#still thinking about the tower bridge scene

[rita-repulsa-ke]

What Eve Loves

Eve loves— Adrenaline Blowing up her life Being self-righteous Bodies Your body? Probably It is a perfect body Perfect face Very lovable, no matter what your mother says Said She thinks about your face (Eve, not your mother) (Eve is nothing like your mother) It’s all she sees when she closes her eyes That is nice! So nice It is only you’ve noticed that when her eyes are open she can’t seem to look at you at all

[chimimon]

What Gave Me Away?

Astarion x f!Reader

Word Count 9.5k

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: GAMEPLAY SPOILERS! & ROMANCING ASTARION SPOILERS! Mentions of canonical violence, Astarion POV, angst, with comfort (it ends nice I promise), slow burn, depictions of anxiety, depression, anger, insecurity, guilt, manipulation, blood drinking (of course), and it’s long as fuuuuuuu

& what I have to say is… As it turned out, I had played all of Act 2 out of order, and stopped doing that before I did some irreversible damage to my Moonrise Tower to-do list. Which means when I began to write this fic EVERYTHING WAS OUT OF ORDER. It still might be but idgaf anymore. Even the mf confession scene (I WIN! I WIN AND I DIDN’T EVEN TRY TO CHARM THAT VAMPIRE MF) I was sitting in my room, phone on my chest, Baldurs Gate in my hands googling ‘what to do before moonrise’, ‘moonrise or mausoleum first in bg3’, because I explored much more than I should have, apparently… So this fic has been Frankenstein-ed to death, and the word count has greatly exceeded my expectations. It’s kind of my baby so be nice and give it a little love if you like it… or don’t! I appreciate you either way. And Special thanks to E.P. for the prompt and her friend in SoCal because I was about to screw myself OVEEERRR!

Everything seemed bleak on the way to the Light Inn. Nothing magical or charming about the glowing mushrooms anymore and the air felt as thick as water. Astarion faithfully trudged behind you through the mud, uneven trails, and hostile shadowy figures. But sometimes you would squint at the marker on the map or linger a little longer than you should have. He would watch you squeeze your right hand with your left as you studied the hastily blotted spot, then you would trace the drawn pathway with your left hand while the right one would cover and squeeze your mouth. Beyond scenery, and new objectives, everyone was adapting. They had to; he had to. But you were changing faster than others, faster than him, and much faster than he could keep track of. 

Astarion felt like he was watching you disappear, or feeling you slip out of his hands the way blood from deep wounds squeezed between desperately closed fingers. From kind traveler, comforter, and hopefully hopeless leader, you burned with a desire to be it all. In front of other wandering bodies, the mere strangers swimming through the Underdark, Astarion watched you hold this fire with outstretched, kerosene-soaked hands, just to give someone else light. You might never see these people again, but you did it anyways, even if all it did was burn. Whether it be fighting at some poor soul's side or offering words of comfort, once the rescuee turned to leave Astarion watched to see whatever leftover flame danced in your palms. Some nights he couldn’t even call it that despite you cradling it close to your chest. 

Often times Astarion thought of taking over your dealings even if it meant they’d get a little lost in his blind, apathetic advice. He knew that you were the most levelheaded person to lead but gods you started to look as lost as he already felt. The Inn was just a bridge away, before it was it was a group of protective Harpers away. Before anyone could find a place to lay their heads Astarion felt his patience thin when having to save Isobel was thrown into the mix. But you fought fearlessly. Always saving people without a second to spare, or a second to think. 

Lately, Astarion wondered just where you had been all these years. 

“If possible,” you spoke in soft whispers to Jaheira about your accommodations. “Could I have a single room for tonight? I-I can pay I just-” 

With a quick hand over yours and a warm smile, Jaheira reassured you that after keeping their Selûne Warrior safe, the least she could do was let you have a room to yourself. “It has two beds, but you can push them together for one big one.” You nodded and thanked her with a long breath out. 

Astarion for a moment pretended to be looking at a patron nearby as you walked toward him. But he couldn’t help trying to keep you in scene before you could arrive. Trying to read your shoulders, eyes brows and hands. Truthfully Astarion was looking for something soft in your inventory; he wondered if tonight you might have anything to spare. 

“If you’re hungry,” your worn out, dim voice and all-knowing watch cut in. “You can feed on me tonight if you’d like.” 

“I was just so hoping you’d ask. But are you really looking for alone time?” Giving you a tilted head and lopsided glance was enough to tell him where he stood. “Or are you looking for alone time with me, darling?” 

“I was going to pretend you weren’t obviously eavesdropping, but you’d love that wouldn’t you?” You were warm enough to keep up with a quirked a brow and an equally lazy grin. “After today I feel like everyone can smell me from outside the Inn. So, until I can shower... I don’t even want to think about doing anything other than sleeping in a bed.” 

“I’m sure you don’t.” He whisked behind you and whispered, “But if change your mind, at least think of me.” 

“Aha, I’ll be seeing you later,” the back of your hand smacked your forehead as though you were swooning. “Tonight.” 

A small guilt tugged at his chest before you nodded off and up the stairs. Astarion would lounge around in the waiting area while Karlach gushed over Jaheira from afar. Shadowheart walked alongside her to study the Inn with wholehearted skepticism. Audibly muttering her thoughts about the moon maiden, the area as a whole, and how Shar’s worshippers must have had their reasons. She broke away from Karlach and headed to Astarion with her eyes stuck to Jaheira. “We should probably get to our room them?” 

“Right.” 

On cue, Karlach caught them both headed up the stairs and followed. She waved to Jaheira, still gushing. “Gods isn’t this exciting- oh, hey? Where’d our little leader go?” Karlach asked upon arrival. 

“She might’ve beat us to bed.” Shadowheart smiled. “I wouldn’t blame her if she’s fast asleep, she’s earned it.” 

Astarion thought about letting them know about your requested ‘alone time’ but figured you would come around to telling them after they find you. 

Little drops of drying water decorated the wooden floor in a trail that led down the stairs. Astarion followed the trail with his eyes alongside Karlach who noticed it too. “Wait, Shadowheart,” she called. 

None of them had noticed you pass by with freshly washed hair and a towel around your shoulders.  They all backtracked down the staircase, Karlach stood near a game of chess, Shadowheart by the banister, and Astarion some feet behind you while you knelt in front of a hairless cat. You seemed more at ease tonight. 

“Hello, your highness.” You let your hand keep you steady on the ground as you spoke. “I’ve come to admire your beauty.” The cat sat tall and proud, lifting his head so you can awe at his hairless self. “And what a beautiful cat indeed.” You cooed without reaching to touch the animal. 

The cat nodded and swiftly made its way over to its bed, dismissing you with its whole, hairless body. You stood up, stretched your arms above your head before catching the group lounging nearby. Nothing was said as you politely waved to everyone before turning your attention to a man and child playing chess. 

From behind you couldn’t tell just then who you were looking at but as you rounded the table to get a good view of the game, Raphael and Mol, the Tiefling child who spoke on everyone's behalf earlier, seemed to be in a heated match. Raphael was going to win despite giving Mol pointers. If anything, his pointers were just to remind Mol that she was going to lose no matter the move. 

The child's pouting seemed to give you an idea. You took a drawn-out stretch being sure to overextend your arms and back. Astarion knew exactly what you were doing before you ‘lost your balance’ and knocked into the board. The pieces tipped and rolled in every direction and Raphael shot a knowing look at you, only turning back to the board after his opponent had pieced it back together. 

“Well, go on, Mol.” The devil muttered. 

With one move Mol won the game and shot up from their seat. “Well, that settles it. Fair and square!” They exclaimed proudly. 

“Sure, fair and square.” Raphael nodded up to you. “But before you go,” Mol looked over her shoulder. “Think about my offer.” 

Up and away she went while Raphael turned to his leftover audience. “Fancy seeing you all here, and so far away from the sun.” 

“I didn’t know you struck up deals with children.” Your tone surprised Astarion. 

“Don’t you worry, it’s only a necessary evil. She’ll come around to the only option she has,” Raphael expectantly looked past you to Astarion. “But I have a feeling your little friend has a question they want to ask me.” 

“I do,” Astarion’s eye contact wavered. “I have a proposal.” Raphael mocked him before mentioning something about his how drinking blood would burn more than whiskey. “This is serious business, devil.” Astarion hardened his voice as he explained the runes. From the corner of his eye, he watched you stiffly fold your arms and size Raphael up with a glare. Astarion felt some comfort in that. “I want to know if it’s maybe a contract...” 

“Well, what could it be?” Raphael melodically taunted. “A lover letter, a deed, a contract?” He waved his hand in front of Astarion’s face like he was introducing the opening act in a play. “But I need time to think. I will have to get back to you on that.” 

Astarion whined, reiterating just how serious this was to him before asking, “Just how soon will you get back to me on that?” 

“Soon.” 

At some point you fidgeted with the fabric of the towel around your neck before steadily pulling it to one side of your shoulder. “Don’t worry,” the devil reassured both of you, “I am most inclined to help.” With dramatic flair, Raphael disappeared in a quick plume of smoke. 

All eyes but yours turned to Astarion, and Astarion with his on you. It was clear that Raphael’s attitude had rubbed you the wrong way as you blankly stared at the spot he vanished from. “I’ll get back to you on that.” you mumbled. Your damp hair had soaked into the neck of your top. The towel dangled in your balled fist at your hip. The cool breeze sent shivers up your neck before you put the cloth back onto shoulders. After another moment of thinking, you turned around to head to your room. 

“Darling?” Despite it being barely audible, his voice seemed to reach you anyway as he caught your subtle hesitation before decidedly going on your way. 

Karlach and Shadowheart both began to say something but in vain as you were so lost in thought still that you couldn’t hear. They turned their attention to Astarion who intently watched you. “Is something going on between you two?” 

“What?” Astarion snapped his head to Karlach. 

“Sorry.” She snorted. “It could’ve been Raphael but she just seems way more tired than usual.” 

“Well, we are in the Underdark, Karlach.” He said obviously. “It’s dark down here, and I’m sure that the dark makes most normal people tired.” 

“Don’t be rude Astarion.” Shadowheart butt in. “Are you sure that feeding on her every night wouldn’t be a contributing factor along with ‘the dark’?” 

“Haven’t you been healing her up every morning?” 

“I have not. Not since we’ve been down here.” Karlach watched in awe between the stairs and then to two bantering at the bottom. “So, if you’ve been feeding on her still, well... She hasn’t had any of her usual morning chats with me.” Shadowheart finished. 

Karlach watched as Astarion’s eyes round in realization. The guilt grew, pushing his stomach up into his neck. “Oh Fangs, you didn’t know. It’s okay, I think.” 

“Is it, Karlach?” Shadowheart interjected, shooting a venomous glare at the ill looking vampire. “It started with a dagger to her neck, which she forgave. Then she’s understanding of your hunger, even defending you to Gale after you go at her neck again without permission.” 

“That was once- only twice-!” He pushed his finger out to correct her. 

“And all you can do is give half-hearted compliments and bat your eyelashes whenever you need something. A potion, a moment, a warm body to bleed. I mean, have you even said thank you?” 

Karlach put her hand between the two. “Shadowheart, I know you’re worried about her but you know that it’s can’t just one person's fault. It might not be anyone’s fault let alone Astarions.” She waved it up and down. “I think we’re all just tired-.” 

“Don’t act like you’re physically incapable of talking to her yourself!” Astarion retorted above and below Karlach’s hand. “And my attempts to thank her have been pushed aside, thank you very much!” 

“Ever try a full-fledged, verbal ‘thank you for feeding me every night, I appreciate you letting me suck you dry, Darling.’ ever?” She took a deep breath in, and on exhale she let her shoulder drop. 

“Let’s just go up and check on her then.” Karlach successfully cut in. 

Shadowheart reached into a small pouch on her person and thoughtfully brought out the little idol of Shar you gifted her the moment you could dust it off. “Do you know just how much she puts into our group?” Her voice was coated in adoration, and it made Astarion sick. “Or how much she’s already put in?” 

Astarion knew. Of course he knew. He was well aware of how much he took, as well as often as did. But he always knew just when to stop, or at least he thought he knew. But that was before he started to find you in even the smallest corners of his mind, before he found himself keeping an eye on you in battle, before the guilt got harder to swallow. If he pushed your sincerity aside with closed eyes as he held out a beggar's hand, the weight of what you gave him would mean nothing if he didn’t have see what you were left with. 

The strangers, travelers, your kind demeanor and hopeful act. Looking back to the Harper woman that marked your map, he wondered if the Light Inn was going to be enough to keep you going tomorrow. If it was enough for you to spare anything more after, or in the days to come. Gods, was the Harper woman a reflection of him? Where he only loathed her for sinning the same way he did; or for taking what he was saving for later? If anything, Astarion felt like he might as well just be another traveler to you. Someone that followed you around like hungry, dead weight. But he would never have to wonder how far you had carried him and six others, they had the map and markers. But he did wonder just how often he stole your living, breathing warmth. 

Wasn’t that the plan, for him to bleed you dry? Then, now, and hopefully after? 

“I don’t think Astarion would do anything to purposefully weaken her.” Karlach came to his defense. “That wouldn’t make sense, especially now. Besides, she is a big girl and can come to you if she feels like it.” 

Shadowheart shook her head. “You know what? You’re right. And so are you, Astarion.” The little, rock carved goddess dramatically fell to her side alongside her hand as she turned. “Why am I even waiting for her to ask? I’ll be upstairs.” She ran and left Karlach to tend to Astarion. 

“Fangs, you’re looking down, too. Don’t let Shadowheart get to you she’s been…” Karlach gave a sympathetic smile. “You know you can always talk to Mama-K.” Her laugh was aimed at herself as Astarion playfully rolled his eyes. 

The two of them watched the floor before Astarion looked up to her. “Do you think I’ve done it this time?” 

Without a second thought Karlach shook her head enthusiastically. “You might be right about the Underdark. There’s more on her mind than just you and me. Well, in her mind… I should say.” 

“In our minds.” a pathetic laugh bubbled from the nausea. “I think our dark princess would have to agree with that. At least to some extent.” 

Karlach met Astarion’s gaze with another sympathetic smile “I know you care,” she seemingly said out of nowhere. “I’m not the only one who sees it when you look at her. Even if it’s just a little. I think she at least knows that you care about her if Shadowheart doesn’t, ya’ know?” 

Astarion slowly nodded with a confused look before Karlach lead the way to their room. When Shadowheart returned from her check-in with you, she paid no mind to Astarion for the rest of the night. Instead, she went straight to Karlach, and to what his eavesdropping could gather, he safely assumed that he was in the clear. He guessed you really did just need alone time. 

After his vampiric rest, he lied still. Whatever light from outside cast patterns on the ceiling, and he cut them out into little pieces with Shadowheart’s steady breathing and some occasional snoring from Karlach in the background. Then he wondered what you sounded like while you slept. He hated that he didn’t pay attention the one time he could. Did you snore? If you did, were they raspy, hollow breathes or loud snorts that echoed? Maybe you were the restless dreamer where the shuffle of blankets and pillows would tell him you were just about to wake up. 

Astarion found himself wanting to know and shot up before he could want to know more. 

The wood was cool on the bottom of his feet. Without creaking, cracks, or splinters Astarion was able to move quietly out of the room into the hall. Lit candles lined the hallway to your room which felt more meaningful to him than it should have but he shook coincidence away and out of his mind. Instead, Astarion thought about how you pretended not to hear him earlier, he thought back to hands holding flames and he froze, feeling sick at your door. 

I’m hungry, he told himself. I feel sick because I am hungry. 

You sat on the edge of the bed, clearly expecting him with your hair pulled to one side and the right side of your neck exposed. “You’re late.” 

“Only a little, darling.” Astarion made his way over to plant his right knee beside your thigh, his left leg between your own. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.” 

“Hardly.” you whispered to the door behind him. “Besides, I can’t let you go hungry, can I?” 

Astarion decided not to press you. “I suppose not.” He smirked as the breath of his reply sent goosebumps all over your neck and shoulders. 

Tonight, you didn’t close your eyes in anticipation. There was no shiver down your spine or shudder in your breath when Astarion held both of your shoulders while he slowly sunk his teeth in. Hells, you didn’t even whine. It felt like kissing someone who wouldn’t close their eyes or kiss him back. 

Astarion made it quick, hardly getting his fill. As he arose and took a step back to search you up and down for any sign of discomfort. There was nothing out of the ordinary, you paled like usual, especially in your lips, but your expression was unreadable. Visibly there was nothing wrong, but he wanted to listen to your beating heart just to be sure nothing was moving faster or slower than it should. Then without thinking, he suddenly and loosely embraced you in his arms to put his head to your chest. 

“Woah, h-hey.” You jumped back on your elbows, crawling a step back on the bed. 

