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justlemmeadoreyou · 5 months

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windfall | (mechanic!harry part2)

summary: part 2 to this

word count: 2k

warnings: cursing

masterlist | ask box(requests are open!)

As you walked away from the garage, frustration and annoyance built up within you. Harry's indifferent and grumpy attitude was not making this situation any easier. You considered finding another garage, but deep down, you knew that might not be a feasible option given the state of your car.

You didn’t even want to go to work today. Sleeping curled up in the backseat of the car had made your body sore, especially your back. But leaving work would mean staying at the garage all day, listening to scolds from Harry, and you didn’t want that either.

So, you decided to go to work.

Walking to the nearest bus stop, you managed to get a bus that dropped you off near your office, but you still would have to walk half a mile.

Great.

You reached the office after about an hour, completely disheveled and tired. You had gotten a bit sweaty too, that failed the purpose of taking a shower, and you were already in the need of another.

Walking in, the receptionist as well as the other few looked at you judgmentally, but you successfully managed to ignore them, too tired to start a conversation and explain your circumstances.

Walking to your worn-out leather chair, you threw your bag on the table, and slumped down on the chair. You looked at your computer, and then at the pile of files you had on your table, as well as the reports you had to finish working on, to get signed by Jake, your boss. You pouted; it was so much work for just one person. The worn-out chair creaked as you shifted, contemplating how to tackle the mountain of tasks in front of you.

Turning on the computer, you got up from your chair, and decided to go for a coffee run.

Turning the coffee machine on, and placing your cup below, you stared at the liquid pouring down as it gradually filled the cup. After a few moments, another person entered the room, and you looked over your shoulder.

Thankfully, it was your friend, Mia.

Mia was one of the very few girls in the office who worked at the same position as you, and you two had grown really close over the past 6 months, when she had driven you home one night from the bar, you had been really wasted and she was he only one sober. She had made you drink water, take a Tylenol, and tucked you in. She was so caring.

She walked with a smile up to you, proceeding to retrieve her own cup. She then came and stood next to you, while the machine was still filling up your cup.

“Morning.”

“Morning. You look tired. What happened?” she asked. You sighed and frowned, as all of the things that had happened in just the last 24 hours came rushing back, making you want to cry so bad.

“Yeah, I took the bus, and walked like, half a mile to reach here”

“Oh god. What about your car?”

“It totaled. And my apartment too, it’s gone. My landlord kicked me out.”

“Jesus, that’s awful. So you slept in your car?”

“Mhm” you removed your cup, and replaced it with hers. Taking a sip, you closed your eyes as it cascaded down your throat. You hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon, and the coffee gave you some energy to finish some of your work, till the afternoon at least.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” she frowned too, feeling sorry for you.

“It’s alright. Should have seen that coming. I mean, I spent so much money on the concert tickets last month, I almost went broke. I couldn’t even pay rent, and it was due since so many months”

“Still. That’s so bad. If you want, you can stay at mine for a few days. My roommate has gone for a trip and I think she’ll come back next week”

Your eyes brightened. She was such a gem. You immediately put your cup down, and hugged her.

“Thank you so much. So so much”

Rest of the day went by great. You were able to submit 5 reports, and completed most of the files and cleared them off your desk. You had finally managed to find a place to live, at least for the next few days, and you were sure you could figure something out till then.

Walking back to the garage, you had a cute smile on your face. The prospect of having a place to stay for the next few days infused you with a sense of relief, and not having to see Harry everyday was an added advantage.

Reaching the garage, you spotted your car and walked to it. There was someone down below, working on it. You decided to sit by for a bit, to find Harry and tell him about the new conditions. Surely, he will be glad to see less of you throughout the week.

You knocked the hood of the car, hoping the person below would listen.

He came sliding out, but he wasn’t Harry.

And he was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes, with brunette hair. He was wearing a tank-top, the shirt tied around his waist. There was a bit of grease here and there, but you didn’t mind.

“Yeah?”

You blinked and shook your head, bringing your eyes back up to his face.

“Uh-yeah. I was just-I came to ask that-Oh-this-this is my car. I wanted to ask, is there any progress?” you stumbled a bit around your words, but managed to blurt out at least an understandable sentence.

“Oh, yeah. I checked the engine and it was…well, in a bad condition. I will have to replace the air filters, check the exhaust and combustion, and the fuel too. Will have to replace the battery too”

He got up, cleaning his hands on a stray cloth.

“Oh. It’s not totaled yet, is it?”

“No, lord no. It’ll be much lower than that. How much did you buy this for?”

“About 35,000 dollars”

“Nope, this will be about 600 dollars.”

“Oh, thank god. I met, Harry? In the morning. And he scared me so bad. I felt that it was gone”

“No, he just likes to give hard time to everyone. I’m Niall, by the way” he extended his hand for a handshake, and you gladly did.

“Hi. I’m Y/N. And he really scared me so much.”

“Yeah, he just does that so people use their cars better. Or at least live in fear till the repair is done. “

You shook your head, and remembered that you had to pack up your stuff, since Mia, and the moving truck was going to be here soon.

“That’s so bad. Is he around?”

“Yeah, he’s in the back. I’ll call him.”

“Sure”

He went in and came back after a while, and Harry still had his nose scrunched up, and shoulders slumped, hands crossed in the front.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Oh-I wanted to tell you that-my friend, she offered me her apartment for a while, so for a week, I will be living with her. So I’ll take my stuff away and you can take my number, call me if it’s done.”

“Cool. But I don’t do calls. You’ll have to be come and check yourself”

“Don’t be a dick” Niall interrupted, “I can take your number. I’ll call you if it’s done early”

You smiled, and gave him your number. He promised to call you, and reassured you that he’ll do his best work on it. It made you feel a bit relaxed, and at ease. At least, everyone was not as rude as Harry. Soon, Mia came with her car and a truck, so you could move your stuff from your old apartment as soon as possible. There wasn’t much: a couch, two almirahs, your bed which had been dissembled, the mattress a TV, a refrigerator, an oven, kitchen utensils and an induction. Some other small appliances too, like the iron, straightener, etc, but that could fit in your bag.

After everything was loaded and your car was empty, you gave the keys to Niall, and picked up your bag, walking to Mia’s car and keeping it in the backseat. You went around and sat in the front, as she drove away to her place, the truck following behind.

The night was dark as Mia's car cruised through the quiet streets. You sat in the front seat, staring out of the window as the city lights blurred and headlights blinked. The stress of your car and the situation of next week, when her roommate would be back, still lingered on your shoulders. But, you were glad to have found a temporary refuge at her place.

Upon reaching Mia's place, you stepped out of the car. The air inside was cozy and inviting. Mia led the way, and you followed suit, hauling your heavy back awkwardly.

After moving your stuff to a corner, you both slumped down on the couch. The day had been tiring, but the welcoming aroma of her home made you feel at ease.

With Mia's help, you settled into the spare room she had graciously offered. It wasn't much, but it was a haven compared to the uncertainty of your car. You thanked Mia again, overwhelmed by her kindness, and assured her that you would find a more permanent solution soon.

The night unfolded with shared laughter, stories, and a home-cooked meal. Mia was a great cook, and you hadn’t tasted her food in so many months. You talked and laughed, and having dinner with a friend was so comforting. As the clock ticked away, fatigue set in, and you found solace in the softness of the spare bed.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, gently waking you from a restful sleep. You opened your bag and took out your toiletries, and laid out the clothes for the day. Brushing your teeth, freshening up and taking a bath, you felt so much better than you did yesterday.

As you sat on the dining table drinking coffee with Mia, your phone buzzed.

It was an unknown number.

Hey, it’s Niall

Your heartbeat increased in your chest. The gorgeous brunette had messaged you?!

You put the cup down, taking the phone down. Opening his chat, you quickly typed out a reply:

Hi, good morning, Niall :)

You didn’t respond to texts from unknown mechanics with a good morning message and a smile usually, but he was different. He treated you with so much kindness, and to be honest, you had a little crush on him.

His response was quick,

Morning, love. How you been? Sleep well?

Your heart fluttered at the endearment in his message. It was unexpected, especially considering your recent interactions with mechanics, particularly the grumpy Harry. Niall's tone was a stark contrast, and you couldn't help but smile at the screen.

Yeah, slept better knowing my car is in good hands. Thanks again for your help. And you?

you replied, genuinely interested in how his night had been.

Niall's response was swift,

Glad to hear that! I slept like a log, thanks. You off to work? Yeah. You? Already there. Was working on your car just before I texted Oh. Well…good luck, I guess??? Lol. Yeah, it's all in a day's work. Don't worry; I've got it covered. Your car will be up and running smoothly in no time. Thanks, Niall. I appreciate it. No worries, love. Call me if you need anything. Sure, thanks

You closed your phone, throwing it inside your bag, you walked out to the door with a huge smile on your face.

a/n: i tried writing it better!hoip

lovely divider by @cafekitsune

i hope you like this! please don't hate me

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requests and feedback is welcome and much appreciated!!

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hintsofhoney · 10 months

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Bad Moon Rising

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: The world's ending, and Dean has something to confess.

Square(s) Filled: free space for @anyfandomangstbingo

Tags: 16+, kinda fluffy, kinda angsty

Word Count: 492

A/N: I'm (semi) back! I had a baby, so writing has been on the backburner, but this was my first time dipping my toes in the water since I gave birth and I'm hoping it's the first step in getting over this postpartum writer's block. This was written for @deanwanddamons' rock flash fic challenge! The song I got was Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival, and whatever this is was born. GIF is mine. Enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

It’s been an hour, maybe two, since they accepted their fate. They don’t know exactly when the world is ending, but Cas thinks it’ll be within the next few hours or so.

Y/N needs to find Dean. Not because she thinks he’s found a way out of this mess — there is no way out — but because she loves him, and whether he knows that or not, she wants to spend her last moments on Earth next to him. She finds him right where she knew he’d be — sitting in Baby, in the bunker’s garage.

She walks over and opens the door, sliding into the passenger’s seat without saying a word. Dean’s staring out the windshield, his knuckles white from his grip on the steering wheel. He doesn’t move to look at her. He doesn’t say a word.

“Dean,” she whispers, placing her hand on his shoulder.

He lets out a long, shaky breath. “We can’t fix it this time.”

“‘fraid not,” she replies with a soft chuckle. Not because it’s funny, but because if she doesn’t laugh, she’ll cry.

“God dammit!” he shouts, hitting the center of the steering wheel, causing Baby to honk.

Y/N flinches, but keeps her hand on his shoulder.

Dean sighs and lets his head fall back, resting on the top of the seat as he fixes his eyes on the car’s ceiling.

“I thought we had more time,” he says, barely audible.

“Yeah, we all did,” she replies with a sad smile.

“No, I mean — I thought we had more time.”

She furrows her eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“Us, Y/N. This isn’t how I thought we were gonna go. I thought —”

He stops himself, but she so desperately needs to hear the rest.

“You thought what, Dean?”

He takes a deep breath. Fuck it. The world is ending, right?

“I thought I’d at least get to kiss you before I died. Tell you I’ve been in love with you for the past four years. Settle down one day. White picket fence. Maybe a dog. Get out of this life, start our own.”

He turns his head slightly, his green eyes searching her face for a reaction.

She’s stunned into silence, but then the silence turns to soft laughter, and she’s shaking her head in disbelief while she thinks about what to say.

She settles on, “I can’t believe you waited until the end of the world to tell me you’re in love with me.”

He shrugs and huffs a quiet laugh. “You know I don’t like talking about my feelings.”

She chuckles. “You’re better at it than me, ‘cause I was gonna take my feelings to the grave.”

There’s silence as he processes her reply. His eyes fill with hope as he realizes what she’s saying. “Wait. So you…?”

“Since I’ve known you, you idiot.”

He smiles like the world isn’t ending in a few hours. She kisses him like it is.

TAGLIST(S)

If you signed up for my taglist but don’t see your name below, it’s because Tumblr won’t let me tag you!

FOREVERS: @writercole // @makeadealwithdean // @slamminmine // @impala1967dwinchester // @wayward-dreamer // @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan // @deandreamernp // @kitkatd7 // @thewritersaddictions // @foxyjwls007 // @kyjey // @pizzagirlxoxo // @boeshaneboy // @babypink224221 // @stoneyggirl2 // @440mxs-wife // @sexyvixen7 // @samsgirl93 // @alwayssnivellus // @simpfoegeorge // @ajordan2020

SUPERNATURAL: @deans-baby-momma // @cookiechipdough // @roonyxx // @jassackles // @roseblue373 // @redbarn1995 // @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

DEAN WINCHESTER: @perpetualabsurdity // @lyarr24 // @siospins2 // @solarrexplosion // @rach5ive // @akshi8278 // @pink-sparkly-witch // @emoryhemsworth // @whore4romance // @themerc-with-a-mouth // @maggiegirl17 // @raajali3 // @adamgetawaydriver // @harleycao

You can join my taglist(s) here!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #deanwanddamonsrockflashfic3

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missywritesfor7 · 3 months

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❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist

Ch. 8: Caught in a Lie

Hyeri wakes up for what she thinks is the 5th time today with a throbbing headache. Her neck is sore from the whiplash the air bag caused and she’s starting to feel sore in other areas she hadn’t realized were hurt at first. She needs to get up to take another dose of medicine but she can’t find the strength.

When she was falling asleep behind the wheel, she was also accelerating. She hadn’t realized that she actually slept through two stoplights before she was going so fast that her car was going well above the speed limit. When her car hit the curb, she went flying into the stoplight pole at such a force that the pole was nearly knocked over and the front of her car was almost completely crushed in.

After her accident she blacked out a few times. She stayed in the hospital for two days until her parents could come up from Gwangju and take her home.

The accident left her with a mild concussion, bruises on her face, neck, shoulders, and chest, as well as cuts on her face and hands, a few requiring stitches. Her car is totaled but she’s glad she didn’t come out with any more serious injuries. She could have been discharged within 24 hours from the hospital, but she had no one to take her home. Her manager offered but she also needed someone to stay with her while she recovers at home. She opted to stay in the hospital longer and wait for her parents to come.

It worked out though, because tabloids followed her manager’s car thinking she went home with him the day she was discharged. By the time they realized she wasn’t with him, Hyeri had already quickly and quietly left with her parents.

Since then she’s been at home being cared for by her parents. They stay in the guest room they usually stay in when they come visit. They make sure Hyeri takes her medicines and she eats well. Her mother helps wash her and shampoo her hair, and her father makes sure she gets any and everything she needs whether it be a can of soup or a special edition neck massager with a few extra features than the one she already has.

She’d been wanting to talk to Yoongi or at least reach out, but she can’t bring herself to do so. Instead she continues following their tour as they make their way to London. Every appearance she can see that he’s not doing any better than when she watched their Las Vegas concert. If anything he looks worse now than before. She figures if she reaches out to him she’d only be distracting him as he said before, and that’s the last thing she wants to do.

But the sight of him is so heartbreaking.

Yoongi wanted to go straight to Seoul after hearing the news. He didn’t care about London or anything else, he just needed to get to Hyeri. The guys managed to talk him out of it because it was simply unreasonable for him to do without postponing their first show at least. Not to mention he and Hyeri are in some undefined relationship limbo and everyone was afraid that things may not go the way Yoongi wants if he suddenly showed up there.

When they arrived in London Yoongi spent any time not on a schedule in his room. He wanted to have one of his stashed drinks, but aside from his cash and Black card, his hidden bottles of liquor were also stolen. So he sat in his room sober and distraught.

He received a message from Hyeri’s mother letting him know that they took her home from the hospital. It seems they’re unaware of Yoongi and Hyeri’s complicated status right now. However, her mother mentioned that Hyeri wanted her to tell him that because she wasn’t able to get to her phone. Through it all, she still wanted him to know she was ok. She didn’t want him to worry. His mind is a mess and once again he finds himself buying bottles of alcohol and overindulging.

This isn’t quite like before. Before he wanted to be someone else so he wouldn’t feel the pain that comes with being himself. He wanted to do whatever he could just cause he could. He wanted to become someone who lived wild and free with no feelings about anything. Now he’s just drowning in those feelings he thought he could run from.

He doesn’t sneak out like he’d done before. He’s not looking for strangers to hook up with or bars he can spend a few hours in. He just stays in his room. Drinking and regretting so many things.

Why did he have to go so far overboard with his drinking? Would it be different if he had just answered her call? Why was she out so late on her own? For every question he has, he downs another drink. He could just reach out to her, but instead he’s too ashamed. Everything is fucked and he’s done a lot of things that don’t help the situation.

The guys are relieved that now they don’t seem to have to worry about Yoongi sneaking off to bars, but he’s still drinking just as much so they only feel a small bit of relief. They try to stay near him and monitor him, but they can’t do much when he closes himself up in his room alone.

Namjoon reached out to Hyeri to see how she’s doing. She tells him what happened during the accident and that her parents have been taking care of her. Then she immediately asks about Yoongi. He looked terrible in their last interview she watched and she knows he’s not ok. Namjoon admits to her that Yoongi hasn’t been doing well. He chooses not to mention the part about the blow jobs and robbery, but he tells her how he’s been struggling.

