#lore writes too perhaps
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Nothing's Wrong with Dale: Part Seventeen
It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.
However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.
Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F
AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Chapter 17 - MoonshineNightlight - Original Work [Archive of Our Own]
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] Part Seventeen [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two] [Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]
“My lady,” you hear Grandfather say from somewhere behind you. Bracing yourself, you resist the urge to turn around and instead prepare for another uncomfortable conversation.
Grandfather has managed to invite—or find those already invited—anyone who has the remotest affiliation with the study of the Depths or herblore or spiritual matters and promptly introduced you. He then pays particularly close attention throughout the conversation to you and them. You think he’s hoping someone more versed in such things might be able to sense or notice something about you or Dale that will prove his theory about some sort of demonic influence affecting you correct.
Luckily, none have acted odd so far—that you could tell. Instead it just makes for sudden, very nerve-wracking conversations where you feel more than ever like you are on a stage, performing. You dislike galas and balls and such already—these new examinations are not helping, except that occasionally after one, the rest of the event feels far less tense than before in comparison. At least Grandfather doesn’t seem to be preparing these individuals ahead of time with his suspicions.
Also, to be fair, Grandfather seems to have pulled back with his other methods of detection. There have been no more overly spiced meals or suspicious flower arrangements—baring the first ball in Connton which had been covered in white roses. Dale thankfully continues to give no signal he knows either of you are being tested, but he’d managed to smoothly tuck a flower in your hair. Your blush at such an obvious display just to show the flowers lack of effect had hopefully helped sell it. Dale even pricked himself on a thorn to show it had no poisonous effects to himself and demonstrate his blood is still red. You think you’re the only one to notice that his bandage is removed only three days later—and that it was on the wrong finger for the last day.
You’ve gotten this far though. One more conversation won’t be the end of it all, you try to remind yourself. You turn with a polite smile on your face to see Grandfather walking towards you with a sanctif at his side. You hope your face doesn’t give away your sudden apprehension at being confronted with an actual spiritual leader. The white and red robes mark him as likely the High Sanctif for all of Connton. Also, he’s older than Grandfather, which doesn’t bode particularly well either.
While the spiritual colleges in the north in recent years have moved in a more scientific direction—away from philosophy—the more older and southern sanctifs are far more likely to preach anything associated with the Depths as inherently dangerous, rather than something to be understood.
Which is probably why Grandfather is helping this sanctif into the seat next to you.
“His Illuminance, Ellon of Connton has found the time to join us for the next course,” Grandfather says as he sits down opposite you. This particular feast has many courses, with seating on various tiered daisies each with five or so smaller tables, between which guests are encouraged to switch seats so that all may socialize—within their daisies, of course. You’ve ended up staying primarily where you are as there has been no shortage of companions, as had Dale.
However, as it is nearly time for the next course, it appears he’s staying down with the transportation officials—a pity because you had wished to talk to them as well and there is no longer enough room for all of them. Perhaps it is a good thing because you doubt this sanctif is going to have anything particularly good to say. At least Grandmother has also been pulled away by some magistrates or she would no doubt make matters worse.
You nod politely to the sanctif. “Greetings, your Illuminance. How are you doing this evening?”
“Greetings to you as well,” he replies, his voice is stronger and brisker than you expect given his age and the distracted way he has already begun searching for the wine jug.
Once his eyes land on the jug, he reaches for it, but is at a bad angle for him to pick up well, so you stand up yourself. “Please, allow me to assist you.”
“My thanks, my thanks,” he says, sitting back as you pour him a glass of wine, then one for Grandfather, since he is also new to the table. A cousin of Dale’s to your left still has half a glass and so does one of his aunts.
You start to relax when only polite small talk is made while everyone else begins to settle into their seats. You’re happy to discuss the weather and food as many times as you need to because at least you don’t feel like you’re going to say the wrong thing.
It doesn’t last though.
“So, where do you hail from, my child?” Ellon asks as he butters a roll from the ever-refilling baskets on the table, the knife making a scraping sound against the butter dish which you try not to wince at.
Swallowing down your inappropriate offer to prepare it for him yourself just so the noise will stop, you tell him, “My family fief is Portsmith and with the bay of Glittany.” Glittany is what most have heard of when it comes to your family since it is the name of the bay and the major seaport city. Most barely are aware of the name of the fief it resides in.
Ellon seems to have heard of it, but, given the skeptical huff he lets out at the name, not positively. “Those that live on the seas court death, if you ask me.” You most assuredly had not, but you didn’t think he much cared if you had. “The Depths are most clearly expressed there, below those treacherous waves. Even close to the shore, it can steal the unwary away far too easily.”
You knew there was a certain amount of superstition about the deep waters among some, but while all those who worked on the seas had a healthy respect for the sea, none blamed the Depths. Biting your tongue so you didn’t mention that the places in the world where the border was thinnest were primarily above solid ground, you merely say, “I am certainly no sailor, though I admire the bravery of those who are.”
He wags his finger, looking over his thick spectacles at you. “Mark my words, even living for so long with that salt air is dangerous. Why the great scholar and sanctif, Malarby of Airs said that those along the shore twice as likely to be taken than those who do not.”
You again refrain from saying that the scholar he speaks of had numerous critics during his own time, let alone now. At least, Grandfather seems skeptical of this claim, but it's also obvious he’s watching for your response more than anything. “My understanding is that the Glittany sacred community has procedures and safeguards in place to limit any such influences, however, I admit that I did not grow up in the city. I was not often well as a child and so grew up on our country estate, which is more than a day’s ride inland.”
“Yes,” Ellon agrees loud enough you flinch at his volume. “It is truly heartening to hear that some physicians know the healing air that can only come away from the watery death that surrounds us. Country air is not as fortifying or pure as mountain air, but I am sure that it was the best for you.” He pats your hand in what you assume he believes is a comforting manner and resist the urge to pull away. “We must find balance between keeping our family, our connections, with us in times of struggle and finding a truly blessed location where we can heal—as far from the physical negative influences as possible.”
“I do believe it was a far calmer environment to be in and my physicians were all very skilled,” you reply, not wanting to touch on his spiritual opinions. Were they more than opinions if they were from a sanctif? Regardless, you know the Glittany santifs didn’t talk like this, probably because they actually live and work next to the sea. You would pay money if this man had ever even been on a boat—or that he had and had simply immediately gotten seasick.
“I was not aware the sea was so treacherous beyond the literal dangers it presents,” Grandfather observes mildly, likely not wanting this topic to die when it is so close to where he likely wants it to go.
Unfortunately, that is all that Ellon needs as encouragement to continue in this vein. “Of course, anywhere the veil between the realms is a danger—whether man-made or natural. And while it is one folly to invite demons in yourself, it is another folly to go where they thrive. The chances of being taken in by such beings, of bringing home those who have stolen away, are far greater on the waters than on the land.”
Ellon is clearly enjoying the captive audience he has and you while you don’t believe any of this nonsense—you’d still rather he talk about the dangers of oceans than anything else related to the Depths. Without him asking, you refill his wine glass for him.
He nods his thanks with a smile and seems to really warm up to the topic, his voice growing a touch more theatrical as he says, “Beyond the threat of death from such supernatural dangers, there is the general threat of death from the natural. With that, there is the metaphysical danger which haunts these vessels. Many bodies are lost at sea, falling below those frigid waves—it is a far harder journey for the soul to ascend after death. Many no doubt, do not reach the light.”
Grandfather blinks at Ellon, clearly taken aback by this turn. “…I see.” From your observations, Grandfather does not have much interest or patience for the philosophical nor the spiritual, to your understanding, until recently. While spiritualists often warn against the Depths, Grandmother’s motivations and grudges seem to primarily come from a literal danger perspective, given the way demons and such influences have been used for violence—not hypothetical dangers to the soul.
“Are you saying that after death the soul can be held down by water?” a polite but skeptical voice interjects. You turn to see that Francesca, one of Dale’s cousins, has decided to join your conversation.
Ellon looks surprised by her question, but rallies quickly enough. “It is not the material involved but the distance, the fact that one is already below.”
“Then would not miners be similarly endangered?” she asks, raising one eyebrow up quizzically.
You know she hasn’t specifically joined the conversation to help you out, but you can’t help but feel like she has and it warms you to her. You are an adequate debater when prepared and a hesitant one when unprepared.
Ellon frowns at her argument, pursing his lips. “A miner can be brought up by his fellow workers and still cremated.”
Francesca hums, leaning back in her chair consideringly. “Is cremation truly so necessary? I know it is best practice, but I thought it was primarily for those left behind.”
“No, no,” he says, his mouth a grim line. “It is for both, the living and the deceased. The soul can be trapped if the body is not taken care of properly.”
“I see,” she replied, for all it’s very clear to you she’s still skeptical. “I was unaware that the body could become such a cage to the soul after death. I thought it was taught that death itself is what releases the soul from the body.”
That causes the sanctif to bristle. He make a show of frowning thoughtfully and drinking some more wine before grudgingly admitting, “Well, yes, that is the primary mechanism. And if there were no Depths, cremation would likely be unnecessary. However, given that there are forces working to keep a soul from ascending, we must do all we can to aid the deceased on their journey.”
“Pardon me,” you turn to see Francesca’s husband leaning towards you as well. “Are you proposing that denizens of the Depths or perhaps even the realm of the Depths itself can reach out to consume the souls of those born here based on location or method of death alone?”
“Of course not,” Ellon blusters, cheeks turning a bit red, “but the effect such things have on the soul are undeniable, beyond ill deeds weighing a soul down.”
“Actually, a recent paper from the Rokea Institute has called that into question,” Francesca says. “According to the scholars—”
“You trust one scholar over thousands of years of spiritual practice?” Ellon asks, his tone a mix of condescension and offense. “Scholars these days think they can measure and categorize and label each phenomenon they encounter and the second something cannot be so neatly sorted they fit it in where it does not belong, ignoring contradictory evidence. Rokea is among the worst for encouraging this type of thinking. Even the thinkers out of the Ha are more reliable in these modern times.”
Before anyone else could interject, he continues, “They decry hundreds of years of carefully documented experience, only relying on what they and peers they deem worthy have personally seen. They waste time questioning fact and reinventing the parts of the past they personally approve of to claim that knowledge as their own new discovery.
“Not to mention the poison seeping into the Vaomen universities.” That seems to be more what Grandfather, and you, were expecting rather than a spiritual debate about the nature of souls. “What used to be sole bastions of rational thought against their poor country’s perverse deal with the Depths has fallen to its influence rather than the reverse. They push aside safeguards and time-tested tools to allow demons full citizenship. How many times much a school, a city, a nation fall to those beasts and devils before this world learns its lessons?”
Francesca’s gaze darts to her Grandfather, likely fully aware of his and her grandmother’s opinions. As he does not look particularly upset, she cautiously says, “I’ve heard of no recent incidents at their colleges.”
Ellon scoffs. “Of course you haven’t. They are too arrogant, too proud to let such truths out into the world where they would be recriminated for their folly in front of all other accomplished and rational thinkers. They keep any word of failures and dangers to themselves unless they can be justified sufficiently. The deans of such institutions have fallen to their own pride and hubris—mark my words.”
The only good part of all this talk is that even Grandfather is beginning to look aggrieved, as though—perhaps—he might regret having sought out this specific sanctif, for all he’s certainly anti-demon. Grandfather is no believer in conspiracies, thank the light.
“I have always held that any interaction with the Depths is inherently dangerous to the soul even when my contemporaries disagreed,” Ellon puffs up as he says so, clearly proud of going against popular opinion in this and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “To see the world move so firmly in the wrong direction is disheartening, even with bastions of true spiritual stalwartness such as Northridge attempting to keep our country secure from incursions from Below.”
Both of Francesca’s eyebrows raise at that particular choice of words and she exchanges a suppressed but amused glance with her husband.
“Certainly proper precautions must be taken,” you take the time to say, hoping to move the sanctif away from more vehement proclamations. It also can’t hurt Grandfather’s impression of you to say the things you do believe. Just because matters have worked out, does not mean that they could easily not have. “Those who remove safeguards are truly foolish and we can only hope their lapses do not endanger more than themselves.”
The original Dale put his entire home in danger with whatever plans he had and you have no doubt he ignored safety measures as unnecessarily limiting, just given your assessment of his nature up to that point.
“Precisely,” Ellon nods with a smile for you. “Demonic influences are more common than anyone would like to admit and so one must be persistently wary and alert.” He punctuates this with raps on the table—luckily not nearly hard enough to knock anything over, though your hand automatically goes to your glass all the same. “The number of easy, necessary, precautions the everyman does not bother with is astounding. Of course, I must be even more careful, given my position as a person of faith and a lighthouse to others.
“Oh?” You don’t think he’ll need much more than that to continue. It's clear Francesca and her husband have lost true interest in what he has to say, writing him off as an eccentric. You can only hope their skepticism inspires Grandfather’s own. They’ve turned to talk to the companions on their other sides—unfortunately with two empty seats still on the sanctif’s and Grandfather’s other sides, there is no such easy diversion for you.
You’ve never been more relieved to see plates of fish being brought out in your life. Unfortunately, that relief is quickly dwarfed by the nerves that spring up to see Dale making his way over to you with a lady—bound for the openings still at your table.
“Yes, yes,” Ellon says, snapping your attention back to him. “Take meals for instance. I shall demonstrate as it is easily one of the times people feel most comfortable and yet are at their most vulnerable.” He begins digging in his pockets while Dale gestures the woman with him to the seat next to Grandfather.
As Dale takes the seat next to Ellon, introductions fly around—the lady is some sort of minister for Connton—and the sanctif’s is primarily distracted, but still polite. Dale gives no hint of nervousness at being introduced to a sanctif which is a good sign and—Ellon gives no indication he knows he’s just been introduced to a demon possessing a lord, so that’s good as well.
“Sanctif Ellon,” Grandfather says to the two latecomers, “would like to show us a device for…what was it again? Detecting poison or demonic influences of some kind?”
“Yes, quite right—both,” he says without looking up from his search. Dale goes a bit still at Grandfather’s words, but you think it is only because you are paying attention that you even notice it. Unfortunately, Grandfather is paying attention too. Still he’s further away from Dale so perhaps he didn’t.
“Here we are,” Ellon finally pulls whatever he has been looking for out of his robes. He seems to be brandishing a small circular glass, not unlike a monocle or other magnifying device, although it looks rather cloudy—or perhaps dirty?
“It took me years to develop and find the right minded people to help me in our research,” he seems to be turning sections of the small handle and the glass gets more opaque. “It’s still a little temperamental, a bit slow, but as I tell young people,” he wags his finger at you in particular as the youngest person near him no doubt, “life is all about patience and the determination to see something through.”
“Now, in addition to showing poisons in food,” he points to the dish of fish now before him. All have you have been served, but those in seats adjacent to Ellon have refrained from eating—even Francesca and her husband on your other side seem to be intrigued with your conversation once more. Likely because the sanctif is no longer moralizing and is instead explaining something practical. “It can also show possession in humans.”
He turns his head to look over all those around him and you feel your anticipation tighten. He ends up looking directly at you. “Pardon me, my lady, but would you mind helping me with this demonstration?”
While you are nervous at being the focus of some sort of demonstration, you realize it’s an infinitely better option than Dale. “Of course not,” you reply, your voice seemed steady enough, right?
“Now, for the resting state, the glass starts off as murky and gray,” Ellon gestures with the device, moving it around so everyone can see how gray and fogged over it is. Before he pushes some things aside and takes your hand in his free one, laying flat on the table. “But as I hold it over her hand,” he holds the glass steady over your hand. “It fades, leaving only a red-ish tinge over her hand.”
Indeed, before your eyes, the fog grows less and less thick, getting a faint red tint, like clouds lit up by a fading sunset. “This proves her to be human. The lack of color on the other objects in view shows them as non-living. Demonic influences would cause the smoke to darken from the original light gray or even blacken if held over a true demon.”
Everyone murmurs as they take a look and you make a purposeful effort not to look at Grandfather and see his reaction. Maybe this was a good thing after all, some proof he might believe. After all you truly aren’t influenced by demonic anything—beyond new Dale’s personality, you suppose.
After a moment when the effect seems to no longer intensify, he pulls away and you take your hand back, feeling more relieved than you have in days. “To reset it, you merely agitate the vapors once more.” He shakes the glass so it fills with fog again. You move to lean back in your seat, rather limp with your relief when he turns to his right, turns to Dale. All that tension is shoots right back up your spine, when he pulls the glass over Dale’s left hand, resting on the table. “After this quick refresh, it is ready to be used once more.”
Unfortunately, unlike with your hand, the fog does not lighten or dissipate. Instead it continues to swirl, perhaps from the sanctif’s motion, but also likely because of Dale himself. You can barely breathe, you refuse to look at Dale’s face, as the sanctif frowns. The fog gradually grows darker “Hm, sometimes it can get stuck so to speak. Nothing a good shake can’t fix.”