Astarion’s hands shot up in the air. “I was just,” The look of innocent surprise that coated your body was cute until he remembered why you looked so venerable. He furrowed his brows as he massaged the bridge of his nose, coming off of the bed. “I-I didn’t, or- I don’t mean to insinuate anything, my dear.”  

“Then...” The bed shook under his knee as you relaxed onto your hands, upright but leery. “What were you trying to do?” 

“Nothing, really." He massaged his neck. “Unless-” 

“Unless nothing.” You wildly grinned. “Unless nothing, Astarion. I really mean to have my alone time.” 

“Are you-” Astarion squared his gaze onto the litters of goosebumps on your chest and shoulders while you self-soothingly rubbed your arms. “Are you cold?” His chest tightened once he realized you were suppressing the chatter of your teeth with a trembling jaw. 

“A little.” The movement slowed as you stiffly squeezed your biceps. “Blood loss tends to do that.” 

That’s right, he thought. Astarion of all people, or undead things, should know that the lack of blood meant a lack of warmth. 

“Don’t you look so concerned. That’s not like you.” You coyly laughed. “I’ve been okay before, and I’ll be okay now. I am sitting on top of a completely made bed, you know?” 

Astarion stretched his neck and sighed. “Of course.” He gave you a weak chuckle. “Well, I guess I’ll take my leave then. But if you need a little warming up, you know where to find me.” The rustle of sheets as you climbed under the covers made him scrunch his nose insecurely at the door. “Good night, darling.” 

The following morning, Astarion could found sitting at the chess table, replaying the night before. Not for Raphael but for you. It more so that he was cringing at himself and his lack of control. The way your reacted to his embrace compared to his bite made his head spin with wonder and disappointment. The fact that his teeth breaking your flesh was better received than his concern was astounding. Realizing that if he was going to pull you into him, it was expected that he take and not give. 

Was it that obvious? 

You descended the stairs, the two followed behind, and you were practically glowing. Immediately Astarion felt relieved to know that Shadowheart likely made sure to cast a restoration of some sort today. He sat up a little as you wordlessly greeted him, watching you feel the right side of your neck with your left hand while your self-conscious chuckle furthered his optimism. 

Sigh, last night, “Again, I didn’t-” Astarion started to apologize. 

“Hush.” You made big eyes in reference to the two behind you. “You’re alright in my book.” Sheepishly grinning, you tilted your head and scrunched your nose before heading out. 

As per usual, everyone followed your lead in battle. Successfully you collected the Moonlantern, freed a pixie from inside, and were already thinking about the next move back at camp the morning after. “I think we should scope out Moonrise before meeting with any head honchos.” You said near the empty fire pit at camp. “I’ll do my usual hoarding while we get a good look at the place. And this,” you pointed to a little circle with question mark inside, “I can hardly remember what for, but I think it was marked for some rumored supplies.” You wiggled your fingers in the air with feigned enthusiasm. “I would like this to be priority, actually.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Karlach affirmed. “And I see that good ol’ Gale will be joining us today?” 

“I shall be at your disposal, yes.” He smiled genuinely before it grew sheepish. “Of course, with the hopes that I would not be disposed of.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes.  

“Never, Gale.” You playfully smiled at Astarion. “You’re the last person here I’d do that to” 

“Oh, don’t look at me,” he scoffed but you did, playfully through your lashes. 

“Whatever you say.” You sung before quickly tucking the map away. “But today we’re just scoping, taking, and talking.” 

Everyone nodded, and without another word were off to Moonrise. 

To everyone’s surprise, the guards could not care less about your party going in. The parasite was like a VIP pass inside and the tadpole-less guests praised your every step. It was odd to be so easily trusted and to roam freely. Usually at least one person challenged your worm infected autonomy, but this was a nice yet eerie change. 

But to nobody’s surprise nothing could ever go according to plan. Gale had opened the biggest and most obvious set of doors upon entry and interrupted a meeting between some goblins and Katheric Thorm. To the very left of where Katheric was sat stood Z’rell, the cult advisor that the guards outside said everyone must report to. And again, to not no one’s surprise, the meeting was nothing short of incredibly memorable with a show of immortal strength and the opportunity to sacrifice a small goblin herd at trial. 

Astarion was curious to see what your heroic self would do when the fate of the goblin crews' lives was hurriedly placed in your hands. So, when you had asked them to stop speaking, ‘to not even breathe’, his heart raced with confusion and excitement. 

That’s my girl, he thought. “But by the gods, I hope she’s okay.” 

“Me too.” Karlach swallowed with disappointment. 

Astarion cupped his mouth, not meaning to have said the second half of his thought aloud. 

Karlach looked over to him, “I guess the Underdark really is doing a number on her.” 

“It would seem so.” He kissed his teeth. 

You waved everyone over to follow Z’rell upstairs. A whole new mission got added to the list and Astarion took in this small laugh of disbelief you gave him. In response he tucked in his chin and raised a brow as though to wordlessly ask what exactly had you expected after everything leading up to this. 

The Tower was big, full of locked doors and overly trusting guests that roamed and for a moment there was some pep in your step as soon as you finally got everyone back on track. But once a broken wall produced just under 200 gold and a spell scroll, your disappointment was obvious as you bit your knuckle at the open chest. Without enthusiasm, you drew a little check mark beside the rumored supplies you prioritized this morning. Astarion would normally have something snarky to say but the glowing girl from earlier was having her light put out by her own optimism and he wanted nothing more than to do or say something that could bring back a spark. A pixie, perhaps. But before he could reach out to you, Karlach pushed through a door and on the other side of it was Araj who would come to make things worse.  

The blood lusted alchemist was off to a bad start when she immediately noted Astarion as the ‘Pale Friend’, drawing a more than uninterested look from you as she spoke. “I can make one of a kind potion, just for you, from you.” She modestly smiled. “One prick, a drop of your blood and it’s yours. But I keep the rest for myself.” 

After some curious questions, Astarion was surprised when you held out your hand to be poked. But then thought about how stupid it was to be surprised at that after the night prior. Instantly a potion was produced and carefully placed into your hands. 

“Thank you-” 

“Before you go, there is one other thing I would like to discuss;” she interrupted moved closer to you, but only to get a better look at Astarion. “Your friend.” 

Astarion knew that he stood out in a room to anyone who knew anything about the undead. They could and often did sniff him out wherever he met them. So, when she inquired of his being a Vampire or spawn, he naturally reassured her that as a part of the absolute that everyone serving in Her name was safe in his company.  

“Oh no, I hope for quite the opposite.” Araj watched you expectantly. “I assume he belongs to you?” 

“Belongs?” A distasteful curiosity bled from your voice. “Excuse me, but he’s his own person.” 

She smiled mockingly. “I’m sure he believes that.” 

Distaste was a little soft, you looked and sounded appalled. Actually, to everyone in your corner, your face gave that word another meaning. The drow hardly asked for his name, if anything she flatly commanded it from the wide-eyed Vampire. 

Your finger flew back to shush him, “Astarion” he too quickly answered. “But wait-.” 

“Good.” She smirked. “Now-” 

Your finger made its way around to her before she could continue. “Watch it.” You warned. 

Astarion looked over to Karlach and Gale who were also caught just as off guard as you were. But she paid no mind to your hand as she explained her life-long, born from childhood dream of being bitten by a vampire. She looked too comfortable swooning as she talked about losing her blood in between life and death. “I’ll even give compensation. A potion of legendary power.” Araj bribed. 

Astarion knew where this was going as Araj gave the details of the potion. He knew where he was and knew everyone had just a taste of power these cultists had. He knew that most people would be persuaded with this once in a lifetime offer. Who wouldn’t want guaranteed strength in a bottle? Most people would be, but he hoped that you weren’t most people because was unsure he would say no if you asked him to. He knew he owed you that much. 

The Drow asked Astarion if he would bite her to which he kindly declined. Then she faced you, clearly taken aback. “Well, can’t you do something about him? About your spawn?” Astarion held his breath. 

“He said no.” Relief flooded his body, causing his shoulders to drop despite his fixed posture in surprise. But you were stiff, straightening your neck as disappointment spread across Araj’s face. “What part of that did you not get the first time?” 

“Soldier,” Karlach leaned to your ear. “I think we should get going.”  She nudged your foot with hers. “We’ll be seeing you, Arash.” 

“It’s Araj.” 

“Right, sorry.” Gale apologized on Karlach’s behalf and bowed on the way out. Astarion followed behind him through a door that took everyone back outside. 

Karlach seemed to be calming you down, and until Karlach mentioned it, Astarion didn’t realize that while Araj spoke you began to pet a dagger on your hilt. “We don’t need to get into trouble while we’re still on the Absolute’s ground. Not before we’re ready to be.” 

Surely it wasn’t on his behalf, was it? No could care about anyone that much let alone another Vampire’s Spawn. 

“I should’ve just done it. The doors were closed and who knows? Maybe she had the potion already on her. Or maybe not.” Astarion raised a brow as his stomach sank. “Fucking weirdo.” You muttered. 

“Wow,” Karlach laughed. “Fucking weirdo, I couldn’t agree with you more, Captain.” She ran up as you walked around the tower. 

Astarion blankly watched the back of your head from two people away as you grew quiet and stayed that way. He wanted to know what you were thinking and whether or not you were mad at him for being so unwilling or if your silence was left over from Araj. But there was also nothing planned after scoping out Moonrise, at least nothing anyone mentioned. Everyone settled on blindly following your lead as you spotted a hill with some makeshift graves. 

“Gale,” you stopped suddenly at the foot of an overgrown root. “Can you head back to camp and grab Shadowheart?” 

“Are you sure?” 

You nodded. “I’d really appreciate something warm and hearty when we get back, and I love her but-.” 

“No need, I get it.” Gale smiled, bowed, and waved everyone off. 

Astarion watched Gale leave before he caught you and Karlach now raced to a patch of dirt. When he caught up with you, Karlach was watching out for Shadowheart as you picked through some choice graves. 

“Sweetheart, are you robbing from dead Justiciars?” His shadow hovered over your hands. “Why have her join at all?” 

“I’m sure she might know something about this site. But not a word about my scavenging, please.” With steady hands your swiftly placed the stones back the way they were. 

Astarion’s index finger and thumb drew a line in front of his lips as he sealed them shut and threw away an imaginary key. “My lips are sealed.” 

You snorted and smacked the dirt off your hands before Shadowheart materialized out of thin air, having everything to say about Shar’s faithful fallen soldiers. As she knelt to one of the graves, reverently running her hand across the rocks, Astarion caught sight of a dimly lit entrance. Karlach saw it too and pointed. 

“Maybe we can check it out before we look for supplies in the buildings, we passed by…” her booming voice trailed off when she saw him, then everyone turned. 

Raphael was mumbling to himself at the bottom of some steps at entrance of a cave. As Astarion began to walk only to see you were once again leading the way over. Again, in disguise, the devil gave the details of his deal to the whole group. All they had to do was kill an old enemy of his if Astarion wanted his scars decoded. The deal seemed sweeter than what he expected, simpler, maybe too sweet. But no one was sure what price was to be paid for translation. 

Karlach leaned over to you. “Again, I really don’t know about this.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes before he turned away from the cave. He just missed your response, and how Karlach retorted didn't fill in any blanks. “I don’t want to be tricked into doing that evil fucker's errands for free or find out that this order is for more than any of us can afford fill.” 

“Well, for now,” Shadowheart shot Astarion a raised brow to measure. “I think should head back to camp. I think we could use a moment to relax.” She tilted her head to you with her eyes locked on Astarion. 

You nodded mindlessly. “Yeah, or at least a moment to think” 

Astarion began to open his mouth when Shadowheart chimed in again “Right,” sounding uncharacteristically chipper. “We should plan a little just before heading inside. 

“I’m sorry you came here for nothing-” 

“The graves of Justiciars are not nothing.  Besides, I’m glad you thought to have me, even if it was just for a moment.”  

Shadowheart was good at that. Being soft when you needed it. And Karlach was good at melting you into a giggling mess when she could. Most of the time Astarion could find something obscene enough to say, that pulled you out of your head to laugh. But lately he felt like him just being there was making it impossible for anyone to distract you from yourself. 

You looked pensive the whole walk back to camp. After everything that had happened today from Moonrise, to goblins, to devils, Astarion could not pinpoint if it was one specific thing or everything that weighed heavy on your mind. What he could gather was how drastic the dip in your mood was after Araj, and Raphael. Both of those things happened to be tied to him and he got that funny feeling again. The feeling that he was taking from you without realizing it. That his mere presence was enough to make you bleed. 

Astarion wished he had just said yes to drinking the Araj’s foul-smelling blood. He shouldn’t let you fight his battles and make his deals; he didn’t want you to anymore. Astarion was centuries older than you and yet you were the one holding his hand through the Underdark. Staying up late night after night so he could eat. And he found himself pondering it all too tenderly. 

Scratch and the Owlbear cub zipped past you, hopping around giddily despite the gloomy scenery. Astarion felt a bit pensive himself. You were just as distant as you had been lately but tonight you were especially cold. Sure, you were healthier today than you had been for a while, and nothing seemed to tire you out. But there wasn’t the light and witty banter you spewed so effortlessly that he loved. He missed your observant and borderline judgmental comments on anything you stole from buildings and corpses. Even in Balthazar’s room inside Moonrise Tower, which brimmed with separated limbs and cold jars of blood, you made no snarky comment in correlation to Astarion’s diet. It would’ve have been easy, low hanging fruit by his standards; but at this point he was pulling on the branches for you to reach, you wouldn’t even need to jump. Astarion just wanted you to pick up something, anything really to throw at him. 

“Hey,” You called out, making him unusually hopeful. 

“Yes, darling?” He gave his most honest grin. 

“Do you think we can trust him to keep up his end of the bargain? Raphael, I mean?”  

“I trust a devil over a vampire any day. Besides,” with his hand on his chest, Astarion leaned back. “I think he likes us.” 

How you slowly blinked and nodded flattened his hopes. “It’s your only lead, I suppose...” Scratch and the Owlbear nearly ran into you again, but you didn’t smile, flinch, or notice the animals despite watching them pass you two by. You were millions of miles away from everyone. Millions of miles away from him. 

“Yeah, it is our only lead. My only lead.” Astarion reiterated defensively. 

“I know, I know.” Your eyes screwed shut as you nodded some more. “Maybe we can go to the house of healing in case there’s something on Ketheric. Then after we can go to the cave.” 

“Only after…” What was cause for worry before was now cause for slight agitation. 

“Yes, well, I mean-” You threw your head back and up to the sky like itmight give you a clue. “Or..? Gods, I don’t know.” 

“What don’t you know, sweetheart?” 

“I-I don’t know that either. I don’t know what I don’t know, I guess.” Self soothingly you cupped your face and took a deep breath in. “What I do know is that’s it’s on my list.” You were staring at his neck, struggling to look up any further. 

You sounded unsure of yourself, and while that made him sympathetic, it did more to make him anxious. “I guess I can only hope that it’s high up there. Afterall, this is the first chance I’ve had at deciphering my scars.” Astarion apathetically reminded you, unable to help his tone when he leaned into your ear uncomfortably close. 

“Be a dear and don’t get in my way.” He spat. 

“I won’t?” You turned to him equally defensive. “Don’t you know by now that you can just-” Astarion faced you, practically touching noses but nothing about the tension was romantic once he caught what looked like tears pooling in your eyes. “Y-you should know by that you can just...” 

Karlach glanced over to what she likely saw as two people incredibly close to one another, “Oh, don’t look now but there’s PDA on the campgrounds,” she announced. Wyll let out a dramatic ‘Oo~’ that made her laugh. 

Astarion was horrified inside and unable to think despite having that same snippy look on his face. But once the tears fell, he quickly pulled away, finally softening his demeanor. Karlach eventually looked over at you two when she hadn’t heard any smart mouthed response. 

“You j-just have to ask.” You whimpered between labored breathes. 

Karlach ran to your side before Astarion could think to speak. “What happened?” The concern in her voice caught Gale and Shadowheart’s attention. Gale quietly watched Astarion from a few feet away while Shadowheart raced over to place her hands on your shoulders the moment she arrived. 

Shadowheart did what she did best lately, give dirty looks at Astarion from in the background. She had her head on your shoulder while Karlach tried to get some sort of response out of you. Shadowheart took her turn with her own line of questions when all Karlach could get was a pained look on your face. But there you were in the center of them making him sick again. 

Astarion couldn’t handle himself as you cried. Never in his life had he so quickly regretted saying something to someone, let alone someone he grew so fond of. He felt worse as found himself noting how pretty you looked with tears down you face. All you needed was a break, maybe another night to yourself and right now he would give you all of them if he could help it. But he couldn’t, he never could. Astarion had to be sure that you were still on his side, and that you’d be waiting for him in his corner as though standing up for him in Moonrise Towers wasn’t enough. 

