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fogwitchoftheevermore · 5 months ago

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Yes! The ways the mechs and mcyt handle narrative have always been so similar to me but I've never been able to put it onto words. Would Love to hear what you have to say on the topic (after you have had a good sleep)

HI, it's time for me to get insane. Thank you for sending this ask cause now I have an excuse to maintag the post, lol. Also, I'm going to be using the term MCYT interchangeably with MCRP (Minecraft roleplay) for my own sanity. You'll know what I mean from context clues, I think.

So, hi, anyone who doesn't know about The Mechanisms. This post is going to be about some meta analysis tools that popped up in the Mechs fandom when it exploded in popularity back in 2020-2021. Due to the nature of both the Mechs and MCYT (which I'll get into in a moment), these concepts are generally very helpful for meta analysis of MCYT as well, and I think you guys would love them.

First of all, what was The Mechanisms?

The Mechanisms, originally known as Dr. Carmilla and The Mechanisms, was a band that formed in the late 2000s. It had a rotating cast of members, though most of the stuff you can easily find from them (such as their albums) was made when they had 8-9 consistent members. The Mechanisms officially released seven albums and one single before the band broke up in early 2020. The reason this band is similar at all to MCYT comes from a few things- the characters the band played, the stories the band told, and the archival aspect/age.

Because the Mechs were not a regular band, it was also a storytelling experience. Each Mechs album tells it's own self contained story (except for the Tales to be Told albums, which feature songs with their own stories that don't tie into the album at large). But furthermore, each Mechanism is a character. All the members of the band had characters they played, acting as a band of immortal space pirates moving through the galaxy on their ship, The Aurora.

The similarity to MCYT here is, of course, the characters. It's not always as simple to tell the difference between MCYT characters and actors as it was with The Mechanisms, seeing as (a lot of) MCYT doesn't start with the acting/roleplaying intention that the Mechs started with. But nonetheless, they share the understanding that even though this isn't a play or a TV show or whatever scripted medium, and that even though these characters (sometimes) share similar/the same names as their creators, they are, ultimately, characters the creators are putting on in order to tell a story. Whether that story is something more connected to the base characters (less roleplay heavy servers, Mechs backstory beats) or a story where the characters themselves are filling a role to tell a new story (more roleplay heavy servers, Mechs filling in for characters on the albums to tell their stories), there is always a story to be told.

There is also, as I said, the archival aspect. Archiving is massively important to both The Mechanisms and MCYT. It's definitely a lot harder with the Mechs than with most MCYT stuff, since the Mechs are a whole lot nicher, but that is not to say it's easy for either group. Archiving is vital to keeping both fanbases, and both sets of characters, alive, and there is only so much archiving you can rely on the creators of either to do. Those of you who take this task on are genuinely so awesome and I love you.

Alongside the archiving aspect (and as such, the lost media aspect), there's also the age of the Mechanisms, and (similarly to MCYT), the large number of people involved in the project, which results in lost and oftentimes conflicting canon beats. Mechs lore was not a strict, planned out thing. Large swaths of it were made up on the fly or forgotten down the line and rewritten or just made to work because the story needed it. As such, a lot of Mechanisms meta analysis had to reckon with the fact that the story was often telling you two or three or more things that could not be true at once nonetheless were, or was telling you something with the assumption that you knew something else, but that something else is now impossible to track down. So, sometimes, you just had to pick and choose, or try to reconstruct that lost knowledge. Similarly, varying POVs and gaps in time or gaps in story result in a similar concept for MCYT analysis- sometimes it doesn't really work if you take every piece of lore into account, so you just can't, even though every piece of lore is equally canon; or sometimes, a specific source is lost and you have to trust the memory of people who saw or were involved in the source instead.

Now, what is narratomancy? And how is it relevant to meta analysis of MCYT?

Narratomancy is the name for a few concepts of meta analysis that popped up when the Mechs fandom exploded in 2020-2021. The term was coined by @lucky-sevens (who, unlike anyone else I bring up in this post, I feel comfortable tagging because they're inactive, lol, so this won't clog their notifs), but the credit for various concepts under the umbrella of narratomancy can go to a ton of people. Personally, I'm going to be heavily referencing one post in particular by @/gunpowderedtim when it comes to the four main pillars of narratomancy, and how they are relevant here. (BTW I know OP of that post has shifted at least a bit to the MCYT fandom as well, so if you see this and would like me to tag you properly, please let me know!)

(EDIT: I was informed in the replies that lucky-sevens did not, in fact, coin this phrase, but they can't remember who specifically did. Alas another Mechs thing lost to time.)

Narratomancy refers to the general concept of the narrative as a thing within the Mechs universe. The narrative, a story that wants to be told, is an (at least semi) sentient creature that is bending the universe to its will in order to be told. This living narrative helps to explain and work through some of the problems or plot holes in the narrative, and understanding this helps a lot for meta analysis, or even just understanding the story. As stated above, I'm going to be breaking down four main pillars that the post above identified, and how they may be relevant to MCYT meta analysis. Not all of them are going to work- these were concepts made up for The Mechanisms, after all, and for all their similarities, it's not a perfect 1 to 1. Let's get into it!

Pillar 1: Universal Story

This is a pillar that has one really important and relevant concept, but I do have to bend a bit of it in order to make it work. Namely, what we're calling "the universe" here. But it's still quite important. You'll see.

As mentioned up top, The Mechanisms were originally called Dr. Carmilla and The Mechanisms. Dr. Carmilla (both the character and the creator) eventually left the Mechs to do her own thing, tell her own story, but the story of the universe at large is still hers. She's still got her name in the title, she's still the one who created the original lore, so to the universe, she's still the main character. She might not be the main character of any given story, even any given story she participates in, but it's all her universe in the end. As such, both her stories and the stories of The Mechanisms are canon, but they might not be strictly canon to each other. Because ultimately, The Mechanisms were the universe's vessel for telling stories, and sometimes the stories they told made for a weird concoction of conflicting canon, so you just had to accept that these conflicting canon beats were both canon, but which one was canon depended entirely on which story you were looking at, which one was trying to be told, who that story specifically was about (this is a concept that'll come up again later).

The reason this is a bit less relevant to MCYT in that, if a roleplay server is being well run, you (hopefully) won't have a main character in this way. And even if you do, that main character is not always going to be the creator of the server/universe, ala Carmilla. But again, it's not irrelevant, because I think this can be applied when you're looking at individual POVs of any given event or server.

Every character is the main character of their own POV, even if they might not be the main character of any given story beat or event. They have their own lore and story to tell in that POV, and when you sit down to watch their POV that is the story you'll get. It just so happens that said story might have things that are canon to it that are not canon to other POVs, that cannot be canon to other POVs, and you as the fan have to reckon with that. Sometimes these things might be small or not something that's gonna really throw you, like the conflicting Magic Mountain lore in this season of Hermitcraft. Other times, these might be really big things, like Martyn's Watcher lore in the Life Series.

But either way, while the idea that there is a Universal Story that has a clear main character doesn't really apply to servers, it certainly ties in to the idea of POVs. And furthermore, the "all of these stories are canon, but not strictly canon to each other" idea that comes along with Universal Story is a really vital thing to keep in mind when it comes to MCYT.

Pillar 2: Casting Call (Narrative Role Filling)

There are two main parts to Casting Call. The first is that The Mechanisms have a role in the stories they tell, even the stories that are not their own, like the album ones. These roles are often trope heavy, or based on pre-existing characters that the Mechanisms themselves have similarities too. The second is that the Mechanisms slot into these roles not necessarily because they want to, but because they have to in order to make the story work. Because the narrative wants them to help the story along to the ending.

This is definitely more relevant in roleplay heavy servers, but it still comes up on just about every server out there. While for the Mechanisms, the divide is between "the character I am" vs. "the character I am playing so the story gets told", the divide for MCYT tends to be a bit more "the person I am" vs. "the character I am playing so the story gets told". This divide (and people's inability to understand it) is the reason why MCYTs so often have to give the "Remember, we're all friends in real life and anything that the others weren't comfortable with wouldn't be in the videos" disclaimer. Everyone involved in this story is playing a character to move the story along, and that character may be totally removed from their real life person (such as Scott playing Xornoth in ESMP s1) or pretty similar to their real life person, but dialed up so they can tell a story, get a reaction (I don't know any of these people in real life, so I can't confidently pin someone down for this, but you get what I'm talking about).

Regardless, there is a story to be told, even if that story isn't thought out in advance, and that requires people playing the villain or the damsel in distress or the knight in shining armor sometimes in order to get it done. And, tying back into Universal Story, who is playing which of these roles can change as the canon of each POV changes (such as in Third Life, where who is filling the "villain" role depends entirely on which POV you're watching).

Pillar 3: Story Echoes

Story Echoes are a very Mechanisms based concept, because unlike everything else here, they are explicitly canon. This concept refers to the fact that The Mechanisms' stories "echo" throughout the universe, or repeat over and over again. It's in different places and different times, but these stories are out there, over and over again.

This one can apply to MCYT, but I have to admit, it's a stretch and a half. Ultimately, the way this applies here is in the fact that there's no such thing as an original story. Every story borrows from or is inspired by or is similar to another story out there. It's the nature of story telling. The first example for MCYT that comes to mind is fan Life Series, stories that take the mechanics of the Life Series but put them somewhere else, somewhen else, with someone else. However, Story Echoes are explicitly the same story repeating over and over again, which isn't really the case with this example. As I said, it's a stretch, but I didn't want to skip over this pillar entirely.

Pillar 4: Narrative Imperative

And the final pillar, Narrative Imperative, also referred to as Narrative Flow. Despite this one also being explicitly canon to The Mechanisms, it is also very relevant to MCYT, and in my opinion, the most important concept on this list for MCYT meta.

Narrative Imperative is explicitly canon in the Mechs universe when it comes to how The Mechanisms heal from injuries or death. As discussed in this post from the official Mechanisms tumblr, that healing factor functions at "whatever speed the story wants it to". This concept of "sometimes stuff just happens because it must for the story, even if it doesn't make sense or actively contradicts previously established canon" has been brought up before when we were discussing Universal Story, in respect to lore, to roleplay based story beats, for both groups. Here, it's more discussing a fact of the universe at large, a fact of how the Mechanisms function. And while the general concept of Narrative Imperative can be applied to literally any conflicting lore thing in any MCYT server or story (it's flexible in that way), I think it works best when talking about how game mechanics tie into the story.

