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asakiooi · 5 months

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Breaching the Boundaries of his Forbearance

Rasmodius x Reader

Wrote this at 12 am and finished around 3. Some things might not make sense cause of sleep deprivation.

Magnus’ tower door opened as soon as you reached the entrance. A familiar voice you have come to recognize rung out from the inside.

“Ah! Do come in. I was expecting your arrival as usual.”

The disembodied voice sounded a lot more cheerful today, you noted. Wondering if he had something good happen to him recently, you poked your head in and adjusted your vision to the much dimmer atmosphere of his tower.

Various lights of different colors floated above you as usual. It was an oddity of Magnus’ tower. When you asked about it he told you that it was the after effects of the experiments he preformed on a day to day basis.

Remembering that his form of work varied differently each day, you began to understand.

Trying not to distract yourself any further, you stepped into the tower fully and closed the door behind you while also brushing off any specks of dust on your clothes. You didn’t want to be seen with debris on you. The foyer provided plenty of space to prepare before you could see Magnus in his full form.

…

You felt your cheeks slightly heat up. Why were you going the extra mile to do this anyways?

“Ah, there you are. I was growing curious as to why you took so long to come in.” A masculine voice rang.

You shook in surprise when his voice entered your ears and looked up. Magnus stood leaning against the wall frame a bit of distance from you and had a face that held his usual stoicism, however your observant eye traced a faint curve at the end of his lips.

“Are you alright?” He asked with light concern.

For some reason, he shined a little more brightly today. Gulping down your previous fluster, you nodded.

Magnus chuckled softly and nodded back, now standing up straight and turning to the main room.

“Good to hear. Come now, I wish to show you something I have been studying on.” He beckoned. He really seemed much more vibrant than usual.

His footsteps thudded on the hardwood with you following close behind him. In just a few motions you were at the front of his work desk, a valuable asset to his research and studies.

Strewn across the wooden table were herbs and papers filled with diagrams of a strange plant. You didn’t recognize it.

Magnus reached his hand out to a particular plant that matched the diagrams and held it to you with a tilted head.

“Have you seen these before?”

You shook your head.

Magnus smiled and brought it closer to him. His eyes were studying the plant while also twirling the herb in his fingers, there was a hint of proudness in his face that you were growing fond of.

“These are called spirit poke. It is an unusual and rare plant that grows within the valley. Once in a few decades, flowers bloom from the shrubs and give off powerful effects when consumed. It is a result of the mixing energies from the spirits.” He explained.

You nodded your head along listening closely. It brought you happiness when he went rambling on about his work to you.

“I have been studying these herbs for decades now. They are only native to this valley and haven’t been observed as much, as the previous protector of the valley never took an interest in them.” Magnus told you, putting the herb back onto the table.

He looked at you again with the same smile. His eyes held a glimmer that only you could recognize something akin to joy.

“Today, I have discovered something new with them. If I apply the right formula to a potion alongside this flower, perhaps I may be able to commune with a different type of spirit that I have never come across before.”

You smiled and nodded to his explanation as he went on and on. You didn’t mind, no, not at all.

After all, it seemed that he was always happy to share whatever information he could with you. It was something you had come to expect in your friendship now that you were closer to him.

Just a little bit, Magnus reminds you of a cat who proudly comes back with its hunt, dropping it right in front of you and expecting praise.

Perhaps this was what he was expecting?

Your own chuckle rang through your head. No way, right?

“-If I could acquire some from Castle Village then maybe-“ Magnus paused. His eyes were cast on your face.

A mischievous smile played on your expression. You opened your mouth and spoke to him with a tone of endearment, praise seeping out from your lips like it was easy to give.

Naturally, he was caught off guard.

“You… I-“ Magnus stammered.

He looked away for a moment then returned his gaze to you, clearing his throat.

“T-thank you… for the kind words. I usually don’t have anyone to share this to, as most would be fine with a simple report instead of a long winded explanation.” He said with his eyes glimmering for a short second. The surface of his skin began to deepen in color.

You felt butterflies in your stomach. You weren’t expecting him to react like this.

“And so when I found myself gathering an abundance of these flowers… I was hoping to share them with you. You often venture down the mines, correct?” Magnus asked, an obvious attempt to recover his standing.