Worry grew as Astarion thought about freedom of choice, and how much time had passed from the Tiefling party. You repeatedly declined his advances to have sex again, but he hadn’t made any significant or particularly tempting advances. In fact, he didn’t want to. Until now, he didn’t think he had to. In-between what he knew and what he wanted, Astarion wasn’t sure he would truly feel better if you just used his body like he needed you to. But if you wanted to, he would let you. It would be fair. It would make everything easier. It was what he thought he deserved. But there you were in front of him, reminding him that all he had to do was ask and it was his. He knew that if he said that aloud you would convince him otherwise, even if you had to do it sobbing. 

That’s exactly how you made everything harder. Without your hands, without a leash, and without control, you had successfully made him care. When exactly that had started, Astarion couldn’t be sure but it was unsettlingly that the feeling crept in without a sound after he was so sure about having his heart set on using you. Maybe it started as selfishly as all things start, where wanting part of someone becomes needing everything else, they were. When being protected meant taking care his protector and being feed meant cleaning up after. Astarion wanted to switch roles to take care of you for once, he just didn’t know how to yet. 

Shadowheart was about to call Gale over when you finally moved to wipe away your tears with the sleeves of your top were pulled over your palms. “Please don’t.” You pleaded with a nervous grin. “It’s nothing.” 

“It is clearly not nothing.” Shadowheart squeezed your arms, her chin bouncing on your shoulder as she spoke. “You know you can talk to me. Or Karlach.” The Tiefling had her hands on her knees, crouching and nodding while Shadowheart spoke. “Or I can go grab La’zael but I don’t actually know what she would do for you. I don’t think she’s ever cried in her life...” 

You let out an estranged laugh at the mention of Lae’zel. Shadowheart and Karlach’s whole demeanor eased up as they laughed with you. Coincidentally, Lae’zel started sharpening a blade which echoed throughout camp and softened the air significantly. Karlach headed to Lae’zel’s tent to have her shut off the wheel, Shadowheart kept her arm around your neck, guiding you behind Karlach. Astarion watched as each breath hiccupped in your shoulders, ignoring Lae’zel’s blunt form of comfort while he left to accompany Gale. 

“You know Astarion,” he slowly stirred the strew from the very bottom of the pot to keep anything from sticking and burning. “She keeps a close eye on you when we’re out.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Astarion couldn't even try to pretend he meant that. 

“I’m not trying to be. As cold as you are, no pun intended, I think most of us can tell she has a keen interest in your wellbeing, and I would suspect that you maybe return the sentiment.” 

“I’ll have you know that not one of those earlier statements is funny or true.” Astarion tried to be coy. “Especially not now.” 

“Deflect all you want my sharp-toothed friend, but I know you do.” Gale poured a bowl for himself, and a second one for Astarion. 

“Don’t sound so sure of yourself.” He eyed the stew. “And Gale that’s just rude.” 

From the corner of his eye, you watched him expectantly, with the same look you had when he drank you up at Light Inn. Shadowheart was shaking her head and rolling her eyes while Lae’zel  spoke. “She doesn’t have to explain anything more. If she wants to sulk right now, let her.” Your Githyanki friend had this way of sounding harsh while looking concerned in her own funny way as she spoke. “Do you need more information to comfort someone you supposedly care for? Are those the teachings of Shar?” 

“You’re one to talk,” Shadowheart huffed. 

You were back and forth, looking between the two while seeming entertained. 

“Astarion, my friend.” Gale held out the bowl to him. “I’m sure you know what I’m doing.” 

He did. “Give me that.” He hissed and swiped your portion of food from Gales hand. 

You watched Shadowheart as she turned to face him. “Astarion.” 

“Shadowheart.”  

“Good evening to you.” She avoided eye contact as she folded her hands. 

Astarion bowed in a gentlemanly manner, tiling his head as he spoke to you. “I come bearing sustenance, my dear.” As you took the warm bowl from his hands Lae’zel tsked, and Karlach gave him a thumbs up despite pursing her lips. 

“I see Gale made stew?” Shadowheart kept curt. 

“I mean, I hope this is stew because if it’s not then I have no idea what she’s about to eat.” Astarion said sarcastically. “Although, in that case it’s better her than me.” 

Astarion couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad sort airy laugh you gave him before you took a bite. But you with a free hand you motioned him to lean in again. You placed the bowl between your lap on the stool to cup his ear with both of your hands. Astarion tried to get a good look at you from the corner of his eye before you left his peripheral. 

“You can feed on me again, if you’d like.” Gods you looked so pretty and venerable. 

“I think…” Astarion thought about your breath and hands on his ear and tried to shake away the thought, “I think we need to talk, later.” 

With the spoon in your mouth, you nodded again. “Okay, later.” You scooped up another bite. 

Shadowheart was about to say something when you put your hand on her arm and shook your head. “I’m good. This is good,” was said so sincerely she didn’t try to fight it. 

Astarion paid no mind to how the others reacted as he turned away to sit in his tent. The night couldn’t drag any slower even if it tried. You had disappeared into your tent after you ate, and so from in his own tent he was left to watch the rest of the weirdos interact and pretend that nothing happened. He stopped listening when Wyll started sharing some heroic tall tale and could only hope that you would still be awake after everyone else had fallen asleep. Truthfully Astarion had no reason to worry, he always found you waiting for him. 

Your lashes were wet as though you just finished crying a second time, or maybe you hadn’t stopped. “You’re early.” You massaged your jaw as you spoke. “Or have I kept you waiting?” 

“You haven’t kept anyone waiting,” he reassured. “And what’s with your jaw?” 

“Just tense.” 

Astarion hummed and squatted onto his ankles. “But you want to feed me anyways.” 

The question caught you off guard. “Yes? Well, if you need to...” 

“Hmm,” Astarion watched the ground. “You know, why do you do that to yourself?” 

“Do what?" He watched as you played with your fingers, squeezing your right hand with your left and had realized that you were studying him. 

“Weren’t you just crying earlier over something I said?” 

“It was more than that.” You caught yourself before you could elaborate and Astarion felt himself growing impatient again. 

“What do you mean more? More how?” 

The tips of your fingers turned white as you continued to squeeze and contort them. “It was just more. Beyond you, and them, and me.” As soon as you looked down at your hands you finally stretched them out in front of you for some relief. “Didn’t you say that you wanted to talk with me?” You pointed to yourself in an awkward attempt to lighten the mood. 

Astarion sucked in his lower lip and sighed. “I did, didn’t I?” 

Astarion stared at you through his lashes as he made his way onto his knees. “My dear, I wanted to talk to you-” A scornful Shadowheart appeared in his head and he winced. “Well. I more wanted to thank you.” 

“Thank me?” Your head shot up from your hands in your lap. “What did I do? You’re being a little mushy on me.” 

“I know, aren’t I full of surprises?” There was a pause as he thought about how to word what he wanted to say next and saw how the silence made you anxious. “But you stood up for me in Moonrise Towers when you didn’t have to, and respected me when I said no. I can’t even remember the last time anyone’s done that for me.” 

“Oh.” You smiled. “Of course.” 

Astarion was unsure of how to explain himself but he wanted to try. “I know I’ve talked about Cazador and the things he made me do. I would use my body to lure in any pretty thing with a pulse and push aside all the disgust that came with it because I had to.” Your hands balled up in your lap. “For a long time, it has felt like that was the only thing I know how to do. Cazador's commands became second nature, his voice still lives in my head. It’s like I forget I’m not under his control. You’ve helped me remember I don’t have to do those awful things anymore.” 

Self-consciously, you hugged yourself at your elbows and took another deep breath in. Your mouth opened to speak but only let all the air out. 

“You can ask me questions.” 

“If it filled you with disgust, if it was awful, then why did you...” You squeezed your eyes shut like you didn’t want to confirm some sinking suspicion. “Why did you sleep with me?” 

Astarion didn’t like your cautious tone. “Why are you asking like that?” 

“No, you just said- why did you sleep with me Astarion?” Your eyes bore into his. “Please just answer.” 

  “I needed you to protect me,” He observed your body as he had been while he spoke. “I needed to ensure you’d never want to leave me.” 

With your palms upright you stared at the space between you two. Astarion waited for you to say something but wasn’t sure what he expected. He didn’t know what he wanted to hear. 

“I hope you know, I would never.” was unexpected, welcome even, but it was not enough to satisfy his guilt. 

“Are you not upset with me?” 

“Do you want me to be?” Your eyes rounded with curiosity. “I just told you that I want you to know I would never leave your side, not willingly I should say.” Your voice trailed off in reflection. “I had never thought to, actually.” 

After centuries of being beaten down, torn apart and stripped of reason, you were just going to tell him that it was, okay? 

Astarion wanted to feel relieved. Astarion wanted to believe you without trembling, without balling his fists over his knees, without something telling him that should know better than to expect understanding. For years he had to get used to knowing that in Cazador's eyes he had always been below forgiveness. Especially the kind that needed no proof of his repentance. 

“What’s wrong?” Your hand fell into view, hovered above his lap and without touching him you guided his chin up so he would face you. 

Once again you were putting yourself aside to comfort him with a face that was drenched in concern. “I feel awful, you know. And you’re making this too easy. I have spent most of our time trying to seduce you, which was easy at first but then you just stopped. You just kept giving without taking which was just what I had hoped for. It was what I wanted- until suddenly it wasn’t.” Astarion shook his head when you nodded in understanding, “You knew it all along, didn’t you?” 

It was maybe a few seconds of silence but it felt like a lifetime while in his self-appointed judgement seat. 

“Not all along.” You looked up thoughtfully, “I didn’t think much of it until you wanted to bed me again." 

“Oh?” His own curiosity spoke cut through the doubt. “What gave me away?” 

“It was when you said,” Astarion winced as you cleared your throat and sat tall to give him a vivid visual of his act. “‘How about I try everyone's favorite? Just three little words? I love you'... Well,” You looked at his lap again, “it’s funny now.” You weakly smiled. Your hands flew over your mouth as your face twisted in embarrassment as Astarions mouth fell slightly open. “I realize that sounds like I wanted you to mean- well no. Yes- wait, no! I-It's not because I,” Your hands fell into your lap before you rolled your head from the ceiling down to him. “The realization hurts, but I guess conformation is worse.” 

Something about you losing your spark flitted across his mind again and without thinking, Astarion leaned in to cup your face tenderly. His cold hands clearly caught you by surprise but you didn’t move away. In his hands he held your swollen bewilderment and kind eyes. He wished he could see what you did in him. “If you’ll let me,” He traced lines over your chin, up to your eyes, the tip of your nose, before he made it back to your gaze. “I would like to have the chance to give you something real.” 

A warm smile in-between repose and disbelief made him weak. Another moment of silence passed as your eyes mapped out his expression. “Oh, shit,” you said with a slow falling simper that made your bottom lip tremble. “You mean that, don’t you...” 

“I do.” He whispered tenderly as his thumb moved to still the shake. “But only if you’ll let me.” 

You closed your eyes and let your head complete relax in his hands. Astarion took this as an opportunity to lift you closed to his face while your brows knitted together in anticipation. Slowly, he placed a kiss on your chin, your left cheek, then your right, before bringing your forehead to his lips. Your hands latched around his wrists as you pressed your head into his right hand. “Does this not bother you-?” 

“Not one bit.” He mirrored you. “But on that note, I think I need more time for intimacy. Or, maybe I don’t want that at all anymore. After everything.” His eyes dropped to your chin. 

“I can wait,” You reassured. “Whether or not that’s in vain. I don’t mind; we don’t have to have sex.” 

Astarion could feel his whole face open as he straightened his posture, and yours. His usual wit and charm were coming back to him. “Well, we’ll see if that proves to be a challenge.” 

You rolled your eyes and were about to pull away when his fingers pressed into your face to keep you still. “Yes?” 

All he could see were your lips, “May I?” 

Astarion was already moving in before you closed the distance. With your lips on his, his hand on the back of your neck, while another cradled your jaw, the only thing he could think about was just how warm you were, how soft and alive you felt on his mouth. But even in his hold he felt like he needed to chase you. You were being too gentle for his taste, too safe on his lips. Astarion was sure you could feel his growing hunger as his hand snaked to the base of your head to hold you by your hair, guiding each kiss with his neck before you finally opened your mouth, inviting him in. 

Still, it wasn’t enough. 

Astarion stood on his knees, not once letting you back away for air as he craned his neck to deepen a kiss that nearly pushed you onto your back. A drawn-out, reverberated whine melted in his ears as you pushed into his waist. But when you let go of him to support yourself, Astarion dragged his teeth on your bottom lip with a final peck before breaking away. You were panting as he sat back on the floor, smiling in his hold as his fingers were still tangled in your hair. Astarion pulled you into his arms, guiding you head into his shoulder before he drew circles on your back. As your heaving slowed, he pressed you flush against his chest like he’ll lose you if he couldn’t feel your heart against his own. “I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t be.” You held him just as tight and that seemed to finally satisfy him. 

“Thank you, my love.” 

Astarion nearly purred when you pecked his neck. “Don’t mention it.” 

© 2024 chimimon

[hxzbinwrites]

So excited for the new blog! Can you please do some headcanons of Vox and imp! Partner in a cute soulmates AU?? Out of all places for Vox to meet his soulmate at last, it’d be in hell of all places! And his imp partner is super adorable and sweet and kinda polar opposite from him. At first he’s in denial but over time he starts falling in love anyway <<333

Vox x Imp! Soulmate! Gn! Reader | Savior |

(I didn’t know what gender you wanted (Y/n) to be, so I just went ahead and put gn! I hope that’s okay!)

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Violence, Classism, Imp racism

Vox sat down at his “desk” of sorts. Glancing at his various monitors over the lip of his coffee mug. His bored expression evident on his face. Voxtech was doing great, a little too great. Nothing needed fixed, reprogrammed, or anything. Not even that little radio demon was active in his business today. Just plain nothing.

Val was busy doing whatever freakish things he does and Velette was prepping for her next fashion show next week, so there’s nothing he can do with them. He’s burnt practically every bridge with all of the other Overlords, so it’s not like he can go prancing up to them asking for a play date, all he can do is just sit here, in boredom, and watch screens flicker by. Watching all of these other sinners revel in his technology, unknowingly being watch by a extremely bored Vox.

He sighed, setting down his coffee mug as he stood up to stretch, placing a hand on his lower back before someone, or something, jerked his hand in another direction.

His screen glitched in aggravation, who the hell dare tug him. He isn’t a rag doll, he’s an Overlord. He’s THE VEE, He’s VOX.

With his electronic brows furrowed, he whips his head around to see no one in sight, before looking down at a bright red string coiled around his wrist, tugging him towards his elevator.

His eyes widen in shock, a soulmate string?? He didn’t have a soulmate. Not when he was alive, not when he fell into Hell, not…until now apparently.

‘I have nothing better to do I suppose’ He thought, walking towards his elevator.

————

Wondering around the Pride Ring was something most Imps didn’t do. The Pride Ring was for sinners, not for Imps. Well, (Y/n) certainly didn’t care. They walked about, with their head high and their tail swishing behind them. Well, until they got jerked in the other direction.

“The hell?” They muttered, looking at the string coiled around their wrist. This can’t be, (Y/n) didn’t have a soulmate. Haven’t had one ever, and probably wasn’t supposed to. Chalked it up to bad luck.

‘Good thing I listened to my gut to come to the Pride Ring. Alright soulmate, I hope you’re worth the trouble….and a piece of eye candy.’

They marched ahead, ignoring glances from sinners as they walked towards some of the more taller buildings.

Looking up, they saw in the far distance a huge tower, adorned with three V’s, all with their respective colors. Their heart fluttered, indicating that was where their soulmate resided. The string pulled once more in that direction before (Y/n) began to walk once more, following it.

They walked what seemed like forever, about halfway from the point they saw the tower to the tower, before something pulled on the opposite wrist.

“You little Imp.” A man said,”What do you think you’re doing up here? You don’t belong with sinner-kind, go back down there to the Wrath Ring where you belong, rodent.”

(Y/n) was shoved against the wall, face pressed against the cold brick of an alleyway. Their heart was racing, what if they died before they could ever meet their soulmate?!

They looked down, seeing their string begin to flash between red and white, alerting their soulmate that (Y/n) was in danger.

‘Please’ They thought,’Please help me my soulmate.’

————

Vox was strolling along the streets of Hell, briskly walking towards whenever the string may take him. People fled the scene from where he walked, too scared to come face to face with an Overlord.

Still, no sign of his soulmate. Irritated that they weren’t close, he sighed, rolling his eyes before he felt a pull, not a tug. He almost fell to the ground, stumbling before regaining his balance. Glitching in annoyance, he looked at his string, flashing in colors. Signaling something.

