#I ramble a looot so I hope this is coherent.

[pyjamaenzel]

I hope this might be helpful, as someone who feels like they only just recently began to understand aromanticism. I'm in my 30s and ID'd as asexual since I was in high school. I honestly don't remember where I learned the term, I just know I was adamant it described me. i just wasn't experiencing what my peers were with the hormones and celebrity crushes and everything. You asked me if I thought someone was hot and my response was "how am I supposed to know??" I was keenly aware there was something different about me.

At the same time, I knew I wanted companionship, and was terrified I'd never have it because of all the expectations surrounding relationships, including sex. However, if you asked me what my ideal partner looked like, I don't think I could tell you. I had no idea whether I was attracted to men or women or what, because I didn't seem to be experiencing what everyone else called "attraction" at all.

When I was 18 I had my first and only crush. It was a deeply weird experience. She was someone I only knew through the internet, and quite a few years older, and had a boyfriend, so I knew from the beginning it was never going to work out. However, I still experienced that Rollercoaster romantic media describes: the giddiness, thinking about her all the time, etc, complete with "crying on prom night because she wasn't there with me". It was honestly surreal, and I do remember thinking "wait, all this isn't just made up??? this happens to people regularly??" I was young and dumb and confessed to her anyway because I thought that's what you're "supposed" to do. In hindsight I definitely made things very awkward for her and it was probably the reason we fell out of touch. Anyway. (I feel like I should also note I had never seen a photograph of her.)

A couple years later, a long time good friend of mine asked me out. (Ironically, neither of us were out as trans at the time, so for all appearances we resembled a straight couple.) I was unsure, but accepted; my reasoning was "I should probably try this dating thing out since I never have. Also I enjoy [friend]'s company and don't want to make [her] sad."

We dated for maybe 3 months. I could tell there was a gap between our feelings for each other. She loved going on dates and giving big gifts as displays of affection, and I slowly realized that the attention was way too much for me. (thankfully she never pushed me to do anything I was uncomfortable with, especially physically. ofc fast forward a decade or so and she comes out as ace too, lol.) I couldn't exactly put my finger on it, but I could tell that we just weren't having similar experiences.

At the same time, every time we went out on dates I found myself thinking about another good friend of mine. "I wish I could tell them about this funny thing, I wish they were here right now, I miss them." Etc. None of the ups and downs, highs and lows of emotion of having a crush, just a very simple "I want to be in this person's presence and share my life with them."

So, I worked up the courage to break up, and told the other friend that I liked them, because that was the only frame of reference I had. (my ex and I remained good friends, which I'm grateful for.)

It worked out, I guess, because we've been together roughly 13 years now. My partner is also ace & aro. I personally don't identify as aro (yet?) because I'm still sort of feeling things out, but from what I've read and understand, I seem to be grey-aro. Both of us are uncomfortable with public displays of affection, & I've never felt the need to adhere to any romantic traditions over the course of our relationship. the only thing special about Valentines Day is the discount chocolate. We just...like being around each other, having someone to talk to that we don't need to mask for, that enjoys a lot of the same things.

Both of us are fairly introverted (my partner more than me) & we've described it as "you don't count as a person" (which I know sounds terrible lol) but what it means is "you don't drain my social battery like other people do."

We plan to get married for the legal status, though disability has complicated that. But neither of us are really interested in a ceremony.

Calling it a "romantic relationship" or a "platonic relationship" both feel sort of incorrect to me. I can't really explain why. I know labels can be pretty subjective; I thought I had a concrete understanding of what aromanticism meant, but the more I read the more it seems a lot of the things I attributed to being ace are considered distinct from it by other people, if that makes sense.

If anyone who experiences romantic attraction wants to explain how it feels to them, I'd love to hear it– especially if you are polyamorous. How do you differentiate friends from romantic partners (if you do)?

[whitewolfandthefox]

The Call of the Wild: Part 8

Summary: Astarion is delight to discover your true nature. The pack begins it hunt.

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Words: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions of torture and injury, whole lotta angst, some panic and looots of unhappiness, implied suicidal tendencies

A/N. This is a little later than I had wanted to get it out, but I spent the entirety of my day sanding and raking. We are renovating my kitchen, so that’s fun. Enjoy this next chapter, we’re about halfway through babes! Thank you to everyone who has been with me since the beginning, and welcome to the many, many people who have joined me along the way! As always, come yell at me in the comments or reblogs, I love it!

Chapter 8: Breaking Point

A sharp pain brought you back to awareness as you lifted your hand to your neck. Your fingers felt something warm and sticky, your breath catching in your throat as you pulled them away to see blood coating your fingers. You hadn’t been wounded on your neck, where was the blood and pain coming from? 

You remembered striking, burying the stone in the guard’s neck, feeling the hot blood spray from his neck as it covered your hands, running down to stain his tunic. You remembered the power that had surged through you before you collapsed, remembered directing it to the pain, wanting to help, to heal. 

