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yeehawbvby · 26 days

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FAWY Minis | Ch. 5 (Magnus Rasmodius POV)

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Notes: This one’s during the flower dance chapter, as well as 18 and 19!

I never really considered Magnus’ inner dialogue much, mostly just focusing on magicky stuff with him, so I wanted to play around with that. I feel like he’d be a bit insecure, maybe even anxious, when it comes to fitting in, romance, etc. He’s just good at hiding it. I tried to portray that a bit.

Btw, g/n = grandpa’s name. Wasn’t sure if y’all would want a named grandpa or to insert your own grandpa in there, so I kept it customizable to be safe!

I hope you enjoy x

[If you're new here - hi! Please see chapter 18 of the main story (below) for a visual reference to the wizard - I refer to a modded version throughout the fic!! I do recommend you read at least up to chapter 31 of the main story before reading this though, so as to avoid spoilers.]

Falling Away With You (main story)

Check it out on ao3!

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It’s her.

It’s… it’s actually her.

I’d overheard the discussion of a new resident moving onto Mooncrest during one of my periodic visits to Gus’ kitchen. I’d heard the assumptions — which I now know to be true, given her appearance — that it was going to be (g/n)’s granddaughter.

How could I not have foreseen how significant she would be to me, though?

Oftentimes the spirits give me somewhat of a hint, a little spark of my senses to let me know if something important is happening. Something worth looking into. Something like this, damn it. A wee reminder to not only be more aware of the world around me outside of my work, but to perhaps take the time and effort to foresee what’s to come in my near future.

I feel a subtle vibration in my fingers.

Are they toying with me? Is that what this is?

Feeling the zaps of their rebuttal through my limbs, I come to the conclusion that they are.

But… why wait..?

More tingling.

That was rhetorical, you obviously can’t answer m—

One last buzz, and I feel the spirits’ presence fade. Sigh.

Cheeky little phenomena, they are. I can only hope to ever commune with them in a plane of existence where we can see one another. For now… I might as well be a loon, telepathically speaking with invisible sprites that communicate through touch above all else.

…As though this scenario as a whole — now paying particular attention to not just my potential daughter, but my soulmate as well, all from a row of particularly bountiful bushes — makes me any less of a loon.

I shake the feeling that I’m being strange and that this is probably unnecessary , and I focus on the task at hand. I still am keen on determining whether or not I’ve any relation to Abigail. No use giving up now that I’m here.

My eyes flit to the girl, her hair as vibrant as my own. She’s laughing with her friends, tentatively sipping the punch I saw Pamela spiking with cheap liquor earlier.

I wish I could get close enough to see if there’s any bit of an arcane link connecting us. I desire answers, damn it, not to spend every chance I get contemplating my lineage while hiding just out of view.

I shut my eyes, rubbing them with a thumb and forefinger.

Just when I believe I can calm my high emotions, my mind wanders to another circumstance that’s haunted me for years. Not nearly as many, but I digress.

For Abigail to be friends with Sebastian was not exactly improbable, but it is funny, in an ironic way.

Of course Abigail would befriend my former apprentice. One I was rather fond of, at that.

I observe him for a moment. It’s rare to see him in anything brightly colored, aside from occasions such as this, where it’s a requirement. He looks quite handsome, if I do say so.

Is it silly of me to wonder if he’s ever thought the same of me? Is this just another instance of my insecurities controlling my thought process? Or is that a normal thing to think about, and I’ve merely forgotten, given how long it’s been since my last romantic endeavor?

That’s unimportant, I suppose.

Although… he must’ve had some reason for abruptly halting his apprenticeship with me.

Perhaps to him I was no more than some wretch living in a tower, far from Pelican Town’s main population for reasons unbeknownst to him. He could have asked, of course, but I wouldn’t exactly put it against him to keep his opinions to himself. I mean, look at me. I don’t resemble any of these townsfolk, do I? And of course here I am, spying on them rather than partaking in their activities firsthand, and I spend most of my time in my home when I could be out here socializing, and I’m sure my lack of socialization with non-elementals could be off-putting.