What does death mean for this character? What does death mean for this character when on this specific server? What does death mean for this character on this specific server in this specific moment? What does logging off mean for this character, on this server, in this moment? What does voice mod or discord calls or chat mean to this character? What do skin changes mean? What does the Player Heads mod mean? What does sleep mean?

There are a million mechanics you can ask these questions about, and you can get a million different answers to each of them. Death can and does mean wildly different things on different servers (see: a Hardcore series like Naked and Afraid versus Hermitcraft). But it can also mean wildly different things on the same server to the same character at different points in time (see: the concept of "canon lives" on DSMP). Death, and numerous other game mechanics, mean whatever the hell the story (and the universe and creators involved) wants them to mean. You just have to take it in stride, the rules aren't clear because if they were, there wouldn't be enough freedom to tell a story.

Even on servers where it seems like the rules are clear, like the Life Series or other death games, death doesn't always mean what the rules say it does. Take glitch deaths, for example, like Loony's (almost) glitched death in season 1 of Deceit SMP. He glitched into a wall and should have died, but Legundo was allowed to cheat (use creative) to save him, or, had he died, been allowed to use cheats to bring him back, for fairness' sake. But this doesn't only apply to glitches- take one of Scar's off camera deaths in Third Life. I don't have the source for when Martyn talked about this on hand, but Martyn has mentioned that Scar technically died earlier in Third Life, when Martyn just snapped one day when Scar provoked him, killing Scar in a short, boring fight. There was nothing technically illegal or unfair about that kill, like with a glitched death, but when all was said and done, everyone agreed it just sort of... felt bad. That it didn't feel like a good story. So, the death was overturned, and the server went on as usual. The rules may have been clear here, but sometimes rules get in the way of a good story, so they're disregarded, simple as that.

MCYT stories are not being told in spite of their medium but in harmony with them. And as such, that means that sometimes, the narrative rules above all, and narrative imperative says that this mechanic is going to work like this, at least for now, at least for me. It might not ever work like that again, for me or for anyone else on the server, but it works like that in this moment, so you take it as is.

So, yeah, there's my essay! My final thoughts: Go listen to The Mechanisms. Go listen to Maki Yamazaki (Dr. Carmilla). I hope you enjoy these four concepts and keep them in mind when you are analyzing or playing the space of MCRP, because I think they are really helpful things to keep in mind. Have a good one.

#im gonna be tagging all the servers i mention by name but like i said this can apply to just about any server #hermitcraft #third life smp #life series #dsmp #empires smp #deceit smp #analysis post #been a while since i got to use that tag #this similarity is also why i think so many mechs fans have moved onto mcyt #the appeal is there! its SO there!#please give this post some love guys i listened to two whole mechs albums while writing it #because i really wanted to make this clear so it took me 100 years #(the length of UDAD TTBTV1 and the gender rebels show)#im not gonna put the mechs tag on this though. i dont think i should #theres already enough tma crossposting in there i dont need to bog them down further #long post #IM SO SORRY I FORGOT TO PUT THAT TAG ON THIS

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dokidokitsuna · 2 years ago

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For the Gone AU, I'm curious about the realms that these guys rule. What's the setting here? What do they look like? I have a good idea of what the Realm of Stars might look like (involving a lot of robot people and tech) But what about the Realm of Blood and the Realm of Fate? I'm curious!

Well, you're right about the Realm of Stars-- it's basically just a giant futuristic civilization, and it's likely that many of its inhabitants have lived and "died" without even being aware of Star Dream's existence, outside of a nebulous god-concept.

This is probably the safest Realm to live in, if you're alright with the idea of being mechanized, if you can find somewhere to hide from the hive mind, or if you can convince the nearby members that you're not worth worrying about. The people of the RoS can be a bit...stupid and unobservant at times, due to their hedonistic lifestyle. ^^ And it's not like they need to be smart; Star Dream sees everything through them at all times, and if it recognizes any significant problems it will compel them to act the way it wants them to.

Minor things are usually left up to the discretion of the individual members though, so...if you play your cards right, and you're lucky enough to not be visited directly by an Avatar of the Dream, you could make a peaceful life for yourself in this Realm.

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The Realm of Blood, on the other hand, is basically everything that Star Dream hasn't touched; the places where all the flesh-creatures still live. Earth IRL would be considered part of this Realm.

Fecto Elfilis doesn't really 'rule' these worlds per se; the RoB is essentially defined by where it tends to hang out and look for "food". ^^; Worlds in this Realm go through a constant cycle of being struck by apocalyptic events of F/E's choosing, having most of their living creatures die out (or get eaten), and being slowly repopulated by whatever's left.

Because Fecto Elfilis is only one entity, whose movements are kind of random, it is almost indistinguishable from any world-destroying force of nature, like a comet strike or the death of a star. The vast majority of the inhabitants of the RoB don't know F/E exists and might not even recognize it as a sentient being if they saw its work firsthand...I mean, if it decided to play 'Roche Limit billiards' with a pair of planets the way it did in Forgotten Land, ain't nobody gonna live long enough to even understand what happened. ^^;;

Because of this, a lot of outsiders to the Realm tend to also see it as relatively safe and even to underestimate F/E itself-- there are probably plenty of smaller galaxy-scale tyrants wrecking shop in the RoB completely undisturbed.

But even if it takes millions of years, the true ruler will eventually wander by and remind them who the top dog really is. Because of the cycle of death and rebirth that binds the RoB and F/E's ridiculously old age, most of the entities that try to challenge it derive their power from some aspect of it (both Star Dream and the Master Crown, for instance) and this is when they tend to very painfully find that out. ^^;

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Last but not least, the Realm of Fate...the hardest one to name AND to define. ^^;

I based these three realms on some ancient natural philosophy thing I read once that I forgot the name of...basically, there is a ranked order of materials in the natural world. On one level, you have inanimate objects (Realm of Stars); on a higher level, you have animate creatures (Realm of Blood); and on an even higher level, you have the forces that animate creatures: souls and/or whatever the human mind is made of. This level is represented by the Realm of Fate.

It does have a presence in the physical world-- the first step of the Master Crown's conquest is always a show of force against the world its victims live in. But after that, most of its dealings take place inside of people's heads-- break the victims' reality, and then break the victims' perception of reality, and continue inside from there.

Unlike with the other two Realms, everyone living in the RoF knows what the MC is and recognizes its place in their lives. They only exist to be its puppets, to play its games and destroy each other...and the inside of each of their minds is like a realm of its own, where the MC rules with an iron fist and will torment them until their consciousness ceases to exist.

...Obviously this is the worst Realm to live in, 0/5 stars. ^^; It also makes the plot of GONE a little ironic-- essentially, the Master Crown gets one (1) taste of its own medicine and folds like a deck of cards. XD Not so tough when your own mind is the one being invaded, huh?

#kirby #gijinka #au #GONE.

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apollosprings · 6 months ago

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This is an official mission statement from the board of the New Age of Space Administration: composed of leaders that represent the superpowers of spacekind and more.

To the guests of Apollo Springs that would like to volunteer their powers to our cause, we thank you very much. And for those that wish to remain on the resort throughout this mission's timespan, we hope you continue to enjoy your time in paradise.

The New Age of Space Administration announces your 1st mission.

Your mission is to investigate the abandoned planet of Malebolge. This old, forgotten planet has been left desolate and hardly sustainable for mankind. It remains as an ashy, cold desert mass with abandoned buildings and factories left standing from lifetimes before. To simply breathe and survive, you must wear a suit at all hours while you are within the planet's atmosphere. The suit itself is quite difficult to move in, due to the dense atmosphere that also seems to impair one's constitution and powers if outside for too long.

We detected a recent surge of activity on the planet that has left us concerned however, and request that we send out our elite forces to investigate the affair. Best case scenario, you will find it to be a new species of life sustaining itself on the planet. Worst case scenario, criminal activity.

No life, besides the fiends that have adapted to their harsh environment, can sustain itself for long here.

Consider your investigation of the planet to be your most important goal, but also, we do request your assistance with one more affair. While you are Malebolge, we request that you also take the opportunity to obtain scrap for the resort's supplies and more. The more you can all possibly bring back, the better. The SS Cassiopeia, the ship we are lending you all, will have enough supplies and oxygen to last you all about two to three days. Weask that you complete your mission in two or less, for your safety.

We understand that such a high-risk mission may seem overwhelming however, so we have employed Venus to accompany you in finding the scrap and investigating the planet. She has the experience and knowledge to lead you all to victory, given her background.

Good luck, and may the stars shine upon you.

-The New Age of Space Administration.

Moderator's Note:

This oddly-familiar survival horror event will be taking place on July 27th and 28th and will be DMed by Mod Eden. It will test your survival skills and also, introduce some key concepts that will be frequent all throughout the first book of Apollo Springs!!

For this event and to simplify things, participation in the event will require that you choose one character from your roster and only one character. Your other characters will remain in Apollo Springs for the weekend. This will help our DM out and also, keep you from getting overwhelmed! Hope to see you guys there!

#announcements #apollo springs #event post

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rkcdlitt · 1 year ago

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Change

Change is a very easy word, but it is a very difficult concept to wrap our simple brains around. We have to accept that change is the absolute norm for our lives. Every morning that we awaken, we begin a new and exciting adventure in our lives. Many think that our new day is just another humdrum day, plodding along doing our job, going to school, or cleaning the house. What a dull life we live!!! Ho-hum! I am going to warn you: change is love.

At my age and physical condition, there is not much that I can do. But when I arise, I say to my wife that this is a great day; let’s get busy creating something new. Yesterday is forgotten; there is no going back to what has already happened. Smile, there is no remorse. If something is over, don’t be sad; be glad you had the opportunity to share whatever it was. Be courageous. Let’s take that step to the new adventure together. All three of us. You, me, and God. God gives us the courage and the desire to move forward, gives us the ability and the desire to be an element of change.

God knows, and God teaches us that anything of value is worthy of change. Looking forward is change; looking forward is our courage in action; it is us growing, loving, converting our inner selves to the futures of tomorrow. When we grow, we strengthen ourselves for any future struggles that others may cause us to face. We face them with flashes of lights and trumpets roaring in our minds as we gather our strength and the understanding that our new day is filled with God’s Love and guidance.