Namjoon encourages her to reach out to Yoongi again. He’s afraid Yoongi may not be strong enough to do it himself, especially since he’s drunk most of the time. At this point Namjoon and the rest of the guys are desperate to have Yoongi and Hyeri work things out so they don’t have to continue watching the heartbreaking deterioration of their brother. Hyeri isn’t sure she’d be able to say anything else to Yoongi. She can only try so much, but if he doesn’t want to talk to her while he’s on tour, what could she do?

Instead she remains in their shared apartment being cared for by her parents until Yoongi returns from tour. The thought of him coming home and being less than pleased to see her fills her with so much anxiety. She tries her hardest to think of something she could say to get him to talk to her. Something she could do to prove to him that she loves him more than anything and she only made a stupid mistake because she’s too scared and weak to speak up for herself.

Yoongi knew that they would still be on tour when Hyeri’s drama premieres so before he left home he had a delivery scheduled for the day of the premiere. Hyeri has been doing better since her accident, but those 2 weeks haven’t been enough for her to feel comfortable going out. So she sits at home and watches the cast and crew she spent so much time with arriving on the red carpet. She hates to miss the premiere for her first big role, but the only thing that hurts worse is Yoongi being in Japan and seemingly no closer to talking to her.

Yoongi can’t talk to anyone unless he has a contractual obligation to do so. Aside from that he closes himself off and continues drowning his sadness and despair in alcohol. He hates himself. He’s spent the entire tour hating himself for various reasons. Maybe she really does deserve Kihyun, or anyone else. Someone who isn’t such a fucking mess.

He was so upset with her. He blamed her for everything that plagued him during the tour. He wanted to spend that time resenting her because he felt it’s what she deserves after she’d hurt him. He resented her for not having the confidence to speak up for herself. He resented her for making him fall so deep in love that shit like this would hurt him so much. He resented her for not giving him the chance to erase her from his mind. He resented her for finally giving him the chance but getting into a car accident and thrusting herself back to the forefront of his brain. Now he resents her for having her name show up on his phone with a message.

Yoongi forgot all about the scheduled delivery he had set up. Hyeri had no idea he set it up before he left. She thought he had sent them as his way of saying he still cares although he’s still mad at her.

She took a picture of the extravagant bouquet of roses being carried by a large stuffed cat along with her favorite snacks and a gorgeous new designer purse then sent it to him thanking him and telling him she loves him and that once again she’s sorry for everything.

Yoongi groans at the message. This time he’s not upset about her contacting him when he last told her to stop fucking him up on tour. He’s upset because he feels terribly guilty. She doesn’t know about any of the intimate encounters he had throughout the tour, but his heart hurts as if she did. He’s not mad that he forgot to cancel the delivery, he’s mad because now it makes him look like a good person. He finishes off his bottle of sake convinced that he’s definitely not a good person.

Hyeri thought Yoongi’s gift would mean he would talk to her again. But she’s gotten nothing. He didn’t respond to her message. She gave him a day thinking he’s maybe busy or tired. But still nothing. She tried to message him again but still silence.

She doesn’t get it. What does he want from her? She starts to slip into sadness again and all she wants is to be alone. Somehow she convinced her parents that she’ll be fine on her own now. Yoongi will be back soon so they can go back home. They were understandably hesitant but eventually gave in and left for Gwangju.

Hyeri was alone again and for some reason, very scared. Scared that she may lose Yoongi for good. She pours herself a glass of wine and scrolls her phone. She’d been so deeply depressed that she never took time to see what people thought of the first episode of her drama.

She should have known that would be a terrible idea. She feared seeing comments from people saying ugly and hateful things, but she didn’t expect most of the chatter surrounding the show to be about Kihyun being a bad boyfriend.

Somehow, it was brought up how Kihyun was still keeping his schedule, even going to the premiere, when he should have been with Hyeri since she’s still recovering from her car accident. More people chimed in and started putting together a timeline of everywhere Kihyun had been since her accident. People weren’t talking about the show, they were dragging Kihyun when he hadn’t done anything at all.

Her glass of wine turned into the entire bottle. That bottle turned to a second. Now she’s in tears watching low quality streams of the guys’ final show in Japan. Yoongi still looks terrible. Every time she sees him it’s worse than the last. Maybe he saw the comments about Kihyun. She knows that wouldn’t help anything if he had a reminder of her fake relationship thrown in his face.

“Fuck!” She cries fed up with it all. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

She’s wine drunk and so fucking fed up. She feels just as bad as he looks and she’s at her limit. Her heart is shattered and she feels she has nothing to lose anymore. Nothing but the love of her life.

She drunkenly taps out a message on her phone then passes out in bed fully clothed. She only asked herself what would Yoongi do, and so she did it. The wine has her head swimming so she doesn’t even care what happens next. She just wants her Yoongi back.

The guys did a group live to mark the almost end of their tour. They still have their final show in Seoul, but decided to do a group live now since they fear they may not be able to once they’re home. Plus, Yoongi has been clearly bothered by the recent talk about Kihyun.

Yoongi saw it all. He had a few extra drinks and drunkenly apologized to Kihyun for him being caught up in all this bullshit. Kihyun isn’t the bad boyfriend. In Yoongi’s eyes he’s the bad boyfriend. The bad, weak, most terrible boyfriend on the planet.

Yoongi couldn’t say no to the group live. He tried to stay present in the moment, but he frequently zoned out. At times he wasn’t sure what anyone was saying. He stayed quiet unless someone spoke to him. The live was so he’d stay sober and supervised, but he’s more irritated and sad instead.

The live doesn’t go long. In the end they all retreat to their rooms, with Jimin following Yoongi to his. Jimin saw Hyeri’s message, but he knows Yoongi hasn’t. He doesn’t want Yoongi to be alone when he sees it. He doesn’t know if he’ll have a positive or negative reaction, but either way he wants to be by his side.

Jimin chats with Yoongi a bit claiming that he just wants to hang out. He isn’t sure how to bring up the message naturally, so he hopes Yoongi looks at his phone to see for himself.

They have a drink together and chat some more before Yoongi finally looks at his phone. He checks a few missed calls and clears some emails. Out of habit, he looks at Instagram and the first thing he sees is a message posted on Hyeri’s account.

Hi everyone, this is Rainbow. I want to say that I’m very grateful for everyone who has sent well wishes during my time in recovery. It truly means a lot to me.

To repay your kindness I would like to be honest with you all about something that has been weighing heavy on me for a while in hopes that it causes no more pain for those I care about.

Yoo Kihyun is a wonderful person with a kind heart and incredible talent. He has become a great friend to me, but that’s all he ever has been. I’m sorry that you all were led to believe that Kihyun and I were engaged in a romantic relationship when we have only ever been friends. I have realized that my inaction has caused pain to some who were hurt by this lie, but I will do anything I can to make things right.

I’m sorry to all of my fans and I ask your forgiveness. I promise to work hard to be someone deserving of your love.

I’m resting well and can’t wait to see you all again. Please be healthy. I love you.

🌈Rainbow

Yoongi stares at his phone unsure of what he’s seeing. He reads the message a second time, then tries to determine what any of this means. He can’t be sure, but he feels like she was talking to him directly. Why did she do this now? Did she make this statement on her own? In one of the many ignored texts from her she did mention that she tried to get the company to tell the truth but they wanted to wait until after the show’s premiere. Is that why she’s doing this now?

“Hyung,” Jimin says softly. “For what it’s worth, everyone is saying she didn’t talk to JJS before posting that.”

“She didn’t?” Yoongi asks in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“I guess you could ask her when we get home tomorrow.”

Yoongi nods though he’s not sure he wants to go home at all. Reading her letter has done nothing but make him feel worse than he already does. He knows that couldn’t have been easy for her to do, and if she finally spoke up for herself, then all of the things he had done have just become a million times heavier. Despite wanting to run far away, he can’t do anything about their flight tomorrow that will see him returning home in the afternoon. Home to Hyeri.

Hyeri wakes up with a wine hangover and a ton of missed calls and messages. She thought it was all a dream, but looking at her phone proves it wasn’t. Kihyun is praising and thanking her for putting the truth out there. He also shared the notice he put on his account that confirmed everything she said and apologized again for misleading fans.

Her friends and family are proud of her, knowing this has all been taking a toll on her, although none of them know just how much her relationship with Yoongi has seemed to deteriorate. His family seems unaware as well when she reads the messages from them offering their support. It’s not until this moment that she remembers Yoongi will be home this afternoon.

What would he say when he comes home and sees her there? Will he be mad? Will he make her leave? Will he at least speak to her? Her mind is spinning with questions, but that becomes the least of her problems.

Her manager called to let her know that he was going to pick her up for an emergency meeting with the company. She wanted to get out of it. She tried to, but she had no choice. She washed up and left when her manager arrived ready to face the consequences of her drunken actions.

The meeting is held with Hyeri, her manager, the PR team for JJS, and someone from HR. She’s nervous and almost certain that she’s about to get dropped from her agency.

Her manager starts by reciting some bullshit company rules that she’s in no mood to listen to. He reminds her that she has to consult with them before putting out any statements to ensure everyone is on the same page. That pisses her off. They’ve done nothing but tell her what statements they were going to put out leaving her with no choice. That’s why she’s in this shit in the first place and that’s why she’s fed up.

“I can’t keep living a lie,” she says softly. “I told you guys what the truth was but you already made up your minds that you would keep rolling with this lie that you forced me and Kihyun into. Where is he anyway? Did you guys talk to him already?”

“We have a separate meeting scheduled with him,” the PR lead says.

“Why?” Hyeri’s voice rises a notch. “Why won’t you ever discuss things with us together? Is it because you think I’ll roll over and do whatever you say, unlike him who will fight back? You want me to agree to what you want then convince him to do the same?”

“We told you what the plan was, you only needed to let us execute it.”

“I’m not waiting!” She shouts. “You wanted to wait weeks after the show to tell the truth and then you wanted to spin it like we broke up. Do you know what you’re doing to us by doing that? Do you even care??”

“Hyeri,” her manager tries to get her to calm down.

“No!” She retaliates feeling the burn of her frustration come boiling over. “Did you even see the witch hunt against Kihyun? And for what?! A few extra viewers? Did you notice no one is talking about the fucking show because they’re so concerned about whether Kihyun is a good boyfriend or not? This lie is hurting him. It’s hurting me. And it’s hurting my actual fucking boyfriend who I’m not even sure is even my boyfriend anymore! I’m not waiting around for you guys to say something when this shouldn’t even be happening in the first place!”

“Hyeri please,” her manager says trying to calm her down.

“Do you guys even care about me?” Her tears begin flowing endlessly and she can’t control her emotions any longer. “Why was it so bad for me to admit to dating Yoongi, but telling a lie is better?” Her cries turn to full sobs and she’s clutching her chest. All of this pain for what? Losing the love of her life for what? “I don’t care what you decide to do, but I’m not going to lie to anyone any longer.”

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vulpes-fennec · 1 year

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Stuffed like a Turkey (Elucien) 🎁

Summary: When Lucien’s Solstice pranking goes too far, Elain demands his repentance.

A series of fluffy/smutty ACOTAR winter one-shots! 12 stories for the 12 days leading up to Solstice (December 21).

Warnings: Smut, mild brat, vaginal sex

Read: Masterlist | AO3

It was Elain’s first Solstice outside of the Night Court, since she and Lucien had officially moved to the Day Court this past spring. Helion, the former Lady of Autumn (now Lady of Day), Eris, and his pack of hounds were coming to their little house for Solstice dinner. It was going to be packed, and people were going to be hungry.

As Prince of Day, Lucien had court obligations that kept him busy from sunup to sundown. So Elain had cheerfully volunteered to cook Solstice dinner this year.

It would’ve been fine and well, but Feyre’s birthday luncheon had run late, and Elain was frazzled by the time she winnowed back into the Day Court. Dividing time between the courts during the holiday was hard. Still, there was plenty of time before the guests would arrive to get things done.

The turkey went into the oven first. It was a magnificent bird, seasoned thoroughly and brined for the last 24 hours. Plenty of carrots, apples, and beets to rest on, but no onions or garlic—those ingredients were toxic for Eris’s dogs. Elain busied herself around the kitchen as the hours ticked by, chopping vegetables and sautéing with dexterity.

Elain took some time away to lug her present for Lucien downstairs. It was a huge box, wrapped prettily in dusty pink paper. But it was a little prank: there were subsequent boxes of smaller sizes nestled within each other, all of them individually wrapped. The final box, which was about the size of her palm, held a pair of glittering emerald earrings.

There was no time to worry about what her mate’s Solstice prank would be. When Elain rushed back to the dining room to set the table, the jingling of the front door indicated Lucien had returned.

“Lucien!” Elain cried, running over to give him a crushing hug. She hadn’t seen him all day. “How was the Solstice ceremony?”

“Hello, sweet pea,” he murmured, pressing her close and inhaling her scent. The male was draped in a white linen toga, the regalia of the Day Court, despite the frigid temperatures outside. “How was Feyre’s birthday lunch? Did she like our present?”

“She did.” Elain pulled back to admire Lucien’s handsome face. A gold armband circled his bicep, and a small golden crown rested on his brow. His brown skin glowed with good health, smile was equally bright. Lucien was every bit the heir to the Day Court. Her mouth watered at how delicious he looked.

“How’s dinner prep going? Do you need any help?”

“Hmm. I need to set up the dining room table, so could you please take the turkey out of the oven? It should be ready.”

“Gladly, my lady.” Lucien kissed her softly before striding away.

Elain had just finished rearranging the silverware when Lucien called out to her from the kitchen. “Sweet pea? I think you need to see this.”

“What’s wrong?” Elain hurried to the kitchen to find Lucien, still in his Day Court toga, peering into the oven with a perturbed expression. She nearly screamed when she saw the turkey, or at least, what remained of it.

She hadn’t checked on the turkey in the last few hours, fearful of losing precious oven heat. A tiny, golden-brown bird lay on top of the roasted vegetables. Elain could have sworn her arms had strained to heft the turkey into the oven, but this was a bird that couldn’t even be shared between two people, let alone a house full of Solstice guests.

“What the hell?” she shrieked, pushing Lucien out of the way. “What happened?!? How did the turkey shrink?” she wailed, taking the tray out of the oven with thick mitts. She prodded the tiny bird with a fork. It was big breasted, with juicy drumsticks and perfectly spiced…but it was far too small.

“I told you there was something wrong with our oven! The turkey was our main dish of the night! What are Eris’s dogs going to eat now?!? Oh, Lucien, they’re going to go hungry!”

There was no response. Elain whirled around to find Lucien shaking with silent laughter. He brought out a small takeout box from the cupboard with the name Camilla’s Cornish Hen Stand stamped across the front. The male gently floated the bird on the tray back into the box. And with a snap of his fingers, the real turkey, properly sized and still steaming, reappeared on the tray from the pocket of space. Lucien’s Solstice prank, Elain realized.

“You fiend!” Elain pouted, her cheeks burned red with embarrassment.

Lucien was still chortling. “I just can’t believe you thought a cornish hen was our Solstice turkey!”

“Hmph!” Elain turned away crestfallen. “How could you do this to me, Lucien? I’m so stressed out already trying to make everything perfect for your family during our first Day Court Solstice…” her voice shook with tears.

Lucien’s heart cracked. “I’m sorry, my love.” Lucien wrapped his hands around her waist in a back hug. “I only meant for it to be a harmless joke. Tell me how I can make it up to you. I’ll do anything…wait a damn minute. Elain!” He spun his mate around to find her laughing.

“Did I fool you, too?” she giggled.

Lucien sighed with relief. “Gods, Elain. Still have a few tricks up your sleeve, I see.”

“How did you manage to sneak it in? I literally charged at you the moment you came through the door!” she exclaimed.

Lucian grinned. “Oh, I made sure to take that into account. I climbed in through the window—and before you look so alarmed, I made sure to move your plants out of the way—switched out the birds, climbed back out. And then I came in through the door.”

“Clever fox.” Elain leaned in, running her fingers along Lucien’s bare pectoral. She trailed the golden armband on his bicep, appreciating how it gleamed against his burnished skin. “Anyways…I thought I heard you were offering to make it up to me,” she proposed with a sly grin.

“That was when I thought you were upset!” Lucien protested, though his skin was starting to run hot under her nimble fingers wiggling their way over his chest. Elain wearing a frilly pink apron was always a treat, and his russet eye appraised her lithe form with a twinkle.

“But I haven’t seen you all day!” Elain whined, turning her big brown doe eyes up at him. Her perfect pink lips pouted petulantly. Lucien sucked in a breath, grappling with his self-control. “We should do something together before our guests come.”

“Yes, we should, but you’re being such a brat right now with your whining.” Lucien bent down to kiss her, but Elain turned her head.

“I’m your brat. And besides, you know you love it.” She gave him another pout.

“Alright, then. What does the little brat want me to do?”

Elain’s pout melted into a grin. She tip-toed to whisper into Lucien’s ear, “I want you to stuff me like a turkey.”

Lucien nearly choked. His sweet gardening mate always had such a dirty mouth behind closed doors. “Our guests will be here soon, sweet pea. Are you alright with something quick?”