Again your hand lifted, finding the wound at the same place you had injured the guard. You thought back to when you had healed Geralt, waking up to find new scars on your side. Maybe this was part of your powers, you healed others by taking the wound onto yourself. You struggled to sit up, feeling the warm blood trickle slowly down your neck, bleeding into the cloth on your chest. 

A sound drew your attention outside of yourself. You looked up to find Astarion staring at you, a delighted look on his face. His expression unnerved you, his happiness was always associated with pain and hurt for you. 

“You’re a healer,” he breathed. “This is amazing, you’re exactly what I’m looking for. I’ve always found fighters or strategists, you’re the first healer I’ve studied. Someone like you could have saved my family from dying.”

As he spoke, he stood and started pacing, hands waving excitedly in the air. “That wound would have killed him, but you, you will be fine! You will heal and be on your feet in no time. You could have taken the sickness that killed my mother, my siblings. You could have saved my father when he was attacked by your wretched kind. None of my spells could, they were too complex, needed too much energy. But your healing ability wouldn’t need that much. You saved a man from death, and it only cost you a few moments of consciousness. Once I find where your power comes from, no one will die needlessly!”

Your heart sunk as he continued his manic rambling, speaking about how he would be able to save humankind, how you were the answer to all of his questions. Despair filled you, devouring every other emotion and leaving a bleak void in its place. You weren’t getting out of here alive, not unless someone came to get you. And no one would. Your friends had turned on you, your family dead. No one knew where you were. You were all alone. 

The world shrunk, all that you knew was your pain and your despair, nothing else mattered. You would die here, that you were certain of. As Astarion left your cell, you curled into yourself on the floor, tears running down your face. You let yourself fall into darkness, your only escape from the hell that was your present. 

**~*~*~*~**

Geralt pushed his pack hard, no longer hampered by waves of pain. The lack of hurt worried him, feeling only exhaustion and misery leaking from you, a bleak emotional landscape full of hopelessness. He tried to push hope back to you, but any attempt to reach you was blocked. 

As the days pass, the pack slowly loses speed, Geralt growing increasingly frustrated at their lack of progress. Yennefer finally snaps at him as they are gathered around their campfire. 

“Geralt, we can’t keep going at this pace!” Geralt glowered at her as she spoke, not acknowledging her words. “Ciri is exhausted, and the rest of us are close behind! Just slow down a little bit, we will still get there.”

The large man didn’t look up, refusing to discuss any changes to the fast pace he had started off with. “If Ciri gets tired, she can ride on my back. We need to move fast.” 

Yennefer scoffed, “And the rest of us? What happens when we can’t keep up? Are you just going to leave us behind? And what about when we get there? Geralt, we need to have the strength to actually be able to defend ourselves. Or are you just sending us to our deaths?”

Geralt rounded on her, “She’s dying, Yennefer!” he roared. “Every day I can feel her slowly getting weaker! She won’t respond to me anymore, she’s given up. I can feel her fading; she won’t last much longer.”

His chest heaved from his outbreak, fear glistening in his eyes. The camp was silent, Yennefer lowering her eyes at his words. With a growl, Geralt spun and stalked away into the woods, dropping into his wolf form as he took off running. Yennefer drew a hand over her face, a sigh escaping her lips. 

“Who are we searching for, Aunt Yen?” Ciri nestled herself into Yennefer’s side, looking up at her with wide eyes. “I know it’s another shapeshifter, but Papa seems so worried.”

Yennefer stared down at Ciri, violet eyes concerned. At last, she looked away as she responded in a quiet voice. “Sometimes shapeshifters find people who they have an instant connection with. Y/N helped your papa when he got hurt while he was away, and they have one of those bonds.”

Ciri was staring at her with wide eyes, Jaskier trying to look as if he wasn’t eavesdropping on the other side of the fire. Yennefer managed a wan smile at the two of them. “You’ll have to ask Geralt if you want to know more, though. For now, we should get some sleep though.” 

Yennefer ignored the sounds of protest as she stood, ushering Ciri off to her bedroll, Jaskier close behind. She tucked the blanket around her, smoothing her hair off the child’s forehead as she placed a gentle kiss on her head. “Will Papa be back soon?” 

“Yes, sweetheart, he just needed to run for a bit. You will see him in the morning.” The sorceress placed a gentle hand on Ciri’s cheek, pushing a gentle sleep suggestion at her. She sat with the young girl until her eyes fluttered closed and her breathing evened out before getting up and finding her own bedroll, setting a spell to alert her when Geralt returned to camp. 

**~*~*~*~**

The pain continued, though you no longer felt Geralt’s presence. It was getting harder and harder to return to your human form after a change was forced upon you. You’d given up hope of rescue after overhearing two guards as they passed your cell. 

“It’s been two weeks since the most recent one got here, which means we’ll probably be looking for a new one soon.”

“Yeah, they don’t last much longer than that. Just look at it, it’s stopped moving. We don’t have to beat it as much to get it to change.”