God asks us to change every day of our lives. We see un-godly images as we drive and walk our city streets; the poor and disabled crowd our successes with pleadings to change. Do we have the courage to walk up to that man, woman, or child and say, “I recognize that God inhabits your soul as He inhabits mine. I wake up every morning in a world of change; you do not. But this morning your world will change because God asks me to help change your life. I want to change your life.”

Can we really change? I pray so.

The early Christian community drew people irresistibly because it offered a rich alternative. New followers were enveloped into a family of faith that offered care and support. Early Christianity grew because people prayed together, read the Word together, and looked after one another’s basic needs for food or shelter. Historians tell us that Christians nursed each other through the plagues of fatal illness that rampaged through the densely populated, unsanitary Roman cities, while other groups abandoned the ill to their death. In its origins, if not now, the Christian community offered relationship, care, and survival in harsh times.

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tenten18282 · 2 years ago

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Thank u for your Doubt comic it had me actually sobbing at 2 AM, my sleeves ended up damp from wiping my face so many times haha. OK OK but I love?? Your depiction of young Time/Mask?? Like my actual first contact with Zelda was reading the ocarina of time manga which depicted oot Link as a cheerful kid so when I stumbled upon linked universe (which I adore but still) I was just like ??? at Time's more "serious jaded veteran" characterisation bc it was so off from what I imagined him to be like haha.

Plus I just don't find his adult self as interesting as his child self but there's SO little content abt child Time, so ur little links AU really hit my soft spot (besides little time being less jaded and having a brighter outlook just makes his tragedy hit that much harder haha) AND ITS NOT JUST THAT BUT ALSO how, despite Time looking like a kid and being more cheerful, u still add all these lovely glimpses into the side of him that he keeps hidden, which has been aged and hurt and simply *changed* by his adventures, with behaviours that aren't childlike at all (how used he is to hide when he is hurt, his fear of being alone and forgotten, how intimately he understands others' grief)

Time is my fave Link if me rambling all over your asks didn't give you a clue haha, BUT ALSO! WIND!!! I adore how you completely flipped things and made wind the oldest of the kiddie Links!! Bc he's usually the baby of the chain and I just love love LOVE how you flipped it around, how it just perfectly fits him bc he's the only Link who's also an older brother in the canon text and now he can use his big brother powers on the other three

Ik u said Wind is kinda intimidated by Time, but in your comics it really feels like he has a special connection to Time bc like! Wind knows Time's legend and now is his friend, so it's like Wind is the perfect person to see both what Time has achieved and who Time is as a person if that makes sense? and as such would have more tools at his disposal when trying to understand Time and end up knowing him best—which imo Time really needs someone like that, poor bby is always caught in-between and never quite belonging anywhere

Anyways this got away from me haha tl;dr is that I love your art and your comics and your characterization and you :D thank you so much for sharing!! Have a lovely day!

AH! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR KIND WORDS!!! also its completely okay to send long-form asks like this…. I love reading opinions and thoughts… its fun and I also took screenshots of this ask for safe-keeping…. thank you….. Shockingly enough, I made this comic to be a comforting story!!! I originally did not expect so many people to be sad or touched by it in such a way, it was very surprising… I think i just have a different criteria for what i consider sad…. haha... I wish I could continue with stories like these but comics take longer for me than usual…. I've been told i should make a blog to write down my thoughts on these characters and this AU as I do have a lot of them, and I also actually really do agree with a lot of what you're saying right now! Originally, I thought of this concept as a way to bring a smaller form twist of the LU characterizations i've enjoyed a lot … which is why i say it's an off-shoot of Linked universe, as these versions of Time, Four, Wind and Rulie will become the LU heroes in the future to me… also i just want them to hang out and have fun ha

I have a lot of thoughts on what you mentioned, and would like to elaborate on what i think while also just talking about it in general, so i will put down a "read more" so as to not make it difficult for other people to scroll through this blog.

I find myself seeing the Linked Universe iteration of the hero of time to be a character who's at the end of their development… someone who's fully come to find a resolution to what they've gone through and is now somewhat at peace, especially after meeting the hero of Twilight. Child time is the initiation of this period of darkness for him; yet despite him going through so many adventures he's still very much a child- I doubt he has the tools or abilities to fully process how cruel fate has been to him. He's still an odd-ball of a kid who's still cheery…. I think that the true tumult of his life reaches his peak just when he reaches his 20's not right when he finished his adventures, so younger time is someone who i really wanted to write and draw…

Besides, I don't think he genuinely focused much on the horrors of his adventure at this current time of his life, and probably even had fun at some points. I always saw him as the kind of optimist who down-plays these horrors… Since he's always been placed in the pedestal of the hero of time, I think he's used to becoming someone who's very dependable! While he has his friends Deku scrub, Mikau and Darmani, they can only do so much for him… Which is why i do think pairing him up with these young heroes will do him well! He finally has others who truly get it… I feel like even if he's a bit cryptic over what he's seen and found in his adventures (His hero friends only seem to think he has four transformation masks…) he'll soon learn to be more at peace with it, and start unpackaging his feelings on it…

(unrelated) It also kind of translates to how I view his masks in this au. While Time has healed them of their worries and let them be at peace through the song of healing, I also believe in my eyes that time himself is one of the MAIN reasons the masks truly haven't moved on, because if you play the elegy of emptiness, there's four statues you play to, link being one of them… to the masks he's the only one left who needs to heal and Link is not allowing himself that… so they're in a state of half-consciousness where they can vaguely communicate to Time, who's the only one who can truly understand them (Much like how the happy mask salesman comprehends the masks' emotions, I just like the idea that Time picked up this empath ability from using the masks so much... I also imagine that if the others put the transformation masks on, it wouldn't work).

Time treats the masks with complete respect because to him they're his close friends, people who have seen almost as much as him, they've been through the adventure as well… they're actual tangible proof that his adventure happened, and mattered… It goes to say that having your own consistent group of companions be masks is not very healthy- which is why the masks are happy Time has found more friends. (see "random conversations" for context.)

I also noticed i put a lot of focus on the hero of Winds as of late, but that's because I feel he's quite underutilized… He's a really emotionally mature, smart kid who's also one heck of an older brother! The way i see it is that Wind being intimidated over Time is less so of fear and moreso of realizing that the person you've been equated to your entire adventure by a lot of people is standing right there. It's originally an intimitading feeling, that is later translated into intense older brother worry; Wind most likely expected this capable adult who was untouchable, but the reality of it really frustrates him… He's at a loss on how to address him, either as a respectable fighter who's very well his predecessor, or someone who's is younger than him who shoulders too many responsibilities. In the end, his older brother insctincts kick up…. but he doesn't want to disrespect Time by implying he's incapable so he's quite conflicted. He finds a middle ground eventually. To me, Wind is Time's perfect successor, I find the dynamic they both share to be really interesting. I always imagined wind to be rebellious of the legends and destinies as he's quite an oddity compared to the other heroes, so he definitely tries to help and connect with time, who in the other games somehow becomes a symbol of the legends themselves. He just wants to help Time, someone who's slowly sinking but refuses to acknowledge it.

#misc thoughts #thank you for this ask!#it gave me the perfect opportunity to elaborate a little on what i think #send more lololol (joking)#Yhoh

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svtellify · 2 years ago

Text

nothing bad happens

if i am to be an author someday and publish this, if i am to be anything, i suppose i must let the world see my writing for what it is.

i myself don’t know the answer to that. but i can offer you this, and only wish that perhaps you’ll read it and find the book i read once, too young and too late and too forgotten.

i already love you, k

_______________________________________________________________________

Nothing bad happens.

You are born, and you are alive. A little girl, seven pounds, and then another three quarters, like the first seven weren’t enough, but there wasn’t enough to break even, to make eight. You come out fighting, fists and feet swinging at the nurse who carries you out, away from the one that brought you into this world.

She calls you feisty as she hands you back to her, and you wonder:

Was it such a fierce will to fight?

(to live)

Or was it anger, at having been born at all?

You don’t remember much of this now, but as a child, you read a lot. Some of your playlists now trigger memories of stories you could tell, of stories you’d only dreamed of. They’re not yours, of course, but they are stories nonetheless.

Even now, as you write, you wonder if any of it is real. If these words aren’t just lights on a screen, and forgive me, I was never quite my father’s daughter. They said you were, but he is a man who knows to fight, and on a good day, you don’t wince at how bright the sun is.

No, you were never a fighter.

Still, you fight.

You don’t quite understand where these words are coming from. Thoughts on a screen and not a paper because your mind is still fast—because it has to be, to keep running away from your. Thoughts on your skin and scars on the surface.

Perhaps it is the scars that litter your skin, the reason you think you fight. You scar easily, always have. Paper cuts and razor blades, it’s all the same. Gravel and carpet, cement and metal, you bleed the same.

Indifferent, time passes. You do not try to be poetic when you contemplate this—not that there’s much to contemplate.

I remember now, a book. A little after A Wrinkle in Time, and perhaps it was by the same author, I cannot say with certainty anything you remember is true, but perhaps if you find this book, you’ll know. About dolphins. You liked dolphins a lot at an age you cannot remember, but this book was for big kids, about kissing and falling in love and three boys. A vampire, running from the sun; a childhood best friend, a concept surely constrained to fiction; and someone perfect, surely, for you don’t remember him.

You think the girl in the book chose the childhood best friend? I can only tell you it wasn’t the vampire.

These words fall too easily. In the background music is a guitar. Electric. Last time, it was an emotional edm based future bass song. Which is a lot of words for a beat drop, heavy and filled with synths, that took your heart with it. You remember that, don’t you?

Life isn’t a fairytale.

You knew Santa wasn’t real before you were five and after you turned three. A new house was a novelty and the carpeted stairs were more than enough for a three year old. Three is anew, the first memories you can say are yours not those imagined from photos of a before.

Five is wondering if you were ever enough, for the first time. If you were, would there be more? Would there have been such a yearning for someone else that you’d be cast aside?

They didn’t mean to.

But, then again, would you be less?

Five is holding another for the first time and thinking that you could be a fighter, that you could raze the planet and leave the universe to burn for daring to hurt him.

Four is a blank.

So is six. So is eight.