He had a gut feeling, something in his very core alerting him as well as the string. Wrong. Something is terribly, awfully wrong.

He broke out into a full sprint, shoving anyone out of the way who didn’t move fast enough for his urgent pace. He stopped near an alleyway, seeing a sinner press a poor imp against the wall. The imp was quivering in fear, until they locked eyes with Vox. The string disappeared, and he felt…whole. Completed. He didn’t even realize he was missing a piece of himself until he found it. But an…imp? He’s with an imp. Him, and overlord, with a hellspawn? It can’t be possible. It shouldn’t be possible.

While internally he was having these thoughts, he acted on pure instinct and without even thinking he took the sinner’s head and smashed it into the brick wall, with a force so hard he created an indent in the brick itself and the sinner’s body fell to the ground.

Without exchanging a word, he lifted the smaller Imp into his arms, found the nearest Voxtech device and teleported through it, bringing him and his newfound soulmate back to his office.

“Who are you? Are you supposed to be my soulmate?” He sneered in disbelief, but stopped speaking whenever the Imp dove in to hug him. His heart rate sped up and his screen started glitching.

“Yeah…” They said,”thank you for saving me. I…I didn’t think I had a soulmate. What’s your name, sir?”

“Vox” He replied,” and yours?”

“(Y/n). I don’t know how you sinners live up here in the Pride Ring, it’s very scary.” They nervously chuckled,”I guess the soulmate string can’t find the other if you’re stuck in different rings.”

“Yeah” He said,”that makes a lot of sense. I want to ask you something, (Y/n). Why did that sinner attack you?”

“Ah, well he said it was because I’m an imp and that I need to return back to the Wrath Ring where I belong….” They said, looking at the floor.

Vox’s clawed fingers gently lifted their chin, locking eyes with the imp. His face seething with anger. His screen was glitching. Looking at his poor soulmate, with tears glistening in their eyes. Oh, these sinner’s who think like that are gonna PAY. He thought back on his earlier thoughts a few moments ago. Who really cares if they’re an imp. This imp is as sweet as can be, perfection incarnate if you will. But this…shoving them into the wall purely based on the fact that they’re an imp. This has to stop. He’s seen the light, his other half. He knows what must be home. His face starts glitching in anger, seething in the rage that someone hurt his precious love.

“If you’ll excuse me, my love, I n-n-need to make a f-few broadcastsss.” Vox said, his glitching making his voice stutter.

He snapped his fingers, making one of his various workers bring a comfy chair over for (Y/n) while he went to go sit at his desk.

He was no longer bored today, no, he had a mission. A mission to protect his precious soulmate at all costs.

————

Word Count: 1159

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Sauron’s Masterplan in Season 2

What could be Sauron’s intentions into shapeshifting into Elrond in 2x07? For the tent scene with Adar, and the following scene with the Orc and the horse. Context here.

First things first, him kissing Galadriel is a minor detail in all of this. Forget about the kiss, or the romantic subtext (shipping), and let’s concentrate on Sauron's masterplan. 

Celebrimbor 

Sauron, obviously, needs him to make his “rings of power” masterplan a reality. No doubts here.

Concerning Adar

Sauron planned the whole battle of Eregion, and he “planted the seeds” for it into Adar’s mind in 2x01. Because he wants Adar to assemble a huge army for him to take at the end (which is what happens in 2x08), and become Lord of Mordor. He also wants to take his revenge on Adar, while he’s at it.

Sauron’s plans for Galadriel

He also wants Galadriel at Eregion, as Elrond tells us in 2x02, and in the same episode Sauron sends her a vision of Celebrimbor in danger. I don’t think this had anything to do with Nenya, actually; it was Sauron’s doing to "plant the seeds" of her travelling to Eregion.

When Galadriel, Elrond & co are on their way to Eregion, Sauron controls the path they need to take (he destroys a bridge using lightning for them not to go that way). There are two others paths (both who are being watched by Sauron, as Elrond says).

Elrond: What other paths might we take? Camnir: To circumvent it, we shall either have to turn due north, adding two weeks to our journey... Elrond: Or? Camnir: We go south, through the Hills of Tyrn Gorthad. Which will get us to Eregion much faster. 

Elrond chooses to go south, to the Barrow-downs, where they will encounter the Barrow-wights who killed the Lindon soldiers carrying the message that Halbrand is Sauron. Galadriel advises against this, influenced by Nenya, and says that’s the road Sauron wants them to take, so they need to go north. Elrond, however, dismisses her warning.

But is it, really the path Sauron wants them to take? Because he wants Galadriel alive at the end of all of this, why would he want her to fall into a trap? One of the Barrow-wights even manages to take Galadriel, until Elrond saves her. 

Sauron wants Adar’s army at Eregion, and he needs Celebrimbor to forge the rings of power in the meantime. So, Galadriel arriving “faster” at Eregion wasn’t, probably, his idea, at all. Sauron, most likely, wanted her to take the longest road, and arrive after the rings of power were completed, and he had control over Adar’s army. 

Why? Because he wants Nenya, yes, but he also wants to bind himself to her, and harvest her "light" for himself, and keep Morgoth’s bounds at bay. This has been one of his goals ever since Season 1. And Tolkien tells us, in his letters, that Sauron still has good intentions as Annatar, and truly wants to rebuild and heal Middle-earth from Morgoth’s corruption.

Galadriel being taken captive by Adar wasn’t in his plans, either (which explains his reaction to “the body” in 2x06). And he grows impatient and restless once Adar’s armies show up at Eregion, also adding to the fact that Celebrimbor hasn’t finish the rings of power, yet. And he’s starting to “lose it”, as we saw in 2x07. Which isn't like him, at all.

Sauron's powers 

Sauron is a mastermind, a control freak, and a micro-manager villain who plans everything up front and is always ten steps ahead of every other character. He does have an insane amount of powers, but he doesn’t have the "gift of foresight"; he can’t see the future. And, so, he doesn’t know how things will actually turn out when he plants the seeds into other beings’ minds.  

And so, he needs to take matters into his own hands, every now and again. With Celebrimbor, he crafts a gigantic illusion to keep him locked at the forge tower for him to finish the rings of power, while the siege of Eregion begins. With Galadriel, he destroys a bridge to prevent her and her company from going that way.

Meanwhile, Celebrimbor discovers the truth, but Sauron still needs him to finish the Nine. Now, the Elven army arrives, and Adar wants to negotiate with Elrond, by luring him with Galadriel on a cage. We see Sauron looking at this scene from Eregion walls, while Celebrimbor is being taken away back to the forge tower by soldiers. But we, the audience, aren’t shown anything else from the mastermind behind this whole thing.  

“Eye of Sauron” is, among other things, exceptional eyesight. He can see everything (this power is not a “giant eye ball on the top of a tower” like in the Peter Jackson adaptation).

However, Saruman in “Fellowship of the Ring” does give a good description of the "Eye": "the lord of Mordor sees all. His gaze pierces cloud, shadow, earth, and flesh. You know of what I speak, Gandalf: a great Eye, lidless, wreathed in flame."

Sauron [...] a sorcerer of dreadful power, master of shadows and of phantoms, foul in wisdom, cruel in strength, misshaping what he touched, twisting what he ruled, lord of werewolves; his dominion was torment.  The Silmarillion

There’s a shadow above the two armies, while the Elven army is charging at a portion of the Orc army (because the Orcs are already attacking the walls, and trying to tear them down to infiltrate the city). Sauron is a master of shadows; who can weaponize and control them (and he does this several times in the legendarium), and he “shadow walks”: he uses shadow as a means of teleportation (and that’s how he was able to travel so fast from Eregion to Khazad-dûm to ask for more mithril).

Could Sauron pull this off? Could he conceal Adar and the Orc army from sight, right in front of Elrond's nose? Absolutely. One of his set of powers is world manipulation; Sauron can manipulate reality and the weather at will, and he can trick several characters at the same time. We already saw him doing this in Season 2. Once you understand this, all is fair game.

Why does Elrond stop charging, then? For any other reason other than Adar being in front of him, really.

Elrond meeting with Adar

Now, why would Sauron want to stop Adar and Elrond from meeting? It’s only because of Galadriel and to set her free? No. Because that's the least of his problems.

First of all, Sauron doesn’t know what Adar and Elrond will discuss in this meeting:

Sauron is aware Adar seeks a truce between Orcs and Elves; what guarantee does he have Adar won’t propose this and Elrond won’t accept?

What guarantee does Sauron have Elrond won’t make an alliance with Adar? Elrond could very well surrender Nenya to test Adar’s theory (Morgoth’s crown + Nenya to destroy Sauron);

Elrond and Adar could reach an agreement in stopping the attack on Eregion.

All of this would mean the ruin of Sauron’s masterplan. Not because Eregion wouldn’t get destroyed, but because, if Elrond was to side with Adar, even if temporarily, they would be able to enter Eregion without bloodshed and stop Celebrimbor from forging the Nine rings of power.

Because this is what Adar proposed to Galadriel in 2x06:

Adar: It is said the Three Elven Rings saved your kind from fading. Is it true?If it is, then perhaps together, this crown and your Rings would be powerful enough to truly destroy Sauron forever. The Deceiver believes he is still beyond my grasp. But I know he hides in Eregion. And I suspect you know for certain… Halbrand is Sauron. Isn’t he? The fate of that city now rests on your ability to put aside your pride. I suggest you find the will to do so. If you can.

Which Galadriel eventually accepts, later on:

Galadriel: As we speak, Elrond hastens from Lindon with an army of Elves. And Nenya, my Ring […] Once he arrives, he will seal off the city, loose Celebrimbor from Sauron’s grasp, and then together, Uruk, you and I will eradicate all trace of Sauron from this world. Never to return. Adar: And what then? Galadriel: Any Rings that have known his touch must be destroyed. Adar: I meant, what then for the Uruk? Will your High King permit us to return home in peace? Or will he proceed with his plans to invade Mordor?

And Sauron is aware of all of this. Would he risk Elrond and Adar meeting and reach an hypothetical agreement? And pretty much obliterate his entire masterplan? Because his plan is at risk if these two characters were to meet.

Then, Sauron also needs the two armies to fight outside of the city walls to gain himself more time, for Celebrimbor to finish the Nine. But he can't have the Dwarves joining in, and influences King Durin (via his ring of power) not to send aid. Sauron doesn’t want the walls to be breached just yet. Not until the Nine are complete.

All of this means that, from Sauron POV, Adar and Elrond can’t possibly meet nor make any sort of negotiations. And he has to do something about it. The logical conclusion is: Sauron shapeshifts into Elrond and goes to meet with Adar himself, to make sure his masterplan doesn't get wrecked.

And that's what happens in the "tent scene" in 2x07: there is no negotiation, the battle still goes on as planned, and he even manages to "plant the seeds" of discord among Orcs and Adar, for his next move in 2x08 (take the Orc army for himself). And he provides Galadriel with a means to escape, because he needs her, too.

Then we have this shot right here, after the tent scene, and while "Elrond" is leaving the Orc camp. Is this really Sauron or an illusion he crafted for Celebrimbor, to make him think he's right there, but he isn't? Because Sauron has the power to do this.

And that explains why the have this off-screen narrator, of showing Elrond leaving the Orc camp:

And so, he goes on to make sure the battle is to proceed, himself. Because Sauron wants the two armies to fight each other, instead of the Orc army to be focused on tearing down Eregion walls.  

Interestingly enough, this is exactly what “Elrond” tells Vorohil before sending him off to Khazad-dûm: Ride to them now. Meantime, I will ensure that Eregion's walls hold for one more night.

Which can, also, explain what Sauron is doing at the beginning of this scene: he has his eyes closed, as if he’s performing some sort of magic, but Celebrimbor is right there, working on the Nine, and so whatever Sauron is doing here is not meant for him.

We saw him performing something like this before, both in 2x06:

And when he meets Galadriel at the top of the hill in 2x08, he smiles. Because everything turned out in his favor, at the end. Adar is dead, the Orc armies are his, and Galadriel is there, to hand him over the rings of power, and to bind herself to him. I would even argue that Sauron knew and wanted Celebrimbor to give the Nine to Galadriel.

“Only blood can bind” (Adar; 2x05) 

And Galadriel is about to join him, until Nenya influences her otherwise, and she jumps off the cliff, to escape the situation. Which wasn’t in Sauron’s plans, either. And he realizes one of the rings of power resisted him. Him, their master and creator (he believed). And so, he needs to do something about it, too, in Season 3. Create a master-ring to control the lesser rings of power:

[abybweisse]

Having watched ep11 now, I like the extended scenes, like at the optical shop.

I'm also happy they left in the parts about Agni unintentionally helping Soma at Weston (Soma isn't as strong/durable as he thinks he is), Tower Bridge's construction timeline (in universe), and Undertaker's lockets (Claudia's and the others' death certificates). I still believe Tower Bridge is very important in regard to why the Phantomhive family was attacked... and I'm a devout believer in Claudiataker being canon.

And a teaser for the green witch arc, too!

[sylusonychinus]

Episode 15 – The Trap

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The bustling energy of the airport terminal buzzed around Caleb as he stepped off the jet bridge, rolling his shoulders after another long-haul flight. He had barely taken a few steps when a familiar voice called out to him.

“Caleb.”

His brows furrowed as he turned and saw Liana standing near the gate, arms crossed, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against her elbow.

He resisted the urge to sigh.

“What do you want, Liana?” His tone was firm, already bracing himself for whatever nonsense she was about to spew.

She took a step forward, lowering her voice. “I want to talk. Privately.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow, glancing around the busy terminal. “Whatever you have to say, you can say it here.”

Liana scowled. “Are you serious?”

“Completely.” Caleb crossed his arms. “I’m not interested in sneaking off to have some secret conversation with you, Liana. Whatever you need to say, say it now.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, clearly annoyed that he wasn’t playing along. But she quickly smoothed her expression and tilted her head, feigning innocence.

“…Why her?”

Caleb’s jaw clenched. “What?”

“Why did you choose her over me?” Liana’s voice was laced with frustration, her eyes glinting with something bitter. “What does she have that I don’t? I mean—come on, Caleb, we all know she was always the lesser one in our family. She’s weak, too nice, too—”

Caleb’s expression darkened, his patience snapping. “Stop talking about her like that.”

Liana blinked, momentarily startled by the venom in his voice.

Caleb took a step forward, towering over her. “I don’t care what you think. I don’t care about your pathetic attempts to make yourself feel superior. And I definitely don’t care about whatever twisted competition you have in your head.” His voice was cold, sharp. “Reader is ten times the person you will ever be.”

Liana’s fists clenched at her sides, but before she could say another word—

She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Caleb.

He stiffened in shock. “What the hell—”

Click.

Across the gate, hidden between pillars, Marissa smirked as she snapped a picture.

Everything was falling into place.

Liana clung to Caleb for a moment longer, pressing her face against his chest, knowing full well how it would look to anyone watching. Then, she pulled away, plastering on a fake, heartbroken look before murmuring, “I just don’t get why it couldn’t have been me.”

Caleb scowled and took a step back, putting space between them. “Because I never wanted you.”

Liana’s eye twitched, but before she could respond, he was already walking past her, not sparing her another glance.

As he disappeared into the terminal, Liana turned on her heel and walked toward Marissa, who was still holding up her phone.

Marissa grinned. “Oh, these are perfect.” She scrolled through the pictures, stopping at the one where Liana was in Caleb’s arms. “This one especially. This is going to shake things up.”

Liana smirked, her earlier frustration melting into satisfaction. “Good. Now let’s send it to Reader.”

Marissa giggled as she tapped on her phone, attaching the images to a message. “I wonder how she’ll react.”

Liana flipped her hair, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Hopefully, she’ll finally realize that she’s not the one Caleb should be with.”

With a press of a button, the message was sent.

And the trap was set.

Extra Scene The soft hum of jazz music played in the background of a dimly lit café. The place was nearly empty, save for a few scattered customers too lost in their own conversations to notice the tension brewing in the farthest booth. Marissa sat with her legs crossed, one perfectly manicured nail tapping against her cup of coffee as she studied the man sitting across from her. He had an air of quiet confidence, his sharp gaze focused on the photo she had just slid over.

“So?” Marissa asked, a smirk playing on her lips. “Are you in?”

The man remained silent for a moment, picking up the glossy photograph between his fingers. The image was perfectly framed—Caleb and Liana appearing far closer than they actually were, an embrace that could easily be mistaken for something more. His thumb hovered over the image, his gaze darkening ever so slightly.

“Convincing,” he finally said, his tone unreadable.

Marissa leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “It’s all about the right angles,” she mused. “With your help, we can make sure she sees exactly what we want her to see.”

The man didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he set the photo down carefully, as if considering all the ways this plan could unfold.