“Yes,” Elain said, impatiently hauling Lucien’s lips towards hers. Lucien hungrily delved his tongue into her mouth, the faint remnants of their Solstice dinner from taste-testing lingering on Elain’s tongue. “Ever since you walked through that door—” she broke off with a gasp when Lucien lifted her effortlessly onto the counter, large hands pushing up her dress.

“Mmm I missed you,” Lucien breathed against her neck as Elain’s bare legs spread wide open for him.

“Close the kitchen blinds.” Elain was barely coherent as her hands fumbled at the cinched knot holding Lucien’s garment in place. The white fabric fell away, revealing his strained erection, the head gleaming with precum. Elain needed to travel back in time and thank whoever created the toga, for it displayed all her favorite parts of Lucien: his broad chest, his muscled calves and thighs, his tanned brown arms…oh yes, and also, the easy access to his cock.

Normally, Lucien would have taken his time removing Elain’s stockings by slowly rolling them down her leg and leaving a trail of kisses, but today, he was in a rush. He disposed of her stockings and damp underwear in a pile before kneeling on his knees to kiss her inner thighs. Elain whined as Lucien’s hot breath ghosted over her most sensitive areas. “You look delicious, my love,” he whispered reverently.

“I don’t want you to taste me, Lucien! I want you to stuff me up,” Elain demanded.

“Bratty as always,” Lucien remarked dryly. But Elain’s hips bucking in his face and her sweet arousal were unbearably tantalizing. Lucien allowed himself to lick a stripe up her pussy, tasting her glistening skin, before getting back on his feet. “But as my lady commands.”

When they’d moved in, Elain and Lucien had requested a new countertop. One that was specifically the perfect height for him to drive himself into her without any further warning. Elain let out a squeak as her mate stuffed her completely, his heavy cock stretching her walls perfectly. She threw her head back, moaning “yes, Lucien” as Lucien began snapping his hips against hers.

Elain pushed the last bit of Lucien’s toga off his shoulder, leaving him bare-chested and beautiful under the faelight. She wrapped her legs around his hips, locking him in so that he could never leave her again. The sight of her mate, with his golden sun crown on his brilliant red hair and his dark gaze as he fucked her had Elain clenching, then cumming in quick succession.

“My bratty chef looks so good with my cock stuffed inside of her.” Elain could only whimper as Lucien found a deeper angle. She was a pretty sight to behold, her warm brown eyes half-lidded with bliss and her cheeks flushed with euphoria. Simple brown dress bunched up around her hips, the top laces loosened revealing soft curves, and that damn pink apron was the cherry on top.

The heir of Day leaned down, his red hair tickling the nape of her neck. “My beautiful mate,” he murmured into her ear. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Elain. The Solstice ceremonies were so droll without you there.”

“Were any females throwing themselves on you?” Elain demanded, feeling possessive at the thought of other females eyeing her mate. If she didn’t have Feyre’s birthday luncheon to attend, she would have gone to the Day Court’s Solstice ceremonies.

“Are you jealous?” Lucien muttered darkly. His hands gripped her waist, his russet eye sizzled with desire as she dug her nails into his back in response. Elain latched onto Lucien’s neck with her lips, sucking hard. The wet suction of her lips and the vibration of her little moans on his skin with each thrust had Lucien groaning as he spent himself inside her.

Lucien lay her gently on the counter as he pulled out of her, wiping the apex of her thighs with a clean towel. He walked around their kitchen, his muscled, tall body still naked. Elain blissfully lay back on her elbows, admiring her mate. She blinked.

“Oops,” she gasped. “I may have left something on your neck.”

Lucien’s gold and russet eyes grew wide as he checked his reflection in a small mirror on the wall. A dark, mottled hickey had bloomed on the column of his neck. “Elain! My parents will see this!” he hissed in shock.

Elain blushed bashfully, a completely different female from the one who had boldly ran her hands over him minutes ago. “I’m sorry!” she cried, wringing her hands fretfully. “I got carried away!”

Lucien sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. “You have nothing to be jealous of, Elain. No Day Court female would ever dare provoke your wrath.” A small, animalistic part of him preened at the thought of his mate possessively marking him up as hers…perhaps he could request that from her for their next Court appearance…

There was a loud knock on the front door, and excited yips coming from outside. “It’s Eris!” Elain’s brown eyes widened. “Why is he here early? We are not ready yet!”

“Of course Eris is early,” Lucien said dryly as he handed Elain her stockings from the floor.

“Open up! It’s cold out here!” The High Lord of Autumn barked. “Are you…are you two fucking?”

“No!” Lucien shouted, tugging on his toga hastily. The air was thick with the smell of their arousal, and he had no idea how to clear the scent. Elain grabbed a bottle of perfume on the counter and began spritzing it madly. She coughed as her nostrils were filled with cloying floral essence.

“Don’t lie to me, little brother! My dogs say they can smell—oh wait…maybe it’s just the turkey.”

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien fanfic #elucien smut #elain x lucien #lucien x elain #acotar solstice

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introvertedlass · 10 months

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Sent this to another blog:

I get it. Ppl are on edge. Obsessively so but that’s fans for you.

Here’s the thing; so the current tea drop is that this violinist started following AB a few days ago or at least a day/two ago.

Multiple blogs are JUST now within this hour posting this info at the same time.

1) were the blogs given the info a day or two ago and just posting it now?

2) or are they just receiving the dms now and all at the same time?

It’s been repeatedly mentioned that these fans are FBI level sleuthers. Good or bad, they get info and almost in real time, will alert blogs. US based fans will keep blogs updated throughout the day, and then overseas fans take over while the US fans are asleep and vice versa. Almost 24 hours of coverage (lol) thru this past whole year.

So…AB’s followers are blocked but somehow someone discovered a wedding violinist began following her, not five mins ago, but a day or two or this past week. And they sat on this info and let ppl go nuts over a podcast for the last three days instead?

I’m not buying it.

I’m sorry - tin hat time, but someone’s watching the blog spaces and sending this info to team real and pr blogs to stir shit up.

I don’t think it’s Ce/his team/friends/family.

This time, I don’t think it’s a super sleuth fan or stalker.

I think it’s someone else with a Birds Eye view into all of the drama and directly aligned with a certain someone who has her followers locked but somehow ppl keep discovering whose following her. A few guesses who.

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ammg-old2 · 10 months

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The Wagner Group, a mercenary force that is effectively an arm of the Putinist state, has been very good at meddling in the politics of countries other than Russia—and ensuring that its preferred regime either takes or stays in power. Before Wagner’s fighters became infamous over the past few months for their extremely brutal attacks on the Ukrainian city of Bakhmut, the group honed its expertise in political control mainly in Africa, supporting governments that served its interests in the Central African Republic, Sudan, and Libya, among other states.

In that light, what we’ve witnessed over the past 24 hours has every appearance not of a spontaneous mutiny but of an extremely well-planned attempt to manipulate President Vladimir Putin and even threaten his rule. Within a day, what looked like a pretty far-fetched stab in the dark evolved into a military incursion approaching the gates of Moscow. This has resulted, the latest developments suggest, in a deal with Wagner’s leader, Yevgeny Prigozhin. If that agreement meets one of his central demands—the removal of Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu and Chief of the General Staff Valery Gerasimov—that would potentially give Prigozhin greater say over the Russian war effort.

What has become clear is how well plotted this operation was. Putin’s onetime caterer of choice, Prigozhin has emerged as one of the most ruthless operators in the Russian oligarchy—and this political move is perhaps his pièce de résistance.

What can we tell so far? Prigozhin’s preparations for this operation—at least as a contingency plan—must have been in the works for months. Military supplies, including armored vehicles and air-defense systems, had to be stockpiled and moved into place inside Russia itself. All of Prigozhin’s very public complaining about being deprived of supplies by the Russian military now appear to have involved an element of crocodile tears. Prigozhin and his supporters were not only able to send a significant military force into action last night, but they also had a logistical network to back it that was capable of moving hundreds of miles in a day. The Russian army now trying to resist Ukraine’s counteroffensive probing must be looking on in envy.

The timing of the plot seems shrewdly chosen. The Ukrainian counteroffensive began in earnest almost three weeks ago, and the bulk of the Russian army—an estimated 80 to 90 percent of its strength—has been deployed to Ukraine. Much of that force has already seen combat, and a significant portion of its reserves are also now in the field. At the same time, the Ukrainians have gone to great lengths to degrade the Russian army’s logistical capacity in Ukraine.

The consequence of all this was that Putin could not easily draw upon those forces to hold Wagner off. He would have had to order Russian troops facing Ukrainian attacks to retreat—potentially weakening points in Russia’s defensive line. And even if he had ordered them back into Russia, that movement would have taken many days, and more likely weeks, to have a significant effect.

Even an efficient army faces real challenges taking troops out of action, shipping them to a new location, and redeploying them into action. And one thing we can say about the Russian army today is that it is not particularly efficient.

So Prigozhin’s timing seems optimal. Putin would have had to either try to get by with the relatively small number of troops left in Russia—whose loyalty and willingness to fight for him appear in question—or accept the risk and delay of ordering frontline troops to leave Ukraine. (The troop shortage Putin faces seems evident from the fact that the quickest force sent into action has consisted of troops under the orders of the Chechen leader Ramzan Kadyrov.)

If Prigozhin was careful in both his preparations and his timing, he also selected ideal locations for his operation. The first two large cities his forces appeared in, Rostov and Voronezh, are among the most important transportation hubs for the Russian army in Ukraine. These cities, with their large railway systems, have been used to stockpile military equipment. By seizing control of them, Prigozhin planted his boot on the windpipe of the Russian army.

Whether the Wagner fighters felt that they could count on wider support remains a mystery, but striking, almost shocking, was the lack of organized military resistance to Wagner’s maneuvers—even as the group’s motorized military column advanced on Moscow itself. The operation seems to have faced just a handful of mostly ineffective attacks, but very little evidence of organized resistance on Putin’s behalf. According to some reports, Wagner shot down much of the aerial-attack force sent against it, including six Russian helicopters and one fixed-wing aircraft. This would equal Russia’s losses on some of the heaviest days fighting against Ukraine.

For now the question of whether Prigozhin will benefit from all of this planning remains. Reports have emerged that Putin has been forced to cut a deal with Prigozhin, brokered by Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko, to call off the Wagner Group. The details are still emerging, but the plain fact that Putin was willing to settle after calling Prigozhin a criminal earlier in the day is telling. If he agrees to sacrifice Shoigu and Gerasimov, that will be even more significant—and a triumph for Prigozhin. But if, after the Wagner Group’s withdrawal, Shoigu and Gerasimov are still in place, all of Prigozhin’s planning might have been in vain. In that case, he will soon have to start making new plans—if he wants to stay alive.

#current events #politics #russian politics #russo-ukrainian war #2022 russian invasion of ukraine #russia #yevgeny prigozhin #vladimir putin #sergei shoigu #wagner group

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nahtedomination · 1 month

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Choose Your Own Adventure base!

This is the blog for my CYOA. Way this works is simple.

Story with a post for the next choice, 24 hour poll with 2-5 choices.

Poll done, within a day I write a few paragraphs for it. Ideally with a day at least.

Those paragraphs will have another poll.

Repeat.

This will not be a fast thing and I don't plan on any 1 part being long, just something I think will be funny and relaxing to write with. And of course only lasts as long as people are interested enough in it to do the polls with me.

Send any questions if you want or discussion points. I'm all ears.

Also because Tumblr is...Tumblr I have to vote to see how the votes are going, which I like to watch to see how it goes. So if I post a picture of the results or anything just know my own vote is discounted unless there would be a tie without it.

Past CYOAs!

RWBY-Finished S//1//2//3//4//5//6//7//8//9//10//11//12//13//14//15// 16//17//18//19//20//21//22//23//24//25

Harry Potter-Finished S//1//2//3//4//5//6//7//8//9//10//11//12//13//14//15// 16//17//18//19//20//21//22//23//24//25//26//27//28//29//30 31//32

#mun talk #CYOA

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mihrsuri · 8 months

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1 10 19 24 42 45 49 62

Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics? I used to be a one shot writer but now apparently, I write multi-chapter fic I don’t even know!

Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up: nothing came up so have a bit from the last thing I wrote:

It feels hollow even to his own ears but it seems to help Mary, at least a little as she nestles into his arms. Even so her hand is shaking as she signs the warrant and for all her hours of prayer she has been at in recent days his wife is no less tormented and no more at ease.

What is the most-used tag on your ao3? OT3 and Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence. Both of these are the most On Brand Things Ever *g*

Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you? Someone once said that writing about trauma was abusive. Which uh, it made me never want to write again. That was fun.

What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it? Yes! It’s a Star Trek Discovery AU fic by my friend @bessemerprocess called Nobody’s Ready For Days Like These and like, it’s Intense (heed the warnings) but Henry does trauma so so well and also Competence.

45. Answered!

Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them? In all honesty, though I don’t get many/haven’t got many I had one not that long ago that made me want to delete everything I have ever written and [redacted]. And like, I know I’m fragile ridiculous like that but it does in fact, hurt. So these days I just sort of…ignore them.

Thoughts on cliffhangers? For me in writing terms I don’t plan them - but usually in terms of actually writing things within the chapters I kind of find out what happens as I go (I’ll write a general ‘this is what I would like to happen’ in a few bullet points these days and I know where I want to go but the fine details are basically up to the tiny fictional people in my brain). Reading - I kind of need to spoil myself for things these days for Trauma Reasons so I am largely Not Surprised By Things.

fic writer asks

#meme

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echantedtoon · 5 months

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Rules Of One's Soul Ch1 A Game Of Souls

Follow the story of the Duke of Puzzles as he tries to grasp the concept of soulmates. Simple right? Well, try having two soulmates, one crazier than crazy and the other too good for his own good. Well whomest knowest how this will turn out?

(WARNING!! PLEASE READ: Mentioning of past abuse in this story. Also Rouxls has a slight fear of touch, and anxiety attacks.)

What would you do if your job was to deal with a power hungry king who could snap at any moment? Quit? Haha! Only if thou wanted to end up in the dungeon or worse. But also that you were completly put in charge of something you had barely any knowlege of, forced to babysit a hyper mini king, and had to do whatever the king wanted at a moments notice any hour of any day. Oh! And this was all a 24/7 job. Congratulations. ......Being the duke was highly overrated but, nobility wasnt without sacrifice. Which was what he was ready to put up with when he agreed to first being the king's royal advisor.

The king was always much of a brute, big, mean, and not afraid to show his displeasure for anything he didn't find to his liking. But at least the Queen always managed to calm him down-....Ah. Her highness- She was always such a caring and kind spirited lady. How she could possibly tolerate let alone love that big brute was a mystery in of itself, but then again he wasn't in any place to judge. Now was he? He was just the royal adviser(more like royal errand boy) to the king, but still he admired many things about her. Her courage, her endless kindness,....her beauty-...*ahem* Anyways, things were going well in thine kingdom for a while. Sure the constant nagging and intimidation of the king would get tiring but he was used to constant pressure from higher ranking people. The other three kings and queens were much more pleasent to be around, sometimes the neighboring Durrmee Royal family would visit. The Spades even eventually announced the coming of their soon to be child after a while...Huh. It seemed like everyone was starting to settle down it seems.

Unfortuneatly nothing like this lasted forever-

Everything changed the day the knight came. The Queen disappeared. The king went mad! The former kings locked away, the neighboring kingdom attacked, the foutain appearing, and the king slowly descending into more....destruction. The poor prince. He didn't deserve any of this. Noone deserved any of this actually. It seemed madness spread to others as well. Not too long after the jester was caught trying to slay an innocent bystander and was locked within the safest cell constructed. Not too long after that the royal magician quit along with some of the other staff...or thrown in the already crowded cells. But it didn't make any difference to him. He just had to keep on smiling and agreeing for his own sake.

Day after day. Smile n agree. Smile n Agree.....Hopefully nothing bad happened.

But enough rambling about his past. You dear readers are here to read the tale of his future are you not? Well then. It all began with one scared rudinn on one rainy night-

The rain had been pretty aweful this season. It only lasted a week or two, but it was always pretty dull to watch. Luckily he had been given of paperwork by his majesty to last hours to keep him occupied! Isn't his majesty so consideret? ..*ahem* anyways- He was swamped with paperwork, which was why he jumped when a knock came from the large wooden door. He obviously flinched and looked at the door. After a few more moments of silence, a timid voice finally broke it:

"...Uh..Sir D-Duke," a male voice sounded muffled by the door, "C-C-Can I come in? W-We have a uh-....s-small problem."

The blue duke let out a small sigh of relief it wasn't who he intiatlly thought it was and gave a small smile. "Of courseth. Cometh in soilder."There was another pause, before the door creaked open and said rudinn soilder stuck their head in. The Duke smiled assuringly before waving his hand in a come in motion, to which the rudinn seemed comfortable enough to slither in on his command. "Noweth. What caneth I do for thou this-"...He paused before looking at the clock on the wall. Good golly is was already almost midnight. "...Night?"