Seven is dolphins, and books. The books never leave.

Nine is leaving behind the security of a dichotomy—a childhood you would never get back, and the childhood you don’t remember if you had or not.

When you get to nine, you remember that there’s two sides to this story. There’s the part where you stop here, and the story starts. There’s the part where you wonder if you are nothing more than a bridge across the sky, the lowest point in the earth, dissolving each day, never to remember it again.

Nothing bad happens. Not really.

You’re nineteen and home for the space between semesters. It’s been a bad semester and you’re somewhere new again and home is a house you don’t recognize, your walls the call of the inside of your skull, and the light the same color as the inside of your eyelids.

Nothing bad happens. It doesn’t have to. But, then again, nothing good does either.

You can’t stop the earth from spinning, no matter how terrible your day is. No matter how fast you run backwards nor how the music stains your skin after a long day.

You can’t sleep either—another night means another day, and the simple thought of waking up again is enough to drive you to tears, trembling under a sink in a city that’s too small to be that, too rural to be a place you’d wish you could see again.

Your only company is a stuffed dog from an uncle of your mom, someone you’ve never seen since you were two. Someone who you’re not close to, but we don’t get to choose our lifelines.

And it’s 4 am and the earthquake was fifteen minutes ago, with no aftershocks in sight, but you’re still shaking when you think of a future, of that empty apartment and fridge and kitchen and everything you’d ever looked forward to, but you’re alone, and even the thought of that dog you’ve always wanted can’t make it stop.

All you can think of is that one day, that dog will die. And you will have to live without them.

You don’t even have a dog yet. You don’t even know if you can fight your way till then anymore.

I saw a dog, on the side of the road, the shoulder of the freeway, on the way back. Asked my dad to stop, to check for injuries. He said the dog was dead. Hit by a car, and left to die. All I can think of is to check for a pulse, to ask him to pull over and let me run over, despite the flowers on the other side of the road, wilted and fading.

There will be no flowers for that dog. Gray, a darker black at the roots. A long tail, and short ears that didn’t quite point.

You check for a pulse. There is none. No one can ever find one. Your veins are buried beneath the surface and they only come up to bleed.

You don’t have a story to tell like the others. Educated parents they worked hard for. Immigrants from India, with dreams of more opportunities for their future families. Middle class, and so undoubtedly mediocrely so, you exist. Whatever brilliance built your parents, it seeped so far into their bones that even your birth couldn’t draw it out. You see it in your brother sometimes, and wonder how it is that nature made you, capable of absorbing all the light, a darker shadow even in the night.

You are not a story, nor anything less special. Not worth a poem, and yet.

You are the daughter of your mother, and the world hurts a little too much when the sun shines so bright that you have to cover your closed eyes to keep the light out. She is kind. You wish you could scream from this pit you’re in, a well, an echo chamber.

Your mother is kind. It is hard, being the daughter of a mother. It is even harder to be your mother. You do not give her enough credit and you wish you could, but even the most well constructed of sentences dissolve into hysterics and your voice is all uneven and hitches on every other note.

Your mother is the sun. Her name, a ray of light. Sunbeam.

Oh, but the girl doesn’t choose the vampire, does she now?

Love takes no shape in you. Quite the opposite—you reject it.

Your father is a honeybee. He doesn’t lead, though he would be well advised for it. He makes his peace with what he can, but he is stubborn. He does not let go of what he believes to be true.

You could be your father’s daughter.

But even if he didn’t always seem like it, he is kind. You see the patience in the way he takes shelter from the rain, only to water the redwood in the back, a tree that was drying up before it was yours, and will dry up after too.

Would have.

Your brother is the rain. He hates it, the dark sky and tearful skies. A force to be reckoned with, the rainbow of brilliance and he is his parents’ son.

You are feelings. Volatile and caustic, you have no meaning. There is no meaning well when you lash out, nor do you know how to apologize. You chase away the touch that holds you together, until you’re left wishing you could ask for those moments as a child—a baby, really—again, when you couldn’t speak but you did smile.

How do you apologize, I wonder? I am sorry, for how I am. I’m sorry you made me, you know? I know names aren’t supposed to mean all that much, but I don’t know what else I could be, not when you said this is all I’d ever be.

People are scared of ghosts. You never understand why, thinking of the stories they could tell and the people they could be. It’s only natural, of course, to fear the unknown. That which you can’t see.

Just as it is natural to want to know more about your people. Those like you.

Nothing bad happens.

You parents know the language and you translate for your brother. You wish he knew how to translate their language back to you. Wish the words didn’t feel wrong when you thought them.

Your struggles pale in comparison to those around you. Still, you cry. Late at night, when you’re forcing yourself to stay alive, it’s easy to cry.

I had a friend tell me once I don’t smile very much. It’s complicated, but I don’t know how to tell her that I laugh really easily. It’s funny, quickly, but smiling comes from feelings.

You are feelings, but perhaps in naming you so, you were cursed with so many. They are so heavy to carry so you must abandon them, left with nothing. A hollow shell, a walking skeleton.

Do you see the ghost?

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 4 years ago

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can you do a daughter one where their stevie meets big stevie? that would be so cute!! thanks💕

alright I did not really like how this turned out lsdkfjlskjflskd but it's a really cute concept 🥺

the Stevies

warnings: none

word count: 1.5k

"Love?" Harry asked, looking over at you. You hummed in response, not taking your eyes off the laptop you were typing on. "You know what we need to do?"

"What do we need to do?" You replied, finally giving him your full attention as you closed the lid of your computer. "We need to take Stevie to meet Stevie." You blinked in confusion. "We haven't done that yet? She's two. How have we not…” You looked down at your hands, trying to remember. “Are you sure? Didn’t we take her to the show in Chicago?” He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure if my two favorite people in the world met up, I’d remember it. I’d probably still be talking about it today.” “Hey,” you mocked offense, pouting as you tossed the closest throw pillow at him. “Thought I was one of your favorite people.” “Sorry, my love,” he grinned, moving closer to you on the couch. “Of course you are. I mean my two favorite Stevies.” “Mhm,” you eyed him suspiciously. “Sure you did.” He offered a charming grin. “Anyways,” you rolled your eyes with a small smile. “You’re right, I can’t believe we haven't gotten around to that yet. She’s probably a bit put off.” He nodded. “She is. She’s been texting me nonstop.” “Harry!” You cried, whacking him again with the pillow. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I don’t want her to think we don’t want them to meet or something, she’s gonna think I don’t like her!” You punctuated every few words with another smack. “Would you stop-” He leaned over you, wrestling the pillow out of your grip. You held tight to your weapon, but he managed to get it away from you. He sat back with a huff, hugging it close to his chest so you couldn’t grab for it again. “I don't know! There was just no good time for us to do it. And then the longer I waited to ask you, the more she texted, and now I think she might bite my head off when we finally see her.” “Thanks so much for that,” you sighed, shaking your head as you placed your hands over your face. “Now I have to explain to her that I don’t hate her, I just married an idiot.” “A cute one, though,” he smiled again. “You’re lucky you’re so cute,” you huffed. “I might have thrown something harder than a pillow if you weren’t.” “You’re so mean,” he laughed. “But anyways. When should I say we can meet up?” “I don’t have anything going on this week, is she in town?” “I think so,” he nodded. “Why don’t we call her?” “Go for it,” you smiled. “I haven’t talked to her in ages.” Harry grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts before he clicked on one. “Hi!” he chirped, his phone pressed to his ear. “Yes, I know it’s been three weeks- hey now! Don’t be mad at her, it’s my fault.” He paused, a sheepish smile coming over his face. “How is it my fault? Well, I may have forgotten to mention it to her. Yes, I forgot for the past five months! I’m very busy, you know. Not- not that I’m too busy to meet you, never too busy for that!” You rolled your eyes at his attempts to smooth everything over. “Harry, give me the phone.” He smiled gratefully, handing the device over to you. “Hi Stevie! It’s good to talk to you, it’s been a while,” you said, looking pointedly at Harry. “Yes, he is kind of a knob.” “Hey,” he pouted. You ignored him. “Yes, we would love to meet up sometime. You have no idea how excited she is, she talks about you all the time. She loves listening to your songs.” “Really?” Stevie asked. “What’s her favorite?” “Her favorite? Probably Rhiannon.” “Does she twirl?” “Of course she twirls,” you smiled at the memory of her and Harry, spinning around until they fell down giggling. “She asks us to play the spinning song every day.” “Do you think we could get together this week?” “I think that would work,” you nodded. “How does Thursday sound? You could come over for lunch?” “Sounds great. I’m excited to meet her!” “Us too. Have a good day, we’ll see you soon!” Once you hung up, you sighed at Harry. “See how easy that was? All I had to do was say “hey, let’s meet up Thursday.” I cannot believe you forgot for five months.” He held up his hands. “It’s not like I did it on purpose!” You rolled your eyes playfully. “It's a good thing you have me. You are the most forgetful person I’ve ever met.” He smiled again.

