give up on his beloved, he just knew the two of you were meant to be together. No matter what.

His first priority had to be making sure you never made it out of the forest. If you left and he wasn't with you then you could get hurt. Or maybe someone else would take you! But he didn't want to scare you or tip you off.

As the two of you continued on your way the amorous man couldn't help but stare at you and think of all the things he wanted to do to you. Seeing a lack of claiming bites on you almost sent his instincts into overdrive, he had to actively stop himself from fucking you into the dirt, biting all over you, and having his knot tie the two of you together.

The two of you crossed the river and with each step Lox grew more fidgety as his desire to claim you grew, as did his worry that you may escape him if he didn't think up another plot soon. Then he had a great idea. Quicksand! He'd save you from it and you'd be so frustrated, messy, and grateful that at the very least you'd want to go back to his house for another night to rest and clean up!

Lox used his magic to create a patch of quicksand on the path ahead and used his power of illusion to make sure it looked just like the surrounding terrain until disturbed, just like natural quicksand.

And sure enough it fooled you. With a loud scream you suddenly plummeted through what you had assumed was perfectly solid ground. You fell forward and struggled to orient yourself in the thick muck. Lox grabbed your pack from behind and plucked you easily from the quicksand. You gasped for breath and wiped the mud from your face.

"Holy fuck, I would have drowned if not for you! You're a real lifesaver, Lox."

This time you didn't waste more than a few seconds trying to catch your breath before getting up.

"I guess we should head back to my place, we can get you all cleaned up and try again tomorrow."

"Oh don't worry! We only just passed the river, we can go back and I can rinse off there!"

You started to head towards the water with Lox at your side.

"Are you sure? You must be tired after all the excitement we just had..."

You stopped and looked at Lox. He seemed almost panicked. The gears in your head finally started turning. The dots were connecting.

"Every time something happens you are very quick to suggest we head back... and it's pretty convenient that you are always right there to save me from these sudden disasters..."

"What are you saying?" The fox asked with a surprising darkness.

The question hung unanswered, heavy in the air, as the two of you stared at one another. Then you bolted into the dense foliage. But this was Lox's forest, he had years of experience tracking and keeping eyes on any humans who wandered through it, and he had never been so motivated.

Every time you made a turn Lox would appear in a puff of smoke in front of you, using his magic to teleport short distances. He grabbed you, but you struggled out of his grip.

"I love you babe, but I am getting tired of this little game. Let's go home now okay?"

He used a wave of magic to animated the vines near you, they snared you easily. You wriggled and writhed like a maniac as he slowly approached you with a creepy smile on his face.

"You must be tired after that little chase. You need a nap."

Then he pulled out a pouch of shimmering blue powder from his pocket and blew it over you. You fell asleep instantly.

When you woke up from your fitful sleep full of nightmares and fear in Lox's bed. You had no pants on and a thick sticky fluid leaking from your entrance. You realized those nightmares may not have been dreams at all, and you felt instantly nauseous.

Luckily, he wasn't in the room with you. The sick freak seemed to be in the kitchen, you could hear him humming faintly as he went about cooking. He probably thought he'd bring you a meal in bed and you'd be grateful and everything would be just peachy between the two of you. But you had other plans.

The window was large enough to leave through, you hoped you could do so quietly. You wiped yourself clean as best you could and put the clothing that Lox has removed back on. You raised the window slowly and it didn't make any noise at first, but you came to a point where it was stuck and more force had to be used. It squeaked like it was shrieking out your desire to escape to the four corners of the world.

Since your cover was clearly blown you gave up being quiet and forced it open with all due expediency. You quickly scrambled out the window, falling forward into the dirt. You wasted no time at all in getting up and darting away as fast as you possibly could. But the eyes of the fox were on you from the window, watching you speed further away. He wasn't worried though.

Lox was delusional and arguably even completely insane over you at this point, but he was no idiot. He knew your denial about how you felt over him may still be too strong and you may try to run away. He had taken extra precautions. Precautions you learned of in a  very direct way when you slammed face first and at full force right into some sort of invisible barrier that Lox had erected a good distance around his dwelling.

You fell rather hard on your ass and cupped your face in pain. Then you heard a voice approach behind you.

"Are you okay darling? I didn't intend to hurt your pretty face." He waved a hand and green sparks from his fingertips healed up your injury.

"What the Hell, Lox!? You can't just keep me prisoner like this!"

"You're not a prisoner! You're my partner, and this is just to keep you close by. You're really fragile judging by how you handled all the dangers recently."

You stared at him for a moment, unable to think of a response to this complete lunatic, as he got closer and stared down at you with that freaky smile of his.

"I realize you are used to being really independent, but you really need to admit it already. I am the perfect mate for you. You have to know that deep down."

You started to object, but he sealed your words with a sudden rough kiss. He was deceptively strong, a fact you learned while trying unsuccessfully to push him off of you. He pinned you down on the ground with ease and smirked down at you.

"If showing off how good of a protector I am isn't enough to get rid of your denial, then I will just have to show you how good our union feels~"

Lox ignored your protests. His nails grew sharp and he sliced off your clothing as easily as if he was cutting through paper.

"I'm gonna make you feel soooo good."

He bit possessively at your neck. It hurt slightly but the unpleasantness was overridden by pleasure. For someone who was rarely around humans except to randomly help or hinder an occasional traveler he sure knew how to pleasure you. Then you remembered how he had violated you in your sleep. He had practiced. You redoubled your efforts to get free but the resistance only seemed to excite him more.

Lox's claws returned to being normal nails as he fingered your entrance, despite his increasingly feral state of mind he was still focused on making this as pleasurable as possible for his beloved little human. He used a small bit of magic to create an oil from his fingers to apply a generous amount of lubrication to you.

Shouts, screams, and the tears rolling down your face were all met with calming shushing noises and promises that you'd be moaning soon enough with fear replaced by delight.

His fingers wiggled within you, causing you to buck unwillingly in the throes of carnal stimulation. You gasped and whined at your body's betrayal. Lox pulled out his fingers and held your hips tight while aligning his cock with you and slamming into you with the perfect amount of force.

Your moan was captured by his lips as he kissed you again, biting your lower lip as he pulled away.

"I have wanted my knot in you for so long, you're gonna fit me like a glove~"

All you could manage was to grunt in defiance as you drooled dumbly. Lox began thrusting into you again and again. Each movement of his could only be described as perfection. He rolled his hips and plunged in deeply with slow strokes that steadily increased in pace.

It really didn't take long at all for Lox to feel your body throb around his large prick as you climaxed. If this had been a willing encounter, and if you also had not been fucked silly, you would have been embarrassed by how quickly Lox had made you orgasm.

The fox looked at you in awe, observing every detail of your face as you came. Your flushed face, the rise and fall of your chest as you panted, your eyes glazed and lost in sexual bliss.

"Wow, you finish even faster and more beautifully than you did while sleeping!"

Lox bit at your chest and up to your neck, delivering a harder bite there to mark you as his. You were so out of it that it didn't register in the way that it should have. What little pain there was Lox quickly dispersed with more magical healing and gentle kisses.

He continued pumping into you for well over an hour, eliciting enough moans, whimpers, shakes, and shudders from you until your voice was hoarse and your body limp.

And then, just when you thought you would die from all the overstimulation, Lox painted your walls white with a hot load of cum before his knot swelled and kept the two of you together.

"See? No one else can make you feel like this! And you take me just so well my beloved~"

When his knot finally went down he had to stop himself from diving back into you, the sight of you glistening with sweat and leaking his seed went straight to his cock. But he settled for just slipping it between your thighs and grinding into you while you sat on his lap in the bathtub.

Your comfort was the priority and you clearly needed special care after that mind shattering sex.

When you were all cleaned up, he carried you bridal style to his bed and bundled you up in soft blankets, he pressed a loving kiss to your cheek before going off to get you some food and water. Maybe something easy to get down. Perhaps some soup? Since you were still pretty dazed he wondered if you would let him feed you.

You were such a sweet fragile thing and would need to recover your energy for all the activities he had planned for the two of you.

#yandere terato #yandere x reader #yandere teratophilia #monster boyfriend #gender neutral reader #male yandere x gn reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere #My OCs #My OC Lox #Yandere Hybrid #Yandere fox-man #Yandere fox #yandere male #male yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere fic

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

could you possibly do a platonic gladers thing where reader was the first to come out of the box? like they came up with the note like teresa but “the first” if that makes sense 😭 anyway the reader is just sort of a parental figure to everyone? whatever gender you’d like to put and scenarios, the thought just popped in my head. ofc do this only if you’d like to!! pls don’t feel obligated!! love ur work <333 /p

HI LOVE THIS!! Thank you for the request ❤

Everyone loves Y/n

Platonic gladers x gender neutral!reader, set during tmr (movieverse)

3k - longish fic but worth it if you love platonic love 🫶

Warnings: discussions of Newt's suicide attempt; but more like the recovery after it, still please take care everyone, also language warning

1. Alby

You're the first one. Welcome.

You stuff the crinkled note back in your pocket just as you've done so many times before, re-examining it and hoping for some clue as to why you're stuck in here alone.

Except- you're not alone anymore.

The boy stands beside the Box, staring around the same way you did when you first climbed out, exactly 30 days ago.

Come on, Y/n. Time to go. You take a deep breath, resolving yourself, and you step out from where you'd been standing hidden in the trees.

The guy notices you immediately and takes a defensive stance, understandably hostile and scared. "Who are you? Don't come any closer!"

"Woah, hey," you raise your arms nonthreateningly, continuing to move slowly towards him. "It's alright."

"Where am I?" demands the boy.

"To be honest, I haven't got a clue," you tell him. "But you've got no idea how happy I am to see you."

His eyes narrow. "What?"

You shrug. "I thought I'd be alone here, forever."

At his silence, you continue. "So I've been here for a month. I was sent up in this Box, like you, with a bunch of resources and... hey, they've sent more stuff," you say happily, peering into the Box.

"Alright listen man," you say. "I don't really have answers for you, but I did start developing a routine for how to live here, and I'd love for us to work together."

The boy holds your gaze for a second, before giving a single nod.

You let out a sigh of relief. "Great, wonderful. I'm Y/n, by the way." You stick out your hand to shake. "Oh- memories. Your name is all you get, everything else is gone. But hey, let's make new memories here, together." You flash a cheesy grin and clap the guy on the shoulder.

You don't know how someone conveys sarcasm in a single look, but the new guy manages it just fine.

2. Minho

"Here, this way- shit."

You turn the corner and see the wall sliding into place, sealing off your exit.

"Which way now?" asks Minho, fear evident in his voice.

"Uh- that was already my backup route," you say honestly, backing away from the closed wall. "Just follow me, we'll find another way back."

You start down a lane, moving faster now, admittedly guessing your way through the paths and taking turns on instinct, aiming for the vague direction of the Glade.

Somewhere across the Maze a Griever lets out a screech.

"Yeah, okay," you mutter. Shuck. "In here, quickly," you direct, pushing Minho ahead into a smaller lane.

"Alright, here's the deal." You squat down, forcing Minho down with you, and keeping your voice low. "If I'm right, we're close to the Glade now. There should be a right turn at the end of the path next to us now, then a left and a straight shot back to the Glade."

"What if you're not right?" hisses Minho, wincing at the Griever's screech.

"Then we're dead," you say flatly. "Cause that Griever's in the same direction we're going. By the sound of it, we'll be running the path right beside it's lane."

"What."

"Look, Minho. Do you trust me?"

He hesitates, before; "Yes, fine. Let's go."

You shoot him a grin, patting his shoulder. "Perfect. Follow me, stay close."

You run through the route you'd explained to Minho, feeling your blood chill as you get closer to the Griever, its screeches becoming deafening.

You turn to check on Minho, who gives you a firm nod despite the terror you can see in his eyes.

The two of you turn into the final stretch, separated from the Griever by a single wall, and you sprint back to the Glade, heart pounding in your chest.

You collapse into the grass, breathing heavily as Minho falls in beside you.

"What the hell happened to you two?" demands Alby, running up to you and Minho.

You sit up. "Maze changed, and there was a Griever near the Glade," you explain. "Too near."

"Bloody hell," says Newt, hands balanced on his hips. "Are you sure this was a good idea?"

So far you and Alby have been the only people to enter the Maze. Today was meant to be a beginner's run for Minho, your newest Glader and technically the Greenie even though he's never acted like it. You wanted to build a team of Runners, to see if more people could help with searching for an exit.

You look to Minho, still bent over in the grass. "Let's talk in the hut," you say, patting his arm.

"What did you think?" you ask, after you've both gotten water and a few minutes to let the adrenaline fade.

Minho flicks his gaze up at you, before dropping it. "I freaked out. I don't think I'm cut out for this Runner klunk."

You hum softly, tapping on the table Gally had lovingly built and sanded until it shone. "Do you think everyone was immediately good at their jobs?"

"Running is different," responds Minho, dodging the question.

"You were fast," you say. "I think you'd beat any of us in a race if we bothered to test it out. And you've got a level head, which is the most important thing when you're in the Maze."

You lean forward. "But you also need the guts to set foot in the Maze in the first place. And Minho, you were the first volunteer to run with me today. That's exactly the bravery we need in Runners."

You're met with silence. "If I asked you to be a Runner," you say quietly. "Would you say yes?"

"You could be asking the wrong person," hedges Minho.

"I don't think so," you say.

"I- why? Why me?"

"Because I believe in you," you say simply. "I think you could do it."

The silence stretches as you wait for Minho's response. Then; "Okay, I'll do it." He gives you a nod, expression resolving.

You sit back, a mock-thoughtful expression on your face. "I mean, I said if I asked you, this was really more hypothetical-"

"Y/n, I swear-"

You let out a laugh, and Minho rolls his eyes at you, grinning.

3. Newt

Overtime, the Gladers have grown into a wider community, with new jobs and groups slowly added.

Alby steps into the leader position and you move into your gardening job, as well as mentoring the Medjacks on the side. You tend to pick up a little of every job, passing what you know to newly formed groups until they can develop on their own.

Minho's grown far beyond what you could have expected from him, moving on to memorising routes, constructing a scarily detailed Map, and hand-picking the new Runners.

Newt becomes a Runner too, and you almost lose him.

They're some of the worst memories you'll ever have, that day Minho ran in in the freezing morning, screaming for help. The Medjack hut was finished literally a day before, and the Medjacks themselves were barely trained to patch up the Slicers. So everyone turned to you... And you were so, so, out of your depth.

You'd built a temporary brace for your own twisted ankle from your first month alone in the Glade, but for this you were completely unqualified and unprepared.

It’s been months now, with Newt slowly healing overtime. You worked with the Medjacks to set up a few movement drills, but it’s been painstakingly slow progress.

“I want to try walking again.”

You lift your gaze to Newt in the dark. “Now?”

“I wanna go outside.”

You hesitate.

“Come on, Y/n, I barely got five steps in today before Jeff made me sit down again. I’m fine, I promise.”

“You’re fine when the Medjacks say you’re fine,” you reply.

“The Medjacks don’t know shit,” retorts Newt. “They’re just making stuff up as they go. That’s what we’ve all been doing.”

“I trust them,” you say steadily. “Alby and I chose them for a reason.”

“Y/n, can you please just let me outside.”

You let out a breath. “Fine. Take your crutches.”

You don’t go far; the ground is too uneven and the crutches slip in the grass. You end up dropping them near the top of a hill.

“Here, let’s sit.”

You reach a hand out to Newt, which he thankfully takes, letting you help him down so you’re both lying back on the grass, facing up at the night sky.

“It was a good idea,” you say, breaking the silence. “I get why you wanted to come out.”

"Yeah," says Newt. He jerks his chin upwards. “The stars, they’re what I’m here for.”

You tip your head back, following Newt’s eye line. “You know, my first night here, I hadn’t built a place to sleep. I just lay on the ground like this, looking up at the stars.”

Newt shifts, moving one hand to point upwards. "I recognise most of the constellations," he tells you.

"Really?"

"Yep. That's Orion, right there. And over there is Gemini. And that star is Sirius, in Canis Major."

You search your mind for a hint of a memory, trying to call up knowledge you might have had before being put here.

"It's all bullshit," says Newt.

You turn to him in surprise.

"The stars," he says, still staring upwards. "None of them should be arranged like that, the constellations wouldn't be that close, or even in the same area, if this was real."

"Oh," you say, voice soft.

Newt lets out a flat laugh. “I don’t know why they let me keep this knowledge, when they’ve taken everything else away.”

He sits up, eyes flicking down to you. “…sorry.”

You shake your head, sitting up and turning to face him. “It’s okay. I’d rather you say this stuff than keep it bottled up.”

“Right,” says Newt. “I guess we should… get back to the hut.”

Neither of you move to get up.

“Newt,” you say. You face forward, resting your arms loosely around your knees.

”Yeah?”

“Please stay with us,” you say, voice quiet. You turn to him, letting go of your legs to gently take his hands. “We need you, I- we- okay, let me just-” You take a deep breath. “Listen, we’re gonna get out of here some day. And I want to sit with you under real skies, with real stars, so you can tell me each and every constellation you see. Cause I know your nerdy ass studied all of them in another life, and I don’t know, when we run out, we can just... make up new ones? I think that’s something I want to do with you.”

“Yeah, okay- yes. Okay.” Newt’s eyes are wet, and he squeezes your hands right back.

“And talk to us,” you continue. “When you’re struggling, or hurting, or… anything. Just talk to us, Newt. Please. We need you, and we care about you, so much.”

“I’ll try, I’m trying.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” you say.

“God, okay,” you start, after staying there under the stars for a while. “Look at us. Let’s get back in the hut, c’mon.”

You help him up, handing him his crutches.

“So, we’re trying,” you say, looking Newt in the eye.

“Yes, we’re trying.”

You get the smallest of smiles from him, and count it as the biggest win.

4. Gally

"First he breaks all our rules, then he tries to convince us to abandon them entirely? These rules have held us together for years, why are we questioning them now?"

You frown slightly, taking in Gally's words from your seat at the back of Council Hall.

"If Alby was here, he'd agree with me, and you know it."

You watch pain flicker across Newt's face for a second, before he speaks. "Let's take a break. I want Minho, Gally, and Y/n in here, the rest of you just give us ten minutes."

As the others clear out, you join the three in the centre of the room.

"Newt, this really isn't complicated. That shank broke our rules, and he needs to be punished," says Gally.

Newt sighs, and you notice how tired he looks. He needs Alby. "You're not wrong, Gally, but..."

"Y/n, what are you thinking?" asks Minho, jerking his chin at you as Newt trails off.