Marissa watched him intently, her patience unwavering. She knew she had picked the right person for this job. He was calculating, patient, and most importantly—he had something to gain.

Still, he wasn’t the type to be easily swayed.

After a few seconds, he met her gaze. “And what exactly do I get in return?”

A slow smile stretched across Marissa’s lips. She reached into her handbag, pulling out a sealed envelope and sliding it across the table. Her fingers barely grazed his as he took it.

“I know what you want,” she murmured.

He stared at the envelope for a second before flipping it open just enough to peek inside. Whatever was in there made his expression shift, if only slightly.

Marissa chuckled, sitting back against the booth. “Help us, and I’ll make sure you get her.”

The man let out a quiet breath through his nose, as if weighing the options one last time.

Then, after a long pause, he tucked the envelope into his coat pocket and met Marissa’s gaze once more.

“I’m in.”

Taglist: @jinwoosbabyboo @kithyyy @mcdepressed290 @nezuswritingdesk @elegantdeerlady @yuuuumii @duhgurl @lumieresdreams @bidisasterforevermore @i-messed-up-big-time

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[cookingmamatwo-dinnerwithfriends]

chocolate frog terrarium || theodore nott x reader

a/n: WARNING: ur a HUFFLEPUFF GIRL and now you have made-up siblings lol the chocolate frog thing was something i thought of a while ago and i think it’s funny. and i played hogwarts legacy so i have to reference it <3

to say that theodore was nervous about the date was an understatement. he was overwrought and maybe even querulous (thank you thesaurus.com). he didn't know what to wear and he was worried that his hair looked stupid. eventually he decided he looked as good as he was going to and left to meet (y/n) in the bell tower courtyard.

when he made it outside he saw her waiting by the fountain. she was conjuring three little yellow canaries, a spell they had recently learned in mcgonagall's class. when she saw him walking towards her she waved her wand and all of the birds disappeared.

"theo, you made it!" she walked towards him, grinning widely.

"you didn't think i'd show?" he pretends to be offended. "i see you've mastered the avis charm?" he watches as a few yellow feathers fall to the ground at her feet.

"truly i was worried you and malfoy were having me on..." she trailed off before quickly pivoting to a brighter topic. "are you ready to go?"

"yeah let's get going," he offers his arm and she takes it, looping hers through his.

they make small talk as they walk across the rickety bridge and all the way to hogsmeade, talking about everything from potions class to what they think harry potter will manage to do before this year is up. they also make a brief pitstop at the puffskein den on the way to the village ("they're so cute, let's just look at them for a second!").

"where do you want to go first?" theo asked as the both of them entered the wizard village.

"honeyduke's," (y/n) answered immediately.

"that was quick," theo teased her, but still led them to the candy store.

as they walk around together theo watches as she examines almost everything in the store.

"what's your favorite thing in here?" she asks him while still perusing the shelves.

he thinks for a minute before answering, "probably...every-flavor beans."

"are you a sociopath or something?" she asked with mock-seriousness. "i can't eat those. ever since i got a dragon dung flavored bean." she shivered at the memory.

he laughed loudly, "i've never got one like that...what's your favorite?"

she picks up a chocolate frog and holds it up to theo, suddenly laughing lightly at something.

"you know i come from a muggle family, right?" she asked, tilting her head at him. he nodded, so she continued. "i bought one of these for my brother one time, and when it jumped out he thought it was a real frog, so he set up a little habitat for it and kept it as a pet."

"how long did it stick around?" theo asked, genuinely curious as he had never left a chocolate frog open and uneaten for longer than five minutes.

"a day, then it melted under the heat lamp," she chuckled, putting the chocolate frog back. "i wish you could have seen his face when he found his brand new pet frog melted in his tank."

"i've always wondered how muggles would react to all of these different candies," theo said, imagining the scene of a boy finding his new pet as a melted chocolate blob.

"don't get me started on my sister," she rolled her eyes before continuing, "she tries to talk to the cards. she has a crush on her gilderoy lockhart card."

"so you've exposed your muggle family to the wizarding world as well?" he asked.

"yes," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "i think it would be rather selfish to keep all of this to myself."

"did your parents freak out when they found out?"

"oh yes, my mom nearly lost it when i made a worm grow to, like, double its size."

"i would too, that sounds vile," he scrunched his nose up at the thought of a fat fucking earthworm.

(y/n) grabs two chocolate frogs and a box of fizzing whizbees before going to the counter to pay. before she could even get her coin purse open, theo had already given the cashier enough money to cover it.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she frowned.

“i wanted to impress you,” he shrugged.

she rolled her eyes before offering him one of the frogs. they both opened them, caught them, and began eating them.

“what card did you get?” she asked, peering over his shoulder to see.

“fig,” he said unenthusiastically. “i have like eight of him already. who did you get?”

“ooh! i got mcgonagall! i don’t have her yet!” she said excitedly, pocketing the card. “i don’t have fig though….”

she side-eyed him in hopes that he would hand over the card. which he did. he didn’t need a ninth eleazar fig.

they started their walk back to the castle shortly after this. shyly brushing hands until theo made the move to fully hold her hand. he walked her down to the hufflepuff common room where he found himself sad to part ways.

“i had a really nice time today theo…” (y/n) said shyly, looking down at her feet. “we should do this again sometime.”

“yeah definitely! i had a great time too,” he smiled down at her softly.

he was wracking his brain, trying to think of something NORMAL to say, when she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“goodnight theo,” she smiled softly and went into her common room.

he smiled as he turned around to walk to the dungeons. when he made it to his dorm, malfoy and mattheo (yep he’s here IM SORRY) were waiting for him.

“how’d it go mate?” mattheo asked, smirking at theo.

“it was really great,” theo answered earnestly, too giddy to say something cool and nonchalant.

“that’s just adorable,” malfoy cooed at him.

“shut up…” theo rubbed the back of neck, before plotting with the boys on how to ask (y/n) out again.

[darksigns-exe]

be my angel | three - september 1991

warnings: swearing

word count: 3.6k

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist sign-up

Standing in front of the Bell Tower, Teddie suddenly feels awfully nervous. She hasn’t spent a lot of time with Nick alone and now that she thinks about it more, asking him to help with the photos feels like a dumb idea. Nick had been the one who had brought it up – asking about how and where she gets her films developed. And now – a few days later – Teddie isn’t so sure what had convinced her to tell him to join her in the darkroom if he wanted to.

She can’t quite see into the bar, but she can hear the music they’re playing. It’s loud and harsh, and Ted feels a little overwhelmed with it. She gives herself another moment, before she makes her way inside. The sound hits her like a brick wall, and she has to reorient herself before she feels good enough to really enter the bar. She can’t immediately spot Nick, and she stands idly in the middle of the bar for a good minute. Ted considers her options, but before she can decide on a course of action, Nick emerges from a door behind the bar. 

“You’re early.” he states blankly, setting down the tray of clean glasses he’d been carrying. 

“It’s four.” Ted offers, suddenly unsure if that was actually the time they had agreed on. 

His face falls a little when he rushes to check the watch on his wrist. The quiet swear that falls from him almost disappears under the still thundering music. 

“Give me five minutes. Sit, do you want something to drink?” the words come uncharacteristically rushed. 

Nick tosses a small back of chips her way before he vanishes into the back of the bar once again. 

Teddie feels like a child waiting for her parent. She doesn’t belong here and without Nick - or Noah - to ground her in this place, she feels more and more like an intruder with every minute that passes. But the bag of chips sustains her until Nick returns, stuffing a set of keys into the front pocket of his jeans. 

“Alright,” Nick announces as he comes to stand in front of her, “Lead the way.” 

Her fear that the walk would be quiet and uncomfortable seems to be unfounded. Nick is surprisingly easy to make conversation with, even without Noah being present to bridge the gap between them. And while it’s light and surface-level, Ted learns a few new things about him. Nick also grants her a few more entries on the seemingly never-ending list of music she wants to catch up on. Contrary to Noah, he doesn’t make a big scene when she doesn’t recognise a title he tells her about. Not that Noah's upset was ever meant seriously, but sometimes his antics do get to her. 

By the time they reach the building that houses the photo studio and dark room, Ted’s list has grown by a good few items. And while she isn’t entirely sure what Nick is gaining from this, she can’t deny that she is at least a little excited to spend more time with him. 

Nick walks a few steps behind her when they enter the building, and Ted can’t decide if it’s because he doesn’t know where he’s going or because he too feels a little out of place. She leads him up the winding stairs of the stairwell that’ll take them to the darkroom quickest. 

“Are you here a lot?” Nick asks as they make another turn through the unchanging hallways. 

“Not that often. The drawing rooms are in a different building, I only come here for the dark room and the printer.” Ted explains. 

Nick asks about what she actually studies, claiming that Noah hadn’t really made a lot of sense. Teddie can’t exactly blame him because she knows that Noah is prone to jumbling facts around, and who really knows what Noah actually told him. 

Through a little bit of sweet-talking, she had managed to convince the guy who usually hands out the keys to the non-photography students to let her keep one of the keys, allowing her to come and go whenever she pleased. Teddie doesn’t like that she can charm her way around people like that, but with how easily some people placed stones in her way, it’s only fair that she also plays the game. 

Nick quietly follows her into the antechamber. He remains by the door while she takes off her jacket and tosses it over one of the chairs. 

“You can leave anything you don’t need in here. The door doesn’t open from the outside.” she explains, pulling her hair out of her face with the little red and white plaid seersucker hair tie her mother had made for her some months before she had left. 

Nick shrugs off his denim jacket, hanging it over the back of the same chair hers is lying on. 

“Anything I need to know?”

“Room has to stay dark, or your photos are gone. Don’t touch anything and don’t taste anything? Noah tried to dip his finger into the fixer one time when I took him. I would not recommend that.”

From the way Nick shakes his head, she gathers that he isn’t exactly surprised. 

“Got it.” he replies, still quietly laughing to himself. 

Nick follows her into the actual dark room.

She goes about her usual preparations, getting all of the solutions and developers out of the shelves. Nick looks a little out of place, but putting him to work is turning out to be a little trickier than she had expected. 

“Can you get the scales? Should be in the cupboard on the right.” she points vaguely towards where they should be. 

After a little rummaging, Nick places the digital scales on the workbench next to her. 

“Do you have to measure all of this?” She nods, “Ratios need to be right or else we’ll end up with something indistinguishable. And you only really get one shot with this.” 

Teddie doesn’t know how much Nick actually cares about any of this, but she explains the process anyway. Noah’s disinterest had been much more obvious. 

“The longest part is the drying. I have three rolls, but it shouldn’t take much longer than an hour or so – clean up included.” “I thought this would take at least half a day.” Nick sounds a little surprised, “But then again, I don’t know anything about this.” 

Ted gives a chuckle in reply.

Nick hovers behind her while she continues to prepare the rolls of him. She manages to sneak a glance at him. In the harsh red light, his features look much more exaggerated. Ted briefly wonders if he’d let her take more pictures. 

The actual developing goes smoothly. Nick hovers a little, but she hadn’t expected anything else from him. He’d come to help and there wasn’t a whole lot he could do except hanging lengths of film up to dry while Teddie continues to work on the next batch. At least he’s more helpful than Noah had been the last time she’d brought him. Working with Nick like this feels surprisingly easy. It’s almost as if they’ve done this a thousand times already. He asks a few clarifying questions, but for the most part, he seems to have figured out what she needs him to do fairly quickly. And while they work in silence for the most part, Ted does enjoy the brief exchanges they have. 

“How long have you been here now?” Nick asks after a while. 

“Little over a year.”

Ted just sees him shaking his head as he laughs, “I could have sworn that Noah said you just moved here.”

“Feels a little like it.” Ted admits quietly, “I haven’t really felt like I’ve arrived here before I moved in with him.” 

“Where did you live before?” 

“Dorm. The people I lived with were new too, and it was all a little – sedentary. I think living with Noah has been good for me. I get out a lot more.”

He gives a knowing nod in response, “Noah’s good for that. That boy knows just about everyone that you need to know. He’s a little – oblivious, I guess – sometimes, but he means well.” 

Ted hands him the last section of film to hang up. She thinks that she knows what Nick means. Noah has an interesting way of thinking about finances sometimes. She’s sure that he doesn’t make enough at the record store to finance the place they live in. Even with the additional money she brings in, it should be impossible to for them to afford the loft. The portion Ted gives to the rent cannot be large enough to cover the rest.

“It’s hard to hide that you come from money when most of the people you hang out with have at some point questioned how they’ll buy groceries.” Nick finally adds, “He’s trying, but sometimes it’s just very obvious that he’s never really had to worry about a thing.”

The way Nick talks about him makes it sound as if Ted should be aware of Noah’s upbringing. But whenever they’d talked about their families so far, he had been quick to dismiss the conversation. Noah had told her more than once that his relationship with his family just wasn’t good, and Teddie had never thought to dig much deeper. 

“Where did you say you’re from again?” Nick asks then, as he hands her one of the bowls they’d used. 

“Place called Brevard. North Carolina.” 

“You’re a long way from home, huh? How’d you end up here?”

And so Ted tells him about how she’d always seen New York on the TV and thought that it was the best place for an artist to go. Another girl from her street had gone to New York to become a writer, and when she’d come back she’d told them all how great it had been there. 

Nick’s amused look tells her that he’s heard this tale a thousand times before. 

“I thought that the best place for a guy who wants to be in a band was the Bay, so I get it.” There's an awfully sentimental – and almost sad – look on his face then, “Sometimes it works out, and sometimes you have to crawl back home with your tail tucked between your legs.”

Ted wonders if she should dig deeper, but with Nick, it’s always so hard to know. She watches as his front teeth dig into his lip for a moment. 

“But you like what you’re doing here? Fine arts.” 

The little accent he puts on makes Teddie laugh out loud. 

“I do. It’s nice.”

Nick fixes her with a curious look, but ultimately doesn’t push further. 

It does feel a little like a lie. 

It’s not like Ted doesn’t enjoy the program she is in right now, but she also can’t deny that she loves taking pictures. Swapping programs just like that feels a little daunting, though. She’s never been one to just give up on something, just because it feels a little tricky at the moment. 

“When will you know if you’ve won this contest?” Ted asks, instead of dwelling on the matter for much longer. 

“End of October.” Nick replies, “We have a friend who’s getting the zine for us before it officially releases, so we should know before the end of the day on the 31st.”

“Have you played over there before?”

Nick shakes his head, “We’ve been around the states a few times, but that’s it. It’s been a little slow.”

“So what I’m hearing is no pressure at all.” 

Nick laughs in response, shaking his head. 

“Whatever happens, happens. If we win that’ll be great and if we don’t – at least a few more people will know about us.”

“Assuming you win, what happens then?” 

“Ideally, we figure out a way to get to Europe, play a bunch of festivals, make some money and new fans, see some new things.” he explains, “Don’t get me wrong. The album is selling so much better than expected, but Europe would change everything. I didn’t think that we’d sell more than a hundred units at all, and now they’ve told us that we might have the bestselling debut on that label. I don’t even want to think about how many more it could be if things go ideal with this contest and the festival.”

Nick looks as if the excitement about this all is bubbling just beneath the surface of his skin, but he’s not quite allowing himself to feel it properly. She can see the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corners of his lips, but it never becomes more, and Ted wonders if he doesn’t show it because he doesn’t know her well enough or if he actually won’t allow himself to be excited about this. Judging from how reserved he usually is, she’s inclined to believe that the latter is true. 

The tomato shaped timer rings. 

The blaring noise of it tears through the momentary silence that had spread between them. 

Ted quickly moves towards where they’d hung up the strips of film, to check if the first ones had already dried. 

She picks one of the dried strips up, holding it up in front of her face. She brings the strip over to the enlarger, sliding it under the lens. Ted fiddles with dials for a moment. And once the image has cleared up, and she’s faced with the test image she’d taken of Noah just before they had left or the show, she steps away from the device again.

“Do you want to have a look?” 

Nick steps forward, mimicking what Ted had done a moment ago. Ted starts to move the film toward showing the remaining photos on this strip. He remains stoically silent the entire time, almost making Ted believe that he doesn’t like a single one of the pictures.

When she’s reached the end of the strip, Nick steps away from the enlarger again. 

“Ted.” he says after a long moment of silence, “I don’t know what to say.” 

Ted wrings her hands together, nervously awaiting Nick’s judgement. Somehow, this more nerve-wracking than she had expected. She understands now how much actually rides on these pictures, and she really does not want to be the thing that ruins their chances at winning this contest. 

“If the rest are anything like this, we’re practically in Europe already.” 

And this time she sees a little bit more of a smile on his face. 

“I’m sorry that we doubted you like that.” he sounds so very sincere in his apology, “These are incredible, Ted. I think we stand a real chance now.” 