The rudinn hesitated at first, wringing his hands together and shaking slightly. Even though Rouxls was a much better boss than the king was, he still had to report every progress TO the king and that's why most were nervous when it came to giving the daily reports. "W-Well Sir bossman. Sir. U-Um...I came t-to deliver the day's r-report?"

The duke stared at him. "Now? Tis nearly thine next day. Why hast thou come to deliver it so latest?"

The rudinn shrank more. "Well...T-That's the problem,Sir Puzzle man. Um....We're h-having a problem w-with one of the prisoners? " Rouxls's confusion must've reflected on his face because the rudinn winced. "It's the um....J-Jester, S-Sir."

"Oh..Him." The mad jester was always troublesome. Ever since his capture and imprisonment, he's always found new ways to scare the guards. Babbling about how the King was merely using them all as pawns like in a game, or howling about chaos or something. He never really recalled the jester much, purple jolly fellow, always getting into trouble. Ounce put green hair dye in his shampoo bottle as a prank-.....He'd never forget that, his hair was an ugly green for a month. The guards were pretty freaked out by him, but he didn't see the big deal as long as we was behind bars. "So what thou's problem?"

"Um.....H-He's acting....really strange tonight. L-Like..r-really freaky. And uh....No one w-wants to give him his food."

"Well, then thy answer tis simple really. Let him go hungry. Maybe that willst teaches him a lesson about his behavior."

The rudinn looked even more distressed if possible. ''Um...We kinda can't? The King's d-doing his w-w-weekly insp-p-pection tomorrow, Sir. A-And he gets r-really angry when I-it's not done."

Rouxls froze at those words. Weekly inspection...? oh no- HOW COULD HE HAVE FORGOTTEN?! Well- He has been swamped in paper work for the last few hours, so he guessed he could've forgotten,, but the king wouldn't take his excuse. His body began to shake lightly from the memories of the king's anger. Teeth bared, claws out, pain on his face- He immediately shook his head and looked back to the Rudinn with a stern face.

"W-Well getest someone down there and feed him something!"

"W-We can't."

"Why not?"

"N-No one wants to go down there, b-but we don't want to see the k-king mad either so..Um...W-We were hoping YOU would do it?"

They stared at each other, before Rouxls groaned and moved his eyes down to the mountain of paperwork that STILL needed to be finished before tomorrow. Too many things were always thrown at him weren't they? But...he was always used to bearing the brunt of the hard work, might as well go do it and get it over with. What could've been so hard about feeding one prisoner?

He sighed and reached a hand up to run through his white hair. "Fineth. Just..telleth me where I can findest this 'freaky'prisoner thou speakest of?"

***********************************************************************************************

DING!

The duke made an obvious flinch when he felt the elevator stopped and made the comical dinging noise. He certainly wasn't expecting the sudden darkness greeting him when the doors opened up, luckily there were torches along the side of the darkened staircase that lead down into...well, he guessed the cell, but this seemed a little extreme for one prisoner. Maybe a suitable punishment for the king- He shook his head and meekly leaned his head out a bit to peer past the darkness. He couldn't see anything except barely the stairs and what looked like bars maybe? But he didn't see or hear any evidence of anyone down there? Perhaps this Jevil person was sleeping? Made no difference to him. That just means it'll be easier for him. Taking a deep breath, he slowly stepped out of the elevator and onto the stairs. ..Nothing! Sighing, he straightened up his back and made his way down more confidently. There was nothing to worry about. Rudinns always worry too much anyways, getting him to do all the work when he already had so much to do. He muttered to himself irritatedly, nothing made him more irritated than being interrupted in the middle of work. This would take all night at this rate.

The poor duke failed to see the small shadow stirring in the darkness below, or the two small yellow dots that peeked out at him curiously. The yellow pupils blinked up at him from the dark, and a fanged smile slowly grew across his face. OH! A new visitor! Different from the usually rudinns or occasional hathy who usually just dropped his food off and left as quickly as they could, quite rude not to say hello. But THIS one-

The worm's biolumeniscent hair shone in the dark and sparkled as he walked down the stairs towards him, a scowl on his face. He muttered some things under his breath he couldn't quite make out, but that didn't ,matter to him. It'd been so long since he'd seen a new face, though he looked very familiar....Hey. Wasn't this person the prince's babysitter or something? Oh! Wait a second. It was the funny fellow called Kaard wasn't it. Yes. Rouxls kaard. Biggest stick in the mud other than the spade. He chuckled lightly remembering the many pranks he used to pull. Always had this serious aura around him. No fun that one.

This was going to be fun!

He held what looked like the usual mush of food he was given to eat, no doubt to deliver it like the rest, but the way he looked so done with life already- It was too hilarious! He finally let out a stream of high pitched giggles at the sight, just as the duke was bending over to set the tray down by the bars. Making the worm freeze and drop the tray the last few inches to the ground with a clatter. He stared directly into the cage where to his horror, two yellow pupils were staring only a few feet away. The two silently stared at each other until one spoke.

"Well, well. A new visitor, visitor to my little freedom!" The pupils blinked. The voice behind it sounded a little too pleased to be seeing him. "What brings you all the way down, down?"

The worm didn't say anything. So when the pupils suddenly sprinted at him, he yelped and slammed his eyes shut for cover. ….When nothing happened, he slowly reopened them, but he wished he hadn't. Because staring at him a feet or two from his face was the purple imp from his faint memories, but he never remembered him being so terrifying! When he still didn't answer, the imp hummed.

"What's the matter, matter? I got your tongue, tongue silly man? BWAHAHA!"

"..duke.."

He paused. "Hmm. What was that?"

"I-I-..." The duke licked his lips nervously. A few sweat beads of slime ran down his obviously frightened looking face. "It's D-Duke to t-t-thou, P-Peasant."

The thing cooed. "Oh. I see you've obtained a title.Hehehe." Somehow he shifted his body to lay on his side in mid air, with his head in his hand. "A title is just that, that. A silly little thing to call yourself, yourself.~...But now that begs a question. What brings the duke, duke to my humble little freedom? Freedom."

The duke was still obviously still frozen with fear with his eyes wide as plates, but confusion still seeped it's way into him. Freedom? He calls being in a cell in the middle of the dark feet under ground for years free? He really was mad wasn't he? He really should get out of there soon, but the fact this crazy person was still staring at him like prey was quite unsettling- Wait. He asked something right? Why he was down there?

"I-I...T-Thou has scared m-mine workers into not giving thee substance...*ahem* W-With t-t-thine king checking p-p-progress tomorrow, I-I can't afford m-mistakes."

The floating man hummed and it finally accured to Rouxls that he was balancing on his tail. What oddity is he? "What would one little me, me do to anger such a man?"

…..Rouxls blinked. Certainly not the question he was expecting, but- "Art thou insane? Doth thee knowest what thine king w-w-will doth to mineself if thy rules are not followed accordingly?!"

The jester merely shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea,idea. But life is too chaotic without the stress, stress of trying to follow all of HIS rules, rules. Now isn't it?"

"On thine contrary. I wouldst rather keepest mine head on mine shoulders than to risk displeasing his majesty. Following the rules is needed on a daily basis."

At that he let off more high pitched cackling. "After all these years, years he still has the pieces of his never ending cruelity, cruelity. *tch* And they say Im mad and foolish."

"Thoust tried to killeth thine king. Of courseth he woulst locks thee up like the traitor thou are!" The fear was slowly starting to be replaced with annoyance at the feind. "I have wasted enough of mine time here. "He slowly leaned back up to a standing position. Thou haseth thine food, perhaps you'd be wiser than to scareth off thine food supply. Or else starve to death."

His ears perked up. "Is that a threat I hear oh duke?~"

"Taketh it how thou wants to! Im nay afraid of a mad fool trapped behind bars of coldst steele."

"Is that so?" His eyes lit up with an unknown glee. ''Well, then how about a little numbers, numbers game?The rules are simple to play, play?~"

Rouxls gave him an even more annoyed look. He had important work to do and this fool wanted to play games. "Nay! I haveth no time for your idotic foolishness- EEEEE!"

A death grip had wrapped his wrist and attatched to it was the smiling lunatic with a gigantic grin, which only grew hearing the Duke's squeal and the way his confidence has easily been returned to fear.

"Oh, come now, Duke.~ It's simple really. All you have to do is run while I count how long your-"

Rouxls let out a squeak as a pulsation ripped through their bodies and simaltaniously pulled his hand away from the equally startled imp, who's tail pulled him back a few feet and his eyes widened at the sudden feeling. Rouxls's soul thumped hard against his chest to the point he thought it was going to burst from his chest, then as suddenly as it came it left and his soul slowed down and his lungs heaved out. Rouxls stood there. Blinking.

D-Did he...Did he just have a soul attack? B-B-But then, where was the pain? HE should've been flopping on the ground like a fish. Maybe an anxiety attack? Nay. Those never felt like electricity was surging through him.

It must've been a giant zap of static cling.

The two just stood there as the effects wore off and slowly looked at each other. Jevil was the first to move as he slowly looked down at his paw, his button eye spinning. He stared at his paw for a moment before closing it and giving Rouxls a wide eyes look. Rouxls could see the blue shape of his soul slightly from under his clothes as it faded away....Ok. Weird side affects for static cling.

"You?" The voice brought Rouxls back to Jevil as he blinked in confusion.

"I-I..I what?"

Jevil didn't seem to notice he said anything and instead look back down at his hands in pure confusion. "I didn't think I'd ever see the day, day...and with someone so...opposite, opposite!"

He turned back to the kaard with a newfound glee on his face. That spooked and confused him to no end. In one swift moment, the thing lunged at the bars and reached a clawed hand out. ROuxls obviously yelped and tried to back away but the clawed hand caught onto the front of his shirt. With a hard yank, the duke was slammed against the bars and once again a spike of absolute terror washed over him. Yellow eyes looked at him. What he didn't know was that Jevil was drinking in every detail of his face. He never noticed but the duke seemed to have dawned a few scars to his otherwise flawless features, must've been a fight or two. He surely was a fascinating one wasn't he? Oooh! He could feel his soul lighting up with this new found

"How marvelous, marvelous! A new player and game, game!" Genuine excitment rang through a genuine happy smile, though the terrified Rouxls didn't seem to notice. His soul beat against his check a mile a minute! He could burst from what he purseived as fear any second, not that jevil noticed. "Ehehehehe! So this is where it all begins, begins! "

He HAD to get out of there! He pulled his head back and got his arms up ready to shove this pest off himself- He froze. Something wet slid against the side of his cheek and he gave off a high pitched whine. His body shook lightly-

And then he thrashed uncontrollably. His brain having one goal. GET AWAY FROM HIM! Jevil was taken aback and loosened his grip on the blue man. The duke fell backwards and instantly began to shuffle back-

"Wha- Hey! Wait, wait!"

He didn't listen. Stumbling and desperately trying to breath, he ran back up the stairs towards the elevator and into it. The up button was spammed practically into nothing and the similar ding noise was heard as the doors slowly closed off the darkness. As the machine shifted as it slowly went up, the duke collapsed against the side wall and slid down to the floor breathing heavily.

What the actually f*ck was that?!

…………………...……...……......……...……...…...…......………............…...…...…...…...…...…..................…...……......……...…...……………......………...…...…...

He shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't be doing ANY of this. What would one think if they knew that the King's appointed Duke of Puzzles, caretaker of the prince, and master of law and order would be feeling absolutely weak in the presence of an insolent clown?! NO! He wasn't weak! Rouxls Kaard was anything but weak. He was just....uh..a little unprepared for the absolute madness of the knave when they first encountered. Yes. That's it! Not even the great Duke of Puzzles could get all first impressions right.

He wasn't sure of the strange feeling in his gut whenever his mind revolved around back to THAT night. The strength of those ghastly hands latching onto him and slamming him into the cold steel, near those sickly glowing eyes. The very thought of those things made him shudder and get a sick feeling in his stomach. In a way, he was more terrorfying than thy king. At least with him you could tell when the Spade was displeased in anyway, but there's no feeling behind a mad man's smile. So. The answer to recovery was to just avoid the place and do his best to push those thoughts deep down and try to distract himself.

And for a while. It actually worked.

He managed to busy himself by making an actual working piece of his work the king seemed pleased with. He called it, A Control Crown. Though it still could use some work as it only worked on more...um. Less smart beings of the realm. And the King's annoying worm(but much better company keeper) of a son had gotten himself into plenty of shenanigans the Duke had to fix or pull him out of. It had been maybe a few months since the incident and he rarely thought of any of that encounter. So all was well with the Duke of Puzzle. Thou the duke did experience a strange tugging or nagging feeling like he was missing something. Oh well. None of it mattered.

At least. Not until that night.

A storm had decided to make itself present that night much to the annoyance and fear of the guards. For it was tonight that the prisoner better who some had called Jevil -odd name if you asked him- once again decided now would be the right time to act up and strike fear into the poor guards in charge of the food supply to him. Which also meant none wanted to go down there. Which ultimately meant the duty would fall on the next upper person in charge.

.....Which meant it was up to him. To settle things. And go down there. With that THING!

He honestly almost threw up the mac and cheese Lancer and himself ate for lunch when he found out. But he was the Duke of Puzzles, appointed by the King himself. Law keeping was one of his best assets, which was why he was put in charge of these guards. So, with a heavy stomach and light head, he assured any listening he'd once again take care of the 'little worm' and put a stop to this all. Oh,if only he could have seen the familiar frozen grin plastered on his face at the moment. It only got worse when he stepped into the elevator and pushed the button to the unknown level.

Once the doors closed, the Duke let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and immediately reached to clutch at the tufts of shiny snow white hair on his head.

"What the f*cketh have I done?!" He breathed between gasping breaths. He wasn't even sure how stupid he was at this point! Why didn't he just tell them to let the stupid prisoner go hungry just for tonight and not bother!? This was absolute madness. Like kicking a live bee nest to anger the pathetic insects-

Bing!

"HA!" The Duke let out a short high pitched squeak of fright from the doors reopening to reveal the beginnings of a staircase and darkness below. He hoped no one heard him. A high pitched series of laughter ruined that hope.

"Oh, how fun,fun! A Duke of no suit has come once again, again to seek what he thinks he rules over!" He flinched when he faintly saw two glowing pinpricks from down below. "How interesting, interesting.~ Have you come to finally play, play?~"

He stood there frozen at the sight of yellow eyes waiting for his answer. The feeling of that insolent's slimey tongue grazing his cheek and the feeling of complete helplessness came rushing back to him in a heart beat. Gathering what pride and dignity he had left, the Duke casually stood straight up and gave an annoyed look. He tried to invision himself talking to a rookie guard or Lancer whenever he had to explain something. He just had to remember. HE was the one in charge. Not some bumbling knave that couldn't even harm him from his prison all the way down below.

"I-It has cometh to mine attention that thou art scaring the very guards that feed you!" He shouted down and waited for a response. But none came. The eyes didn't even blink. So he nervously licked his lips and continued. "If thou wishes to keep getting proper treatment from them in the future then thou needs to follow the rules set in place."

Felling a little more confident. He decided to yell louder. He was in charge. Not him. He had no control over the situation. He made the rules.

"Thou art getting on mine nerves and I do not wish to heareth about thine useless chatters or antics! I haveth no time to deal with thee any longer! I have more important matters to deal with than the rambles of an absolute mad man!! So keepest thine voice down and cease your useless shenanigans at once!!"

His voice echoed throughout the silent prison as the yellow eyes continued their silent watching. Rouxls stared down at the lowlife a little longer before smiling. That was until the pinpricks disappeared as the crazy fool threw his head back in laughter at the stupid show he just witnessed. Rouxls felt his ears press to his sides and his stomach drop hard. This wasn't the reaction he had hoped. All too soon the eyes were back along with a mocking voice.

"What a shame! What a shame! Thinking he could order the only one free, free in the whole kingdom!~ How amusing!~ How fun!! FUN!!~" Rouxls didn't like the change in tone of the deranged jester's voice. It almost sounded intrigued. And that's what scared him most. "I never had so much fun,fun with another pawn before! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!! Tell me Rouxls Kaard. If you are in charge, charge then why are you too afraid to play this little game, game of yours?~ Hmm."

The Duke didn't say anything at first. The heavy scent of fear consuming him and making his head spin.

"I.....I shan't need to e-explain myself to the likes of you! I prefer not to waste mine valuable time on dealing with your insolent empty words. Thou can pretend with thine mind games all thee wishes but Rouxls Kaard is nay fool!" He pointed a hand at him. " For you see, I have thought of the possibility of thou using these games to trickest me into coming in range of your dastardly grip! But I shan't be fooled again so easily! For by me staying far from thine's hold then thou shall not have a open point to strike! Who's winning who's game now if thou never even got a chance to make his first move?!"

"Yet, yet I'm not the one who's playing dirty.~ What fun is a game if one wins just because, because he cheats out of fear?~"

"Hark thee little knave!!" He bellowed in absolute anger like he just threw dirt on his new suit. "What rules are laid down is followed and I shan't listen to you any longer!" He turned back towards the entrance to the elevator with a huff.