You raise your eyebrows. "You know I have no say in this, Min. I'm not a Keeper, or any kind of leader. I'm pretty much just here to watch the meetings."

"Seriously, Y/n?"

"Fine," says Newt. "Then suppose we're asking you as friends asking a friend, not as a council leaders or Keepers."

"I don't-"

"Just speak, Y/n," says Gally exasperatedly.

"I- alright, the idea that Newt's having right now, mine's the same."

"Well, we'd love to hear it from your mouth," says Minho drily.

"Yeah Y/n, what am I thinking?" Newt crosses his arms, lifting a brow.

You sigh. "Punish Thomas for breaking the rules, but make him a Runner."

"You can't be serious," says Gally immediately.

Newt shrugs. "They're right, that's what I was thinking."

"I'm down to train him," says Minho. "I think he'd make a good Runner."

"Good. Call the Council back in then, we'll make the announcement."

"You're making a mistake," says Gally angrily. "Tell the others without me." He storms out as the rest of the Keepers file in.

"Gally-"

"Nah, Fry."

"I got him," you say, nodding at Frypan.

"You're alright," you whisper as you brush past a stressed-looking Thomas. You squeeze his shoulder reassuringly, and he gives you a small smile of gratitude.

You shut the door behind you, chasing Gally down as he storms into his hut.

"Gally wait-"

"I don't want to hear it, Y/n."

He slams his door shut, closing you out. You sigh, and let yourself in.

"Get out of my hut, Y/n."

"Stop, Gally," you say sharply. "Just listen."

Miraculously, he stays quiet, leaning back on the wall and crossing his arms.

"I... I know you're scared, Gally."

"What-"

"Oh my god, just hear me out," you huff, rolling your eyes. "Okay, so yes, we just got attacked by Grievers, right here in the Glade. And yeah, it's probably linked to Thomas. And- yes, making him a Runner and letting him pretty much just fuck around and find out could put us in danger. ...But he's also the closest we've ever been to understanding the Maze and this whole place. I think he's the key to getting us out of here."

You sit down on Gally's bed, gesturing for him to sit down beside you. He lets out a huff, but reluctantly takes a seat.

You look him in the eye. "Gally I've been here for three years, and it's great. We've built a structure, a life, a goddamn society. But I really, really want to see the outside world."

Gally scrubs a hand over his face, dropping his gaze. "Yeah, I know, Y/n. I'm just- I'm trying to keep everyone safe. Newt and Minho are blinded by this hope, they're believing too much in one guy who's been here for literal days."

"I know, I know. But we need to take that risk, if we want to get out of here, alright?"

Gally sighs, then nods. "Yeah, fine."

"I'm gonna help Thomas, and Newt and Minho in whatever plans they make."

You hold out your fist. "Promise me you'll follow the plans we make, and stick with us. Don't... you know, make your own group and stay here and get killed, or whatever you were planning to do."

Gally rolls his eyes at you, and reluctantly brings his fist up to knock against yours, following through with the handshake the two of you used to do after building something, back when you used to help out with the other jobs. "Yeah, yeah, we get it Y/n. You've been here the whole time, you know us sooo well, you can read our minds."

You grin widely. "Damn right I can."

5. Thomas (everyone loves Y/n)

"Do you think this'll work?" asks Thomas, chewing on his lip worriedly.

"Of course it will," you say. "Have a little faith in your plan, Thomas. You don't need approval from me."

Thomas huffs out a laugh. "Thanks. It's nice to hear you're confident, though."

You raise your eyebrows, smiling a little confusedly. "I mean, I'm glad my support motivates you."

Thomas squints his eyes at you. "Y/n, you know you're like... super respected, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, everyone looks up to you. You don't notice the way people turn to you in tense situations and stuff? You're kinda like an understated leader, I guess."

"Ah, right." You smile at him. "It's cause I was the first person here, which I do get credit for, I don't know why. Totally underserved, Alby's the one who built this place."

"Bullshit." You turn in surprise as Minho walks in, Newt following behind him.

"What?"

"Undeserved credit, my ass," says Minho, crossing his arms. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be a Runner."

"Yeah," says Newt, coming over to your side. He props an elbow on your shoulder, grinning at the frown you send him. "And you know what," he says quietly. "If it wasn't for you, I might not even be here."

You smack his arm. "Don't even say-"

"Gally, tell Y/n we love them," interrupts Minho.

"Huh?" Gally lifts a brow, before nodding. "Yeah, everyone loves you, man. Don't take it personally. If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't even be on board with this plan right now."

"Ugh-" you pinch the bridge of your nose.

Thomas leans in. "Told you so."

"God, let's just do the plan. Let's go, everybody out," you say hurriedly, shoving Newt out, ignoring Minho's snickers.

You stand between Minho and Gally as Thomas and Newt explain the plan to the Gladers, feeling yourself surrounded by friends; family.

Time to get out of here.

The end chapter is cheesy but I love it thank you for reading <3333

#the maze runner #platonic gladers x reader #alby x reader #minho x reader #newt x reader #gally x reader #thomas x reader #my writing

[onecupofspiders-please]

Astarion having to work his way up to causal physical affection

Pronouns: none! I used second person! (I’m still gonna tag x male reader tho because highkey unless specifically stated I don’t write with fem readers in mind)

TW: nothing explicit, but Cazador is mentioned and there’s a very brief mentions of creeps. There’s also one (1) brainworm joke. Talk about being touch repulsed at the end

Type: HC’s!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Ok so I’ve seen a lot of people argue both sides of this

-“Oh he definitely jumps on it” or “it’s a very long and very slow process”

-You’re both right, actually.

-At first, he won’t even be the one to do it himself

-I feel like he would be afraid

-Afraid that if he tries you’ll take it as something other then innocent

-Which logically he KNOWS you won’t. All he has to do is ask or explain himself

-But that’s not how anxiety works. Logic is long gone, a distant memory, a blip on the horizon-

-So he waits for you to initiate just like with the hug

-All while silently wishing you would

-If you’re not the causally affectionate type I feel like he would try to drop hints without actually saying it

-Maybe while you guys are walking he puts one hand in his pocket and leaves the other out, open, not fiddling with anything

-Just kind of letting his hand hang there and hope it’s obvious that it’s “perfect for holding” (his thoughts)

-Maybe he’ll causally comment on how busy the market is and how he hopes you guys don’t loose each other

-His eyes snapping over to you to see if you picked up on what he was trying to get at

-If you do then he’s overjoyed! Very proud of himself for his little stunt (even if it was needlessly complicated and he could have just asked)

-If you don’t he tries to seem unaffected. Acts like he doesn’t care but gets vaguely pouty

-He’s not mad AT you of course. He’s self aware enough to realize that it’s not your fault he can’t make himself ask, but it still hurts

-Pulling you back from danger (or even just so you don’t bump into someone/something) and pulling you against his chest in a very bad attempt at a sort of hug

-“You really need to watch your step, darling. Less you make an utter fool of yourself.”-He says while STILL holding onto you

-If you go down this route it’s gonna be a long ride. Sorry, love

-On the flip side, if you ARE causally affectionate then it makes things run a lot smoother

-Now I’m going off the assumption that you at least try to ask before doing things ok?

-Like maybe NOT when you casually grab his hand to drag him through a crowd, but before you hug him and shit

-Consent is important after all

-He gets VERY happy with all these little displays of affection

-He might act smug about it tho. Call you clingy or needy. Bro still has a rep to uphold ight?

-Either way though, all of this works up to HIM starting to test the waters on being the one giving the affection

-If it’s because you’re not getting it, and he can’t voice his needs properly, then he’ll have a “fine. I’ll do it myself” moment

-Anxiety can only have a hold on him for so long before the touch starvation wins

-If you DO get it, then it’s because all these little acts of affection are encouraging HIM to try as well

-Either way we get to this point don’t worry

-At FIRST? This seems like it’s gonna be slow too

-He has to steel his nerves and take a breath before quickly moving to grab ur hand in his own

-(Can you tell I’ve been thinking about hand holding?)

-And if you jump or startle-which is fair I would too. Mans hands are ICE-he’ll immediately drop it and try to play it off

-If you try and comfort him, or just grab his hand again, he’ll count it as a win

-If you let him play it off he will. But he’ll be cringing to himself when everyone else is asleep/trancing

-“Hey remember that embarrassing things you just did?”-Astarion’s brain(worm)

-Yeah it was a rocky start

-But yk, he’s never been one to back down for long

-Kind of had that mindset ingrained into him unfortunately

-(cazador when I catch you! When I CATCH YOU CAZADOR-)

-So he tired again. This time with better results!

-And he goes from there. Experimenting with little touches and shit

-Holding hands, holding onto your arm, moving your hand to hold onto HIS arm, leaning his head against you.

-Now this is where the “he definitely jumps on it” part comes in

-Once he finds his footing he RUNS with this shit, man

-It’s like all his anxiety was thrown out the window and now sits outside next to his logic

-Bro is linking his elbow with yours if you’re walking anywhere with a crowd just saying

-Idk why but I KNOW he’s into that specifically. I can feel it in my BONES

-Always seems to have a hand on your back or your legs are always touching

-Mans insists on sitting RIGHT next to you btw

-He is also a big fan of cuddling. Watch out tho you might catch hypothermia from being so close to him (/j)

-Now of course, there’s still some issues

-If you ask him to back off he will. He understands what it’s like to be overwhelmed by touch (and not in a sexy way)

-But ouchie that hurt a lil bit

-Like, again, he’s NOT mad. Maybe just silently disappointed

-And then he would feel VERY guilty for feeling like that

-You respect HIS boundaries! Why is it hard for him to do the same!?

-Please talk to him about it. Reassurance is needed. He’s terrified of being the very same creeps he had to endure

-And even if you don’t ask him to back off there’s still the reality that he just

-He has bad days, and he has worse days

-healing isn't linear

-There will be days where touch makes his skin crawl

-There will be times when he wakes up fine with it, maybe even craving it, but when you give it he suddenly feels the urge to vomit

-And for as much progress as he’s made old habits die hard

-He’s still working on voicing his needs and the reality is it’s likely he won’t tell you when he’s feeling like this

-At least not at first

-He might try to endure it for your sake. Maybe even because HE was the one who wanted it and he feels like he can’t back out now

-You would understand if he did. You’ve told him that. But again, anxiety beats logic

-Maybe you pick up on it. Maybe you don’t

-If you do then talk to him. Drop the touching and remind him it’s ok to change his mind

-If you don’t then he might snap on you

-Not on purpose, really. But it was building up so fast

-Normally he’s so GOOD at hiding these feelings, but because it’s YOU it’s suddenly so much harder

-If he does though? Please be patient with him

-He might storm off, he might ask YOU to leave, or he might sit there

-No matter what happens though he’ll apologize when he’s thinking clearly again

-If you got angry back at him you apologize too (or at least I’d hope you would)

-You talk about it. He admits he was feeling icky and that it really wasn’t your fault

-And while yes he was technically the one to lack the communication skills, it’s not really his fault either. Bro is only JUST now realizing he can say no without getting physical consequences

-You both mutually agree to blame it on Cazador and laugh

-^Said as a joke to break the tension but also actually literally fuck that guy hope he rots

-But in the end you guys talk and move on

-He works on talking about his feelings more, and in the mean time you’re there to listen and offer a hug when needed (or when wanted)

-He’s trying

-And he couldn’t be more grateful you’re there with him through it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello ok so I wrote this at 5-6 am please lemmie know if I make spelling mistakes. I am dyslexic and very tired

Also: @the-stage-manager (lemmie know if you don’t want me to keep tagging you btw :] )

#astarion x tav #gender neutral tav #nb tav #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x gn reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #astarion x male tav #astarion x male reader

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 2: Reunion

Summary: You helped Astarion complete the Rite of Profane Ascension and become the Vampire Ascendant. You agreed to become his spawn soon after. Once the Netherbrain was defeated, Astarion claimed the Szarr Palace, renaming it the Crimson Palace, for himself and set about his plans of domination.

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content.

Instinctively, you descend swiftly into a crouch, your eyes sweeping the shadowed tree line. You can smell them stalking nearby, shrouded by that murky gloom, but your sharpened eyesight can only make out the dark silhouettes of the trees. You scan your surroundings in a practiced manner of calculated calm, taking mental notes of possible hiding places and escape routes.

The toe of your boot grinds slightly back and forth into the ground as you determine your footing. The recent rains and high foot traffic around these small alleyways have left the ground slick with a viscous mud that would make trying to outrun your assailants perilous.

The pungent sickly-sweet scent of powdered iron vine intensifies in measured increments as the Gur hunters advance on your position. The powerful scent makes your eyes water, and you blink rapidly, trying to clear your hazy vision. Your heart drops into your stomach as that familiar rhythmic beating of hearts starts to come into earshot. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you listen closely, trying to discern how many hunters are trailing you.

One, two, three, four, five, six… Fuck, there are too many.

Kneeling behind an abandoned overturned wagon, your mind haphazardly flicks through various strategies. Avoiding a head-on assault would surely be the most sensible option. The Gur are highly trained monster hunters, making them a deadly quarry already, but these Gur would likely be fuelled by a rabid desire for vengeance after what occurred in the temple concealed beneath the Szarr Palace after the ritual had been completed.

They are inching closer to you in a practiced, systematic advancement. The increasing resonance of their hearts thundering in their chest gives you an estimate of their looming proximity. Moving slowly, keeping as low to the ground as you can muster, you creep away from your current hiding place, eyeing an angled corner that could provide you with some cover and, if you’re lucky, an escape route. Your boots sink into the gelatinous, muddy earth beneath you, eliciting a dull, squelching sound with every tentative step.

What had Astarion said - roll your foot down starting from the heel 1 joint at a time? How many joints are in a foot?

You scoff inwardly at the memory - Astarion had attempted to teach you his craft but had deemed you hopeless when you couldn’t even manage to improve your footwork after several lessons. In truth, you hadn’t put as much effort into learning as you should have because you found how flustered he would get at your ineptitude both amusing and utterly adorable.

Perhaps I should have taken my lessons more seriously.

Rounding the corner, you see the darkened outline of a hunter already standing at the fork in the path ahead of you. More of them rise from the long golden grass bordering the walkway. You can vaguely hear the slow, muffled footsteps approaching you from behind. It came as no surprise that they would’ve anticipated your movements. Corralling you in this cramped alley had been a well-planned trap, and you walked right into it. The pack of hunters strategically block any potential escape routes with ease as they encircle you, blades drawn and ready.

Fuck.

Your eyes dart frantically, examining your assailants one by one. A roaring tempest of loathing and disgust saturates their crazed eyes. You can virtually taste their acrid hate permeating the air. These people saw you as nothing more than an abhorrent monster to be put down. Their hearts hammer wildly in their chest, battering against their ribs in a morbidly musical cadence.

Settling into a defensive stance, you reach out to the weave, letting the well-known, comforting presence spread through every fibre of your being until you’re overflowing with it. The palm of your hand warms slightly as you prepare to cast. Spells hurtle through your memory as you struggle to settle on an appropriate one. 

“Impero tibi.”

You cast sleep on one of the Gur stalking in the tall yellowing grass, successfully incapacitating them, giving yourself an opening. The hunters attack in response, hurtling themselves towards you. 

Speaking the invocation for Misty Step, you dematerialize into a silvery fog just as a hunter thrusts the biting sharp edge of his sword towards you. Reappearing on the roof of a nearby home, you take some of the hunters by surprise. Casting recklessly, you manage to incapacitate several of them before they can recover. You take care not to kill even though it imposes risky limits on your ability to defend yourself. These people are just more innocent victims of Cazador and your misguided attempt to help Astarion reclaim the safety and happiness that was stolen from him centuries ago. You have damned an unfathomable number of souls to an eternity of suffering, including the Gur’s children, and you’re not keen to add additional blood to the sanguine sea you are already floundering in.

No more unnecessary bloodshed.

A hunter leaps onto the roof and swings his blade with a howling scream tearing from his throat. Throwing your body to the side, you manage to avoid most of the blow, but the cool, steel tip cuts into your snowy skin, slicing a shallow gash diagonally across your chest. The tangy metallic smell of blood infuses the air. It would be a pleasant aroma if it were not the scent of your blood saturating the breeze. Snarling with your fangs bared, you leap to the roof of the neighbouring small shack, hoping to get a little distance from your pursuer and the remaining hunters.

As soon as your boots thud on the wood shingles of the roof, you know you’re in trouble. The shingles are rotten and loose from years of exposure to the elements and neglect. They slide under your feet, throwing you off-kilter to your knees. You claw at the rotting wood, fingers trying to find purchase to stop your descent, but there is nothing to hold onto. You’re hurtled off the side of the roof to the slick, boggy ground in a heap.

The hunters drag you to your feet aggressively, thrusting your back up against the wood wall of that long-abandoned shack. The deteriorating timber whines under the pressure. The razor-sharp contoured steel of a dagger’s edge presses against your neck firmly. A scroll flashes and dissolves in the dim light cast by the low-hanging crescent moon, and a profound sense of fear mauls you savagely. Bolstering your resolve, you try to cling onto the weave, but it retreats and dissipates, rendering you unable to cast. The putrid tang of powdered iron vine and sweat makes your eyes sting, and your stomach twists in a violent upheaval.

Did they bathe in the stuff? Good Gods.  

“Where is your master?”  

My what? Oh…   

“I don’t know.” They will never believe you, but what did it matter? They will kill you regardless. 

Would I tell them even if I did know?

“Where is he hiding spawn!?” the hunter shouts furiously, spittle flying from his lips.

Spawn. This is what the “hero” of Baldur’s Gate has been reduced to.

Struggling, you try to shove them away, but their grip on you only intensifies. You recognize the faint hint of a Giant’s Strength potion lingering on their tepid breath. Attempting to escape their vice-like grip would be a useless endeavour. They’d known what they were hunting and came well-prepared. You shouldn't have expected any less.

Baring your fangs in frustration, you shout, “Did I stutter? I said I don’t fucking know!”

How long had the Gur been tracking you in the hope you’d lead them back to him, and why couldn’t they locate him without you? The last weeks you had spent with him, he’d scarcely been trying to conceal his identity, and a man like that hardly blends into a crowd. He turned heads everywhere he went. His very presence intrinsically commands attention.

Maybe he left Baldur’s Gate?

The mere thought makes your soul croon a forlorn, melancholic melody.

“Kill her. She either can’t or won’t give him up. She’s useless to us.”

The hunter nods their agreement with a ghoulish smile and unholsters the stake at their hip. An odd sense of relief floods through you at the prospect of your own demise; no more fear, no more pain, no more hunger. It sounds… peaceful. Your eyelashes flutter as you close your eyes in acquiescence, and ready yourself for the final blow.