They have made a preliminary choice to take back to the rest of the band. Nick understandably doesn’t want to make this decision on his own.

Ted thinks that the batch that they’ve marked for printing is really good. She’s proud of how the pictures have turned out, especially considering that she’d never taken pictures of a concert before that. And hearing how impressed Nick had been with the pictures had lifted her mood even further. 

“Have you ever thought about doing this? Like full-time?” Nick asks as they’re putting their jackets back on, “I know a couple of people that could need a photographer – and they’d probably be able to pay you in real money and not store credit for a Blockbuster and stale sandwiches.” 

“I don’t know, Nick.” 

“I mean it. Half of the pictures in magazines look the same, but you could add a breath of fresh air. Show some old dudes how it’s supposed to be done.” 

The trace of excitement in his voice is almost infectious. 

Ted can’t deny that she had thought about it before, but her parents had always insisted that she needed stability. She had seen first-hand what could happen if someone loses their job. During the brief period when her father had been out of work in 1985, they had only managed to come by because her mother had decided to work again. Fortunately, they’d only had a few months when things had looked truly dire, but other families in the community hadn’t been that lucky. 

The experience had left her with a lingering fear, though. 

And now that she is living somewhat on her own, she doesn’t want to risk losing the little bit of income she has. Crawling back home because she can’t afford to live here anymore sounds like the last thing she wants. Just the idea of having to admit defeat to her brothers is enough to make her want to stay in her lane. 

“How about this, next time you come around the Bell Tower I’ll introduce you to a couple of people. And if you feel like you can, you do the show. No one says that you have to jump into the deep end of the pool and go full-time immediately. I’ve been in bands for years, and I still have to take multiple jobs in between tours to keep myself over water.”

Ted tries to find a fault in his reasoning, but his logic seems sound. 

By the time they’re back at the apartment, Ted as agreed to his offer. 

If Nick was willing to extend her grace and trust with something as important as these pictures, she should be able to do the same. 

Ted hadn’t realised just how much time they’d spent in the darkroom until they step back out onto the street. The sun is already significantly lower in the sky. 

Their conversation continues on the way home, and while Ted still feels as if he’s holding her at an arm’s length, she thinks that she’s starting to get a little bit of a better picture of who Nick is. 

The route he shows her back to the apartment is quite a bit shorter than the one she’s been taking so far, and Ted tries her best to memorise it.  

They’re greeted by music and laughter as the elevator door slides open. Ted unlocks the grate, letting them into the main space of the apartment. The music is too old to be something Noah has picked, so she assumes that Jesse has come home with him after work. Ted doesn’t mind it at all. Jesse feels like a little piece of home in this big city. 

“There you are.” Noah exclaims as he exits his room, “I was starting to get a little worried.” 

“Just a little?” Nick asks as he throws his jacket over the back of the sofa. 

“Between you two, you’d be fine.” he shrugs, “You’re just in time, though. I guilted Jesse into cooking.”

Ted hangs her jacket up on the little rack next to their door, before she does the same with Nick’s. 

“What’s he making?” she asks, as she toes off her shoes. 

“You’ll have to ask him. All he said is that you’d be happy about it.” Noah replies. 

Nick shakes his head, and Ted is sure that Jesse had told him what he’d be making. It wouldn’t be the first time that Noah just stopped listening to a conversation. 

Ted pushes past him into the kitchen. 

As soon as the smell hits her, she finds herself back in her grandmas' kitchen. 

“Chicken and dumplings. Thought you could use a little bit of home.” Jesse says, without turning away from the stove, “I know I did.”

Ted comes to stand next to him, trying to get a peak into the pot.

“You’re an angel.”

She can’t stop herself from wrapping Jesse up in the tightest hug. Jesse gives a chuckle in return. He pats her back softly. 

“Almost done. You wanna get some plates out?” 

Maybe she’d tried a little too hard to remove herself from home in the attempt to feel less homesick. But even after being here for a little over a year, she still feels herself longing for the comfort of her mother's kitchen. 

The conversation around the table is comfortable. Noah’s account of the guy who tried to scam them with counterfeit Queen tapes makes all of them laugh — Nick included. 

Once dinner is cleaned up, and Noah is done complaining that he had to help with the dishes, the four of them reconvene in the living room. Before Ted even has the time to say something, Noah is digging through her bag for the photos. 

Ted is glad that Nick convinced her to get all of the pictures printed instead of just the ones they’d use for the contest. Getting this moment of looking back at that night together makes her feel a little more grounded in the group. When she’d taken the pictures, she was fully convinced that Nick would never speak more than a few words to her. 

“If you don’t take this one, I’m throwing you out. Both of you.” Noah argues, waving a close-up of Nick in Ted’s face, “I’m not saying that this is the best one, but – Jesse, help me out here.” 

“I’m staying out of this debate —”

The conversation quickly escalates into a half-hearted argument with Noah and Ted on one side and Nick on the other, who is adamant that he doesn’t want to be the face of the band. Nick doesn’t yield though, but at the end of the day, Ted knows that she can always just slip the picture into the batch when he’s not looking. 

From their they eventually turn to lighter topics and Ted allows herself to sink into the background for a moment. 

She watches them talk and laugh and joke, and maybe it’s then that she realise that she feels as if she’s a part of this group. 

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

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@rumoured-whispers @cheyyyyr @mathfairchild1 @thewrstinme @Follow-me-down-to-wonderland

[imagineaspen]

Below the cut are a couple of scenes (including my take on the 'show of fealty' memory) that are tentatively for the BOTW/TOTK fic that I may or may not ever finish. Also for the zelgan server weekly prompt: First Meeting

Though in this case, it's more like two first meetings (kind of?)

Zelda woke in her bedroom, light streaming in through the windows.  She groaned, rolling over away from the light.  She did not want to be awake yet.  She wanted to sleep forever, so she did not have to think about her failures, or the deaths of her friends, or Calamity Ganon.

Wait – Calamity Ganon?

She sat up in her bed, frowning.  She was in her bedroom; that was certain.  Fully intact, no destruction in sight.  How? Had it not been real?  Her heart leapt – were her friends still alive?  Was Link safe?

Quickly she jumped from her bed and ran to her bedroom window, throwing open the curtains.  She saw Castle Town below her, buildings standing strong.  The cathedral towered over the surrounding homes and businesses.  The guards barracks was also visible from her window, with spears and shields lined up against its outer wall, as though the knights were about to begin their training.  No, she thought.  That was destroyed.  I saw it.

She ran from her room, down the pristine castle hallways, all intact.  And all empty.  Normally Hyrule Castle was a busy place, full of servants or other staff, or people come to meet Zelda’s father.  Now Zelda did not see anyone.

“Father!” she cried.  “Are you there?” 

Her voice reverberated around the corners, echoing.  There was no response. 

“Link!” she tried.

Soon she reached the castle’s main doors, intent on exiting to see Castle Town herself.  She still had not seen a single soul within the castle walls.   She braced herself, then pushed against the door.

It did not move.  She pushed again, putting her entire body weight against the door, to no avail.  Quickly she gave up, heart racing.  There were more ways out of the castle – she would go through one of those instead.  She took off yet again.

She tried the door by the kitchens, where produce and other ingredients were delivered.  Closed tight.

She tried the door leading down to the docks.  It would not budge.

The bridge! She would return to her room and climb down from the bridge connecting her bedroom to her study.   She took off yet again, not thinking about how she would climb down the side of the castle, or how the door leading to that bridge would likely also be barred, or how she had yet to see any other person in the castle.  She needed to get out; she felt like the walls had been steadily closing in on her ever since she had woken.

She was breathing heavily by the time she reached her room.  The door was wide open – had she left it like that?  She couldn’t remember.  Suddenly uneasy, she slowed her pace, then froze as she beheld her room interior.  For there was a figure standing at her window.  A figure who seemed to have malice growing over their dark skin, like scales.  Whose hair was a brighter red than any Zelda had ever seen, as though composed of flame.  Who had horns emerging from their head, visible even from behind.  And who was now beginning to turn around.

The figure – the monster, the man, the demon; Zelda did not know – looked at her, his glowing amber eyes widening a fraction. 

“Zelda,” he breathed. 

Then he lunged for her.

She was petrified in her shock, and before she could understand what was happening, he was in front of her and she was crushed against him.   “Zelda,” he murmured fervently into her hair.  “Zelda…  I have missed you.”  He inhaled deeply.  “I told myself that when I saw you again…  but I cannot stay angry with you, dear one...”

Zelda, her mind finally catching up to what was happening, looked down to her side to the arm tight around her, sleeved with malice. 

“Zelda,” the demon said, voice light as though attempting to tease.  “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten this appearance.”

He leaned back and she saw again that horrible face, the glowing eyes and the pointed horns growing from his forehead.  He brought one large hand up to gently touch her face; the fingers ended in claws.

Zelda screamed.

She thrashed and shoved against his chest, and in his startled state, she was able to pull herself from his grasp.  The moment she was free she fled from the room.

She heard him call her name, which only propelled her faster through the hallways.  Was he following?  She could not hear him, but did not dare look back.  She ran until her legs felt like they would give out from under her, and ran a bit further.  Then, when she could go no further, she ducked through the nearest door – into a guest chamber for emissaries to the castle – and collapsed into a corner of the room, shaking.     

What was that?  Some kind of monster, some kind of demon?  He knew her name.  How did he know her name?

As she sat huddled on the floor, taking deep breath after deep breath, she started to relax for the first time since she had woken in her bed in the empty castle.  And she became aware of her own body.  For her real body, she realized, was not currently in a bedroom in Hyrule Castle.  It was in the sanctum, entwined with the storm that was Calamity Ganon.

This… isn’t real?  She was inside the seal she had created.  

Then what was real was her confrontation with the calamity.  And Urbosa, Daruk, Revali, Mipha, her father… they were all dead.  Link was dying.  She had known that it was too good to be true; the thought that she had woken up in a restored castle and found that everything was all a bad dream.

She cried anyway.  

And, she thought, if she was sealed with the calamity, then that monster…

Urbosa always said that Gerudo legends claimed Calamity Ganon was a man.

Urbosa was wrong. 

That had not been a man.  That had been something much worse.   

***

The doors to the throne room swung open, and it took all of Zelda’s willpower to keep her feet planted beside Rauru as she saw the man that entered.  He was not the monster that she remembered – did not have claws, or horns, or hair as bright as fire – but she knew who he was. 

She had spent one hundred years alone with this man.  She would know him always.

Ganon.  She wanted to run to him, to throw herself into his arms, to hold him again and to breathe him in.  Her legs trembled.  She had grieved him, had spent the past several years feeling like a part of herself had died with him.  And now he was here.

He walked to stand before Rauru and Sonia’s thrones, flanked on both sides by Gerudo women, eyes trained on Rauru the entire time that he entered.  For a moment there was nothing but a thick silence as he and Rauru stared at each other.  

Then, to Zelda’s surprise, he knelt, the Gerudo at his sides following.  

“I must extend my deepest apologies to you, King Rauru,” he said, his voice nearly driving Zelda to tears; the same voice that she used to hear every day, and that she still heard in her dreams.  “For ignoring your… repeated invitations.”       

Rauru narrowed his eyes.  “You apologize for ignoring invitations, Ganondorf?” he said.  “And not for the Molduga at my borders?”

Ganondorf let out a soft laugh.  “My apologies,” he said.  “I merely wanted to test the strength of this Hyrule Kingdom, before I agreed to serve.”

“To serve,” Rauru repeated.

“Yes, my king,” Ganondorf said, eyes still trained on the floor.  “On behalf of the Gerudo people, it would be an honour to be accepted into the protective embrace of your kingdom.”

The words were polite, but Zelda knew this man more intimately than anyone she had ever known, knew the dangerous quiet in his voice and the tension in his stance and the glint in his eyes when he finally raised his head to look at Rauru again.  Ganondorf was furious.

And he was lying.

“Likewise, Ganondorf,” said Rauru, “It would be an honour to have a man such as yourself join our fletching kingdom.  The sole Gerudo male, hero to his people and king by birth, if I am not mistaken.”

“That is correct,” said Ganondorf. 

“Your appeal is accepted,” Rauru said.  “You may rise, Ganondorf.”

A muscle twitched in Ganondorf’s mouth, but he obeyed, getting to his feet.  Around others, he seemed even taller than what Zelda remembered, taller even than Rauru.

“We will need to discuss the terms of your surrender,” Rauru continued.  “I invite you and your compatriots to stay in Hyrule Castle and receive all of the hospitality my country has to offer.”

“You are generous, my king,” Ganondorf replied, smiling humourlessly.

“Then my family and I invite you to Hyrule, Ganondorf.”  He gestured to the throne at his side.  “My wife, Sonia."

Ganondorf gave a curt nod.  “My queen.”   

“And my niece,” Rauru said.  “Zelda.”

Ganondorf’s eyes went to her for the first time since he had entered the room.  His eyes met hers briefly.

Then slid away, bored and without recognition.

He did not know her.

“I don’t see the resemblance.”

Rauru chuckled. “My niece through marriage, obviously,” he said. “She is Queen Sonia’s niece, come to Castle Town to witness the establishment of this great kingdom.”

“Of course,” said Ganondorf.  “That will certainly be… enlightening for you, Lady Zelda.”

Zelda fought to keep her voice steady as she responded, “Thank you, King Ganondorf.”

Ganondorf glanced at her again, lips curling into a slight smirk. Rauru cleared his throat.

“I will have a construct show you to your rooms, Ganondorf.”

Ganondorf nodded slowly.  “Even in my country, we have heard of the wonders of Zonai technology,” he said.  “I look forward to experiencing it myself.”

“Indeed,” said Rauru.  “And once you have joined our kingdom, the Gerudo will benefit from our knowledge, of course.”  He stood.  “Here’s to a great peace between us, Ganondorf.”

Ganondorf’s eyes flashed.  “To peace,” he said softly, then turned and exited the room, the Gerudo following him.  Zelda’s mind raced as she watched him leave.

He did not know her.   And yet there was no doubt in her mind that this was the same entity as the calamity, the man who had inexplicably known her so deeply he had secrets about her that she had never told a single soul.  She brought a hand to clutch at the stone around her neck, that had brought her to this time.

Ganondorf.  King of the Gerudo.  She had never learned his real name.  He had told her very little about his past; she was not sure if he had been able to remember it.  He had said once that the calamity was only a part of him, that his true self was something else.  She thought to that mummy under the castle, who had held the stone that had sent her here.

Was this how they had met?  And more importantly…  was this how she could save him?

She was torn from her thoughts by Sonia, who had moved to Zelda’s side (she had not even noticed), and squeezed her shoulder.

“That man is horrible,” she said, clearly mistaking whatever was on Zelda’s face for fear.  “But do not worry about him, Zelda.  Rauru will handle him.”

“I’m not worried, I just…” Zelda paused, wondering how much to say. “Something about him is familiar to me,” she said finally.  Not quite a lie.  But not the truth, either.

Sonia shook her head.  “I cannot understand why the Gerudo would want to follow such a violent man.”

“All the Gerudo understand is violence,” Rauru said.  “You cannot blame them for it, dear; it is in their nature.”

Zelda frowned.  “I have known two great Gerudo Chiefs in my life,” she said.  “And violent is the last word I’d use to describe either of them.”

Rauru looked at her.  A faint smile came to his face.  “Well, that is proof then, isn’t it?  They will be better off once they are under the banner of Hyrule, with a king and queen who model peace.”

Zelda opened her mouth, then thought better of it.  She had to remember that no matter how kind Rauru and Sonia were to her, no matter how much Sonia felt like the mother she had never known, and Rauru the father she wished she had had, she did not know them.  Not really.

Still, even though their conversation – indeed, the entire meeting – had made her deeply uneasy, there was another emotion emerging in her heart, growing as she thought again of the sight of Ganondorf walking through the throne room doors. For the first time since she had arrived in this distant past, perhaps even the first time since being freed from the Calamity, she had begun to feel a sense of hope.

[inkedinfusions]

𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 | geto suguru chapter 3

⊱𖤓⊰ | In which you, a thief, meet the lost prince of the kingdom.

── ★ ˙ ̟ . ⚜️ .ᐟ.ᐟ masterlist

⊰–prev next–⊱

𝟎𝟑 | 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞

chapter word count: 3.5k

content warnings: normal warnings for the tangled movie lol

a/n: Only two chapters left after this one! Fun fact about this fic, I watched the Tangled movie easily like ten times in between rewinding the scenes and just me procrastinating writing but still wanting to feel productive.  

Thanks for reading!

“𝐎𝐎𝐔, 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓,” you say when the light of the lantern illuminates a skeleton pinned to the side of the tunnel.

“That’d be you if they left you hanging there,” Suguru jokes, only smiling wider when you turn to glare at him.