He grabbed a spare shrub nearby and held it close, deciding to focus his eyes on it instead.

“You may not need them for communicating with spirits but…” He trailed off, eyes still averted and not on you.

For some reason it egged you on.

You walked closer to him, a breath away. You could almost feel his hitched sigh hit your face from above. A hesitance grew in his voice.

Your eyes moved, his tall form making you raise your head up just to meet him. He gulped quickly and turned his head to the side.

“Um.” Magnus started, backing up slightly.

He was at a loss for words. And this made you feel even more impish.

You stepped forward where he once stood.

“You…-!“ He stepped back again, his face now looking at you with bewilderment and flush. This time he made a larger effort to distance himself.

But you didn’t relent.

You moved forward with the same amount of stride he took back.

Magnus didn’t say anything and surprisingly took a bigger step backwards until-

Thud.

You could see him tilting backwards without control, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

A rushing feeling filled your body to catch him, only for you to trip against the books on the floor that he had also, much to his current dismay, tripped on.

Thud.

…

You were sure black spots dispersed around your vision.

The world was spinning. Your hands hurt from hitting the wooden floor in attempt to stop your fall. The sound of chicks chirping in the coop rang in your ears like a memory as you tried to gather your bearings.

But before you thought of anything else-

“Urgh…” A vibrating rumble from under you bemoaned.

Your eyes hit wide open as soon as you remembered where you were. On who you fell on.

Swiftly and quickly you used your sore palms to raise your upper body up and looked down.

And there he was. Magnus was strewn on the floor with his eyes closed and expression resembling only you could imagine as discomfort and pain. Strands of his hair had fallen on his face, adorning the flush on his skin that you couldn’t tell was either from the fall or your whims.

To your horror, his eyelids fluttered open. His vision landed on you dazingly. Magnus blinked as if he couldn’t remember why he was there in the first place.

Without a moment to spare you used your hands to spring yourself up and landed on your bum. Your face was heated like crazy, a feeling you thought you’d never undergo again since school days.

Magnus kept his repose for a moment, dots mentally envisioned in his head. Then he sat up with great energy and stared directly at you.

His cheeks flushed darkly. The way his mouth looked like it wanted to say something but didn’t caught your attention. Sweat dribbled behind your back.

Maybe you shouldn’t have teased him after all.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You didn’t plan on having this much effect on him. Yet, when you looked into his purple eyes that had a unfamiliar scarlet in them, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe…

He felt something for you.

Your feet worked quicker than your brain. Rising up, you quickly strung a long list of apologies to him and started making your way towards the door.

Magnus couldn’t even respond due to your insistence in apologizing.

By the time you reached the foyer, you rushed to the door and sprinted out, making sure to close the tower door behind you.

Magnus looked at the door ahead of him. Then back to his lap.

A silence permitted through his tower.

He… didn’t know what to make out of this.

He really didn’t.

But before he could move and get up, a flash of a the white shrub caught his attention.

Spirit poke.

His fingers carelessly went to grab the stem tenderly, as to not break it.

Magnus raised the flower close to his lips, grazing only the surface of the petals with his breath.

“…”

“You forgot the flowers…”

#stardew rasmodius #stardew valley x reader #rasmodius x reader #m. rasmodius #sve magnus #sdv wizard #sdv rasmodius #sdv rrrr #sve wizard #Rasmodius #help meeee I wrote this until I couldn’t #rrrr #Romanceable Rasmodius redux revamped

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yeehawbvby · 4 months

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Falling Away With You | Ch. 48

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Y/n goes a little apeshit at JojaMart lmao

Author’s Note: *Crawls out of a pit covered in dirt and blood. Slaps this chapter down in front of you, on a SUNDAY no less!*

My health situation hasn’t improved whatsoever, but I will prevail, damnit!!

I wrote most of this and posted to ao3 early this morning, and haven't had a chance to proofread really. I'll do my best to get that done soon ^.^ Sorry if there are any weird wordings. Also sorry for the complete lack of Seb and Magnus in this one, I hope the shenanigans make up for it <3

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

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I hate that stupid, cryptic, blue note I got.