You faintly hear the soft whispering hiss of a blade being drawn. One of the Gur holding you lets out a loud yelp, and their fingernails claw painfully at your skin as their hand is ripped from your arm.

“What was that?” the hunter shouts with ragged, trembling breath at their compatriot.

“I don’t know! I didn’t see any-” their voice halts abruptly, trailing off too little more than a hushed murmur vanishing into the gloomy twilight.

You squirm, trying to shake yourself free, tugging desperately at the arm squeezing you against the wall. Panicked, the remaining hunter plunges the stake towards you hastily. Their eyes bulge from their sockets and dart in all directions frenzied. As the stake draws nearer, your eyes reflexively squeeze shut.

A fitting end to my sad story, if nothing else.

A delicate gust of air hits your face, and your body is jerked forward as the force driving you into the wall is ripped away. You stagger slightly, and your arms swing out as you strive to regain your balance.

What in the Hells?

Your eyes snap open with surprise. Silvery rays of moonlight bounce handsomely off his alabaster skin, highlighting the chiselled planes of his face. A gentle breeze stirs and carries an all-too-familiar fragrance. Astarion heaves the hunter off their feet, suspending them in the air by their neck. They kick and flail desperately, trying to wriggle free from his grip. Guttural, rasping gurgles escape the hunter’s throat as their life is slowly squeezed out of them.

"Please, don't!"

Heart-stopping, deep crimson eyes flash in the chalky luminescence meeting yours. Gods, he’s even more beautiful than you remember. He sneers at you momentarily before closing his eyes and cocking his head sideways, grimacing as if what he’s about to do pains him physically. In a fluid, seemingly effortless motion, Astarion hurls the Gur into the wall with a resounding thud. The hunter falls in a motionless heap, unconscious but alive.

You can finally breathe a sigh of relief, but it’s short-lived. Blinding, searing pain radiates from your abdomen, causing muddled black orbs to flicker and dance in your vision. Looking down, the stake juts ominously out of your side. The hunter didn’t hit their target, but they hadn't missed entirely either. Your chest tightens as a rising panic grips you. Without thinking, you pull the stake free in a swift motion. It departs from your body with a sickening squelch, leaving a gaping wound in your side. Sticky blood starts to form a pool around your feet. The stake tumbles to the ground, falling out of your trembling grip.

Pressing your hand to your side, you glance up and meet Astarion’s gaze as your vision starts to tunnel.

“… Astarion?”

A nauseating dizziness seizes you, and your knees weaken. The last things you perceive are arms wrapping around you and your name ringing sweetly from his lips before you black out.  

Awareness fades in and out as you start to regain consciousness. Your eyelashes flutter, and you strain to pry your eyes open. They feel heavy and part open sluggishly. Your surroundings are just an obscure blur as your eyesight twists and undulates in rhythm with the pounding in your head.

Where am I? What in the Nine Hells happened?

Focus… I need to focus.

A nauseating drumming rasp thrums between your ears making efforts to concentrate painstakingly difficult. Vague snippets of memories start to form and clasp together piece by piece as you try to recall the last things you can remember.

Shadowheart.

The forest.

Hunger, all consuming, insatiable hunger.

The sickly-sweet scent of powdered iron vine.   

The Gur.

Dismay floods through you, and you leap out of a large four-poster bed. Agony radiates from your side and seers unforgivingly, igniting every nerve. Your legs fail and give way, knees colliding with the chilled floor. Trembling, you grit your teeth to stop yourself from crying out. As the harsh stabbing pain subsides, your sight begins to clear, and the chamber comes into focus bit by bit.

No... No, it can’t be...

A handful of variously sized candles illuminate the darkened space. The prodigious room is elaborately decorated in luxurious adornments but is otherwise empty except for you. Despite the additional ostentatious furnishings, you would recognize this place anywhere.

The Crimson Palace.

Pushing yourself up off the floor requires more effort than you would like to admit and leaves you feeling lightheaded. Chilly air caresses your skin, and you realize you’re in your undergarments with bandages wrapped snuggly around your chest and side. A hot flush of embarrassment explodes in your gut, rising upward like a rogue wave. If your skin could redden, you have no doubt you’d be as red as Karlach. Scanning the room, you see a clean robe has been neatly laid out, and you slip it on, thankful for the coverage. The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you pathetically try to sneak toward the closed door. 

I really should have been a better student.

The door hinges whimper as you carefully ease the bedroom door open. Peeking out from the small crack, you’re grateful to find the adjoining hallway is devoid of any sentient life. You tiptoe forward as softly as you can muster, but the ever-present faintness caresses the edges of your consciousness, making your gait unsteady. Tottering on your feet, the faded wooden floor whines mockingly at you.

Voices slowly come into earshot as you approach the end of the hallway. They start as a distorted mutter but become distinct as you inch further toward them. Instinct howls at you to run, but you would recognize that voice anywhere.

Shadowheart.

“She’s coming with me!” Shadowheart bristles. Her voice rings with a tangible agitation.

Astarion’s voice is a velvety dulcet in comparison, “Don't be foolish. She’s not safe with you, nor you with her.”

Shadowheart crosses her arms and shakes her head sneering in disbelief, “Are you seriously asking me to just… just leave her here with the likes of you?! Did the ritual rob you of your intelligence as well as your soul, Astarion?”

“Come now,” his words are soft, wrapped up in that beguiling tone you know so well, “don’t play stupid, my dear. It doesn’t suit you. The Gur will stop at nothing to capture and kill her. She’s not safe with you any longer. Surely, you want what’s best for her, don’t you? I can keep her safe."

Shadowheart snorts exasperatedly, “That’s rich, coming from you.”

His poise falters, and he slams his fist onto a large desk with an echoing bang, “She had a choice!” he snaps back defensively.

“Tell yourself whatever lies you wish, Astarion. It doesn’t change the facts.”

“Do shine your divine illumination on these “facts” for me.”

Her eyebrow cocks up contentiously, “Now who’s playing stupid?”

"She stays!” he growls deeply.

Shadowheart's hands move to her hips, and she widens her stance in a bold show of defiance, “Over my dead body.”

“Well…” his fingers come up to his chin thoughtfully, “That can certainly be arranged.” a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

They’re so engrossed in their squabbling that they don’t notice you standing in the study’s wide archway observing them.

It’s hard to believe we were all friends once.

“Will you two give it a rest? Good Gods!”

Startled, their heads snap towards you in unison. Shadowheart’s eyes flood with relief at the sight of you. She hurries over and wraps her arms around you in a gentle hug. Your thoughts swirl with the temptation to bite her. Your body goes uncomfortably rigid, and you clench your fists, digging your nails deep into your palms as you fight your appalling desire to sink your fangs into her neck.

I won’t do it. I won’t!

Shadowheart quickly notices your discomfort and releases you, slowly backing away with her hands held up, “I’m sorry. I forget myself.”   

You give her a tight smile, “It’s okay.”

“You’re bleeding all over my new rug,” Astarion interjects bluntly and a bit aloof, pursing his lips, “again.”

“What?”

His eyes fall to your midsection. Following his gaze, you see a wet maroon stain blossoming on the front of your robe. Blood drips onto the rug from the hem swaying loosely around your ankles. Your wound must have reopened when you jumped out of bed in your panic.

Shadowheart rummages through her bag and tosses you a healing potion, “Your wounds were too dire for me to heal completely, I’m afraid.”

Drinking the potion makes you cringe as you swallow the syrupy liquid. Healing potions, really just potions in general, had never been particularly appealing, but since being turned into a spawn, everything took on the flavour and texture of ash. Except for blood, of course.

“How did you find me?”

She casts a glance back at Astarion who is standing there casually, arms crossed, looking beyond bored. Your bewilderment must be apparent.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised, darling. I am more than capable of seeking out assistance when I choose. I am many things, but a healer is not one of them.”

Shadowheart shakes her head and rolls her eyes, “I was as surprised as you are when he showed up. I very nearly plunged a stake through his ribs right then and there.”

“You would have died in the attempt,” he says nonchalantly with a dark, malicious smile.

Blazing with the red-hot fury of the Hells, she veritably flays him with her eyes. He snickers his delight fiendishly, a wry smile widening across his face. He always did thorough enjoy the way he could get under her skin.

Despite her customary zealous demeanour, you can see the exhaustion in Shadowheart’s face; dark, puffy bags forming under her eyes. It’s readily apparent she’s been up all night tending to you, and knowing them, arguing with him.

“You look exhausted, Shadowheart. You should go home and rest.”

Her brows draw down in a slight furrow, and her jaw clenches as she glances between you and Astarion apprehensively. It’s obvious she’s scared to leave you alone with him. 

I’m scared too.

Trying to conceal the fear, you plaster on the most soothing smile you can muster, "I'll be right behind you.” 

If he allows me to leave…

She sighs, “Fine, but I expect to see you later, and if I don’t...” she trails off, turning to Astarion, “I’ll kill you, Astarion, even if it’s the last thing I do.” 

He smirks, entertained by her threats and bows shallowly, “It was lovely seeing you again, flower.”

With a final exasperated grumble, Shadowheart stalks down the hall and disappears, leaving you alone with Astarion, who is eyeing you with a hawkish intensity. You shuffle your feet uncomfortably under his probing glare.   

He is truly a sight to behold. Yellow candlelight flits and flickers in the deep scarlet hue of his irises. He holds himself with an elegant confidence that commands attention. It’s no wonder so many unfortunate souls met their grim fate after making the mistake of falling for him, enthralled by his masterfully executed masquerade.  

Just as I did. 

Even now, although your fear runs like drifting ice through your veins, you find his presence oddly comforting. You desire nothing more than to run to him and be wrapped up in his strong arms to spend eternity safe in his cool embrace. How many nights alone did you spend silently crying missing him? 

This isn’t my Astarion – not anymore. 

A mournful sign escapes your lips as you swallow the lump in your throat and blink away the tears welling up in your eyes.      “Positively elated to see me, I see.” Astarion purrs deeply as he takes a step closer to you.  

You take a step back, wanting to preserve the distance between you and him. It’s an odd feeling, wanting to run from him and to him simultaneously. Astarion raises his hands in a gesture feigning innocence, ceasing his advance. A pained expression is momentarily adorned on his face, but it’s so fleeting you wonder if it was ever even there or if you had just imagined it.  

“Why?” your voice comes out in a barely audible, timid whisper.

His brows knit together in confusion, “You’re going to have to be more specific. Why what?”

“Why save me?”   

Astarion leans forward slightly, "Would you have preferred the alternative, darling? Should I have just let those vile Gur put you down?”

“Yes,” you say bleakly.  

There had been a serene kind of peace, knowing the end of this ordeal was coming. It would have been a merciful reprieve from this nightmare you were trapped in. His eyes widen in surprise, a wave of shock sweeps over his features, disquieted by your brutal honesty. Astarion straightens, and he stands there staring at you apprehensively as if unsure how to respond. An array of almost imperceptible emotions flit across his face in rapid succession, but there’s no way to discern what they are with any degree of accuracy. He shakes his head bringing himself out of his thoughts. His eyes narrow, and that cold stone mask he wears slips securely back into place.  

“You die when I let you.”

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

AO3 [Crossposted]

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #astarion fanfic #ascended astarion

[yunarim]

╰┈➤ summary : you and your reliable partner grim are the most famous interdimensional travelers under the Official Isekai Association. you're used to traveling into psychological thrillers and horrors. however, this time something goes wrong, and you suddenly turn into the protagonist of… an otome game?!

— characters : jade leech, leona kingscholar | kalim al-asim, azul ashengrotto | lilia vanrouge, idia shroud

⌞tags⌝ : gn reader, fluff at times, occasional angst (more angst for kalim's & azul's parts actually), typical manhwas tropes, mention of a typical isekai manhwa death by truck hit... yeah, you go from the first route to the last (from jade to idia), hence the parts are connected

— w.c. : 6.4k+

⌞notes⌝ : continuing with the second part of the series ~

“Based on your expression, is the walkthrough going smoothly?” 

Grim asked, jumping on the bed you were laying at, and placed his head on your stomach, chewing something smelling like fish, and you hated the fact you were still not recovered after being pointed out what you smell like by Leona.

“I mean, I can’t see the progress, given you’re the protagonist for this genre,” Grim noticed. “How many are left tho?”

So that's how it looked from someone else’s perspective. Just routes to finish, game characters, literary images, not people who could feel, have their own personalities, and… Feel something for you. You have never thought about otome games before, they were out of your qualification, and now you were sure enough that once you escape this world, you’ll ask your boss to never transmigrate you to otome genre ever again. 

Funny enough, you’re used to dating. Sometimes counterfeiting feelings was a key to the true ending, so you just had to do that at times, but you never actually felt something yourself. And surely you didn't feel loved. 

“Four,” you answered after a short pause, closing your eyes. 

“Make sure to do your job well, henchman,” Grim yawned. “I’ll help you with my magic!”

“Yes…” You replied vaguely, appreciating that thanks to Grim you were given an opportunity to even stay here in NRC, considering you possessed no magic. “I’ll try my best…”

Even if you wanted to leave as soon as you could, having no desire to leave these people all alone after you suddenly crashed into their lives. 

You couldn’t find a proper way to name all the boys routes of whom you needed to… finish. Targets? Characters? Lovers? No, that wasn’t it.

In any case, you checked Kalim Al-Asim’s profile before heading to school. A bright, cheerful person radiating nothing but happiness and joy, a complete opposite of your gloomy and indifferent self. You presumed he would be easy to approach, given how easy-going he seemed, but his social status made you question the ease of the walkthrough. 

A son of a wealthy merchant, close to royalty again. Fine, you wondered if going through Leona’s route made you stronger and more experienced. 

After a half of the day passed you’ve realized you couldn’t find Kalim that easily as you first thought you would. Probably he was being more secure than Leona, and you tried your best investigating where he could be. Most obviously somewhere in his dormitory, Scarabia, but you preferred not to enter the dormitories itselves, ‘playing’ on neutral waters. The transmigrator currency was still the same, because you were paid only after completing the whole story, so you ran out of money to buy the info about Kalim’s location. 

After the classes you also realized you haven’t had enough sleep because of memories made with Leona haunting you at night, and you most probably needed to brew some coffee, which caused you to remember Jade and frown.

No, it’s not the right time to think about them, you thought, entering the school’s kitchen and stumbling upon someone, your forehead hitting someone else’s.

“Oh, I’m very sorry, I didn’t notice… Huh?”

You raised your head, pressing a hand to your forehead, and gasped when you realized it was none other than Kalim Al-Asim, who was mirroring your actions and massaging his head with his hand.

“Oh, isn’t it Yuu! Nice to meet you! I’m Kalim Al-Asim, but you can call me Kalim!”

You were spellbound to say something at the moment, appreciating his wonderful appearance and drowning in the melted gold of his eyes. 

“Nice to meet you too— Eh?”

Before you wanted to continue, a pink glow above his head made you jolt. 

The heart icon was already filled up to half of it. 

Your eyes widened. You’ve only met him! And you were sure that you hadn't met him earlier in previous walkthroughs, so how?..

“Oh, did I hit you too hard?! Oh no, what to do… Jamil, we should call a doctor!!”

Kalim’s face radiating genuine worry appeared too close to yours, and you realized that you fell silent extremely suddenly. You shook your head, replying with a confused smile.

“I’m alright, just lost in thoughts. How are you, though? I hit you too…”

“I’m okay!” He giggled at you, and his contagious laugh flowed to you, causing you to chuckle softly. “But still, we need to make sure you’re fine. Jamil, we should—”

“Yuu-san doesn’t seem to be in danger. Quit exaggerating.”

Ah, right. Jamil Viper, a person in Kalim’s profile mentioned as his personal ‘servant’. 

His figure appeared behind Kalim’s back and approached you. Jamil somehow reminded you of yourself with how composed and calm he looked, observing if everything was right with your forehead. You outstretched your hand to Jamil, regaining composure.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Yuu,” you said, receiving a silent nod.

“Jamil Viper,” he replied when you two shared a handshake, but a sudden Kalim’s complaint cut your strict-seeming atmosphere.

“I want to shake your hand too, Yuu!!” 

“Okay, no problem?..”

You watched through him, focusing on the heart icon filled up to the half, and deepened into your thoughts. 

Apparently the icon was filled thrice, and all three times symbolized three significant events happening throughout the routes. But given you two just met… Wasn’t the system making mistakes?

“Did you want to use the kitchen? You can join us! We’re preparing dishes for the party held in Scarabia. Right, join us at the party, too!!”

“You surely are enthusiastic, Kalim,” you smiled at him. 

“Stop inviting everyone without thinking twice,” Jamil sighed. “Not to be rude to you, Yuu-san.”

“It’s alright, I understand. Thank you for your offer, but it’s just what Viper said. I’ll make sure to join you one day, but I’ve got plans today.”

You actually hadn’t any other plans than getting Kalim to know better, and the party was an excellent opportunity, but at the same time you didn’t want to get too deep to the point you would miss him dearly after finishing his route too. It was getting hard for you to just have friendly chats with them, then growing closer to the point you couldn’t just leave them anymore. 

You wanted to play it safe with Kalim, although suspecting you would fail miserably. 

“Okay! Then come tomorrow. Or the day after, we’re going to have parties every day during this week~”

“Haha, that’s very generous of you,” you giggled. “Maybe I can help you with cooking today?”

“No need, I—” Jamil started talking, but Kalim’s bright shine overlapped Jamil’s words.

“It’s a brilliant idea, Jamil works so hard, it must be really tough! Right, I’ll help too!”

“You… you stay still,” Jamil sighed with a heaviness and annoyance, then looked at you. “Yuu-san is enough. Just watch.”

“Fi~ne!”

You asked Jamil where you could find an apron, and he suddenly appeared in front of you, pulling the piece of clothing over you and tying strings behind your back.

“Oh, thank you,” you almost whispered, not expecting Jamil to be so close to you, and glanced over to catch Kalim’s sudden gaze you couldn’t decipher, but a familiar glimpse of overjoy fled from his deep eyes for a mere second, and a bitter smile grew on his face. 

“Ah, I know!!” He suddenly jumped from the chair he was sitting on. “Yuu, you’re living in Ramshackle, right?!”

“Why do I feel like he’s going to suggest something crazy,” Jamil mumbled, but Kalim ignored him.

“Yes, I am,” you nodded.

“You’ll be free at 10 o’clock in the evening?”

You blinked absentmindedly. 

“I guess so. Why?”

“Then just be at home at the time! You’ll see~”

“Alright?..”

You heard Jamil sighing again and decided to let it be, grabbing vegetables you needed to chop, and continued your work, accompanied by Kalim’s soft cheerful singing.

