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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 day ago

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I wonder what would happen if the Glorious Masquerade gang and the PlayfulLand group swapped places 🤔

I've previously speculated on what Rollo's interactions with Ace, Ortho, Lilia, and Leona would be like! However, those were written under the pretense that there would be an event directly following Glorious Masquerade in the in-game timeline (so the other 11 NRC students would walk in already knowing what went down the first GloMas). The Anon above seems to be asking for a slightly different scenario in mind: what if the Playful Land attendees went to the Glorious Masquerade and the Glorious Masquerade guests went to Playful Land to begin with?

Instead of linking you to those old posts (since they're running on a slightly different premise), I'm going to present you all of my thoughts in this post that you're currently reading!!

Please note:

I will assume the same major story beats play out. The focus of this post is how Rollo, Fellow, and/or Gidel would interact with a different cast of characters, as well as how the NRC boys would react to the new circumstances they are in.

For simplicity’s sake, I will also assume the same SSR trios (even if I think other characters could be as meaningful in those roles); this means SSR Ortho, Ace, and Kalim vs Rollo and SSR Malleus, Idia, and Azul vs Fellow and Gidel. There will be a more intense focus on the interactions between these characters over the others, as well as how they problem solve.

The same rarities apply for everyone else. That means Floyd stays a SR in GloMas, Silver stays a R for Playful Land, etc.

I won’t be talking about Yuu and/or Grim’s roles in these events since they’re present in both and don’t play a large part in the conflict and its resolution. (The latter also applies for Trein.)

Technically I believe only the SSR trio of GloMasq learned about Rollo's motivations in detail, but 🤡 I think it'd be so fascinating if other characters knew and reacted to this knowledge too, so I will be writing my thoughts about that.

Are you ready? Then… Let’s go to the Glorious Masquerade/Playful Land!!

Glorious Masquerade:

Lilia

Gramps would have so much fun exploring the city and learning about its history! He'd be especially fascinated by NBC, since he hasn't had the chance to visit its campus before.

Praises Rollo for being so young yet so knowledgeable and respectful of the City of Flowers' history. It has changed so much since Lilia was last here! They're... amicable enough at first, but Rollo doesn't care for Lilia's penchant for surprises and sometimes juvenile proclivities.

Aggressively cuddles the community goats. (“They’re almost as cute as I am!”)

Of course, Lilia will have to pick up souvenirs for all of his children back home.

Lilia quickly becomes chums with the gargoyles as soon as he realizes they’re alive. He’ll talk about wanting to bring Malleus next time to see the talking gargoyles, which evokes a dark chuckle from Rollo.

Lilia would probably also be busting a move and spamming so much fun magic during the Festival of Fools/Topsy Turvy Day celebration (and make Rollo so mad in the process).

I like to imagine that Lilia, in his old age and wisdom, is the one that identifies the fire lotuses/crimson flowers right away and exposits to everyone else about what they are and what danger they pose to the world.

One of the first to volunteer himself as a sacrificial pawn to let the youngins charge ahead. After all, that's his duty as the oldest in the group 🎵 (but he actually ends up being one of the final ones to stay behind instead of the first; Lilia's just too strong of a card to play right away!)

Assuming that Lilia learns about Rollo's motives in the end, I feel like he'd give Rollo a verbal smackdown (similar to how he went after Leona's ass in book 2). Though Lilia understands the importance of family and the pain of losing loved ones, he'll never agree with, nor stand by, Rollo when he's taking such extreme measures to reconcile with his guilt. He’d probably lecture him at the masquerade too, trying to get Rollo to understand the positives of people opening up and coming together instead of living in isolation and narrow mindedness.

Like Trein, Lilia might keep himself open or make an effort to keep an eye on Rollo following the events. You never know when he might need advice or a mentor figure. What the not attempted was awful, but Lilia won’t allow hate to win out in the end. What he most desires is a world where everyone—even Rollo—can live in harmony.

Jack

Gives Rollo his utmost respect—after all, he’s an upperclassman and a representative from another school!! He tries to smile and listen attentively when Rollo speaks, though it’s hard for Jack to sense much of anything from him. Jack defers to Leona for his opinion, then marvels at his dorm leader’s wisdom.

He’s really impressed by Rollo’s discipline, from his detailed schedules to his exact meals every day. It’s not that different than following a strict training regimen!

Jack is the strong, silent type that just goes along with whatever the rest of his tour group wants to see and do.

His face normally makes people wary or feel intimidated. Since it’s Topsy Turvy Day they celebrate and laugh with him instead of shying away.

The goats try chewing on Jack’s tail, then they get skittish and scatter when he growls at them and tells them to cut it out.

When magic isn’t an option, leave it to Jack to be the raw physical powerhouse that buys the group time to ascend the bell tower!

Jack can't say that he understands Rollo's motivations, but as a big brother himself, he knows he'd be devastated to lose his siblings in such a way. Even so, he can't accept this--no, he swears to protect that which he loves. "Let's see whose will persists over the other's."

Trey

“It's nice to meet another Normal, Totally Sane, and Responsible person you,” Trey says, shaking Rollo’s hand. (Boy has no idea wtf is in store for them later.)

He unnerves Rollo by asking him how often he brushes his teeth and flosses after a single croissant. (Trey should compare his eyes to grapes too :3)

Very interested in sampling the local goods and pastries. He chats with the bakers about their techniques and specialties. Trey will try to recreate them for Heartslabyul since he can’t bring them back fresh for his dorm. Maybe he could try presenting Riddle with a grape tart instead of the usual strawberry?

He makes a dad joke about candying the flowers and eating them like sugared violets. No one laughs so he has to explain he wasn’t serious.

Like Lilia, Trey feels compelled to step up to the plate for his juniors when push comes to shove. “Riddle will kill me dead if I don’t make sure our dorm members are safe.” And with a solemn tip of his hat, Trey’s off to do battle with the deadly blooms.

Trey would feel bad for Rollo once everything comes to light. Of course it’s not easy for an older brother to lose their younger sibling—Trey’s an older brother too. There’s a guilt mixed with his sorrow, a part of him wondering if Rollo would still feel this way had someone been there to emotionally support him. It reminds Trey of his own complicated feelings when he didn’t deescalate Riddle’s rage. Who here was really responsible: Rollo, or the world he felt had failed him? That’s the question that Trey asks himself.

Jade

Jade immediately tries to flatter and befriend Rollo. (It pays to have friends in high places, no?) He makes it known that if Rollo ever needs any help, he’d be more than happy to assist. Rollo assures Jade that he doesn’t, he prefers to work alone—much to the eel’s disappointment. “Well, the offer is always on the table,” he says hopefully.

He'd be fascinated by all of the flora unique to the City of Flowers thanks to the Bell of Salvation's magic. Probably stockpiling stuff to bring back home and cultivate for personal projects such as his terrariums or various potions.

Jade stops by almost every food shop or stall to sample the local wares. He has a very healthy appetite (plus, Azul sent him on a mission to scope out the flavors of the city).

He’d love the glass mobiles—they remind him of the trinkets the Mermaid Princess of old would collect in her treasure trove.

Jade’s at first amused by the idea of flowers that fight back and actually pose a formidable threat to mages. Damn, it should have been him, not Rollo/j It’s so out of the ordinary—how could he not be entertained? It’s not every day that you face the end of the world as you know it.

He still helps in the battle to the bell tower, but he won’t automatically put himself in danger if others are willing to first. Jade has to preserve himself first and foremost! He’d probably try to manipulate NBC mob students to be his human shields before directly fighting the flowers.

Every so often he will drop an ironic comment like, “How dedicated Rollo-san must be to cultivate such beautiful and rare flowers.” (“Don’t act impressed by this!!” his classmates shout back.) Jade reassures them he’s taking this seriously, he’s just stopping to smell the roses along the way 😌

When the truth comes out, Jade claims that Rollo is a “poor, unfortunate soul” and offers nothing but pity for him. Internally, he’s marveling at the turn of events—surprised that the SSR trio would stoop to peeking in Rollo’s diary for information that’s something Jade would do himself www, chuckling at Rollo’s desperate struggle for salvation. It was well worth coming on this trip just to witness this all play out himself.

Cater

He’s his usual friendly, bubbly self around Rollo. The problem is that Rollo doesn’t reciprocate any of Cater’s attempts to socialize—he keeps things curt and professional.

Pulls Rollo into selfies and tells him to smile. Rollo doesn't.

Shocked when he learns Rollo prefers letters for texting or email. Rollo is just as appalled by Cater’s phone addiction.

Loooves the of and breads the city has to offer! The wide variety is aesthetically pleasing and keeps his camera sated. Plus, he doesn’t mind eating them instead of the sweets being offered.

Constantly snapping pictures to post on Magicam, cooing about how he loves "the vibes". (He also has documentation on his phone of the whole "wow, the city is infested with flowers" incident, but had to purge them when the group decides to let Rollo live with the guilt to himself.)

Cater would rely on the others to volunteer as shields first before he gets involves with the battles. He’d probably be one of the students to be forced into a situation where he has to fight the flowers (similar to how Jamil and Ruggie got cut off from the group and were forced to stay behind).

He could use his UM to make Cater copies that help to distract the flowers. I’m not sure how he could be impacted as the caster or if magic would still be absorbed if the flowers got to the clones and made them dissipate upon impact, but it’s worth a shot.

Despair is an emotion that Cater knows well but doesn’t show. Seeing that in Rollo strikes a nerve in him. His own loneliness and hopelessness is an echo of Cater’s. “Do you think this could have been avoided if someone had just been there for him?” Trey asks. (“I don’t know,” Cater replies, feeling as though he’s been punched in the gut. “It’s still totally not cool what he did though!”)

Vil

Cordial introductions and polite conversation are in order. Vil has no trouble navigating the city, nor dealing with Rollo. He’s had plenty of experience with stiff perfectionists in his industry (and it helps that Vil is one himself).

He compliments the NBC uniforms for being humble yet stylish. Rollo isn’t sure what to make of the comment (his face is blank) but he thanks Vil anyway.

Being a celebrity, Vil turns heads during his city tour. Rollo frowns in disapproval as fans swarm him, regarding Vil as a diva that promotes the sin of overconsumption. It doesn’t help his opinion that Vil often presents in an extravagant manner, full face of makeup, high heels, and all. It’s too much for the man to handle without his handkerchief.

Vil demonstrates an interest in the City of Flowers’ flora, just like Jade does. He’d love to preserve some for potions and his homemade cosmetics, but alas! They wouldn’t last the trip back. He’ll settle for other items: grape infused skincare and prank handkerchiefs—the latter, a bit juvenile, he confesses, but they’d make for excellent props for his Film Research Club.

When disaster strikes, Vil’s ready for action. His elegant, lithe form allows him to tuck and roll out of narrow scrapes with the flowers (all that work he does for doing his own stunts pays off here).

He can’t help but scoff at the irony of Rollo’s predicament. It’s a cruel twist of fate, but he cannot overlook Rollo’s actions. “You stand before a burning city and still call yourself its savior? Nothing could be so sad as a villain who has deluded himself into believing he is a hero. You’re rather full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Leona

Leona doesn’t care for kissing up to others, but he’ll do the bare minimum of greeting Rollo in his “royal persona” before going back to his usual rougher, less polished attitude. He has no one to impress, nor does he care enough to (even with Vil and Rollo chiding him).

He languidly strolls through the halls of NBC as if he owns the place. When his eyes pass over the mob students, they seem to straighten, standing at attention.

Leona doesn’t seem all that thrilled to see the gargoyles around. He gets this scowl on his face and mutters something about how they remind him of a certain lizard who won’t shut up about them. “Lizards, yes,” Rollo mysteriously agrees. “Such despicable, vile creatures.” Leona eyes him—sure to keep that in mind.

He susses out Rollo. Leona has a keen sense for ill intent and stays wary. He might not know what specifically drives Rollo, but he’ll at least as a sneaking suspicion like, "oh, [Rollo] is putting on airs/this isn't his 'true self'," etc.

His heart isn’t in the tour. Leona’s already familiar with the history and culture here thanks to his tutors. As Trein lectures, he’s yawning and thinking about being anywhere but here. Still, Leona doesn’t miss a beat when Trein surprises him with a verbal pop quiz. Sharp as a tack, he responds with a correct answer and a smirk.

He finds some Bibles ancient texts to read later. They came on a strong recommendation from Rollo, who says he and the other NBC students read and recite from it on Sunday mornings. “This had better be good,” Leona grumbles.

The local goats really REALLY like Leona for some reason. They gather at his knees, forming a weird fluffy fortress around him. He growls and tries to shoo them off (their horns are too Malleus-like for his liking), but they keep bleating and bothering him throughout the day. A goat comes to his rescue from the crimson flowers/fire lotuses, just like the legends of foretold—

His strong magic won't do him any good when the flowers reveal themselves. It's a good thing he's got physical strength and flight abilities too, he'll distract the flowers while the others go on ahead! (He'll insist the others will only "weigh him down" to save his pride.)

At the ball, Leona isn't one to mingle. He stands off to the sides, in the shade of the pillars, watching the others dance while he mulls over his power, Rollo's power, that burden of powerful magic they must bear, the scars left from their pasts. "Hmph, how useless," Leona thinks. Struggling against a fate set in stone... He knows that story all too well, and where that story will end: in ruin.

Floyd

Does and says what he wants when he wants, not caring how much Rollo is glaring at him. “Mm? You got a problem with me? Stop hiding behind your handkerchief and say it to my face then.” Floyd’s had too much experience with Jade and Azul’s two-facedness to be patient with Rollo’s bullshit.

Bored with all the historical info being dumped on him (his interest actually flits in and out at very inconvenient times). He sometimes glances away, changes the topic, or runs up to stalls and touches things. Basically, annoying Rollo the entire time.

Buys a bunch of random stuff, whatever catches his interest. Floyd loves the handkerchiefs and their prank potential (he'll startle Azul with them!), and the glass mobiles remind him of all the treasures he collects from shipwrecks back home.

He also gets a bunch of snacks to chomp on as he walks along and peeks at the vendors' wares. Floyd scarcely picks up after himself though, so that leaves Rollo to grumpily follow and pick up the wrappers.

I'm sure he'll come up with some nickname for Rollo (which will annoy him), but I'm not too familiar with marine life so you'll have to do the imagining for a suitable nickname for me lol. Maybe some kind of a jellyfish (since it would resemble the shape of his hat and has stingers despite how demure it looks).

Floyd is eager to fight the flowers once they sprout up. He's never tried punching plants before, but now is as good of a time to try as any! (He has to have a partner that keeps him under control or can compensate for his recklessness, or else he'll just indiscriminately fire off magic...)

When the conflict is all said and done, Floyd is totally chill with having a blast at the party. Rollo's trauma? Who cares? Now's the time to dance and have fun...! Floyd might even pull Rollo in for a dance during the ball, much to the latter's chagrin.