He pulls the glass away and shakes it even more vigorously than before. Your eyes can’t help but dart to Dale, who appears to be staring at his hand, but almost unfocused—like he’s concentrating on something you can’t see. You hope he knows some way to deceive this little device because otherwise…
Ellon moves the glass back over Dale’s hand. This time, the vapors slowly stop spinning and then, over what feels like ages but must only be seconds, slowly start to dissipate. Lightening and turning a mild pink, they outline his hand in an effect similar to, if not much weaker than when it was used on your own hand.
“Ah! There we are, see! On the slow side but ultimately works like a charm. The more use it sees, the weaker and slower it gets,” Ellon says with a triumphant smile before he pulls the glass away. “It needs a full day in sunlight to properly charge. So many courses means I’ve had to use it far more often this evening than usual. Forgive me for wanting to save its strength for the food yet to come.”
“Of course,” Dale replies, motioning with his right hand—not the one that was just examined. It stays where it is on the table, looking rather limp. “If you do not mind, I am rather hungry for this next course.”
“Yes, it looks delicious,” Ellon replies. “Please, please, do not let me delay our meal any longer with my sidetracks.”
“Nonsense,” Grandfather says and you finally risk a glance at him. He looks a bit shaken, but he also appears relieved. He smiles at the sanctif. “We greatly enjoyed your demonstration.”
“Good, good,” Ellon says with a proud smile as he begins to cut his fish. You shakily take up your own utensils. You hope no one notices Dale is only using his untested hand for his food.
You barely taste the food you put in your mouth, still coming down from the flash of fear from the moment Ellon turned that glass on Dale. You wonder if your heart will ever recover as it continues to spin through what might have happened if Dale hadn’t managed to subvert the device.
A cough from next to your stirs you from your thoughts. The sound loud and wracking enough that you glance over at him out of the corner of your eye. You frown, turning more fully when he drops his fork with a clatter. Ellon’s face is pinking and he starts to take deep breaths, though they don’t appear to be working if the way his breathing speeds up is any indication.
“Is something wrong, your Illuminance?” Grandfather asks, brow furrowing as the sanctif gulps down some water before pushing his chair back from the table, as if to get more space. Dale tries to help, but he can’t seem to grip Ellon’s chair well with his left hand.
“Yes,” the man's voice is much thinner than it had been, rougher despite the drink. “Need a doctor.” He coughs and then makes an urgent gesture with his hand when everyone just stares. “Now!”
“Yes!”
“Right!”
Francesca and Charles get up at once and head in opposite directions in search of a physician, while the minister tries to flag down an attendant who might find one quicker.
You hastily refill Ellon’s water glass, at a loss for what else you can do for him. What could be happening to him? Abruptly, you realize in all his demonstrating, he never actually ran the detection glass over his own food.
Grandfather puts the same facts together as you do, “Heights, have you been poisoned?”
Ellon shakes his head though, trying to look at the dish through eyes that are watering up. You don’t know what he sees, but some understanding dawns on him even as his breathing gets rougher.
“All-” he coughs, trying unsuccessfully to clear his throat, but it appears as though his airway is closing, “Al-lergi-c,” he manages to pant out.
“Oh!,” you hastily rifle through your own pockets. You only carry a handful of tonics at all times, but with your own allergy to keep in mind—this is always one of them. You pull out a small bottle and work to get the cork off hastily and explain, “Tonic of soma?”
Recognition lights up in his watery eyes and Ellon reaches towards you desperately. “Yes,” he croaks.
Once the cork is free you pass the little bottle over to him and he drinks it down as best he can, swallowing convulsively. Soma tonic is a medicine for allergic reactions, containing ephedra and other balancing herbs for opening up one’s airways. A temporary solution to be taken only when truly needed, it should buy the sanctif enough time for a doctor with proper treatments to arrive.
He drains the dose and drinks another full cup of water, before his breathing eases. “I’m sorry, I only have one dose. But it can be dangerous to take two as it is,” you find yourself saying. “It should be enough to help.” You hope that’s true as you refill his cup, your hand is shaking. You’ve never had to use the medicine more than once and that had been on yourself, not a prominent spiritual official. There’s no reason it won’t work and yet, you are scared that either it will somehow make things worse.
“Thank you,” Ellon manages to say between breaths but you don’t feel like being thanked is appropriate, not when he still seems in too fragile of a condition. Then two doctors descend on your table in a flurry of activity. You manage to communicate what you gave him, handing over the bottle with its neat label you had spent time months ago writing. The large bottle you get had been carefully dosed in several smaller ones so you could more easily have them in your pockets without weighing your skirts down oddly.
You find yourself explaining this to Dale, who had walked around to your side without you realizing. The doctor you handed it over to doesn’t seem to listen, merely reading the label, which is probably for the best. Instead, he turns to you and asks only, “Can we keep this?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” you answer automatically.
Two footmen help Ellon into a wheelchair, which they then bodily carry off the dais, with one of the doctors going with them. The other stays behind to say, “He’s going to be fine, truly. We’ll give him some proper medicine and then monitor him overnight. He has his own medication for such attacks—it appears that the sauce has some sort of nut he cannot eat in it.” Sighs of relief come from those around you and you feel your own heart finally start to slow back down.
The doctor talks with Grandfather, who also came around to your side of the table at some point. Before he leaves though, the doctor takes a moment to say to you, “Very pleased you had this on you, my lady. Do you have a similar condition?” You nod ‘yes’ and he nods in reply. “Smart thinking to carry some with you. You’ve made this a far less close call than it could have been. My gratitude.”
He leaves before you can think of a reply. Slowly, you all sit back down, trying to return to some semblance of normalcy. Your table is rather subdued and you keep getting interruptions from others who come to ask what all the fuss was about. When this course concludes, you stand up to leave the table for the first time in the night, wanting to move to another table in the hopes of regaining something of a typical mood.
When the minister Dale brought over, indicates the two of you should accompany her to her table, she asks Grandfather if he would like to come as well.
“No thank you, my lady,” he replies with a kind smile. “I’m certain my grandchildren would prefer some time with others. I have plenty more to catch up with.”
Dale laughs and so does the minister. As you walk away, trying to put your finger on what was different about Grandfather, you realize that for the first time since the hunt, he included you once more in his family.
[Part Eighteen]
#my writing#story: nothing's wrong with dale#story part#dale#terato#exophilia#monster bf#monster x reader#male monster#arranged marriage#slow burn#long chapter#hope no one minds the spiritual info#also none of this is legit allergy treatment lol#super late though#sorry about that#life be busy#do i now hav too much lore about spiritual beliefs in this world?#perhaps#oh well#hope you liked it
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hello helloo! i just read through your modern au and I'm in love (shocker), i wanted to ask if you'd give some more info on poppy? apologies if there's already a dedicated post to her, looking is not my specialty
there is not! i will gladly ramble!
~
in this au, Poppy is slightly less fearful than canon. this is for several reasons! 1) years of therapy. 2) anxiety meds. 3) teenage years of her friends dragging her out for Shenanigans & hyping her tf up! but she's still a worrywart! she's very cautious! she can and Will see the bad/dengerous side to every situation. but! now she has the tools to not only cope with but combat her intrusive thoughts & fears <3
i think i mentioned it before but she Did Not Realize she was trans until highschool! specifically, when she met Sally! Poppy had to stop by the theater department after school for some reason or another, and Sally noticed her looking longingly at the costume dresses (Poppy thought she was alone lol)
and while Poppy was mortified at being caught, Sally was delighted. they only knew each other in passing and from reputation but Sally started holding up dresses to Poppy and complimenting how well they suited her. (i could joke about how Sally could sniff out the lesbian in her before Poppy even knew she was a girl!) Poppy, flustered by the sudden attention and apparent acceptance, didn't know how to handle it and fled. then started avoiding Sally in the halls. but! eventually she had to go back for Insert Reason Here, and ofc Sally was there. this time around Sally is a little gentler and less assertive, but manages to coax Poppy into checking out the more ~feminine~ costumes again. thus begins their little meetings where Poppy tries on costumes and Sally is her biggest hypeman
it takes a while for things to Click in Poppy's mind! it isn't until she tries on a dress that Sally custom-made for her, wearing some makeup and a wig, that Poppy has her oh moment. unfortunately, some of their ~mutual friends~ (Wally, Barnaby, Howdy) walk in on them. there's a short, terrifying moment where Wally is all "who's your friend, Sally?" and Barnaby has to lean over to let him know "that's Poppy, bud". before Poppy can fully freak out, Wally immediately goes OH! and starts complimenting how pretty she looks. Barnaby chimes in next to ask if the dress is home-made bc it fits Poppy beautifully, Howdy nabs a necklace from the nearby gathered accessories and put it on her to "tie the outfit together". in short! Poppy finds nothing but support from her buddies & they're more than happy to help her figure out this new internal crisis / revelation
then of course eventually she's found out by her family, which goes very well (im using sarcasm! it goes terribly!). Poppy isn't outright disowned or kicked out or in immediate danger, but her relationship with her family is ruined by their transphobic bigotry. her friends have her back throughout this, and the guest room at the Beagle farm is always open to her! Sally continues to make custom clothes for Poppy (something that becomes a love language for the two of them <3).
honestly, this period in Poppy's life is part of what like... idk... strengthens her, in a way? her continuing to be herself and actively rebelling against her family, i mean. Poppy becomes a pretty stellar liar lol (lying to her parents about where she's going, who she's hanging out with, what she does after school, etc). she's very cautious about all of it, but she does it! she's determined to pursue and discover and Realize the woman inside her! i have this sweet scene in my mind of the Group at the Beagle farm chilling on the floor with notebooks, brainstorming on possible names. (Sally enthusiastically says a variation of 'exquisite' to each one, and then when Poppy says 'im not sure about that one' Sally - still enthusiastically - says a variation of 'horrible terrible how could you suggest such an ill-fitting name'). despite everyone's efforts, i like to think that Poppy finds her name entirely on accident! maybe during the Gap Year Road Trip! maybe they stop by a SoCal poppy reserve in superbloom and the flowers Resonate with her! who's to say!
but Poppy begins her (medical) transition in college! she, of course, gets shit for it, but she also begins to find community and enjoyment in the local queer community. and of course, she has her buddies <3
but anyway! i like to think that Poppy participates in local farmer's markets with her crochet work & baked goods, the latter of which is a complete hit! that, plus her first experience with going to a tearoom inspires her to strive towards owning her own! tearooms are right up her alley, i'd say - calm, quiet, and Poppy can make peoples' days a little brighter with a tranquil atmosphere & delicious treats! i swear i have a reason between 'Poppy british = she goes into tea business'. honestly! tearooms are more about the tiny sammies & tasty cones w/ cream! and feeling Fancy while chatting!
i think it takes a while for her to actually be able to start up a tearoom. I'd imagine she starts by holding a small, single-table reservation-based one in her own place once the Group decides on what town to move to. it's successful, slowly (but steadily) grows, until she can get an actual House and transform the ground floor into a full tearoom. lil shop by the checkout counter, several different rooms, a sizeable kitchen. staff! the tearoom is a humble one, but it's a killer holiday & tourist destination! the high ratings even bring in people from out of town!
and when it comes to Poppy & Sally, bc yall know i'm a sucker for Popstar - i like to think that they start dating after (mostly) all of them move into their new town. & after they both have been in prior relationships! and then they never stop dating. well, they do, but that's so that they can upgrade to Wife Status. and then they never stop being wives so there <3
but Poppy is successful and happy! she had a rough go of it but she Makes It! and she continues to make it!
#i hope this Suffices!#ofc the ~lore~ in my mind is a lil more complex#but its Too Much to fully write out yk yk#giving her a tearoom was uhhhhh a bit of Personal Indulgence i will admit!#i used to have a tradition with my mother/grandma/sister where we'd all go to a tearoom once a year#but then grammie bit the dust (or rather - got turned into it) and that tradition uh. kinda stopped#i have very fond memories! i'd like to go to one again someday! perhaps with friends!#so when i was thinking 'what modern day profession would suit poppy' i do think owning a high english tearoom would fit#theres also just a level of personal influence to that ahaha#also if i went to a nice tearoom and the owner was a gorgeous 6'8 woman. ough. thats all im gonna say about it. ough <3#rambles from the bog#wh modern human au#sally likes to waltz into the tearoom while poppy is working to buy One (one) little box of tea and also flirt over the counter for an hour#and there's an upstairs room reserved for Poppy & her friends!!#it's free for them to use at any time!#though they still always pay. they have a lil game with poppy where she tries her best to refuse#but they manage to sneak the payment past her anyway#or they so happen to 'leave a tip that just so happens to be the exact payment' on their chair#on top of the tearoom she also supplies some baked goods for Howdy's shop#it was something they started when she was first getting her lil business off the ground#it evolves into just 'poppy bakes a batch of muffins as her morning ritual and sends them to howdys'#she supplies more when she can! or when she stress bakes! or when she and frank stress bake together! the entire group gets fresh tasties!
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I think it would be fun if Malus, Gerringothe and Thisobald are all siblings, oldest to youngest in that order
Just the comedy value alone of two brothers who are so very unalike, both in physicality and personality. About the only hobby they share is alchemy/chemistry
All three very driven and set in their own ways. They live in the same town, all down the street from each, yet only meet up a few times a year. The inevitable bickering whenever two or more are in the same place. Etc.
#malus thorm#gerringothe thorm#thisobald thorm#since canon refuses to elaborate how geri and thiz fit into the family tree i have taken matters into my own hands#there would have to be a fourth sibling so that we can have ketheric#honestly i have so much background lore building up for this lot#a lot of it is going into my wip fic#tentatively calling it A Town Called Reithwin but the name is still subject to change#i like imagining what they were like before the shadows fell#i like setting it up for dysfunctional falling apart familial relationships#i spoke of comedy value but really its tragedy value too#i could write pages and pages but perhaps not in the tags
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Who’s ilona?
It's my Pokémon OC who serves as a secondary main antagonist in Gen 5 in my story (while already being corrupt in the past in Kanto). Gotta post some background information hopefully soon, including a few artworks because ngl, I've been working on her since 2015 and a lot has changed design- & lorewise. Ghetsis has a serious issue with her because all I can say for now is that she was by far smarter and more successful than him despite not being part of a bigger group nor having as many tools & minions as he did, so dude felt instantly called out + his pride wounded coz we all know that he believes he's hot stuff and better than everyone else
It's also two people with two completely messed up goals & points of view, so it's not surprising that they were standing in each other's way 🙈
#pokemon oc#personal asks#if i ever decide to write my lore of pokemon down it's going to be such a mess lol#and dark.. perhaps too dark for this franchise if I think about it but oh well
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….so. like. how do you break someone of the notion that he’s only worth something if he’s useful to people when he’s the player character in an rpg? (this is about bg3 and my current tav)
it’s fun bc it gives an in-character reason to be a completionist, but from a writing perspective? while trying to keep things in line with how my actual gameplay goes? this belief is super reinforced over and over again. esp since there’s no real built in way to be useless. failure is technically an option, but my guy has been rather lucky on the major dice rolls. i suppose i could just throw up my hands and let his actual development come post-game. because i do have some ideas for that. but it’d be nice to have some development happen during the events of the game
…and this is getting a bit longer than i intended so…
maybe i could purposely fail a dice roll during a super important quest or something and see how he copes with the aftermath, but like. idk. he already accidentally destroyed the whole crèche, but that was less him being useless and still loved and more a ‘stop being a dipshit, think before you act’ moment. and it happened organically, which is nice. i don’t want to necessarily force anything, but at the same time, i’m almost gonna have to if i want some change to occur in the game timeline, right? put on my god pants and divinely intervene and all for the sake of character growth
i have this idea that maybe something happens late game where he’s out of commission for a while and needs to be taken care of by the squad. which he absolutely hates because he fully expects them to resent him for it and hate him and so forth, but no. he’s spent the whole journey taking care of them, now it’s their turns to have his back. but then idk how exactly to put him out of commission for a while in a way that doesn’t kill him or something because, d&d universe, magic healing, it’s not like they’d let him stay injured like that. especially since he’s at ‘exceptional’ with all the homies by the end. and also it can’t be something super long because, y’know, mother brain is trying to break free and all that…
or. oh. maybe they see him struggling. the weight of everything is finally to the point that he can no longer smile and wave off concern and redirect any such conversation convincingly. everyone collectively decides he needs a break, so they force him to sit this one out, lmao. and he’s fucking miserable, spending a good portion of the time thinking they’ve deemed him useless and it’s only a matter of time before they get rid of him completely. and it’s double bad, actually, because once he stops moving, The Anxiety asserts itself and The Thoughts start nagging at him and he starts to spiral even further. and instead of opening up, he sets off on his own to take care of a quest or whatever and ends up getting Fucked Up and he needs to be taken care of anyway, but this time with a nice side-helping of lovingly getting chewed out by his companions….
idk. maybe i’m looking in the wrong direction? or maybe i’m thinking too much about it. it’s not necessary to have a character arc to play the game. but, by gum, i fuckin wanna figure this shit out. as a writing brain exercise
#hm. perhaps it’d be a good exercise to ‘novelize’ his canon as i play#get a better narrative sense of him that way#cause it’s super easy to meta game and cheat things a bit when i’m simply playing#the need to win the game tends to trump the desire to roleplay properly a touch too often….#maybe turning it into a fic will help keep me honest?#idk man…..#writing is hard…..#character building also is hard#if anyone sees this and reads it and has Ideas or Advice i am open to it#or if someone with d&d lore knowledge knows of a feasible way for a sick day during the events of the game plz give me#would be ppreciated#oc: could it be this misery will suffice? (oliver)#to the void with love#bg3 tav
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if i had a nickel for everytime one of my original stories featured a character chock full of parental trauma who views their life's sole purpose as being of use to others, got a crazy magical power forced upon them and then decided to use a supposedly irreversible amount of it to sacrifice themselves to save their friends, only to have the friends stick around to find a way to bring them back, i'd have 3 nickels, which isn't a lot but-
#my original stories#to add another layer to this all 3 of those characters ended up in my Top 5 Faves list bc i project too much of myself on them too#anyways i might have ~19 distinct original stories but#goddamn do i appear to keep accidentally writing the same story a little differently each time#if anyone's curious this is specifically about kirsen and josy and nisha#altho Keahi's pokemon version of her story is also slated to have this exact scenario happen so#another nickel baby!!!#and i mean. nishas could defs be subject to change since so much of JDK is up in the air still#but i know myself and bc she's so important to me im p sure its gonna stay 🤟😔#at least i have slightly different ways the story leads up to these events#and roughly different ways of how theyll be resolved?#josys is the power of friendship essentially#kirsens is her friends teaming up to blackmail god into returning her#and nishas?? idk i havent gotten that far#either its a bittersweet tragedy and there really is no returning her to what she was but she does in fact save her friends#or perhaps a magical means that ive been tossing around for a bit bc im not 100% sure it fits w my lore the way i want#we shall see....