You expected anything but a magic carpet ride at 10 o’clock in the evening. 

“Ready, Yuu?”

“No, I’m noooooot!!—”

And with that you flew straight into the night sky followed by Kalim’s happy noises. 

Actually, you thought that after dying for the very first time and then transmigrating from one world into another, make that cyclical, you would fear nothing, but suddenly soaring into the sky wasn’t included in your plans. 

But after seeing the canvas of the island and the sheet of the forest, framed by the endless sea from a bird's eye view, you were so enchanted that thoughts left your head, leaving only admiration.

“It’s beautiful, right?” Kalim said, looking at you and knowing you’re not noticing. 

“It is…” You whispered, remembering the same sky when you were enjoying fireworks with Jade, and shook your head. “Thank you for showing it to me!”

“He-he~ You couldn’t come to the party, so this is my apology for hitting you earlier.”

“As I’ve mentioned, it’s my fault too. I hit you too…”

“Aw come on Yuu, it’s okay. You even helped Jamil with food preparations.”

“Ah, yes,” you nodded. “He’s a wonderful cook, I wasn’t expecting!”

Corners of Kalim’s lips went slightly down, but he returned to his usual happy look when you turned to him.

“Right?? He’s incredible! There’s nothing he can’t do!”

“You surely like him, right?” You smiled at him cheerfully. “You seem to be very fond of him.”

“Don’t you think so too? You’ll realize how cool he is when you grow closer to him. Do you need any help? I’ve noticed your chemistry today~”

Your smile dropped, brows knitting together. Why would he say that?..

“I don’t think so?.. Is there any particular reason for me to get closer to Viper? Not to be offensive, of course.”

“Eh?” Kalim was obviously startled. “You don’t want to? But Jamil’s wonderful person and—”

“Kalim,” you stopped him. “I don’t quite get it at all and no, I have no intention of getting closer to Jamil. I mean, sure, I don’t know what can happen in the future, but as for the present, am I not being with you right now?”

Kalim gasped, gazing at you in surprise.

“I see he’s an important person to you, but we’re enjoying the evening together right now. Let’s talk about you instead, what do you think?”

“Oh,” he said. “You’re… what an interesting person you are, Yuu!”

“Y-yes? Me?..”

“Yeah! What do you want to know about me then?”

“Let’s see…” You hummed, returning your eyes to the sky. “Hm… suddenly I can’t think of anything.”

“People often ask if my family hires someone for a job, or does a certain facility belong to my family, or something like that… Would you like to ask something along those lines?”

“Kalim, wait, I think you’re misinterpreting my intentions,” you turned to him again, gently placing your hand above his. “I’m not going to be an employee under your family’s business. Why would you even think about it? I wanted to be friends in the first place.”

“Ah, friends!! Aren’t we friends already though?” He blinked at you. “Oh, wait, no, I should give you something!! Do you prefer gold or silver? Or maybe jewelry?”

“Kalim!!” You raised your voice, feeling a little overwhelmed. “I don’t need any of those. I was about to ask if you’re okay, it’s getting chilly…”

“Eh?”

“What?”

“Oh,” he laughed, his cheeks growing red out of shame. “Sorry, Yuu. It was just a precaution.”

“I don’t think I follow?”

“No, don’t worry. You’re an interesting person, indeed…”

You sighed, letting yourself lay down on the carpet and exhale the freshness of the night chilly air, and stare at the stars. 

“I don’t know you well. It’s literally the first day we know each other,” you started. “I don’t know your circumstances and what you meant by saying it was a precaution, but… it’s alright if you don’t trust me. But I can assure you that it’s okay, I don’t mind, considering I’m an alien from another dimension, it is only natural to question my intentions. And yet I want you to know that I just want to enjoy this evening to its maximum, and your company is very pleasant to me. We can even sit still and remain silent, somehow I think you’re a safe person to stay alone with. It’s cozy. Ah, sorry, I think I went overboard… Kalim?”

You shifted your gaze to him, meeting his widened eyes and parted lips, and then you blushed, realizing you really did go overboard, saying all your thoughts so easily, but you really couldn’t help yourself. 

Kalim suddenly burst into laughter, flopping down on the carpet with you and continuing giggling softly to the point that tears started accumulating in the corners of his eyes. 

“Are you alright? I said something stupid, sorry…”

“You’re not just an interesting person, Yuu,” he smiled, turning his head to you, giving you a realization he was extremely close to your face. “You’re wonderful.”

“I thought Viper was,” you chuckled, smiling at him and seeing him closing his eyes. 

“Jamil is wonderful, that’s true. And you’re also wonderful. But you’re…”

He fell silent, leaving you without an explanation.

“No, it’s nothing. You’re truly something. Thank you for saying all that to me, Yuu.”

“Remember, Kalim,” your hand acted on itself, grabbing his and interviewing fingers with his. “You’re wonderful, too. Appreciate yourself.”

And with a bright smile you showed to him, you also noticed the heart was filled to the max. You opened your eyes at once, jolting and causing Kalim to question what happened.

No… no, you couldn’t leave him just yet!! Not like that, not after you haven’t figured out an indescribable sadness in his eyes!!

“K-Kalim…” You mumbled, your fingers trembling slightly. “You’re still here…”

“Hm?” He tilted his head. “Of course I am, silly! Where else could I be?”

“You’re right…” You exhaled sharply, drawing him closer to you and enveloping in a tight hug. “Yes, you’re here. I’m glad.”

“Yuu?..”

His whole body was warm, and no bright light filled up the place, reassuring you that right at the moment everything was alright.

Two weeks passed since you two went on a magic carpet ride, and surprisingly you two really did talk, ate together during breaks, the time seemed to stop its flow. The heart icon above Kalim’s head was glowing with soft pink, filled to the top, and you couldn’t comprehend all that was happening. Your own heart and feelings resembled a ticking bomb ready to blow with all anticipation you’ve carried. 

Did he really feel something for you? But it was impossible to crush down the whole transmigrator system, you knew it was programmed just perfectly and flawlessly, never making any mistakes in its calculations. You’ve requested a percentage of Kalim’s indicators, which you never did here before since the procedure took a lot of time to analyze everything. And today it finally arrived, shocking you even more than you thought it would.

His so-called love meter was filled up to 100%, meaning he definitely fell for you, however…Why hasn’t his route finished yet?

Suddenly a familiar tall figure appeared in the entrance, and you recognized Jade glancing your way curiously.

Shit, you thought, clenching your shirt. 

“Yuu? You okay?” Kalim asked you, his head on your shoulder. 

You were sitting under the tree in the school yard, Jamil sitting at your left and doing homework. 

“Yeah, sorry I startled your sleep.”

“Nope, I wasn’t sleeping actually. Oh, isn’t it Jade over there? Hey, Jade!”

You wanted to tell Kalim not to ask Jade to come closer, but you actually had no right to do that, and nodded politely to Leech, escaping his focused look.

“Good afternoon, Kalim-san, Jamil-san. Yuu-san,” he greeted everyone, not letting his eyes shift from you. “How interesting to see you three together. I presumed Yuu-san… No, forgive me.”

“Yuu is really fun to be with, don’t you agree?” Kalim cheerfully smiled at Jade. “Right, would you love to join us? We’re having a picnic.”

“Would be wonderf—”

“Ah,” you suddenly mumbled, attracting Jade and Kalim’s attention. “Sorry, I think I should get going soon. You three may continue, though, I’m sorry…”

“Eh?” Kalim looked at you. “I thought you wanted to become friends with Jade?..”

“... Apparently Yuu-san is feeling uncomfortable in my presence,” Jade smiled slyly. “It is quite alright. I’ll get going then.”

“Ah, no, I… And he’s gone.” You whispered to yourself.

Right. It wasn’t his route. Anymore.

And before Kalim managed to ask you if you actually wanted to befriend Jade and that he could help, you all saw Leona approaching you with a strange look on his face. 

This day will be the death of you, really.

“Hello, Leona—”

“Herbivore,” Leona interrupted Kalim’s cheerful greeting. “Care to explain what the hell?”

“What do you mean, Leo… Kingscholar,” you carried a habit of calling your current ‘love interests’ by their name, and since Leona’s heart already disappeared, you shook your head. 

“You smell like me. And to remind you, we’ve interacted only once when you stepped on my tail.”

Kalim’s smile dropped, and his usually bright and warm features turned into worried and sad, which wasn’t left unnoticed by Jamil, who apparently had enough.

“I… I have no idea…”

“Senpai,” Jamil suddenly said, grabbing Leona’s hand. “Let me explain.”

“Hah?” Leona asked, annoyed. “The hell?”

“Just. Let me. Explain. Okay?”

Jamil looked at you with an expression saying ‘talk to Kalim immediately or I’ll punch you’, to which you gulped and nodded, thanking him silently.

“You’re so popular, Yuu!” Kalim said when Jamil forcefully dragged Leona out. “Everyone wants to get closer to you! Still don’t want me to help you with Jamil? His eyes were so dreamy when he looked at you just now!”

His eyes most definitely weren’t dreamy at all, though…

“Kalim,” you turned to him, taking his hands in yours and looking at him with all the seriousness you’ve got. “Stop misinterpreting my feelings. Please?”

“What do you mean?..”

“Be a little more selfish!” You pushed. “And please don’t decide for me or for Jamil or for anyone else. If I wanted to befriend Jamil, or Jade, or Leona, or—agh it doesn’t matter who exactly!—believe me, I would do that already. And yet I’m trying to spend more time with you. Did you question why?”

Because I need to finish your route and get on another one… Or so you thought, but that wasn’t the case anymore. 

You wanted to understand Kalim, to let him feel love and happiness, and as for you… It was enough if he could be happy, even if you couldn’t bring yourself to fall in love with anyone in this school. 

It was painful, but you couldn’t deny it anymore — all of them, Jade, Leona, and Kalim — they became dear and important people in your life, who changed it for the better. 

You couldn’t remember when was the last time you smiled genuinely, transmigrating into horrors and thrillers, and here you were, smiling at Kalim and embracing him with a sincerity you never thought you possessed.

“You always wish for other people’s happiness, restraining yourself and not enjoying the time you spend to its fullest. But Kalim, at least when you’re with me, don’t think about anyone. Think about yourself and… Let your own heart decide.”

“My heart…” He whispered, lowering his gaze, and you welcomed him in a soft embrace, drawing him to your chest. “Alright. Yuu!”

A familiar bright light you’ve been growing to hate each time appeared once again, and you worriedly glanced at Kalim, who was smiling. 

“I fell in love with you at first sight, Yuu. Thank you for not betraying my trust and teaching me important things. This is my gratitude.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead, and the last thing you saw was an image of his rosy cheeks and the most bright and genuine smile you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Thank you, too, Kalim.” 

And the hell to the system transporting you to your room in Ramshackle again, labeling Kalim’s route as ‘COMPLETED’.

“Y’know, sometimes it scares me when you finish another route.”

Waking up next to Grim after completing a walkthrough became a tradition you already wished to be let burn in ashes. 

“What do you mean?” You ask emotionlessly. 

Now that you think about it, you didn’t want to even find out who Azul Ashengrotto was. You possessed no desire, letting your inner child arise, and wishing for everything to begone. You were at the point of no return, and it was already driving you crazy. You certainly weren’t the type to abandon your duties and responsibilities, you've been chosen as an employee of the month more than once, your colleagues often staring at you in surprise at how you managed to save your psyche unscathed after surviving the most horrid things people could witness. 

And now you were closing your eyes, swallowing the urge to cry your eyes out and let you out of this circle of repeating routes. You didn’t want to love or be loved, you wanted to do your job. For what reason though? You never questioned, appreciating the chance to live endlessly after dying, wandering around the worlds with aeons passing through. 

You considered people here your responsibility, too. Normally you were okay with leaving the characters of the finished stories behind, justice being jubilated, and you coming back to the office and letting bosses choose another story for you to enter.

“I mean,” Grim said, crawling to your stomach. “It’s kinda terrifying to see how we remember ‘em, meet ‘em and casually chat, but they don’t even know what happened.”

“You’re right…” He really was. “Though I think they have some feelings left after I… after completing.”

“Fugnya?”

“Leona seems to have my scent lingering on him, Jade also looks like he remembers something. I think Kalim wouldn’t be too much different.”

“Isn’t it even worse than if they didn't remember you at all?”

It was worse, and Grim was right, hitting you right to the core. It was a living nightmare, knowing they possessed a feeling of you experiencing something together, and you were still here, they could ask you, see you, feel you at some point. 

But what will they do when you leave? 

“... I don’t want to get closer to Ashengrotto.”

“He’s your next target, right?” Grim asked. “But you need to.”

“I know,” you inhaled soundly with a heaviness in your chest. “So I came up with another plan.”

“What kind of? By the way, I don’t know about you, but as for me, I’d hurry up and finish ‘em all already.”

“Just to remind you, they’re not objects I could simply manipulate for my own purposes.”

“And you’re not an object yourself to excruciate yourself like that.”

You swallowed an objection, knowing Grim was surprisingly right. 

“As for the plan,” you shrugged the previous topic off. “You’ll see. I hope at least I will entertain Ashengrotto.”

You definitely had no intention of getting closer to Azul. From the very beginning after reading his profile and seeing 90% of the difficulty level to the point you weren’t sure if you’re capable enough to finish it yourself. 

You’ve created a scheme fitting Azul’s demeanor and attitude, however weren’t sure if it’s going to work, considering you actually wanted to make the system crash down and send you back to the office during the maintenance to never ever remembering everything again. 

Feelings were hard to possess. It wasn’t love, but it was you receiving it. You were sure they all loved you differently — out of interest, of accepting, of admiration. You, on the other hand, couldn’t name your feelings accurately, but you knew that emotions were scary, unknown and addictingly enchanting. 

Which is why you’ve entered Ashengrotto’s office with a feigned smile and a confidence you always seemed to demonstrate in other stories you’ve transmigrated into. Maybe a change of tactics would do?

“Ah, Yuu-san. Welcome to the Mostro Lounge.”

It, of course, was Jade who met you. You knew every corner of the Lounge after spending some time here with Leech, and now, receiving his unwaveringly polite smile, you answered with the same expression, greeting him cheerfully.

“Good afternoon, Leech.”

“How formal,” Jade noticed, but you tried to remain indifferent. “Alright, Yuu-san. How can I help you?”

“I’ve requested a meeting with Ashengrotto.”

And you had no intention of calling Azul by his name in his own route. 

It was controversial. You needed to gain his love and win his trust, but at the same time you weren’t sure for 100%, wanting to escape and let this be as it is. 

“Oh, indeed. Please follow me.”

His wide shoulders and arms that strongly held you when you almost fell off the cliff. The scent of the sea waves surrounding his figure and the way he glanced at you, thinking about something unbeknown to you. Argh, seriously, you wanted to turn back time and enjoy that night with a firework show once again.

“We’ve arrived,” he said. “Azul is informed you would come, so please come in.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Yuu-san. Be sure to come again for a cup of coffee.”

You clenched your teeth and nodded, knocking twice and entering after hearing ‘Come in’. 

“Good afternoon, Ashengrotto.”

“Welcome, Yuu-san.”

The fragrance of sea waves was even stronger than the one Jade radiated, conjoining with something salty and sweet at the same time. You made your way to the sofa and placed yourself there after Azul nodded, the sea blue of his eyes making you forget all the words you’ve prepared for a moment.

“I heard you have a request to make, am I being correct?”

“Very much so,” you grinned at him.

“Well then, you seem quite determined. I believe you are already informed that everything comes with a price.”

“Sure do,” you nodded. “My request may seem unusual, but I hope you guarantee to grant anything I desire?”

“How persistent you are, Yuu-san,” Azul chuckled. “But worry not, here in Mostro Lounge I can fulfill every wish you make. For a certain fee, of course.”

“Marvelous,” you clapped your hands and stood up, stretching out your hand for a handshake, causing Azul to look at you, questioning your actions. “Well then, hear my wish.”

“I’m listening.”

“Please fall in love with me.”

Azul’s glasses slipped off the bridge of his nose, his eyes widened in shock, and he glanced at you, feeling his cheeks growing hot.

“W-what— Excuse my sudden startle, Yuu-san. Your request is just… quite an unusual one.”

“You said you guarantee everything.”

“I’m not taking my words back, I really do guarantee you that, but… why would you do that?”

“Let’s see…” You hummed theatrically, drawing an outstretched hand to your chin and imitating a frown. “First, you’re handsome. Totally my type.”

“W-what are you saying?!”

“I solemnly swear that I’m telling the truth and truth only!”

“Y-Yuu-san, wait for a moment, would you…”

“Second, I want to experience love. And since you’re the one fulfilling the wishes here, isn’t it quite obvious I came to you?”

“Yuu-san… I believe you’re mature enough to realize that love isn’t something that can be imitated so easily, right?”

“This is why I’m asking you, Ashengrotto,” you suddenly bent over, meeting his flushed cheeks and giggling.

Ah, this is bad. He was actually cute.

“I know you won’t take it easy. Please date me with all the seriousness you’ve got and fall in love with me genuinely.”

“Yuu-san…”

A heart-shaped icon above his head filled with a small amount of a pink liquid, and you bit your lip. 

It was awful. You didn’t want him to fall in love with you, genuinely or not, you wanted to be free and him to be happy, not knowing you at all. Anything but destroying him after you leave.

“I promise to do my best too!” You smiled at him. 

But you couldn’t promise to make him happy afterwards.

“Your offer is surely an interesting one,” he averted his gaze, not being able to meet yours, eager and all bubble-like, following his, flustered. “But what can you offer for the fulfilling?”

“Ah, that.”

The system’s databases were sure something else. The information provided by them made your work easier, even if you had to spend all the currency you possessed, now having nothing. You switched roles with Grim, him being the one who became a ‘family breadwinner’ for a time being. 

“I’ll tell you my biggest secret no one in this school knows. No one in the entire dimension knows.”

“Huh?” Ashengrotto said. “What a flattering offer. Why should I trust you?”

“If you will fulfill my wish, you’ll be able to manipulate me, destroy me, make the whole world desire your knowledge and power, because I myself possess the knowledge every person would love to acquire.”

“You’re saying insanely nonsensical things, Yuu-san. But alright, prove it to me.”

“Great,” you clapped your hands. “I know there’s a photo of you and your classmates in the Atlantica Memorial Museum.”

Azul jolted at your statement, staring at your stoic expression.

“How did you…”

“Also,” you continued, getting closer to him and smiling slyly. “I know about the scheme you’ve planned to appropriate Ramshackle and all the things you’ve prepared for upcoming exams.”

“Yuu-san,” he frowned at you, standing up. “You’re walking on thin ice.”