Ace

Riddle gave him a good, long lecture before Ace is allowed to go off to NBC. He gives a perky enough of a self-introduction, but can't maintain that squeaky clean student facade all the way. (Ace makes it clear among his peers that he's excited about this trip only because he can skip his regular classes and party at the masquerade.)

He's not all too thrilled about Rollo. A lot of his demeanor reminds Ace of Riddle (but if Riddle were much more emotionally repressed). "He's gotta unclench his ass and learn to have some fun for once!" Well, whatever, Ace thinks--all he'll do is just play the part of a good little boy, and as soon as Rollo looks the other way, Ace will let his mischief loose! (Like with Floyd, Rollo feels the need to keep Ace in line.)

When Trein starts giving the verbal pop quizzes, Ace zones out and pays zero attention.

He takes pictures of all the cool stuff he's experiencing to share later with the students not picked to go (ie to rub it in their faces). "Man, you guys are missing out~ Sucks to suck, I guess!"

Ace buys a souvenir but if you ask him who it's for, he'll get defensive and claim it's "definitely not for Deuce."

Ace likes to show off his magic to the townsfolk, though his level isn't that proficient yet. Making little fireworks is easy and gets eyes to light up though, so that's what he provides to liven things up! Rollo scolds him and tells him to "put it away", but Ace only rolls his eyes and hypes up the gathering crowd more.

When you need a verbal smack-down or a call-out, Ace is your guy. He's the first to point out Rollo's hypocrisy, and he does so loud and proud. "Rollo-senpai's a mage too, right? Releasing these flowers on the world means he'll have his magic taken too. Does he really hate himself this much...? Yeah, well, he's about to hate himself a whole lot more once he loses to us!"

When the situation seems dire, it's Ace kicking people into gear. He doesn't encourage them, but rather irritates them so much it grants them the strength to keep fighting just so they can live long enough to get their revenge on Ace.

He calls Rollo out to his face too--there, atop the bell tower, Ace confronts him, throwing accusation after accusation. His pointed words infuriate Rollo, who is still in denial about the true motivations behind his actions. "Admit it," Ace tells him, "you're doing this for yourself. Not for your brother, not for anyone else. It's just you projecting to stomp out your own guilt."

Being a first-year student, his magic is clumsy. Rollo easily overpowers him--but it's okay! Ace doesn't fight will the full force of his magic, instead relying on simple diversions with light, sound, and sleights of hand to distract Rollo.

It's Ace who suggests hiding the truth of Rollo's actions when they've defeated him. "How else is he gonna learn? He should reflect on his actions by himself, cuz 'sorry' alone isn't gonna cut it."

Ace wants that masquerade party to go on, to which Rollo reluctantly obliges. (According to Ace, "Losers don't get the right to say no to the winner's demands!") Thanks to him, the party's on, and he's going to enjoy every last second of it.

Ortho

... Couldn't Ortho just lifehack the situation and save everyone the struggle of trekking up the bell tower by just flying up there and sniping Rollo with a laser beam????? I guess let's just say that the fire lotuses/crimson lotuses drained the technomantic energy he runs on and thus limits his capabilities. Either that, or maybe the Masquerade Gear he changed into isn't equipped with strong combat functions.

Idia begs Ortho not to go and socialize because "it'll turn you into a normie", but Ortho's so eager to go to this symposium! It's a great chance to exchange knowledge with fellow mages. He promises his big bro he'll be extra careful and will record all the cool new sights so Idia can vicariously experience them through him.

Rollo's confused as to what Ortho is--he's certainly not living, is he? There's a part of Rollo that is disgusted and appalled at the inorganic nature of Ortho. He's an artificial being, an affront to nature, proof of humans playing god.

Even so, there is an odd atmosphere around Rollo, a hesitant curiosity. He's oftentimes spotted eyeing Ortho or extending a helpful hand to him in particular, though he winces at the child's touch, as if Ortho is diseased.

He nabs some of those intricately detailed wood carvings for his brother. Rollo asks him why those caught his attention, and when Ortho mentions Idia, Rollo's eyes darken with quiet understanding.

As promised, Ortho goes around filming everything. It's so different than looking up facts about the City of Flowers online! Ortho senses Rollo following at a distance--almost like a guardian, trying to make sure he stays out of trouble.

Rollo never thought he would experience guilt--but the moment the flowers come alive with fire, he feels it when he sees Ortho surrounded by the lotuses. The red spilling over his small form... it gives him traumatic flashbacks to the origin of his hatred for magic. But his will is strong, and Rollo pushes down the bile rising in his throat and continues with his plan.

With his magical reserves down, it's hard for Ortho to fly, or to move much at all. He's conserving his strength for the final battle as he drags himself up the stairs. When his peers ask if he wants to rest, he frantically denies it. "We need to hurry," Ortho insists. "We must save Twisted Wonderland, the city... and Rollo Flamme-san himself!!"

He sees a lot of Idia in Rollo, and it's perhaps this perception that drives Ortho so hard to stop Rollo before it's too late. Ortho has lived through grief, has seen how it can twist someone beyond recognition and set them on a path of destruction. Not again. Never again. He won't allow for it.

There's not much "juice" left in Ortho by the time they make it to the top of the bell tower. He knows he can't haphazardly fire a laser beam and call it a day, so he'll instead use fake tears (knowing that Rollo has a soft spot for him). Putting his acting chops to some use, Ortho pretends to sacrifice himself to get Rollo to lower his guard, allowing his two less magically inclined allies to get the jump on him.

After the battle, Ortho still can't help but empathize with Rollo. Unlike Idia, Rollo didn't have people there for him in his time of need. Ortho bashfully offers emotional support and invites him to hang out with him and Idia ("Maybe you and my nii-san can be friends? I can pass along his contact info to you!"). Rollo refuses--but that door is always open for him.

Kalim

I FIRMLY BELIEVE THAT KALIM WOULD BE THE HERO OF THIS STORY AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE

His extroversion is Rollo’s kryptonite. Kalim just bombards him with smiles and chatter, it bears Rollo’s patience thin quite rapidly. He basically has his handkerchief out at all times trying to covert his disgusted frown.

Kalim’s super into exploring the town!! He stops by all the stalls to stock up on tons of gifts for his dorm members back home. (Rollo is appalled by his extravagance.)

Big fan of the festivities too; he grabs Rollo and everyone else by the hand, encouraging them to join him in a big group dance. (Think of the town dancing scene from Tangled!!) It’s hard not to grin and clap along to the good vibes he brings!

When all hell breaks loose, Kalim’s still the one to beg everyone else to give Rollo a chance, to hear him out. (They all think he’s INSANE for asking this.)

He’s absolutely heartbroken to learn about the fate of Rollo’s younger brother. As an older brother himself and someone who has been on the receiving end of many assassination attempts, Kalim can’t imagine losing one of his own siblings to Death’s cold grip. Snot dribbling out of his nose, tears streaming his face, he’ll insist that Rollo’s about to make the biggest mistake of his life. They have to stop him.

When Ace, Ortho, and him arrive atop the bell tower, they’re all shocked that Kalim takes the initiative. Still sobbing, he calls out to Rollo, begging him to see reason, letting him know that he understands how he feels. Rollo, of course, doesn’t listen and only becomes increasingly angry.

A unique use of Kalim’s UM! 👀 Oasis Maker summons a ton of water at once and seems to have a large AOE. I wonder if this could confuse or temporarily delay the crimson flowers???? Because the water would technically be magic, right? Except it’s everywhere (and pretty evenly distributed). It could also wash away the magic traces of other mages, so the flowers wouldn’t know which direction to go. Oasis Maker is also a thematic opposite to Rollo’s fire, a perfect visual representation of fiery hate versus purifying, cooling love.

DBHLFADYUVAFP9A9 KALIM JUST. TACKLING ROLLO IN A TIGHT HUG AND ROLLO NOT KNOWING HOW TO REACT... IN THE RAIN... DO YOU SEE THE VISION.

Kalim’s also the one to suggest forgiveness and giving Rollo a second chance after his defeat. Ace is super against it and wants to blab about his misdeeds to the world, but Kalim manages to convince him to keep it under wraps through sheer charisma alone.

At the masquerade, Kalim approaches Rollo and offers to be his friend. Though Rollo briskly refuses, Kalim won’t give up! Kalim tells him that he has a friend back home (Jamil) that hates him, so Kalim’s gonna work hard every day to be someone worthy of his friendship. So… he’ll do the same for Rollo too!!

Stage in Playful Land:

Silver

Silver's probably one of those people who hears about Playful Land and comes along to help protect his liege and peers.

Somehow dense enough to think that Fellow and Gidel AREN'T suspicious (when they clearly are????). He just kind of tilts his head to one side and smiles, saying that these two seem really friendly.

At first he thinks the park is a little odd because there aren’t any wild animals—not even birds—there. But he soon forgets his worries and is caught up in the magic of the amusement park. Silver thinks of it like an extensive obstacle course for his training! He’s especially interested in tests of strength (he and Sebek got competitive about some of those games).

Thinks the park's mascots are cute. Picks up a souvenir that features them (maybe a keychain or plush toy) for Lilia and Malleus.

Not much for performing. Silver's facial expressions are stiff and he can come off as scary without meaning to--but on that stage, he comes alive and all his muscles move in perfect unison to execute a dance. How invigorating...!

Gets puppet’d for falling asleep in an area he shouldn't be loitering in? Or maybe he leaps in the way to protect someone else. He can’t help it!! Gallantly shouts at the others to run and leave him behind—what a noble sacrifice!

Tries to talk some sense into Fellow. The only one who gives him the benefit of the doubt and sees the good in him.

He commends Fellow for ultimately "making the right decision" and freeing everyone at the end. Tells them he hopes they'll meet again someday, and he's eager to hear about the success of his school.

Epel

Peak of his rebellious kid phase. Decides to sneak out just to stick it to his dorm leader (who nagged him very recently for something). Does not realize Rook followed him all the way to the pier until Rook greets him.

Completely fooled by Fellow's friendliness. Epel's used to this kind of attitude back home in Harveston. Because the community is so small, everyone knows everyone and they're pretty closely knit. He figures Fellow and Gidel are the same way!

Totally hype to take everything in! Makes everything a competition (and unfortunately gets smoked by his peers in most of them). Drowns his sorrows by eating tons of the apple (core) flavored foods offered in the park.

Really put off by the invite on the stage. He's reminded of when Vil voluntold him to perform for VDC/SDC. Tries to weasel out of it, but Fellow won't be having any of that! Epel's suddenly filled with a light heartedness and fond memories of his month-long training with friends. He lets his instincts take over and relives those times on the grand stage!

LHFLIDFPIEIFEQFQEFJA I THINK IT WOULD BE FUNNY YET SUPER STUPID IF EPEL GOT PUPPET'D FOR EXCESSIVE PROFANITY... and he continues to swear after he's been caught by the magic. This is a family friendly PG clean place, Epel 😤

How dumb would it be if Fellow told the caged boys stories about his travels while they waited for the others to be captured and as he's listening to these stories EPEL REALIZES FELLOW AND GIDEL ONCE STOLE CROPS TO EAT FROM HIS FAMILY... Boy starts hooting and hollering all over again.

Joins Deuce in stomping around the park and bashing it up. They're a real pair of delinquents... Maybe pops a squat and asks Deuce to take a "cool pic" of him posed by some rubble.

Tells Fellow that folks might be more willin' to help him and Gidel out if they were more honest with their intentions. Epel's not entirely sure if his words got through to him though...

Ruggie

He heard the word "free" and he was instantly in. Leona-san's been working his tail off lately, a hyena needs a break every once in a while! Who cares how shady the offer is? Free is FREE, isn't it? He'll worry about the details later.

Pals around with Fellow and Gidel, talking about their odd jobs and old bosses. They get along swimmingly (which gives everyone else Bad Vibes).

Ruggie thinks the park is like paradise! All you can eat food? And for free? No work, all play?? Cool! He runs around collecting freebies, stuffing his face, and prowling around at the game booths racking up prizes. He plans to resell all of this stuff at a mark-up once he gets out of the park!

He's not all that eager to get on the stage (if he's gonna sing and dance, you better compensate him for it!). But what's this? Why's he suddenly feel eager to join in? Well, he supposes it seems like fun, so he might as well jam out too.

"Whaaat?! I knew this was too good to be true!" he laments when shit goes down. Ruggie holds out pretty well, but he eventually turns into a puppet cuz his greed got the better of him. Most likely stole a baton or something off of a fallen puppet to use as a makeshift weapon (which violates a park rule about stealing from staff).

Can't even be mad when he's captured and stuck listening to Fellow ramble about money. I mean, yeah, Ruggie doesn't WANT to be a puppet, but he sympathizes with Fellow's poverty and lack of education afforded to him in a "No, no... Let him cook" way.

Listening to Fellow vent reminds Ruggie of how lucky he is that he managed to find a meal ticket and a way out of the slums. He wonders if he'd have ended up like Fellow, had he not met Leona.

Really eager to bust up the park. It's not every day he gets to do this kind of thing!

When it comes time to part ways, Ruggie has a few words for Fellow! He doesn't think that his idea of a school is half bad--but he also tells Fellow to pick a less sketchy employer for his next gig.

Rook

Pulls up to watch out for Epel. He knows just how furious Vil would be if he found out their freshman wasn't getting his beauty sleep, so Rook has come to implore him to return to his chambers!! But--oh la la, he can't help but be intrigued at the idea of exploring uncharted territory, and so Rook comes along to Playful Land.

He keeps a close eye on Fellow while playing the part of an oblivious bystander. Rook does all of the right things: shaking Fellow's hand, chattering about how excited he is. The more Fellow underestimates him, the more taken by surprise he'll be when Rook unleashes the full brunt of his strength against him.

Nickname for Fellow might be "Roi du Renards" (King of Foxes) or maybe "Roi du La Scène" (King of the Stage). For Gidel, maybe "Monsieur Muet" (mute) or some equivalent like Calme (quiet).

I feel like Rook would love seeing the variety of attractions the park has! The stroll along the seaside has him rattling off about the majesty of the ocean deep. He would kill at a lot of the games but is most interested in the thrill rides and the pictures that come out afterwards. Rook marvels at everyone's unique expressions! (He looks pretty normal and is smiling wide in the pics.)

One of the first to hop onto that stage when the offer comes up. Rook has a flair for the dramatics and would love for nothing more than to be one of the performers he adores watching.

Becomes a puppet because he's one of the first to attack the gate or the staff (before everyone figures out that breaking the park rules results in the puppet transformation). What can he say? The huntsman is a man of action! Dramatically begs everyone to flee like how the huntsman in Snow White does.

Weirdly okay with (even excited about???) the cage. Don't ask why.