The voice cooed in amusement. "BWAHAHA! A shame that the rules card is running like a defeated child,child at a game of checkers.~ My next visitor will be pleased, pleased to hear about the cowardly leader of a Duke that masters, masters over them!~"

He froze. Did he just-...? No. He couldn't have just....But he did! Taking a breath, the duke world around to face the yellow eyes with anger.

"Thou insolent, foolish WORM!!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs. Making the jester laugh again as the duke began to march towards the stairs in complete anger that his authority would be tested by a common criminal. As he stomped his way down, he remembered to keep his distance with time when he reached the bottom. Now face to face with the clown behind the bars. Even with his limited vision, he could make out the jester's pleased smile on his face. "You DARE to threaten me with useless rumors of mine reputation?!"

"Hehehe. Not a threat and not, not a rumor.~ Just facts straight and simple.~ But now that you're her, here-" The bells on him errily chimed as he tilted his head. "I find you're more fun, fun to play with.~ Tell me, tell me. Did you figure out the game, game we started last visit?"

Rouxls huffed. "You mean that useless asult on mine person? BAH! I refused to even think about such things to do with the likes of thou, Jevil!"

A sudden spark seemed to light up in the jester as his attention became a bit more...focused.

"Ooh!~ So you learnt my name, name?~ BWAHAHA! Tell me, oh Duke of rules and puzzles. Have you any idea of what YOU have started with this game, game of ours you triggered? Are not the feelings and tugs at your very, very core not clues to this puzzle you can't seem to solve?~"

The duke gave the madman a confused look at the nonsense he was spouting out of his mouth. Was this a battle of wits or riddles? If so he won either way. He didn't intend on ever coming back or giving this creature any more of his precious time after this. What was the point if he never made sense anyhow?

"Was does thou even mean? This is nay puzzle! Tis a riddle of a mad fool that shan't ever be solved!"

"Hmm. Perhaps. Perhaps. But tell me this Duke, and tell me true. True." A hand stuck itself out of the bars to point at him, making him flinch. "Did you not have a feeling of need,need or incompletion when you first left this place, place!? Is it now gone?! Replaced with the need to prove yourself! To, to the very person you can never win or lose against in this corrupted. CORRUPTED EMPIRE YOU CALL HOME, HOME!!"

It felt like the walls and darkness themselves were vibrating with the booming voice of the smaller floating man. Rouxls couldn't even bring himself to speak and Jevil's smile suddenly became knowing instead of amused.

"THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN REALLY PLAY A GAME!! GAME!! THAT MATCHES YOUR VERY OWN!! ROUXLS KAARD!! OUR FIRST MEETING, MEETING WAS NEVER OUR LAST!! THE VERY MOMENT WE MADE CONTACT, CONTACT IT SEALED US AND FATE INTERTWINED WITHIN MY FREEDOM, FREEDOM AND YOUR IMPRISONMENT!! THE BEING OF PERFECT ORDER AGAINST THE TRUE EMBODYMENT OF RAW CHAOS!! CHAOS!!"

The last word felt like a wave of sound hit him and sent the duke stumbling forward a few steps almost falling to his face before he looked up at the absolute monster clutching the bars in absolute raw horror.

"You....You're absolutely mad!!"

Jevil chuckled again. "Maybe that's true. Maybe I am insane. Insane. But I am truly the only free, free person....But you know. It's gotten rather boring,boring and dare I saw lonely in my little freedom. Duke of puzzles. I haven't really, really felt like anyone but my old friend Seam could begin to make me this amused, amused." Maybe his insanity was rubbing off onto Rouxls but he could've sworn he saw Jevil's smile slipping a little. "I will always regret happened between us, us. But, it seems fate has directed you towards me, hmm?"

"What?....I-I...I still haven't the faintest idea thou is sputtering out!"

"Heh. You still don't get, get it do you, Rouxls?" He gave a hum and might have sounded like a disapproved parent if he wasn't still smiling though me. "Interesting, interesting. Tell me. Do you know the concept of soulmates?~"

Silence.

The frozen duke stared at the floating creature inside the cage as his brain tried to process this. Yes. He knew what a soulmate was. What an absolutely stupid question. Everyone knows a soulmate is the one person in life you feel compelled towards. Like finally putting the final missing piece of a puzzle together-.....Wait.

Wait a minute.

The realization must've reflected in his eyes because Jevil's smile became more soft if that was even possible for a mad man.

".....No...NO! Nononononononono! NO!!" He hands flew up to clutch his head. The floor felt like it was consuming him with how much his body fell forward to it's knees. "NO! NO! THOU TIS LYING!! MORE MIND GAMES!!" He shouted desperately at the jester who just smiled warmly back, like he was a dear old friend stopping by to grab a chat. His eyes searched for any indicators of mind games or a sick joke. "I...I can't anything to you but a toy for your amusement! Let alone thou's s-soul....IT"S NOT TRUE! I SHAN'T HEAR OF IT!! LIES!! ALL OF IT LIES-AH!!"

The same strength pressed him against the same bars. And the once proud duke whimpered like a dog when facing the same eyes from his nightmares.

"Naïve, naïve little duke." His voice was like he was trying to comfort a child and Rouxls let out a whimper when a clawed hand cupped his chin. His face was closer now. Why wasn't his body reacting!? He could feel the hot breath of the jester before he spoke next. "One cannot deny the rules, rules set down by fate now. Can you?~ We balance and do our dance, dance like chest pieces on a bourd. One never belonging to a suit, suit or getting the upper hand. But...we never lose, lose either.~"

The contact was warm, heated and made the duke feel a sudden rush of strange belonging filled with another stronger feeling of throwing up. Both feelings intensified when the crazy jester slightly loosened his grip on the frozen man's shoulder when something that felt strangely similar to a rope wrapped around his torso. Jevil didn't notice the white shiny liquid beginning to sting the duke's eyes or the sudden swing until something came impacting into his face. The force sending the smaller man a few feet away to the ground with a loud "OH!". Instantly when the contact was broken the duke threw himself back onto his rear and shuffled back towards the stairs. Gagging and clutching at his chest. Trying his dammed hardest not to give in to the urge to puke. A slight pain throbbed in his hand from where it struck the jester.

He coughed and sputtered while taking gulps of air through his mouth to help control himself. A small silence went by before the duke shakily looked at the direction of the man who had once again violated his personal being. At first he thought he was imagining it through the tears or the rushed feelings spiked through him, but no. Jevil was standing there instead of floating. One hand clutching the bars while the other cupped the cheek he guess he must've hit. A look of pure shock on the jester's face. Of the ounce proud man now reduced to a shaking crying mess.

Neither said anything for a moment before jevil spoke.

"You're....crying. Crying?" He blinked and removed the hand from his cheek to inspect it. Like the answers were written on his palm. "You...hit me, me?"

"WELL WHAT DID THOU EXPECT YOU GOD DAMMED FOOL!?!?" Both flinched at the sudden raged tone that seemed to rush out of him. Jevil more than him. But the angry feelings overtook any other rational thoughts. "DID THOU SERIOUSLY THINK UP THIS WHOLE CRAZY DELUSIONAL F-FANTASY OF ROMANCE TO GO ALONG WITH YOUR PATHETIC TRAGETY STORY LIKEST SOME SICK NOVEL WRITTEN BY A COMMONER!?!?"

Jevil stared long and hard before an annoyed expression came over him. "Fantasy, fantasy?.....DELUSIONAL TO MY OWN FEELINGS!?" He growled and gripped the bars of his caged prison. "YOU DARE SIT THERE, THERE AND CALL ME, ME A FOOL FOR RECONGNIZING THE PLAIN TRUTH WHEN NO ONE ELSE DOES, DOES?!"

This time it was the duke's turn to give a dry laugh. "HA! YOU CALL WHAT JUST HAPPENED A TRUEST EVENT!? AND YOU ACTUALLY EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THOU'S GESTURE LIKE A NORMAL DARKNER'S?!"

Jevil's face immediately dropped. Rouxls sat there as both heavily breathed from the events. Before the duke slowly stood up onto wobbly legs.

"E-Even...if I did think thou's affections were true, what reason would I have t-to accept or believe when the person who gives it is a prisoner? Seam was in his righteth mind to exit this madness when he did-"

A low growl directed him back to the now angry jester. Anger was a new expression for him but right now he didn't care. Rouxls felt sick, covered in sweaty slime and tears, and equally angry.

''Don't bring Seam, Seam into this."

"Or what!? Thou'll attack me with more unwanted affection! This isn't exactly a splendid walk in the dungeon foreth me!"

The imp let out another growl before pointing another clawed hand at him. "You cannot, cannot tell me you can't feel-"

"I DON'T!!" The loud voice of the duke echoed throughout the entirety of the prison cell. Silencing anymore rambling from either end. "I tire of these useless antics a-and....AND I HAVETH ENOUGTH ON MINE PLATE AS TIS IS!!" He pointed a hand at him. "I SHAN'T EVER RETURN TO DEAL WITH THOU'S ANTICS AND I WILL NEVER SEE YOU AS MORE THAN THE ONE WHO TOILS WITH MINE EMOTIONS!! GOOD MORROW, WORM!!"

He turned and began stomping his way back up the stairs towards the open doors of the elevator. Ignoring the sudden expression on the imp's face.

"W-What?....ROUXLS!! You can't leave a game unfinished once you start to play, play!! It hasn't even finished!...R-Rouxls? Y-You can't forfit this game, game.....Not when I-...COME BACK, BACK!!"

He paid the creature no mind while he continued climbing up the stairs-...Which was a mistake.

An animalistic shriek pierced the air louder than anything he ever heard from the king. A shudder ran up his spine and only one thought shot through his head.

RUN!

He sprinted towards the exit up ahead. Almost tripping over his own two feet a couple times in his panicked haste to get out. Something whizzed by his head and embeaded itself into the wall above his form as more began whizzing past him. The animalistic screaming still present. One of the thing grazed his shoulder causing him to yelp in pain as a cut instantly formed. He ran into the elevator and practically spammed the up button as more of those sharp objects continued to fly around him. The doors slowly closed. Muffling the shrieking and little metallic thuds. Slowly, the elevator began to steadily rise leaving the noise behind him.

Unable to withstand the wild roller coaster of emotions moving through him, Rouxls collapsed against the side of the elevator as it continued to rise. His body shook uncontrollably as he was finally able to take a look at the things that were flung at him.....Hearts. These things were all hearts. He choked.

The once proud Duke of Puzzles reduced himself to a sobbing crying mess as the elevator continued to rise.

#deltarune #undertale #rouxlvil #deltarune nosuit #Nosuit #rouxls kaard #rouxls kaard x Jevil #rouxls kaard x Seam #rouxls x jevil #jevil x rouxls #seavil #seam x jevil #jevil x seam #Seam #Jevil #Rouxls Kaard #Rules Of One's Soul #seaxls

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dark9896 · 1 year

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Spilled Tea [Blurb Cannon]

Requested by Anonymous 🔥

No one was expecting the lights to go out. Even more worrisome when a sniper laser began tracking through the living room. Klaus had been quick to put himself between danger and everyone within arms reach, following your instructions to duck into a narrow passage. Trusting you when you said it lead to a secret bunker. Given everything they thought they knew had long since gone up in smoke over the past 24 hours, it wasn't difficult to think you still had tricks up your sleeve.

What they didn't know, what you had to explain after the fact, was how you had planned the chaos. Using the cover of dark to wreck your own apartment with a slingshot while Detective Law pointed a high-power laser pointer to mimic a sniper. You had packed everything of value while others were fruitlessly interrogating the man you'd managed to capture. Explaining you planned to throw the place away with the end of the lease agreement happening the day after. Needless to say, it left everyone shocked for a couple days, with you stashing the "second-life kit" in your actual apartment.

Klaus

"L-Liebling," Klaus didn't like prying, nor did he want to tell you what to do... and yet, "Are you certain all that secrecy was necessary?"

Your raised eyebrow had Klaus doubting himself, "It's just that... You do know you can tell me when something feels off. I'd hate to hear second-hand that you were hurt or targetted or-"

"Klaus, it was never an issue of trust or feeling secure." You sighed, setting the teacup down on its saucer, "I just wanted to make sure I had a fail-safe for those... extra dangerous targets."

Scratching the back of his head, Klaus stopped mid-breath as you went on, "I mean, what are we supposed to do with targets like that? Risk taking them to HQ? Bring them here? Or to Steven's place? Or anyone else's for that matter? Having a place like that apartment in my back pocket just... it just..."

Klaus reached across the small garden table, gently squeezing your hand. He could tell you were at a breaking point, that explaining yourself and your feelings was still quite a difficult undertaking. But he also knew that simply reminding you it was okay to vent fully was the right thing to do. Klaus would always be there to listen, and to remind you it was all going to be okay.

"It just," You exhaled deeply, "It makes things just a bit easier for me to deal with knowing that I am prepared for every situation. Cause frankly, sometimes just carrying a f&^king tomahawk on my hip isn't enough."

You didn't want to admit to the bright pink rising on your cheeks as Klaus chuckled at your... non-joke. But for now, the matter was dropped. For now at least.

Steven

Finger's idly tapping on his mouse, Steven sighed. He had been mulling over that incident for the past two weeks. And none of it made much sense.

Sure, he could understand a few secrets here or there. A weapon stash, an arcane lock system. Even your preference for older 'junk' cars was perfectly normal to Steven. But a whole separate apartment? That felt like a little too much.

Unable to handle the weight of all these questions without answers, Steven picked up his phone. You mentioned needing to look for a new backup place, and he wasn't entirely sure about waiting for a face-to-face talk.

"Hello?"

"[Name], are you busy?"

"Not particularly, just signing paperwork. Why?"

"Can you talk?" Steven's eyes lowered from the monitor to the keyboard, "About the last place I mean."

"Not right now." That uneven tone meant you were trying to make this sound normal, civil. More secrets to blank-faced strangers who would never guess that the new neighbor was really a... "Could I call you back? Maybe an hour from now? Or I could just pop over for a visit if that's easier."

"An hour?" Steven's fingers drummed the desk impatiently, "Meet me at Broskette in an hour. We can get coffee before we get to my apartment."

"Oh, so you're still at work then?"

"Yeah. But there's not much left to do. Schedule's pretty clear and all."

"Alright, yeah. I'll see you then."

The talk over coffee hadn't gone nearly as smoothly as Steven had hoped. Resulting in quite the spat between the two of you, arguing over keeping secrets. Deep down, Steven knew he was just as bad, if not worse about keeping secrets. He couldn't truly have an open communication relationship, not when his secrets would get people hurt.

But you weren't backing down. It shouldn't matter how many secrets either of you kept, you would die on that hill. You couldn't help but feel like Steven was ignoring what you were saying. That you just wanted to be ready for situations like that, how it felt like he couldn't trust you to know what's good.

Storming out of his apartment with bitter tears clinging to your lashes was the worst feeling in the world. And as much as Steven instantly regretted letting you leave, he wasn't quite fast enough to catch you before you sped off. Tonight would need something a little stronger than wine to cope with himself. And tomorrow would come with a lot of explaining...

Leo

This whole thing was a little too much for Leo. He knew you were prepared for basically every situation, but for whatever reason, this felt like a step too far. But Leo couldn't put his finger on why.

Why did this bother him so much?

"Leo?" You nudged his arm from across the table, "Everything okay?"

"Huh?"

You tilted your head, "You're stuck in your own head again, aren't you?"

"It's just..." He scratched the side of his face, "The whole thing with the second apartment. The second life stuff."

"What does that matter? It's just a thing to fall back on."

That rubbed Leo just slightly the wrong way. He couldn't pin down why, but hearing you be so nonchalant was just a little too much.

"I mean, it's f&^ked sure. No one should really need a backup apartment. But then you get a job like this and..." You sipped your drink to avoid coughing, "Well, with a past of not being able to trust a whole lot of people. You can see why I didn't think to tell anyone. Even you."

That made things a little better, but Leo still didn't like how you could so easily dismiss it. This isn't exactly something he could forget about any time soon. Maybe this time it won't bug him so much, he already knows that you will have a second apartment. Maybe...

Zapp

"So, you and that other apartment... uh..." Zapp didn't know how to start this conversation, he wasn't the kind to talk. Especially not about this but, "Any other uh... things you wanna fess up to or...?"

"I don't have any other romantic partners if that's what you're asking." You were a little preoccupied with your game to really dive into this right now, "But I did find a decent little chuckle-f^ck neighborhood. Just gotta fill out the lease tomorrow and--"

"C*CK-S#^KING A$$ HOLE! MOVE OUT MY G*D D^MNED WAY SO HELP ME!"

Zapp leaned over your shoulder. For such a chill-looking game, it was full of fuzzy animals for f^cks sake, you always seemed to cuss at it like you were dying to a boss or something. Then again, if the same little f^cker was in Zapp's way and constantly talking... he could understand it at least.

"B^tch." You muttered under your breath, "Anyways, yeah. Everything'll be settled and sorted by tomorrow."

"M'kay, not exactly what I was getting at Steven 2.0."

"Then what?"

"What do you mean 'then what?'!" Zapp frowned, "You're basically domestic Rambo... or is it Metro Rambo?"