“You wanted me to prove my powers, right? I did just so and I’m guaranteeing you’ll receive all of my power once you… fall in love with me.”

You lowered your gaze, and Azul wondered why would it even change so drastically, going from cheeky and sly to filled with sadness he couldn’t describe.

“... Alright,” he sighed, closing his eyes and fixing his glasses. “Let us sign a contract.”

“Oya thank you~” You giggled, grabbing a pen on the table, ready to sign. “I know feelings are hard to acquire, but please fall in love quickly, okay?~”

“We’ll see. Don’t forget you need to tell me everything once it’s over.”

“I won’t! He-he.”

You’re the one who’s going to forget.

“Uhm, Yuu-san…”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you find this position quite, uhm…”

“Hm?”

“No, nothing…”

You giggled with a soft exhale into the crook of Ashengrotto’s neck, thinking about how to escape the predicament you both happened to be trapped in.

You met him after his classes were over, waiting for him to come out from the auditorium, but only had he stepped out, he grabbed your hand and walked you away, accompanied by his classmates noises, hearing something among ‘Woah Azul’s dating someone???’ lines.

And then you realized he never intended to reveal your relationship status, and if the first two weeks went quite okay with you going on fake dates, no one managed to spot you. Or so Azul thought, but you knew Jade also figured out what kind of request you make, glancing over and smiling with an emotion you couldn’t understand. 

So today he accidentally led you two into an extremely small staff room of the Mostro Lounge where mops were stored, escaping other workers’ stares. And it wouldn’t be a problem if Azul didn’t hear Floyd approaching you two. 

So now you found yourself ‘trapped’ in here, your bodies being tangled, which seemed funny to you, while Azul was going crazy, his cheeks glowing crimson in a dim light radiating from one small lamp in the room.

“Ouch, Yuu-san, be careful.”

“The same goes to you!”

His hands on your back made you bite your lower lip when Azul tried fixing his position, but to no avail. You had no other choice but to be pressed to his chest, head empty of thoughts and common sense. 

“Argh, Ashengrotto, you seriously!—”

“Shh!! Floyd’s coming.”

He managed to press a finger to your lips, and you remembered why you found otome games strange in the first place. All those silly situations like this were so stupid and unrealistic when you were recovering after experiencing literal hell in thrillers, but now? Now you were melting under his careful movements and focused eyes fixated on the gap in the door, fishing out Floyd. 

You fell silent, averting your gaze, and felt Azul’s slow breath. Your legs went numb, and when you wanted to change your pose just slightly, you felt Azul’s grip on you tightening, and blushed. 

“Uhm, Ashen—”

“Yuu— Ugh, can’t you just—”

“Aha~ Did I just hear Koebi-chan?~”

You tensed, clenching Azul’s necktie and panicking just slightly when you heard Floyd’s voice.

“Where are you two?~”

“Ashengrotto, I think we should—”

“Yuu-san, just shut up already!!”

“But I might fall just—”

He turned to you with the brightest color of red on his cheeks, grabbing your chin and drawing your face to his, shutting you up with a kiss.

You could have sworn you saw Jade’s intense stare for a mere second, and then also him talking to Floyd.

“Floyd, here you are. Azul told me we’re needed in the kitchen.”

“Eh? But I don’t wanna~”

“Let’s go.”

“But Ja~ade!”

You two parted with a soft sound of Azul’s nervous breath, and he shifted his gaze immediately after you stared at him blankly. 

“A-Ashengrotto…”

“You’re hopeless, Yuu-san…”

“Sorry… O-oh…”

You noticed how pink liquid filled the heart to the half and inhaled sharply, grabbing Azul’s hand when he was going to open the door.

“W-what?”

“Uhm, nothing… sorry again.”

The kiss made you lose your mind for a moment or two. You needed Azul to fall in love with you as soon as possible before you fell for him yourself. 

“Ashengrotto.”

“Yes, Yuu-san?”

“Go take a rest. It’s painful to see you working so hard. I haven’t seen you sleeping for two days.”

Azul sighed, fixing his glasses, and continued writing something. 

“Of course, you don’t see me sleeping, because I do that in Octavinelle.” 

“I highly doubt that…”

You fell silent, sorting out the contracts he made, and stumbled upon a request similar to yours, gasping.

“What’s the matter?”

“Someone asked you to date them,” you frowned. “But you declined.”

“Of course I did.”

“But why? Didn’t you say you fulfill any wish?”

“Yuu-san.”

He stopped writing, sanding up and getting on one knee before you, causing you to blush a little.

“Because right at the moment I’m dating you… no, not just that,” he took your hand in his. “I’m falling in love with you, Yuu-san.”

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze and knitting brows together. It ached so excruciatingly right in your chest, you hated every moment of everything happening just as much you loved it. You…

“I have a question,” you said. “Have you not still fallen in love with me?”

“One more word, and I’ll start hating you instead, but…”

He placed his head on your knees, making you flustered.

“A-Ashengrotto?!”

“Yuu-san, first of all… There’s two things restraining me from loving you with all my heart.”

“Oh, I’m… All ears.”

“First,” he looked at you, pouting with a cute pinkish hue on his cheeks and ears. “Have you ever dated someone before?”

“O-oh?” You found yourself startled. “To be honest, yes, I have. Why?”

“Did you call them by their surname, too?”

“No,” you answered immediately.

“Then why do you call me by my last name?”

There was a reasoning behind that, but you couldn't even clearly judge yourself for your stupid decisions, so you remained silent, receiving his sigh as an answer.

“Fine. The second question possesses more importance anyway. Why don’t you allow yourself to love and be loved?”

You jolted, escaping his serious look, and not daring to give him an answer. You begged for the heart to fill up this instant, but Azul’s stoic gaze remained strict. 

“The answer is related to the secret I’m going to reveal when you finally fall in love.”

“And what if I tell you I already did?”

You smiled bitterly at him, interweaving your fingers with his. 

“You didn’t,” you laughed. “I know you didn’t. And you know it too.”

“Is it related to that knowledge of yours?”

“Correct,” you nodded. “I know how you feel.”

“It might be funny hearing from me, but Yuu-san. You can never know what one feels, even if in reality you had the magic helping you reveal people’s feelings all this time, or anything else — you can’t. Otherwise you wouldn’t say I don’t love you yet.”

You fell silent again. But the system couldn’t lie, the liquid of the heart was still on its half, so was he lying to you at this point? He wasn’t. You knew that too.

Will you believe the system or him, Azul Ashengrotto, his cold hands holding yours, cold too? 

It was insane. It was an absolutely absurd, stupid mess you hated with all your heart. The support and consideration of your own feelings Azul demonstrated to you made you go crazy with a warmth blossoming in your chest.  

“Azul…”

“Huh.”

He raised his head, meeting your surprised expression, being quite astonished himself, and smiled at you, clenching a piece of shirt in his fist.

“You really… What a controversial figure you are, Yuu.”

“Hey, I… Wait. No, no, Azul, wait!!”

“What’s with you?”

Bright light flowing around you made you burst into tears at once, throwing yourself into his embrace and crying hopelessly, him not realizing what was happening. 

“I,” you sucked in the air, cupping his cheeks and smiling at him. “I came from another dimension and I’ve got two more people’s stories to finish. Y-you, you were my fourth story in this mess, and… Argh, no, please, give me one more minute, I’m begging!!”

“Yuu?!”

You felt how the light was tying up your limbs, and despite your miserable attempts at escaping, it ached. It was not your body aching, but your very heart.

“Please forget about me. Don’t carry my secret, the next time we meet pretend you never felt anything for me. Forget me and.. Thank you, Azul.”

“Yuu!” He cried out, grabbing your hand for a brief moment before you almost dissolved in the air. “Thank you. Thank you for showing me love and letting me fall for you…”

Opening your eyes in the room in Ramshackle you shared with Grim, you’ve decided that you would rather suffer yourself than letting others experience that pain with you. 

Lilia Vanrouge and Idia Shroud are going to be different, you thought, seeing 100% difficulty level under Lilia’s icon in the system, trying to ignore the ‘COMPLETED’ line under Azul’s image, but sweet and salty scent of sea waves made you chuckle nervously and swallow your despair all at once. 

— tag-list : @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @red-viewe @68thsposts

© yunarim 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #jade x reader #leona x reader #kalim x reader #azul x reader #lilia x reader #idia x reader

[the-solar-system52]

INK DEMON AND BENDY THEORY

So Bendy's official Instagram account just posted something very interesting, and I want to theorise about it!

For awhile the social media account for Bendy have been doing these posts where Bendy takes a photo of a location from BATDR and steals an item from that location, and people have to guess what he took. I thought it was just an unimportant game to give the social media managers something to do, like Steelwool's 'Guess The Sketch', but now it's actually important.

The picture shows that Bendy built all his stolen items in the shape of his Ink Demon form, with an interesting caption. Some fans have took this post to mean that Ink Demon ordered small Bendy to make a statue of him, but I don't think that's true.

I'm a big fan of the "Bendy is the Ink Demon with the mind of a child, and they are NOT seperate people" theory, and I don't think this post disproves that.

So if you know my past TPOH and FNAF theories, then you know its time for another round of:

SOLAR NEEDLESSLY OVERANALYZING THE GRAMATICAL STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES TO MAKE A THEORY EVEN THOUGH MOST PEOPLE DON'T PAY THAT MUCH ATTENTION TO HOW THEY PHRASE THINGS

Lets dissect this single sentence like a frog!!

"His inner Ink Demon is always on his mind-"

If Joey Drew Studios had phrased this as "IN his mind", then I see how this would be more literal. Meaning that the Ink Demon is a separate entity to Bendy and is literally living IN his mind.

But they didn't, they said "ON his mind". This phrase is usually used more metaphorically. If I'm hungry, I can say that dinner is 'on my mind', but that doesn't mean my dinner is actuallly INSIDE my brain. All this means is that Bendy has been thinking about his memories of his Ink Demon form, and therefore made a statue of him when he looked like that. Possibly to try and communicate his complicated feelings through art, or maybe he collected those specific items almost subconsciously.

Second of all, if the Ink Demon really was ordering Bendy around from inside his mind to make that statue for him, then I don't think it looks right. In BATIM, there are multiple shrines made by followers of the Ink Demon like Sammy, that look more demonic. As you can see, Bendy's statue doesn't look anything like that. Not a candle or pentagram in site! I feel like if this was made by the request of the Ink Demon, it would look way more like the ones from BATIM. But it doesn't! Instead, I think it looks more like it was made by Bendy on his own accord, like a children's drawing.

"His inner Ink Demon-"

Again, Joey Drew Studios decided to take the less-literal more-metaphorical route of this phrasing. If they just said "THE ink demon" then it would imply the Ink Demon as his own separate entity. But saying "inner" when referring to a buried memory of someone's past is not uncommon to do for regular use as well. For example, if I draw cats a certain way then I can say it's my "inner warrior cats fan" coming out. That doesn't mean there's actually a warrior cats fan inside my brain ordering me around, it's symbolic.

"on his mind, searching for an exit."

This also doesn't disprove my theory. The Keepers technology is preventing him from turning into his Ink Demom form. This means he can't use his powers and is weaker and smaller. It's clear he at least vaguely remembers what the Keepers did to him because of how scared he is of the GENT building.

Since he is in an incredibly hostile environment, it's no surprise he'd be thinking of a time where he wasn't as vulnerable. And he would also be trying to find a way to be strong again, in his own child-like way. Which explains the statue.

Personally, I find this all way more interesting then "rrr ink demon scary rrr", but to each their own.

I have more evidence for my "Bendy is the Ink Demon with the mind of a child, and they are NOT seperate people" theory outside of this instagram description, but I've already written enough for this post. I may make another post about it but we'll see. Please comment if you have anything else to add ^^

#I really need to get a hobby #I just wrote an entire tumblr post analysing ONE SENTENCE about my hyperfixation #batim #batim bendy #bendy #bendy and the dark revival #bendy and the ink machine #batdr #batdr bendy #the ink demon #batim theory #batdr theory #batdr the ink demon

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Is it ever explained in the game why the Mc doesn't have their memories post-resurrection?

Like they get the Fool’s body and the fool is like new beginnings and stuff ( I ASSMUE, Tell me if I'm wrong) , but is an actual explanation in the game? Like did they also have to give something up even though the didn't make the deal? Is it because they don't have their original body?

Spoil it for me idc I just wanna know

The Arcana Brainrot Essays: MC's Memories

Hi anon friend! I hope you don't mind the ramble that's about to proceed -

Not only is the magic system of the Arcana pretty vague, when it comes to MC inhabiting the Fool's body, we have six different canon routes and twelve different canon endings, all with different implications.

With MC not being present for the ritual that gets their body back, it's fairly safe to assume that MC is not bound by any deals at the time of the prologue (though there is plenty of space to argue otherwise, given how vague the details are). Many of the routes include other characters reckoning with the deals they made at the time, but MC's reckoning has more to do with the truth than anything else. The best explanation, and to my knowledge, the canon explanation we get across routes for MC's missing memories is "because of the resurrection." That's it.

Here's where I jump from canon stuff to the implications I picked up through the different routes, focusing on the how aspect:

Similar to what other creators have pointed out in the past, MC's amnesia bears a lot of similarities to amnesia caused by traumatic brain injuries or (in my opinion) trauma in general. Based off of the occasions where MC is able to recover their own memory of dying, it seems like in at least some routes, the memories are still in there. They're just suppressed by a mysterious something. Given how the memory loss is associated with strong headaches, how said headaches are triggered by attempts to remember or vivid references to the past, and how attempting to forcibly remember something has led to further damage in the past, MC does seem to be in the middle of a nonlinear healing journey. As several of the routes progress, we can even see MC being able to succeed at mental tasks with lower levels of difficulty when previously it would have resulted in a debilitating headache.

My personal conclusion from all of that is that MC's amnesia is the result of the sheer trauma of dying and then coming back. It's a mind boggling experience simply to process the facts of what happened - let alone the physical and emotional experience. The story picks up with MC having physically recovered enough to live independently, and continues with MC's mental and emotional growth into fully growing into themself (in the upright endings). In some routes, they're able to recall a memory of their own as the story progresses, in other routes, any knowledge MC receives of the past is from other perspectives. Which leads to one of the biggest questions: can MC get them all back?

Some of our best clues outside of MC's personal narrative are the two other characters involved with returning missing memories: Muriel and Julian. (Asra, we know, forgot the details of the ritual itself, but otherwise has all memories intact. Nadia's missing all memories since entering Vesuvia for the first time, but it's never clear how much she gets back.) Julian recovers his memories when he reverses his deal with the Hanged Man, choosing to live as a normal person again with MC so that he can piece together the answer to the Plague. In his case, all the memories come back at once, fully intact.

Muriel's situation is different. He doesn't have any memories missing, he just has the capacity to take away the memories of the people around him. At first, the method for returning those memories is a sensory trigger (myrrh), but as time goes on and the deal loses its effect, the memories seem to slowly return to the people around him. It's different from Julian suddenly having access to the full breadth of his memories again, but the overall effect is the same: the lack of memory is resolved to the point that "normal" functioning can resume.

So, what does that say about MC's case? In short - anything. It really is up to how you imagine your MC, their past, the specific dynamic they have with their specific LI, how their future progresses post canon, etc. There's canon examples of characters regaining their memories gradually over time, getting them all back at once as the result of a deal, or simply learning to move forward and embrace the chance to start anew. And these are just examples of the default apprentice - there are plenty of MCs with gorgeously fleshed out backgrounds whose stories are their own twist on canon, where none of this really applies!

In short, how MC interacts with their missing memories is largely dependent on who your MC is. As to why they're missing - it's written as being because of MC dying and coming back. Whether that's due to the nature of it being trauma/a traumatic brain injury, or whatever other reason you can think of, is up to you ^.^

Cheers friend!

brainrot

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc

[goamu-blog]

Want to say I wanted to like SJ and YQY as a ship, I tried to like them as a ship, I read fics and saw arts but it just didn't work for me because I can't get their canon selves out of my mind, which is a first for me when it comes to shipping. These are my thoughts on them and from talks I had in a fic comment section with the author.

Firstly, their innate personalities would not match well together in a romantic sense. YQY is much too passive in regards to SJ. Its because of their brotherly bonds that YQY is so passive towards SJ and would not make a good match for SJ.

It feels like YQY wouldn't be able to handle SJ. Especially SJ more conniving sides. YQY would tolerate but still disapprove of some of SJ's personality sides. The books show that SJ tried to reach out to YQY, but because of broken promises and their brotherly bonds, YQY always took on a passive stance and is not suited to be with SJ in a romantic sense.

There is no reciprocation in their acts. SJ tried to reach out many times, YQY does not, YQY never tried to reach out to SJ in any way that mattered, so they never had reciprocation.

Not saying YQY wouldn't have his own issues with his past, but YQY always cared more about keeping his secrets and wallowing in self-pity and guilt than he did about SJ. He is mainly responsible for SJ turning out the way he did. If YQY didn't want to tell SJ the truth, fine, but he should have told SJ the way he treated some of his disciples was unacceptable and not allowed it to continue. If YQY did the bare minimum, then SJ story wouldn't have turned out the way it did. YQY is a toxic enabler and wilfully ignorant.

He completely enabled SJ'sworst tendencies, which made SJ go down the route he did. YQY is willing to let SJ go and allow him to drown in his own loneliness, resentment, and despair. YQY would watch, allow it to continue, and do nothing.

YQY had to have an idea of what SJ went through and even then he told SJ to adjust himself for other when they were disciples, to try to get along with the other disciples when none of them tried to reach out to SJ and spread rumors about him. It was always SJ that was the problem and needed to conform to fit in, never anyone else.

YQY never openly defended SJ from all those rumors or anyone else in the sect. When others asked YQY why he treated SJ nicely and why he would want SJ memories to return when SY took over, all he did was vaguely smile.

YQY never tried to openly defend SJ or try to restore SJ memories. YQY, like everyone else, preferred SY over SJ. To me, YQY affection/trust for SJ seems a bit surface level, I think he mostly felt obligation and guilt. He also doubted SJ innocence when LQG died. It doesn't matter if YQY would have tried to help SJ, he still doubted SJ and believed SJ could do that.

YQY actions when it comes to SJ aren't proactive. They are always a belated reaction. Only asking/acting when it's the point of no return. In the water prison(he let SJ be taken there), he asked about LQG, and he asked if things would have been different if SJ treated LBH better (it was YQY that allowed SJ to treat LBH that way). SJ knew that it was pointless to question those things because it was already too late.