Laments having to destroy the dear park where they had such fun and made so many happy memories. Gleefully delights in the destruction too though.

Touched by hearing Fellow's hopes and dreams. Rook takes his hands, and, with sparkling eyes, encourages him to continue following them, to never give up!! (He barely seems bothered by the fact that Fellow almost sold them off.)

Riddle

Absolutely refuses to go at first and only shows up at the docks because he had a sneaking suspicion that some students would try to sneak out and defy his orders anyway. Fellow then enchants Riddle with Life is Fun and convinces him to try it out since "you broke curfew and came all this way anyway!"

Points out that Fellow is "a highly suspicious individual".

Riddle didn't have much in way of a traditional childhood; the most entertainment he had was doing crossword puzzles in his home. He's hesitant and wary of all the park's attractions and has to be persuaded to try them out.

He keeps worrying about skipping school, so Fellow has to really stack his spell on Riddle. Eventually he, too, gets lost in the sauce and thinks about how he, Trey, and Chenya would have liked this park as kids... and how he wants to have that childhood he missed out on. When he's caught laughing on the merry-go-round, teacups, or bumper cars, he denies it.

Needs that extra push to hop onto the stage. Riddle's stiff with his movements--he basically only knows how to do formal dances--but he gets the hang of it with some help from Fellow. Soon his troubles melt away and he doesn't recall what he was so worried about before.

Since Riddle closely observes the rules, the only way I can see him getting puppet'd is either the park rules and the Queen of Hearts' rules clash somehow and he cannot decide which to adhere to, OR he breaks a park rule he wasn't aware of. Maybe a hidden rule???

When he's caught, he pops off on an angry rant about how they all deserve this and he KNEW this was a bad idea, what will his mother think, etc. (Fellow has to put ear plugs in.)

Vents his anger by firing off tons of magic and destroying a lot of the park. (Has to be reminded to stop and take breaks or he'll exhaust himself.)

Before parting ways with Fellow, Riddle clears his throat and gives him a thorough lecture on the importance of having a clear conscience. Tries to be nice by wishing him luck on his educational endeavors--after all, Riddle is also someone who values a good education. Fellow scoffs at his advice and tells Riddle he's gotta get more street smart if he wants to survive in "the real world". (That's his tsundere way of saying "thanks for that, kid.")

Deuce

The idiot child who decides to sneak out cuz Ace told him they should. (Ace got caught early and didn't end up meeting them at the rendezvous point.)

A little dense, but his heart is in the right place. Thinks Fellow is a respectable adult that can be trusted because "do you really think people just go around and lie like that?!"

Loses himself pretty quickly in the park. He loves the adrenaline rush of the thrill rides. Competes with Epel to see who can handle the most consecutively without throwing up. Also takes some pictures to send to his mom!

Feels sort of bad for leaving Ace behind so he picks up a Playful Land deck of playing cards as a gift for him.

Even stiffer and more robotic than Riddle when he's ushered on stage. Continues to fumble and trip over himself, but Fellow assures him it's okay as long as he has fun!

Picks a fight with a puppet (he goes delinquent mode) and breaks it. Profusely apologizes to Riddle as he's hauled off.

Gets super into smashing up the park. At one point, he forgoes using magic and starts destroying stuff with a bat or a metal bar he picked up somewhere.

Not very good with parting words, but he manages to wish Fellow and Gidel luck. He sees a lot of himself in them and doesn't want them to stray from their path. Trying to summon the same vibes of the understanding policeman that helped him turn his life around, Deuce lets them know that it's not too late--they can change for the better.

Jamil

Absolutely no way Jamil would have gone had Fellow not cast his UM on him. He entices Jamil with a break from work and the wonder of the stage, preying on his secret desire to stand out and to have his talents noticed. His, not Kalim's. Jamil cannot explain to himself why he goes out that night, his feet carry him there as if acting on their own.

Of course he thinks Fellow is conspicuous. There's no way he isn't. But Jamil doesn't think of him as much of a threat with how simpering and pathetic he acts. What a fool, Jamil thinks, so servile, like a dog. True hater energy. Still, he plays along since Fellow is his ticket into the park and it's best to keep in the manager's good graces.

Jamil's used to lavish trips and amusement parks thanks to having to babysit and follow Kalim around whenever his parents rent entire venues out for him. Nothing surprises him anymore--though he does enjoy the food and tries to pick apart their recipes as he tastes them.

He ends up having to babysit some other students (mainly the first years) anyway. Jamil groans... even at Playful Land, there's no rest for him!!

Lives it up on stage. Forget Kalim, forget Vil--HE'S taking command of the spotlight and he's loving every second of it. Jamil throws his heart into his singing, his dancing. The audience's eyes are all on him, and it all serves to feed his starved ego.

Gets thrown off his game by a bug and accidentally damages park property. Shrieks as the bug crawls all over him and he’s unable to fight back once he’s petrified. (Fellow points and laughs at him as Jamil seethes.) Vows to kill Fellow dead in revenge.

Like Ruggie, Jamil comes from a place of understanding where Fellow and Gidel are coming from… Stuck in some lower social status, forced to suck up and be humble. He just doesn’t sympathize because they’ve cause a significant inconvenience to him. All bets are off now.

Shit talks Fellow for being slimy and underhanded while conveniently ignoring the fact that he, too, is slimy and underhanded.

Surprisingly very into venting through destroying the park. That deranged look of his appears as the man relishes in setting tent ablaze and decimating the local bug population. You feel like he’s five minutes away from an evil villain cackle.

Holds a grudge against Fellow for the bug-induced trauma he went through. Shakes his hand and sees him off, but swears if they cross paths again that he will end him. Has vicious and vengeful thoughts about Fellow's downfall but says good-bye with a neutral expression.

Sebek

(Loudly) insists he is too mature and has better things to worry about than having fun at a park. (He’s secretly very interested in it and gets goaded to attending thanks to being taunted by his fellow freshmen + learning that Silver is trying to protect them; Sebek doesn’t want them to outdo him!)

Constantly gives Fellow lip. It’s a real struggle for Fellow to keep a smile and an upbeat attitude when dealing with Sebek’s brazenness.

Checks in frequently with Malleus to ensure his liege is making the most of his park experience! Every time Sebek wins a game, he looks to Malleus for approval. Whenever he finds an interesting attraction or ride, he’ll excitedly tell Malleus about it. Cherishes the pictures he takes with his prince, keeps them safe for his Malleus shrine when he gets home.

Fanboys for Malleus to go up on stage and “show those pathetic humans what-for!” Sebek is humbled to be able to stand on it beside his young master—he’ll do what he can to support him and make his skill truly shine!

His anger for their actions surpasses any sympathy he might feel for them. A good education is something his grandfather highly values—and he of course would be devastated if he were unable to read and enjoy all of his favorite books. But Sebek isn’t in the business of fraternizing with those who deceive and besmirch his master’s good name! Have at them…!

Probably violates some park noise regulation or simply gets too rough beating down puppets. He bellows that the others better do a damn good job of protecting the young master in his absence! Nearly weeps when Malleus thanks him for his loyalty and service.

Gives Fellow (and the other puppets) an EARFUL. Fellow tells Gidel to slap tape over Sebek’s mouth to get him to shut the hell up. This is only mildly effective.

Applauds Malleus as he rains destruction down upon Playful Land. Competes with Silver to see who can cause more collateral damage.

Gives Fellow and Gidel a second earful before the two depart on their own travels. Sebek says he hopes they’ve learned the error of their ways and will repent! He doesn't believe in them, but at least knows they're annoying enough that they'll keep surviving out there.

Azul

Under ordinary circumstances, Azul would absolutely not consider accepting a free ticket (what if Fellow demands repayment?!) or a deal that seems too good to be true. But something about this Fellow man is agreeable—perhaps scammers call out to scammers. He figures it would be fine to investigate what methods this illusory theme park is employing.

Azul and Fellow have an unsettling air about them as they converse. They're both all smiles, but it feels like there's a dark tension hanging around the two. Even Gidel seems nervous and fidgets as the two older men talk business and entertainment.

This dude has a little writing pad out and is actively taking notes on the things he sees around the park. He's thinking about how these could translate into his own financial ventures. ("Are you seriously working at Playful Land?! What a studious scholar!" Fellow simpers. "But there's no need, really! Put your mind at ease! Kick up your feet! Relax!") Needs more of Fellow's UM to keep pliant.

Also keeps track of the games, foods, attractions, and rides he partakes in. That way, he can whip out his sheet at any time and quote the value he owes back to the park. Azul doesn't want to give back more than he was given!

Humbly says that he couldn't possibly get on the stage--but oh, if you insist! (He was humble bragging, his voice is amazing.) Not much in the way of dancing though, he prefers to stand to preform, as he has insecurities about being clumsy thanks to his childhood experience being bullied for his bulky tentacles.

... Probably gets caught by Fellow and gets his ticket torn up because Azul's not athletic. Resents that Fellow calls him a stuck up and out of shape brat, maybe if he didn't sit on his ass all day he'd be better at practical things; fires back by going, "ACTUALLY, I am quite accomplished, I assure you! I don't just sit around on my laurels and let my minions rake the money rake in, I EARN every thaumark I'm worth!" (Azul's soooo offended OTL)

His mouth still works, even if the rest of his body doesn't. Azul tries all kinds of tactics to try and get Fellow to let him free. Flattery, bargaining, threats, asking if he can speak with his boss, etc.

Fellow seems to have a bone to pick with Azul on account of Azul being a successful guy from a successful family (Azul mentions his successful mom and dad willing to pay for his release). He never got any of that support when he was a kid, and Gidel never will, so Fellow's real bitter about it. He takes it out on Azul by kicking his cage and telling him to "shaddap" already.

Agonizes about being charged for any damages he incurs while tearing up Playful Land. Azul comes up with a contract on the spot and demands that Fellow sign it to free him of any liabilities before he joins in on destroying the park.

Azul begrudgingly wishes Fellow luck in his own endeavors--oh, and if he's ever in need of a small loan of a million thaumarks (with a frightening amount of interest), please feel free to reach out to him! He says it with a smile, but his intentions are far more malevolent.

Fellow laughs it off and says he and Gidel can do fine without a snot-nosed punk's help. As soon as he's out of sight, Azul turns to his classmates and huffs. "Well, I NEVER! Such a rude man could never hope to make it in the world."

Idia

Bro didn't want to go in the first place, he HATES crowded places full of outgoing people. Ortho guilt trips him into it, saying that "Nii-san needs to touch grass!!" Ortho even assures him that he'll come along too. So Idia shows up, but there's no Ortho there... turns out it was a trap to force him to socialize without his little brother's support!

He tries to keep his distance from the rest of the group and sneak back to Ignihyde, but Fellow unfortunately strolls right up to him, wraps a hand on his shoulder, and starts smooth talking. Idia freezes up and wonders if this is what shoujo protags feel like when sleazy guys come up to them on the street and try soliciting them for dates before the male lead (Silver lmao) steps in to help them out.

He feels a little more comfortable around Fellow when he's paired with Gidel. Something about their dynamic reminds Idia of himself and Ortho. At some point, Fellow mentions that though they're not technically related, he thinks of Gidel like his dear family. Idia finds himself nodding along to that sentiment, even smiling a little at that. "... Yeah. Family's family."

Drifts around like a ghost, not wanting to get involved in anything. The others boys have to drag him onto the rides (Idia leaves them practically foaming at the mouth and on the brink of death).

Loves the arcade area. He gets the chance to show off his mad gamer skills and clears the shelves of all their prizes. Excited to have earned some cool merch and to be able to have something to share with Ortho when he gets back.

WANTS TO PERISH ON THE SPOT when he's invited up on stage. Fellow has to drag him there kicking and screaming. zilfbdifbabia Funnily enough, I feel like Idia's panic and gloominess would override Fellow's UM but he gets peer pressured into performing anyway... so he hangs out in the corner like a banshee and half-heartedly mumbles the song lyrics and kicks at the ground to "dance".

When things start taking a turn for the worse, Idia tries to cope with his anxiety by relating their situation to some of the classic horror films he has seen. Maybe he uses some of that knowledge to advise their next moves? “N-Normally I wouldn’t want to stick with you normies, but splitting up’s always the wrong move in the horror movies…”, “Wh-What’s next?! Is Fellow-shi going to chase us down with a chainsaw?!”, etc.

His stupid blue fiery hair always gives them away in the dark 😭 The boys force Idia to hood up to avoid being a beacon.

Probably also gets caught because he’s out of shape and gets his ticket torn up. Rages when he turns into a puppet, saying that no one EVER reads the terms of service, so why punish them for it?! (Azul starts to argue with Idia on this.)

Proceeds to whine about all the games, manga, and anime he won’t be able to finish. Gidel seems curious about what those are, but Fellow keeps him away from Idia.

Fellow hates to admit it, but he feels a little sorry for Idia when he mentions not being able to ever see his little brother again. He pulls up a crate and sits on it, listening to Idia talk about this Ortho kid.

Ironically, it’s Idia that starts to make him reconsider his own conscience—but ultimately, the need for money has Fellow turning away and steeling his heart. He has to look out for number 1, he has to do this for his own little brother.

Is weirdly gleeful about the park’s destruction. Happily firing laser beams off with his little skull device. (It’s like one of his shooter games!) Wishes Ortho was here to participate.

Declares that this is the last straw for him once the ordeal is over. Idia claims he is NEVER stepping foot outside of his room again, terrible things always happen when he does!!

Fellow laughs at him and tells Idia to take life in stride. Closing those doors to opportunity might cost him in the long run! Idia shoots him a glare. “Y-You’re the last person I wanna hear that from!!”

Malleus

So pumped that he actually got invited to go somewhere. Doesn't care how sketchy it is (he can easily decimate any troubles), he's so hype about just the idea of being included in a gathering.

A little oblivious to Fellow’s shadiness. He greets the man cordially and thanks him again for the invite with all the dignity and grace of a royal. Asks many questions of Fellow as well; Malleus wants to know more about the history and the magical construction of the park!

He experiences many of his firsts at Playful Land but has a hard time wrapping his mind around some concepts. Why would you ride a ferris wheel when he can fly up and see the entire park that way? Do humans really get a thrill from getting splashed with water as they descend on roller coasters...? Here, he can summon a pillar of water and drench you right now. Oh, the game is to knock the pyramid of bottles over? He can easily do it with a blast of magic.

Apples are a common food and flavor in the park? Malleus thinks they taste better roasted. Let him demonstrate, he'll use his fire breath to--

For some reason, Malleus is really into the mascot characters of the park. He doesn't think they're cute or anything "normal" like that; he just has this weird respect for them as the "guardians" of Playful Land. They're basically gargoyles in his mind. Gets super invested in this game of pointing out all the "hidden foxes" he spots.