“It’s a very good thing I have you, for more than one reason.” "Stevie, come down here, she's gonna be here soon!" Harry called from the kitchen. "I'm busy!" She yelled back. You and Harry looked at each other in surprise. "What does she mean she's busy?" You asked with a laugh. Harry shrugged. "I should probably go find out." He left you in the kitchen, adding the finishing touches to the meal you had prepared together. A few minutes later, he came back down carrying Stevie over his shoulder. She was arguing with him as he walked, going on about something you couldn't quite understand. "She was busy with a tea party," Harry informed you, turning Stevie right side up and setting her in a chair at the table. "Ah," you smiled. "I was having a very big party," Stevie told you, looking very serious. "And daddy made me leave." "Did he?" You asked, your eyes going wide. "Well, he actually had a very good reason to pull you away. Do you know who's coming here today?" "Who?" She asked, becoming very curious. "Do you remember the song you like to spin to?" "The spinning song?" She asked excitedly, face lighting up. You nodded. "It's called Rhiannon. And the lady who sings it? Her name is Stevie, just like you!" "Just like me?" Stevie grinned. "We have the same name?" "You do!" Harry said. "We named you after her, because we love her so much." "As much as me?" She asked. "Not quite that much," Harry laughed. "But we like her a lot. And today, she's coming over for lunch so you can meet her!" "She is?" Stevie gasped excitedly. "Can we spin together?" "You'll have to ask her," you smiled. "But I think she would love to spin with you." Stevie beamed, then looked up quickly when the doorbell rang. "Is she here?" she asked excitedly. "I think she is!" Harry said, matching her excited tone. "Let's go see!" He picked her up, walking to the door. soon you heard their voices coming down the hallway, directing your guest to the kitchen. "Hello," You greeted Stevie with a smile, moving across the room to hug her. "It's been way too long!" "It has," she said with a pointed look at harry. He grinned sheepishly. "Why don't we have lunch? Is it time for lunch?" "The food is ready," you laughed. "Stevie, you can sit wherever, we don't really have assigned seats or anything." "I think I'll sit by little miss Stevie, if that's alright with you?" She asked the toddler. Stevie nodded excitedly, pointing at the chair next to hers. "You can sit right next to me!" Lunch went by quickly, with all of you catching up and laughing over (little) Stevie's fascination at having the same name as someone else. "Stevie, do you spin?" your daughter asked. "I do, sometimes," the woman laughed. "Do you?" "I love spinning!" she said excitedly. "Can we spin right now?" "If your mom and dad are ok with it, we absolutely can," she smiled. Stevie looked at Harry with wide eyes. "Can we daddy?" Harry looked at you smugly. "See? She asks me, because she likes me more." You rolled your eyes playfully. "That's because you never say no to anything she asks you." Harry ignored you, turning back to the two Stevies with a smile. "I think that would be lovely." He pulled out his phone, connecting it to the speakers in the living room, and started Rhiannon. The two of them laughed excitedly, running into the other room. You smiled at harry, beginning to gather the dishes and bring them into the kitchen. Harry helped you, loading things into the dishwasher and wiping off the table. Once everything was finished up, Harry wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head. You rested your hands on top of his over your stomach, smiling as he rocked you back and forth gently. "I hope this was as good as you thought it would be," you said. He hummed softly. "It was, probably one of the best days of my life," he said, tilting his head to kiss your hair. "Thank you." A loud laugh from the other room interrupted your little moment, and you pulled away with a smile. "Let's go see what they're up to."

Harry grinned, taking your hand and leading you back to the living room.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harrystylesxyou #harry styles x you fanfiction #harrystylesxreader #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction #harry styles/y/n fanfiction #harry styles/y/n #dad!harry #stevie fics

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persephoneyss · 4 years ago

Text

The Monster.

Pairing: park jimin x f!reader.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, anguish.

Summary: ❝You can be reborn like spring, but your nightmares will follow your footsteps at night.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, voyeurism, Jimin is a little delusional, implicit murder, death threats, a little violence, stalking, death of secondary characters, reader idolizes his mother, humiliation.

Number of words: 6000+

︙ Author's note: this is my first fic here, sorry if there are errors. My first language is not English and I don't speak it fluently either, so I used the translator. Sorry about that. I hope you enjoy it, I am open to criticism. Thanks!

(Puedes leer este y más fics aquí en español.)

To block.

Your mind felt strangely familiar, like it was processing the same situation all over again. And then the same thing happened again.

Blocking.

You never noticed those little details, invisible to the eyes of others. Or maybe you took too seriously the message and advice that your mother always told you when you were afraid of being left alone in your room because of the obvious and silly repetitive story of the monster under the bed, you were crying looking for your mother's room in the middle of the night. You were looking for refuge in her arms. However, the only loving words she had for you were: "Ignore him and he will go away, darling."

It seemed very clever to you, you began to close your eyes ignoring your worst fears and in a short time you could do what most children could not at your age, sleep alone in the dark.

Your mother was wise, maybe that's why you never understood why your father left her overnight. She never commented on the subject and little by little it was forgotten in her daily lives. Your father never existed, you never saw him again.

In his small town no one was exceptionally well known, unless he had done something good or bad enough to be called a hero or, in the same way, a villain. You were barely seven years old when it happened, a family with a lot of money had chosen your town as a decent land, enough to build their luxurious house where their children who came from golden cradles would grow up. According to the gossip, they were foreigners coming to invade their town and rule it, when in reality the Parks never got more involved in politics than necessary.

They were just rich, spending money.

Young women from all over the world and even from other distant towns came every day to try to conquer the privileged children of the great mansion built finely and strategically in the middle of the main square. The young women were beautiful, many times you stood at the door of your house admiring their distinguished perfect faces and you wondered if the children of the Park family were really worth it so that young and beautiful women who had previously been rejected would come back again. in search of new opportunities.

Your mother sometimes stood next to you with a smile and released another phrase that ended up marking your style of thinking, her voice sounded so ethereal: "Money compensates for external beauty, plus the dignity that you lose to those who possess it, it will never have a price."

Your lost look made her smile beautifully badly, then that same sweet voice that taught you things that other women would see as irrelevant, she too moments later she orders you to come home to eat. You thought about it so much, your mother was beautiful, she could remarry if she wanted to. However, she never did, or at least until that day.

You were poor, you were never afraid to accept it. You noticed it almost immediately, when you saw other children playing with toys that seemed impossible that you will ever possess, your mother was friends with the one who was best friends with your father, a carpenter who seemed to be very kind. He always gave you toys that came out with small defects and he couldn't sell, he was a good man until he seemed to misinterpret the situations and her relationship with your mother, unexpectedly asking her to marry him. Obviously you had to stop seeing him after the rejection. However, you were stubborn like the woman who gave you life, almost every day after finishing school you walk two streets to her local.

"How is your mother? Any suitors who weren't rejected the first time?" You laughed, helping him finish his last job. You shook your head, Peter was always very nice and honestly funny, you still didn't understand how your mother could reject them, but you never got into adult affairs. You were just an eight-year-old girl.

"She still misses dad." You whisper trying to drive a nail into loose wood, before being interrupted by Peter.

You look curiously at his downcast face of hers, as if she was keeping something deep within himself. But he quickly changes his expression as well as the subject. "Very good girl, no more help for today" he says, removing the dangerous tools out of your reach, you let out a exhausted sigh wanting to help him. Deep down you felt guilty. "How are you doing in school? I heard that the Parks will start a new campaign to help more in the education of the children, maybe you can see someone from the family up close."

You move your head in distracting affirmation playing with a piece of wood, Peter watches you for a moment and then sighs. You really were special, and if I could tell what happened to your father, you would let go of that glow for sure.

The following days passed in the same way, there was only a radical change in your routine. Now they forced you to stay longer in school so that you could take art classes with the children of the Park family. You had heard many mothers talking to yours about how handsome they were, and since their daughters would undoubtedly have a chance with Jimin, who was the eldest son and of course the first-born heir, you thought for a long time about a tall man with more years than all those young women who hallucinated with the perfect millionaire husband. However, it was all an illusion. Jimin was not a man, he was a seventeen year old teenager.

Perhaps the young woman who did win him over would be very lucky to marry someone her own age and not a bitter old man who only had money. Jimin was everything, young, handsome and a millionaire, the best bet of any woman.

His first class was alongside his current teacher, introducing each child in the Park family. They were all very handsome, but Jimin seemed to shine brighter than the stars in the dark night. You wondered if his younger siblings would become jealous of him, it would be an interesting concept considering you had no siblings.

Your hands moved the clay very patiently, your classmates seemed to enjoy these classes and they were undoubtedly fun.

"What a beautiful flower ..." You smiled nodding, no one would ever think that someone like Jimin would be delighted with the common drawing of any girl. Her gaze traveled around your pure and innocent face, as if she couldn't get enough of you. She sat next to you, admiring how your hands continued to play with the dough creating new shapes and I certainly enjoyed every second.

She had never met someone who would attract so much attention from her, you were ethereal. Jimin was immediately drawn to you, your gaze clear as daylight and your soft features, maybe you were just a girl but you seemed to tempt his attention incredibly badly from him. He felt the strange sensation of making sure you were okay, safe, probably in his arms.

He followed you closely, always arriving at the same time. Her mother used to say that Jimin was very irresponsible, she never complied with the basic principles of being a Park: Discipline, order and punctuality. Jimin was different, his siblings may have fulfilled those three bases just to give what they wanted to their parents and receive more affection from him, but not him.

Jimin was obsessive. Impulsive, and he had self-control issues.

The biggest dangerous trait that his parents noticed since he was little, is that he suffered attacks of anger against anyone without caring about the consequences of this. More than three of his babysitters claimed that little Jimin had hit them, slapping and shoving them. But all of this was radically ignored by the Parks, who turned a deaf ear claiming that their son was simply too controlling, and in a way, he was. Jimin liked to have everything under control, at his disposal.

Jimin found himself fascinated with your little eyes looking at him without fear and, even though it was painful for him, without love. For you, he was nothing more than a stranger. He tried to change that, sitting next to you every day and talking to you a few times when he could get more than two sentences out of you. He liked art, I could tell by the way you focus too much on a small painting of an insignificant tree.

If you liked trees, Jimin could buy a forest for yourself.

You loved roses, he could plant thousands in every corner of town.

Or maybe, your obsession with the smell of vanilla. Jimin went wildly for the most expensive vanilla scented lotion, hoping for some praise from you and he really didn't fail.

No, when the next day he sat next to you and your gaze turned to him with a kind smile. "It smells great, Mr. Jimin." Your soft tone and your minimal compliment was enough to make his entire body shake, his hands began to sweat and his voice seemed to falter. It was amazing how you managed to make him so nervous, while he was still a child.

"Y-do you like it?" She asked even knowing the answer, your head bobbing in a quick nod and an even bigger smile adorns your features.

You put your painting aside for a moment to continue responding, Jimin feels elated to see that his plan worked. Now you're just looking at him, as it always should be. "It smells like vanilla, I like vanilla." You say honestly.

"I see, I also like vanilla." You seem shocked, Jimin increases the tension of him fearing that he said something wrong. He really wasn't lying, maybe vanilla wasn't something he used constantly but he didn't dislike it either, he was just disguising and embellishing a crude truth.

And before long, Jimin feels his life take an unexpected turn, people had started to notice his closeness to you. They called him an angel when in reality he was a devil, rumors and silly praise that he would be a good father were not lacking and the young women who came to his door every day to look for a date with him increased in an exorbitant way. You were oblivious to all that, clearly. However, you could not ignore all the looks that fell on you when you accompanied your mother to the market, as from one day to the next you became someone important just because you were the focus of attention of him Mr. Jimin, as you used to call him with respect. Peter also suffered the consequences of this, you had not stopped going to his store and the young women looking to conquer Jimin or at least get his attention began to follow you wanting to win your affection so that you will speak well of them with their desired man, no you were interested in what they could offer you but the biggest problem was that they did not like to receive a clear 'No.' as a reply.