YQY only decided to act when SJ legs got torn off. When SJ was literally being torn apart, then YQY decided that was a good enough reason to act. When it was far too late and irrevocable damage had been done. Didn't forget about the red string.

Had a talk about that in a fic comment section and liked the authors thoughts on it, will quote them: "The red string thing is funny because it broke in the end, and if as everyone says, the bleeding in PIDW extra shows that their 'fate is broken so it must be the hint for their red string', then the red string broke because of LBH(og), then wouldn't it actually mean YQY and SJ's so-called 'red string' was meant to be broken, because SJ was (as og villain) destined to encounter LBH. If the og story as meant by Airplane-bro was supposed to be 'as it was fixed by Shen Yuan', then the so-called red string was not meant to last. It was meant to be broken, because YQY is ultimately a passer-by in SJ's life. Very influential presence, but a passer-by nonetheless. Comrades, brothers, each other's support in the toughest times of their lives even, but never romantic." : end quote.

In a relationship, YQY would not take initiative and would be spineless, never stand up to SJ. He would let SJ self-destruct, drown in resentment, and self-hatred. YQY is too passive in regards to SJ, and there is no reciprocation on YQY side. YQY wouldn't openly defend or speak up for SJ against others and their rumors. YQY would never act until irrevocable damage has already been done.

Even if they cleared up the misunderstanding between them, they still would not be suited for a romantic relationship because of their innate personalities. YQY would always be passive, and SJ needs someone more challenging and passionate and has a personality that can match his.

To me, them being together feels like settling. They would have a passionless/lukewarm relationship, neither of them would have fun in it or enhance their lives. I don't feel like there could be a romantic spark/chemistry between them. It feels like a tepid relationship.

I think the best relationship between SJ/YQY is a brotherly one. With SJ being a grumpy lil bro to YQY doting older bro. SJ telling YQY not to be reckless, YQY wanting SJ to have friends, being proud when SJ gets along with others.

So, yeah, those are my thoughts on SJ/YQY. Not trying to hate on that ship or anyone that ships them, and I hope it didn't come across that way.

This is the first time I had a strong no for a ship and not just a casual no, and I wanted to get my thoughts in ordering as to why.

Not that a reason is needed to not like a ship, but this one is different for me. Also, I'm a bit sad that SJ/YQY is the most popular Shen Jiu pairing when LBH is right there. BingJiu gets so much hate when SJ and LBH have inherent compatibility in their personalities that makes them a great match.

When developed properly, they(BingJiu) can have a beautiful relationship. As for YQY, read a fic that made me think YQY and LQG would be good for each other, and they are just a side pair in a BingJiu fic.

Want to be clear that I'm not hateing on SJ/YQY or anyone who ships them, apologies if it came across that way. These are just my opinions, and I'm a little disappointed that I don't like them as a ship. Because it feels like a ship I should have liked, but because of how my brain interpret them, I can't enjoy them as a ship.

Its disappointing because there are a lot of great fanworks for them that are out of my reach. Anyways, I'll stay in my Shen Jiu/Luo Binghe corner. Its small, but finding happy BingJiu fanworks is the best.

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #shen jiu #yue qingyuan #qijiu #luo binghe #bingjiu #my thoughts #original shen qingqiu #mxtx #danmei #anti qijiu

[frostedlemonwriter]

A Re-Introduction to Writeblr

My name is Eric, and I'm a bit of a writer. Pansexual and in the past I identified as bisexual. I came out in 2002, but I never really brought it up either. Not until I found LiveJournal some years later. Now I'm proud of who and what I am. I've been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and ADHD. It runs in the family since some members of my father's family had Manic Depression, an old term for it. I try my best but often fail, and I apologize for when I do.

Okay with all that out of the way, as I mentioned I am a bit of a writer. My first story was a play I wrote in the fourth grade. At least the first story I can recall with more than just vague memories. Followed by sporadic writing over the years until about 2008/2009 when I started writing fanfic on a consistent basis. I will not mention the fandom here, though.

Now! I do tend to just write whatever I want. But cyberpunk, fantasy, and fantasy-western are the three rather vague genres I write in the most. Also, I am writing quite a bit of horror right now.

If you are so kind donate to my ko-fi.

Stories under the cut

STORIES

The Last of the Orc--Eithne's Faith

After her tribe was destroyed by the Norse at the beginning of the Viking Age. Eithne seeks a way to stop the tide of the vikings and the Christians that threaten to change her way of life. With the help of an old druid, she heard about a legendary weapon hidden deep in a forest at the foot of a mountain.

Find it here

The Voice In The Wires

Shortly after a gifted, but troubled, high school senior--Rachel--kills herself. The junior--Danika--she tutored begins to received text messages and DMs from someone who claims to be the dead student. At first Danika calls it off as someone playing a bad prank. Yet after she finds out other students she tutored received similar messages, Danika delves deep to find who would do such a thing.

Only to find herself going down a rabbit hole that leads to experimental nano-drugs, corporate cover-ups, and a young woman who discovers an ability to directly connect to the internet--where the vengeful spirit of Rachel dwells.

Tag: #voiceinthewires

By Axe & Arrow: The Saga of Teagen

Finished!

After her parents died when their longship capsized in service of Jarl Viggo Iverssen. He took in their only child, a young girl named Teagen. Born under an auspicious sign that the jarl’s seer divined weeks beforehand, he took her into his own longhouse. Without restriction, she could pursue a life of her own desire alongside with twin sisters Astrid and Helga, her best-friends, and youngest children, to the jarl. Almost forgotten, they too could find their honor and glory alongside their friend if they didn’t tear each other apart along the way. At the beginning of the viking age, many legends were still to come and Teagen would do anything to become one.

Tag: #axe&arrow

At The End of a Warm Gun

Finished!

Alexandra Sullivan is a young woman with a natural talent for marksmanship, and perhaps too strong of a sense of justice. Despite some tragedy, she doesn't stop her from pursuing her dream.

Backstory: The Union broke at the battle of Gettysburg on that second day, General Meade's larger force routed by the stubborn defense of the Confederates. Bloody familial war waged until Washington D.C., besieged and starving with its port blockade by English ships, conceded. The Confederate States of America had earned its independence -- it didn't last long.

Tag: #warmgun

Also various other WIPs.

I have a novel I am working on that I am not quite ready to debut. Alongside various short stories.

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #authors of tumblr

[luimagines]

Twin angst route, wild slowly regaining his memories after waking up from his 100 year nap and is desperately trying to figure out who the person who'd always been getting into silly fights with him, braiding his hair, taking care of him when he was sick, taught him how to cook and more in his memories. Only to fully remember when he came across his house where their grave was <3 (honestly this might work better for an older sib type of hc but I think it'd be silly if wild's twin was much more mature n responsible than him, like a contrast)

or what about an identical twin?

so every time Wild looks in the mirror he gets the vague impression that his face is... wrong?

Like... those scars weren't there before? or maybe he had a different marking? wasn't it supposed to be under the other eye? didn't he used to have a freckle just on his nose? Or a scar on his temple caused by a childhood accident.

But no- he's just remembering looking at his twins face, and only vaguely remembering the context, but no his actual twin.

#pinky replies #twins au

[sideburndanny]

Okay, I don’t know how true this is, but if it is, we only barely dodged a bullet.

I don’t believe for a picosecond that David Zaslav and his yes-men ever intended to bring back the shows they pulled; the fact that they went out of their way to go through all their websites and social media profiles to memory-hole every last piece of evidence that those shows ever existed should have made that loud and clear.

I can just tell how confident they were that nobody would notice or care. “It’s just a bunch of cartoons; it’s not like we’re canceling stuff people actually watch like White People Renovating Houses or Rednecks Doing Nothing in Particular.” They were so confident about their decision that they didn’t even do it professionally, just announcing it out of the blue without telling anyone beforehand and wording the announcement so vaguely that nobody had any way of knowing that the shows would specifically be deleted later that same day.

This shouldn’t have come as a surprise, since Mr. Zaslav has long epitomized the idea of “failing upward”; he’s the brain trust that restructured the once-aptly named Discovery and Learning Channels to center around trashy, exploitative reality shows, prioritizing short-term profits over any kind of stable model.

He spent years scoffing at other entertainment giants for daring to focus on scripted content which he smugly dismissed as a thing of the past, confident that his primary focus, a niche built on fleeting trends and pandering to very specific audiences to the exclusion of everyone else, would be the future of entertainment and the focal point of all pop culture.

After decades of creating nothing of substance, skating by on the moderate successes of low-risk-low-reward crap, and endlessly patting himself on the back for so doing, Zaslav suddenly had one of the biggest entertainment companies in the world foisted on him by the corporate robots at AT&T desperate to offload an unwise investment, and like a bear cub being handed a PlayStation controller, he didn’t have the first clue what to do with it.

Warner Bros was defined by scripted content that required actual talent and effort to make, and those were nowhere near Zaslav’s wheelhouse. Could this, people thought, be the day that he actually puts in the work to have his company create something of worthy impact to our culture? FUCK NO! Instead, he took the easy route by, quoth John Oliver, “burning down my company for the insurance money.”

Unfortunately, he was so used to nobody knowing or caring who he is that he never once considered that people would actually have reason pay attention to him this time, that if he goes out of his way to destroy the hard work of so many talented people purely out of arrogant refusal to admit he was wrong, of fucking course we’ll all notice!

If the above tweet is telling the truth, we can at least be glad that our voices are being heard and the people at the top can take notice. The HBO Max Purge wound up being such a PR nightmare and made the folks at Discovery so hated among the public that they actually caved and walked back their disastrous decision that they had been so adamant in achieving just the previous day. You can absolutely fuck off if that doesn’t prove that protesting works.

#hbo max

[xalygatorx]

Unbound | Chapter 14, "In Waters Deep"

Áine Ts'sambra—a wayward half-drow bard with a painful past—has her world upended when she's snatched up by a Nautiloid ship and furnished with a tadpole to the brain. In her journey to remove the infestation before it can turn her and her newfound companions illithid, she not only finds that their solution has more layers to parse through than she can count, but that a particular vampire in her party does as well.

Unbound is an ongoing generally SFW medium-burn romance based in the world of Baldur's Gate 3 between Astarion and a female OC. Any NSFW content will be marked in the Warnings section. Contains angst, fluff, explorations of trauma, spice, graphic fantasy violence, and a guaranteed happy ending.

For anything additional on what to expect (and not expect), check the preface post.

Summary: The group reaches an impasse in the mountains. En route back to the goblin camp, Voss pays them a visit with a proposition for Lae’zel. Áine finds herself in a difficult conversation with an inebriated, existential Gale away from camp. Gale puts Áine in an uncomfortable (and triggering) position. Astarion is not pleased.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!OC

Warnings: 18+/NSFW; non-con/attempted assault (start and end will be noted in the copy; specifically descriptions of a nonconsensual kiss and a physical struggle) by a canon character (Gale); descriptions of feeling triggered, vague flashbacks, and a panic attack; angry/violent Astarion; suggestive content (in memories) & dialogue; brief descriptions of graphic violence and blood; angst; lightly proofread

Word Count: 7k

Listening to: Organs - Of Monsters & Men

Áine hung her head, her hands painfully clenched on her hips. All this way and the godsdamned pathway to Moonrise they’d counted on being at the base of the mountain pass was sealed off. Her heart pounded, hurling itself against her ribs as if it too could hardly stand her, and she felt the beginnings of a feverish headache building just above her right eye.

A tug at one of her digging fingertips jarred her mixed self-pity and self-loathing. The tug returned, this time successfully removing her bruising grip on her flesh. The icy touch threaded its nimble fingers through hers, clumsy but ever more practiced in the gesture. The pad of Astarion’s thumb swept her knuckles and Áine lost a little steam.

“This is on me,” Halsin was insisting, gazing at the gnarled sealed passage with lingering shock. “Last I was here, this seal did not exist—that was however years upon years ago.”

“We had no way to know until we arrived,” Gale suggested, offering an understanding look to Halsin despite the strained fix of his brow. “And there remains the Underdark passage. Which, in fairness, could be just as blocked. And in that case…”

“In that case, we find another way,” Wyll posited, ever the optimist or at least the champion of persevering. “The cult is traveling between this stretch of Faerûn and Moonrise one way or another. We will find their path and use it against them.”

“Fuck yeah,” Karlach rallied to the plan.

Áine nodded, drawing in a deep breath to steady herself. “Well said, all of you,” she agreed, listening to everyone’s footsteps starting anew to begin the path back up the mountain. She looked up at the vampire beside her, gently squeezing his hand. “Thank you.”

“For?” he wondered, keeping their hands joined as they followed the others.

The bard shrugged, swinging their entwined fingers up a little as she said, “This, I suppose. And just in general.”

Astarion tsked in disapproval. “Just ‘in general’? That hardly answers my question, my dear.”

Áine provided only an angelic smile in response and the sight caused Astarion to blush. Her smile brightened into a grin. “You know, I think my blood looks better on you than it does on me,” she commented, admiring his pinkened cheeks and ear tips.

“Hush, you,” Astarion grumbled, feeling his skin heat further and feeding into an embarrassment cycle he would have a difficult time subduing for the next few minutes. He sought to change the subject. “How fares your shoulder today?”

She gave an experimental roll of the joint, her eye twitching faintly as she rounded it back into place. “Still a bit stiff, but much better than it would’ve been otherwise thanks to you,” she said. 

“Are we discussing your shoulder?” Shadowheart had slowed to walk with them, pleased to find that they were already discussing what she’d dropped back to ask Áine. Astarion stiffened when the cleric cast a proud glance his way. “How did my student manage?”

Gods above, his face was going up in flames again. Well, as much “in flames” as a vampire’s flesh could be.

Áine, however, was very interested in finally getting more of an answer to the unanswered question she’d posed the night before. “Student?” she repeated with interest. Her thumb was tracing small, soothing circles against the side of Astarion’s hand and he couldn’t decide if he was comforted by the fact that she seemed to know this conversation was already putting him on edge. The affectionate strokes did keep him from grumbling and stomping away at least.

Shadowheart smiled wider. “Of course,” she said, getting what she saw as a full-sweep benefit of embarrassing their vampire and letting Áine in on their exchange to properly act as Astarion’s unappointed wingwoman. He didn’t recognize her actions as helpful yet, but he would. “We had an impromptu lesson last night on how to use massage in a medicinal sense,” the cleric explained to Áine, lowering her voice and adding, “he was worried about accidentally hurting you, which was quite sweet.”

“That’s enough of that!” Astarion was grousing, but he fell silent as his eyes caught on Áine’s face. Her wide chocolate eyes shone with an appreciative tenderness, her free hand subconsciously hovering over where her heart beat and signaling just how touched she was by the whole thing. 

Áine suddenly blushed harder than he had and turned her gaze to the path beneath their feet to try hiding it, processing the strong reaction she’d had to learning he’d laid his pride at Shadowheart’s feet to ask the cleric for something…to help her. It was such a small thing, but it wouldn’t have felt like a small thing to him to ask for someone’s assistance, and knowing he’d done so despite that because he wanted to make sure she was okay made her positively melt.

Bewildered, Astarion looked over Áine’s bowed head to Shadowheart, who was already looking at him. She gave him a smug look as soon as they made eye contact, but it wasn’t the sort of smug look she’d shot him before. This was a smug look one might give a teammate after a strategic move in a game bore success. 

Shadowheart mouthed, “You’re welcome,” to him and smoothed her features just as Áine looked at her again, the flustered bard none the wiser.

Astarion was fascinated by several aspects of what had just happened. The most of which concerned Áine’s reaction to hearing what he’d first thought to be simply embarrassing on his part and also the fact that Shadowheart had just helped him continue to endear himself to her. Even while Áine was faced away and chatting with the cleric, he could still see the dark flush of her skin decorating her neck—especially around the bitemarks he’d left her last night—and on the tips of her ears.

Gods, he was doomed. The entirety of him was coming undone by sentiments he hadn’t even known he was capable of. It hardly seemed fair. To either of them really. After all, at the end of this, if she even gave him the time of day after she realized the only thing she would get with him was baggage. He was a tangle of trauma steeped in shame, his every touch with tainted intention from a body that he’d lost ownership over long ago, he was just a boy who amounted to nothing—

Astarion’s jaw flexed as Cazador’s voice clawed to the surface unbidden in his mind. His teeth gnashed tightly together, a dull pain forming in the grooves. Phantom pains ghosted across his back in the imagined pattern of his scars, his memories of how deeply and how many times Cazador had carved in those lines his only reference to what they looked like. He’d never known, so he didn’t know why it was bothering him now. Perhaps because this was the first time he’d gazed upon his own flesh and had been able to tell himself that it belonged to him, not Cazador, in the better part of two centuries.

“Why is the poem in Infernal?” Áine had asked the morning after their first little tryst in the woods. His stomach fluttered faintly at the extra memories that thinking back to that night evoked. Those feelings, what he’d experienced that night, were all another aspect of this that he needed to try to better understand. 

First and foremost, though, he had a duty to himself and he needed to find a way to better understand what he still carried with him from his old master. And if it was indeed Infernal and perhaps wasn’t even a poem at all, then…

What exactly had that monster done to him in the end? 

They all managed to retrace their stale steps back to where they’d first begun to crest the mountain path before setting up camp became the priority. A small clearing just uphill from the stone archway marking where they’d begun this leg of their journey made for an acceptable campsite and, within the hour, they’d established their temporary abodes and begun their nightly routines.

Áine had taken an armful of laundry to a nearby spring, carefully scrubbing out dirt, grime, and blood from her and her companions’ clothes. The bard still carried a tiny sense of embarrassment for how hard Shadowheart’s earlier divulgence about Astarion seeking medical advice for her bad shoulder had hit her. Feeling her face warm again, she scrubbed a bloodstain from one of her shirts with renewed fervor.

It was just…sweet. She felt seen. She felt cared for by both of them, but something about his effort to not only help her but let down his walls a little to learn how to best help her was a heady thing to take in. 

Áine adjusted the mint leaf she was fiddling with in her mouth with a careful prod of her tongue. She sighed, defeated by her own too-loud heartstrings. “You poor sweet thing… Are you in love with me yet?” Astarion’s voice drifted through her mind, the memory even holding the faint echo of the ruined temple’s acoustics. She’d not answered him then and she wouldn’t answer him now if he asked again, but she was starting to grow concerned that she didn’t even need to answer for the truth to be discovered.

It was his fault for being so damnably easy to love. Even as much as he tried to hold himself back, cement that awful little rake mask to his honest, beautifully open face that could rend her heart in half at a moment’s notice, and skirt the hard topics with playful smirks and coy banter, she either enjoyed their dance or succeeded in seeing through it.

Last night there had hardly been any dancing around each other at all. At least, for a while.