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you know what. I planned out my entire nanowrimo novel in a month then wrote double the length last november bc i had an outline to work off of. so like. theres absolutely no reason i couldnt just blitz a script for the comic in like, a month? I KNOW i can write fast jkdhjkad i could def do that...less excuses not to finish it if its already p much entirely planned in detail, right? 🤔
#like. going double over the length was a happy accident#altho being employed MIGHT slow things down a bit. i could write on my phone on my lunch break? i did that a lot with warm healer actually#probably 60-70% of that fic was written on my phone!#and if i hard limit myself to 30 pages max per chapter#and writing comics out is WAY FASTER just dialogue + like. stage direction ig would be the word#lil snippet descriptions + maybe thumbnails#....like...id wanna have a script to follow before starting but theres NO reason i couldnt do it quickish#i HAVE chapter plans/outlines in my notebook already! and just concepts floating around#perhaps i made the theme for it already. perhaps i am planning as i type this. who really knows#.......LIKE IT JUST /WORKS BETTER AS A COMIC/ IDK WHAT TO SAY. I GUESS. IN THEORY ITS HAPPENING. MAYBE. NO PROMISES BUT. MAYBE REALLY#TwT#i want to have 3 chapters done before i start posting so not done anytime SOON. btw. just..in the works....maybe....#sanchoyorambles#also id like to wait until tmmn is finished so i can see if i wanna incorperate anything from it into it but.#what if it DOES get a s3 lol#i use a lot of stuff from la mode too!! what if we got new lore!!#id scream
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When you say they bully vlad, is it bully affectionate or bully bad?
mostly bully affectionate but vlad takes literally everything personally because he is an insecure narcissistic baby man so when they mock him he's like "I've no idea why I bother with the likes of you people. You are all moronic, crass, and therefore beneath me." to which theyre all like "ok Vladdy Daddy <3 whatever makes you feel better!"
#jade answers#anonymous#straud asks#except for yakov he literally just calls vlad stupid on the regular#yakov taught vlad how to read and write in russian and english#so every time they meet yakov is like Let us touch up on your grammar skills my dear idiot boy!#marcellus and helena constantly mock vlad for being a sex pest. he says anything and they're like#Vladdy Daddy you would feel so much better if only you got pegged. Why don't you visit a brothel my boy?#they all call vlad 'boy; and vlad HATESSS it. he's always like 'I am NOT a boy. I'm a GROWN MAN!'#to which nadia will pinch his cheek and say 'Yes sweetheart and look at how grown you are! <3'#actually inessa just straight up insults him too because he has a terrible sense of fashion. but she does that to everyone so its ok#in my universe pretty much everyone mocks vlad bc he takes himself so seriously and hes incapable of having fun#even the vatores make fun of him except caleb doesnt mean to hes just very honest and whenever caleb sees vlad#acting like an insecure narcissistic baby man he's like#Vladislaus you are being unreasonable again. Perhaps if you had a hobby you wouldn't have such a terrible personality#lilith wants to murder vlad it isn't even bullying on her end they literally hate each other#lilith is also vlad in a different font. insecure narcissistic baby woman#the only person who takes vlad as seriously as he takes himself is breanna lol she thinks he's sooooo cool#but canonically every vampire ever thinks he's a wet blanket#all of this lore predates the straud legacy btw. this is all vlad/brie backstory reprisal lore#when vlad and breanna finally get together and start a family he's a lot less petty and vindictive. he calms down a lot
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not me wanting to change Jun's partner's final form to Sakuyamon or something... (perhaps change perfect/dub-ultimate for something else too)
Or... maybe making a Sakuyamon OC...
But i also want to add Kuzuhamon from GG here i love her so much
SO MANY IDEAS FOR AN UNDECISIVE LIVE BEING
(╯°��°）╯︵ ┻━┻
[edit 1] Time for iconing mode.
[edit 2] i'm doing this so faster than i expected wow...
#ooc post; ni talks#i'll keep writing lore posts to give more flavor to this blog btw. at least for some of the adv muses and perhaps gg piemon and oc muses#maybe some with frontier takuya izumi and boko-nee too
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Genshin Angst Headcanons - Why the two of you broke up
Note: Had an unexpected free day! I haven't written in a while, please excuse the mistakes, if any.
Disclaimer at the end of the post
Warning: Some are pretty predictable. Each of them have their own issues, lore wise, so some are lore heavy. You might not agree with some of them, but its how I see it, so to each their own. Let me know what you think! Some are quite angsty. Some scenes it's you breaking up with him and some are vice versa. Didn't feel like writing Razor, Venti and Xingqiu.
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Tighnari, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader
Personal Favourites in this work: Lyney, Itto, Kazuha
Aether
Sister issues. Enough said.
He realized he didn't have enough time to spare romancing with someone.
Somewhere along the way he felt guilt that he was enjoying his time with you while his sister went through some sort of villain origin story that seemingly turned her bad.
Top off all the adventuring, searching, solving problems for other people that he did...Where did that leave you, exactly?
"...I'm sorry, Y/N... I just... I don't think this is the right time for me to be together with you,"
Albedo
Contrary to popular belief it wouldn't be his lack of time or extreme focus on his alchemical experiments that would break the two of you up. He knows how to manage his time.
It was the RESULTS of experiments and his research that would put him away from you.
The possibility that HE or his world, was way too dangerous for you.
How many "Albedos" did Rhinedottir really create? Was there more than three? Perhaps four, five? And what happens when you come face to face with another Albedo?
"I'm afraid...There are far too many dangers surrounding myself... There are answers that I can't find...and perhaps that's the reason why my answer is to part ways with you,"
Alhaitham
Too much of a nonchalant attitude.
He expressed some kind of interest in you...but it's like... once in a blue moon. 95% of the time you're not sure if he's really into you. It almost seems like he's more into that book he reads all the time.
Simply just not good at expressing himself. Like, at all. Hides behind a "whatever works" and "I don't care about what other people think of me" attitude, unfortunately that seems to include you.
Is so straightforward that sometimes it hurts, but he's really just telling the truth through logical analysis.
will act like the breakup didn't hurt nor affect him at all. In turn it hurts you instead.
"I see. So you've had enough of me... And you only spoke up now? Pointing it out earlier could've diverted us from this path...If that's how you feel already I suggest that we stop seeing each other,"
"That's it? You're not even going to try and work it out with me?"
"What's there to work out? You've made yourself clear. You're not satisfied with the way I treat you, and I'm afraid I'm not going to change the way I act just for your pleasure... It'd be more meaningful for you to find someone who fits your criterias,"
Ayato
entering a relationship with a noble was not as easy as one thought.
It's not just about being together forever and feeling lucky because Ayato is rich and your whole life is set, it's also the not fitting in, the etiquette, the whispers from townfolk that you were too ordinary for him, the work that you needed to do if you were to become his wife.
All that was not really a big problem for you, but Ayato seemed not to know of your struggles, he was extremely busy, and when he wasn't, he seemed to think that everything was well and fine, since you were getting all your basic needs met and even more.
"...So I'm sorry, Ayato. This is just... All too much for me. I'm sorry,"
"...I understand. Forgive me, it seems that I've overlooked a lot of things...Perhaps it is as you say, that it'd be better for us to grow apart rather than grow together,"
Baizhu
because he is a ticking time bomb, no matter which way he looked it's not going to end well for both of you.
He either dies early or lives forever. In both scenarios he anticipates that the two of you are just going to be in a world of hurt.
Besides, he didn't mean to get so attached to someone in the first place, he knew his quest for immortality was long and arduous. You didn't deserve to walk that difficult road too.
While breaking up, will conceal the fact that he's only thinking of you and will possibly hurt you in the process.
"I'm sorry, but it's for the best. I ask that you continue going forward without me, there's no space for you in my... ideal future,"
Bennett
We all know it...it's his bad luck. However, it wasn't YOU who had a problem with it, it was HIM.
You understood that his bad luck was just some extended part of him, plus it's not like it was always bad, there were a lot of good times too. Plenty!
But the guilt ate him up whenever the two of you were stuck in a seemingly impossible scenario and predicament, brought on by his luck. He just had enough of it one day.
"I...I can't keep doing this to you every day! It's not fair..."
will be on the brink of tears before he even starts.
"Maybe it's better if you find someone else to adventure with, Y/N, sorry...!"
runs away before you can even get a word in.
Chongyun
Thinks he's not good enough in every aspect. It's really, seriously not about you. He thinks he's lacking in everything. Strength, maturity, experience, confidence.
So badly wants to stay with you but feels like he's not good enough and thinks that you're better off with someone else.
"D-Don't misunderstand... It's not because I don't like you anymore... I just...Please find someone else!"
Cyno
his bad jokes and TCG addiction. just kidding, you're not that shallow.
A lot of people are intimidated by him being the General Mahamatra because he gives importance to justice. While you, who had seen a bit more of him than other people had, it seemed more of an obsession to uphold the Akademiya's law and integrity.
This was not a big problem to you, you liked how he was serious at work.
Until one day when you were accused of plagiarising one of your papers and Cyno was the one sent to give you a first offense warning. The Akademiya knew of your relationship, that's probably why they sent him, to make it harder on the two of you.
Cyno didn't listen to your explanations on how it was an honest mistake, he still gave you the warning that you "deserved"
From then on it had just been different between the two of you, so it was really a mutual breakup. Or so you thought.
"...After that, I just realized that maybe this isn't the right time for us... We're both working for the Akademiya, we both take our jobs seriously...Unfortunately that seems to just be getting in the way of us...I think it's best if we stop seeing each other,"
"...I see." he pauses for a minute, as if tossing your words in his mind. "I...agree. Parting ways would certainly make work easier for both of us...it's the professional thing to do,"
Dainsleif
Has not moved on from his past.
Sure, everyone has their own baggage to carry, their own history to live through...but Dainsleif has heavier things than that. He seemed to wake up every day thinking of Khaenri'ah and the days long past. Was it regret? Nostalgia? Loneliness? You didn't know. You just knew that he wasn't really completely THERE with you in the present. Part of him still lived in the past.
When you explained that you felt like the two of you were not moving forward together and that it seemed like he wanted to go back to the past instead, he got offended.
"...My past is something that I carry forever, you'd claimed that you understood that," he starts.
"I do! But carrying it with you and letting it drag you backwards are two different things!"
He falters for a moment, only to leave you with his last words before turning away from you forever: "You will never understand, the weight that I carry,"
Diluc
is too guarded. You'd been friends for a long, long, long, long time before he decided he could let you in enough and be more intimate with you.
Even then everything was going at a snail's pace, though you were extremely patient with him.
The biggest problem with Diluc was that the two of you would progress one day, take a step forward, and then the next day it was like the two of you took two steps back.
Example: The two of you went out for a simple stargazing excursion late one night, it was nice and he had been incredibly affectionate. The next day he had trouble even meeting your gaze, and disappeared to do his work. It was also a little awkward during dinnertime. This scenario had happened more than once.
Hint: the closer he got to you the more afraid he became, thinking that he would one day lose you too.
"I...I can't. I love you but I...I've waited far too long. I'm sorry. I'm tired of this endless chase for you!"
He couldn't even say a thing. He'd wanted to ask you to stay, to wait for him a little longer, but he already knew how incredibly selfish that would have been. Instead, he grimaced, and looked away from your gaze, trying to find something worthwhile to say. There was only silence for a few moments.
"Goodbye Diluc," that's when you turned away.
Gorou
worships Kokomi too much and your insecurities just kept circling around in your head.
You know its his job. You know he isn't like that but the problem was YOU and not him.
Simply said you let your insecurity eat up the relationship between the two of you.
You couldn't bring yourself to say that you were jealous of the way he admired Kokomi so you broke up with him with another reason in tow.
Unfortunately, you're not a very good liar face to face so you did a butthole move and actually broke up with him through a letter. You just couldn't face him and tell him why.
All you mentioned in the letter was that you needed time to think and be away from him, and told him not to worry because it was your problem, not his.
Poor Gorou reread that letter over and over, trying to understand what went wrong.
Heizou
is just a natural flirt. You're not sure if he's doing it on purpose or not and you're not sure if he's even aware he's like that.
Anyway you'd seen him getting overly friendly (just another word for flirting) with a few other people a couple of times. You didn't let it get to you the first, fourth or even eighth time but you realized that he KNOWS that you're watching him do that.
So you confront him about it, but he claims that it's just his way of gathering information from others. People like to hear good things and some people are more susceptible to flirtatious comments so he resorts to that for his investigation sometimes.
You didn't really completely buy it and even if you did, it's not like this was healthy for your relationship. You just couldn't make yourself comfortable with it.
*You just chalked it up to the two of you being incompatible.
"I'm just not comfortable with that...I don't think I have to say sorry for how I feel but...I'm sorry anyway because I know you're just doing your job... It's probably best if we part ways here..."
"Is there any way to change your mind?" he genuinely asks.
You only give a lopsided smile. "You're a detective, I think you already know the answer to that,"
Yet he didn't stop you from walking away.
Itto
Kept breaking promises because he was too airheaded or too occupied doing something "stupid" with the kids or with his gang.
Pretty soon it just felt like you were an afterthought while everyone else in his life took precedent.
Got a ramen date? Oops, sorry! Got caught up looking for a strong onikabuto in the forest!
Needed his help to move some things? Gah, he was vandalising the bulletin boards, so he's running a bit late!
What's more you didn't actually mind that carefree, airheaded side of him...but it really got to you when he couldn't even seem to make you a priority. Not once.
He only realized that when he came running, late again, and stood face to face with a crying you.
"Hey sorry Y/N, I was just--...Why are you crying?!" is completely dumbfounded and clueless, mostly because when he came late, you had always shrugged it off with a smile on your face, or so he thought. This time you had a completely different reaction.
"I hate you...*hic* I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"
Shocked beyond belief. It wasn't like you to just blow up like that, but he couldn't do anything except watch you turn and run away from him after that exclamation.
Kaeya
Sometimes you're not sure if he takes you seriously.
Recently, he's not where he says he is, you don't know why he doesn't just tell you where he is.
He said he'd be working late, but then you find out he's at Angel's Share.
He said he'll be at Angel's Share, but then you catch word from Jean that he's out on a late mission.
He said he's escorting a caravan to Mondstadt but he's actually on assignment in Liyue.
It came to the point where you altogether just stopped looking for him cause half of the time you couldn't find him. It's like he's avoiding you or something, which, actually, seems just about right since he's been so busy with "work"
It reached a breaking point when, for a week, you were unable to bring him the lunch you prepared...because he was not where he said he was going to be. It was starting to get annoying.
"I don't understand why you're lying to me! Why do you have to tell me you'll be at Angel's Share this afternoon when you're not? Do you realize you make me walk all the way there only to come all the way back with nothing achieved?"
"I'm sorry snowflake, that wasn't my intention," though he still chuckles despite knowing full well that you were about to turn away.
"You know what, let me know when you're ready to stop making jokes. Until then, don't bother contacting me,"
He just didn't expect you to actually walk away from him.
Kaveh
Entertains everyone and anyone. Naturally kind at heart, will stop for anyone in trouble...even that flirtatious man/woman who is clearly just pining for his attention.
No he doesn't quite realize this.
The same person had asked for his help at least 4 times now and all 4 times he had been happy to offer a helping hand.
The last straw was when he was invited into the stranger's house, they had apparently needed someone to help them move and re-arrange furniture and he did, working till almost dinner time.
You'd caught him right by the person's door, because Kaveh was actually honest and told you he'd be helping them today, but the person was clearly eyeing Kaveh rather flirtatiously.