Malleus has attended balls and other formal gatherings before, but he has never been in a show. Everything there shines, and then there's him... a dark, foreboding presence sucking up all the light on the stage. Though he moves with elegance and joins in on the singing, he strikes terror and sends shivers down the audience members' spines. (Fellow quickly ushers him off.)

Explodes when he learns he has been tricked. (Let's uh... assume they're in a wide-open area when his lightning strikes out of anger, because otherwise he'd for sure take down some attractions and would instantly get puppet'd; let's also assume the park's magic is somehow strong enough to resist his own magic.) Malleus is determined to storm right up to Fellow and give him a piece of his mind!!

After Idia and Azul are captured, it's down to only him and the sly fox that started this all--and it's not even a competition. Fellow poses no threat, Malleus takes him down without even batting an eye. I can see Fellow pretending to beg for mercy and grovel, hoping to trick Malleus into lowering his guard so he can spring a last-ditch trap on him, but it doesn't work since Malleus is so OP.

I like to imagine there's a scene where Malleus has Fellow in tears when he realizes the true disparity between this FAIRY PRINCE and him, the haves and the have-nots. And Malleus is about to blast him, but holds off after seeing Fellow being a mess Not out of actual sympathy, but out of a sense of noblesse oblige (a duty that the elite have to help the less fortunate). Fellow's probably really bitter about it too, seeing it as Malleus looking down on him and pitying him.

"Perhaps life has chosen to be unkind to you. However, that does not preclude me from pardoning you." (Sebek shouts something about how Fellow should be grateful for his liege's magnanimity!) "Rise, Honest. You will live to see another day--but be certain that you make that day an honorable one for yourself and your ward, lest you incur the full extent of my wrath."

In a climactic moment, Malleus flies high above Playful Land and lets loose a flurry of magical explosions. It's a magical way to close out the closing of the park. Rides collapsing into rubble, fireworks in the sky. A performance worthy of a standing ovation (if you ignore his classmates screaming as they bolt for the exit before the falling buildings land on them).

While his classmates are clamoring to get back to NRC, Malleus finds himself glancing back at Fellow and Gidel, who are packing it up. He approaches them (Fellow jolts back) and politely wishes them safe travels--a small blessing. "And may all of your dreams come true," Malleus adds (ominously).

It might be interesting to see Malleus question the resource disparity in his own country at the end?? Fellow wasn't able to study and be a mage because he was born in the wrong social standing, so he had to resort to unsavory action to scrape by. This would sort of parallel what we eventually see in book 7 (ie the human invaders taking resources from the fae) and could lend him a unique perspective + give him a lot of things to consider for when he will eventually ascend to his throne. What about his citizens with little or no magic? The destitute? How will he, as king, ensure that his people have what they need to be happy and fulfilled, so that no one ends up like Fellow?

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writers-potion · 7 months ago

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Hiiii

I don't know how to make the two love interest meet. I don't know if you understand without it actually being awkward or flat

Meet-Cute Ideas

Before I dive into meet-cute examples, let's look at some general tips for meet-cutes:

Four Different Kinds of Meet-Cutes

Pull/Pull Meet-Cutes where the two characters are instantly drawn toward one another.

Push/Push Meet-Cutes where they are opposites that push away from each other at first.

Push/Pull Meet-Cutes where one character falls for someone with no reciprocal interest (at first).

Neutral/Nervous Meet-Cutes where neutrality and nervousness create a cute scenario for characters destined to fall in love.

How to Avoid Cliche Meet-Cutes!

Subvert audience expectations by making them believe a cliche meet-cute is coming, and then adding a creative twist to make yours stand apart.

Place meet-cutes in unique locations.

Put characters in different scenarios and situations.

Meet Cute Ideas

A is in the waiting room of a hospital while their grandmother goes through a routine procedure. B walks in and sits across from A, head in hands, obviously distraught — “I lost the baby,” B whispers.

You accidentally sprayed them with yogurt when you opened the lid the wrong way.

Studying at the same table in the library, you see they are pulling the same study resources as you.

They mistook your bowling ball for theirs in the shared ball return.

They caught you when you slipped on ice and nearly fell over.

Accidentally stepping on their heel in a crowded room.

You both do the side-to-side dance when you try to pass them in the grocery store aisle.

Humming a song and having them begin to hum with you without thinking.

Tripping while getting into your seat in the theater and spilling your popcorn on them.

You matched with them in an online chat roulette room.

Both of you wore the same ugly Christmas sweater to a party.

A likes to visit the local humane society to say hello to the animals. On this particularly normal day, something especially abnormal happens — one of the dogs speaks. “Help me get out of here, will ya?”

A finds a book of magic in their grandparents attic. A takes it to a Wiccan shop and hesitantly asks B, the shopkeeper, to take a look at it. B takes one look at it and in hushed tones asks, “Where did you get this?”

They cover the small amount of change you are short on for a purchase.

You both go to the counter, having the same type of coffee called for pick-up.

A is walking down the street and notices B, who is staring at a large graffiti mural, tears streaming silently down their face. The mural reads, “you are alive.”

They pull you out of the way from the busy bike path.

They see your ice cream drop to the ground and buy you a new one.

You see your favorite book on their desk during class and ask them about it afterwards.

You walk out of a dressing room asking if the outfit suits you, but it's not your friend waiting outside the room like you thought.

Almost spilling a drink because you met their eyes and got distracted thinking how cute they are.

Getting paired up in a line dance.

Happening to sit next to each other on a park bench, reading the same book.

Being paired up at a beginners ballroom dancing class.

Sharing an umbrella at a bus stop as it snows.

They get your attention and return your phone that fell out of your pocket.

You help catch their dog when the leash slips from their hand.

They ask you to pretend to be their date at a bar to prevent an ex from talking to them.

You help pull a loose thread off the back of their shirt.

Meeting their gaze after throwing a coin in a wishing fountain.

Sitting next to each other at a very boring meeting and bonding over your shared lack of attention.

You wear matching masks at a masquerade party.

Holding the elevator for them and getting off on the same floor.

Bumping into each other while trying to pass through a doorway.

They jump into your car breathless and tell you to keep driving.

You throw a snowball at a friend but miss and hit them instead.

The two of you wear costumes from the same fandom at a costume party.

You help a lost child find their parent together.

Walking into the incorrect bathroom and meeting eyes with them before quickly realizing the mistake.

You help catch their hat as it flies away in the wind.

The person sitting next to you on the train is wearing clothes that match your lucky colors from your fortune that morning in the paper.

They knock on your apartment door instead of your neighbor's.

You both reach for the last umbrella in the store on a rainy day.

You fix your hair in the reflection of a window to see them smiling at you through it.

You get scared by them in a corn maze and lash out and hit them, quickly followed by apologizes.

A spots B writhing on the ground in pain and rushes over to help them — but it turns out that B was actually just filming for a prank video. A gets so mad and upset that B is forced to calm them down as a crowd is beginning to form around them.

Texting the incorrect number but continuing the conversation.

A stops at the pub near their house to pick up some food on the way home (they make the best fries in the neighbourhood) when A receives a phone call – and some terrible news. A starts crying and B, the bartender, asks A what’s wrong. As A opens up to them, B gives A a drink on the house, and helps talk them through it.

You both reach for the final donut in the case at a bakery.

Getting paired up on an amusement park that requires even numbered riders.

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tls12lessthan3 · 4 days ago

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Forgive me for unloading in your asks, but your post on KDJ's suicidality finally gave me the words for something I've been thinking about for years.

The cruelest trick KDJ plays on the audience with his unreliable narration is to pretend his suicidal ideation is the same goal-driven fantastical kind as YJH. It starts from the very beginning of the story -- he lets YJH throw him off the bridge because his knowledge of the story will let him survive, and give him an advantage for the next scenario.

Even as his knowledge gets thinner and thinner, his plans becoming more and more tenuous, the illusion remains. It's all for the company, it's all to get through to the next scenario. Of course it's not permanent. Of course there's a plan, there's always a plan.

I admit, the first time I read ORV I got completely fooled, and it meant that I really had trouble empathizing with KDJs companions being so hurt by his self-sacrificing nature -- just like KDJ does. This meant that KDJ meeting the oldest dream was absolutely devastating, because it's the moment that the illusion finally, truly crumbles. There's no more tricks, no way out, no pretense of a plan. He really thinks he has to die. And in that moment, I was horrified right along with his companions.

Idk just a really neat way ORV uses its unreliable narration to put the reader in KDJ's headspace.

nothing to be forgiven! i love getting asks and i love this one in particular. i absolutely agree that kim dokja's suicidality masquerades as something much closer to yoo joonghyuk's, pretending to be simply the most practical option because after all, he can come back. its a justification that in itself betrays a complete lack of care for oneself that kim dokja (and subsequently the reader) glosses over. its true that his plans save the most lives, its true that they are often most practical, a truth which hides exactly why sacrifice is always his first instinct and makes his companions anger difficult to understand - it works after all, doesn't it? aren't they being a little unreasonable, considering that?

it is such an interesting part of his unreliable narration because when we first meet him he already gives us the clues to see his suicidal ideation for what it is - he sees himself as someone with no worth and no prospects who subsists solely off of reading a shitty webnovel, basically telling the reader to our face that he doesn't care for his life. but he acts as if that self-hatred and the resulting suicidal ideation is completely unrelated to his self sacrifice. its just always the best option, and we as readers believe him! its not until his justifications become thinner and thinner and his plans become more and more reckless that a direct cause and effect becomes apparent, and yet the narration still often brushes it off.

you're right that part of why the oldest dream is such a shock because its when the justification is at its strongest and weakest. if kim dokja/oldest dream dies here, everyones struggle will be over, its what theyve all been working for, it seems like the most reasonable plan. to make everyone continue to suffer just for him - how could that be any sort of fair? how is that an option? but he barely bothers to put up that facade, because his self-hatred is so strong it makes his justifications pale in comparison. he cant pretend this is anything but an attempt to finally kill himself permanently when his loathing for oldest dream is practically dripping off the page. especially not when, like you said, theres no resurrection plan. just a cold desire to die.

its just another way orv pulls the wool over its reader's eyes. kim dokja's self-hatred colours the narration until any attempt to save himself seems.....irrational. not worth it. really, this is the only way. which is also why seeing the companions fight for him when the pov switches in the last few chapters hits so hard! because you see from a perspective where that was never true at all........

#i got. rambly #VERY FUN ASK!!! hope i answered it well #lots to think about here #ask time

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muddyorbsblr · 10 months ago

Text

would've could've should've pt2

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: You and Loki attend an alumni event at your college, hiding in plain sight while on a mission to retrieve information about HYDRA experiments within campus; you cross paths with someone from your past.

Word Count: 6.5k [pace yourself; keep water on standby]

Warnings (spoilers ahead but also you need these): 18+ | heavy themes (retraumatizing; emotional trauma from past relationship; past relationship with severe power imbalance; past relationship involving severely predatory behavior; implied dubcon mentioned in memories); mentions of human experimentation involving drug-induced mental and emotional subjugation; angst; Tony's a-hole tendencies; language [let me know if I missed anything and I'll change it immediately]

Things to be aware of: established relationship; keep the song this is titled after in mind especially "I damn sure never would've danced with the devil at 19"

There'd been a tension between you and Loki ever since that movie night gone wrong where his brother let slip that he was frustrated in his current relationship. At least where physical contact was concerned, or lack thereof. Thor even went so far as to insinuate that Loki doubted his girlfriend even loved him if she wasn't even willing to share her body with him.

The unease was driving the god to the brink of madness, every part of him shaking with the urge to pull you into a room and beg you to tell him what he could do to make things better. He would do just about anything for you, and it pained him to realize that you didn't actually know that.

Perhaps with this new mission that you two were being sent off to, you two could have some much needed time together away from all the noise. And especially away from his brother that thought he knew what was best for him. Thor didn't know a damned thing.

You were best for him. He just needed to be leagues better in showing you that so you could know it as well as he did.

And even though the destination wasn't all that romantic, the god still had a good few tricks up his sleeve that could help him make do with what he had.

"Y/N, quick question about lodging arrangements for your mission with Laufeyson." Loki immediately tuned out all of the other noise around him to listen in on your conversation with the worker from Operations & Logistics. One of the perks he'd found from his Jotun heritage: the enhanced senses that allowed him to eavesdrop even from across the rather spacious room.

"I don't care about the view, Kristy, just stick us wherever," you spoke around the cookie you were munching on.

"Oh, no it's not about the view. You two are booked for a suite, so you'll have a fantastic view of the Hills regardless. Maybe even the Hollywood sign!" She bounded in her spot slightly, clearly excited as she imagined what you'd be seeing from the suite's balcony.

Meanwhile the raven-haired god was already losing himself in the image of sharing some champagne with you, your features illuminated by the city lights. Perhaps stealing multiple kisses through the night.

"I was wondering about the uhh…bedroom arrangements? You want one bedroom or two?"

He was about to speak up, nearly shouting that you only needed a single room with a single bed before you answered, not a single part of you betraying your image of calm consideration. "Two." A pit formed in his stomach as your eyes didn't even dart to steal a glance at him.

"You sure about that, jellybean?" Stark butted in, looking up from his seat at a nearby table with his daughter. "You're supposed to be masquerading as a couple all happy in love and shit."

"Uh huh, sure. In public."

"Alright then. Scenario." He leaned forward on his seat, pointing his writing instrument at you. "Say someone sees you while you're out on the streets, takes an interest in getting photographs of you. You're in Los Angeles, paparazzi's a dime a dozen and some of them know how much pictures of Avengers sell, especially if they look like they're dating. Say our hypothetical pap friend has a telephoto lens that can see into your suite and sees you going into separate rooms. What then?"

You didn't even take a moment to think it over. Instead shrugging and answering him in a perfectly laid back tone, "Couples fight. Paint a smile for the cameras and sleep in separate beds. That's Hollywood, baby."

Loki's pulse thundered in his ears, almost dulling out the way that Stark turned back to his daughter and told her, "You do not ever go to your Auntie Y/N for relationship advice, are we clear?" The little girl only answered her father with a little salute.

Was that what was happening? The tension that ran thick between you two whenever you were so much as in the same breathing space together? Were you fighting?

"Two rooms it is then," the Logistics worker spoke again, tapping away at her tablet before giving both you and Stark a thumbs up, confirming that the reservation had been made.

"Hey, Reindeer Games, jellybean, word of advice? You know, from a friend or colleague or whatever you wanna call me?"

"You're my friend, Stark, I'm Morgan's godmother for fuck's sake," you shot back at the same time that Loki said, "Well an annoyance would be the term I'd use, but go ahead."