"I think the term you're looking for is prepared."

"It most certainly is NOT the word I'm looking for you walking armory! You're a mini Chief with Steven's disposition!"

You looked at Zapp, "If I didn't have that apartment, we wouldn't have gotten the answers we needed, right?"

"Well... I mean, I guess."

"So I'm not Rambo, I'm just prepared."

"Yeah right." Zapp scoffed, "You carry at least three blades on you at all times, even in the shower!"

"I do not!"

"You so do! I've seen them! You were pulling them out of your hair!"

"Those were bobby pins you demented orangutang."

Zapp was not about to back down from this. He knew you always had weapons on your person. This was going to be a long night...

Zed

It felt like Zed had brought this same topic up at least once a day, but he never was able to get a straight answer. As much as he didn't want to constantly pry, he did need some form of closure over this matter. In one day he went from believing he knew his partner to thinking they were a complete stranger again. It was the kind of mental whiplash that made his head hurt.

But he really didn't feel like he had much of a choice.

"[Name], I know you probably don't want to talk about this, but..." Zed sat up a little on his side of the couch, "You never have given me a decent answer about that apartment. Why you had it in the first place and why you feel you need another."

Letting out a deep sigh, "It isn't strictly to keep secrets or anything. I just... I feel better if I have something like in my back pocket, ya know?"

"No, I really don't. That's why I'm asking you." He shifted to face you a little better, "I don't understand what would drive a person to having a second apartment, even if does help with one's job."

You stopped. Normally Zed did get things like this, without the need for you to explain in detail. It wasn't exactly the kind of thing you liked fessing up to, since it would make it seem like you just didn't trust him. And that couldn't be further from the truth, you just never knew when the right time was to bring up a literal safe house to your partners.

But you couldn't very well keep stalling, Zed did deserve an answer at least... even if it was a difficult one.

"So, I've always struggled with being able to trust other people." YOu started, "And not knowing when to bring things up until it's absolutely necessary. That said..."

Zed's jaw hung limp. He wasn't expecting you to have that kind of a past. It had him feeling a little guilty about pushing so hard for answers. Then again, if he'd gone through the same kind of situation, he would likely want to be as prepared as you were at all times.

Suddenly your "obsession" with weapons made a whole lot more sense.

#bbb #kekkai sensen #kkss #blood blockade battlefront #klaus von reinherz #steven starphase #zed o'brien #zapp renfro #leonardo watch #ask

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fallloverfic · 1 year

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Sharing panels from ENNEAD

Mojito, author/artist of ENNEAD, the boy's love manhwa, has asked that people not share more than 2 panel screencaps per post. She's tweeted about it a couple times, starting with March 29, 2017:

Machine English Translation Text: "Thank you for liking it. However, please do not make the capture too large ;ㅅ; Just one or two, please. And the source please."

Mojito also pinned this to her profile for over two months starting with August 29, 2023:

Machine English text: "To prevent spoilers, only 2 cuts are allowed. Please also cover the speech bubbles. And those who illegally spread and translate! No thank you at all. I am grinding and making my body every day. You drain my mind. Stop right now."

It's also listed on her twitter profile:

캡쳐는3컷이상X

Machine English Translation Text: "Capture more than 3 cuts X"

This is generally understood to mean 2 panels or less, not no more than 3. So please respect Mojito's wishes and only post screengrabs/captures/screencaps of no more than 2 panels when sharing around. You should also remove/blur out any text, and indicate where you got it from (e.g., Ennead by Mojito, S02E41).

Sharing the panels that Witchcomics/mcomics puts up for their previews is probably fine because those are made freely available, but I would stick to just what they put on their twitter, which have watermarks on them, not screencapping the unedited versions from the paywalled episodes. A number of the legal sites offer at least a few free episodes to read, if not something like what Tappytoon does with its Time Til Free program, where you can get all but the last 48 episodes entirely for free (which is currently all of season 1, and part of season 2).

And it goes without saying, please do not share scanlation panels. This is different from screengrabbing from the actual comic, and is typically pretty obvious because scanlators cover their work with their watermarks, identifying the scanlator. Mojito hates scanlation, most manhwa authors hate them. They put the comic's future at risk. Works have been taken down in the past because pirating is so bad. If you really want to promote the comic, you can link to Mojito's twitter, or the various legal places to read the manhwa, one of the animated trailers, or link to the Witchomics/mcomics episode previews, which are freely available on their twitter. Witchcomics puts up a preview for the new Korean episodes generally within 24-48 hours prior to a new episode. The trailer and previews are intended as advertising to be shared.

#ENNEAD #Ennead by Mojito #엔네아드 #panel sharing

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fettl3 · 2 years

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would love to hear abt art school camp if you’d wanna share

Ummmmm yah. This will be long.

I have a LOT of thoughts & feelings that I’m still processing. And a lot of it feels unsafe to share tbh. Like I’m confined to not go against this system that I’m participating in… this is my “community” (aka access to success as an artist) so I do feel restricted in what I can share honestly about this particular school…. But also whatever lol this is tumblr after all

I can say that I spent 2 weeks at an art summer camp as a TA for a ceramics class. The class was 9am to 5pm every day (no days off). And my position was unpaid. So there’s a lot there. I did it mostly because I love my friend very much (she was the teacher of the class) and she really needed my help. Also because I wouldn’t ever have access to this school by route of paying for a class bc they’re like $6k. But still, an 8 hour work day for 14 consecutive days unpaid is… fucking insane.

Additionally, I have long term friends that were on staff, so my stay was complicated by insight into the inner workings of this organization. To say the least it’s a shit show. Completely dysfunctional at the level of handling conflict. Pay disparity was also a big issue. It’s definitely not an org I would ever consider working for in a serious way, regardless of the access & resources it offers…

These are all things I knew going into it. The camp itself is kind of constructed to be an “experience” for students. A “site of experimental behavior,” as my friend put it. I can see why people fall in love with it. It’s really cool and unique to be isolated with a group of invested artists, to be submerged into craft and also to be “free” within the parameters of the land. There are healthy meals served 3 times a day. No locks on doors, no need. There was programming every night: artist talks, performances, karaoke & 2 huge dance parties. There is lots of sites for conversation & so many good convos to have. Each specialized studio has unique & impressive facilities in addition to hang out zones (fire pits patios etc). The land is beautiful, left rustic, and located on a lagoon you can kayak out in. Some of my students called it utopia. I think that’s what we (staff) were attempting to facilitate for them. & honestly I do feel good that it seemed most of my students had this experience. Makes me feel like I did my job well :)

However, my experience does not reflect the experience of the students… AT ALL. I found being there to be like… like being eaten alive maybe.

The work felt like it was 24/7. Living in community with my students is something I would never like to do again. Also I learned that I hate teaching this demographic. My students ranged from 20-36 years old. The ones in their early 20s latched on to me so fucking intensely. I understand why of course: they were trying to peak into their future, into what the world might hold for them, how to make it as an artist etc. But also the fucking relentless flirting, the attention, the lack of privacy or alone time, it seriously felt like I was being ripped apart to be eaten. On the nights where we all got wasted dancing I found myself as a caretaker for these kids (who are only a couple years younger than me) and just honestly like I couldn’t fully relax ever. They were coming to me for answers, they wanted me to tell them who they are supposed to be. It was A Lot.

It was also pretty triggering for me to be immersed again in community that was heavily affiliated with the university I use to go to. I was forced to drop out and although I have moved past this & moved on & up in my life… I’m still hurt. It was hard to be working (for free!!) for people who ultimately are more privileged than me. It was hard to contend again with the fact that privileged people are still whole people, that whiteness & wealth is just as harmful & confusing to them as it is to us. These last few years I’ve really been intentional about who I keep around me, who I work for, what I’m doing in the world. I align myself with very specific communities. I live firmly & uncompromisingly by my principals. Participating again in this type of community felt for me like a major spiritual step backwards, while also being a major step up in a career & artistic way. It was just fucking intense dude!!!! It was complicated as fuck!!!!

I won’t get too into it rn but there are like deeper connecting thoughts I have that I’m still sifting through. Very present on my mind while I was there were concepts I learned in The Delectable Negro by Vincent Woodard. I couldn’t stop thinking about Nat Turner, about his head being passed down like an heirloom. I had bad dreams & panic attacks every night, with visions of this abstract bone/clam like shape. Every day there somebody new connected with me, we showed each other our soul & then moved on to do it with another person. I thought about what it means to be in a community where there is no police, but where certain behaviors mean immediate banishment. What it means to have a community that refuses to acknowledge basic forms of human interaction, like violence. What it means to set strict, rigid expectations of how each person aught to act, or believe in, then profess diversity & free thought. What it means to omit the true, sometimes ugly, diversity of reality.

Paired with a well researched & lived-in understanding of class/race struggle… idk. Being there felt ummmm horrible lol. Absolutely relentlessly horrible. & I held the weight of that feeling for so many people: for each of my students, for my friends on staff. But nobody was able to hold me. My support network back in the city couldn’t see beyond the privilege & fun of me being there. Or they were just dealing with their own shit. When I came back into the city I felt empty totally empty & i had 2 massive breakdowns. It was very much like past experiences right after a trauma. The response I’m experiencing in my body does not logically match the conditions of being at that school, so it feels like I can’t ask anybody for support. But. Idk that’s just the truth of it. Thanks for reading.

#PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG OR SCREENSHOT #this is a real truth if you have any respect for somebody being deeply spiritually honest with you #then you would please not abuse my vulnerability

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brandstruphassing18 · 20 days

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vinedvengence · 3 months

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Spores and Stars

Chapter 1 - Acclimations

Chapter CW's: mentions of trauma, physical assault, potentially distressing trauma-related dialogue, night terrors/trauma related nightmares, grief, choking/asphyxiation (in a dream but still lol) A/N's in tags for background info

Vrisryn was irritable, to say the least. It had been over a hundred years since the elven druid had last felt any anxiety or fear even remotely close to the levels of stress which they’d endured throughout the last 24 hours. Circumstances beyond their control had become a theme in their life long before this, but a being abducted by mindflayers while on a routine stop in the city only to awaken on their crashing nautiloid? That definitely warranted a top 3 spot in the stories of unfortunate events which had become such a trademark experience for them.

Surviving the nautiloid crash and escaping illithid captivity was only the start to their newfound troubles. Other discomforts and concerns took form in the shape of discovering the fate that awaited those who become infected with illithid tadpoles, as well as the strange companions they had reluctantly picked up along the way—the abrasive but adept githyanki, Lae’zel; the untrusting & mysterious half-elf cleric, Shadowheart; the seemingly clumsy but endearing human wizard, Gale; and the pale, snide high-elf Astarion, who Vrisryn couldn’t help but notice hosted unnatural fangs and two inauspiciously placed puncture wounds along his neck.

How subtle, they had thought to themselves when his dagger pressed along their neck–right before they rightfully headbutted him off of their person. Vampirism and the undead were not completely unfamiliar subjects for a druid of the Circle of Spores, and while the potentiality of being in proximity to such undead didn’t particularly phase the wild-elf, they couldn’t say for certain that the other party members would be as unbothered as they were by such a discovery. They chose to act oblivious to the matter for the time being. A notion for him to share and a trouble for another day, they figured after he had agreed to travel with the group.

Vrisryn was not fond of being close to people, and traveling with others was a foreign concept altogether. Circle of Spore druids were particularly known for their preference of solitude, and even among their circle, Vrisryn was considered a recluse. Despite the wild-elf’s natural charisma, socializing was NOT something Vrisryn found enjoyable—let alone comfortable. They considered such things a necessary nuisance. Between the circumstantial & personal risks that forming close bonds carried for them and the fact that they had spent roughly the last century relatively alone in the wilderness, they had little reason to welcome any opportunities to grow close to people. Any form of socializing or interpersonal connection was something that they had learned to allow only when absolutely necessary.

Vrisryn had no interest in close bonds with others. The bonds they had forged with nature and the wilderness had sustained them more than well enough the last century. Companionship with people was not something they had sought for since their youth; connection and intimacy had long-since been cast out of their mind and heart, believing that such frivolities to have been privileges long-since spent from the past. Even when it came to acquaintances within their Druidic Circle or work, they kept most exchanges to solely business-related matters; where they could name many associates, they would be hard pressed to claim any being as something even remotely akin to a friend–short of potentially Psilofyr, whom they refused to acknowledge as such.

No—the druid had not felt any sense of true connection or understanding since the few years they had spent recovering from and adjusting to their spellscar in a myconoid colony. They had found themselves in the care of the strange creatures and the mad-mushroom deity after the traumatic loss of their prior life to the Spellplague which infected their homeland during the Year of Blue Fire. Where it stood now, they had grown to prefer solitude, and worked intentionally to maintain that detachment from others. It was a choice that had served them well both in their heart and with their druidic work.

They didn’t see it as a sacrifice, but rather, as an act of acceptance of their own fate. Death had made it clear where they stood in the story that was their life. And who were they to disrupt nature’s holy balance by protesting death’s decision, let alone for the sake of their own selfish emotions or desires? The bitter acceptance of their circumstances had taken a long time to adopt after they had recovered from their creeping madness, but once it settled into their soul, they found them disconnected from the reverence they once held over the living, as well as life itself. Being invested in other people was a luxury and a distraction that Vrisryn could no longer afford. They had come to find that their indifferent attitude towards subjects such as death, violence, or tragedy—as well as their general interest in the macabre—tended to fend off most that dared to seek connection with them, anyway. It was easier to remain on the outskirts, misunderstood, and drifting along nature’s intended course.

Now, these damned tadpoles and their ability to psychically link any fellow infected threatened all of the security and familiarity Vrisryn had previously found through isolation.

So: irritable would be one way to describe Vrisryn’s mood as they settled into camp. The first day of traveling with others had been treacherous and wearing. Between the tadpoles themselves, the forced acquaintances (not to mention the subsequent bickering amongst them–who knew less than a handful of strangers could find one another so disagreeable), the skirmishes within the decaying temple, and the literal skeletal withered freak that had crawled out of the sarcophagus in the crypt underneath? It was safe to say that exhaustion had crept up on the druid faster than ever.

Vrisryn was also clearly weaker than they had been when they were kidnapped; the effects of their newfound tadpole infection wiping away much of their prior strength and stamina. Some cantrips and basic first level spells were all the druid could manage to produce at the moment, and it was a miracle that their Spellscar wasn’t already rearing its head given the circumstances. By sunset, a migraine had seeped its dreadful way into Vrisryn’s skull. Whether it was from their Spellscar, the tadpole’s squirming, or sheer stress and exhaustion was unclear—but it had become disorienting enough that the druid had demanded they make camp for the evening far earlier than they otherwise would wish to.

Thankfully, reprieve was found nearby at a scenic spot along the nearby river. The druid had felt suddenly lighter upon finding the idyllic strip of land, and its vantage point and the stretch of woods separating it from the main roads made it easy to feel safe within. As safe as one could hope to feel given the circumstances, at least. They had begun the work of setting up a firepit and bedrolls before any further input from their traveling companions could be made, short of an abrupt noise of displeasure from Lae’zel. Such expressions had become white noise by that point due to the frequency of such exclamations.

Vrisryn adorned a smug look while taking in the sight of their traveling companions settling into camp for the night, recalling how much they had each begged them to move on and away from the scene while they searched desperately for their own headpiece and armor once outside of the decrepit temple. Each companion had exclaimed that the search was for naught, and each had shut their mouth as Vrisryn continued to procure bags and effects that belonged to each of them. In true nature, they had found their belongings last, after four hours of increasingly frantic searching – three hours past finding Lae’zel’s, Gale’s, Asterion’s, and Shadowheart’s own possessions. It was always satisfying for Vrisryn to watch others eat their own words around them.

Afterwards, Vrisryn wandered aside the river, leaving without a word in search of a shred of privacy as their exhausted party members hitched tents, organized camp supplies, and unpacked their personal belongings from bags nearby the fire.Hiding behind the mass of rock that separated this stretch of the river from the eyes of the rest of the camp, they stared into clear water at their own dirty, knackered reflection. The druid ran a hand against the top of the cold, calm river, just barely grazing it as they said a tender thanks to the universe for the reprieve of the nature around them. Vrisryn could hear the muffled, occasional banter and bickering of their traveling companions nearby; but it was mostly blocked out by the gentle babbling sound of the river mixing with the stream of thoughts bombarding their mind. Everything felt incredibly raw after this day, and they found themselves overwhelmed with the unfamiliar sensations and the sheer weight of the emotions of it all. Their lungs and stomach felt tight and tense, and the migraine had become nothing short of excruciating. They weren’t adjusted to feeling so strongly about anything these days. Their anxiety built as the implications of the current circumstances sank into their reality.