"Come again next time," you heard the person say rather happily. Kaveh only replies with "If I have nothing else to do, I suppose,"
"Kaveh, they're coming onto you and you keep letting it happen!"
"I'm not certain what you're talking about...They just needed some help around their house, nothing suspicious happened at all. Even if there was, I won't let anything happen between me and a stranger!"
"Then STOP helping them!"
"There isn't anything wrong with lending a hand...It was a quick move of things, that's all,"
"How would YOU feel if I just went into someone's house and kept helping them "move" things?"
"...I would think that's nice of you,"
You actually threw your hands up. "Oh, forget it! You know what, for someone who LOVES helping others, you're not doing such a great job of helping ME," then walked away and never came back. "Good riddance,"
Kazuha
He's a wandering samurai. You knew what you were getting into but you didn't expect dating him to be so hard.
He was gone for weeks on end, and you were not getting on that boat with him. In essence the two of you were just not ready to follow each other to the end's of the Earth, and that was fair. The two of you were young.
Kazuha kind of saw it coming, whenever he visited you, you seemed less spirited and he had an inkling as to why. The time apart was just too much for you.
It was a rather clean break actually. A real mutual breakup that the two of you agreed on.
"...You could say it's just not the right time for us," you even managed to laugh under your breath and he did the same, though it was barely audible.
"...Mm. There are matters that you need to attend to here...and there are things that I need to do out there," he slowly stood up from his sitting position next to you and still gazed at you rather lovingly. "...Perhaps, in another world, you and I are bound together,"
You gazed back forlornly, "...Just not in this one, it looks like,"
Lyney
because he will always choose his siblings over you. Always.
Though that's not a bad thing because you also think that family is important...somewhere along the way you realized that family is the ONLY thing he had and saw.
Example: Lynette and you had gotten ill at the same time one winter morning. Perhaps it was the cold that was passing around Fontaine. Lyney had been so worried about Lynette, that he seemed to have forgotten about you for the next few days. In fact, Lyney didn't even realize that you caught the cold too. You had only heard from Freminet, who you happened to cross paths with, that Lynette was also ill.
You thought that incident was the end of it, but really it seemed that whenever Lyney wanted to hang out with you, Lynette had to be there too. You tried to understand...after all there's still that mystery of disappearing women in Fontaine.
The breakup was induced when Lyney completely forgot about your birthday, because Freminet's was around the same time as yours. You helped Lyney prepare everything for Freminet, and said nothing about your own.
You realized that there was nothing wrong with choosing family over everything else...but the problem here was that Lyney didn't even have space for you in the first place.
So you left without saying anything. You figured he'd get over it quick. You had even gone so far as to move away from the main city of Fontaine and out into another island, because what would you say if he found you? That you were jealous of his siblings? You weren't going to ruin a family like that and it wasn't right to make him choose...so you just left without a word.
Neuvillette
Had a whole brainrot for this man:
Part 1
Part 2
Scaramouche
surprisingly it's not his anger issues.
It's the way he wouldn't acknowledge your relationship. You wonder how you even got into one with him.
There's no public show of affection, but even behind closed doors it rarely happened.
You knew that he was going to be like that, and so you didn't mind it all that much.
It was getting a bit much though when, out in public, he would walk further in front of you and refused to walk next to you. When he pretended like he didn't even know you. When he didn't stop to help you even when another man had shown interest in you, bordering on uncomfortable.
The more time passed the more you simply felt unloved...but for some reason you still blamed yourself.
"...I...don't know. Maybe you find me undesirable, or just...unappealing. Maybe you're embarrassed of me or...or..." maybe you just didn't care in the first place, you thought to yourself.
There was a long silence. Of you turning your gaze away, of him still piercing into yours. And then...
"Tsk...don't waste my time...Leave if you want to leave, door's open,"
Tartaglia
This one is simple. It's his obsession for fighting plus his complete disregard for himself. It's a constant heart attack for you. At some point the anxiety is just too much for you to handle.
Imagine living every day just wondering if he's safe at the same time knowing that he just loves to look for trouble.
The foul legacy that you know of, he uses it with disregard as well, despite knowing that it wasn't good for him.
And there are even days where you know he was heavily wounded but didn't go to you, in an attempt to shield you from worry.
It's a constant battle trying to stay sane and unworried, until one day it all just becomes too much.
"...Nothing I say will change anything, Tartaglia. This is who you are...This is who you need to be..." you whisper while bandaging his knuckles. He lets out a short hum.
It was silent all up until you finished with his hand, you squeeze it gently. "...I love you but...I can't keep doing this to myself, I'm tired...more so than I have ever been before,"
He lets your hand slip away from his knuckles, and that was the last he saw of you.
Thoma
This one is also simple. He was always taking care of others and running errands for others that he sometimes just couldn't catch a break.
Just a classic case of not enough time for you since he had a job to do for the Kamisato Clan.
He knows it, and feels awful about it. So he's the one who makes the move.
"It hurts that I can't give you what you deserve, Y/N. This isn't it... You deserve more than this but I can't give you that and I'm sorry. Please look for the love that you deserve,"
Tighnari
Remembers everything. Can be critical of things you've done, specially if he thinks there's a better way to do it.
Simply said you just feel stupid in front of him sometimes.
He doesn't mean to, but he sometimes forgets to appreciate or give praise to the things that you do well and even if he does, it tends to be short lived compared to his constructive criticisms.
Pretty soon you felt like he only looks at the bad things you do, and never the good. Though he was really only trying to teach and guide you as an equal.
He in fact feels that you are one of the few people who can keep up educational conversations with him.
The problem is he kind of forgets that you're his lover, and that you would enjoy his praise and affection from time to time.
"Do you... Do you ever have anything nice to say other than 'good work' or 'great observation'?" the words were out of your mouth before you could hold yourself back. Sometimes it was tiring to feel like you weren't good enough.
There's a flash of surprise that crosses Tighnari's expression for a split second, before he recovers. "...Had I not been praising your work enough lately? My apologies... It has a lot of merits, I just thought that you wanted my opinion on how to make it better,"
You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again right after to ponder on his words. Somehow even that had managed to make you feel embarrassed. It was here you knew that the problem also lied within yourself.
"...Sorry, Tighnari...I think I'll need some time alone,"
He obliges quickly and asks. "That's reasonable. When would you like me to come back?"
"...Let me rephrase that... I need some time away. From us."
Xiao
Unfortunately there's a lot of things wrong here... his lack of affection. His aloof personality. His dedication to his yaksha duties. Despite that he does actually try to be gentlemanly or respectful of you.
The worst of it is that he didn't know how to be in a relationship, in other words he just wasn't ready for one, or perhaps he would never be ready for one.
He didn't understand that humans craved companionship and sometimes touch. He didn't understand that meant having to favour you over others, sometimes even putting you first over his yaksha duties.
Worst of it all was when he shut himself off from you, sometimes for days on end, when his karmic debt was too high. He only really did it to protect you, but never realized how isolated that made you feel.
When you confronted him about it, he felt attacked. Hiding away was the only way he knew how to cope...why couldn't you understand that?
"Let me help you, Xiao,"
"I don't need your help!" his tone would make you wince and just like that he disappears into a billow of smoke.
You never returned to Wangshu Inn after that. If he couldn't let you in, there was no use trying to knock on his heart. Xiao being Xiao, never sought you ought again either.
Zhongli
He had experienced so many things and you had listened to many a tales from him.
This is what caused you to realize that you hadn't even experienced life at all, and yet here you were willing to tie yourself down to him.
It just didn't feel like it added up. Here he was with all this knowledge of the world and here you were who had never even stepped outside of Liyue. By no means were you stupid, but you felt that you could be better not only for him, but for yourself if you learned more.
There was just such a huge gap in life experiences, and though you never expected to get to his level (he was a God who had lived for a long time, you would never catch up to him) you at least wanted to see what was out there with your own eyes instead of through his stories.
He understood that wholeheartedly, and had no qualms in letting you go.
"You will always have a place with me, Y/N. No amount of lifetimes will change that,"
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Disclaimer: Relationships will always have some sort of problem along the way, maybe big, maybe small but I just want to reiterate that breaking up is not always the solution. Communicating is very important. So to those of you who like taking fanfiction too seriously, let it be known that this is just a work of fiction. I don't actually suggest breaking up with someone as soon as there is the slight indication of a problem (Just saw someone commenting on a similar themed post for Haikyuu that this wouldn't happen in the real world if both parties were mature... I mean, sure, but, idk, you must be fun in parties... it's called fiction for a reason...)
#genshin angst#genshin breakup#genshin headcanons#lyney x reader#genshin impact angst#lyney angst#neuvillette angst#neuvillette x reader#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham angst#cyno angst#cyno x reader#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche angst#diluc angst#tartaglia angst#itto angst
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As an ambulatory wheelchair user I have so many thoughts about how people draw/write disabled!Scar. This is sort of a guide/insight from a disabled person about writing/drawing disabled people.
Specifically in regards to wheelchair users.
Do not get me wrong, this fandom is genuinely probably the best group of people I have ever seen when it comes to drawing wheelchairs. I do not believe I have ever seen Scar fanart where he is in a completely unusable, horrible, hospital chair. It is so clear people have taken the time and energy to research into wheelchairs and I love it. I am in no way saying stop that.
I just think people could maybe put a little bit more consideration into him being disabled beyond visual appearance.
I saw a really amazing artwork of SL!Scar and he is in a sports chair. Which is really cool, in many ways, as it shows some thought being put into the setting. If I were in combat, I would in fact like to not be knocked from my chair or have my chair tipped over.
Yet, you have very limited mobility in a sports chair. It is, by design, made to prevent you from tipping over. Which means that you are incapable of going over bumps, really, let alone natural terrain.
Just in general, there really is not any wheelchair that exists in our world that would allow wheelchair users to exist in a setting like the life series.
So, I have some ideas:
- Horses. Hands down my biggest suggestion. Especially with Secret Life they fit in very well with the setting, everyone uses them, and it fits the bill perfectly for what he would need. Especially considering Scar is an archer, it makes a lot of sense for him to be on horseback. It suits him and his style of fighting so well.
- Some sort of redstone power chair. There are all sorts of ways you could design something like this. Perhaps with pistons that push down against the ground, allowing for jumps. Perhaps just a series of pistions functioning as like a bunch of little spider legs. There are a lot of things you can do with that, you can get very creative.
- For my Vex!Scar lovers, you could have magic be used as a mobility aid. Perhaps a magic wheelchair, or perhaps a magic exoskeleton.
And with all of the ideas, considering how they fit into the setting really changes everything. What are the strengths? What are the draw backs?
With horses, they are strong and fast and agile. But they are big, it is hard to fit into small spaces, and they can be killed.
With some sort of redstone chair, I feel as though it would make sense for it to be robust and strong. Depending on how it is constructed, something fast and agile or perhaps something a bit slower and more clunky. Is it loud? How would stealth work in something like that?
When it comes to any sort of magic you do not want it to fix the disability. It is a mobility aid like any other. Not perfect, not the same as not being disabled, just another tool with its own unique draw backs. Perhaps magic is draining or it takes concentration. Would he tire quicker than others? Would he require food quicker than others? Is it possible for him to lose focus on it in a stressful situation, leaving him stuck until he can calm himself down?
Other things to consider are really specifically the setting as well as what disability you are giving him.
I feel as though on Hermitcraft an option like a redstone chair just makes a lot of sense. Multiple redstone chairs, even, all constructed differently for different uses. Such as ones for building. How does long distance travel work with the chair and how you lore your setting? Is it something he can put in his inventory? Is it something he remains in when using an elytra? Does that have any draw backs, such as being slower or needing more rockets or being less coordinated in the air?
I feel as though in the life series a mix of vex magic and horses makes a lot of sense. The magic is good for small spaces and short trips and emergencies, but it is too tiring to travel across the map with and too much effort to maintain when he needs to concentrate on battles. That would be where the horse comes into play.
As for what disability, well, it truly depends. Most of my rambles here have been based upon paraplegia, because I often times see people making him an ambulatory wheelchair user just because they do not know what to do otherwise.
Not that making him an ambulatory wheelchair user is a bad thing by any means. I am one and I adore reading stories like that. It is just a bit clear that a lot of you are quite lost as to how to navigate hurdles disabled people face, so you make it so he can walk over those hurdles. Which, once again, I am not shaming you for! This post is just to show there are other options
But in the case of him being an ambulatory wheelchair user: why is he one?
Mobilities aids are disabling unless you need them. You cannot access spaces or you do not have hands free or any number of things. What to the Scar you are writing makes using mobility aids helpful instead of a hindrance? What times are they more trouble than help, and what cost is there for not using it?
A good example is if Scar can walk around short distances with minimal difficulty/drawback, but long distances are painful or physically not possible.
Look into different disabilities and consider it. A lot of people tend to default to chronic pain because that tends to be quite a common one across a lot of disabled people, but there are a lot more different reasons why.
It could also be that he is very slow because of his disabilities. I have muscle weakness sometimes because of my FND, and it is like moving through sludge whenever I try and move.
It could also be that the mobility aids are a preventative measure. He does not need to use his wheelchair, unless he has done too much walking and then his body refuses to support his weight. He does not need to use his wheelchair, but when he does not he is a lot more likely to dislocate something and then yeah he can't walk. He does not need to use his wheelchair, but he is a fall risk especially after a lot of walking or running. Him being in his wheelchair prevents him from falling! (And if he's a fall risk, maybe he's strapped in too!)
I just have so many thoughts and I wanted to share them.
I see so many of you putting in effort already and it warms my heart. It is why I feel comfortable enough to make this post, because clearly you all care a lot about representing disabled people well.
:]
If you have read this far thank you so much. Let me know what you think or if you have any questions.
Edit: I made a rough redstone wheelchair design. It is one of the few reblogs that has comments, if you filter for that you should be able to find it. If not, reply to the post and I can send you the link to it. :]
#Mod Tim (He/Him)#Sort of#MCYT#GTWS#scar#goodtimeswithscar#life series#mcyt#secret life#hermitcraft#hc#disabled#disabled scar#actuallydisabled#representation#disabled!scar#wheelchair#wheelchairs#ambulatory wheelchair user#fantasy wheelchairs
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When It Rains, Why Does It Pour?
Summary: Sand is quite a nuisance, it creeps into every crevice and no amount of dusting can free oneself from its stubborn hold. Yet, the tide still greets the shore.
Word Count: 8.8k (oh no...)
Tags: Neuvillette x GN!Reader, human!reader, SFW, fluff, childhood friends AU, Slow Burn, Slow Fic, Angst, Hurt with Comfort, themes about reincarnation, TW: Themes about death and loss, themes about aging, immortal x mortal AU, not lore accurate, reader is an attendant, human prejudice, Spoilers Warning: His story quest and archon quests, speculations about his past in Fontaine, why is he so mysterious
Authors Note: This was a challenge trying to write from the POV of a man you don't even know the name of, but I just had to write something for him. A character study of Neuvillette. Enjoy!
How long has it been since he first arrived here? One month? Two? Or perhaps it has already been a year? The young dragon wasn’t too sure.
The days seem to blend together when one only eats, studies, and sleeps all on repeat. A cruel trait of time. The weather outside the glass windows didn’t provide any hints either.
However, he himself is to blame.
A gray haze concealed azure skies as rhythmic drops of rain hit the earth. Blocking out the all-seeing sun and nurturing moon, the murky clouds above even hinder the stars from accompanying him.
A true reflection of his current solitude.
The young dragon arrived in the human world, brought over by the lord of Fontaine. Due to the nature of his arrival to this nation, he was given status and importance in the eyes of the citizens. However, he has yet to receive acceptance.
The grand estate in which he resides was staffed with countless butlers and maids, renowned chefs, and skilled tutors. He was wanting of nothing, yet still impoverished.
He could see it in their mortal eyes, he could sense it in the tangible silence of the halls, he could tell from the distance each mortal put between themselves and him.
Much like the towering stone walls which surrounded his private residence.
Was it to separate themselves from him or himself from them?
A question he entertains as lilac eyes scan over the aforementioned wall. Its gray stones are a welcomed change from the dry parchment with even drier content.
As he observes the drab stones contrast against a dreary sky, a small flash of white cuts through the somber composition.
Catching his lilac eyes as they follow the strange shape, it drifts through the capricious wind before the breeze grew bored and tossed it to the ground.
Studying it a bit further, the young dragon identifies the object as a simple pillowcase. Nothing more than a scrap of fabric.
He reasons that the wind must’ve stolen it from some clothesline. Just when he was about to return to the legal ledgers a rustling came from the bushes lining the bottom of the wall.
A small frame pushes apart the thick vegetation, creating enough space to finally free themselves from the entangled mess of branches.
The towering wall, the one meant to separate him from the mortals, was defeated by a mere child.
A child who’s clumsy brushing the twigs from their garments and shaking a few raindrops from their hair. He watches as the small human trots toward the discarded pillowcase, a pout forming on their lips as they observe the mud that had seeped into the silk.
Judging by the simple attire they don, they must be the child of a maid.
Ah humans, fickle and temperamental creatures created by the usurpers. It took a conscious effort on his part to stop the frown threatening to appear on his lips.
Seems like he still needs to get used to their presence.