"Try to have fun? You're going to your college reunion, Y/N. I'm sure you have some familiar faces you wanna say hi to, reminisce about your random acts of debauchery and dance with like you're 19 again at the club with your fake IDs trying to score some alcohol from the bartender that pretends those cards are legit?" He then turned his focus to Loki. "And you. Try to get some. Unless of course you're still miserably attached to Little Miss Prim and Prissy with a fifty foot pole because she doesn't wanna do the naked tango with you."

"What's a tango?" the smaller Stark queried, looking up from her workbook.

"It's a dance, baby," you answered her, smirking into your drink before you took a sip.

"Naked dancing, Auntie Y/N? I'm confused." The Logistics worker decided to take her leave at this moment, scurrying out of the room with a little nod toward everyone present.

"I know you are, baby." You walked over to her, ruffling her hair before placing a kiss on the top of the little girl's head. "Ask your parents about naked tangos. I'm not gonna be the one to talk to you about the birds and the bees."

"Birds and bees can dance with each other? But isn't a bee too small for a bird?"

"All excellent questions, sweetie." You gave Stark a mischievous look that would have done the god proud had it not been for the knots still sitting heavy in his stomach. "Good luck, Tony. And for the record? I wasn't a party girl in college. Some of us actually had to bury our noses in books and study our way to our degree. We can't all be genius billionaire playboy philanthropists."

"Ah, come on, jellybean, there had to be something you did for fun in college." The way you froze for a fraction of a second didn't go unnoticed by the god, but it seemed to slip past Stark and his daughter all too easily. "Just remember that this shouldn't just be a mission for you, you're gonna be among your old friends. Take a second to...I don't know, mingle. Catch up."

"Stark? The only reason I even agreed to go to the reunion is because of the mission. Our intel found evidence suggesting that HYDRA took over and repurposed a building in my old college and they might be housing volatile maybe even catastrophic kinds of compounds in there, and we're just going for a recon mission. In and out. The only purpose I'd have for mingling is wanting to see who in campus might be involved in the shady shit."

"Fine, whatever floats your boat, Y/L/N. At least go say hi to your old professors, though. Might make their entire year being able to brag to their incoming classes that they once mentored an Avenger back in the day."

For some reason those words from Stark had you freezing up even more, trying to mask it by nodding a little too vigorously before taking a swift leave to the kitchen area, setting your mug down. Loki took that as his opportunity to perhaps have a moment with you before you went off to your apartment for the night. He made his way to you, speaking just barely above a whisper. "Darling, I'm so sorry you had to hear that barb from Stark." His arms ached to simply reach over and pull you into an embrace, the only thing stopping him being the reminder that you both had agreed to keep your current entanglement with one another more private.

But he wanted more than anything to ignore that reminder completely. Especially after looking upon your features and seeing a blank stare of what he horrifyingly recognized as defeat in your eyes.

"It's fine, Mischief," you answered him, your voice monotonous and almost completely devoid of emotion. "He doesn't know he was talking about me. Serves me right anyway. Prim and prissy might as well be tattooed on my forehead."

The god's skin bristled with irritation hearing you repeat the billionaire's words as if you were already accepting of the new unwelcome moniker. "I should have a word with him. Tell him his remarks have the most undesired effect on you. He'll stop, I'm sure of it. Once he knows that it's you. Even be remorseful."

"You tell him and everyone will know," you deadpanned, your face remaining stoic as ever. "He'll tell everyone before the night's over and suddenly what's private isn't so private anymore. Is that what you want?"

He stood silent, staring at you with your blank expression that you'd given him since that disastrous night where Thor made the idiotic remarks that so efficiently drove a wedge between you two. A wedge he somehow didn't know how to dislodge. "I…I simply want for us to be okay."

His heart splintered seeing you give him something between a grimace and a small smile, shrugging before answering in the same flat tone, "Then we're okay."

Then why does it feel as if you're pushing me farther and farther away with every passing day? he wanted to ask you, the words weighing heavy on his tongue as he watched you walk away, back to your apartment. Why does it feel like I've lost you?

The level of guardedness you displayed ever since you stepped foot on your old campus put Loki on high alert. You always exhibited a calculated caution in missions, but this seemed beyond that. There was nothing in your stance that implied your readiness to fight and defend yourself, but rather there was a fear.

A readiness to run. To disappear.

Your shivering in his hold did nothing to convince him of any other explanation. Being here elicited a fear in you that he couldn't comprehend. As if there were ghosts from your past lurking in the shadowy corners of the dimly lit gymnasium.

"Oh my gosh, is that…Y/N?" a high-pitched voice shrieked over the thumping stereo, coming from a rather bubbly looking woman that was bounding toward you, arms outstretched with a wide beaming grin on her face. "I haven't seen you since graduation! Our old profs just can't stop talking about you and how proud they are that they taught an Avenger, they're hoping they get to see you tonight. Get a picture or two." She then turned her attention to Loki, jaw on the floor when he saw his arm gently wrapped around you. "Are you two--?!"

"Ohh! Uhm…no." You worked your way out of Loki's hold to give the woman a friendly embrace before turning back to face him. "Loki, this is Bianca, we shared a good number of classes together. Bianca, this is Loki, my uhh--" Your voice caught in your throat trying to find a word to describe the god.

I'm yours, little mortal. Plain and simple, he wanted to tell you, regardless of present company.

"We work together," you told her, the words worsening the sinking feeling that he had in his stomach. "Work's been a little slow lately so Stark assigned me to show him around and expose him to what a former college girl's life is like."

"College girl? You?" The woman burst into a fit of giggles. "Y/N you were many things when we roamed these halls, but you were more a mini professor than anything. I never once even saw you step foot at a frat party or a club…you were always just hanging out with--"

"You know what, you're absolutely right," you cut her off, your voice louder than normal even with the thumping music surrounding you all. "Loki, maybe you'd be better suited to learn from my old friends. Go off with Bianca, she and the other girls can't possibly steer you wrong."

The god's blood ran cold as your words hit him. He felt as if you were steering him away from you for more than just this moment. As if your sentiment held a poorly veiled secondary sentiment, pushing him away from you so that he could pursue someone else with your blessing.

He did his best to put on a casual smile, to politely decline your offering of your old campus friend. "I accompanied you to learn from you, little mortal," he spoke over the music, reaching for your hand and lacing his fingers between yours. "I wish to stay with you. You cannot rid yourself of me that easily."

"I'm not ridding myself of you, Mischief," you shot back, your friend's eyes darting rapidly between the two of you before slowly stepping away. "It's more of the other way around. We both know that I'm holding you back, so here's your exit--"

"I don't want an exit, Y/N, I want you," he insisted through gritted teeth, fighting every urge to lead you both into a more secluded corner so you could talk this out without having to shout just so you could hear each other. "I wish to be with you, regardless of--"

"Well as I live and breathe, that's a face I didn't think I'd see again." Your eyes widened hearing the voice of the man that approached you next, your pulse beating so furiously that Loki could see it pumping against your neck.

This was definitely not one of your former classmates. The man was middle-aged, his hair obviously colored to mask the silver that was peeking through at the roots as well as his eyebrows. He did what he could to dress himself in line with what was considered stylish but so clearly missed the mark. And emphasizing his age further was the clearly decades younger woman he had as his companion, looking as if she belonged in his classroom rather than in his bedroom.

"Prof--Professor Richardson," you stammered, the breathy almost fearful tone in your voice immediately putting the god on high alert. "Bianca m-mentioned you and the other guys were here tonight."

"Oh, come on Y/N it's been years since you had yourself folded into those awkward armchairs, there's no need to be so formal with me. Please, call me Simon. In fact, I should probably be a touch more formal with you, considering that one of my favorite students is now my favorite Avenger." His eyes quickly darted to the god's. "No offense, dude. You're pretty great, too. There's just something about those spandex suits, you know?"

You gripped Loki's hand tighter for a fraction of a second as the man's eyes roamed your form unabashedly, the spiteful jealousy from his companion written all over her face.

He didn't wait for you to introduce him again as someone you simply 'worked with', choosing to speak up to hopefully soothe your very obvious unease. "I must agree with you there, Y/N quite a remarkable agent." He extended his hand out toward your professor. "I'm Loki. Y/N's boyfriend."

Your breath caught in your throat in a strangled sound at the word, looking up at the god with wide eyes before trying to compose yourself again. Before you could speak, however, Simon did.

"Well if she's as remarkable a girlfriend as she was a student, then you have yourself a real catch right here. You're quite the lucky man--god, I mean." The woman next to him cleared her throat conspicuously loudly, the tail end of it sounding more like a muffled shriek, calling Simon's attention to her. He eyed her with a bit of irritation before turning back to you. "Oh where are my manners? This is Deena. I'm her thesis advisor for her graduating year."

"Oh…that's…" You were quite clearly struggling to form words. You addressed the student instead, your eyes quickly darting to the way she gripped her professor's arm so tightly before looking back at her. "Wow. You're quite the lucky young lady. Professor Richardson mentioned back then that he rarely took on the role of advisor. I'm sure your proposal was nothing short of remarkable."

The student offered you a tight smile in response, opening her mouth to speak before your former professor perked up again. "In all these years, nobody still quite measures up to you, though, Miss Y/L/N. Oh, sorry. Agent Y/L/N." He shifted his gaze to address the god once more. "It was a bleak day when I had to give her her final grade for her final course with me."

He reached his hand out toward you which you took with a slight tremor in your fingers. Loki way too easily heard the gasp that slipped out of you when Simon took your hand in both of his, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of your fingers.

"I hope to see you around some more while you're in town, Y/N." The way he rolled the syllables of your name, like he was savoring a taste on his tongue, didn't sight right with the Asgardian. He was the only one that could speak your name like that. At least…he hoped he still could.

"Yeah…s-sure," you mumbled, jerking your hand out of the professor's hand, subtly wiping the back of it on your skirt when you smoothed your hands over your dress. "En--Enjoy the rest of your night, Simon. Deena." You nodded your head at both of them before walking away abruptly, inadvertently towing Loki behind you.

As you put more distance between you and your former professor, the god heard a muffled sentiment from Simon to his companion. "Of course not, sweet thing, you know you're the only one for me."

There weren't many things that could catch the god off guard, but hearing those words from your former professor sent a slight chill down his spine, the confirmation of his initial suspicions written in black and white. Making him wonder now what your true history with the man that put both of you at a state of unease was.

"Darling, are you alright?" He held you closer to him as the crowd became denser, too many people surrounding you and pushing against you as you moved. "You're cold."

"I'm fine." He could barely hear you over the speakers. "I just need some air, I can barely hear myself think in here."

He didn't need to be told twice; this type of environment wasn't agreeable with him, either. Once you'd both stepped through the doors of the gymnasium and the air no longer tasted of alcohol and sweat, he pulled you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"What was that for?" you breathed out, the dazed tone of your voice making him hold you just a touch tighter.

He hadn't the full picture of what had your fight or flight kicking in to an extent he'd never seen on you before, but he held faith that when you were ready, you would tell him. For now, he would do what he could to at least ease your discomfort.

"Can I not simply wish to hold you, my love?"

You briefly wrapped your arms around him, returning his embrace before you took a step away from him, smoothing your hands over your dress once more. "Come on. I wanna find the lab and be done with this mission. Get back to New York sooner rather than later and all that."

His heart splintered even worse in his chest, his suspicion that your stepping away from him was more than simply physical now. That the last fortnight that he'd spent sleeping in his own apartment devoid of the simplest pleasure of having you in his arms as he slept through the night would be how he'd be spending the rest of his nights moving forward. He was at a loss for what he could do to somehow amend your relationship moving forward short of locking you both in a room and offering an ultimatum.

Tell him how he could fix the rift that was caused by Thor's callous words, or tell him that what he feared had finally found its way into your reality. Tell him that there was nothing he could do to mend the damage and that things were truly over between you.

"As you wish, little mortal."

You led him through a search that was guised as an inebriated tour through your alma mater, going through each building with information that you'd either gathered there from firsthand experience from your college years, or from information you amassed looking through testimonials of various alumni.

"Ooh! Come on, I wanna show you something that might just make you proud." You made an entire performance of stumbling toward the god and reaching for his hand, guiding him with carefully choreographed steps backwards with a few planned near slip-ups where you seemed to trip on air and almost fall bum first onto the floor before catching yourself at the last second.

"Don't you know well enough by now, darling, that you constantly impress me?" he shot back at you with a chuckle, fighting every urge to lose himself in the ruse you were both putting on. He wanted more than anything to have this be akin to those films that your fellow teammates were so fond of watching, where the couple would find an empty classroom and proceed to kiss and paw at each other like animals in heat.

He'd found those scenarios so trite before, but he found himself admitting that he was more than open to the idea if the opportunity presented itself with you. He would be willing to do just about anything with you at his side.

"Come on, Mischief," you sing-songed, giggling your way to the heart of one of the buildings dedicated for the science-centric curriculum. "I'm taking to to the lab where we used to brew our own beer. Mix our own booze. You're gonna love it, it's like we were witches brewing potions in here--"

You play-acted your way to stumbling through the double doors of the laboratory, only to be met with resistance and the visual of a thick chain wrapped around the door handles. Immediately you righted your stance, the god signaling to you that he'd taken care of the security cameras. He'd chosen to feed them footage of the two of you indulging in one of those slightly risqué scenarios in the corridor.

With a wave of his hand, the chains materialized on the floor by Loki's feet, and you pushed the doors open to reveal exactly what you'd been looking for. The tables were littered with documents and notes that were watermarked with HYDRA's sigil, each designated work station housing its own compound that when put in the wrong hands, could be utilized in the most sadistic manners.

You went on to look into the filing cabinets that held more research reports while he rounded the table that held the compound surrounded by the most amount of notes scribbled on to the logo-branded papers. He felt the bile rising steadily up his throat at the findings.

Subjects that are exposed to this compound even in its aerated form will feel an intense emotional attachment to the closest set of pheromones within their vicinity, enslaving them to the holder for an indeterminate amount of time. Potency strengthens if the compound is ingested. Theoretically catastrophic potency if somehow introduced directly into subject's bloodstream. Effects inconclusive if holder severs the emotional attachment before the compound has had a chance to be flushed from subject's system, but theoretically, the more potent the remaining dosage that is yet to be metabolized, the more catastrophic the aftermath.

"Darling, they might be experimenting on these students," Loki said grimly, rushing over to you the moment he spotted how much paler your knuckles became from how hard you were gripping the countertop. "What's wrong?"

"There are reports dating back to before you even got to Earth," you told him, the shakiness of your tone at its worst as you tried to speak through the tears bubbling up inside you. "Back to when I was still here."

He thumbed through the report that you were perusing and had to fight every urge to set fire to the entire operation and lay waste to the names that he'd found on the user tests. The most frequent one being the man that he had the displeasure of meeting earlier, Simon Richardson. "These other names, were they your other professors?" You only nodded. He didn't know whether to be relieved or even more horrified realizing that the subject names were kept confidential, hidden under monikers such as "Subject 12-29-A", "Subject 12-29-B" and so forth.