Ever since it came, I think about it every time I check the mailbox, without fail. I don’t want to, I kinda just want to forget it exists, but I just… I dunno. I have a bad feeling about it. A gut feeling. Like, something’s totally up with it. It’s just been sitting in my closet for safekeeping until I decide what to do, though.

For some reason, I’ve been too nervous to bring it back up to Magnus. He’s forgotten it exists, from what I can tell. I think I’ll do my best to keep it that way for now. It feels more like my burden to bear than his, and besides, he’s already got the whole region to take care of.

After today’s confirmation that I don’t have bills or anything important like that, I head inside to get ready to leave the farm. Reeeally hoping my routine will shake out my heebiejeebies.

I got the OK from Magnus to use his fancy shrine for Spirit’s Eve. Got an idea of what I think I want to make myself look like, too. Maybe a tiefling or something. If tieflings don’t really exist, I’m sure some sort of succubi, or imps, or some sort of creature that looks like one’s gotta, no? I suppose I could always fall back on just pretending I’m an elf… man, a tail and horns would be so fun though.

Either way, tomorrow is the big day and I am so ready for it.

I mean, like, almost ready. Whatever.

Today I’m going to Magnus’ place to get some practice in. Just a precautionary measure to try not to, like, blow myself up or something.

I’m gonna keep my outfit cozy and easy to move around in, but I have half a mind to make sure I wouldn’t mind losing these clothes in particular if something goes wrong with the transformation. Just some leggings, some crew-cut socks, an old hoodie, and my favorite boots, since I won’t have my shoes on in the shrine anyway. All of it is in black. Sebastian cosplay.

I’ll pop my red studs in too, gotta commit to the bit. I haven’t had time to talk to The Emo and see if he actually did get his shit pierced last night, but assuming he did, and assuming he was able to use these for it, I wanna go all out, baby.

Now, before I head to the tower, I’ve got some errands to run around town. I woke up a bit late so there’s gonna be more people out than I’m looking forward to, but hopefully I have no creepy Alex encounters or awkward conversations with Shane again.

I promised Sam I’d visit him at work sometime soon, so I might as well head there first. He hates it there, and it’s been a while since we’ve caught up, so I’ll hopefully be a welcome distraction. I’ll bring him a coffee too to keep his spirits high.

After it’s done brewing, I grab two foam cups and pour the coffee in. Knowing Sam, he probably needs this stuff sweet, and I’m in the mood for sweet too, so I pour in a bunch of vanilla-flavored creamer. To make the beverages ~gourmet,~ I add a little whipped cream to each, as well as a light drizzle of chocolate syrup. After securing the plastic lids and giving Cannoli some well-deserved love, I head out.

While I pass by the bus stop, I make eye contact with Pam. I’ve never spoken to her, but… I dunno. I can’t tell if I like her or not. She gives me a nasty stink eye and I can only further assume she’s as mean as she outwardly appears. Unless she was just cursed with an intense resting bitch face...

I smile Pam’s way anyway. She doesn’t smile back, but that’s okay. It doesn’t benefit anyone to be so judgemental of her.

I pass a few local moms once I make it to the town square. None really mind me, which could mean they either didn’t notice, or they don’t care. Either is fine by me. I don’t hear what they’re saying, but Caroline talks very animatedly just before the rest of the group bursts into laughter.

I turn my attention back ahead as I pass by Pierre’s and nearly bump into Marnie as she’s leaving the shop.

We both squeak out a little “Oh!” before apologizing in unison.

“I wasn’t really paying attention,” I double down.

“Oh, that’s fine. I rarely ever am!” She then motions to the two cups in my hands and adds, laughing, “At least the coffee’s safe!”

I awkwardly nod in agreement. Then, a brief flash of myself actually spilling coffee somewhere down the road raids my mind, my necklace tingling against my skin and my fingers practically buzzing.

Great.

“Everything alright, sweetie?”

That probably looked weird. “Yeah, sorry,” I try to recover, “just sleepy today!”

I take a sip of coffee to emphasize my point. Plus, I might as well drink what I can before these puppies go down. Hopefully I’ll be able to save at least one of them when the time comes.

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that!” She puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I need to get back to the shop, but take it easy and don’t overwork yourself, you hear?”