You had been in your fox form at that point and you hadn’t moved as they walked past. You lifted your head to glare at them, pulling your lips back from your teeth as a weak growl rumbled out of your chest. They had laughed and kept walking, leaving you behind as your heart sunk, laying your head down on the floor and closing your eyes, letting the defeat that had been gnawing at your edges sweep over you. 

You didn’t bother changing back to your human form; you weren’t sure that you even could if you had wanted to, you were so tired. Astarion entered your cell early that morning, guards posted at the door as he entered in case you decided to attack. 

You lifted your head mournfully, ears pressed against your skull, but other than that you didn’t move. Astarion grinned sharply. “Ah, finally. Your spirit is broken, my sweet. You’ve realized you have nowhere to run and no one is coming to save you.”

Your thoughts briefly turned to Geralt before you scolded yourself sharply. No one was coming to save you, you were on your own. This was where you were going to die. You remained passive as the sorcerer manhandled you, a whimper passing your lips as you felt the knife pierce your skin. 

Astarion shushed you, a hand stroking your fur possessively as you squeezed your eyes shut. “You were so strong, my sweet, you did so well. I have done so much research, learned so much from you. Your contribution to my studies is greatly appreciated.”  You yowled as you felt a bone in your front right paw snapped, the pain shooting up your leg into your shoulder. You collapsed as the man continued speaking. “The pain will end soon, little creature. I am almost done with you and then you can rest.”

You fell into a haze of pain, the words fading into the background as you let yourself drift. The only coherent thought you had before you fell into the familiar darkness should have frightened you, but it didn’t. The phrase repeated itself over and over again, consuming any other thought you had. Please just let me die.

**~*~*~*~**

The pack has stopped for a brief lunch, a companionable silence falling over the clearing. They had been moving fast, though not as fast as when they first started out. Geralt had realized Jaskier and Ciri couldn’t keep up with him and had adjusted his pace. This didn’t ease his worry though; he had tried reaching out to you again, only to be rebuffed. The pain you were experiencing had only grown, blocking any attempt he made to reach you.

Please just let me die. 

Geralt shot to his feet as fear flashed through him. The others stared at him as he threw things into their bag with no regard as to where they landed before slinging it over his back. 

Yennefer spoke first, concerned at the frantic motions coming from the Witcher. “Geralt, what happened?” Her tone was urgent, breaking through the haze of panic that had consumed the man. 

“She wants to die; she won’t live through the night.” he managed to get out, gesturing at Ciri to stand. “We have to run, we have to save her. Quickly, shift. We must go.”

At his words, the other three flew into action. Geralt fell forward as he shifted into a white wolf, a golden lion cub falling into place beside him. Yennefer shrunk into a black raven, flying high in the sky to scout as a honey badger pulled itself onto the back of the wolf, winding its claws into the silver fur to secure itself. 

Geralt looked at Jaskier on his back, receiving a nod before turning to Ciri who was growling low in her throat, claws kneading the ground as she waited to run. The wolf threw his head back as he howled, the lion next to him adding her voice to create a discordant sound. The forest around them went silent as the predators began their hunt, their fast lope eating up the ground beneath them. 

They ran for hours before finally arriving at the dark clearing that housed the keep. It was an intimidating structure, towers reaching high into the sky, grey stone framed against the skyline. The pack could see guards scattered around the entrance and along the roof. Staying low in the trees, the honey badger leapt off the wolf’s back before the two animals were replaced with the figures of Geralt and Jaskier. Ciri quickly followed, creeping into the underbrush to watch the dark structure as Yennefer, in her raven form, looped back from over the keep, landing and shifting back to her human form. 

They stayed silent, waiting for her to approach. The keep was mere meters away, the forest having been allowed to reclaim its stolen space as the years past. As she regained her equilibrium, the small group quickly shed their extra gear, cinching their armour tighter and ensuring their weapons were within easy reach. 

“There’s definitely a shapeshifter in there,” she spoke as soon as she had knelt next to the two men. “I can hear a faster heartbeat, it’s not a man’s rhythm. That must be her.” 

Geralt shifted, staying silent as Yennefer continued to speak. “We should be able to enter through the back gate, it’s not as heavily guarded. That’s where they’re keeping her as well. I think she’s on a lower floor; we might even be able to find a closer entrance.”

As Geralt opened his mouth to answer, a scream tore through the silence. The Witcher went rigid, a look of utter terror crossing his face. Before anyone could react, he shot out of the treeline with a roar, sword seeming to leap from its sheath to his hand as he raced towards the guards. 

**~*~*~*~**

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Witcher taglist: @riviawitch3r / @scarlettwitcher / @ayamenimthiriel / @uncoolcloudyhead / @secretsthathauntus / @vintage-mind-young-body / @creamysacrilege / @hina-chans-stuff / @bastardfruitsandbasil / @shewritesinthethirdperson / @widowvinter / @unnamedmaincharacter​ / @thenocturnalsyren​ / @loudlycolorfulkryptonite​ / @whatawildone / @geraltmrwitcher / @psychosupernatural / @chickennooget69 / @widowvinter / @just-antiyou / @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot

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