It was most common for them to experience the symptoms and side effects from their Spellscar at night, particularly after stressful days. That being said, resting within the eyes and ears of others tonight was a huge risk. Despite their fatigue, Vrisryn worried over whether they’d be able to find any rest this evening. Typically, they were still able to restore energy from trancing as any other elf; but ever since they had retained their spellscar, they had discovered that their body required the type of sleep that human and half-elves needed. Often, this would occur after their more arduous travels, unnerving experiences, or grave wounds. They hoped to the hells and back in spite of the obvious odds that their body would not require such deep vulnerability tonight, equally fearful of if they’d even be able to settle enough to trance. If they did find reprieve only to wake their newfound companions with any of the side-effects of their Spellscar, who knows how those around them would react to such a thing? Especially given the events that had already unfolded through the day—they found it easy to assume that the best case scenario in that situation would result in being abandoned.

Usually the druid would be thankful for a chance at abandonment and its promise of sweet isolation, but the circumstances were too dire to take such risks right now. Despite their longings for solitude, they needed all the brainpower they could get if they wished to find help with this whole tadpole problem and refrain from turning into a mindflayer. There was power in numbers. Still, they all had little reason to trust one another, and these new associates would likely see no reason to stick around with someone who held such baggage and risk.

It could potentially even be fatal to show such vulnerability; particularly, in the case of the blade-happy githyanki who would likely mistake the unfamiliar Spellscar symptoms as proof that Vrisryn was transforming into an illithid and react far before clarification could be given. Astarion had all but started their introduction with a blade to Vrisryn’s throat, so they couldn’t imagine he’d be particularly willing to stick around at any sign of further risk or burden either. Though, they also felt he could be just self-absorbed enough to completely overlook any effects they’d endure through the night. Shadowheart and Gale seemed the most fond of the druid at this point, and while they had sensed a kindred spirit of sorts in each, they by no means felt they knew either well enough to place even the slightest bit of trust in their character. Abandonment was still far more likely than acceptance, and despite their nature, their wisdom of the daunting odds stacked against them made it impossible to justify any permanent disbanding from their companions for the foreseeable future.

It’s also not as though Vrisryn could fault their companions if they did react that way in that event. The druid wasn’t particularly fond of this newfound situation either, nor trusting of those embarking on the journey with them–they too would be equally willing to cut off or cull any signs of danger or unneeded weight among the others at this point. Though, that could be the exhaustion speaking more than their actual beliefs or morals. They weren’t squeamish to the idea of violence any more than they savoured such measures. But any way they spun it, they found themselves at the same conclusion that these were still far too dire of circumstances to throw caution to the wind.

Vrisryn cupped their hands beneath the cold water, splashing it along their face as they stared out across the river, still lost in thought. The scent of vittles cooking in the fire wafted from nearby had grounded them back to the present somewhat. The sky was darkened now, with only a sliver of burnt orange-daylight left along the horizon as the speckles of stars and a bright, full moon washed across the sky overhead. The elf exhaled before stripping from their scale mail armor and washed themselves off quickly in the river, dampening their hair in the process but not bothering to clean it. Afterwards, they slipped into simple, comfortable threads that had been picked off the belongings of those they’d fought earlier in the day. Death’s blessing serves life’s purpose yet again, they thought to themselves reverently. Blessings be to the eternal cycle; may the spores of rebirth favor the fallen.

Turning from the corner of the rock, Vrisryn all but jumped out of their skin at the unexpected sight of the aforementioned skeletal enigma they had freed from the dank crypt earlier in the day standing nearby. The undead's blackened eyes stared intently at the druid, obviously having something he wished to say. Oh hells, they thought tiredly as they shook their head and sighed once more, approaching the creature with their arms crossed and a lifted eyebrow.

“We meet again, as predicted,” the undead greeted in its strange diction. “I shall be here in thy camp, for whenever thou hast need of my services.”

“Not to be rude, but… what exactly are you?” Vrisryn replied somewhat wearily.

“There are many answers to that question. None are important.”

“It’s important to me. Nature has an order, and while I have no issue with undead… Skeletons aren’t supposed to be able to talk.”

“Correct.”

Vrisryn squinted in displeasure.

“…Are you going to explain further?”

“No.” His response was firm, with a tone cautioning to not press the matter further.

Vrisryn narrowed their eyes at the undead before letting the subject drop with a roll of the eyes, too exhausted from the day to press the matter. He clearly wasn’t any threat, at the very least.

“What kind of services can a skeleton even offer?”

“Should thou or any of thy compatriots perish, I will cleave soul to body once more.”

This piqued Vrisryn’s attention immediately. A flicker of something between hope, excitement, and dread settled into their stomach at the prospect of such magic. The ability to retether the dead to life again, despite the circumstances? It was frowned upon within their circle to seek such channels, as it was considered an offense akin to stealing food from the mold and mycelium they worshiped. Yet, a part of Vrisryn’s heart had always hoped to find one capable of such skills… after all, if one was capable of such a feat, was there a chance that he could…?

“That’s incredibly powerful magic. Why is it so easy for you?” They questioned, failing to mask their obvious intrigue.

“Because it is my calling,” the withered man in front of them retorted matter-of-factly. “There is little else to explain.”

“You mentioned a cost. What is it?”

“A matter of coin, 200 gold, to be precise.”

“Could you… revive others, besides the companions I carry now?”

An unreadable expression passed over the wrinkled, misshapen face in front of them. Something between disappointment and understanding, perhaps even pity–though, Vrisryn themselves could not decipher the look.

“No. The threads of fate have already woven thy story; I shall only offer aid to thy chapters' future, not those of thou’s past.”

Reality quickly settled back in where the flicker of hope had taken hold moments ago. Disappointed but not surprised, Vrisryn’s expression sobered again. They nodded curtly, wincing as their head pounded harder with the motion, tadpole squirming behind their eye, before walking away from the undead man and back towards camp. There was nothing else to say on the matter, and the being didn’t seem privy to share much else at the moment anyway.

Returning in search of food, Vrisryn found Gale was standing in front of the campfire, clearly brooding. Each companion had set up their personal spots rather efficiently. To the side, Lae’Zel had somehow managed to create or procure a whetstone and was sharpening her blade, visibly irate in her own right. Shadowheart seemed deep in a prayer or perhaps meditation, and Astarion had buried his face within some large, dusty book. Vrisryn approached Gale first, though they had only done so to obtain some of the food nearby, not for conversation.

Just as they came from behind the wizard, he let out a deep exhale, and spoke:

“Go to Hell.”

“And a good evening to you, too.” Vrisryn answered sarcastically, bemused by the unexpected greeting as they reached for a serving of their supplies.

“Hah! You’re a good sport,” Gale responded, before beginning his tirade.

“Go to Hell. An everyday expression. So trivial, it’s almost meaningless—but we’ve seen Hell. It’s real. And it isn’t trivial.”

Vrisryn watched the flames in silence, taking a bite of the roasted sausage and carrots they’d obtained, unsure of what to say or where this exchange was leading. Still, they stood watching and listening to Gale intently, enticed by his sullen remarks.

“Devils, dragons, mindflayers — they used to be abstracts. Pictures on a piece of paper… What a difference a day makes. Now, we have tadpoles slithering through our heads like carnivorous foeti,” Gale turned now to face the druid, heavy and worried brown eyes locking with theirs. “That’s not abstract.”

There was a profound sadness and lethargy in the man’s expression that Vrisryn could tell was borne far before the illithid experiences they shared. Despite this, the flickers of orange from the nearby fire across his face painted the wizard in a charming light, Vrisryn noted. He had a comforting, charming visage, in spite of his pessimistic words and downtrodden aura. At least everyone in this little entourage is easy on the eyes… they thought shamelessly. Little victories, I suppose.

“We’re in deep shit, Gale; I can’t argue with you on that. Brooding will get us nowhere. Action will,” they finally offered, unable to spare any words of real comfort or reassurance at the moment amidst the waves of pain shooting through them. There was a moment of weighted silence between them once more as they both stared at the fire.

“This ballet of flames invites reflection,” Gale replied after some time. “But point made; you’re right. Let’s be up with the lark – find a healer before the wee one gets hungry.” He tapped his head with a smirk, emphasizing exactly who the wee one in question was. Vrisryn winced again as their tadpole squirmed almost in response, causing further tension in their sore skull. They felt dizzy for a moment from the pain, but if Gale had noticed anything, he made no sign of it. His back was now turned to them as he cast his thoughtful gaze silently towards the fire.

Behind them, Vrisryn noticed that Shadowheart had stood up from her prayer at some point during their conversation. The half-elf was eyeing the two of them suspiciously, though she turned her head away as soon as Vrisryn went to meet her eyes. Putting aside her seemingly aloof and untrusting nature, Shadowheart had earned Vrisryn’s trust the most thus far. Clearly the feeling wasn’t yet mutual, but Vrisryn wasn’t particularly bothered by that. Maybe it was the druid’s bias for clerics due to the deep gnome–Smilvi–who had helped nurse them both physically and emotionally, during and after their creeping madness in the Underdark.

Favoritism for clerics aside, Shadowheart had proven fairly trustworthy and sound of mind with strong, individual morals that the druid could respect. Regardless of her icy exterior, they had gotten the impression that Shadowheart harbored a secret softness, as well as some sense of care or favor for them. At the minimum, she had at least been kind & respectful. She had gone as far as to show concern over Vrisryn’s well-being when the decision to recruit Lae'zel was made. Even if it was only due to their help on the nautiloid or a need to not face the odds ahead alone, the consideration was welcomed. Plus, they could understand her wariness and respected her obvious affinity for privacy.

Vrisryn walked in the cleric’s direction despite the beckoning of the nearby bedroll they’d laid out for the night. They figured they might as well make a round along the camp to check in with all of their company before settling down for the evening. At the very least, doing so reduced the risk of being bothered by one of them with questions or concerns later. Vrisryn doubted they’d be particularly understanding towards any disruption of the limited rest they’d be getting tonight.

“What were you two talking about?” Shadowheart probed in an accusatory tone as they approached.

“What do you mean?” Vrisryn replied, slightly taken aback by the cleric’s tone. That wasn’t a question they were expecting.

“You and Gale.” She clarified, casting a scowl toward the man’s direction. His back was still turned to them, lost in thought near the fire.

“We were just discussing the next steps.”

“I see,” She said, pausing for a moment to cast her glare back towards the wizard. “I’d be careful with Gale.”

“You don’t trust Gale?” Vrisryn asked, an eyebrow raised in question. The man hadn’t particularly struck them as fallacious or deceptive by any means, let alone given them any reason for concern.

“He’s a wizard. All they care about is power.”

“Well, I wasn’t confiding in anyone. I was just talking,” the druid replied defensively, shifting their weight and placing a hand against their hip with a look. The abrasive and negative attitude radiating off each member of their party was beginning to wear on their already thin patience, and they didn’t care for others questioning their judgement.

“So am I,” Shadowheart retorted coyly. “If we’re to survive, we need to trust each other… You seem reliable. I think you know how important it is that we find someone who can cure us. Best if we focus on that.”

“Let’s not abandon all caution,” Vrisryn warned. “This is unfamiliar territory, and there is power in numbers, Shadowheart.”

“Caution is a luxury we don’t have,” Shadowheart sighed. There was a glimmer of approval and understanding in her eyes at the response of Vrisryn’s words, however. “Let’s rest and wake up at first light.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Vrisryn replied as they walked away, shifting their attention now towards the pale elf with his head buried in a book. As they approached, Astarion clapped the book shut and tossed it on a nearby pillow.

“You know, I’ve been thinking…” he started.

Oh, here we fucking go, Vrisryn thought, sighing and preparing themselves for this nights next batch of draining social interaction. Couldn’t they just get a short, simple exchange with one person tonight? Whatever was coming from this exchange seemed to hold promise of being particularly tiring, even more so than Shadowheart’s distrust and Gale’s sorrowful droning. Not to mention that they still had Lae’zel to check in with.

“And I think there’s something I should tell you,” Astarion continued in a lulling tone. “Nothing big or terrible, just a… small, little detail about me that hasn’t come up naturally.”

The pale elf moved his hands and shifted his weight in nervous contrast to his inflection as he talked, flourishing the words with his body language. Vrisryn assumed it was an attempt at either some sort of seduction, or perhaps just some form of self-soothing. His anxiety was palpable, and Vrisryn could tell he was struggling to figure out how to approach this matter delicately. If they hadn’t been so exhausted and irate, they likely would have provided more in the way of encouragement or support. It was obvious this wasn’t comfortable for him, but Vrisryn was far too spent to offer such grace to these strangers tonight. Instead, they stared directly at the elf with a firm gaze and a growing annoyance while awaiting his confession, wishing for him to get on with it and spit it out.

“It’s just that I happen to be a — ah, what’s the best way to put this…? …A vampire? A-ha!” His gray-white eyebrows were raised and pinched in anticipation, and an almost shy smirk accompanied his nervous laughter. His eyes looked similar to those of a cornered animal, waiting to see if they needed to bite.

“Well… yes. Obviously.” Vrisryn replied dryly, expression appearing unwaveringly detached and disinterested. Astarions eyes widened for a moment, brows raising, clearly taken aback by the druid’s indifference. He cleared his throat before dropping the expression and replying:

“R-right. Well. Glad we got that out of the way! So… Was there anything else?”

“Hmm…” Vrisryn pondered for a moment, looking up and to the side as their mouth pinched to one corner in thought. They fiddled with the ball of their lip ring between their teeth as they thought.

“I’ve read some texts on vampirism while studying within my circle, but I’ve always wondered how much of it was accurate. Many of the script on the subject is either riddled with obvious bias, or baseless smut. So, I’m curious – how does one become a vampire, exactly?”

“Oh, it’s simple,” Astarion drawled, still fidgeting around in those oddly flamboyant, fluid-like movements as he spoke. Something about the motions amused Vrisryn.

“Just find a vampire that will drink your blood and turn you into a vampire spawn: their obedient puppet. In theory, the next step is to drink their blood. Once you’ve done that, you’re free and a true vampire.”

“In theory?” Vrisryn probed.

“People think that the biggest threat to a vampire is a cleric with a stake,” his eyes shot to Shadowheart with a look of distaste before locking back to Vrisryn’s topaz and green eyes.

“It’s not. The biggest threat to a vampire is another vampire. They’re scheming, paranoid, power-hungry beasts,” Astarion bent at the waist here, leaning in towards Vrisryn at this point. His red eyes lowered and appeared hungry, as if to further illustrate his warning, and his arms spread around him in a sort of shrug as he continued.

“So, why would any vampire give up control over a spawn to create a competitor? Trust me. It doesn’t happen.”

“Interesting… Tell me some more about yourself.” Vrisryn demanded, their interest suddenly whetted by the first bits of vulnerability offered by any of their companions that proved to be a distraction from the tadpole still thrashing in their skull.

Astarion was entertaining to speak to so far, and somehow Vrisryn found that talking to him didn’t unnerve them as much as talking to the other party members did. Possibly, it was just a side effect of the high-elf’s apparent comfort at hearing his own voice in social exchanges–or, it could simply be because vampirism was also particularly intriguing to Vrisryn. Vampires had always seemed to them to be a new, potentially even superior form of being that tiptoed between nature’s lines of both life and death. They had been curious about the conditions and effects of vampirism since they first read about it long ago, and Astarion’s willingness to share with them had pushed aside their usual reluctance for conversation for the moment. However, Astarion’s tone had shifted apathetically and defensively at their probing.

“What’s to tell? I was sired by a vampire named Cazador. Everything before that is so long ago it’s ancient history. And everything that came after? Well, I’d rather not reflect on it.”

“You must remember some part of your life before that?” Vrisryn questioned, unsatisfied with his lustlacker response.

“I was a magistrate, working to keep the peace in Baulder’s Gate. Imprisoning trouble makers– that kind of thing. I can’t remember much, truth be told. Centuries of torment will do that to you.”

Vrisryn had scoffed internally at the idea of this man as a judge; it was certainly believable given his attitude. Their judgment quickly resided though, as they related all too well to that last statement, and nodded once in response before continuing with their questions.

“How were you turned?”

“I was attacked. A gang of vagrants-a tribe of wandering ‘Gur’— took issue with a ruling I’d made. They beat me to death’s door when Cazador appeared. He chased them off and offered to save me; to give me eternal life. Given that my choices were ‘eternal life’ or ‘bleed to death on the street’, I took him up on the offer.”

Astarion looked down at the ground, his mind seeming to trail off somewhere else as he continued.

“It was only afterwards I realized just how long ‘eternity’ could be.”

“Well,” Vrisryn responded somewhat uncomfortably. The air had turned a bit too vulnerable for their tastes now, and the bitterly sad expression on the pretty spawn left them feeling unsettled.

“I appreciate your transparency. It, uh, may be best to keep this between us for now though, yeah? I had already figured that to be the case, but I don’t know how the others would react to the news of a vampire in our camp right now… everyone seems on edge tonight, and tomorrow will be even longer than today. We can discuss it more later; for now, let’s just focus on recharging.”

Vrisryn walked away without waiting for a response, eyes locked instead on the nearby bedroll and campfire awaiting them. However, just past the promise of reprieve, Lae’zel’s eyes burned disgruntled holes into Vrisryn’s person, causing them to shudder ever so slightly. There was no denying the gith’s menacing and intimidating aura. With another forlorn sigh, they moved towards the githyanki and prepared themselves for (hopefully) the last interaction of the evening. Vrisryn could already assume what the exchange would entail: complaints about the decision to make camp, an urging to hurry along to this crèche she kept mentioning, and a heavy dose of criticism over anything perceived to be unaligned with the githyanki’s desires.