It was as if the child sensed the bitterness in his thoughts because soon a pair of wide eyes connected with lilac. Even with the sun hiding behind dreary clouds, there was a light that twinkled in their irises.
It was only for a minute, no, even less than that. But a young dragon and a young human held each other’s gaze.
The child’s shoulders jolt as they turn their head back toward the wall, as if a voice called for them. Casting one last glance toward the young dragon, the child trots back toward the wall, disappearing within the murky viridescent.
And that was the end, like the breeze that littered a scrap of fabric among the grass, the small human came and went.
Such fickle creatures, the young dragon gives it one last thought before returning his attention back to a cluttered desk.
–
Amongst the soft drumming of droplets came a tap against the glass too sharp to be caused by the gentle rain. Causing the young dragon to turn away from the stacks of books laid out before him.
The wet glass obscured a small flicker of an orange glow, thus he walked closer to investigate. With each step, the figure outside the window became undeciphered.
That small human again.
Locking eyes with the human outside the glass, the fickle creature’s lips curl up, the glow of their lamp illuminating the curiosity behind their gaze.
A human child doesn’t have the potential to cause much if any harm to him. Thus, he releases the lock, removing the glass barrier separating two breathes.
“Hello! What is uh… your name?” They chirp out.
His sharp ears picked up the clumsiness in their speech, the subtle unfamiliarity of the words they spoke. Distinct signs that you were still learning the language of Fontaine, much like him.
Although he understood your question, he was too distracted to answer. Lilac eyes wandering off toward the stone wall. Within the entangled mess of twigs, there was a small parting.
A part just wide enough to reveal the secret the bushes desperately tried to hide: A small hole along the bottom of the stone barrier. Just enough for a small creature to slip through.
Discovering the truth behind how a small human was able to defeat such a seemingly impenetrable wall.
The pattering of the rain was interrupted by the rustling of fabric, drawing his attention back to the small human in front of him.
The child rummages through their pockets before pulling out a lump covered by a handkerchief. Peeling back the layer of fabric to reveal some conch madeleines, presenting fragmented sweets before the young dragon.
“It tastes good, I promise.” A small hand extends itself further through the open window.
Observing the crumbly sweets laid out upon a handkerchief, the young dragon halted the rejection that almost escaped his lips. Remembering the concepts he had just been reading before this.
Humans tend to follow a set of unwritten rules, principles they like to call ‘manners’. There weren’t any punishments issued by law if those rules were broken, no imprisonment or fines.
However, narrow-eye stares and whispers behind backs were the punishments issued to transgressors by society.
So, he accepts a piece, trying to ignore the sand-like sensation against his tongue. As he chewed, the grin on the human’s face only got wider.
“Now that you’ve taken one, you have to give me your name, it’s only uh… fair!”
Ah, it looks like he’s been tricked. Falling into the clumsy sugar-coated trap only a child could come up with. Yet, as his lilac gaze caught the twinkle still ever so bright in their eyes, he didn’t have the strength to form a frown.
Just a curious human child, only as dangerous as a firefly buzzing in his ear. There shouldn’t be any harm in disclosing the surname bestowed upon him by this nation.
“Neuvillette.” He finally said his first words to you.
A peculiar pattern is recurring. That rainy night when Neuvillette opened those windows, it looked like he welcomed a phenomenon in as well.
Even in his current state, a small human like you could pose no possible threat to him. Thus, whenever a certain tap was placed against the glass. He saw no reason to turn away the visitor. Allowing you to climb in through his window time and time again.
It would’ve been better if you used the door. However, he’s aware of the complications such a request would bring.
Perhaps it’s because he’s currently in the form of a young child, sharing a similar stature to yours. From his observations, humans do have a tendency to gravitate toward those with similar traits. Or perhaps, you’re just exceptionally brazen.
Neuvillette glances up from his book, thick with endless sentences describing obscure and frivolous laws, landing on your frame lazing around upon a rug.
One hand holds onto a collection of fables, pages illuminated by the gentle rays of a star. While the other periodically reaches out toward a pile of conch madeleine.
A sight he’s come to expect now.
Lavender eyes follow your hand as it brings another one of the crumbly sweets to your mouth again. You brought them over under the pretense of sharing them with him, yet they’re already half gone. The only hand reaching for the sweets being yours.
Just like how it was last time, and the time before that, and the one before that as well.
If you felt this complacent in his presence now, then perhaps he can be more candid with you. As is common practice among humans to present a polite front that gradually wears away each recurring meeting.
“You do not have to bring over any more conch madeleine.”
The moment those words left his lips the motion of your hand halted, looking up to connect your sight with his, confusion pinching together your brows.
“Oh? Why so suddenly?” The collection of fables now resting on the rug.
It’s already been done, the first ripple in the frangible water between you and him. There is nothing that can cease the waves that accompany the first breach. He might as well say the whole truth.
“They are dry, I cannot fathom how you can bring yourself to eat them.” Prescriptive eyes caught a faint flinch as you processed his edict.
“They taste fine to me…” You mutter, picking another one up.
This time you chewed slower. The pinch between your brow only grew as you tasted the sweet again, searching for the perceived flaw.
As you met his gaze once more, he could tell your search brought forth no fruitful conclusions. Thus you asked another question in response.
“Then what do you like?”
Besides the pleasantries commonly exchanged between humans in Fontaine, Neuvillette recognizes he lacks the talent for small talk.
The room usually filled with your grievances about whichever tedious task you were assigned before you slipped away behind a wall and into his private residence. Ambient noise which accompanied each flip of a law book.
It is long overdue for him to pull his weight in a conversation.
“Water, spring water.”
“Huh?”
Neuvillette repeats his sentence but the scrunch of your brows doesn’t ease up, he couldn’t fight the urge to draw in a deep breath. So this is the limitation of the human palate, how regrettable.
“Perhaps you are still too simple to appreciate the qualities of water.”
The pout upon your crumb-covered lips morphs into a tight line, sealing away your voice. The brightly printed cover of a storybook was shut as the last few remaining treats were bundled away in a napkin.
Your tea break ended early today, impassive eyes following your figure as it disappeared among the thick vegetation beside a stone barrier.
It was quiet today, not even a single parting uttered past your sealed lips. Therefore leaving the conversation unfinished.
But that is today, you’ll have another tea break tomorrow, and you’ll come to him with your grievances about chores tomorrow as well.
The young dragon returns his focus to the text in front of him.
–
The soft hymn of raindrops against a glass window reverbed through the solitary study, providing a melody for the periodic flips of paper. But the melody was hollow, incomplete.
Shifting his body to look behind himself at the vacant rug, Neuvillette deduces why. The accompaniment was missing.
That tomorrow he had come to expect never came.
Had he committed a transgression? Overstep a line outside his place? Food is a point of pride for many humans, one oddity he’s yet to grasp.
These temperamental creatures tend to lash out when their pride is wounded, much like how a beast reacts to an unhealed cut.
Neuvillette was curious as to whether this was an inherent trait of humanity or a learned by-product of the fickle principles imposed on themselves.
However, observing the abandoned storybook tucked away, the young dragon is leaning towards the former.
Turning back to face his desk, his eyes could only glaze over the monotonous scribbles. Perhaps the cause of his spiritless attitude was disappointment, disappointment in himself.
It looks like he was careless, deluding himself with the misconception that you and him were alike. Two outsiders who found solace in each other’s presence.
However, this was false. You were an outsider to Fontaine, but he was an outsider to this world where humans walked.
He’s still too naive.
Fickle and temperamental creatures spoiled by the usurpers at the expense of his ancestors.
Why did he even entertain the thought that you and him could ever be alike?
Something stirred from within, like when pebbles were thrown into still water, but what were those pebbles? As Neuvillette ponders this conundrum, the drumming of the rain grows louder.
However, it wasn’t loud enough to swallow up the sharp set of taps which interrupted his somber reflection. Jolting him from his thoughts, snapping his attention to the source of the noise.
There stood a figure distorted by the wet glass as another set of sharp taps sounded through the room.
Before Neuvillette could even process it, his body moved without his command. Unlatching the lock and setting the window free from its frame.
Not sparing another second to the raindrops soaking into their cloak, the figure clambers through the window with practiced proficiency.
Without uttering a single greeting, not even one pleasantry, you situated yourself on his floor. Melting into an undignified lump on the pristine tiles as bewildered eyes watched you.
After catching a few breaths, an explanation finally makes its way to his ears.
“T-they… they patched… up the hole,” you huffed out between short breaths.
Ah, the small cavity in the stone wall that you used to escape from chores. Looks like the security at the estate finally noticed.
Gauging the height of the wall from his place by the window, he’s aware of how it towers over both him and you the same.
This brings up another question as he returns to observe your frame, still trying to catch the breaths that evade you.
“I… ran… through the gates… before the… Gardes noticed…” Exhaustion evident in your eyes as pants break up your sentence.
Ah, looks like his question was answered before he even inquired. To be puzzled or amazed, he wasn’t too sure how to categorize this ripple inside him.
The tomorrow that’s been missing for a little more than two weeks, is now right in front of him.
Panting and leaving a few muddy traces along the marble floor, but here nonetheless.
With one deep motion of your lungs, you pushed your body up, finally getting ahold of your breath. The familiar rustle of your pocket, the audio cue for a certain dry sweet to appear. Neuvillette didn’t mind in the least.
Perhaps, he can bear the sandy sensation just for today. But tomorrow is always filled up with surprises, a glass bottle finding its way out of your pocket instead of sugary treats.
“What is that?” An obvious question, but his voice found its way out of his mouth.
“Water, water from the servant’s well, I bottled it myself.” A small hand holds the bottle out more.
“Thank you,” Neuvillette accepts it into his hands.
He should really acquire some glasses to pour the water out into, it’s improper and bad manners to drink from the bottle.
However, his curiosity was greater. Or maybe, he didn’t realize just how parched he had become from waiting for tomorrow.
Uncapping the clumsily packaged water, he takes a generous sip.
“It’s sweet.” His tongue picking up on a subtle saccharine undertone.
“Really?” Your hand reaches up as that familiar shine illuminates your eyes.
Taking a sip from the bottle passed back into your grasp, your brows furrowing in concentration. Another sip was taken from the bottle as you continued to search for the sweetness in the water you’ve always drank.
A sight that tugged up at the lips of a boy still studying the shape of your quirked brows.
Humans, fickle, perplexing, yet astoundingly curious creatures from the very beginning.
If he is to walk amongst the human world, then it’s best for him to be equally curious. To try and search for the harmony between two different breaths.
A child of a maid far from their homeland. A status too insignificant to warrant the attention of Fontaine's factions, freeing you from their prying eyes and entanglements.
Therefore, it should be alright for him to continue observing you, no?
“Ahh… The rain is so unpredictable here in Fontaine, trying to hang out the wash here is always a gamble.” You sink further into the plush cushions of his settee.
As the sun rose and fell, as the leaves grew green then gold, as the ground froze and thawed.
One thing remained unchanged throughout these cycles even as they repeated: your grievances over chores.
The frequency of these complaints reaching his ears has increased, on the part that you now took over more of your mother’s responsibilities in managing the laundry of this estate.
Besides your habitual complaints of the weather, one detail didn’t escape Neuvillette’s hearing: your proficiency in the Fontainian language has increased significantly.
Words no longer spoken clumsily or with unfamiliarity. Accent nearly indistinguishable from a native speaker.
“The people here are fond of creating strange machinery, why can’t they make something to dry clothes?” You resume.
The quill in his hand stops as he pauses in the middle of a sentence, glancing over his shoulder toward your slouching figure making yourself comfortable in the sofa that’s more familiar with your shape than his.
“Perhaps you should be the one to create it, studying might do you some good as well,” came his curt response.
His candid advice makes you sink further into the cushions with a groan.
“I’d rather travel than study those jumbled-up books about machinery or whatever, in fact, I want to visit my homeland as soon as I can,” you grumble aloud.
Ah, that’s right, you’re approaching the age where you could travel freely.
By law, you won’t be bound to the side of your mother, not needing any permission to come to and fro however you wish. No longer kept at this estate washing and folding sheets.
Indeed, you and him found yourselves in similar situations: on the cusp of freedom from this estate.
While he was deep in thought, you filled the silence left behind by posing a question to him.
“Do you plan on visiting your homeland anytime soon, Neuvi?”
By now, the young dragon had stopped expending the effort to try and correct you in your butchering of his surname. Your reason being ‘it’s too long’.
Alongside you, he has grown in stature as well, elapsing you some time ago much to your dismay. If he wished to travel, not much would pose a problem to the young dragon.
However… where could he return to? A homeland… was there a section of his homeland untouched by the usurpers? If he were to go, would he ever want to return to this world?
Sensing the change in the air, dreary clouds blocking the sun’s rays from your skin, you were perceptive enough to ramble about a different matter.
Namely, how the chef of the estate recently changed the type of flour used in the kitchens, resulting in pastries and sweets that were less airy but more flavorful.
Explaining to him the subtle improvements and deterioration in the quality of some baked goods. Filling the air of the study with bright-eyed ramblings until rays of light peek out from waning clouds.
–
“Monsieur Neuvillette! It’s been a while since you’ve visited!” Soft patters of skipping steps made their way to the tall man.
Tilting his sights down, Neuvillette greets the cheery melusine with a gentle smile which she returned with an equally bright grin.
While on a routine stroll along the riverbanks to stretch his legs after a long day, he found himself at the entrance of Merusea Village.
He wonders if it's his body’s natural response to get away from the Palais Mermonia and Opera Epiclese.
Carrying him toward the direction of a secluded reprieve he discovered far away from the suspicious eyes of weary humans.
Condemnatory eyes were constantly pinned to the back of the young dragon who had recently emerged from a sheltered estate to sit in the grand seat of a Chief Justice.
Days filled with nothing but a cacophony of voices echoing off the opera house walls. Screams from the accused and the eager murmurs of spectators blended into nothing more than a chaotic din in his ears.
Gazing deeper into the small lake, the unsuspecting entrance to a hidden haven that the Melusines called home.
It would only take a moment, just one dip into the pristine water for him to disappear from the clamorous mortal realm.
Abandoning the overly grand seat of his post as easily as it would take for his head to vanish under the tranquil tide.
How great would it be to exist in the presence of creatures who could resonate with his own adriftness?
Maybe, he could finally discover the purpose of his current form and longevity in their company. Yes, that sounds about right.
Just as the water wet the tip of his overly ornate shoe, all motion his body stills at a familiar call.
“NEUVI!” Came a voice from just over the beaten path.
Soon your silhouette follows the echo of your call, steps hurried yet worn.
When the young dragon departed from his temporary estate and into the Palais Mermonia, a certain specter followed him as well.
The same specter who’s currently huffing to catch their breath after such a rush. Trying to gather enough air to form their next sentence.
“There you are! The grand tailor sent me to fetch you because you’re almost an hour late to the fitting of your new robe, they need to make sure the measurements are correct,” you chide.
The exasperation of your words was most definitely caused by the fact you had to physically exert yourself in your search for the wandering Chief Justice. Evident by the pout on your lips and scrunched nose.
His attention was quickly torn away from your recuperating figure by a faint tug of his slacks.
The Melusine had hidden herself behind his legs, creating a barrier between her and the strange mortal who seemingly appeared from the blue.
Her sudden movement caught your attention as well.
Ah, that’s right. The Melusines have yet to be acquainted with humans, and humans with Melusines.
Two different species, two different breaths, and two different sets of eyes that can’t seem to see directly into each other.
If his time within the wall of the estate and Palais Mermonia had proven anything, it would be the natural adversity humans had to differences.
Neuvillete certainly wasn’t prepared for such an event, nor was he sure how to handle it.
In the midst of his inaction, your hand reached into your pocket, fumbling around before pulling out a handkerchief-covered lump.
Despite the soreness in your legs, you lowered your body until you were at eye level with the shorter Melusine.
“Hello there, would you like some conch madeleines?” Unraveling the fabric to reveal the sweets which you seem to have an abundant supply of.
The grip on his slacks tightened as she glanced up at him, lilac eyes catching the hesitance in her irises. Neuvillette gives a subtle nod, giving just enough reassurance for the small creature to release his pant leg.
Reaching a mitten-like hand toward the golden sweets, it only took one bite for the hesitance in her eyes to be replaced by a bright twinkle.
“It’s tasty isn’t it?” Your lips formed a wider grin.
The Melusine responds with an eager nod, too occupied with bringing more of the buttery treat into her mouth.
At the sight of her restless chewing covering her cheeks with faint crumbs, you let out a giggle.
“I’ll give you the rest of the sweets if you tell me your name,” you offered.
After a few moments of the Melusine finishing her previous bite, she falls for the same trap he had many years ago.
“My name is Carole!” She chirps.
“What a wonderful name.” Your gaze softened further as you held out the treats, keeping your promise.
As Carole reaches for more, she glances back up. Wide eyes twinkling as she inquires him with the one thought currently on her mind.
“Monsieur Neuvillette, does the human world have more treats as delicious as these?”
Ah, it looks like the stroll Neuvillette took today to relieve himself of mounting troubles only led him to more.