Sure, those who know of me don’t typically enjoy my presence, but…

I don’t know.

God. Now I’m a loon who’s spying and in a vicious pit of self-hatred that I buried myself in from the outskirts of the event.

Lovely.

Perhaps I should go… I’m not being very productive in my research anyway.

I chance one last look towards our newest farmer. I feel another tingle. A pull to her that’s far too tempting to succumb to. As though I want to just leap onto the field and say something to her. Anything.

How do I even go about getting closer to someone I’ve no reason to commune with? Marie worked at a shop, so it was quite easy to befriend her. The others… I had nary a clue where they were or what they were doing. This is an entirely new situation for me.

The farmer’s eyes flicker to mine. I feel the same thunderous commotion in my limbs and my belly as I did when Marie and I first met. God above, this girl has the same bright flush to her cheeks, the same gentle yet piercing gaze… which is… on me…

Oh.

Shit.

My eyes widen, as do hers.

She appears to be just as compelled to gravitate to me as I am to her. She takes half of a step forward before looking around at the townspeople and securing herself back in her corner. Thank goodness. If she were to come over here, it would only draw more suspicion as to why the resident recluse in the woods is staring at all these people…

“I know that look, Mag.”

I let gaze shift to Linus’ as his words resonate in my head and can practically feel my irises’ change of hue. I’ve been caught by him as well. Thank the spirits he’s a friend — he knows why I’m here.

“You do indeed.”

“So, (y/n), huh?”

Is that her name, then? It’s lovely…

“Yes,” I answer.

“Is it an attraction, or do you think she’s..?”

“Absolutely. Both.”

“Better get going before you freak her out, then.”

“As if I haven’t already, you know damn well she’s looking at me right now .”

He grins huffs out a silent chuckle before turning to face the dancers once more. “I’m just saying, you could be a tad bit more subtle, boy. Go.”

I sigh. I can still feel (y/n)’s eyes boring into me as I teleport back home, feeling morose rather than embarrassed.

Later in the evening, I succumb to my desire to more formally meet her and go through the lengthy, exhausting process of searching into the future.

I’m overjoyed to learn that she’ll come to me. That is far less pressure. It gives me time to prepare, too. To look more presentable, or clean, or… I don’t know. I know I can’t prevent the inevitable, but I don’t want to make the process unenjoyable for either of us, obviously.

When (y/n) eventually does arrive, I’m delighted to learn that not only is she an absolutely lovely being inside and out, but she’s magically inclined as well. I use this as a cover for her impulses to visit my tower:

“One may grow connected to the elements — hence, why you were so heavily drawn toward my abode over time,” I tell her.

It’s not entirely deceitful, and the last thing I want to do is scare her by proclaiming that our destiny brought us to this very moment.

I lean into being “old” and “wise” as well, referring to her and other townspeople of roughly her age as “young.” I overdo it though, I believe, as she calls me out on it. I don’t take any issue in revealing my true age given I’d likely be closer to her age — maybe a decade or so older — if I were a human.

I catch her staring a few times throughout our first meeting. I’ve no way to discern whether it’s due to attraction, or if she’s merely judging me, but it piques my curiosity either way. I probe her thoughts a few times for good measure — which (y/n) calls me out on as well, so I know now that I must show restraint. It’s mostly habitual, and I say that much. She understands.

She seems exceptionally sweet and caring. Awfully curious, for sure. A little strange too, but who am I to judge? I’m rather strange myself. And she’s funny, to boot, unless it’s my own giddiness leading me to assume so.

When she leaves, I’m sure to give her a proper send off. Perhaps it’s dramatic, but I’m inclined to believe she enjoys how eccentric this situation as a whole has been. She seemed awfully giddy herself, at times.

“There are many adventures ahead for you and I,” I project before she wanders too far. “I truly look forward to your company, (y/n).”

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