After they’d successfully used their tadpoles to connect their minds and she’d been able to show him what he looked like, both as a mirror would and also through her own eyes after he’d asked, she’d refocused to see tears streaming from his eyes. And before she could check on him, before she could apologize for any of it being too much too soon, he’d kissed her hard. Desperately, hungrily, passionately. Before she’d had time to react at all, she was on her back and he was all she could feel, his hands on her body and in her hair, his tongue in her mouth, his tears occasionally hitting her cheeks like faint, icy pinpricks.

Áine blushed anew and one of her hands raised to brush her spring-cooled fingertips against the fresh bitemarks in her neck, a shiver running through her that had little to do with the chill of her skin. 

Up until last night, their coupling had felt careful, and controlled at times too. Their first time had held moments of released inhibition on his part, the height of it when he’d so beautifully come apart in her arms, but she had meant it when she’d asked him the next morning if he’d been all there. If he was alright. The night after had felt even more careful, but it had been sweeter and more romantic, and she’d taken it to be because she’d been upset not long before and he’d intentionally taken things more slowly.

And then there’d been last night. When the only thing he’d done “carefully” was position one of his arms around her back in a way that stabilized her shoulder while he’d railed her within an inch of her life, his fangs deep in her neck as he’d repeatedly buried himself inside her. 

Her face reddened at the memory alone. It’d been all she could do not to wake the damn camp and based on the way he’d needed to stifle the occasional grunt, growl, or groan against her neck or her lips, she could only assume he’d run into a similar dilemma. A faint, smug smile tugged at her mouth. He was still cautious with what he let her do, but she looked forward to discovering all of his most secret, sensitive little spots.

Her smile faded a little as she plunged the shirt she was working on back into the cold mountain water, thinking that she also looked forward to getting him a little more used to the idea of aftercare. Not even necessarily for her—it was something she wanted to do for him, another way she wanted to convey that she cared about him. She’d so far just seemed to confuse him with her affections out of bed.

Áine’s first real attempt—given that he’d managed to exquisitely exhaust her the first night they’d spent together and on the second she’d excused herself after a while because she overthought the fact that he’d seen her cry—had been last night. Astarion had all but collapsed atop her after they’d finished and she’d been more than content to gather him close, her legs still wrapped around his hips and her arms following suit as she’d pressed a kiss to his temple. Áine had felt him start to lean into her, but he’d suddenly stiffened and cleared his throat as he reached back to slide her ankles off his backside.

“Something wrong?” she’d asked, letting her arms loosen so he could lean away if he wanted to. She wanted him to stay or to at least rest a moment and bask in the afterglow a bit, but she also didn’t want him to stay if he preferred not to. And it had seemed at first that he simply wasn’t the sort that enjoyed a bit of pillow talk and snuggling after the main event. However, she’d thought back to how foreign handholding had seemed to him on that first-morning walk back to their camp and Áine had started to wonder if this was all just new for him too.

“Not at all,” Astarion had responded and he’d been just a touch too slow to hide the longing look in his eyes. She’d mentally latched to it like a fish to a hook, deciding that he could tell her the moment her little attempts at extra affection got annoying or unwanted and, until then, she’d simply try as the mood struck her. Maybe he’d think she was odd, but then again maybe he wouldn’t. “Simply allowing us both to get some rest after…that.” He’d looked embarrassed as he added, “Apologies for being a bit sloppy.”

Áine had cocked her head. “Passionate, you mean?” she’d corrected him. “Don’t be.” He was already pulling his pants back on and had just chuckled at her words. She’d hesitated, afraid of seeming needy, and said, “...You can stay, you know.”

Astarion’s hands had stilled on his shirt as if he’d been briefly considering it before he shuffled the garment back on. “I’m afraid if I do I’ll be unable to keep my hands off you, darling,” he’d replied, but she’d sensed that this was simply a way to dodge her offer. 

She’d let it go, kissing him goodnight when he’d turned to capture her lips one more time, and watched him leave with a sting of disappointment as she went about cleaning herself up and properly readying herself for bed.

Now, gathering up the washed clothes in her arms, Áine let out a sigh. Until he informed her that he abhorred the idea of post-coital cuddles, he’d be getting them from now on. She wanted them and she just had this nagging feeling that he simply didn’t know what he was missing and she’d be more than happy to show him. 

It was almost comical to her how the importance of getting an illithid tadpole out of her brain felt on par with the importance of ensuring that, even if it ended up irritating him, Astarion understood he was someone who was cherished. She was an utter fool, but, as she’d said more than once in her life, she’d never professed to be smart.

Áine congratulated herself upon her return to camp for setting up her makeshift clothesline ahead of time before she’d done the washing, making the task of hanging the clothes a more straightforward one. She’d hardly started when Wyll joined her and held his hands out to relieve her of the wet garments. “Thank you, but I can—,” she started to say, but faltered when she saw his wary expression. “What’s the matter?”

“Leave these to me,” he said, removing the load from her arms as he added, “You may want to check on Astarion. I heard him muttering in his tent and tried to ask after him, but he barked me away before I could get a word in edgewise.”

Áine’s brows rose. “Oh… I wonder what that could be about,” she mumbled, noticing as she looked toward Astarion’s tent that Halsin was fireside tonight managing supper. “Where’s Gale?”

Wyll shrugged as he hung the laundry. “Couldn’t tell you,” he admitted. “He’s still not himself. He seems to be getting better and then he’s just…not quite Gale again. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he isn’t there yet, I don’t think. Though who could be after a salutation like Mystra’s?”

Áine grumbled at the mention of her name. “Who could, indeed.” She sighed. “I might try talking to him. Later, after I see what Astarion’s up to… I need to start a list.”

Wyll chuckled, but his expression remained troubled. “You think you’re ready to talk to Gale?” he asked. “At length, I mean. After yesterday.”

“I’m feeling more comfortable about the idea if that’s what you’re asking,” she replied. “I just need to catch him in a ‘Gale’ moment rather than a ‘not quite Gale’ moment, I suppose. But I think waiting too long will do more harm than good.”

“I think you might be right,” Wyll agreed. “Good luck. With, well, all of it.”

Áine laughed softly and patted his shoulder. “Thank you, my friend,” she said as she began the short trek to Astarion’s tent. She passed out hellos to anyone she passed by, including Halsin and Karlach who were stooped over the fire, Karlach seeming to be less of an assistant and more of a student under Halsin’s patient instruction. 

As she drew nearer to the familiar wine-red canvas structure, her ears honed in on her lover’s voice just past the half-parted entrance. His tone sounded stressed, anxious, and almost a little sad.

“A line with a fork and…one…two…three dots?” Astarion was mumbling to himself, his fingertips tracing the base of his back and traveling as high as he could physically reach behind him. A twinge in his muscles made him jolt faintly and swear. “Bloody Infernal… How is anyone meant to read this garbage?”

Figuring he’d already heard her approach, Áine leaned in to peek through the open part of his tent door, finding him cross-legged on the floor with his shirt off and his arms wound behind him. “What are you up to, handsome?” she asked.

Managing what she’d thought next to impossible, Áine realized she’d startled him. “Ah!” he gasped. With kneejerk agitation, he asked, “Wh-What are you doing?!”

Áine flushed with chagrin and quickly said, “Sorry, sorry! I’ll go,” as she turned to duck out from under the opening in the canvas.

“No, no, wait…,” Astarion said hastily and when Áine turned to look back at him, she found one of his hands outstretched in front of him as if to guide her back. He sighed and let the hand rest against his knee. “I’m sorry. You caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

“I should’ve found a way to knock,” Áine suggested, but she was appreciative of how quick he’d been to apologize for his snap. “Everything okay?”

Astarion paused, trying to find his words. “I’ve…been tracing the scars on my back with my fingers, trying to read them by touch, but…,” he sighed and it was a sound of pure frustration. “I can’t. They may as well be written in Rashemi.”

Áine’s heart gave a sympathetic pang. “Would you like me to take another look?” she offered.

“I…,” Astarion hesitated again. Briskly, he said, “This isn’t your problem, you know.” Áine gave a quiet snort in response but said nothing as she waited for him to decide for himself. At last, Astarion’s pride buckled and he murmured, “...Fine.”

Áine entered his tent and knelt as Astarion shifted to turn his back to her. “If you intend to touch them,” he said uneasily, “would you tell me before you do?”

The bard smiled and gave his arm a gentle pat. “I would, but I won’t touch them.”

At his nod, Áine began to study the marks, subconsciously tilting her head as if it could somehow help her read the language she was hardly at all familiar with. She hummed under her breath, contemplating showing him the markings by using the tadpole again, but she knew that she’d taxed it plenty the night before to show him his face and it wouldn’t be wise to use it again so soon.

Agitated by the silence, Astarion prompted her. “And? What can you see?”

Áine sighed. “I’m honestly not sure. But maybe I could draw it for you?”

Astarion glanced toward his books and loot all lumped in a small pile at the corner of his tent. “I haven’t any ink or parchment,” he said, audibly tense.

“No need,” Áine mumbled, already tracing the markings she saw on a smaller scale into the dirt beside his bedroll. He was careful not to turn fully to look at what she worked on, reminding himself that the longer he let her study his scars, the sooner he’d get to see for himself. Still, he found himself fidgeting impatiently as he listened to the meticulous scratching of her fingertip piercing the ground. Silence stretched for a moment as Áine compared his scars with her rendition one more time. “I’m done, I think.”

Astarion turned to look at what she’d drawn, dread pooling like bile in his stomach. “What in the Hells…,” he mumbled, his brows forming a deep crease between them. She was right—it was most certainly Infernal, but…why? “What did he do to me?”

Áine pursed her lips, rubbing the dirt from her fingers. “It’s an…odd poem,” she murmured, although she wasn’t convinced the line he’d been fed about what these lines meant was the truth either.

He seemed to agree. “If it’s a poem at all…,” Astarion said, his hand resting across his mouth. A sigh eased past his lips and Áine looked up from the drawing to his face, seeing something unreadable there. “Two centuries carrying this, and I can finally see it.”

Gods, she wanted to help him, she just didn’t know how. Áine suggested, “Maybe Karlach could read it?”

“Perhaps, but… Let’s just keep this between us for now,” he said, his jaw setting. Asking for her help, despite it being her, had taken enough out of him for the day in the way of depending upon other people. He disliked the idea of being studied like a test subject by the larger group. Astarion’s eyes finally met hers as he added, “Thank you, by the way. This is…well, it’s something.”

“Anytime,” Áine murmured, feeling his conflict like it was her own. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Astarion smirked. “Will we now? How…,” he paused, metering his negative outlook with his next words. Or word, rather. “…sweet.” 

Áine smiled, raising her hand to trace her fingertips across his cheek. “‘Sweet’ from me isn’t on offer for just anyone,” she commented, earning a snort from Astarion. “What?”

“You are by and large one of the kindest people this wretched world has to its name,” he informed her, turning his head toward her hand while maintaining eye contact with her. He breathed deeply at the pulse point on her wrist. “The fact that you seem to think that’s not the case is laughable.”

“Kind is different than sweet,” Áine declared in a soft voice, her eyes dipping to trace his lips as she leaned closer to him. “My ‘sweetness’ stocks are smaller and on a more exclusive reserve.”

Astarion still wasn’t accustomed to being the one flirted with, especially by someone who could so easily set his silent chest aflame, but gods he loved it when she looked at him like that. “From what I’ve tasted of you, you’re plenty sweet, my love,” he murmured. He leaned in to meet her halfway, brushing his nose against hers and savoring the feel of her warm breath against his lips. “However, I think what you might be getting at is that I’m,” he gave a soft theatrical gasp, “special?”

Áine grinned, skimming her fingertips up from his cheek to run through his curls. “Very special,” she murmured. She loved the little way he nudged their noses together, she realized. It was cute, but it had also been the first little gesture from him that had felt natural, like him and not just like a seduction tip from a paperback romance novel. She savored all his gestures now, even the more practiced ones because at least she now knew that he felt something for her. Áine wasn’t so sure that he was pleased about that, but she’d enjoy it however long it lasted.

The scrape of steel and Lae’zel’s voice raising outside caused Áine to look away from Astarion, frowning as she angled her head to try and see what was going on outside. Astarion huffed and leaned further in, kissing up her neck in an endeavor to reclaim her focus. Áine was amused by his persistence but started to worry that another spat was brewing between Lae’zel and Shadowheart or that they were on the precipice of being attacked. “What’s going on?” she murmured, starting to get up.

“I don’t know, darling, pay attention to me,” Astarion grumbled against her throat, making her laugh. “If they’re all dead when I let you leave in, say, a few hours, we’ll furnish that cryptic old mummy with a bit of gold and buy them back in installments.”

“He referred to you as my ‘bosom-companion’ the other day, you know,” Áine informed him, looking back at him to gauge his reaction.

Astarion arched a brow up at her and remarked, “Far be it from me to disappoint,” before he pulled her to him and buried his face against her breasts. 

She left him laughing at the shriek of surprise he’d managed to draw from her, ruffling a hand through his pomaded hair to get back at him as she ducked out of his tent. 

Fixing her neckline, Áine glanced toward Lae’zel’s tent and saw…Kith’rak Voss? He was kneeling in submission with his sword set across the ground in front of him and speaking to Lae’zel and Wyll, it seemed, who was helping to play mediator. When she caught Wyll’s eye, Áine glanced meaningfully between him and the two githyanki, wondering if he needed her to step in. Wyll nodded once back to reassure her that he had it under control before he turned his attention back to something Voss was saying.

Áine relaxed at that, mentally performing a headcount around the camp now that night had thoroughly fallen. 

Karlach lingered near the conversation taking place, her gaze shifting occasionally toward Lae’zel with some measure of concern. The githyanki warrior had remained understandably fragile in spirit since all that happened at the crèche and ‘Mama K’ was defaulting to overprotective of her friends, even as her engine roared to an all-time high.

Halsin had retired to his tent and looked as though he was reading a tome that looked like a pamphlet in his large hands, his scarred brow furrowed in concentration as his eyes scoured the pages. He only occasionally paused to have a bite of his quickly cooling dinner sitting beside him when he remembered it was there. She recalled him mentioning that he’d missed reading and was glad to see he’d already found something to pick up on the road.

Shadowheart was nowhere to be seen, but Áine soon gathered that she’d retired early when she noticed thin spindling threads of smoke making their way out of her nearby tent, born from some incense she’d been pleased to find on their way from the temple grounds.

Áine’s thoughts turned to Gale and she sighed, knowing she needed to go find him. He’d been gone for hours at this point, ever since they’d set up camp, and as much as she wanted to just turn around and fall back into bed with Astarion, they needed to talk and smooth some things over. With a resigned sigh, she trudged away from her lover’s tent and toward the edge of camp to start scouting for their missing wizard.

It didn’t take her too long to find him. Gale had found himself a small clearing to settle into and looked almost peaceful to Áine as she approached. However, there was still something very off about his demeanor, the way he held himself, even seated in the grass. 

Not wanting to scare him, Áine announced her presence. “Gale?”

Gale turned his head at hearing his name, seeming dazed. “Oh. Hello,” he said, clearly surprised to see her. “Brave of you to venture so close.”

Áine sighed. “Come off it,” she murmured, sitting down next to him. The mountain foliage around them offered a crisp, pleasant smell amplified by the cool night air. She breathed deeply of it to ground herself. 

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Gale agreed, his eyes tracing the leaves making up the canopy. “It’s the little things. Even in as much as we’ve weathered thus far.”

Áine nodded. “They’re what get us by in the end, it’s true,” she agreed. She looked at him, frowning. “Gale, I owe you an apology, I think.” And you owe me one, too, but I can only own up to my own shit, she added mentally.

“I suppose it is indeed time we dealt with the hollyphant in the room,” he said, his tone terse. “I’m listening.”

Áine’s pride flared, but she tempered the burst of incredulous anger in her chest and continued. “I stand by why I was upset,” she said candidly. “However, I reacted before I heard the whole of what Elminster said. And now knowing what the whole of his visit was about, that feels unfair of me to have done.”

“An audience with Elminster is never less than memorable,” Gale mused. “You reacted how I would have expected you to, all said. You can hardly be faulted for feeling betrayed just because you pity me now.” He sighed. “I couldn’t find a way to tell you. To tell any of the others. That was my mistake and I should have shoved my fears aside the moment I realized that absorbing the power from the magical items you provided me was no longer working.”

“What exactly is it?” Áine asked, her eyes moving over the marking across the center of his chest, its tendrils that wove up toward his eye. She’d always just thought it was a tattoo, but was it the result of the orb too?

“That’s a rather long and complicated story…,” Gale sighed, unsteadily turning toward her. “It would be easier for me, in this moment, to show you.” Áine met his eyes with confusion and he said, “Place your hand over my heart.”

Hesitantly, Áine raised her hand and let it hover over his chest where the perfect circle marked into his skin resided in the vee of his robe. Purple light flooded the space between her palm and his chest and her tadpole shivered in recognition as Gale used his own parasite to let her into his very existence.

Into the dark.

Áine’s body seized as her eyes filled with Gale’s memory—a dread vision of a hallway, a book bound, and then opened, and a horrible remnant unearthed. The book holds nothing but swirling energy, the blackest threads of the Weave that lie in deadly wait. They hurl themselves at Gale—and now at Áine too through his eyes—and shred through the layers that make him, seeking to unmake him in mind and magic if it means a tender meal. And gods is it ever hungry.        

< Beginning of non-con content warning >

Losing herself in the memory, feeling his soul wrenching in her very being as if it were her own, Áine fearfully tried to draw her hand back only to find Gale’s hands grasping hers, his grip turning painful when she tried to pull away. His fingers crushed hers like the dark Weave crushed his spirits, its claws and its teeth scraping still at the base of his heart. Even dormant, it struggles to wake, seeks to feed…

Áine succeeded at last in wrestling back her hand, clutching it against her chest as she stretched her aching fingers. “Gods above,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Please,” Gale pleaded with her in a whisper. His eyes still looked half-fogged from the vision and as he came closer and closer, Áine caught a pungent scent of wine on his breath. She realized that a faint glint that she’d seen just past him on the grass when she’d arrived had been moonlight catching on the curve of an empty wine bottle. No, two… No, three empty bottles. He reeked of it. “Áine, please don’t leave me there alone.”