The skies over the Court of Fontaine have been in a pensive stalemate, all too familiar clouds blocking azure hues. However, rain has yet to patter on the ground, as if the weather was unsure of itself.
A feeling shared by the Chief Justice currently sitting at his desk, reviewing the details of the day’s trials. Albeit, half heartily.
Much like the skies crowded with clouds, in the solitude of his office, his mind rang loud with thoughts. Neuvillette only had himself to blame for the current silence of his office, it’s been this way for around a week going on two now.
Lilac eyes peered over the tops of the papers toward the shut doors, concealing him away. There hasn’t been a knock on those doors for some time now, due to the diligent Melusines who followed his request.
Turning away potential visitors with crafted excuses of ‘The Chief Justice is handling a very important case’ or ‘My apologies, but the Chief Justice is very busy’.
Neuvillette recognizes that he’s currently no different than a child hiding away from the consequences of a broken vase.
How childish, he chides himself as he returns back to his responsibilities. How would the citizens of Fontaine react to their Chief Justice conducting himself in such a manner?
He’s sure if Lady Furina were to catch wind of his behavior, she’d be greatly entertained.
As if the mere mention of the nation’s archon presented a bad omen, the sturdy doors of his office swung open, revealing the face of a familiar visitor who’s been turned away one too many times.
“My my, it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen the inside of this office, I almost forgot what it looks like,” you remark as your eyes hone in on him.
The child’s hiding place under the bed has been exposed.
“Good afternoon, I was not made aware you had any appointments with me.” Neuvillette’s own eyes trail past yours.
From behind the door frames the figures of two Melusines quickly dodged away from his sight. A silent admission of guilt on their part, and Neuvillette didn’t have to look hard to deduce the crime they’ve committed: Accepting bribes.
The evidence was right there in the form of buttery crumbs left on the corner of their mouths. Ah, you and with those conch madeleines of yours.
It’d be best for him to finally handle the situation at hand, one he’s been trying to maneuver out of.
“If I recall correctly, you were granted a vacation, why not take this chance to travel? It certainly is a prime opportunity-”
“Why have you been avoiding me, Monsieur?” you cut through the long-winded pleasantries and excuses.
His lips press together, by now he’s well accustomed to your brazenness. However, the absence of a familiar name only said in your voice made the guilt weigh heavier on his shoulders.
Guilt which originated a few weeks prior.
—
On a secluded riverbank, a routine walk under clear skies was halted. You were knelt down on the ground, uncaring of the sand sticking to the fabric of your clothes, as you held a Melusine between your arms. Two mittened hands clung to you as she soaked your shoulder with tears.
“W-why? Why did he have to go?” Her sobs interrupted by sudden hiccups.
As you rubbed circles into her back, something he saw humans do to soothe their crying young, Neuvillette watched from the side. Much like how he would observe those performances within the Opera Epiclese.
Liath is her name, a diligent Melusine who patrolled the grounds of the Palais Mermonia. By her side, there would be a guard poodle who’d matched her skips with his prances. An inseparable duo, or it’d be more accurate to say, they were once an inseparable duo.
Dogs are a species domesticated by humans, some might argue that they were created by humanity through generations of selection. So it stands to reason that they too would have a limited lifespan.
In fact, they have a lifespan even more restricted than that of the mortals who tamed them.
The Melusines have just begun walking amongst humans, there were still many aspects their sheltered minds have yet to grasp. The fleetingness of mortality is one of them.
Thus, Neuvillette did his best to caution them.
However, just like how laws can’t completely stop crimes, his words can’t completely prevent such tragedies. All he could do was try.
“I’m sorry for your grief, this was the very reason why I cautioned you against getting too attached to him… A dog’s life is brief-”
“Monsieur Neuvillette.”
The sentence died at the tip of his tongue as his eyes met yours. Gaze narrowed and brows furrowed, not even the Chief Justice dared to interject any further.
After you silenced him, your focus returned back to the grieving Melusine.
Slowly standing back up from the ground, her frame cradled in your arms as her sobs continued.
“I know it hurts,” you whispered, one hand patting her back, setting a steady rhythm reminding her to breathe.
“B-but why? W-why is it so sad?” she hiccuped.
You hummed, beginning to bounce her a bit within your hold.
“Wouldn’t it be sadder if you never met him?”
At your question, the Melusine stares at you through teary eyes. Expression lined with confusion.
“To have loved him, and for him to have loved you in return…isn’t that enough?” You cooed, taking steps away from the riverbank.
Still frozen in his place, the dragon could only stare at your back as it grew further and further away, soon disappearing from his view.
He had misspoke.
Neuvillette recalled last Autumn. As the vivid hues of the foliage shriveled up to nothing more than a shadow of their former beauty, you laid your mother to rest. Burying her in a cemetery which overlooked the direction of your homeland.
His unsolicited reprimand must have been throwing salt into a wound that still bled. He had overstepped his authority.
Murky clouds congregated in the once clear sky.
—
Those were the events that transpired, events that have led to the current stalemate happening in his office. Lilac eyes couldn’t seem to find the courage to connect with yours. Another excuse finding its way to his tongue.
“Didn’t you want to visit your homeland?”
“Oh?” Your brow quirks up, as your hands find their way to your hips.
“And then who’d be here to repair the tears in your robe when you inevitably step on them?” Obviously unimpressed by his suggestion.
“Surely there are other talented tailors here that can handle the task,” he rebukes.
“Oh? Will they also untangle your hair from the ornamentation of chairs?” You press on.
“I can manage.”
“Then can the Chief Justice also manage all the uniforms for the Melusines? Can he sew every button and ensure they fit correctly?”
Ah, with your last statement, Neuvillette concedes. A hush fills the room.
The Melusines are still new to walking amongst humans, not many were willing to tailor specialized uniforms for their short stature. Thus, you took up the mantle.
Perhaps out of a sense of responsibility, it was you who stirred their curiosity with those sweets of yours.
It seems responsibilities tethered you to the Court of Fontaine, much like they did to him. After a few breaths, as always, your voice shatters the stalemate.
“I’m not upset, Neuvi.”
With those words, his lilac eyes finally connect with yours. Finally able to see the soft curls at the corners of your lips.
It indeed has been a while since he last saw such a sight.
This time instead of replying with an excuse, he responds with a gentle hum.
“Ugh, why are your curtains so dusty? When was the last time you went outside?” It wasn’t long before your attention returned to the state of his office.
Strolling past his desk, your hands began to fuss with the thick drapes. Pouting at the dust that coated the lush fabrics.
All Neuvillette could do was follow with his gaze, papers long pushed to the side as for the first time in a while, an azure hue was seen peeking through the clouds.
From his observations, it’s instinctive for humans to avoid pain. However, it’d be hypocritical of him to judge mortals for actions he’s been guilty of.
“If I knew I had to work this hard now, I would’ve skipped more chores back at the estate,” you chuckle, pulling back the drapes to allow gold to illuminate his office.
To have loved and have been loved in return.
Was this the human rationale behind taming a dog? Having the reality of the future constantly lurking over each happy moment as the hands of time tick forward.
Why do humans dote on pets? Creatures that only live a fraction of a mortal life?
Are happy memories a fair exchange for bitter grief, or are they the cure?
As Neuvillette counts the strands of peeking silver that mingle within your lush locks, he prays he finds the answer soon.
The clacks of ornate shoes reverberate down once unfamiliar halls, a towering figure lurks past bustling nurses who bow their heads at the sight of the Chief Justice as he passes by.
With a body like his, there is no reason for him to wander among these halls. Or more accurately, there once was no reason.
The taps of his soles slowed as a familiar door came into view, the only detail which differentiated it from the rest of the hall being the brass numbers displayed. Bringing up a glove-clothed knuckle, delicate taps were placed against the wood.
Almost immediately, a muffled ‘come in’ resounded behind the frame. Granting the Iudex permission to turn the polished knob, allowing him entry as the hinges sang their welcome.
“My, my, if it isn’t Monsieur Neuvillette, to whom do I owe the pleasure?” A grin spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes.
Instantly his frame stiffens in the midst of returning the door to its frame. Bringing his free hand up to his face, Neuvillette coughs as to compose himself once more.
“Please, forgo the formalities.”
Though your eyes might not be as sharp as they once were, the delicate dusting of pink along his pointed ears couldn’t escape their sight. Making your eyes crinkle more.
Feeling entertained enough, you cease your teasing and gesture toward the vacant chair beside your bed.
Obediently, his towering figure strides up to the seat, the wood squeaking under his weight as he settles onto it.
By now, the dragon has grown accustomed the structure of greetings, beginning with a layer of pleasantries.
“How have you been fairing?” Lavender eyes scrutinize the sheets and pillows, searching for any unapparent flaws.
“It’s just a mild case of pneumonia,” you muse aloud.
Momentarily resting his eyes behind a slow blink, all he could do was sigh at your brazen nonchalantness. Yet with a ghost of a smile on the same lips that sighed.
It was a mild case of pneumonia, a common ailment during the frosty months. For someone as steadfast as you, such an illness might’ve surrendered to your stubbornness.
It might've surrendered… if your body had remained as it once was.
How unfortunate it all is, that time is so cruel to mortal creatures.
Attentive eyes detailing each crease that settled by your lips, remnants of the many grins and laughs that stretched your face.
The basking light of a selfish star catches in your hair, lush hues that have faded to brilliant ivory. A shade that you often compare to his while jesting, ‘We match now’.
However, Neuvillette begs to differ, the sunlight is much more luminous in your tresses.
Trailing his sights back to your gaze. Deep lines formed by countless dynamic expressions drew attention to the glimmer forever present in your irises. Like paths on a map that led lilac eyes to yours.
“How are you finding your stay?” At times, Neuvillette found himself wondering how the azure tides appeared from your view.
“Mm, quite uneventful, eating, staring out a window, sleeping.”
He hums in response, contemplating if he should inquire you about such subjects. As you ramble, perhaps the dragon could grasp onto an inkling of understanding.
“Well, at least I can say that my stay has been anything but lonely.” Your eyes motioning toward a corner.
The bland, sterile wall overshadowed by a mass comprised of trinkets ranging from local flowers to any object whose surface catches light.
The heap grows day by day as each Melusine continues to bring their earnest gratitude to the human who sew each stitch of their coats. A sight that could stir even the most placid lake.
“They’re such sweethearts.” Each one of your words coated with endearment.
Once more, all the dragon could respond with was a mellow hum. Slow breaths fill the complacent silence between two species, one blessed by time and one shunned by it.
Neuvillette has grown accustomed to the structure of conversations but, alas, he still has no talent for small talk.
In the absence of dialogue, the layer of short pleasantries long dissolving, Neuvillette is left with nothing but his inquiries. It was all he had left, and so it was all he could offer.
“Are there any regrets you hold?”
“Oh oh? Getting sentimental so out of the blue, Neuvi?” A familiar quirk graces your brow.
“It’s nothing of the sort, just a musing that drifted in my mind during a stroll, I wish to know your thoughts on the matter.”
“Mmm… I don’t feel that I have any regrets, living an honest life and having the fortune to never have stepped foot in the Fortress of Meropide.”
“Is that really all? You never did get to travel like you dreamed of back at the estate.”
“Haha, trying to stump me with that, Neuvi?” you chuckle.
Relaxing more into the pillows which propped up your weary frame, you trail your sights toward the window.
“Didn’t I tell you already? I’ll have plenty of time to travel once I become a cloud, I can go everywhere the sky can reach.” Smile softening on your lips.
Neuvillette’s folded hands grasp one another tighter on his lap, his own lips pressing each other into a thin line.
The conversation was teetering closer and closer to the unspoken reality looming like a shadow in the room.
He wasn’t sure when it started, maybe when the first silver strands appeared in your hair or when you discovered his skin won’t wrinkle along with you.
He wasn’t sure when your adamant belief of becoming a cloud once the shadow came to claim you started.
Neuvillette wonders if this daydream was the product of those fables you browsed when you laid upon a plush rug.
Or was it your personally crafted fable to explain the incomprehensible to a creature who couldn’t fully grasp it?
A creature whose skin didn’t wrinkle, whose bones didn’t grow brittle. A creature seemingly untouched by time.
Fairytales do serve this purpose for children, magical fantasies to make uncomfortable realities palatable to naive minds.
“...vi?... Ne…?... Neuvi.”
A hand marred with age takes hold of one glove-clad hand, and a pleasant heat radiates through the leather. Coaxing Neuvillette’s attention back from its escapade.
“My apologies, I was lost in thought for a moment.” He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.
But the frown weighing down on your lips didn’t disappear, much like how retreating into musings couldn’t wash away any shadows.
Your chest moves with a deep inhale.
“Maybe I do have one regret,” you began.
Readjusting your ailing fingers in his hold so that he could hold them with equal endearment, his ears concentrate on your voice.
“Actually, I have many,” you sigh.
Before he could formulate a response, you continued.
“I wish I could have shoulder the burdens you carry. I wish you would’ve shared them with me. And I wish I could even understand them, then maybe I could have understood you more.” Turning to face him, your disheartened eyes center on his frame.
A child born from a maid, a maid who traveled to Fontaine in hopes of a better future for her child. That was your origin, an outsider with neither fame nor fortune.
Thus, even as you followed him from a secluded estate to the grand Palais Mermonia, you could never follow him in status nor influence.
As unrest grew, as injustices mounted, and as tragedies took away friends.
All you could do was repair tears, sew buttons, and pour him a crisp glass of spring water as you waited for the storm to wash despair away.
That was how you saw it. But Neuvillette rebukes that notion.
The dignity of a newly established Chief Justice, who kept stepping on his overly ornate robes, was carefully maintained by you.
The Melusine’s uniforms, which solidified their presence in the human world, were crafted by you.
The patient hand that always offered silent comfort in the suffocating courts was yours.
Standing by his side, even as your bones grew to ache, to ensure the storm would pass and the sun emerge once more.
“You’ve done more than enough.” He states the truth, grasping your hand just a bit tighter.
“Are you sure?” Those airy chuckles of yours made their appearance again.
“I never even learned your real name,” you interject.
A knife, red hot and fresh from the forge, would have hurt less than the guilt which tore through him at that moment.
The Chief Justice, the symbol of honesty and conviction, is unable to tell the simplest truth.
What shall he do now?
The power of a name is often underestimated, the exchanging of names signifying the forging of a bond. One that would forever tether him to you and you to him.
Oh, what shall he do now?
Before his hesitant lips could take action, they were halted by a squeeze from your ailing grasp. Firm and warm, like a light that guides him up from the bottom of a turbulent ocean.
“You don’t have to tell me now, Neuvi, tell me when I come back from my trip.” Those gentle eyes of yours smile at him.
Reeling his hand in closer to you with your own, until the softness of your lips was felt along covered knuckles.
A common practice in Fontaine, one Neuvillette had witnessed time and time again as he passed the lovers who congregated by the Fountain of Leucine. Actions that dedicated promises to one another.
“I swear, once I’ve traveled enough, once I grow bored of foreign scenery, I’ll fall back down like rain to your side.” You whisper into the kiss.
It was his turn now, and he shall honor this ritual. Tenderly bringing in your hand to him, Neuvillette places his oath.
“Then I swear, when you return, I’ll tell you my name.” He whispers in the kiss.
The sterile rooms echo your airy chuckles as he keeps your hand close to himself for just a bit longer.
“Mmm… Where I should go first? Maybe I’ll just amble about,” you ponder aloud.
Gracing him with a smile which stretched your face and brought that familiar glimmer into your eyes.
“I wish you well on your travels.” Neuvillette presses another kiss into your knuckles.
–
Spring was always the rainy season for Fontaine, with gentle temperate showers to welcome the budding blooms back from their Winter sleep.
However, this year the torrential downpour was anything but gentle.
Planned trips canceled for the season, clothes remaining damp in baskets, and streets empty of their vigor. Even the Melusines couldn’t bring a skip to their steps.
It was as if time itself was slowed by the burdensome downpour.
The cawing of crows as their wings beat against the dreary winds adds to the lonely hymn sung by the raindrops.
At once the cadence of the rain increased, the downpour growing heavier, and the violent pattering grew deafening. As if the sky was now belting out their sorrowful ballad.
The rain could try. The skies can cry all they would like. But time, a cruel and unforgiving mistress, won’t ever stop.
To have loved and been loved, was it truly enough?
In Neuvillete’s eyes, he was the tide and you were the shore. The ebb and flow of water as the tide and shore met, time and time again.
Each crash into the shore stirred up something perplexing and disorderly within the tide, irritating like the sand that mixed into the pristine waves.
So the tide tried to retreat into the lonesome ocean.
Each time, the shore followed through grains of sand which the tide couldn’t ever seem to purge himself of.
Each time, the shore beckoned the tide to return to the sandy beaches of humanity filled with perplexities and disorder.
And each time, the tide surrendered to the call of the shore, lured in by its warmth.
But now, the shore has eroded away.
Where does the tide go now?
Drifting now in the vastness of a lonesome ocean, carrying nothing grains of sand. What shall the tide do now?
Neuvillette still has a lot to learn, for he couldn’t answer this riddle conjured by his own mind.
Unable to stop himself, the lone dragon stares off into the rain.