They were insistent and often annoying. They followed you closely, even when you went to school or to visit Peter who now only went twice a week, you did not want to go out and have to face the pity that it gave you to see many beautiful young women begging for a vague love and that I was looking for more money arrangements than anything else. Also, not all of them had good intentions with you. Your mother made sure of your safety in the face of any incident, and with that came her last word, her strict order not to approach Park Jimin again until he found a wife.

The rest would be history.

He would surely forget you and start forming his own family, having his own children and likewise, looking for his own problems. Instead, that never happened. Jimin had discovered your plan, he was angry, he couldn't believe that you were ignoring his attempts to approach you in such a way. Your attitude was so pure but you were hurting her so much.

He was delusional, she knew he was. But he didn't want to stop. So, he did the only thing that would make you stay by his side.

You felt strangely calm, you had been to and from school with no one following closely in your footsteps. Until you noticed that the whole town seemed to look at you with superiority, with caution. Peter never stopped taking care of his store, however, that day it was closed. You gave little thought to that coincidence, walking home with slow steps. Deep down you were scared.

Maybe you thought you could feel it, in front of your house a crowd of people lay watching the most unexpected marriage request. Your mother was uncomfortable, you could tell by how her face was distorted, and how her hands seemed to shake for reasons not yet known to you. You watched in horror as Jimin knelt before her with a smile pulling a ring out of a small red box.

For a moment, you thought about your father. You felt strange, you always wanted to have a warm fatherly hug but it made you uncomfortable to imagine Jimin occupying that place, you did not want him, you did not love him as a daughter to his firstborn or as another similar relationship. He was a stranger.

Your body fell into the seat reserved especially for you, your eyes observed any place in the church trying to disperse your mind. Your little shoes brushed against each other, your hands rested on the wooden seat waiting for the wedding to end as soon as possible. You never wanted to oppose your thoughts to the idea of your mother falling in love or getting married again, you really didn't care much as long as that person was good for her.

However, he was Park Jimin. You felt disgusted when her mother looked at you from afar with despicable eyes, just as anger consumed you when Mrs. Park tried to embarrass your mother in front of everyone. You didn't ask for this, nobody asked for it.

Maybe you spent too much time thinking around you to notice that Jimin was unhappy. A little upset. He had done what he had to do, chained you to him in some twisted way, marrying your mother and he felt happy, at first. I could see you walking through the church, you were wearing a little white dress to match your mother's and for a sinister moment I imagine that you were the one walking towards him to be named his wife. But he quickly came back to reality, you weren't his fiancée. You wouldn't be his wife.

Deep inside him, he knew how gross it was to feel like this.

Your mother's eyes reflected how unhappy she was, her gaze was uncertain. Jimin smiled seeing how you kicked the decorations that fell to the ground, you were completely oblivious to everything and more to the look of her that she followed you closely. Many called him a good father. Seeing nothing but his protective attitudes, but under the circumstances there were only hints of what might come next. You weren't allowed to leave Jimin's house, his father had left the mansion where his whole family used to live.

Mrs. Park could find no better excuse to leave than the sudden tantrum of her first-born son for marrying an older woman, a widow, and a daughter. This is a mockery and disgrace to her family's last name. Jimin just let her go, he wasn't even there the day her mother boarded the first train to her grandmother's house.

Your mother flatly refused to leave her house at first, she did not want to leave the little cabin that your father had built with his own effort so that both of them would live there and in the future raise their children, you always lived there and you did not want to leave either. But you never had a solid vote, your mother ended up agreeing from one day to the next, you did not know how Jimin managed to change his word so suddenly. Maybe there was never one reason, but you became all of them.

You were painfully present at all times. You observed how little by little, the wispy and wise glow that your mother possessed was getting lost between her empty eyes and her bent body, her head was never raised as she taught you it should be. She was a stranger, you felt scared in her presence. You remembered very well how her face seemed to light up when she saw you coming home from school and how she taught you something new every day.

"Mommy..." You spoke, your hands were still busy with the picture that you hadn't finished painting. But curiosity began to attack your mind.

Your mother came out of the kitchen with a little gray apron, she smiled when she saw you sitting on the floor. "Yes, honey?"

"Why do people get married?" Your gaze lifted from the sheet of paper, wincing at her glowing eyes.

"It depends, it's not necessarily for love. Maybe for money, comfort or ..." her voice trailed off, she still staring at you she leaned down to take your face in her hands. "Because they found someone, as cute as you!"

"Mommy ... I want to marry you!" Your mother began to laugh, your gaze traveled all over her face, joyful of hers and for a moment, you swore that you would hate anyone who dared to take away the great happiness of a genuine smile.

You finished your drawing, just in time because the front door echoed through the entire cabin. Your father appeared with a small drawer in his hands, your mother seemed to be illuminated with an angel when she saw him enter with a kind smile. Both were such for which. They were, more than lovers and husbands, lifelong best friends. Your life seemed to have something that many do not get even after death.

An outer and inner peace. It was perfect.

Almost so perfect, it wasn't true. White roses were always your favorites. However, you began to detest its soft light petals when it seemed that all the townspeople bought the same bouquet of white roses for the funeral of your, now, deceased mother. You took a seat next to her grave, ignoring everyone's greetings and goodbyes, who apparently forgot how her criticism of her increased even as the days, months and years of her wedding with Jimin passed.

You couldn't blame anyone. Or you just didn't want to.

Because the rope around his neck was not placed by them. And the multiple scars on his wrists weren't his marks. A small part of you felt helpless, angry and respectively, disgusted with yourself. Could you help her? Yes. No. Maybe if you had ... And he had stayed in the past.

The little white rose in your hand fell to the floor, everyone had left the room to go to the large buffet served at the reception. You froze, then with the same rage you began to step on the already dead flower at your feet, the petals of it were no more than a pure color, now they were disgusting and dirty. Jimin appeared minutes later, your gaze fell on his hand that was holding a black and a red rose.

"We should go, honey." He whispered as if afraid to scare you even though you were already looking directly at him. Your immobile figure instinctively ran into his arms, which greeted you with an incredibly loving warmth. The roses were placed on top of the coffin, a smile spread across your face when you saw the color red stand out against so much white, and for a second you came to compare the beauty of an outstanding color with your mother.

She stood out in a world where everyone wanted to paint themselves pure white.

Jimin was even more welcoming to you now. He pretended to sleep waiting for 11:30 to arrive so that he could hear your footsteps on the way to his room, you had developed a great amount of fear of loneliness. Jimin knew you always did that, but before it was with her instead of him. You would walk for several seconds looking in the dark for his room, which was next to hers, then I would always hear her voice singing for you, making you rest in his arms. For a long time, I want to be her. But now he was gone and I knew it was a matter of time before your steps stopped at his door.

She loved the closeness of your body to hers, how your hands clung to her nightshirt when you were cold or a horrible nightmare was projected into your dreams. Jimin horribly wishes he could see beyond your dreams, although that would be disrespectful to your privacy, he wouldn't mind breaking your trust too much if he could be sure that you would never walk away from him, even in your dreams.

He managed to chain your life to his, your scared look was the most beautiful thing I have seen before. I want to touch your little face and kiss your soft lips that tempted him every time the word "dad" came out of it.

Time was his greatest enemy.

Your presentation was no better, your hands were trembling again while your feet moved from here to there restlessly. Jimin just watched silently, but the distance between you and him was gigantic, he just wished that the damn bitch that was presented before him would shut up and leave his house. It was remarkable how you seemed angry, maybe it's jealousy, she has feelings for me. He thought sickly, a smile spreading across his face discreetly at his incoherent thoughts of him. The young woman sitting on the sofa in front of him smiled thinking that her talk had caused some pleasure in the young and widowed man.

Jimin admired her face, she was very cute, also she seemed to have good manipulation technique in people. She noticed it quickly when she walked through the door, her smile that seemed uncontrollable and genuine lit up his childlike face. He took a few seconds, he knew he shouldn't do it but he couldn't help comparing the woman to you. You were shorter, you were obviously younger and your gaze was more pure. Jimin was proud of your firm stance, knowing that in the two years since your mother's death you had developed a closer connection with him, and likewise, you were a beautifully perfect copy of him. Your hard gaze and your legs crossed with each other showed your firmness, and your silent opinion.

You wanted the fucking bitch sitting across from your stepdad outside your house.

You laughed at the very idea of one day finding a really good replacement for your mother. You couldn't replace a rose with bad herbs. For you, as selfish as he was, Jimin was your father, and he was your mother's love from the day he married her. No one would replace his position.

It was all three of them, and a part of your mind conned that Jimin still wasn't over the love he had for her. Or he would have remarried long ago, when the young women stood in front of the door of his house asking for a date with him. In those moments you didn't care, Jimin was a stranger, but now he was your father and you were his only daughter. No one had the right to ruin their harmonious relationship, they were both alone and someday serious like him.

You will be successful, you will make a lot of money and you will be able to marry someone you love.

But for now, your gaze fell on the little worn and dirty shoes of the woman in front of you. A smile crossed your face, your gaze lifted surprising the woman. While Jimin waited with his arms crossed for your following action.

"Woman." Your voice seemed to cut her tranquility, her face lost total color of life and a small grimace of fear passed over her fragile face. "I can't allow shoes like that to step on the carpet in my house ..."

The woman looked at Jimin who seemed indifferent, distracted by the painting on the wall.

"I'm sorry miss" she whispered trying to remove her shoes, his hands seemed more clumsy than usual. Her face burned when your hand moved closer to hers to prevent any further movement.

"Go away." A tiny part of you felt sorry for his embarrassed face and flushed cheeks. But it quickly came to your mind that she thought she was good enough to believe she was your mother. When she couldn't even challenge a stupid girl who acted like a spoiled brat. "Get out of my house, or I'll have to ask you not to just take off your shoes."

"I-sorry, I'll go now-..." A sob interrupted her dialogue, her hands searched for the notebook she was carrying but she gave up making a quick bow to Jimin and running outside.