I nod, thanking her and waving her off with a shy grin before I continue moving. Once I get closer to the spot I’m supposed to be spilling these drinks — just before that little bridge over the river by JojaMart — I begin to walk more cautiously. If I can just keep these steady and focus on the ground…

A sneeze creeps up on me. Oh god. Oh god oh fuck oh no.

Just as I’m beginning to carefully place one of the cups on the side of the bridge for safe keeping, the sneeze forces its way out of me. Luckily, one beverage — the one I hadn’t drank from yet — stays safely in my hand. Unluckily, the one I was working on trying to keep safe fell to the stones at my feet, opening up and dispersing its contents fucking everywhere.

God damnit.

“Nice one.”

God fucking damnit.

I look up to the voice. It turns out Shane’s outside having a smoke. He’s at the opposite end of the bridge watching my clumsiness unfold with an aloof look about him. He’s bent over to lean on the stone wall, his right elbow propped up and his corresponding cheek in his palm. His left forearm is flat against the structure while his left hand lazily dangles his cigarette between two fingers.

Is that pink nail polish on one of them? I wonder if that’s Jas’ doing.

I merely groan back my response, picking up the now-empty cup to discard in the trash bin near the store. As I proceed on my walk of shame past Shane, I point out, “At least my clothes stayed safe.”

Shane follows and asks, “How many ants do you think you murdered with that accident?”

I grin a little at his dry humor. “Oh it was a massacre,” I bounce back. “The war in Gotoro pales in comparison.”

“Ha!” Oh my god, I made Shane — the grumpiest fuck I’ve ever met — laugh?! “Right on. Seems like pointless violence anyway.”

I turn to see if I can catch him smiling for the first time, like, ever. It’s not there anymore, but there’s a residual brightness in his features.

Shane snuffs out his cig on the ashtray built into the garbage’s lid, abandoning it there before shoving his hands in the pockets of his bright blue shorts.

“Those sons’a bitches,” he nods in the direction of my carnage, “they had it coming.”

My nose scrunches as I laugh a little, giving him a funny look. “Damn, what’d they do to you?”

There’s a playful glint in his eye, as he deadpans me. “Exist.”

I shrug and nod — I get it, they can be pretty annoying! — and follow the man as he makes his way through the white-rimmed, glass-centered automatic doors. I try not to cringe outwardly at how many self-righteous pro-Joja fliers are on them.

Shane stops a few steps into the store. Turns around. I stop too and look up, tilting my head. What’re you looking at, punk? I think to myself. Dunno if I’d be pushing my limits by trying to say it out loud. Better not.

Shane gives me a weird look too, but I can barely see it. My senses are taking their damn time getting used to the obnoxiously fluorescent lighting.

“Don’t you shop at Pierre’s?” Shane wonders out loud.

I blink a few times as I adjust to the environment and then nod. “Visiting Sam,” I explain.

“Ah.” He nods too, in understanding, and then looking the other way he continues, “Enjoy.”

Shane makes his way towards a door to the right of the manager’s office. Says “Employee’s only,” so I’m assuming it’s a break room or something. I don’t miss the incorrect apostrophe, but choose not to linger on it either.

“You too.” He looks back over his shoulder, so I pair my well wishes with a lazy salute.

“Buh.”

…Buh?

I smile. I think he’s warming up to me!

Feeling a tad lost now that I’m alone, I look around before making any advances. Should’ve asked Shane if he knew where Sam would be around now. I dunno how the shifts work around here.

The cashiers to my left — a visibly exhausted red headed woman, probably in her late 30s or early 40s; and a scrawny, scruffy looking teenager, with thick-framed glasses sitting atop his freckled nose — both look miserable.

The boy is boredly leaning against the counter, zoned out on the ground in front of it. The woman looks totally spaced out on nothing in particular. It almost seems like she’s fighting off sleep, too. Poor lady.

The woman and I lock onto each other. She looks away from my face before I can even register it, but I notice her eyes flicker longingly to the coffee cup in my hand a few times after the fact. I peer between her and the beverage twice before I all but scurry away into the aisles. I’m too awkward for this. My only option is to retreat. Never said I wasn’t a coward.