Eyes honing in the direction of a peaceful hill, one where a mother and child were laid to rest side by side overlooking a homeland they never got to visit.
Maybe that was the first destination of your journey.
During these past short years spent in this land, the young successor of the dragons has gained traitorous knowledge. One that undermines his preconceived purpose.
Neuvillette feels he’s grasped onto the faintest inkling of why humans, as fickle, perplexing, and fleeting as they are, were still the most beloved creatures of the gods.
Perhaps, he even understands now why those usurpers were willing to uproot the earth just for those beloved creatures.
The wet season transitions into the dry season, then the dry season will transition into another wet season. Again and again, on and on as the hands of a clock ticks forward.
Each new tick signifies another step forward in the march of time.
Each step brings change and each step pulls the present away from the past.
The rainy season of Spring was no longer as troublesome as it once was, as there was now a machine on the market that could dry clothes without the help of a bright star.
Melusines skip along down the paved paths of the Court of Fontaine as humans turn to greet them with endearing smiles.
New cafes line bustling streets as Clockwork Mekas make their evening patrols.
A great many changes have come to Fontaine, Neuvillette witnessed them all from his office at the Palais Mermonia.
A great many changes, yet some things are bound to stay the same. For example, the Chief Justice’s fondness for strolls along vacant riverbanks.
The gentle patters of raindrops lull the chaotic sympathy of trials, paperwork, and duties to a standstill. Reaching a hand out in front of him, Neuvillette catches a few drops in the palm of his gloved hand.
Lilac eyes examine the diminutive puddle in his hand before ultimately releasing the water back to the earth.
He supposes he’s been feeling a bit nostalgic as of late, like a child recalling a story which once soothed them to a peaceful slumber. How childish it was for him to believe he could somehow catch a certain raindrop in his hands.
Turning up toward the drab sky, he searches through the endless and identical droplets that fall down and leave trails along his face.
No, not yet. Perhaps they have yet to see all that the sky has to offer.
Neuvillette returns his focus to the path in front of him. The rhythmic clacks of his shoes match with the soft drumming of the rain, and in the midst of this harmony a voice singings out:
“Hydro dragon… uh… Hydro dragon, don’t cry.”
Halting his stride. Judging by the unfamiliarity of their tongue pronouncing the lullaby, Neuvillette deduces they must be a visitor to Fontaine.
Ah that local legend, just how far has it spread? Nevertheless, an unfortunate traveler who’s unfamiliar with Fontaine’s seasons is now caught in this rain.
It would only be polite to offer them some assistance as the Iudex of this nation. Thus, he turns in the direction of the call.
His suspicions were confirmed once his gaze landed on a distressed frame, their face obscured by the jacket they held over their head in a makeshift umbrella.
It only took a few steps for the towering man to make it to their side.
“There is a tree you can take shelter under just ahead,” he advises the lost traveler.
Now aware of his presence in front of them, they lifted the jacket from their line of sight to peer up at him. Revealing the details of their face to lilac eyes for the first time.
That was all it took for the symphony of rain to come to an end.
Soft drumming decrescendos into tranquility. It seems as if there will be an earlier welcome of flowers.
“Oh?” You gaze up at the azure hue now peeking out from receding gray, astonishment reflected in the glimmer of your eyes.
You’ve only heard of a local Fontainian legend from a guide pamphlet offered to tourists as you awaited the Aquabus.
When the rain suddenly began to pour as you ambled about a riverside, in a moment of desperation as you scrambled for shelter under a thin jacket you uttered the phrase.
You weren’t sure if the hydro dragon could understand your botched pronunciation, but it looks like he did.
Turning back to face the kind stranger, you wanted to convey your amazement to him. But the words fade just off the tip of your tongue when you peek back at the towering man.
Your eyebrows scrunch together as dumbstruck eyes widen at the sight of the drenched man.
“Mister?… Are you alright?” You scan over him, turning your attention away to sift through your pockets.
How bewildering it must be for you to witness a well-dressed and noble figure drenched to the bone. However, Neuvillette made no attempt to stop the rivulets rolling down his cheeks, a parting gift from the Spring showers.
He wonders as his gaze never left your frame, were tears perhaps this warm too?
“Here.” Your concern-ridden hand offers up a neatly folded handkerchief to the drenched man.
As your eyes connect with his, a strange sensation tickled the back of your mind. As if it was trying to recall where you’ve seen the familiar lavender hue.
Maybe they matched the shade of a flower field you stumbled upon during your travels, or maybe that lilac luster was revealed to you in a dream.
A strange familiarity you couldn’t name.
“Thank you very much.” He accepts the simple piece of cloth with tenderness rivaling that of conservators handing the renowned paintings of old masters.
The clouds were long gone by now, perhaps they felt that their purpose had long been fulfilled. The golden rays of a lone star shone with all their brilliance, finally free from behind their blanket of drap clouds.��
It was only now that Neuvillette found out. The rain he had been yearning for all these years did in fact see all that the sky had to offer.
They had grown bored of drifting over vast plains, missing the picturesque countryside of Fontaine. Or perhaps their curiosity grew too great, wishing to finally hear a truth that was kept from them.
So much so, they quietly fell down from the sky, to return to his side again.
Much like the hands in a clock, the cycle of water and earth follows a similar circular path.
The rain had eroded away stubborn earth with its diligent drumming over the years.
Bit by bit and piece by piece until stone fractures into bits of sand. Over and over until a sandy beach was formed by the side of a patient sea.
Then the tide will reunite with its long-awaited shore, to return the sand and promise it cradled within its waves for so long.
~Fin
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.
#vivalabunbunfics#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x you#neuvillette#genshin impact x reader#genshin angst#genshin fluff#genshin x y/n#genshin x you#neuvillete x reader#neuvilette x reader#neuvillette fluff#neuvillette angst#genshin impact x you#genshin x reader#neuvillette headcanons#neuvillette x y/n#neuvilette x you
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OUTLUCK THE UNLUCKY !
˚₊‧desc— Kakavasha and his little sister has always been the polar opposite, they say he was born lucky and you were lucky to even be born.
˚₊‧TW— dark content, incest, angst, noncon, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, mental abuse, past child abuse, human trafficking mentions, past trauma, PTSD, porn with plot, baby fever, non-consensual breeding, mentions of lactation, sister wife!reader, yandere!Aventurine, 2.0 and 2.1 lore did not happen here, spoilers for Aventurine's backstory, both of them gone through some tuff stuff
˚₊‧A/N—I made a few changes to Aventurine's backstory and 2.0 w/ 2.1 lore didn't happen here. I changed up my writing style!! Do you like it? Don't read if it's not ur cup of tea hun
Ever since you were born just a couple of years after Kakavasha—your big brother. You were disgraced, labeled as an unlucky being said by the Sigonians.
Whereas Kakavasha was born on a rainy day which was perhaps meant to be a blessing. Meanwhile, you were born on an unlucky day and just moments after your birth, your mother died.
Though as you grew up, you became attached to your big brother. A contrast to your unluckiness, his blessing outpowers your curse therefore you two were bound to be attached to the hip.
A curse you were called, but never by your siblings. They loved you dearly which includes you sister who promised you and Kakavasha the dawn one day.
But the promise were never fulfilled because your sister had died as soon as your birthday arrived. You ran away with Kakavasha.
Soon the both of you were caught and sentenced to death by the IPC— but your brother got the both of you out of that punishment, you never knew how he did it and the only thing he told you was 'not to worry.'
You fit into the lifestyle pretty quickly, everything was done by your brother. You just had to sit still and be pretty, as he said.
Soon he became the very thing that ruined yours and his life—an IPC staff, but still you couldn't shake the very feeling that you both were still just a slave, no matter how much credits you were buried in.
You were granted a house, a luxurious one, probably afforded from the IPC's money. He was doing everything for you, even though you wanted to help him at least a little bit.
You wanted to alleviate his burden. But seeing the very thing that burdens yourself—you don't think that you could help.
So you did the only thing that you could manage, become a housewife for him. At mornings he would wrap his arms around your waist and sometimes you felt like a real marriage couple.
He gives you kisses on your cheek as he stares at the wound you received from chopping up the vegetables— again.
Sometimes he would bring your fingers up to his lips just to lick them clean just to see your embarrassed expression.
Which brings you to the present situation.
"Kakavasha—I.." you were cut off with a groan from him as he hides his face in your neck.
"Don't call me that, I go by Aventurine now with other people, remember?" his breath hits your soft skin before he snakes his hands under your blouse.
"We're not in front of other people now.. And it's not like I get to meet anyone else.." you mumble—far too late to take back your words.
He gives you an 'mm' before gripping your sides harder that it was sure to leave a bruise. From his reaction, you were sure he wasn't pleased with your words.
"You don't need anyone else but me, you know that right?" he mutters before helping you to put down the knife you were holding to chop the vegetables.
"I know that.. But I haven't gone out ever since we've gotten this house.. And that was a few years back."
"But I do let you out. To buy groceries."
"Kakavasha—you know that's not what I meant. I want to go out freely, without you sending those IPC guards after me or tracking me.. Or even—!"
"[name]." the tone in his voice makes you stop, you know that's when he's fed up with your words. He pulls his hands out of your blouse before staring at you.
He grabs the sharp and brandished knife before gripping your chin with his free hand to make you face the knife, you could see your reflection.
"Look at yourself." he grips your chin tighter, "Do you see your face? It's full with scars that results in whenever I'm not there—remember, you're the unlucky child who needs me as a lucky charm to protect yourself."
"You need me." he drops the knife on the cutting board before kissing your lips and biting your lips until it bled.
He sighs as his demeanor starts appearing right back and he smiles on again with the same, sly smile.
"Don't speak of this again." he warns you before kissing your cheek and walks away like nothing happened at all.
He waits by the door as he tries to fix his tie, horribly messing it up once again before you came to the rescue and does it for him.
"I'm going now," he says as he puts on his shoes, "I'm going to be late today, don't wait for me." he merely says before placing a kiss right on your forehead.
Once he leaves the house, everything seems dark. Sometimes it seems like that you were the epitome of darkness—and he was the light that shines on your life.
Whenever he isn't there, parts of you disappear.
"Big brother, we can't leave our sister behind!" the small you sobbed when he pulled on your wrist to drag you forcefully from the chaos.
"Sister sacrificed her life for us, we have to run,[name]. I promised sister I won't let anything happen to you." he stops for a moment as he looks right into your teary eyes.
You stared back at the chaos happening behind you, that day—everything was red like the clothes you wore on that exact day.
You were dragged once again to keep moving forward by Kakavasha, but once you stared right ahead—the little hand dragging you were gone.
The only light within your life was gone, where did he go? What are you gonna do? What would you do without the light that guides you—you thought as you broke down in sobs until your body felt a warmth wrapping around you.
You can hear your name from the distance being called once again, it's Kakavasha. You were sure it was as you open your eyes to come back to the real world.
"[name], wake up. You had a dream." your brother— the grown up version of him was her once again and you sigh in relief.
You hate that dream—it was the same dream with different endings. One that would have a happy outcome.
"Did you have that dream again?" he asks and wraps his arm around you, it was the same warmth in that dream.
You hum as he sighs once again, in a pitiful way or somehow a sympathetic one. Eitherway, his hand snakes just above your waistband and sticks his hand in your panties.
"Mmn—" you groaned and look at the time, "Stop it, I'm not in the mood.." you retaliate, sometimes he would back off at times like this—especially during your vulnerable moment.
"I saw a baby today at my workplace, one of my co-worker's no doubt. They looked so happy, can't we have one too?"
"I—you know we can't have that. We're siblings, what would the world says?" you push his arm off that's groping one of your boobs.
"I don't care what people says about us, I don't even care how the Aeons view us." he moans as he humps your ass.
"Stop it, 'm not in the mood right now.." You whimper and attempts to get away from his obvious dick imprint humping you.
He stayed silent and kept a tight grip on your hips, sliding your shorts and panties off with his other hand.
"We're not supposed to be doing this.." you mutter and almost retch as he forces his fingers in your mouth.
"Just be good for me, little sister. Haven't I done enough for you? I need this." he says, not giving you a chance to respond as he's already pulling his fingers out of your mouth and already sneaking between your thighs.
"You say things as if you aren't wet right now.." he spreads your lips apart to admire your pussy before giving a testing lick and moans at the taste.
He wraps his lips around your little nub as he sucks on it, thrusting his fingers inside whilst licking your slit up and down.
Your first reflex was trying to push his head off—moaning and struggling to push him off so you laid off the fight and just accepted it after awhile.
"Pussy's so wet, stop lying and just tell me that you wanted this." he pills away and sighs as he finishes his meal, your juices slipping down his chin.
He licks his lips and pushes his cock inside you, not even giving you a warning or time to wait. He groans as he pushes in all at once.
"So good, mhm. You're so good to me, lil sis. Gonna make you a fucking mommy! yeah, you want that?" he slaps your face almost gently to wake you up from your trance before groping your tits.
He leans down and sucks on it, appreciating the size of it while he sloppily thrusts his big cock inside of you.
"Fuck, fuck.. Can't wait to see these tits swell with milk." he moans and looks at your face, you seemed so out of it.
He can't miss the way that your lips scream the words trailing along, "I'm coming! I'm coming!" in an almost high pitched tone.
When you clench around him, he doesn't even stop for a moment. Just going at a faster pace which makes you even more out of it as you hold onto whatever you can.
And when he cums— he pulls out and shoves it back in all at once making you squeal and raise your hips as you came once again.
"We're gonna do this for at least another three times, I need to make sure you're knocked up." he groans as he felt you clench.
As he thrusts deeply once more, you can feel a part of yourself disappears. The warmth you felt from him was no more, instead what you felt was pleasure—accompanied by a sense of sadness.
You can feel tears hitting your cheek and you look up to see your big brother crying, while also trying to maintain a stable composure.
"I don't want to lose you." he sobs out as you reach for his cheek to caress the soft flesh. He leans into your soft touch with reluctance, so hesitant to show a moment of vulnerablity to everyone except for you.
"I can't lose you, please don't leave me as everyone did. You're not— you're not the source of anyone's misery, I didn't believe it when you were called unlucky. Because to me— you're the very thing that made me so happy, I want to be with you forever. I don't care if everyone else leave me."
You smile—not because you find this situation comforting, because it was so incredibly hysterical that he depended on you as much as you depended on him.
Once he's faced with your smile, he loses his composure and spills his seed in your womb while hiding his face in your neck again.
"I don't care how many nightmares I have from that night, I don't care if everyone blames you for our parent's death. All I want to be is with you."
That's when you realize, he is stuck with you just as you were stuck with him.
#tw.noncon#tw.dark content#tw.dubcon#tw.incest#aventurine noncon#aventurine x y/n#aventurine x you#yandere aventurine#star rail aventurine#aventurine smut#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine#aventurine honkai star rail#aventurine angst#angst#hsr angst#yandere hsr#yandere honkai star rail#honkai star rail smut#honkai star rail#honkai star rail noncon
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Hi, are you still looking for Baldur's Gate 3 requests? Could you please write something about the main BG3 Companions (+ our boi Halsin) with a Tav/reader who's really short and adorable and just an absolute sweetheart but is horrifyingly powerful in their lore? Like NPCs who know about them back away in fear kinda thing. Maybe Tav can even transform into some sort of battle form where they're like 9 feet tall (as opposed to their usual height of like 4' 10") and can absolutely kick ass on the battlefield?
Thanks so much, I hope you have a wonderful day! Take care!
bg3 companions with a adorably powerful tav
Navigation | More Weirdos | AO3
synopsis: Who could imagine such a sweet thing as you had the reputation of a hero?
warnings: companions (lae'zel, shadowheart, astarion, gale dekarios, wyll ravengard, karlach, halsin, jaheira) x tav. fluff.
note: thank you for your request! oh gods how i missed writing headcanons. i hope you like this, have a wonderful day!
Lae'zel
Lae'zel knew your shared condition had a cure, and was willing to put herself in danger by taking the entire party with her to the nearest crèche. That being said, how couldn't she judge you?
You were too easy on everyone. Making promises you clearly shouldn't, taking them seriously despite her best efforts to put some sense in your head. The party was supposed to only stop walking when surrounded by githyankis, but no burdened tiefling or hurt animal escaped your careful gaze.
That you knew how to fight surprised her, but to see fear and admiration in the eyes of civillians... that made Lae'zel pay more attention to you. You had a reputation. Not as a writer, bard or patron. You're know for striking down your enemies.
Fighting at the goblin's camp, there were so many oponents even Lae'zel didn't knew if it would be her last fight. You saw it too, so you made sure to use everything you had to win. Even if you would rather not turn into an eldritch creature.
She got enchanted by your battle form. Steel and iron where nothing against the pure strenght of your skin. Whatever crossed your path that day suffered at your hands.
That was the first time Lae'zel got happy for being wrong about someone.
"Perhaps I've judged you too hard. You are fierce, foracious, as sharp as my sword and as brave as a red dragon. Keep on surprising me and a istik you'll be no more."
Shadowheart
Shadowheart couldn't care less about the tieflings and their problems, but it was endearing to watch you wandering throught the Coast in an attempt to ensure their safety. It was a sight she couldn't expect to observe in this journey, not when considering the worm twitching behind her eye and the artifact messing with their dreams.