The garden was your favorite part of the big house, the walls constantly made you believe that you were going to be eaten by them. Every day you came out of your lair admiring the many roses of many different colors growing beautiful and healthy. Your school stage was about to begin and you did not want to neglect your garden, which was also a tribute to your late mother.

So you hired a gardener. You were seventeen years old and soon to be eighteen. To say that you managed to experience the best of all those years was ridiculous, and deep down inside you, you thought that all of that was possible because of all the things Jimin did for you.

You had a debt, which you planned to pay in the future. You thought about leaving and letting him have a quiet life from now on without having to run to solve your problems, even if you never asked him to.

Jimin had eyes watching your every move, he clearly remembers how he put security cameras throughout the house, observing how you slept, what you did in the comfort of your room and privacy. Even when you walked into the shower and your hands ran over your body covered in water. Sometimes he felt guilty, for how he seemed to enjoy those moments that seemed so short.

However, it was repeated that as long as you were safe.

Breaking your trust wasn't that important.

Your eighteenth birthday was moderately quiet, Jimin was not used to throwing parties, and honestly, you never asked for one. So you just stood at the door of your house receiving expensive and cheap gifts from people who when they gave you the gift had a forced smile that told you many things. Most were familiar faces, of women who had previously sought a date with your father, obviously being rejected.

The little birthday cake looked so monotonous, the candles were the only thing you could stand out for. You were never aware that you had started to be privileged and extremely ambitious since Jimin proposed to your mother and forced her to marry him, pointing a gun at her pathetic silly little head. You had it all, and in your previous years maybe you managed to get excited about the new toys and accessories that were brought to you from other countries, you had everything that others did not, and a strange epiphany collapsed over you.

It was you, it was déjà vu. You were them, and those who were before, were now you.

You had all of them, and they didn't. Now, by your side, they were all poor. Jimin showered you with gifts, causing you to gradually lose interest in money. You remember your thoughts when it all started and likewise, you still remember the woman with the dirty shoes. You will be successful, you will make a lot of money. It was what you thought in the future for yourself, but now that was it, in a nutshell. Completely boring. You stayed for a moment thinking about them under the watchful eye of your stepfather who tried not to smile when you saw you, you were an adult now and he could finally take you as his own. They would be husband and wife, as it should have been from the beginning of its history.

And you will be able to marry someone you love. You still had only one option left, you blew out the candles with a single sigh causing Jimin to clap his hands and approach you to hug you fondly. The maids behind you only blushed when his boss started showing all of his affection. They weren't used to seeing him so often, Jimin had a firm and tough stance with everyone but he seemed to become as soft as clay in your presence. You came to mold Jimin in your favor, making him a cold person in front of his own demons and then, you left yours.

"I want marriage proposals, father." A gasp came from the mouths of the maids who just immediately fell silent. Lowering their head as they were taught. "I am ready to get married."

Jimin hummed still keeping his arms around you, your body was trapped in theirs. Your skin burned when his fingers squeezed your skin, leaving permanent marks. There was no reaction from you, you were used to this kind of unexpected treatment and it just didn't hurt.

"Get married?" His arms pulled away from you in disgust, there was no other reaction either. Jimin taught you not to object unless you knew you should. Stay calm and you will win. "And can you tell who would want to marry you? Useless little girl."

"Useless?" Your low voice seemed to make him happy for a moment.

Quickly his hands took the utensils to cut the cake, with a soft and sweet voice he continued: "Honey, men do not look for a girl with a lot of money like you. They look for someone to tame, and you, you could easily crush everyone with a wave of your hands."

A piece of the cake perfectly positioned on the plate was placed in front of you, a sob escaping your lips. You were really pathetic, eh? You clearly wanted to live something that has been claimed many times. You weren't going to get married, not without having it all like Jimin said. Then, you would lose everything and go back up to crush the others with greater pleasure.

"Aren't you going to eat? It's your cum-..."

"I will go to a neighboring town, I will finish my studies there."

Jimin looked down at his plate, ignoring how you got up from the table and put your cake aside. Then, your sweet voice finished destroying his self control that he thought he mastered long ago.

"I never liked that cake taste."

And it was the end.

You went back to the start again. You were planning to leave tonight, your bags were ready. Everything you needed was never in that house, it was never him. They were those that never existed in your present continued.

Your shoes did not seem to contrast with the dirt on the town's floor, you were also aware that those would end up in the trash. You didn't care, they were just shoes Jimin bought for your birthday, insignificant.

People were observant, and often foul-mouthed. It was no different than they spoke far from you or close to you, yet their mouths moved in a fussy way exaggerating reactions and creating new lies.

"_____...?" Your posture was decreasing, you no longer had to pretend. A smile covered your face, framing many emotions in one. "Come in please, it's your house."

Peter stepped aside, leaving room for you to enter. Your hands trembled but this time from cold, you still did not get over the harsh winter that suddenly passed. You took your shoes off quickly, briefly forgetting that this was no longer your home. You had sold the little cabin at a minimal price, and you were even happier when it was Peter who chose that place as his future home to live with his wife and his future child. Now he had two more. The little children ran in the tiny room playing with each other, a feeling of nostalgia invaded you when you saw them. You used to do the same before, together with your parents.

Those moments.

"Glad to see you around here, daughter." Peter hadn't changed, he was still the same kind and understanding person as ever. The opposite of you, of course. "Do you want to have tea? I heard on the streets that you would go to study far from here."

"Coffee, please." You responded still reluctant to talk about your departure.

Peter just laughed at your exaggerated denial, nodding and leading into the kitchen. You took a seat at the small table looking around. "You didn't change the decoration."

"Uh? ...." He seemed surprised by your observation, but he quickly smiled. "No. Actually, I think I liked it from the beginning how your ... er ... your mother decorated it. Besides, my wife loved it too. For her, it's beautiful as spring."

"Spring?" You ask, avoiding looking at it. You look down looking for some reason not to feel sad, in a way, you had compared your mother to spring as well. However, Jimin said that you were his. You never liked being called a light, because you always tried to be in your mother's shadow. And you liked it. "She believed that she is very wise, my mother was like spring."

"Thanks." A voice whispered from behind, your gaze fell on her and her face very much like your mother's. But they were obviously completely different. "I never doubted that you were just as wise. Spring represents the new beginning, a new beginning. Did you manage to find yours?"

Peter tried to intervene, clearly noticing the way his wife was trying to make you talk about your life after your mother died.

"I did. That's why I'm leaving here tonight."

"I'm glad we all need to be born again at some point."

You affirm with a small movement of the head, concentrating your gaze on the coffee cup in your hands. The smoke fell directly on your face hiding your grimace of disgust. Nobody deserves to talk about her like that yet.

"Ok, honey." Peter began by sitting across from you, with a cup of green tea and a serene expression. "Are you planning to go alone or with someone? I heard that travel today is very dangerous."

"Actually, I am accompanied by an acquaintance. His name is Jungkook, he also planned to leave and started working for me as a gardener to get the necessary money. We became good friends." You spoke remembering the adorable smile of the young man, he used to accompany you everywhere you went as if his job was to protect you. At first it was cute, but then it was annoying. Even after all that, you preferred to travel with him rather than alone.

"Oh that's very nice. I'm glad you managed to meet your goals. Good luck."

Your goals?

"Thanks, Peter."

His gaze lingered on your face for a moment, then he seemed to remember something very important. She gave you a smile before getting up to leave the kitchen.

"I have something for you, you are old enough to know this."

It was an envelope. Common and ordinary, but its envelope was beginning to deteriorate, showing that it was an old and very reserved letter.

You questioned your decision but took it, not wanting to read it in front of anyone even more when you read who wrote the letter.

You sat on the small wall, the trees and the cool breeze boosted your adrenaline. Small pieces of paper fell to the ground. So, you weren't thinking correctly at those times.

"I only married a man that I loved in all my life, I was happy. I had a daughter. I lived years of solitude and then, I was chained to an empty love."

"I know what you're reading this now. You're weak, darling. Maybe that's what made us mother and daughter. Because from the beginning I never had the courage to tell you that Jimin put a ring on my finger and a gun to my head. Or maybe, I was weak when I didn't get in the way of his errand, I should have told him that I hated him and that he could put a bullet in my head before giving it to my daughter. And maybe, I should have told everyone who passed by me that He was the same one who murdered my husband, he never left. I made you believe that. You never asked. "

"I saw you so happy today, you were running between the garden and the wedding. I could see his gaze following your hurried steps, I was almost completely sure that he was trying to get closer to you at all times. I told the woman next to me, But she shut me up saying that I can't be jealous of a father and daughter relationship. You weren't her daughter. She also ordered me to let them create a closer relationship, because I already had Park Jimin's heart in my hands. Liars."

"I always loved your curious voice. You used to ask me everything, and why everything was like that. But lately, I don't know what to answer. Why am I crying? Why is there a dark stain under my eyes? Why is there blood in the bathroom? Why did I never ask for help? I see you worry and you don't let me give you affection, because you prefer to give it to me. I also see how I start to bother him, I am a hindrance. Now I understand, I knew it but I never wanted to accept that it happened. He was everywhere, and likewise, I was never part of the plan."

"There were only two things I didn't tell you. I love you and my last piece of advice. Honey, lock it up and fly to the start, whenever you feel lost. A fresh start and never forget spring."

You stifled a sob. Covering up your pain. You had not noticed that the night had covered the sky, a dark blue blanket arrived. It took you a long time to assimilate that all the fragments were torn papers, and it was not a letter. It was an envelope filled with, apparently, incomplete sheets torn from a notebook. There was a fragment that was not part of the leaves, but rather was written later.

"Lost parts of a sad widow's diary.

Peter."

They were from your mother's diary. So where was the rest? What actually happened? A message came to your phone, you read it quickly still drying your tears.

JUNGKOOK:

Our trip is in an hour, I hope you said goodbye to everyone.

Received at 7:05 p.m.

I still do not:(

Received at 7:06 p.m.

Along with both messages was an attached picture, a photo of him and his grandmother. Jungkook talked a lot about her, and hers, her brothers. You smile, still wiping the tears from your face.

Your feet moved, the leaves in your hands seemed too heavy. And yet it was something you needed to do.