“A monster forms inside us, and you think to be idle?” Lae’zel began to chide. “I knew your kind to be fragile, but I didn’t foresee the severity. Cease your chatter and be quick about your rest. We must locate a crèche.” “This crèche notion of yours - are you sure it’s our only option?”

“You would doubt me? I do not trust a common healer to extract a ghaik tadpole without killing its host. At a crèche, a ghustil may cleanse us - SAFELY.”

“Still,” Vrisryn countered, too tired to question what in the realms either a ghustil or crèche was.

“We’re hardly going to turn while taking a rest… are we?”

“The parasites inside us do not rest. Even as we speak, they defile our brains and warp our bones.” The strange, yellow-green irises paused for a moment, taking stock of the seemingly fragile elf in front of them before begrudgingly accepting that their alien companion indeed would need rest before they would be able to prove themselves to be of any further use to the githyanki. She flicked a hand as if to discard the thought from the air between them.

“Take your rest. I will stand watch. Should a single tentacle split your skull, I will not hesitate to end you.” Lae’zel retaliated.

“Well, thank Ao for that.” Vrisryn muttered as they strode wearily towards the bedroll by the fire, settling into it and laying their cloak across them as a blanket. They were thankful to finally be alone with their thoughts as silence settles into the camp around them, leaving only the sounds of nature's ambience filling the cool night air.

At least no one has to worry about being bitten by the local oversized-mosquito tonight with Lae’zel keeping watch…

Vrisryn had anticipated restlessness and insomnia when they finally laid in the bedroll, especially with Lae’zel’s promise of taking watch resulting in a perpetual feeling of being watched by a predator among the rest of the camp. The druid had turned back and forth uncomfortably for hours, the tadpole exasperating the pain in their head. However, exhaustion had ultimately won over both their anxiety and the tension of their migraine. The conversations with their party had drained them far more than initially anticipated, and their body slipped easily into a meditative trance once the comfort of the campfire and stars moving by overhead lulled their eyelids shut.

In their partially-awake state, the day’s events replayed themselves clearly and precisely. The disorientation and confusion upon awakening on the strange, fleshy nautiloid ship. The struggle to land the crashing monstrosity amongst devils, mind devourers, imps and illithids which they encountered alongside Shadowheart and Lae’zel. The intensity of the crash after; a mindflayer’s burning, hateful eyes the moment before they fell from the ship and were knocked unconscious; Shadowheart’s strange reluctance to share any information about the strange artifact she clung to. The exchange of finding Gale stuck in his portal, and the simple amusement that had stemmed from snarkily slapping his hand before helping him out of his portal; freeing Lae’zel from the tiefling’s trap, despite her refusal to thank them; exploring the abandoned temple on the hillside, and the fight with those who had taken hold within. Then, the experience of meeting Astarion.

Unbeknownst to Vrisryn, their enervation had caused them to slip into a full slumber by this point. While their mind replayed the event, their subconscious twisted from a mere trance into a full sleep as a dream subtly wrapped around their mind.

“Hurry, I’ve got one of those brain-things cornered!” Astarion called out from the cliffside in their dreamstate. “There, in the grass. You can kill it, can’t you? Like you killed the others?”

“Kill it yourself - you look capable enough.” Vrisryn felt their lips form dryly, mouth parched and chapped from the dehydration and stress of the day, the scent and taste of smoke from the crash overpowering their other senses. They were still wounded from the last three “brain things” they had encountered in the ship below and didn’t feel particularly inclined to help any more stragglers along the road. They were hungry, thirsty, lost, and irritable, and had shrugged carelessly at the pale elf before they turned to continue along the path in the opposite direction. As they moved, they thought to themselves how the dirt looked suddenly and unnaturally fluid; strange. Different. Wrong… What’s happening?

“Oh, and I was so hoping for a kind soul. Well, not to worry!” Astarion spoke snidely.

In a blink, Vrisryn felt a cold arm hook around their neck and yank them in a swift motion to the dirt alongside the stranger. They struggled against him with a grunt, head panging from the impact, and attempted to sit up as a dagger was pressed near their throat in retaliation of the movement. The rouge had used a knee to pin down their weight near their calf, locking them firmly and uncomfortably in his grasp. Vrisryn glared from under him nastily as they felt the same flash of panic overtake their whole body as it had earlier; this sensation was familiar, and while few would be calm with a blade pressed to their throat, Vrisryn had a uniquely personal reason to feel anxiety at the situation. The thought crossed their mind that this seemed far too vivid of a sensation for a normal trance, but before much more could be considered on a subject, they were pulled back to the dream.

They felt their head cloud with the sudden flashback to the last time they’d been in this situation; this was a stranger, but then, it was someone important. Someone close. A swell formed in their throat, which began to close around itself as their heartbeat quickened and a cold sweat broke across their flesh, body shifting into fight-or-flight. The slightest noise akin to a whimper left them as they struggled against him, attempting to roll out from underneath him quickly; but their movements were too frantic, too predictable. Astarion pressed them down more firmly with a hushed “Tsk!”, bringing his face closer against their lowered, pointed ear.

“Shhh, not a word. Let’s try to keep that lovely neck of yours in one piece, hmm?” He lulled, his breath and lips brushing ever so slightly above their ear.

“And YOU - keep your distance,” he spat towards Gale and Shadowheart, who were watching the events unfold with their hands atop their weapons. “No need for this to get messy.”

The events began to warp here; and deeper in Vrisryn’s subconscious, they felt the offputting sense that this was no longer simply a trance’s replication of their day, but rather something else entirely. If it had still been a trance, Shadowheart would have interjected here before Vrisryn inevitably headbutted the vampire off of their person and discussed things more civilly. Regardless, the subconscious awareness that this was not how the events had actually transpired did little to rouse Vrisryn from the distorted sleep. Instead, the pale elf in their mind nicked a part of Vrisryn’s neck, causing a pearl of blood to trickle down their throat as the features on the pretty elf’s face began to blur and morph unnaturally.

“Though, making a mess seems to be your specialty, darling. And to simply give you freedom is certainly more generous you’ve been towards others, isn’t it? Even death would be far too merciful for you, you wretched traitor.”

Vrisryn’s heart sank as their eyes attempted to focus on the shifting presence over them; Astarion’s curled, white locks had changed shape, sprawling far past his shoulders, morphed and shifting to a familiar walnut shade; his red irises now became amber, and previously palled skin was tanned and peppered with freckles and thick, plush fur. The voice speaking to them had shifted as it spoke as well. It was familiar, but different – deep, loud, and certainly not Astarion’s.

Treolam, their mind cried in realization. Their dream self had formed the name around their mouth to speak it at the same time, but no noise came out with the movement. Wetness pricked at the inner corners of their eyes, and their blood ran cold.

“What could you possibly have to say to me, my sweet slaughterer; my corrosive consort! Come back to tell me how my elders were right about you and your allegiance!?”

The apparition spoke harshly, but it sounded crude and particularly corrupt among the warm, playful, almost loving tone of the satyr’s voice. Tears began to spill from the druid’s eyes at the sight of him–in the dream as well as the waking world–and they struggled against the grasp atop them, reaching in an attempt to place a hand along the man’s bearded face to no avail. The pressure atop them was sharp and heady, and Vrisryn made a pathetic gasp as the blade cut a bit more into their neck, leaving little rivers of blood spilling from their skin. Suddenly, a thick ooze began to crawl across amber eyes above them in twisting, thorny patterns; first appearing as a bright-blue but then shifting to black, darkening them. A warped, wide smile was plastered on his otherwise pained expression.

“I thought you wanted to see me again, Vris! Do you know the trouble I went through to find you here? Amuremsis bet me I couldn’t find you again, and I bet you thought you lost me again, huh? Oh, little love, I told you before! So long as the fey runs wild, I will always be able to find a way back to you.”

Vrisryn choked at the reminder of these words; the precious and private promise he had sworn them in their youth was now being twisted and contorted in a foul meaning by this apparition. Yet, it felt so real; he felt so real. Vrisryn could smell the woody musk of him, feel the wirey yet plush fluffs of fur on his arms, limbs and torso against their flesh, see every freckle and callous against his leathery skin. Their heart ached to hold him, to kiss him, even in spite of his cruel words and the blade against their throat.

“Treolam, I–”

“Shhh shshsh, you have to listen, little lamb, NO SPEAKING,” he interrupted, dropping the blade in favor to wrap both his hands around Vrisryn’s neck in a chokehold that silenced them with a whimper. The placement of his grip threatened to block and even crush their airways completely, lest they remain still where they laid in the crook of the satyr’s elbow.

“It’s so important you follow these instructions! You don’t want to lose me again, do you? You still want and trust me, DON’T YOU?”

The entirety of his eyes had glazed over with a slick blackness now; tears of blood streamed down his face and dripped along Vrisryn’s cheek as he placed himself directly atop them, pinning them fully into the earth beneath them, which had become the consistency of a thick fluid and sank beneath their weight. It had the same sensation of sinking into mud or quicksand. He removed one hand which now was smeared in Vrisryn’s blood, replacing it with the dagger once more before issuing his commandments.

“You can never forget me, you can never forget what you did. YOU killed us, all of us! You left me, and you failed to protect anything you loved. You always will, you know this. STOP LYING TO YOURSELF THAT IT WAS OUT OF YOUR CONTROL! You killed us all–your kin, your clan, your home. You broke us! You destroyed us! You ABANDONED us! You let me and Amuremsis go–you should never forgive yourself for what happened. You can never escape this. We will haunt you fore-”

Suddenly, the crackle of a firelog buckling into the embers of the dying fire back in reality jolted Vrisryn from their slumber. Their eyes shot open, and for a second they remained still and rigid, as if the apparition from the dream still had them in his chokehold. Cold air highlighted the wet tears streaking their cheeks, and their chest moved with heavy, short breaths. After just a moment they realized that it had been a nightmare, and their hands shot towards the sides of their head frantically; feeling for the all-too-familiar halo of the static, icy sensation which they’d come to associate with the activation of their spellscar. Their fingers met only flesh though, and they exhaled the breath they had subconsciously held with relief before glancing around camp to get their bearings. Lae’zel was still up, keeping watch as promised, though she had been turned towards the surrounding woods rather than towards the party at the moment. No one else was awake yet.

Luck is on my side tonight, they thought.

They couldn’t have rested for more than three hours. Typically, they would want to trance for another hour or two to feel fully rested–but despite the nightmare which always accompanied their body’s affliction with sleep, they found themselves fully awake. Their migraine had faded to a dull, hazy feeling, which was uncomfortable but bearable. Their body still felt heavy, though Vrisryn felt that had far more to do with their nerves about being in the company of others and the tadpoles in their head than anything else. The others were still asleep, and based on the coloring of the sky and the stars’ placements, dawn was not far off–two hours at most.

Regardless, Vrisryn knew rest of any sort would be lost to them now, and they opted instead to take this chance for some well-deserved solitude before their companions awoke and their adventure began once again. Pulling the sack of camp supplies close, they reached for another log to add to the dwindling fire, as well as some bread and cheese to curb their appetite. They wiped the remnants of the nightmare induced cold sweat off with their shirt before switching back into their armour and walking to where Lae’zel stood watch.

“Do githyanki not need sleep? I can watch until everyone else is up, if you want to rest a little.” Vrisryn offered genuinely, their raspy voice morphing into a yawn at the end of the question. Though it was extremely subtle, Vrisryn could detect the faintest expression of exhaustion on Lae’zel.

“Tch’! There is no need for rest in the astral plane–sleep is considered a triviality in a realm where time ceases to exist.“ A small sigh escaped her mouth after the claim, giving proof to her own exhaustion.

"Though I admit that it seems my body will need sleep in this Fay-run. I accept your offer; but do not think me to be vulnerable. Even in sleep, I shall wake to tear you from navel to neck should you provoke such a need.”

“I don’t think anyone here wishes to raise your ire, Lae’zel. Go - rest. I’ll just be scouting the area nearby.” The druid shifted into wild shape before Lae'zel could respond, assuming the form of a red-coated wolf.

Lae’zel had looked befuddled for a moment, and Vrisryn considered that they may have never witnessed someone use wild shape before. Regardless, she walked away with another “Tch,” before settling into a bedroll within her tent. Vrisryn was starting to become more and more unbothered by the githyanki’s mannerisms and threats, figuring it was just the only way that she knew how to communicate. She was not the first gith Vrisryn had encountered, and what little Vrisryn could recall of the Githyanki’s alien culture was not for the weak of heart or stomach. The others the druid had met first hand were far more provokable and venomous than Lae’zel seemed, at least.

It would be unfair to expect their companion to be anything but what they are. As they had told Shadowheart at the start of this, dangerous company was exactly what you needed in a fight – and Vrisryn had no qualms with the blunt or brutal nature of their companion, given what they appeared to be up against. It would just take time to grow accustomed to such aggressive reception, especially during such early hours.

The elf turned their attention now to their surroundings, sniffing the air in their new form. The heightened senses from the wolf-shape flooded their mind with various sensations and impulses. No danger, though; nothing but prey. The instinct of their wolf form took over, and the higher parts of their mind figured they’d earned some down time to enjoy the canine form. It was comforting to be in wild shape, blending into nature fully and thoughts of tadpoles, illithids, healers, and the uncertain road ahead blurring as a new purpose took over: a hunt. The wolf was easy to be lost to, and Vrisryn particularly favored this form when they felt the urge to run.

It was the perfect form to take for this morning, where the need to vacate their current surroundings and the company inhabiting it had itched as uncomfortably under their skin as the tadpole did from behind their eye. Even in wild shape, they could feel it; though, the instinctual pull towards the hares, boar, and deer inhabiting the woods around the camp and the hunger in their stomach helped to detach from the sensation and its accompanying thoughts. Wide, heavy paws hit the ground in a full sprint and hot air panted from the canines mouth. A flood of scent washed in, and in spite of the worries that Vrisryn hosted, the wolf version of them hopped around delightedly, a playfulness taking over the form they now inhabited.

The druid spent the next hour and a half hunting in the woods surrounding the camp; though, they released each prey they caught. They felt no hunger for food, only for relief this morning. In wolf form, it was easy to let worry melt away and enjoy the innately optimistic nature it offered. They had nearly lost track of time frolicking with a fawn when they noticed the orange sunlight creeping halfway up the horizon. With a whine and a yawn, they shook their thick coat and stretched their form lazily. They allowed themselves a quick roll in the dirt, and after a few playful sneezes as well as a friendly nuzzle against the fawn they'd been playing hide-and-seek with, they began their trek towards camp. For the first time since they'd embarked that morning, they took their time walking along the woods.

Everyone back at camp had woken and began packing their belongings, eating, and bickering once more. Vrisryn's wolf-heart panged with an urge to run away, to return to the solitude and comfort of the woods nearby; but their higher logic still won in spite of it. As they returned towards their belongings, Shadowheart caught sight of them first; and to Vrisryn's surprise, the cleric gasped, grasping at one of her hands suddenly and looking utterly... frightened.

Granted, Vrisryn did forget that not everyone was used to wild animals just walking up on them. They shook themselves out of the wild shape, lifting themselves from the dirt and brushing off the debris before locking eyes with a now very-relieved Shadowheart.

"Sorry - I forgot you hadn't seen me in that form yet. I always forget that most people are intimidated by the presence of wild animals," they contended.

Shadowheart threw her gaze up and to the side, thick plaits swaying behind her shoulder with the movement as she scowled.

"It's fine, though I almost sent an arrow your direction. Best warn me next time you intend to take such a form."

Vrisryn nodded, and moved towards their bag to organize their supplies for the day and begin planning what direction they would embark in next. Lae'zel was rushing them each to hurry up, and Astarion was complaining loudly about having to start traveling so early. Gale was barely awake yet, sleepily munching on food and seemingly tuning out all else.

It appeared it was going to be a long day indeed.

to be continued...

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav #bg3 tav fanfic #uhhh honestly i have NO idea how to tag this so LMAO #bg3 #vrisryn #my character #my writing #idk why i'm adding tags for anything other than my own blogs organization but i'm doin it anyways #bg3 vrisryn #^ usin that tag just incase something crazy happens n people actually read this or sumn lol #A/N this was extra fun to me bc the whole astarion confessing to being a vampire on the first long rest ACTUALLY fucking happened to me lma #A/N it was very clearly a glitch and happened on my reload (my og run w vris corrupted) but it humored me so much i finally was like #A/N alright fine i'll fucnk write this shit!!!! fine!!!!#A/N i've wanted to start actually posting my work about vris somewhere for a hot min now so i figured i might as well throw it here #A/N like ahhh yes a sideblog dedicated to vris the perfect place to infodump into the void #A/N who knows maybe one day someone other than me will read it too lol #A/N also i like the idea that lae'zel did actually notice that vris was like crying/distressed in their sleep #A/N but she ignored it thinking it was simply like a show of weakness and was disgusted by it rather than thinking it was the tadpoles LOL #my posts #spores and scars #spores and scars ch1

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