Still, you could shut down her biggest fears with ease. While she tried to remain quiet, you were full of kind words to share with whoever was near. You care for all beings, great and small, and Shadowheart can respect that. A person without a truth to follow is empty, but one with a mission turns into so much more than just a walking corpse.
She focused on protecting you during fights. Always giving you some sort of magic shield, casting sanctuary, begging you to drink potions and elixirs that would keep you safe.
Goblins attacked, and for a second everyone was too surprised to react properly. Except by you. You were quick to defend your party, to fight for them, and won a fight no one was preparad to.
Shadowheart decided not to underestimate you again. Kind words, gentle actions, caring gaze: she was so focused on her own view about you that forgot to pay attention to the way everyone else saw you.
You're powerful. The kinda of powerful that their party had to be grateful that you were fighting besides them.
When you revealed your beast form to her, Shadowheart already knew you were a sight to behold.
"You are full of surprises, aren't you? Good. I like how you keep me on my toes, love."
Astarion
In theory, he should've been delighted with your personality. You were the perfect prey. A leader so sweet, he could change your mind at his will and you wouldn't even noticed. Others respect you. Astarion would be safe and sound.
But Astarion isn't capable of forgetting how easily you fought back when he tried to fool you. How he didn't even saw you moving, and was alone on the floor before he could understand what had hit him.
Instead of a person, you were a walking question mark. How can you be so sickenly adorable, and still so ready to strike down your enemies? Were did the sweet half of you finished and the other one started?
People know you. He saw respect in druid's eyes, fear when goblins heard your name. Halsin knew about you. And so did Minthara.
Few are able to live up to their reputation, but you're one of those. So strong, so brave, but your kindness wasn't ignored by him. It was as if in your head the whole world deserved your kindness, until it did no more. Only then you react.
Astarion don't know what to think about it.
When you attacked as a beast, tearing spiders apart as if they were a piece of meat in your plate, Astarion laughed until his belly ache.
How could be so right and so wrong about someone?
"Don't mind me, darling. I'm just rejoicing at the sight of your bloody hands. Come here. Let me taste your heroic mess."
Gale Dekarios
Gale learned two things about you when you pulled him out of stone: you were kind, and so damn strong.
You were adorable. A perfect equation between what people must do in order to survive and what they must do in order to live well. He can't see you not being surrounded by friends and admirers, all enchanted by your sweet words and rightful attacks.
He feared the party's reaction to the Orb, but a part of him knew you would let him stay. He never imagined you would give him magic artifacts without a second question, or that you would hug him after he told you his whole story.
You didn't let him go. Neither did Gale.
To say he was willing to agree with whatever you did was to say his heart beats. It was only natural. Maybe you both differ on the path you want to take, but the destination is usually the same.
When he saw you feral, body changing to give space to something else, Gale wondered if he was one of those enchanted people surrounding you. If he wasn't fighting for his life, Gale would gadly gaze upon you for the rest of the day.
"Disgusted? I was unable to look away from you! You are the one I love, no claws or tentacles will ever change that. Must I add, my love, your light remains strong in whatever form you decide to use."
Wyll Ravengard
To say the least, he's a fan. Oh, how lovely are the tales of your adventures through Faêrun. He remember arguing with bards about the accuracy of their versions and the reason behind their choice of words. You were what a hero must aim to.
How long were the nights he spend wandering after he was casted out of Baldur's Gate. Lonely nights, but never silent. Wyll's mind fought against itself. He lost everything to help and protect others. Sometimes he worried if he had lost himself too.
Your tales weren't his salvation. None of them shut down those voices that insisted on telling him about the mistakes he made, neither did them shut Mizora. But they inspired him. If you did all those things, remained human even as a beast, he could survive a talkative cambion. Wyll Ravengard can defeat her by staying loyal to himself.
Wyll didn't had to hear your name to know you were fighting next to him, defending the grove against goblins and worgs. He saw enough drawings of you to recognize you from miles afar. When you asked him to be a member of your party, Wyll felt as if a million fireworks exploded inside his chest at the same time.
He did felt anger and pain because of the tadpole, but never fear. Fighting beside you, Wyll knew he didn't had to fear for his future. And after seeing how willing you were to argue with multiple cambions, he started to have hope.
"I used to read about legends, myths of bravery and rightousness. Some see it as just tales for the naive. Thank you, my heart. For proving them wrong time after time."
Karlach
She's the only one with an excuse for not knowing who you are. When strangers call you by your entire name, when companions use your epithet: Karlach just never thought about it. She ignored it, paying no mind to others.
But Karlach did knew you were a absolute sweetheart. What you didn't had of height you compensate with a gigantic personality. For her, the way you behaved was simply alluring.
While many prefer to think the world is a bad place and no one living there can chose to be or do better, you are just another reason for her to know that it's bullshit. Because Karlach is good, despise it all. And Wyll. And you.
And Minsc!!!
You had a fire on you whenever you had to fight. She didn't need to know your story to see how great you can be. Some people just have that. She don't know if that fire is born or forged, but some people just have it.
To see you as a beast made her the most happy woman in Faêrun. She got speechless, all she could do was laugh and run around to have a better view of you ending the Steel Watch.
"You got 'em, soldier! Go on, bite his arm off! You see that monster over there? The one with glowing eyes. That's the love of my fucking life."
Halsin
He saw you before. Druids and harpist fought against sharrans, and you were one of the heroes who joined their cause. At that time Halsin didn't talked to you, but he knew you fought until the very end and stayed to help with the infirm.
When you rescued him, Halsin knew you remembered him too. There was some understanding between you both, a companionship that only those who foght together can share.
He knew you were a hero, one of those who fight wars that don't affect them because someone needs too, but your personality was a good surprise. Halsin haven't imagined you so easy going. Always offering smiles, light jokes, being clumsy without a care when danger was far away.
After the battle against sharrans, he thought those who refered to you as a monster were trying to make others understand how eficient you were. It surprised him to see they were just being honest.
Nothing would stop Halsin from turning into a bear and joining you.
"In this damned city, you are a beacon of hope. The Oak Father graced us with your light. From your fiece strikes to your honey soaked words... I am lucky to live at the same time as you, my love."
Jaheira
As a fellow adventurer, it surprised Jaheira that you weren't already tired. You both lived for so long, did so much, it would be only natural for you to give a pause on your endless smiles and envied patience. She was wrong, but that wasn't a bad thing.
Jaheira knew how this life can steal things from you. Peace feels like a threat, to stop make you feel like a prey, to laugh makes you wonder if it will be the last time. Is impossible to be a hero without losing. She's glad you didn't lose yourself in your path.
There was an unspoken pact between you both. The stories, the songs, the faux memories. So many think to know everything about you two. Sometimes Jaheira will read you a book you're in when she knows it's a shameless lie, and you sing her songs about adventures she did not lived.
Your laugh could make her feel younger. Alive. You both were so differents, but knew each other in a way few could.
Whenever you chose to strike as a monster, she would join you as a myrmidon and had her fun. You both deserve it.
"I did well not underestimating you, cub. It is impossible not to laugh at those who can't see how your bright smile hides sharp fangs. As pretty as a diamond, and as fierce too."
if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡
BALDUR’S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies
@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.
#madwomansapologist#ask box#bg3#baldur's gate 3#shadowheart x tav#shadowheart x reader#shadowheart#lae'zel x tav#lae'zel x reader#lae'zel#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#karlach#karlach x reader#karlach x tav#halsin x reader#halsin x tav#halsin#gale x reader#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios x reader#gale dekarios x tav#gale x tav#wyll ravengard#wyll ravengard x reader#wyll ravengard x tav#jaheira x tav#jaheira
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— 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧.
✦ info: he's so, so in love with you.
✦ warnings: not proofread.
✦ featuring: jing yuan, gepard landau.
✦ notes: please do know i've done no research i only know bits and pieces of actual game lore these are simply self indulgent and silly Thoughts i'm having about them in the middle of the night <3 (i have no clue what this is i js think it's cute)
— smitten! jing yuan, who thinks of you all day, every day, while doing his official duties, while sparring with yanqing, while speaking with officials, even just before his afternoon nap.
(the strangest of things remind him of you: an oddly shaped rock takes him back to the time when you baked something for him, and the dew shining on a leaf brings with it a recollection of the sparkle in your gaze. it is almost as if you've claimed more than half the space in his head, stubbornly refusing to surrender it into the hands of his daily tasks.
well, he's certainly not complaining.)
— speaking of afternoon naps, smitten! jing yuan, who dreams of you while he dozes in the afternoon. he doesn't remember all of them, but he adores the warm, fuzzy feeling he wakes up with.
— smitten! jing yuan, who names one of his birds after you. he tries not to pick favorites, he really does, but there's just something about the way this little one tilts its head that reminds him so much of you, how can he not like this one the most?
(yanqing once caught him affectionately cooing at the bird with your name. he brings it up every game of starchess they play, hoping to distract the general from stealing another one of his pieces. jing yuan knows what he's doing though, and still ends up stealing a piece or two.)
— smitten! gepard, who writes letters addressed to you every single day while he's away. some he sends, some he keeps. but every single one of them is filled with all the things he thinks of telling you while you're not by his side.
(the ones he keeps are the sappiest, full of things he's too shy to say to you— about how he longs to return to your warm embrace, about how he wants to taste your cooking, about how he wants to lie in your lap while you pet his hair. perhaps one day, he'll find the courage to say them out loud?)
— smitten! gepard, who finds himself murmuring your name, over and over when he's idle.
(sometimes, if there's a tune running through his head, he sings out the syllables of your name, before catching himself in the act. he shakes his head at himself, red dusting his cheeks, but a tiny smile plays at his lips nevertheless.)
— smitten! gepard, who doodles your name (and perhaps a drawing or two) on a spare piece of paper whenever he's lost in thought. he'd never dare do that on official paper work, though, no way, none at all.
(except... one fine day, he ends up drawing one of his infamous sketches in the margins of a very important, incredibly serious, highly official report to the supreme guardian herself.
he only notices at the very last minute, right before submission, much to his mortification and relief. thank the preservation, he thinks as he redoes it, for—well— preserving his dignity.
who knows how much his sister would have teased him if she found out?)
taglist: @ilyuu @ineshapanda @supernova25 @kissedbysilk @vixianne
(bold = unable to be tagged!) please fill in the form in my profile to be added, and send an ask to be removed!
#—💡#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#jing yuan x reader#gepard x reader#gepard landau x reader#gepard x you#jing yuan x you#honkai star rail x you#hsr x you#jing yuan#honkai star rail#gepard#i'm drowsy rn but this makes sense to me#if it doesn't make sense in the morning#oh well
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Tranquil SAGAU - Part 6
-> Part 1
-> Part 5
With Dvalin gone, you were left basically homeless. Not that it was much of an issue, not really. The forests had been very kind to you -- you could easily live the life of a hermit if you so wished, without having to worry about food, water, shelter or animal attacks.
But it would also be horribly lonely. No compassionate silence, no background noise and buzz of other people scurrying around and going about their day without minding you, no one to speak to if you ever felt the need to.
You liked being alone, but you were still human and humans were social animals.
Soooooo, you promptly asked Crepus about working in his Winery in exchange for accommodations, because 'one that asks, does not stray'... or something like that anyways. Your sister always made her life that much harder because she outright refused to ask for help even when hopelessly lost or overwhelmed, so there must be something to the saying at least.
"You don't have to work to earn your keep, (Name). I'd be more than happy to house you as my guest for however long you want!" is what Crepus 'Sunshine Personified' Ragnvindr responded with.
Crepus used Puppy Eyes, it was super effective!
You laid defeated, a puddle of cuteness overload once again wishing for sunglasses to protect yourself from the blinding smiles and imaginary wagging tails.
Crepus was horrible for your heart.
Still, you would go insane if left with nothing to do for days at a time, so you went to turn the Ragnvindr library upside down with Crepus' blessing, a bunch of notebooks, a bunch of pens and a delusion that you'd do any actual studying in there.
This was Teyvat, but this wasn't Genshin Impact -- a library wouldn't have interesting lore, it'd have dry history and even drier geography, accompanied by boring economics and even more boring politics (which was a damn shame too, politics were so interesting when written right).
You never quite had a head for those, prefering subjects with more practical applications that could be practiced instead of having to be beaten into your thick skull until you memorized it just long enough to write the exam.
Though for some ungodly reason you still remembered that onions were actually leaves. It was one of the very few things you remembered from school, actually.
Probably the trauma speaking.
Still, you did find some interesting books - a diary speaking of the Decarabian rule, for example.
Today, I don my very own Windblume.
I can only hope Lord Decarabian never learns of its' significance.
. . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The winds are particularly harsh today.
I am afraid, but I smile and play my lyre as if nothing were happening at all, like I always do.
Sometimes, I forget if what I do is to reasure the people or to delude myself that everything is as it should be...
Then again, does it matter when the result remains the same?
. . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The people are growing restless.
Their yearning for freedom gave birth to a small wind spirit that seems fond of my playing. It is an adorable being, even if it has yet to communicate with us.
It remind me of a newborn puppy.
. . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The people are planning a rebellion.
I want to help, but how can I? I am no soldier, my strength lays with the pen and the lyre, not with the sword.
Ragnvindr told me there was no need for more warriors, that I was doing enough by keeping the morale up with my performances... I am hesistant to believe him.
. . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The little spirit has spoken for the first time today.
It said that it knew the song I was playing, despite it being a new piece I was in the midst of creating, and sang along to lyrics I had yet to write.
It was strange, but it made me happy nonetheless.
Perhaps I was strange too, for feeling that way.
. . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
You had a suspicion on who the author of the diary was by that point. Maybe Crepus would be open to giving this diary to Venti, instead of it gathering dust on the shelf?
Idly, you wondered how it had survived so long, but figured Ragnvindr and his descendants took good care of it.
I met Ragnvindr today.
Something compelled me to share my worries with him, even though I knew he had enough weight on his shoulders and I ought not to add more.
"If you cannot trust in yourself, then trust in me and my trust in you instead" he told me.
It helped.
. . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
Meetings regarding the rebellion are more and more frequent. Ragnvindr, alongside a man named Amos, have convinced the Gunnhildr clan to participate against all odds.
I can understand their hesitance. Should we fail to kill Lord Decarabian, their legacy would be no more.
I admire their bravery.
. . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
The wind has long since realized change is imminent, even when Lord Decarabian himself has not - the little spirit said so.
King of Gales indeed, even the wind has rebelled against him.
. . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
Ragnvindr speaks of a bad premonition.
In truth, my heart is uneasy as well, but how can I share those feelings with anyone but myself? It is not the time to bother others with my issues -- it is time to reassure everyone, to rouse their spirit and not to let fear take root even as they stand against a God. It is my duty as a bard and as a fellow rebel.
The Windblume feels particularly heavy as I write this.
I fear I will not live to see tomorrow's sunset, but I fear for my dearest friends and for Mondstadt even more.
. . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
My little spirit friend is still without a name.
I know it does not bother them, they are the wind itself after all, but I would still like to give them a name others can remember them by.
A name that they can remember me by once I pass on, selfish as it is to bind an immortal to a memory.
But I am selfish, even if Ragnvindr may see me as a paragon of virtue. I am a human and to be human is to be flawed. I am not ashamed of it, even if I often feel guilty for it.
Perhaps it will be the very last thing I achieve in this life of mine.
It is hard to name them.
I've thought of many names up until now.
Caelus. Liberius. Aella. Calliope. Achill. Carmine. Hilarius. Hanne. Zephyrinus. Dieter. Sascha. Scilla. Paulus. Notus. Veronica. Agna. Vergil.
Those are just a few of the ones I discarded.
None fit.
I can only hope the right name reveals itself when it is time.
. . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
That was the last entry.
You closed the diary and carefully put it aside.
☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* ✨ Author Note✨
It was not supposed to be mostly nameless bard POV via old diary.
It really wasn't.
Mans literally kidnapped the chapter entirely against my will while I was half asleep yesterday and attempting to write at nearly midnight and I was powerless to stop it, on god.
But hey, at least we got potential Venti bonding set up for the future?
I was planning for more fluff, but I also have no outline for this, so my chapters have a chance of getting kidnapped at any time.
✨BY THE WAY!!!!✨
The charm of spontaneous writing, I guess?
If you have something you want to happen - for example we're in the library right now, so maybe you want a book about a specific tidbit to appear - do let me know, maybe I'll write it in!
I had 2 tests and 1 retake yesterday and holy shit i got through all of them and tomorrow is last day of uni then it's ✨HOLIDAYS✨
✨Taglist✨
@game-savvy @chaoticfivesworld @mmeatt @avalordream @ymechi @andromeda-gay @naynayaa @undecidingfate @thedevioussmirk @tumb3ld0wn @balaur-bondoc @yi-chii @yarabutterfly @nervouseaglelover @vexingpraedyth @indelible-colouring-markers @whitefantasy21-blog @kapitankarate
#genshin sagau#sagau x reader#sagau#genshin impact#x reader#genshin x reader#isekai#x gender neutral reader#x gn reader#x gn y/n#self aware genshin
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