"I think the first number's the year. 12 is 2012. And the second number might be a batch number." You took a few deep breaths before straightening your stance and looking for the nearest computer, fiddling with the comms bracelet that Shuri had equipped you with before you left New York. "Shuri, are you there?"

"I am here, I am here. How is the college party? I have never actually been to one since--"

"Since you're so smart you should probably be teaching these classes, I know I know." A bit of your liveliness came back speaking with the young genius. Loki could even hear a slight smile in your voice. "Could you pull off a remote duplication? I wanna get these experimentation reports to you guys so that we can already start on next moves before Laufeyson and I even get back to New York."

"Does the sun rise in the East, my friend?" The Wakandan princess began to laugh from her end of the call, the sound filling the room. "Put your bracelet near the device and let me do my magic." You did as she instructed, holding your wrist near the computer's power source and a few short moments later, she spoke again. "All done. We will see you when you get back."

"Thanks, Shuri. We'll wrap it up here. I'll see you guys in the morning."

As you shut off your comms and both of you proceeded to place things back exactly where you found them, ensuring that you lessened your chances of HYDRA suspecting anyone had rifled through their research, there was yet another thought that led to a pit forming in Loki's stomach.

What if one of the test subjects in those reports was you?

Loki laid awake, restless, in bed since you both got back to your suite, doing his best to somehow induce slumber upon himself so that he wouldn't have to fight against his mind wandering back to those reports, wondering if one of the subjects that was detailed within those pages could be referring to you. As well as fighting against the parts of him that feared you were pushing him away, forcing his hand into letting you go even if that was the last thing he would ever wish to do.

He had to make a note to give that oaf Thor a swift stab for so thoroughly jeopardizing what could have possibly been the best thing to happen to him. He was more than content with you, he was happy. He could picture what a future with you would be like.

And yes, it would be nice if your relationship would have a physical aspect to it, but that was no dealbreaker for the god. He didn't need it right this second, and for you, he would wait until you reached that level of comfort with him. At your own pace.

He would wait. Even if it meant he waited forever.

Yet here you both were now, sleeping in separate beds in separate rooms all because you believed that he would be better off with someone who had no compunctions on disrobing with him at a moment's notice. He could already feel you slipping away despite how desperately he tried to hold on to you.

The sound of your unrest had him sitting up on his bed, a series of whimpers and cries being heard from your bedroom. What got him darting out and bursting through your door, however, was your scream of "Please no I've been good to you! Why would you do this to me?!"

In a heartbeat he was by your side, cradling you against his chest and trying to wake you from your nightmare. "Shh shh, little mortal, you're safe, please wake up."

"I never told a soul I don't even look at you when there's other people please don't leave me," you kept whimpering, your words hitting the god like bullets straight to his heart. Were you having a nightmare about him?

"I'm here, my love, please. I'm not going anywhere just please wake up," he pleaded desperately, rubbing his hand up and down your back as he pressed multiple kisses to your templed. "I'm here I'll never leave you. Please darling, I love you."

You finally began to breathe a bit slower in his arms, moving so that you were looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Loki?"

Had he been on his feet, the sight of you so distraught would have brought the god to his knees. "Oh my sweet mortal." He cupped your face, wiping your tears away before he pressed a kiss between your brows. He wordlessly maneuvered you into his arms so that he could carry you out of bed and into the kitchen area, fetching you a glass of water.

"I can't--" You sounded as if you were trying to speak through a lump in your throat, more tears falling from your eyes. "I can't talk about--"

"No, darling, it's alright." He placed his hands on your shoulders, trying to guide you into evening out your breaths. "You don't need to tell me anything you're not ready to."

"I want to," you insisted, keeping your eyes glued to the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. "I just--I can't bring myself to say the words, but I need you to know…why. Why I can't--" You cut off with a squeak, gripping the sides of your stool so tightly he feared the metal would start hurting you, so he took them into his hands instead. "Why I can't be with you…physically."

"Darling, please I've told you I don't need--"

"No, you should know. I…I need you to know. I just can't…articulate the words." You started breathing the same way that you would when you would run with the rest of the team, as if your body was compensating for lack of oxygen the best it could. Or as if you were preparing yourself for something particularly uncomfortable. "But I can show you."

"Y/N what are you--"

"I want you to look into my memories. I want you to see. And understand what I can't tell you with words."

He framed your face with his hands, urging you to look at him before he followed through with your request. "Are you absolutely certain, my love?" You just stared at him with your red-rimmed tear-stricken eyes, the surrender and pain in them breaking his heart more than your stoic monotonous attitude from the past weeks ever could. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. "Alright."

He pulled up a seat close to yours, bracing himself for what he would find once he entered your memories. He was terrifyingly right to have done so, because the moment he was hit with the torrents of memories, he would have been brought to his knees had he been upright.

You're such a bright young lady. Such a shame that your peers refuse to see that. How about we grab a cup of coffee? Enjoy it in the faculty area? It'll be way more comfortable than sitting on the floor for the next three hours.

I was supposed to have dinner with some of the other professors but the weather in their area has them stuck at home. Would you like to join me instead? It'd be a shame for the reservation to go to waste.

Loki had to fight back the urge to retch as the visual of Simon Richardson leaning in to kiss you hit him next. And the distant attitude that he extended to you the following day on campus as you crossed paths in the hallway.

It won't be wise for us to be seen together or else people are going to start suspecting something going on. I'll get into trouble, just because we love each other. Of course I love you, silly sweet thing, you're the only one I've ever felt this way for.

He saw multiple occurrences of the professor dropping your hand the second someone even unfamiliar to either of you rounded the corner, a guilt eating away at him as he realized he'd done the same thing with you. He simply didn't want you to have to be exposed to the judgment from the team for being involved with him.

Nobody can know. It has to be our little secret. You understand, don't you? How about we go away somewhere for the weekend? Just you and me? Somewhere where we can actually be a couple. Do couple things. We could walk around and hold hands without being scared of getting caught. I could kiss you whenever and wherever. We could just be…us.

Loki wanted more than anything to look away from the memories of your first night with Richardson. From the way that he was so careless with your body, so ignorant of your pleasure and yet he mumbled empty sentiments of love all throughout the night, insisting that he loved you despite his eyes staying empty. Calculating.

And just a few short weeks after that, and a few more nights spent at his place, you went to campus one morning. And he'd begun to go out for coffee with another student. Someone from the batch of freshmen that had just come in. Your messages went unanswered, your calls were met with the generic voice message prompt.

He discarded you once he had what he desired from you, and foolishly concluded that he could do better.

As if there was anyone better.

When he opened his eyes, his vision was blurred from his own tears, the guilt steadily wearing him down as your explanation hit him as if they were bricks being catapulted his way. Was this the reason you were so hesitant to share his bed? You were afraid that once he claimed your body, he would replace you with another?

Your words from two weeks ago haunted him. If you want to be with someone else, just promise me you'll tell me and leave me first.

"My love," he choked, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I could never do something so vile. Not to you. Never to you. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," you answered weakly, your sniffles breaking him even more. "You didn't know." You made a motion to move out of his arms, the fear seeping into him again that you were going to completely pull away again, making him hold on to your hands tightly. Desperately. "Come on, we have to get some sleep. We're going back to New York in the morning."

"Do you wish to be alone?" He could barely form the words, desperately pleading silently for you to allow him to stay with you tonight.

"No," you confessed, shifting nervously where you stood. "But I don't want you to feel obligated because of what you saw--"

"I won't leave you." The words came out of him in a rush, his lips quivering as he pressed a kiss to your forehead again, trying to calm himself. Trying his best not to march his way back to campus and personally see to it that that wretched excuse of a man not only paid for what he'd done to you, but ensure that he would never do this to another innocent unsuspecting woman ever again.

Trying to remind himself that his need to ensure that you were alright at this moment was greater than his desire to have Simon Richardson's head on a spike.

"You say that now, but we know that one day you're going to be tired of waiting. You have needs--"

"I need you more. I want you more," he insisted, burying his nose in your hair, your presence keeping him grounded. "I promised you I would spend my days proving my devotion to you. I more than intend to keep this promise. I am yours, precious little mortal." He kissed a path to your ear. "All I want at this moment is to stay with you tonight. Let me hold you. Let me try to fight your night terrors away."

It was as if a weight was lifted off his chest when you wordlessly nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him carry you back to your bedroom.

Loki held you through the night, relieved that you didn't stir in his arms or show any sign that you might have fallen into another nightmare. However, the god was now haunted by a memory of his own. One from the first few days of your relationship.

Darling, I think it best that perhaps…we don't tell the others quite yet that we've become involved. Grant ourselves the privacy that they won't.

His own words echoed in his mind, taunting him of the monumental mistake he'd made asking you to agree to such selfish terms. How he enforced that agreement by committing actions that eerily echoed the very memories that haunted you now.

He remembered the look in your eyes when he uttered those words, asking you to aid him in hiding your relationship away from the rest of the team. When he closed his eyes he could see the crestfallen expression on your face so vividly, making him despise himself for ever causing you to mar your features with that pain you tried to hide from him.

And finally…the realization that gutted him. You never agreed to those terms. All you said in response was "That makes sense".

You simply surrendered.

"I'm so sorry, my darling mortal," he spoke into the darkness, holding you just a fraction tighter, fearing that if he let go even in the slightest, you might slip away from him. "I'll make things better. I will do right by you, I swear it."

A/N: Lemme just…slide a dagger Loki's way real quick. 😤😤

And lemme offer this as my apology for this chapter…

I can promise u that Simon will get what's coming to him in the final part of this story. And I can promise that Loki will in fact make things right with his bb 🥺🥺

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @cabingrlandrandomcrap

#loki angst #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

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yanderes-galore · 10 months ago

Note

I'm so happy MLP is open because I read them roughly 50 times. Each.

Anywayyyyy

What about a rivalry between Sombra and Chrysalis rivalry??

Ohhhh, I love this idea! I'm not on the Grogar season yet so this is me mostly making comparisons with research.

Yandere! King Sombra with Pegasus! Darling

Yandere! Queen Chrysalis with Pegasus! Darling

Yandere! Queen Chrysalis vs King Sombra

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Jealousy, Manipulation, Stalking, Hypnotism, Kidnapping, Violence, Clingy behavior, Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

This is a cool rivalry for me due to their differences in how they go about their obsession.

It's also neat because they're both enemies of the Crystal Empire in their debut.

What may make them clash is the differences in their courting/possession of their darling.

I don't have a general concept for them but ironically they both have a concept with a Pegasus darling on here so there's that-

Queen Chrysalis feeds off the love radiating from her darling.

She does anything she can to get it, even to the point of disguising as a friend or lover to get it.

She's sneaky and farms your love and adoration along with using her magic to hypnotize you into giving more.

She finds your love tastes the sweetest which makes her want even more.

She'll be any type you want if it means she gets to have a feast.

Plus her changelings keep a close eye on you.

She's possessive and replaces those around you with her hive.

She'll do anything to keep your love on her while masquerading as your lover.

Eventually she doesn't just love you for the magic, she loves you because she's addicted to you.

Then there's King Sombra... something completely different.

As you can tell his way of obsession clashes with Queen Chrysalis.

He's a pony made into shadow, a unicorn king who controls ponies through fear.

He is controlling of you through his magic and likes to make you fear him more than love him willingly.

He is the opposite of Queen Chrysalis' plan of being subtle.

How is she supposed to feed off your love if King Sombra keeps controlling you with fear to keep you to himself?

This is what makes them fight as they are both quite possessive.

They could never share as they conflict too much.

They are both manipulative and possessive, a dangerous combo when they are in a rivalry.

Queen Chrysalis no doubt tries to make you trust her more.

Are you scared of the umbral king? That's okay...

Still under the disguise of your lover she pulls you in closer, hiding you away while she feasts on your love.

Meanwhile King Sombra does whatever he can to expose Queen Chrysalis.

Scared of him? Well... you should be more scared of your lover.

They're using you... that's not even their true self.

Somehow Sombra would knock Chrysalis out of her disguise to make you run back to him.

There's no winning this scenario for you.

You don't want to pick either of them but they aren't going to give you a choice.

Eventually either Sombra will materialize and take you away or Chrysalis will send changelings to drag you back to her home.

They no doubt would fight often.

Queen Chrysalis has the advantage in numbers but King Sombra has powerful magic.

They both watch you quietly before finding time to strike.

Even if one acts first, the other will storm them soon after.

Queen Chrysalis is nearly losing it as King Sombra ruined her plan.

They both can use magic to control you but they're constantly countering each other's magic.

You're dragged between the two villains with no possible means of escape.

You can only hope the Princess of Friendship helps you...

Surely she can get rid of them and save you, right?

#yandere my little pony #yandere mlp #yandere mlp fim #yandere my little pony friendship is magic #yandere king sombra #yandere queen chrysalis

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verbenaa · 9 months ago

Text

opus 4 (nothing compares to the sighs that fall from your lips)

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:

“Have I mentioned how absolutely divine you look, darling?”

“Well, you did make the gown.” Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him closer as you arch into him. He buries his face into your chest, kissing and licking at the skin bared to him above the low neckline.

“It’s quite easy when you have such a lovely muse.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Astarion/Reader

𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut, 18+

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 6.9k

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: exhibitionism, frottage/thigh riding, clothed sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, vampire bites, blood, soft dom astarion, tailor astarion strikes again

𝑎/��: if larian can't give us a masquerade, then i will! welcome to my current fixation which has been this masquerade ball fic. idk there is no rhyme or reason to this, its just fun and indulgent and glittery. i hope you enjoy and please like/comment/reblog etc ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

ao3 here

masterlist

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The chandeliers twinkle brightly from the cavernous ceiling above as you float across the polished ballroom floor, slippered feet moving swiftly as your dance partner twirls you around, an arm wrapped tight around your waist while the other grasps your hand as he leads you through the elegant steps of a waltz.

Wine burns through your veins as it sings a siren’s song, the sanguine liquid slipping down your throat with ease this evening, the vintage aged to perfection. Melted wax drips from the tapers decorating the room, their flames no more than whirls of shining light as you spin around and around, gown fluttering with every elegant movement.

It wasn’t often you attended these sorts of events, despite the amount of invitations you’ve received over the years. Being the most recent hero of Baldur’s Gate had its occasional perks it would seem, and this ball was certainly one of them.

It was the same routine every time. You would open the frequently ostentation envelopes, perfect calligraphy written with expensive pots of colored ink on the front and oversized wax seals in golds and reds and blues on the back. Inevitably, after a passing glance at whatever solicitation lay inside you would feed it to your hearth, letting the fire gobble it up as it burns to black.