While I venture past the boatloads of boxed, bagged and canned foods in search of the resident dog boy, I observe some of the products. Some don’t look safe for consumption, while others seem like they’d be fun to try as a one-off sort of deal. It overlaps a few times as well. I mean, why wouldn’t I want to try this cereal which very explicitly states on the box that it’s more sugar than grains? It makes me stifle a giggle. I like the brutal honesty.

I stop and stare at it for a sec. Gnawing my lip. Wondering if I should just…

No. I shan’t.

I break away from temptation and trek on. As I reach the end of the aisle, I pan across the back of the store. More shelf-stable products, a small produce section… ah!

Sam looks like he’s supposed to be mopping the floor near the freezers. To be fair, he is holding a mop, and it is touching the floor! But instead of cleaning, he uses the tool as a microphone; singing against the end of the brown wooden handle, both hands passionately gripping it as he bends his torso to quietly belt one part in particular. Sam’s eyes are shut, his bulky black headphones are secured over his ears, and he has not a single worry in the world.

Holding his coffee in both hands now, I stop walking and lean against a nearby shelf. Observing. Waiting. Eventually he’ll have to see me.

He does a little spin move and carelessly bumps into the bucket of soapy water he’s working with, causing it to slosh around a little. Some of it lands on the floor, and some on the pants of Sam’s jumpsuit. Doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

He does another spin the opposite way and nearly knocks over the conveniently placed display of sprinkles that are situated right in front of the ice cream freezer.

I feel like I should probably stop him before something bad happens, but he looks so damn content and so stinkin’ cute that I can’t be assed.

Just as I’m thinking this, he opens his eyes, completely avoiding my direction while he immediately peers over his shoulder. Sam scans around, getting a full view of the proximate areas. It seems like he’s just making sure he’s not about to get caught by his boss or something, if I had to guess.

Eventually he lands on me. We both smile wide, and I triumphantly hold up his (unspilled!!) coffee in one hand, presenting it with a small flourish of the other and a bow of my head.

“For you, my good sir.” I make sure to sound extra fancy, dropping my voice an octave and annunciating my words a bit too much.

He looks around again before meeting me in the middle with a fist bump, completely ignoring my bit. Aw man.

“Hell yeah, thanks dude!”

I shoot some awkward finger guns at him, “You got it, bud.”

“You didn’t make yourself one?”

I sigh, lamenting, “I did…”

Sam scans my face as we share a short silence. Then, the lightbulb almost visibly goes off in his noggin. “You spilled it, didn’t you?”

Pursing my lips, I nod. “I spilled it, yeah.”

“Buuummer, dude.” He pats my head and I sigh, leaning into his touch. I’ll be damned if I don’t still love head-pats, even if it’s been a while since I’ve gotten one. “Wanna split this one then?” he offers, palm still on my crown. At this point he’s just trying to messy me up.

“No thanks, I’ll just grab another later if I’m really craving it.” Not having noticed the trance I’ve been in as my hair gets slowly and steadily ruined — it feels nice, okay? — I finally look up at him, cheekily glaring as I manually remove his large hand from me. I add on as I try to repair the frizzy aftermath, “Sick performance, by the way!”

“You think so?” he beams. Makes me laugh.

“Of course! It looked like you were having a lot of fun.”

Sam’s face is a bit flushed as he takes the compliment, not even trying to hide it; he has a big goofy grin on his face, too.

It drops and Sam looks behind him as a deep voice with a bit of a southern twang booms from one of the aisles nearby. “Samson?”

“Shit, here.”

Sam hurriedly places his coffee into my hand and rushes back near his water bucket, looking around for his manager as he moves. I try to make things less suspicious by pretending to look at some nearby end caps.

I take a peek over when I hear Sam greet the man, “Hiya! What’s up, Morris?”

Crossing his arms and puffing out his chest to try and make himself look mighty, a man in a navy blue suit, a bright red bow tie, and a poorly-applied black toupee corrects him. “That’s Mr. Saxton, son.”

I roll my eyes. Awesome to know the guy running this Joja is just as insufferable as the dudes who work on the corporate side.

Sam puts an anxious hand on the back of his neck, and halfheartedly smiles as he apologizes, his speaking patterns much more formal than before. Poor guy… it hurts to see him having to tone it down so much for this dipshit.