“Not funny.”

“It is a little,” he presses, chuckling when you turn away to avoid showing the grin that worms its way to your face. “So, Starlight, where did you come from?”

“Classified information, sorry princess” you immediately say. “I’d ask the same, but I don’t think you have an answer other than your tower.”

“You’d be correct.”

“And I’m not supposed to mention the hair, or the mother, or the frog.” You nod along with Suguru, who confirms each thing you won’t find out, only ever saying something different about his lizard.

“It's a chameleon, actually,” he corrects. 

“Uh actually—shut up, nerd,” you tease. “But changing the topic—if seeing the lanterns is like, your life’s desire or something, why haven’t you gone before?”

“That's because… well…” he says, trailing off when stray rocks fall from the ceiling above you. 

“Starlight—?” Suguru begins, tensing when a familiar neigh breaks the silence, light suddenly flooding the tunnel. 

“Oh shit,” you say when the guards appear from the corner, making the tunnel jostle. “Run!”

You both sprint through the tunnels until you come to the exit. But it is too soon to cry for victory, as there is only a ledge and a broken bridge greeting you on the other side. There are two tunnels below, but one gets crossed off your list when Jogo and Mahito—the Curses—burst through it. How the hell did they find you? You question when they glare up at you.

“Who’s that?” Suguru asks.

“They don’t like me,” you say, cursing your rotten luck. 

“Who’s that?” he repeats when the guards appear, surrounding you.

“They don’t like me either,” you answer. 

Then, to top it all off, the horse with a personal vendetta against you gallops out of the tunnel. 

“Who’s—” Suguru starts. 

“Let’s just assume nobody here likes me,” you retort, searching for alternative routes.

“Here,” he says, handing you his pan. 

You almost drop it, caught off guard, and you can only watch as he throws his hair like a rope, accomplishing getting it to wrap around one of the abandoned wooden structures the miners once relied on. 

“Hey—!” you shout at Suguru when he jumps, although your worry is short-lived as he swings in the air and safely lands on another platform of dirt below. Well, that's another way to solve the dilemma of escaping. 

You have no such tricks up your sleeve, so your eyes dart around the cliffs, rivers and abandoned tunnels, trying to piece together a plan, anything. The captain and the guards approach, swords at hand, and you have no choice but to swing the kitchen saucepan you had been left with. 

You clumsily attack the guards back, somehow managing to strike the captain straight in the face, knocking him out cold. The other three follow, each taken down by the weirdest weapon you’ve ever wielded. A hit to the side of the head, to the back of it, up their chin. And just like that, all four men lay to your feet. 

Their swords and armor clang as they hit the ground, and you allow yourself a moment to breathe, looking at the saucepan with appreciation. 

“Next thing I’m buying is definitely one of these,” you say with a grin, throwing it up in the air and catching it as it falls. “Maybe he’ll let me keep it—Whoa!”

You barely dodge a blade that is aimed at your chest, and a quick glance tells you that the horse with the gold colored eyes is responsible for your almost impalation. 

“What the hell—” you huff as you parry, getting dangerously close to the edge, “—is your problem?”

In an unfortunate set of events, the horse manages to send your weapon flinging down, pointing his own at your neck while you put your arms up in defeat. First the lizard—chameleon, rings Suguru’s voice—, and now the horse. Animals had to have something against you, this was getting ridiculous. 

“Another chance?” you ask the horse with a nervous smile, when a strand of black hair wraps itself around your hand. 

“Hang on!” you hear Suguru yell. 

You look at him, then at the horse with a triumphant grin. You salute him as you are pulled away, soaring through the air like a free bird. Not quite free yet, of course, but close enough to it you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. 

So you’re swinging now, to freedom—and oh shit, also directly at the Curses. 

“Careful!” you hear Suguru yell, like it's not something that should be obvious. Still, you narrowly avoid getting stabbed by their blades, somehow moving your body out of the way.

“Aha!” you shout, delirious with adrenaline. “You should see your stupid—!”

A sharp thud interrupts you just as your brain registers pain. Groggily, you try to make sense of the situation, your hands and legs thrown to your front with the momentum. Your torso, however, was stopped by an exposed beam, stealing all the breath on your lungs. 

That's not the end of it, because why would it be? You climb the aqueduct you landed on, taking note of the situation once more. The universe is clearly against you today, more so than it has been all your life.

“Come on!” you yell at Suguru when the horse starts kicking a beam, managing to form a makeshift bridge between them and Suguru. You grab his hair with all your might when he jumps, only just succeeding by the skin of your teeth. Jogo and Mahito start to run after him and you follow, sliding down the wooden pipeline like butter on warm toast. 

You jump off it when the beams that hold it up start to fail, tucking and rolling when you fall. You help Suguru with his enormous amount of hair—you really should do something about it, this can't be convenient—and start running towards the mine the Curses didn’t come out from. Foolish mistake on your part, but you won’t know this until much later. 

The Curses aren’t the only thing you have to run away from, because a resounding boom alerts you of the dam’s failing. Wood and nails fly away as it breaks, and water swallows everything and everyone on its path, even taking down a massive pillar of rock, which is set to fall right on top of Suguru and you. 

Miraculously, you step into the tunnel just as the pillar touches the ground, even grabbing the stray saucepan at the last moment. Your relief is once again short lived when water starts to fill the tunnel, and that is when the second bad news comes in; it's not actually a tunnel—or rather it was, but has since been blocked away by rocks. 

You frantically start to push the rocks blocking the way, hitting some with the pan when your efforts become clearly futile. Suguru, bless his heart, dives underwater to see if there are any loose rocks there. He comes back up as agitated as you, only pausing from his struggles when you hiss. 

Scarlet blood oozes out of your hand when a particularly sharp rock interrupts your search. You curse—now is not the time to get needlessly injured, and a look at Suguru’s helpless eyes as water begins to reach your shoulders tells you everything you need to know. 

You follow his example by diving too, but the lack of light makes it difficult to even see your hands in front of you, so you come back up, gasping for air. Suguru attempts to do it again, but you pull him back up before he can drown. Maybe you're only delaying the inevitable, but you’ll be damned if you let him die first. 

“There’s no point to it,” you say, as desperate as him. “It’s pitch black down there, I doubt even Satoru would be able to see.”

He stops flailing around, looking around with resignation. You look down at the murky water and sigh. Death by drowning was lame as hell. You always thought you’d go out in a cooler way, not trapped in a tunnel with no escape, where your body would probably never be found.

“...Who’s Satoru?” Suguru asks, his soft voice breaking the silence. 

“Who’s…?” you ask, dazed, before his words register in your mind. “Oh. The guy back at the tavern. That’s his name. Six Eyes is just an alias.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

He twitches. 

“I’m so, so, sorry about all of this,” Suguru apologizes, looking at you with his defeated, purple eyes. “Mother was right. I never should’ve done this.”

“It’s not like I’ve been nice all the way through. Maybe if I hadn’t hurried us into the tavern, none of this would've happened.”

It's clear that Suguru wants to argue against you, but falls silent at the look in your eyes. 

“Y/n,” you say after a beat.

“Y/n?”

“Y/n L/n. Starlight is, believe it or not, also just an alias.”

“Never would have guessed,” Suguru says, attempting to break the atmosphere with a joke. You respond with a weak smile, appreciating his effort. 

“I have magic hair that glows when I sing,” Suguru says immediately after. You do a double take, looking for any signs that he might be messing with you when his eyes widen in realization and he repeats, “I have magic hair that glows when I sing!”

Before you can ask him what he means, he begins to mumble something about a flower and shine, and to your utter surprise, his hair starts to light up. One thing is the way the sun hit his hair, turning threads of it golden. Now though, it is as if it’s completely made of gold, the light it emits being enough to illuminate the tunnel. 

You both inhale a deep breath when the water completely fills up the place, but thanks to Suguru’s magical, golden hair, you manage to find a loose rock. It's a chain reaction; with one rock out of the wall the rest follow, releasing you both into a nearby stream. You gasp for air as you grip the edge of the river, flabbergasted. 

“We are alive!” Suguru celebrates, jumping out of the stream at the first opportunity. 

“His hair glows when he sings,” is your reaction, dumbfounding and reality breaking. 

As you are having your well deserved breakdown, Suguru stands at a rock on the edge of the river, pulling out his hair from the flow of water. “Y/n!” he calls out, but you don’t answer, too busy with ranting at his lizard, who also got carried away by the same stream. 

“His hair glows when he sings,” you repeat to it, watching as he looks at you with a no duh expression. Are you losing your mind?

“Y/n-”

“Why does his hair glow?” you ask the small animal, frantic.

“Y/N!”

“What?” you snap back at Suguru.

“It doesn’t just glow,” he clarifies, a knowing smirk on his face. The chameleon sports an identical smile, a strange expression to see on a small creature. 

“Why is it looking at me like that?” you ask, agitated, totally nonchalant, not even bothered by it.

The sound of crackling wood fills the echo of the woods, accompanied by the song of crickets and the rustle of the leaves. Smoke rises up above, joining its whiter, fluffier cousins, the clouds, in the sky. You’re sitting next to Suguru on a log next to the fire, warming up after your daring escape. 

The stars light up the sky, aided by the bright moon, and with the help of the fire, the darkness of the woods is not so eerie. That is also not the slightest bit hindered by the fact that you’ve got company, and that said company apparently has magic hair, capable of lighting up even the darkest of situations. 

Suguru’s soft hands cradle your own calloused, injured one, wrapping a lock of ebony hair around it until it runs out. You want to question him, maybe look for the logistics of his god-like power, but you chose to stay silent, not wanting to disrupt the fragile peace you had achieved. 

But once a chatterbox, always a chatterbox, so you open your mouth anyway and begin spewing out whatever random crap you can think of. 

“This is totally not suspicious and I'm totally not freaking out right now,” you start. “Just another normal evening, with a normal person, with normal hair that glows. Mundane day.”

Suguru chuckles, losing focus for a moment and wrapping the hair too tightly against your wound, which you reward with a hiss. “Sorry,” he grumbles under his breath. “It’s been a strange day for me too.”

“You’re telling me you don’t usually get chased down by guards, found by old enemies and trapped inside a cave filled with water? Shocker.”

He smiles, looking down at your covered palm. “Just don’t… don’t freak out on me,” he says. 

You nod, already freaking out internally. But you make efforts not to show it, so you guess that must count for something. Suguru closes his eyes and starts reciting what you think he said at the cave earlier, the one with the flower and glow and shine, only this time it is a longer verse, and you watch fascinated as his hair lights up once again. 

It goes from ebony to golden in mere seconds, small strands of light flowing through it as though it is made of pure sun rays. He could tell you his hair was made by the sun itself and you would believe him, too blinded by its light to think otherwise. 

His verse ends moments after the strand in your palm lights up, sending a tingling sensation through it. You think maybe it's your imagination, but you can see it has fully healed by the time Suguru removes his hair from it. 

“Oh thats—” you clear your throat, “—that’s… nice, uh—”

“Don’t freak out?” he asks, sheepish. 

“I’m not!” you say with the biggest, fakest smile you can muster. “Why, are you? No, no, I’m so calm right now. Uh, by the way, since when have you done that? Or your hair—when has your hair done that…” you mumble, straightening up when you remember something from the morning. “Is that why you asked me what I wanted with your hair earlier? Does your mother know about this?”

“She’s the only other who knows, I think,” he answers, bringing a hand to his nape. “I mean, other than the ones that cut it when I was a baby.”

He pulls away a shorter strand at the base of his neck, showing it off to you. It stops past his shoulders, still long but no longer radiant the way his ebony hair is. Instead, it reminds you of ink as dark as a void or a moonless night, still beautiful but—

Beautiful?

“And that’s why I never left. Mother said it was too dangerous to even attempt, that the ruffians who cut it were still out there, somewhere,” Suguru continues, snapping you out of your second freak out. 

“Do you want to go back? After this, I mean.”

“I—Well—” Suguru sighs. “It's complicated.”

“...I get that.”

“Mhm. So,” he says, his eyes crinkling with the teasing smile that begins to appear, “Y/n L/n?”

You shrug. “It’s just my name. None of that ‘Starlight’ that is printed in my wanted posters.”

“How does a thief get stuck with such a… uh…,” Suguru trails off.

“Such a cheesy name?” you ask, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, you can thank Satoru for that. But then again, I think ‘Six Eyes’ is the shorter end of the stick.”

“You named each other?”

“It wasn’t intentional, believe me,” you say. “We hit the same target once—some rich dude's house—and he started calling me ‘Starlight’ when I refused to give him my name as a way to annoy me. He then proceeded to trip over something and alert the guy, who then called the guards. I guess they heard us bickering or something, because next thing we know, there are wanted posters without likeness and those nicknames. But you know, such is the life of an orphan turned thief.”

“Oh,” Suguru says, something akin to sympathy in his eyes.

“Don’t—Don’t look at me like that,” you say, flustered. Satoru and you would usually gloss over the tragedy of both your stories with humor and jokes, and nobody else had actually cared since—well, never. 

He tilts his head to the side, confused. “Like what?”

“You—well—never mind,” you say, standing up abruptly, shattering whatever tension had been forming between you and him. “I’m going to find more firewood. Be back in a bit.”

“Sure,” he says, and you swear he sounds disappointed. But that only makes your ears heat up more, so you pick up your pace into the woods. 

About halfway through, when you almost collide with a tree, you realize the light of the full moon is not enough to see. So to avoid any more injuries—even if they can be healed by Mr Magic back there—you sit down on an exposed root to wait for your eyes to acclimatize themselves. 

With only the sounds of nature to accompany you, you reflect back on the day you’ve had so far. You stole the royal circlet, got chased in the woods, found a tower, got knocked out and ripped off by the tenant of said tower, got to know the dreams of ruffians and thugs, got chased again, almost died, and discovered Suguru’s magical powers.

All in all, it was a productive day. Of what exactly? Who knows. 

You twirl your hand around when you can see better in the dark of night, flexing and stretching your fingers, forming a fist and then letting go. It doesn’t hurt as much as it did when it was cut open—more accurately, it doesn't hurt at all. 

But old scars and calluses are still present in your skin, so you think that maybe this power only heals recent injuries, or that it focused solely on it for its urgency. Maybe then that power could be used for healing old injuries too, for erasing the marks that blemish your skin, unfitting of a lady. But you haven’t been a proper one in so long, so why start now?

As you trace your palm up and down, following the line of where a would should be, you think about the soft hands that held your own. The smoothness wasn’t a surprise—he never left the tower, for god’s sake—but the gentleness was. 

When was the last time someone held you delicately? 

You ponder on this question for the next few minutes while you scavenge for firewood, not quite finding an answer you like. The ladies at the orphanage never brought corporeal punishment down on any of the kids that resided there, but neither did they sing you lullabies at night. The guards aren't exactly nice when they arrest thieves, and the closest you had to family was Satoru, with whom playful punches and teasing words are plentiful.

But never had you felt that warmth, that feeling of safety, as when you sat on that log, contemplating the fire you had brought to life, and lent your hand to Suguru with no questions asked. 

You sigh, bringing a hand up to your face, so that maybe the coldness of it could help bring the heat of your cheeks down. This doesn’t make any sense—you need to get a grip, and quickly. You met this guy today and you would say goodbye tomorrow or shortly after it. You can’t afford to get attached, not to someone who deserves someone better, someone who is not a thief, someone with softer hands. 

You think of some stupid question on the way back, something to extinguish that tension that you had felt before, finally finding one when you catch a glimpse of the fire. 

“So—hey, princess!” you yell from the neck of the woods. “Is there a chance I am getting powers now? Since you used that magic on me or something—” you stop dead in your tracks, worry tightening your face when his back is to you, his shoulders tense. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Suguru turns, dazed, like he hadn’t noticed you arrived. “Yeah, just… lost in thought,” he is quick to say. 

You stay silent for a moment, giving him time to explain should he want to, but when he doesn’t, you just shrug and drop some of the firewood into the fire, saving some for later. You then plop down and get comfortable in mother nature’s mattress: grass. 

“Night, Suguru,” you say.

“Good night, Y/n,” he answers, distracted.

[elegantcreationsoul]

My Issue in Arcane..

Heya guys, now that Arcane has come to an end, it's obvious we will all miss this beautiful show but that doesn't mean we shouldn't talk about the issues in this show. The only issue I'll talk about is.. isn't this show supposed to be about 2 sisters? How did we went from 2 sisters who tragically lost everything.. to ARCANE JESUS AND THE GLORIOUS EVOLUTION?

In season 1 episode 1, we were first shown a scene on a bridge. An something shoots a zaunite, it must be a monster but no, it was revealed to be an enforcer. Then the next scene shows us the 2 sisters walking down the bridge filled with dead bodies and there they saw their mother's body. In the whole of act 1 of season 1 we've see how the 2 sisters live and how they do things to survive, we're also given how Zaun is like— vendors selling things that are probably dangerous, a brothel, people selling weird looking animals and other stuffs.