This particular invitation, however, had caught your eye. The envelope itself was nothing of particular elegance, though the black of the envelope and silver lettering did stand out among the others in your post box that day. The matching silver wax seal on the back opened easily with a quick flick of your letter opener, and a singular word on the thick vellum piqued your interest in a way that few ever did on these inane things.

Masquerade.

You can easily recall the way the word made your heart jump, mind moving to the imagined scenarios of your younger years, the adventures of storybook heroines always featuring stories of flowing gowns and glittering masks.

Your own gown flows around your form as you dance the steps, soft fabric laying perfectly against your curves as braided straps of silk rest over your shoulders. The skirt flows down around a high slit up the thigh, velvet the color of the deepest ivy brushing against the marbled floors with every movement.

The metallic threads glow in the candlelight, embroidered designs of liquid silver cascade in small clusters down the bodice and onto the skirt like little groups of stars falling from the sky. The low back of the dress leaves you uncharacteristically bare, almost everything above the line of your waist exposed, though the air is warm against your skin with all the bodies present this evening.

Your dance partner cuts a dashing figure, a vision of velvet and quicksilver in his own right. He looked made for the part—like some dark hero from a storybook come to life in front of your eyes.

Gods, he looked so handsome.

Your cheeks flush as you watch him, following his lead as his hands tighten around you, that familiar knowing smirk decorating his elegant features even with the dark mask he wears obscuring the top half of his features, claret eyes framed with black and silver.

You pull yourself closer to Astarion, filling your senses with his familiar and comforting scent as he continues to lead you through the steps with sleek perfection, footsteps confident and head held high under his disguise.

The dance ends, orchestra moving on from the dreamy waltz you had just turned about to on the floor, a lilting concerto taking its place after a brief respite. Astarion leads you to the side of the dance floor, a hand poised on your waist as you walk to the fringes of the room.

You touch his velvet-covered shoulder, the intricately embroidered doublet matching the color of your own gown to perfection, down the same argent threads. The two of you were certainly coordinated this evening, if nothing else.

It had taken little to convince Astarion to agree to join you, his own love for overdramatic and lavish debauchery too much to deny something like a masquerade ball. He had certainly wasted no time designing outfits for the two of you, spending extra moments throughout his evenings constructing and embroidering them until every detail was as perfect as he had envisioned.

“Astarion!” You whisper into a delicately pointed ear, an emerald earring glinting in the candlelight as you rest your hand on his bicep, leaning your weight into him. “Go get us more wine!”

“You absolute lush.” His smile is fond as he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, careful not to disturb the delicate lace mask resting over your eyes, satiny ribbon tied behind your head in a pretty, perfect bow.

It was hard to deny his comment, especially when there was that delightful fuzziness that occupied your every sense, clouding everything in a wonderfully warm haze. You had easily lost track of the number of glasses you had imbibed over the evening, though you are fairly certain you simply misplaced some still half full goblets on the random trays of servers who wandered through the space.

Your thoughts swirl as he walks away from you in search of more spirits, his retreating figure a vision. He really was too handsome, dressed in his finery like this. Maybe you were wrong all these years to give your regrets to so many an occasion, if seeing Astarion dressed in the rich velvets and silks he deserved to wear was to be your prize.

A hand on your shoulder draws your attention, and you turn a moment later, reactions slowed by the alcohol still dancing in your veins. Behind you is a man, handsome enough—if only in a rather ordinary way—his warm brown eyes looking out at you from behind a mask of bright crimson as he gives you a friendly smile.

“I must ask how such a lovely gem such as yourself is simply wandering around alone on a night like this?” The words are meant to be suave and charming, though you ignore them, as uninterested in the man now standing before as you are in his words or the meaning behind them. Your eyes draw instead to a overflowing vase of flowers on a table behind him, a downright gaudy display of cultivated blooms bursting from an equally ostentatious vase.

“Do you happen to know what type of flowers those are behind you?” You point at them, not addressing the man’s prior words to you. He turns to look behind him with befuddlement, taking in the large arrangement with barely a blink of his eyes before he turns back, scanning up and down your velvet-clad figure.

“I’m afraid flowers aren’t my specialty.” His answer is short and no-nonsense, he was clearly a man uninspired and uncreative if that was the best he could come up with, the roll of your eyes mostly obscured by the lace covering your face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting you before, may I ask your name?” He sidles ever a bit closer, and you take a measured step back in response as you cross your arms casually in front of you, head tilting to the side as you observe him.

“How could you know? We are masked, after all.”

“It would be my honor, my dear mysterious Lady, to have your next dance?” His words are polite, even with such blunt forwardness.

You are saved from having to answer by an arm wrapping around your waist from behind, that wonderfully delicious scent of bergamot and brandy filling your senses with his presence.

The man across from you looks affronted at Astarion’s arrival, eyes falling to the arm wrapped tightly around your body and the angular face pressing against the crown of your head.

“Darling, won’t you introduce me to your new friend?”

“Oh! My love, you’ve returned!” Your smile is beatific as you turn towards him, eyes meeting his own you look for your promised goblet of wine.

“You never mentioned you were…partnered.” The man—what was his name again?—says before you two, a frown etched onto his features.

“Well, you never asked. This is my—” Astarion cuts you off before you can finish.

“Husband.” There’s a prideful possessiveness to his words that strike your interest, though you fight the urge to roll your eyes all the same. You and Astarion may be life partners, but married you were not.

“Here you are, my sweet.” He holds the full goblet towards you as it dangles between his elegant fingers, wine threatening to spill from its silvered edges. “Now, let us continue our fête elsewhere, hm?”

You give the man a bored look before turning away, downing your wine quickly before moving to place the empty silver on the table behind him, the overlarge bouquet towering over you. Without a second glance, Astarion takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back before stepping away with you into the crowd beyond.

He leads you to a secluded corner, the area obscured by the shadows of the lofty space. Astarion’s footsteps finally slow as you near the wall and he notices your raised brow, an expectant expression on your face.

“Married, Astarion? When exactly was our wedding day, just so I don’t forget the anniversary.” You speak wryly, an amused smile on your lips. “I’d hate to not get you a gift.”

“Well, we may as well be married. Don’t you agree?”

“I certainly don’t see a ring on my finger.” You make to look at your hand, a playful smile old your lips as you tease him. Astarion’s frown deepens, a look of childish petulance crosses his features, obvious even with the mask hiding his expressive eyebrows.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous that another man was simply talking to me?”

“Darling, I think he would have done more than simply talk to you if you’d let him,” He rolls his eyes, exhaling a huff as his hands come to rest above the swell of your hips, bracketing your waist with those talented, nimble fingers.

“Besides, he wasn’t talking, he was flirting with you.” You could swear he was pouting, amusement building with every passing minute as you bite your lip to hide your growing smile.

“I hadn’t noticed, honestly.” Your shrug is a touch too put on, the casualness of the action at odds with the finery you wear as the smile you try to hide escapes, painting your features with a certain cunning that Astarion knows all too well.

“Oh, I think you knew exactly what you were doing, darling, letting that man flirt with you.” Astarion’s hands on your velvet covered waist tighten as he walks you backward, not stopping until your back meets the intricately wainscoted wall, the two of you partially obscured by the heavy drapery of a nearby balcony.

“You’re far too smart, my sweet, to be so unaware.” The rest of ball swirls on obliviously around you both, dizzying in its opulence as music from the orchestra begins its climb to a rousing crescendo.

A coy smirk is the only answer you give him, the incline of your head daring him to continue as the lace covering your eyes only adds to your mystique tonight. The wine running through your veins turns your body hot, your confidence brimming with the help of the alcohol.

“And so what if I did, Astarion?” His ornate mask does little to hide the spark flaring to life in his crimson irises, thumbs tracing circles dangerously high on your ribcage as he steps closer into your space, the flowing skirt of your gown brushing against his own finery as he pushes close.

“Then I suppose you leave me no choice but to give you a little lesson, dearest.”

One of the hands at your waist skates up, passing over your breast before brushing up the column of your neck, hand wrapping lightly around your throat as you lean your head up to look at him. His fingers brush over leftover scars from feedings past, and the sudden pressure on your throat has your body on high alert, heat licking at the bottom of your belly as you inhale a shaky breath.

Astarion’s mouth crashes down onto yours, stealing your breath as he kisses you with abandon. You answer his kiss with your own hunger, opening your lips to welcome his tongue. Your free hand comes up to brush against his chest, fingers tightening in the fabric to pull his body closer as your lips and tongue move against his own.

Your back is pressed hard against the wall behind you, the molded wood cool as Astarion crowds you, his chest pushed tight against your breasts. You widen your legs slightly and he quickly fills the space, a covered thigh coming to rest in between the slight spread of your own.

Astarion’s lips move to your jaw, your head tilting for him as the hand on your neck gives one last squeeze before brushing down your side until it finds your hip. The thigh between your legs presses in harder, and you thank the Gods that Astarion had the wherewithal to design a gown with such a high slit as you feel the fabric of his pants against your bare skin of your upper thigh.

The hand on your hip pushes you slightly forward and your covered center makes contact, the hard muscles of his leg rubbing deliciously against your core. You choke on a moan, and you can feel his smirk against your skin as his lips caress that spot behind your ear you love so much.

“Do you think you can do it? Ride my thigh with all these people milling about?” His words are spoken low into your ear as your eyes fall shut at the tone of his voice, the devious lust that permeates every word sending a shiver through your body.

You bite your lip as you tug him closer, burying your face into his neck. You move your hips, starting with a slow movement, barely enough to provide any relief. But you feel it, all the same, cheeks flaming as you focus on Astarion and his leg, the alcohol drowning out the noise of the rest of the ball around you.

What must you look like, you wonder, to anyone who happens to look on? You hope that the image of you together is only that of a pair of lovers embracing closely, too lost in their own world to care about anything else.

You can feel your wetness growing with every pass over his thigh as your hips undulate in soft motions, Astarion’s body pressed as close as possible to your own, shielding you with his form as much as he can from your place in the shadows.

The feeling is wonderful, enticing in such a public arena, but it is far from enough. Your arousal grows, the dampness seeping through your underwear and onto the dark velvet of his pants as his cock twitches against you, his length hard as it strains against the fabric.

You feel his hand come down from your waist to brush against the slit where it falls against your thigh, his fingers tracing up and down your skin in teasing passes.

Those fingers slide inside the skirt of your gown, grazing the outside of your thigh as they make their way towards your ass. Your skin is hot where his cool fingers touch, a blazing line of heat marking every movement they make as he caresses the flesh barely hidden by your underwear.

“How wet are you, darling?” His words are sinful as he whispers them in your ear, hand easing under the line of your panties to rub against your bottom, his fingers creeping ever closer to the place where your aching cunt connects with his leg.

“Astarion,” You whine in his ear, hand gripping the collar of his doublet. “Please.”

You don’t even know what you are begging for, but as Astarion’s fingers finally find your wetness you are unable to conceal the moan that falls from your lips. His fingers move, just enough to gather evidence of your arousal on his fingertips.

“Oh, you sweet thing. You like this, don’t you?” You can hear the smirk in his voice as his hand trails away from the center of you, brushing back past your underwear and out of your gown. He brings the fingertips up to press against his lips, tongue sneaking out to lick at the slight sheen that coats them.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight, your breathing hard as your eyes trace his features.

Astarion’s hand covers your own where it grips at his collar as his other adjusts himself in his pants, hiding his erection as best he can from sight. He pulls away from you, helping you adjust your dress with quick fingers. Your eyes catch upon the sight of your arousal on his pants, catching the light as he turns. You cheeks burn at the sight, your swallow audible.

“Follow me, love.” You don’t question him on where he is heading as he makes a line for the closest set of ballroom doors, pace quick as he weaves the both of you through the sea of bodies that make up the cities’ finest members of society.

“Are we going home?” You whisper quietly as you follow, unsure if you were ready to commit the incandescent aura of the evening to memory alone quite yet.

It had taken hours to get ready, time spent bathing together before pampering each other—applying scented oils on skin and through hair, Astarion helping you pin your hair into its complicated updo this evening taking almost an hour alone, his fingers applying the rouge to your cheeks and lips with care as he admired your features with the utmost affection. No, you certainly weren’t ready to leave quite yet.

“It would be a shame to end the evening so early, don’t you think?” Relief and joy spills through you in equal measure at his words, eager to continue tonight’s festivities, whatever they may be.

You walk through the main hall, hand in hand with Astarion, the wine still buzzing in your head as he draws you up the large, elegant staircase of swirling marble. Your presence goes unnoticed as you pass others dressed in their own finery, shimmers of glitters and gems, silks and tulles flowing past as you climb step after step.

You make it up the rise of the large staircase, skirt twirling as you spin around momentarily to take in the scene of the party now beneath you. Its a world of luster that takes your breath away, everything filtered with the heady glow from the candelabras and wine flowing aplenty.

With a tug on your hand, Astarion leads you away from the center of the room, breaking off to go down a smaller corridor to the side before cutting aside on one or two more until you are isolated, the noise of the orchestra below now faraway and faint.

The hallway feels hushed and hidden away, safe from the prying eyes of society as the candlelight sconces adorning the walls flicker, dancing fragment of light illuminating the narrow corridor. Astarion walks you back with hands on your waist until you feel the half-paneled wall against your uncovered back, the wallpaper ornate with scrolling vines and berries, vibrant reds and greens contrasting against the darkness of your gown.

Astarion’s head bends to your chest, pressing a tender kiss onto the swell of your breast, over the place your heart beats in three-quarter time.

“Have I mentioned how absolutely divine you look, darling?”

“Well, you did make the gown.” Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him closer to your breasts as you arch into him. He buries his face into your chest, kissing and licking at the skin bared to him above the low neckline.

“It’s quite easy when you have such a lovely muse.” His nose nuzzles at the flesh of your breast, breathing in your scent as he groans against you, pressing his hips against your own so you can feel the evidence of his prominent erection.

Astarion bites down into the flesh of your breast that rises above your gown without warning, fangs piercing the tender skin that heaves with your breath as he drinks in the sweetness of your blood. It flows thick in brightly colored streams, a surprised moan ripping from your lips at the sudden action.

He sucks from the swell above your gown, blood dripping to stain the bodice as he licks and tastes the rich claret of you made all the sweeter from the wine, his hand drawing down your belly before dipping lower.

He finds that slit on your thigh, hand working its way underneath before moving to cup around your wetness as you cover your mouth with your hand, hiding your moans behind a palm as your eyes flutter shut.

Astarion moans at the dampness he finds there, fingers quick to push aside the gusset of your underwear to run his fingers through your slick folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, spreading your wetness up and down the expanse of your center. You can feel his erection pressing against you, still hidden by his pants as he relishes your body’s reaction to his actions, lips still licking and sucking at the skin of your breast.