“Gale, you’re not there now,” Áine asserted, leaning away and balancing against her hands. She was starting to get nervous. Gale was drunk and seemed utterly lost in his own dark memories. She’d been in scenarios like this before with faces long faded within her past and she felt the familiar constriction in her chest, the sensation wrapping against her heart and lungs even as they began to work in overtime. “Gale, st—”

But he didn’t stop encroaching. The whiskers of his beard scratched her face and the scent of alcohol stung her nose when he put his mouth on hers, her protest swallowed and silenced. Áine grappled with him, one of her arms pressed against his chest to fend him off while her other arm stayed propped behind her. “Please, Áine, a chance,” he mumbled, his words slurring. “Just one chance before my world upends…” 

She gave a muffled yelp of protest against his lips, tears stinging her eyes as she was finally able to at least wrench her head sideways. Áine tried to push him off, but he was bigger than she was and her paladin strength of old—the strength that had gotten her out of these many similar situations her mind called back to her now—was long gone, a broken oath ringing hollow. She just had herself, her own body, to rely on now.

“Gale, get off me or I’ll scream,” she gritted with panic rising in her voice, squirming away from his hands fumbling to hold her in place. He was too close for her to swing at him and, even as she had the passing thought, she felt her shoulder flare again under their weight. Her arm, the last thing keeping her upright, buckled underneath her with her old injuries’ betrayal, sending them both into the dirt.

When he put his greedy mouth on hers again, his heavier body pinning hers down, she bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. That was enough to shock him and make him lean back. “You little—”

Áine tried to use the space he’d added between them to push herself up and shove him away, but her shoulder stayed locked up and she only succeeded in flailing a little. She struggled to get her pinned legs out from under his knees, knowing if she could manage that she’d be able to kick him and get away.

Just a little more, she urged herself, her right leg in a painful position but almost free and mobile again.

But suddenly Gale was no longer on top of her to struggle against.

< End of non-con content warning >

Áine remained sprawled on the grass in a mixed state of shock. She was sure she hadn’t imagined the whole thing out of some horribly lucid trauma response, but she had trouble putting two and two together until the wizard was slammed back down onto the dirt nearby by a very angry vampire.

The bard turned onto her stomach, shifting her shaking knees beneath her and trying to control her panicked breathing. A flash of silver caught her eye as a dagger pressed to Gale’s throat and her panic blossomed anew but, with it, an urgent clarity. “Astarion, hold on!” she choked.

Astarion looked every part the terrifying image of a vampire that most people held as their source of truth for the creatures. His eyes blazed crimson, aglow in the shadows blanketing them here, and his lips curled back from his fangs with a viciousness she’d never seen in him before.

He half-spat in bewilderment at her plea, his words coming out in a near-animalistic growl. “You would defend him?!”

Áine forced enough air into her hyperventilating lungs to respond, “I’m not keen to get blown up and…he’s very drunk… He’s not himself…” She was barely staving off the panic threatening to overtake her, the reactive onslaught coming now that she was no longer in immediate danger. But Gale was.

Astarion sneered down at Gale, his fingers flexing against the hilt of his dagger. “Then I’ll ask you, Gale, which will you miss more?” he wondered, his voice deadly pleasant. “Will you miss your eyes most? Or perhaps your balls?” His eyes flashed as he bore down on the prone wizard too fearful or too dazed to move. “Because I will be taking something from you this night.”

He had felt rage like this in his lifetime. Plenty. He knew it intimately. But he’d never felt it flare so violently for someone else. He’d checked Áine’s tent for her after he’d not spotted her amongst the group seeing off Voss and had taken it upon himself to follow her scent out of camp. 

Assuming he’d either find her in a little spot they could make into another of their pieces of “nowhere” or off scouting ahead for their best path forward, he’d been mildly surprised to catch Gale’s scent, staler than hers, on the same trail. Perhaps they were finally smoothing some things over. And, upon seeing them in a darkened tangle in the grass, he could admit that he’d first thought that “smoothing things over” had led to some sort of realization on her part. He’d even started to brace himself to go back to camp and wait for her to return and tell him they were done.

Then he’d smelled Gale’s blood. He’d heard him when he’d started to swear at her or say whatever it was that he’d cut off from saying. And then the palpable smell of Áine’s fear had hit Astarion’s nose, punctuated by a tiny yelp of pain when she’d hurt herself in her struggle to get away from Gale.

And without another thought, Astarion had rushed them like a man possessed, his entrance silent until he’d ripped Gale off her by the back of his robe and hurled him into the ground hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs. And there they were still while Astarion debated the wizard’s fate from a place of pure, unbridled anger, where only one thing could still permeate his red-tinted tunnel vision.

“Astarion, please,” Áine breathed raggedly. “It’s not worth it, just leave him!”

“It’s ‘not worth it’, is it?” he snarled. His addled mind translated Áine’s words to mean that she thought she wasn’t worth his ire and, bleeding Hells, was she ever wrong. “In what sense?”

Áine floundered for something, anything to dissuade him from the wizard pinned beneath him. And she could only come up with one thing. The truth.

She inhaled and her breath shook as much as her voice as she said, “Because I need you more than he does right now.”

It worked. Astarion hesitated, his eyes briefly flickering toward Áine on the ground and losing some of their blind wrath. He clenched his teeth and forced himself to steady as he regarded Gale. She was right about one thing—he reeked of wine and self-pity. 

Astarion growled low, but flicked his dagger away from Gale’s throat, sheathing it. Partway through standing, Astarion drew his fist back with inhuman speed and punched Gale once hard across his face. The wizard groaned, his hands going instinctively to cup where he’d been hit.

Astarion’s voice was all velvet and steel as he spoke down to Gale with a gesture toward Áine. “Thank her for being the sole reason you’ll walk from these woods tonight,” he ordered in a barely controlled snarl. When Gale didn’t immediately speak, Astarion roughly turned Gale’s head with the toe of his boot to face the bard. “Thank. Her.”

Gale’s nose was dripping red, a welt forming already under his eye at the apple of his cheek. Áine’s eyes were round with shock as she met his eyes and, wetly through a thin stream of tears and blood, he said, “...Thank you…”

“Very good,” Astarion muttered with venom, removing his boot from Gale’s cheek. “Now don’t speak to her again unless or until she permits it.”

The vampire stepped over the bloodied wizard and silently walked to his bard. He said nothing as he knelt, gathered her close, and plucked her off the grass, carrying her back to camp. He stayed silent when curious questions rose around them from their still-awake companions, ignoring them all. 

Áine found herself almost afraid to break the silence between them, but she didn’t have to as he gritted through his fangs, “Would you like me to take you to your tent?”

She swallowed hard and shook her head. “N-No.”

“Good,” he growled, his arms tightening around her as he ducked down and took her with him into his.

Next chapter: Chapter 15, "Their Jagged Edges"

#angst with a happy ending #astarion x oc #astarion x female oc #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #tav #astarion acunin #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #astarion romance #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 astarion #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #baldur's gate #baldurs gate iii #bg3 tav #tavstarion #unbound fic #spawn astarion

[fantasygerard2000]

Magnifico Almighty

There's this discourse in Wish that gets some viewers riled up, in which is that Magnifico has a point and that he's the real hero of the story. I am generally against this, largely because I'm just indifferent about the "villains doing bad thing for good reasons" shtick that has gotten old after overstaying its welcome since Thanos stank up the villain writing department, and in some cases some of the people who state that are totally not racially motivated.

With the case of Magnifico having a point that not all wishes should be granted, it would've prove he has a point, if the movie actually showed us an example.

That's the thing, the movie never presents an example of a bad wish and all people got is Magnifico's word for it.

In context, Magnifico doesn't want to grant Asha's grandfather's wish because and in his words "it's too vague". It's this vagueness that people run with and easily conclude with assumptions that he is correct in some way that generally doesn't prove he had a point. He sites that Sabino wants to inspire the next generation, which he concludes would lead to a rebellion that will destroy Rosas. However, with further context that Magnifico selfish tyrant, in his view, Sabino would inspire his own subjects to rebel against him, and therefore destroy not his kingdom, his rule as its king.

This discourse also ties in with how Asha is vilified and labeled selfish for wanting to grant all the wishes. The thing here is, she doesn't. She never said she wants all the wishes to be granted, she wants them returned. Asha was in agreement with Magnifico until he refuses to grant her grandfather's seemingly harmless wish on his 100th birthday, which she kindly asked him if he could consider and apologizes for. She is even in agreement with him that dangerous wishes can be stopped. Her point is that if Magnifico doesn't want to grant most if not all of the wishes, he could just return them and encourage the people to put in the effort to achieve their dreams themselves. If Magnifico was just as benevolent as people say he is, there wouldn't be a system of him hoarding there wishes in the first place.

Another contender is the comparison to the movie Bruce Almighty, to which is just a surface level comparison. In the film, Bruce is given God's powers but must also do God's job, which includes granting prayers. Taking the lazy route, Bruce nonchalantly says yes to the wishes which leads to the town going in chaos. However, this is the part where things get muddy. A lot of people use this moment in the film to compare Wish's nonexistent bad wish cautionary warning, but they either forget, missed or straight up omitting the other reasons why this happened. The town's biggest game winning which leads to fans rioting, everyone winning the lottery and because they all won, they have to split the money which gives them less than what they wanted, also causing a riot, and the asteroids Bruce recklessly cause causing people to believe the rapture is upon them.

In Wish, the wishes are returned to the people because they have the power to achieve them. The wishes are not just magical stuff that gives people wealth and power, they're goals and aspirations. With Magnifico taking away one's wish, including the memories of said wish, they're aimless and lose their ability to achieve a dream they cannot recall, and only need to rely on Magnifico to achieve said dream.

Comparing Bruce to Asha is just silly to me when Bruce is more comparable to Magnifico; both are given strong godlike powers with Magnifico wanting the masses to praised him as one; both are lazy and use said powers for their benefit. And the kicker is that Bruce learned to care for others and uses his powers to help them instead.

The consequences of the granted prayers is not on the citizens, it's Bruce's. And the consequences of Rosas not needing a system that selects few wishes to be granted is not Asha's, it's Magnifico's.

There's this line in Bruce Almighty said by God to Bruce which is perfectly applicable to Wish and how if you were to rewrite Wish that's not just yourself projecting into Asha to ship yourself with golden Jack Frost, make one about Magnifico becoming the benevolent king he wants to be.

"People want me to do everything for them, and what they don't realize is they have the power. You want to see a miracle, son? Be the miracle."

#disney wish #wish movie #wish 2023 #wish king magnifico #king magnifico #wish rewrite #magnifico #disney magnifico #bruce almighty

[123pixieaod]

pilot!Max x backpacker!Daniel 👨‍✈️✈️💼

Part 4!

Part 3 here

Daniel isn't here.

Max stands by the small cafe doors, eyes tracking over the largely empty tables. A retired couple, a family with two small kids, a group of teenagers.

No lone Australian traveler.

He swallows his disappointment, telling himself he was stupid to think it would be any different. Daniel had texted sounds good :) to Max’s suggestion of this cafe in a quiet corner of the airport, but hadn't offered a time, and Max hadn't wanted to sound needy by texting him again.

He had probably long left the airport. He was probably already on his way to some backpacking hostel filled with fabulously exciting and eccentric people, the little figure of Max growing smaller and smaller in his mind, diminishing to nothing. Maybe he'd waited for a few minutes, but Max had had to stay on board until everyone had disembarked, had had to write up a flight report with Sebastian and then go over the details with the F1 Wings liaison officer. Time slipped by. Daniel was long gone.

Max turns his back to the cafe, staring ahead at the mixture of people in the airport corridor. Waiting and shopping and eating, filling up their time as the departure board updates.

As a child, he remembers how much he adored visits to the airport. The newness of everything, the heavy sensation of excitement which settled over everything like a blanket. People in thick winter jackets sat beside families in shorts and holiday shirts. Liminal space. A purgory between the banal and the exceptional, everyday life and holidays.

Then, all the shit happened and airports stopped being a place of wonder. They stopped being places at all the Max. Just concepts, vague ideas of uncertainty. He tried his hardest to stop thinking about them at all. It worked until he was confronted with the prospect of airports becoming his new workplace, the beginning and end to virtually each one of his days.

He begins to walk. He changed out of his uniform as soon as they landed, and he feels invisible, a nothingness shaped man. It's nice. It's good to be forgotten, to be a nobody.

"Max!"

A hand clamps on his shoulder and suddenly he's being pulled into a tight, one-armed hug.

"I'm sorry," Daniel begins, taking a step back, the hug over before it's barely begin. "I don't have any luggage to collect and figured you would so had a quick wander around duty free and - you were going to leave without me?" He gives Max a teasing smile. Max barely breathes, can barely comprehend Daniel is a living, breathing thing in front of him. Tanned and gorgeous and rugged and perfect, exactly how Max had recorded him in his memories.

"Hey," he manages to get out, and then laughs, bashful. "I thought you were the one who had left."

"Me?" Daniel says, accent wonderful and buoyant. "I would never! Come on," he grins, leading Max back towards the cafe. "I'm starving."

Max stares at him. Dark curls and sharp bone structure and deep-set eyes of burnt honey and a smile which lights up his entire expression.

He nods, smiling back. "Me too."

-

"I looked for you," Daniel says, stirring his chai latte. Max smiles, the action feeling a natural response to Daniel's presence.

"Oh?"

Daniel nods, tapping his spoon lightly against the glass before leaving it on the saucer. The rose inked into his skin ripples with the action, petals blowing in an invisible breeze. "On the plane. When I went to the bathroom, I took the long route up and down both aisles, looking for you. Didn't see you, though."

Max huffs in soft amusement. "No, you wouldn't have. I was at the front."

Daniel raises his eyebrows, teasing. "First class? Are you a secret billionaire, is that why you insisted on paying for lunch too? Flaunting your money?"

"I'm not flaunting anything," Max says with a grin. He feels lightheaded, giddy. "I wasn't sitting in first class, just near the front. And anyway, I told you. My company pays expenses while I'm traveling."

Technically not a lie. Max gets a food and drink airport allowance with F1 Wings. Paying for the chai late and a sandwhich of a bohemian Australian traveller probably isn't in the smallprint though.

"Well," Daniel says, eyes crinkled with gentle amusement. "Please thank your mystery company for my lunch. I like airplane meals as much as the next man, but it's not the sort of grub known for keeping soul and body together."

"And," Max turns his head, reading the label of the discarded box. "Vegan cheese with jalapeños is?"

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it, right?" Daniel says, and then as if to prove a point, takes a big bite of the anaemic looking sandwhich.

Max makes a face. "I didn't take you for a vegan."

"Why, is it a crime if I am one?" Daniel says after swallowing, his tone between a reprimand and a tease.

"No, of course not," Max says, opening up his own sealed chicken Caesar salad. "I'm just surprised, is all."

"Well, your surprise is for good reason," Daniel replies, once more back to blithe happiness. "Because I'm not one. Not really. I like the idea of it, you know, animal welfare and all that. But," he waves his tattooed hand. Max stares, catching sight of the delicate rose inked onto his thumb. "It's hard being one, you know? Especially when travelling. I figured I'd just take it how it goes, and when I can eat vegan, do it, but not go crazy over it, you know? I mean, it also helps I'm lactose intolerant, God pretty much preprogrammed me to be some level of vegan," he laughs. The sound is light and musical, and Max can picture the notes rising, his laughter slipping out through the gaps in the windows and joining the plans as they take off. He's talking the same as how he did on the bus, chattering with the assumption Max will listen, but pausing, allowing Max to take up space in the conversation too. It's like a dance, and somehow, they've both learned the steps to each other years ago.

"Speaking of your mysterious company which it keeping me fed and water, what is it again you do? Stocks, right?" He asks, taking another big bite of the sandwhich.

Max shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about work right now."

"Why?"

He fakes a laugh. "Does anyone like to talk about their work?"

Daniel shrugs, swallowing. "I do."

"Then do it."

Daniel huffs a laugh. Max is beginning to realise he laughs a lot. And not like how Max does it either, carefully thought through and more often than not forced. Daniel laughs as if it's the only possible option, as if it's a physical thing untamed in his chest that has to be released.

"Are you always this argumentative?" He says. Max’s eyebrows rise.

"Am I being argumentative?" He asks, genuinely surprised.

"No, maybe that's the wrong word," Daniel tilts his head as he considers. "Maybe forceful? But without the negative conictations. Like -"

"Blunt," Max finishes for him. "People tell me I'm too blunt."

"No, not blunt. Like..." Daniel taps a finger against the plastic tabletop. "Compelling? Or dynamic? Like talking with you is so easy."

Max laughs. He can't help it. He doesn't think anyone has ever described talking with him as being "easy".

"What?" Daniel looks at him with a puzzled smile, and Max just shakes his head.

"Nothing, nothing. Tell me about your job then, if you're clearly so eager to talk about it."

"I'm not eager, I'm just -"

"Wait," Max interrupts him. He feels confident, brimming with something he hasn't felt since he was a child. "Let me guess."

Daniel grins, and then sits back, gesturing to himself. "Work away. I don't think it's that difficult, but-"

"No clues," Max says, studying him with a small frown. Khaki shorts and a dark windbreaker under a plain white t-shirt. Naturally tanned but with a warm complexion, skin used to the outdoors and the sun. Lean and fit, but not muscle bound or anything. Normal. Wildly attractive, and with a smile to say he knows it too. And tattoos. A shit ton of tattoos.

Tattoos on his hands and tattoos on his arms and even tattoos on his legs, and Max briefly imagines how many others are inked onto his skin, hidden from sight.

"I thought maybe English teacher first," he says. "TEFL, you know, and that's why you get to travel everywhere. But I don't think so with those tattoos."

Daniel holds up three fingers, and then dramatically flicks one down. Two guesses left.

"A reporter?" Max takes a shot in the dark. Daniel grins, dropping a second finger.

"A..." he waves his hand aimlessly. "A wanted fugitive on the run from interpol?"

Daniel widens his eyes dramatically. "How could you tell?"

Max tried to shrug as modestly as he can. "Not sure. I've been told I just have a gift."

"A gift for sniffing out fugitives? Are you like one of those dogs who smell drugs in the airport, only instead of drugs its A grade criminals? And that's why you get free lunches, as a thanks for keeping our airports safe?"

"Exactly," Max grins. "Worthy payment, I think you'll find."

"Keeping our skies safe in exchange for vegan cheese and jalapeños sandwiches, right?" Daniel grins.

"Exactly. You a Grade A fugitive and me a top rate criminal finder. Look at us, knowing each others deepest darkest secrets already."

Daniel laughs. Max grins back. He's beginning to realise it feels so good to be the person who gets to make Daniel laugh.

Part 5!

#pilot au #it's back! #the irony is they're both keeping a Big Secret from each other #their coffee date ran away with me and i had to split it into two parts! #max is giving abondonded dog who is finally learning how to play vibes #daniel is giving golden retriever vibes who bounds about and wants to make friends #maxiel #my fic #:)))