I turn my attention back in front of me so as to give him some privacy. Not sure he’d want me to hear him getting his ear talked off.

This display is full of holiday cards... I might as well waste some time with these bad boys. I pick up one with a cartoon beagle wearing a birthday hat on it, stealing a sip of Sam’s coffee as I read the pun on the front: “Have a doggone good birthday!” Alright, nice and cheesy start…

I flip the card open. It starts blaring Baha Men’s “Who Let The Dogs Out.” Fucking hell. Jumpscare me, why doncha! I shudder at how tinny the music sounds — likely made worse by its volume — then close the card and place it back in its spot, not bothering to read more.

“Excuse me, miss?”

I peer over my left shoulder, and see that Mr. Saxton is making his way towards me. A vein is popping in his forehead, but he has a toothy smile on his face that screams customer service. Not sure what’s going on and feeling a little anxious about the situation, I don’t answer with words — I just turn my body to him and watch him expectantly.

My eyes flicker to Sam real quick, who’s closer to the opposite end of the freezers now. He’s looking over here though, and when his eyes catch mine, he mouths “Go!” and motions his arm towards the front end of the store. Maybe he got caught socializing or something… wouldn’t doubt that there’s probably heavy surveillance in here. Man.

I look back at Sam’s boss as he says, “I’m going to need you to discard your beverage.”

My brows furrow and I tilt my head. “Why?”

Ah, he’s the asking-questions-is-talking-back type: He huffs a deep breath and tilts his head as if to mimic me, clasping his fingers together in front of his ribs. The smile and vein are both still on his face.

“It is not only unacceptable to bring your own food into a grocery store,” he strains, “but I cannot have you spilling your drink all over our products.”

…I haven’t spilled anything. What does he think I am, some crusty little kid?

Damn, this is bringing out a rage that I haven’t experienced since working behind a Joja desk. I didn’t know I was even capable of it anymore. Must be something about the overstimulatingly bright blues, or the blindingly white strips of lights. Same ones we had above each cubicle in the office.

My anxiety is rapidly replaced with a petty yearn to cause a ruckus as I realize that I don’t work for Joja anymore. I never have to even come here again, actually.

I don’t answer to this fucko! I don’t answer to anyone!

Screw this guy!

Feeling courageous, I put on my own customer service mask as I inquire, “Do you want me to spill this on your products?”

“E-excuse me?!”

I hover the cup near the cards, tilting it a little. Doing a little eyebrow wiggle too for good measure. “It feels like you dooo.”

“I— w-what are you doing?”

Seb would be so proud if he were here. Not sure how Magnus would react, but I’d like to imagine he’d support me too.

Completely on impulse, I bring the cup in front of me and splash a little coffee in the man’s direction instead of the cards’. The now-lukewarm liquid splatters onto the white button-down beneath his jacket and rapidly seeps into the fabric, leaving a light brown, unsightly splotch.

Sick, got him where it hurts and none got on the floor! Less work for Sam!

Making sure my voice is just as cheery as Morris was trying to keep his, I cap this off, “Stop treating your employees like crap and stop treating complete strangers like children, asshole.”

This feels so good. My heart is racing and my pits feel a little moist and I might just end up an anxious mess the second I walk away, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t cool as fuck in the moment. When Leah asked me last week if Magnus ever wanted to go apeshit, it didn’t even occur to me how badly I wanted to go apeshit.

I walk down the nearest aisle as Morris continues sputtering something about me leaving, paying for this, whatever.

Shane’s kneeled down in the middle of the aisle stocking shelves. He faces me for a moment and grins slyly. “That was cool as hell.” Why does this feel so validating? “A woman after my own heart.”

HUH?

I blink that fucking flashbang away — seriously, the last time I saw him he was still being a dick, and today he’s treating every interaction like we’re fully acquainted, if not more, what the heck — as he turns away to scan items onto the shelf again.

“I really didn’t do much…” I really didn’t. Just kinda caused a minor inconvenience for the guy.

My hands are shaking though, so it must be catching up to me.

“That still took some balls.” He glimpses at me briefly and adds, “Y’look like you might cry, though. Get outta here before I change my mind about you.”

I huff out a quiet laugh and steady Sam’s — well, my, now — coffee in both hands. “On it, boss.”

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