The fingers at your core move to rub your clit, the light pressure a relief as you bite your bottom lip to keep quiet, eyes glancing to the side quickly before closing once more to indulge in the feeling, his mouth not letting up as he savors your lifeblood.

“Astarion, what if someone sees us?” Nerves make their way into your soft voice, barely a whisper as your body tenses slightly with unease at the prospect of being seen by another. Astarion’s head lifts away from your breast, fangs leaving twin pinpricks on your chest, blood pulsing from the wounds in time with your heart as his eyes draw up to your own.

“No one will recognize us, my dear.” A finger circles your entrance, and your knees threaten to buckle under the pleasure. “Though we can stop if you want to.”

You hesitate and Astarion’s fingers pause to give you time to think, his mouth still drinking from the blood leaking from your breast, tongue licking at any stray drops.

“No,” You shake your head, needing little time to ruminate on the decision. “Please, don’t stop.” You let the desperation you feel run into your hushed voice as you give him your consent to continue, your hands in his hair brushing through the strands as you buck your hips into his hand.

“Thank the Gods.” His finger pushes in, working its way into you with sinfully slow movements, your head hitting the wall behind you as you let out a hiss at the feeling. You can hear your wetness as his finger dives deep, the sound of it obscene in the otherwise silent hallway.

“Gods, you’re so wet,” He kisses against your collar bone, nuzzling into the skin there as he breathes in your scent. “Who knew you were such an exhibitionist? Absolutely filthy of you, sweetheart.”

You whine at his words, Astarion coaxing more quiet moans from your lips as his finger pumps deep inside you. His free hand trails up to your shoulder, pushing off the delicate strap of your gown before moving down to pull at your bodice.

Taking care not to rip the velvet, Astarion succeeds in freeing the breast he had fed on, hand coming up to weigh it in a palm as his mouth licks at the exposed nipple.

He sucks on the hardened peak as his finger pulls out of you only to be joined by a second a moment later, the stretch barely noticeable with your wetness aiding his smooth thrusts in and out of your cunt.

His fingers curl against your walls as his tongue licks at your nipple, laving the peak as he finds that special place, deep inside your body and presses into it.

He’s relentless as his mouth works your breast and his beautiful fingers fuck you, his other hand squeezing the breast still covered, fingers working underneath the fabric to brush at the nipple.

It would be so easy to come like this, a fact Astarion does not miss as he can feel your body’s reaction, the telltale tension building inside you. Slowly his fingers leave your heat, brushing up against your clit with slippery motions as you whimper at the loss of them. He presses one last kiss to the tip of your breast, still wet with his lingering saliva, before he lowers to his knees in front of you.

“Astarion, what are you doing?” Your words are breathless as your hands run through his hair, the mask on his face slightly askew.

“I still seem to be a bit peckish still, though for a slightly different taste.” Warmth rushes to your cheeks as they flush, the alcohol still floating through your body painting everything in that same warm haze that has surrounded you through the night.

Astarion’s hands glide up your legs, brushing over soft thighs as he grabs at either side of the underwear where it rests low across your hips. His eyes flick up to yours as he pulls it down, guiding the thin, lacy fabric down your legs. He’s unhurried, clearly not worried about being caught or seen as he takes his time while his eyes never leave yours. He steadies you as you step out of the panties, pocketing the damp lace with a roguish smirk and raise of his brows.

His hand wraps around your thigh, pushing it up and pinning it against the wallpaper as he holds you open to his gaze. Your pussy is absolutely dripping for him, the sight of his otherworldly beauty as he stares at the center of you, open for him, takes the breath from your lungs.

There would be no mistaking what was happening if someone were to come upon you now—Astarion kneeling before you, supplicant, as he bares you to himself—unmistakable to anyone gifted with eyesight.

Astarion leans in to press a kiss to the thigh he has pinned, lips moving across the smooth skin with the lightest of touches before skipping over your weeping core to kiss the opposite thigh. You whine at the blatant misdirection of his mouth, hips bucking in indignation with as much motion as you can manage.

“Oh, I’m sorry—did you want something, darling?” He moves his face away from your body to shoot a look upwards, his features smug as he sees the abject desire in your gaze tempering the glare you shoot down at him.

“I thought you were still hungry, dearest.” You keep your words sweet, not letting the aching want you feel bleed into your voice as your eyes narrow.

“Patience, sweet thing. I’m sure I’ve taught you about it once or twice before, have I not?” His head dips forward once more, breathing in the scent of your essence with a performative sigh. “Now, ask nicely. And do use your words and tell me what you want.”

“Astarion!” You start, exasperation building as you contemplate the words to say to appease him. He could be so demanding at times like this, a trait you found yourself caught between loving and hating in equal measure, though ‘loving’ did usually win out in the end.

You briefly debate making him wait for your words, watching his own impatience grow as you play coy, but this certainly isn’t the time or place for what could be a long, drawn out battle of wills on who would break first.

“Fine. Pretty please, Astarion, will you do me the honor of licking my cunt until I come? Preferably before we get caught?” Your frustration mounts as you say the words though you find the strength to keep your tone as breezy and unaffected as his own, despite the slight embarrassment beginning to creep in as the elusive power of the wine fades ever so slowly with every minute that passes.

Astarion grants you your wish with a wide, feline smile, licking a stripe up the center of you, his tongue running through your folds before brushing lightly against your clit as he savors the taste of you.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

His tongue laps at your folds, taking his time to move up and down in languid strokes, never focusing on any one place. It’s a maddening feeling, a whine slipping from your throat as your hips roll, asking for more.

His tongue dips into your entrance, whorling around the opening as he tastes you, his moan against your cunt matching the one that leaves your mouth. Your hands tighten in his hair, hips writhing as his tongue thrusts inside you.

Astarion is eager to taste your essence, tongue flicking deep in your waiting wetness as hushed cries fall from your lips with every brush against your walls. You could sob from the feeling of the lightning hot pleasure that works through your body in time with every push of his tongue. He eats you out like a man starved, his mouth moving against your entrance as he works to plunge you closer towards ecstasy.

His motions are fast-paced, quicker than normal as he works to bring you to your peak, and you whine once more when he tongue leaves to lave at your folds instead. Two fingers are quick to replace his tongue inside you as he circles your clit instead, flicking the pearl simultaneously with perfectly timed thrusts of his fingers, curling up into that special spot.

“You really are so good when you set your mind to it, love.”

Your pleasure ratchets higher, a tremor running through your body as the leg supporting you grows weak with your impending orgasm, muscles in your thigh shaking slightly.

“Astarion, please don’t stop,” Your begging only serves to spur him on, tongue moving faster and his fingers curling faster with a repetitive motion that has your body tightening around him.

“That’s it, darling, come for me.” Astarion’s words are reverent, and you embrace them as you hurtle over the edge, euphoria rushing through your body, the feeling enhanced by the leftover wine as your fingers grip tight in his hair.

You come on his fingers and tongue, Astarion working you through the waves of your completion as they flow through your body, your cunt spasming tight as his tongue doesn’t stop licking at your clit. You bite the flesh of your lip, the delicate skin splitting under your teeth as you keep the sounds of your orgasm at bay, tiny dots of red spilling over your lips.

You uncurl your fingers from his hair, smoothing out the curls as your breathing evens out and your orgasm leaves you in a sense of pleasant euphoria. Astarion presses soft kisses against the skin of your inner thigh as his fingers finally slow inside of you before pulling out. He places one last kiss to your entrance, licking up the remnants of your come before he leans back and places your leg back down onto the ground.

He rises from the floor with a graceful motion, hands skating up your curves as his mouth crashes against your own. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he kisses you, the flavor of your own blood and come dizzying.

Astarion licks at the blood on your lip, sucking on the mark as it bleeds. You open your mouth to him, his tongue tangling with your own as he deepens the kiss. Your hands work in a frenzy with his own to loosen his pants, the button finally coming free in your rush to free his cock from the confines of his clothing.

Astarion pulls his hardness from his underwear and you pump him, the velvety feel of his shaft warmer than normal as your blood courses through his veins. He moans into your mouth, hips pressing closer to you as you work his cock up and down, his precome shining in the light of the sconces as you spread the fluid on the heat of him.

His hands move down from your hips, brushing over your bottom as he grasps under the curve of your rear, squeezing.

“Up.” You are quick to obey, eager to feel him inside you as you jump up, Astarion catching you as his hips pin you in place against the wall, his hands supporting your weight in a tight hold against your ass.

The half paneling of the wall presses into your back as you push your dress out of the way, the skirt easily parting around the slit as you guide his cock to your waiting cunt, still wet with your come. Astarion stares at your mouth as you lick at the precome that coats your fingers, pupils blown wide as you take a finger into your mouth and suck.

“Like the taste, darling?” Astarion’s erection finds your entrance, your wetness coating the crown of his cock as he bucks in shallowly, the head barely pressing inside you.

“Always. I think I’d like to have a little more.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you roll your hips against his cock, taking him slightly deeper inside your waiting warmth as you lick at his lips.

Astarion lets out a low growl as he pushes inside you in a single thrust, gliding home as hips meet your own. You both moan at the feeling of him inside you, the satisfaction of Astarion finally filling you euphoric as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Did you design this dress thinking about how you would fuck me in it?” Astarion sets a steady pace as he moves his hips, your own meeting his thrusts as best as you can with such a limited range of motion.

“Of course I did,” He licks at the blood drying on your lip. “I thought about how beautiful you would look coming on my cock wearing it, too.”

He pumps his cock harder, hips rutting against your own as your arms around his neck tighten, bringing him ever closer to you. Your lips meet once more, pressing against one another’s to silence the noises of pleasure breaking from your throats with every thrust.

“No one can make you come like I can, can they?.” His words come on an quiet exhale of exertion, tinged with the smallest bit os what sounds like possession, his lips brushing against your own with each syllable that leaves his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re still jealous, Astarion?” You can still feel the leftover fog from your orgasm, hands playing the hair at the nape of his neck, the strands soft against your fingers as you try catch your breath in vain, every thrust of his cock making it harder and harder to breathe.

“I want to hear you to say it.” The hands on your ass squeeze, cock hammering harder into your center. “Say: ‘No one can fuck me like you’.”

There’s a familiarity to the veiled desperation in voice, though its been years since you’ve heard it. You would know the sound of it anywhere, the cadence of his longing to be wanted and loved and cared for burned into your mind for eternity, settling there like a haze over your vision.

Your heart grows tender at his words, and you hold onto him tighter, pressing a kiss to his lips before giving him the words you know he needs to hear from your rouged lips.

“No one can make me come like you,” A kiss to the tip of his nose where his face rests close to your own.

“No one can fuck me like you,” A kiss to one cheek, then the other.

“There is no one for me but you, Astarion. Only you.” Finally, his lips—your love and passion pouring out onto him with the simple press of your lips against his, a hand coming to brush his cheek.

“Gods, I love you.” His thrusts grow sloppy as he grips your hips harder, mouth falling open against your own as his pleasure builds.

“I love you too.” You lips part with the tilt of your head backwards as Astarion hits a particularly deep place inside you, fingers curling hard into the fabric covering his shoulders. He thrusts faster, making sure to hit against the same spot on every push forward.

Astarion’s hand sneaks from behind you to press against your clit, rubbing quick circles as his thrusts grow frenzied, losing their rhythm as he chases his impending high, intent to bring you with him over the edge.

“Will you come inside me? I want to feel you.” You press a kiss onto the shell of his ears as you whisper the words, your tongue darting out to tease at the sensitive skin of the elegant point.

“Is that what you want, darling? My come?” His hips stutter at your words spoken so intimately as you clutch at him, the warmth of your cunt drawing him closer and closer to his peak.

“Gods, yes. Please!” You aren’t afraid to beg as his fingers strum fast on your clit as his thrusts hit deep, your vision clouding over as another orgasm nears.

“Then take it, love.” Astarion buries his face into your neck as he comes, hot spurts of his spend spilling deep inside your body as you ride him through his completion. The feeling of him coming is exhilarating, and his fingers don’t stop until you crest over with him, the contractions of your cunt drawing him in tight as you take all you can of him as he hides his moans into your skin.

You roll your hips on his still hard cock as you work yourself through your orgasm, Astarion still pumping his own shallowly inside you as he comes down, breath hot against your neck.

Slowly, the world settles back down, both you coming back to yourselves from where you stand against the wall, breathing slowing.

Astarion’s cock is soft as he pulls from you, his come sliding out with it to make a mess onto your thighs. Astarion watches as his come collects at your entrance, the fingers on your clit moving downwards to push it back inside you with a gentle motion.

“Waste not, want not, my love.” Astarion’s finger curls one last time to press against your walls as you squirm, your body overly sensitive in the aftermath of your orgasm.

He presses a kiss to your forehead before removing his finger, moving his hands to help you stand back on the floor with steady feet.

He pulls your panties out of his pocket, bending down onto a knee as he helps you back into them, gently lifting one ankle after the other as you still catch your breath, before he raises the ruined lace back up your legs.

He adjusts the skirt of your gown, making sure the velvet falls perfectly before he presses a soft kiss to your covered stomach. He rises, fingers tracing your form as he does, dragging the long forgotten silk shoulder strap back where it belongs as you work your breast back into the bodice.

“Astarion.” You touch at his cheek, capturing his attention as he looks back at you. His gaze is clear as his eyes meet your own, the beautiful crimson red of them soft as he searches your face.

“You really are the only one, Astarion. You are the only one I will ever love, until my dying breath. There will never be anyone else.” You watch as your words settle over him like a balm, the love you feel radiating into him as he accepts them into his own heart.

His features soften even as he scoffs at your words, his hand coming up to cover your own on his face despite himself.

“Oh, I know. Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it.” You let him lie, willing to let him keep this facade in tact.

“I’ll say it as many times as you wish.” Astarion’s hand takes your own where it rests on his face, pressing a kiss into the palm before lowering your joined hands.

“I’ll be sure to let you know, darling.” Astarion adjusts his own finery, settling the velvet back to rights as his eyes draw to the bodice of your ruined gown.

“Did you account for potential bloodshed when you designed the dress too?” You remark as you eyes follow his own line of sight, looking down at the blood staining the velvet dark with wet, sticky blotches.

“Let’s just be thankful that blood and wine look similar.”

“Nothing we can do about that bite mark though.” You sigh as you attempt to pull up the neckline slightly higher to no avail.

“Everyone will simply have to be left to wonder, then, won’t they?” Astarion bends down to press a fluttering kiss over the marks decorating your chest, squeezing your hand.

“Think you have another dance in you?” You squeeze at his hand back in response.

“I suppose we still have a few more hours before sunrise to wile away.” Astarion walks, gently pulling you after him as the pair of you make your way back to the glittering ballroom below. “Let’s go have some more fun.”

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #my writing #love u all thanks for reading kisses

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