Then in Episode 2 of season 1, the first scene that comes up is some kid in the heavy snow storm with her mother, his mother fainted, he yelled for help then some some weird stranger come up to him and start to do some funky magic? I mean yeah that's cool but what does that have anything to do with the 2 sisters.

In this show, we're constantly being shown the sisters then some 2 dudes who wanna magic, back to Jinx and Silco, then the council, back to Vi and Caitlyn trying to find "powder," then a dude banging a rich woman and another dude who is just d y I n g, then back to main storyline. I'm not saying the magic subplot is bad, I'm just saying if you want to make another subplot, atheist make it a little connected to main plot and doesn't stray far from it.

In my opinion, I think the magic in this show is just unnecessary. Instead of powder taking the hex crystals and accidentally dropping which lead to the explosion of the apartment, maybe replace it with a machine that powder was curious looking at then vi calls out for her, powder quickly runs out the room and the machine accidentally fell and it reveals that the machine is actually an explosive with a timer, vi takes everything and prepared to leave then BOOM! We get act 1. Instead of Jinx with her rocket launcher and using a hex gem to enhance it, maybe replace it with a different rocket launcher that looks big and dangerous to blow up a building, Jinx aims for the tower and she shoots then BOOM! Season 2! We would still get the death of Caitlyn's mother, Jinx becoming a symbol of Zaun and leading the revolution and vi being a pitfighter.

For the characters, as much as how interesting is Jayce, Viktor, and Mel are, their story is just contrasting to main plot. They can still keep the characters but for their story, they could've just make another show? They'll just need to focus on the politics, classism and others that is connected to the 2 sisters.

Yeah, that's basically it.

[toastsrambles]

Hi,.....if you don't mind me asking, can I ask your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from Moriarty the Patriot? And why you loved them? And your top 5 favorite moments from the series? Sorry if you've answered this question before....Thanks....

Ah, it’s never a bother to answer asks! If anything, feel free to send me more.

Top five characters…

First is probably Louis! I think his relationships with William and Albert are very compelling, and the disconnect between what people expect from him and what he does is also interesting. For example, in Baskerville William insists that he doesn’t Louis to have to become a killer… and then Louis murders a guy in cold blood. I also have to say that his relationship with Sherlock is pretty funny. I can't wait to see where his arc goes in art two! I would really appreciate a chapter dedicated to his headspace during part one, like we got with Albert.

Second is James Bonde! And yes, I will always spell his name that way… the fact that they tried to get past copyright by just adding an ‘e’ to the end of Bond is hilarious and I will always honour that. I also just love the fact that they didn’t make Irene Sherlock - or for that matter, William’s - love interest. Bonde is also just so fun, a really great mix funny and intelligent! And, the canon trans representation was unexpected but really delightful.

Third would probably be Albert! Honestly, I wasn’t too interested in him until the very end, particularly that chapter of him in the tower. But rereading the story now, with all his trauma and backstory in mind, he is just so fascinating! I also think is relationship with his original sibling is interesting, even though we get to see so little of it.

Fourth is William himself! I swore to my friend that I would never feel sympathetic for someone who opened the series with a triple murder but… ah, he’s worked his way into my heart. His mindset throughout the series is so intriguing, and I particularly enjoyed reading through his breakdown during the Final Problem. We got a real insight into his head, and it was fascinating to see. And the way they balance the ACD Moriarty with their Moriarty is also so cool!

Fifth is Sherlock. I am a massive Sherlock Holmes fan - why I started reading in the first place - and their approach to Sherlock is delightful. Every other adaptation insists on making Sherlock very serious, and Moriarty the Patriot just has fun with him! He’s silly and energetic, and I love his relationships with just about everybody- Mrs Hudson, John, and - of course - William.

And then, top five moments…

My first, most favorite, has to be the bridge scene. Ugh, the tension, William and Sherlock, the art… it’s so memorable, and just such a good conclusion to that part of the story. I really don’t have words for how much I like this scene.

Secondly is, oddly enough, Sherliam after the Noahtic. When Sherlock deduces everything about the crime in front of William, who is visibly becoming more and more interested and/or worried? Classic. And of course, the iconic line- “When you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, how improbable, must be the truth”? Perfect.

Third is the time in A Study in S where Fred, dressed as an old lady, evades Sherlock. Just, imagine being a random passerby in London seeing a grandma parkour his way away from a detective- who is also an accused murderer. And the grandma wins. Iconic. A scene I frequently giggle about at random times throughout the day. Much sillier than the rest of the moments on this list, but still. Fourth, Louis and Fred going to Sherlock for help during The Final Problem. It’s such an emotionally charged moment- Fred being nervous about betraying William, only for Louis to agree with him and then them both going to ask Sherlock for help. The relationships in this scene are so complicated, and I particularly love Louis and Sherlock’s relationship. Also, Louis’ visceral reaction to Sherlock and William being friends is priceless.

Fifth but not least, the train scene. Ah, the iconic train scene. I love this initial depiction of William and Sherlock’s relationship, and how this theme of William being the enigma and Sherlock trying to crack him that will continue to be explored throughout the series is introduced. Also, there’s a certain hilarity to this scene. William, stop telling the detective you could be the criminal he could be looking for. What do you mean ‘catch me if you can’, he’s accusing you of murder. Your little brother is right there, stop flirting with this man. And Sherlock’s everything through this scene. A wonderful lack of interpersonal skills all around.

Notable runner ups include every scene Moniepeny is in, John and Sherlock's first meeting, William being reunited with everyone, and Louis and Fred mocking Moran in that one omake.

Seriously, I love answering asks! And any chance I get to talk about Moriarty the Patriot.

[makemeimmortalwithahug]

2024 WRITING REVIEW

thank you for the tag @ahyperactivehero !!

stress free tags: @oddessea @nix-nihili @read-write-thrive

number of stories posted to ao3: 8! Exclusively Dead Boy Detectives and I started in August, there will be more in 2025!

word counted posted for last year: 45,885 words

fandoms i wrote for: Dead Boy Detectives

pairings: mainly payneland, but also palasaki

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads:

kudos: I'll Love You Carefully - A cursed Edwin falls from the Tower Bridge and Charles rushes to his rescue

bookmarks: also I'll Love You Carefully (something about protective!Charles just hits right)

comment threads: The Road to Ruin - Edwin gets taken to Hell for the second time but Charles is in a much much worse mental state

work i’m most proud of (and why):

it must be The Road to Ruin because I am actually proud of my characterisation of Charles and it's my first attempt at a multi chapter fic, so that alone is enough for it to have a special place in my heart. I love really getting into the Hell aspect of it all and I think the introspective nature has something to it that I previously never quite managed to capture with my writing.

work i’m least proud of (and why):

probably How Could You Think, Darling, I'd Scare So Easily? - Charles gets capture by Esther and Edwin rescues him Tam Lin style. It was the second fic I ever posted but I have to say I should've worked longer on it. It's not bad but I realised that it could've been more angsty and it feels kind of rushed when I reread it now

share or describe a favorite review you received:

it was so hard to pick just one because I love every single comment and they all make me stay motivated and want to get better. But if it's just one, then probably this one:

(sorry for all the tags btw, oddessea dear, you've been such a huge part of my journey on ao3, I cannot thank you enough!)

I think this is the one comment that genuinely made me tear up because I had been struggling with the way I wanted to write this fic and reading that it apparently worked out was just absolutely bloody wonderful

a time when writing was really, really hard:

Probably the last few weeks because I have all of these ideas but also a lot of pressure (put there by myself, mind) to have them turn out perfectly. I won't get into any details, but real life hasn't been too good either for a while now, so it's hard to get into the right mindset sometimes. But it will get better

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Crystal surprised me a lot! I adore her so much and I want to do her complexity justice and while I don't think I have posted a lot of Crystal yet, I enjoyed writing my palasaki fic Bloom Like A Flower so much because it allowed me to show that while Crystal is incredibly powerful and has been through a lot, she's still a teenager

a favourite excerpt of your writing:

I think this one stuck with me:

He pressed Charles even closer to himself, as if he wanted to embrace him fully, so as to not let any of his demons reach Charles in any way. Charles moved to brace his hands against Edwin, somewhere between resting them on his shoulders and pressing them against his collarbones. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to push Edwin away in desperation or pull him closer until no one could untangle them anymore. Edwin was coming undone around him and there was nothing for Charles to do to ease his pain. It was obvious that whatever Edwin was seeing, hearing, feeling, it was paranoia and not something Charles could see. How could you help someone who saw the world burning and crashing around them while you were still standing on solid ground, mere millimeters between both of your realities? - The Case of the Turning Key

how did you grow as a writer last year:

A lot, seeing as I had never written fanfic before and had been struggling with my original works for so long that calling it "writer's block" would've been a huge understatement. So just the fact that I managed to finish 7 (!) fics is already a huge accomplishment for me. Apart from that, I got better at finding the characters' voices when changing POVs.

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.)

shoutout to a few people as well!

I obviously have to thank @im-perfectly-normal-about-this for listening to my yapping about various ideas in dms and giving me feedback on my Charles characterisation! I appreciate you so much!

Also dear @oddessea for making my day with every single comment you write!

And then of course the entire DBDA Haunt server. Joining was probably the best decision I made in 2024 and all of our discussions in the writers room are so special to me.

Thank you to: @genevievefangirl, @ahyperactivehero, @read-write-thrive, @moonikabear, @dead-but-still-sarcastic, @zmorak (I'm so sorry if I forgot anyone! Y'all are all so loved!!)

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year:

definitely, little nods to things I enjoy or have done myself. I am good at projecting my own insecurities and problems onto Charles and of course the best example would be Days by the Sea - the agency goes on vacation in Scotland. That was entirely created from my wish to someday visit Scotland

any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

have fun!! When I don't pressure myself into writing and just do it for fun, I get the best results, not because they're perfect or anything, but because I genuinely enjoy working on them and then also feel good about finishing them. Having fun is already a big step

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year?

The Road to Ruin will defintely find an ending in 2025! Apart from that, I obviously have my F1 AU that I've been yapping about. A different Modern AU and then let's see what I'll come up with next 👀 I'm looking forward to this year <3

[kindlespark]

AHHH I've just finished reading Babel and I've been scrolling tumblr because I can't get over this book lol and I came across your blog! I LOVE your posts!! But I have a question, do you think Letty knew about Robin and Ramy? As in, their feelings for each other? Because I did see multiple posts mentioning it, but I don't see where it was implied in the book.

Is it the line 'a truth they'd only been starting to wake up to'? Because it's still unclear to me who 'they' is referring to. Or is it the reason Letty killed Ramy in the first place, and that was what Robin was trying to get her to admit when she came to the tower to negotiate with them? Something else entirely? I'm so confused HELP

HELLO! omg im glad you enjoy my ramblings lmao!!

honestly i think it's left up to interpretation on purpose! i personally interpret it as like, regardless of if letty knew specifically about ramy and robin's feelings for each other, she definitely knew that ramy had chosen robin over her. ramy choosing robin was him devoting himself to the liberation of his people and community, over letty's whiteness and complicity. letty's love for ramy was possessive and egocentric; the moment ramy stepped away from what she wanted him to be, from what she thought of him as as an enlightened brown person; the moment she knew he would never reciprocate, that love turned violent.

and i do think ramy and robin growing closer post-canton was part of that awakening of like, oh, ramy has devoted himself to something that isn't me and will never be me, and that directly opposes her existence (it doesn't, of course, but she won't see that). hence the 'only beginning to wake up to' line, because i do believe had robin not gone through his bridge scene realisation in canton, ramy would never have allowed himself to follow his feelings (he refuses to date a liberal god bless him)

but the extent of how much letty suspected is never confirmed, nor if she really did aim to kill ramy. robin never knew for sure, so we as readers never get to either! it's so juicy it's so tragic i miss them every day <3

[spork-supremacy]

I swear I think I’ll be writing a regular old fight scene to just a deciding factor of sorts, winner gets a prize and all.

a mere 300 words later and I’m writing a deadly display of lightning abilities and mind/body control through the utilisation of electricity in the body. It’s nothing gory or anything, couldn’t do that to save my life, but if feels maybe too immoral for Jay. Like he is definitely the most morally questionable in the team around that season 5-6 period but I also don’t want him bordering villain behaviour. More mad scientist behaviour.

like on one hand I want to remain in the realm of canon probably considering his skill set, ethics, and morality. But I also want to write lightning abilities to my fullest imaginable extent because it’s literally just playing with electrons. The dark curiosity is gnawing at me.

I’m just going to let the extract speak for itself and while I don’t usually write to this intensity or anything I’d like some advice if I went a little too far. Or if I actually didn’t and I’m just being too in my head about it.

also for context he’s doing this to a pirate after making a deal to win a fight for his freedom. Granted while he wasn’t supposed to have his powers because vengestone, they never explicitly said he couldn’t use them if he broke free.

« Neural links in the brain were snuffed out, specifically the ones that controlled the muscles in the mouth. Jay for just a moment thought about how hard it could be to rebuild those bridges. Well it’s not like the guy was going to need them anymore.

 “There, now stay quiet, I’m trying something new, and frankly quite awesome if I do say so myself, and need to be able to test it out and concentrate.”

With just a little more concentration and fiddling with several brain signals he didn’t really have a clue did what, he was able to command the man’s body to stand. However he couldn’t make it look natural, balance a struggle to maintain, limbs limp when no attention was paid to them, it was almost as if they were attached to invisible stings that were the only way to move the man, strung like a puppet.

Anyone still left around the ring didn’t dare come close to the prisoner before them. The fear of being the next rag doll too strong to even consider stepping up and subduing the boy themselves.

Jay laughs in awe of his power, in excitement of his control. “Wow, this is so cool, I can’t believe I’m actually doing this!”

He says that as if it was the day he made the Bounty fly, he says that as if he was entering Borg Tower for the first time all over again, he says that as if this wasn’t one of the most horrid discoveries he’s ever made about his own power, something no other master or lightning would even dare to tap into. »

He feeling slightly op right now so for the sake of my ending I’m gonna have to find a way to stop him. Are we seeing what I mean by him maybe snapping a little and feeling little to no remorse about this.

[rattsin]

I got these when I asked for suggestions for possible drawings from the lioness books, its been a while forgive me, I was excited to do them but I won’t even cook for other people in case the food is bad let alone draw something, so they went onto The Pile until now

Once he was satisfied as to the extent of her knowledge, he put her to learning something called “algebra.”

“What is it?” Alanna wanted to know.

The priest frowned at her. “It is a building block,” he told her sternly. “Without it you cannot hope to construct a safe bridge, a successful war tower or catapult, a windmill or an irrigation wheel. Its uses are infinite. You will learn them by studying them, not by staring at me.”

~~~

“You may as well get used to it.”

“No!” Alanna cried, jumping to her feet. “I won’t let it!”

Again Mistress Cooper raiser her eyebrows.

“You’re a female, child, no matter what clothing you wear. You must become accustomed to that.”

“Why?” Alanna demanded. “I have the Gift. I’ll change it! I’ll—“

“Nonsense!” the woman snapped. “You cannot use your Gift to change what the gods have willed for you, and you would be foolish to try! The gods willed you to be female and small and redheaded, and obviously silly as well—“

“I am not silly!”

——————————

I thought about adding this in a separate post but here’s the thing, I’m not unleashing this without addressing this rank take of Mistress Coopers.

We’re all modern people here, it’s my understanding that Tamora Pierce has spoken about Alanna’s gender as might be seen today and that it isn’t or may not be female, and I myself am unavoidably trans from my head to my toes and I’ve been following one spiritual path or another of my own volition since I was 10.

So I think I can say that what has been said here, it sucks. Hot damn it sucks so, so bad. I understand the context and the time these words came from and as I was a little tomboy who did grow out of it for a while I understand the power that someone may feel being told it’s fine to be as you are, it’s how God willed you. But you know, and yes this will only apply to a very small percentage of people but it includes myself, to be told to go against what your body is screaming at you is an impossible ask and to see that burden being dumped on a child’s shoulders by a stranger it sucks. To tell a person with faith their god put them on a path only to suffer, mate, just as bad. Because I know that that still happens in our everyday modern lives, it’s still a sentiment lots of people hold to.

So anyway, I’m sorry if you’d rather just the pictures without the debrief but again, I had strong positive memories of this scene but looking at it after some growing, yeah nah I’m not letting that stink out into the world on it’s own to possibly hurt someone vulnerable. I did really enjoy drawing these. I think of these ones as maybe Alanna and George reminiscing about some awkward encounters and I might like to do that last image in watercolour… if I can get my head around horseflesh a bit better anyway