"Are you at home." His monotonous voice invaded you, he was busy reading a book that rested in his hand. The maid came over leaving a cup of coffee beside him, greeting your presence politely. "I have some things to discuss with you, darling."

"Me too, Jimin." It was the first time you had said his name without due respect, he seemed surprised for a moment. But his expression changed to one of happiness, as if he had been waiting for it. "I couldn't say goodbye, I'm leaving today. I think you already know that, though."

"Actually, no. But it's nice to hear it from you."

"I ..." Your voice dried in your throat, a giant doubt fell over you. You didn't want to leave without telling him how much you hated everything about him. His attention, his affection, his smile, his gaze, his voice. Everything about him was disgustingly charming. "I think I'll go get my bags."

Jimin nodded, ignoring your presence. Still distracted with reading him.

"Before you go, can you give me that back, darling?" Your gaze followed where he pointed his finger. Your hand. The leaves were still there.

"It's something of mine-..."

"Oh I don't think so. It really is very easy to threaten someone, just suffice to say that you can put a bullet in their head to make them your obedient little puppets."

"I do not understand your..."

"Me? It was obviously me. I'm surprised you thought your mother would be smart enough to leave a confession letter to her ex-lovers, days before her death. You really had a lot of credit for her." His chatter was accompanied by a laugh. You were paralyzed, shaking in your useless state of shock. "But I will not say that I did not plan, I hoped that you would never have the courage to try to leave my side. And even if that were the case, I knew that you would say goodbye to the only person who reminded you of her. Peter, she has a family. lovely."

Nor did he expect you to have the courage to cheat on him with another man. Oh, the gardener. Poor Jungkook, his body now rested leaving behind your favorite flowers. Jimin bit his lip, another mocking smile peeking out with intensity remembering the cutthroat figure of the innocent but guilty young man.

You were his...

"How can you be so cruel?" The doubt in you seemed to want to keep growing, passing second by second through your head. You weren't sure you could understand that everything that happened in front of you was actually planned by the same person who swore never to leave you alone. The same man who disguised himself as a sheep so he could eat you like a wolf. "Did you kill my mother ?!" Jimin seemed surprised by your desperate tone, he did not expect to be able to unbalance your state so easily.

It was lovely. Certainly.

"No sweetie." He murmured closing the book in his hands, setting it on the table next to the steaming cup of American coffee. "But it would have been exquisite to be the reason for his pain. Unfortunately, it was your father who won that title."

"Where did you get this from? I know she wrote it, and I also know that she would never give it to you knowing what a monster you are." Tears were running down your cheeks like water, you knew you were a mess but Jimin seemed to look at you like you were a perfect work of art.

"I found it." He spoke casually, getting up from his seat. Walking slowly towards your trembling figure. "It was a coincidence, I like casual things. It was a coincidence that you studied at that school, that your mother was a widow, that your father died. That he will make me fall in love with you."

What is your goal now?

"I love you darling."

Escape from the monster.

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mybg3notebook · 4 years ago

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Does Gale love Mystra?

So far in EA, we have been shown that this is complicated to answer: human love is complex as well as the delirious lore of Forgotten Realms.

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were written up to the game version v4.1.104.3536 (Early access). As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information. Written in June 2021.

The number between brackets [] represents the topic-block related to (this post), which gathers as much evidence as I could get.

The narrative is clear until the party scene which, as I stated many times across these posts, it's a scene that feels a bit inconsistent for me (reasonable since it's EA). But if we follow what the game explicitly shows us, we know that if we send Gale to sleep at the beginning of the Weave scene in which he is watching the incantation with the shape of Mystra, he will say:

Gale: Long days, yes. And long, lonesome nights.

If Tav knows that the incantation on his palm is Mystra, Gale will explain:

Tav: [insight] You don't have that look on your face when you're looking at “no one” / There's more to it than that. The figure I saw: she means something to you. Gale: [...] I can’t quite describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her – to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence. [...]

Dev's notes: Passionate. [...] He was recalling Mystra as a lover, but doesn’t say that out loud. [...] Narrator: The Weave evaporates, and as it does so, you realise the night feels suddenly cold and lonesome.

This allows us to infer that, at this moment, Gale is feeling alone and probably very anxious with the oppressing feeling of the "orb" in his chest. The tadpole only increased the number of problems he has, so he resorts to seeing Mystra melancholically. We notice later in the Weave Scene that not having Mystra around increases this feeling of loneliness. The whole scene seems to give us the idea that he still loves her. There is yearning and loneliness in his current situation.

After a moment of passionate description of magic, Gale invites Tav to experience the Weave. The Weave has a particular effect on Gale: "The moment feels intimate. You realise the Weave is making you one." Considering how Gale was feeling while conjuring the incantation, this moment touched him deeply (the narrator implies that this feeling is mutual).

If Tav expresses their romantic interests, Gale will be surprised:

Gale: I.. I didn’t think.. Narrator: You perceive quick-fire gusts of embarrassment, trepidation, and finally.. elation Gale: Sorry, I wasn’t expecting… But it is a pleasant image to be sure! Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome. Dev's notes: Warm, with real affection.

The narrator is giving us meta-knowledge, we can trust in what she says, and we can see that the situation was truly shocking for Gale. These emotional stages described here made me suspect that Gale is a character who has focused for too long on healing his condition, ignoring any chance for romance. His surprise here may confirm that, in my opinion. He feels embarrassment, a feeling that one can interpret as a sign of the surprise of being thrown into a situation he had not seen beforehand (the death protocol and Gale’s conversations show us that he is a character that thinks ahead). It follows trepidation: fear or anxiety about something that he is going to do or experience. Gale is scared of the possibility. Maybe because he is thinking in the danger he is, maybe because he was already burnt by Mystra's attention and having someone else's attention now makes him feel a bit anxious. And then, the final resolution of the process: elation, which is a feeling of great happiness and excitement about something that has happened. Gale is suddenly excited by the possibility. Something he will be thinking about, many times, for the rest of the EA.

Tav: So what did you think about what I pictured when we were connected by the Weave? Gale: Oh, I was surprised. But pleasantly so, just like I said. Amid the madness that has befallen us, it seems almost out of place to think of a kiss/ of a romantic walk. And yet... now more than ever, it's important to recall what makes us human. [if Tav is not human] Well- you know what I mean. A stolen glance- that sudden heartbeat... Sometimes the little things are worth more than kingdoms. They promise things to come.

So romance was not something he had even considered until the opportunity arose (this is why he won't pursue a Tav who didn't show romantic interest towards him). I think that, since he is a character always living on the edge of death, he will take this opportunity to feel “human again”: after all, he follows the concept of "living life to the fullest".

During the Loss (see the post of the "Loss Scene"), we know that losing Mystra was a big blow for him. He regrets his decisions of the past in this scene, and it reinforced the idea that he is the only one to blame for Mystra's loss. There is a yearning for the lost Chosen powers, but Gale's context in the majority of his scenes seem to reinforce the idea that he sought power not as a means, but as a goal itself to be closer to Mystra and Magic. Since we are talking about a wizard, his passion lies in magic itself, in being one with the Weave/Magic/Mystra. A Chosen of Mystra is so entangled with the Weave and magic that when they die, they are part of the Weave itself. This is the level of passion that Gale has for Magic, and since Magic can only be performed by most mortals via Weave, and the Weave is Mystra, the whole three concepts are, in fact, one; and it makes it very difficult from a lore point of view to separate them.

Tav: There's something I don't understand. If Mystra abandoned you, how can you still cast magic? Gale: The Weave is still here, all around us – inside of us too. As long as the goddess lives, magic is a tangible thing for those who know how to touch. I've studied magic for many years, and in as many ways I am still a more than capable wizard. It's just that I'm no longer able to perform those feats even arch wizards would marvel at. To have one hand on the pulse of divinity. You have to remember that the Weave is a living thing, both the embodiment and the extension of Mystra herself.She can give and she can take away. I'm afraid I'm still very much on her naughty list. Consider yourself lucky you're not.

I personally think Gale will never stop being devoted to Mystra (and won't stop loving her in many ways), because his passion for magic and knowledge is his own life, and Mystra IS those things. He loves magic for the sake of it. So losing this unique contact with magic itself that only Chosen of Mystra have was a terrible punishment for him. His abandonment issues are not just the result of a “guy being left by a girl”. They have an extra complexity because of the nature of Magic in this world and how its deity behaves with her chosen. Gale was not only abandoned by Mystra, but was also removed of a good amount of his capacity to perform magic. If magic “is his life”, the abandonment removed a part of his life away. I think some people miss this point, because, once more, it's related to Forgotten Realm lore and not Dragon Age. Many of these people keep constantly comparing this situation with Dragon Age, which has nothing to do with it. Dragon Age has no wizards, their relationship with Magic is natural, it’s sorcerer-like if we want to compare it, and the relationship with their deities (mostly absent, silent ones) are nothing alike the ones in Forgotten Realm. The context is key, as I repeated several times in these posts and in the one about "Context, persuasion, and manipulation".

Tav: I don't know what to make of what you've told me, but I sympathise. Gale: Thank you. [no romantic weave] I want you to know that you’re a good friend. [romantic weave] I often think of that moment we shared together – one under the Weave. I hope you think about it too. /I'm glad to know you think about it too.

Narrator: You sense a moment of unspoken affection. You want to know where it may lead. Gale: I consider myself very lucky to have found you Tav: I think perhaps we could be more than friends Gale: Perhaps.

Tav: You said you think about the moment we shared under the weave. Do you think about it often? Gale: Do you? 1-2-Tav: Yes / From time to time. Gale: So do I. 3- Tav: Not really. Gale: And yet you ask. I do, as a matter of fact.

Gale: You see. I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. You're one such event that one day soon perhaps I'd like to embrace.

So after sharing this regret during the Loss scene, Gale will show affection if Tav remains friendly during the Weave (but Gale will never directly engage it, he is waiting for Tav to give the first step; understandable if we consider he also has a dangerous bomb in his chest, so he may be torn between wanting to, but knowing he should not to). If there is no interest in pursuing romance, he will show a gesture of gratitude for being a good friend during that night of regrets.

If pursuing the romance, we can interpret that Gale, at this point, even though he is still struggling with all the emotions that Mystra inspires, wants to experience something more “human”, a romance with a mortal. We know for sure that Gale is getting interested, slowly, while thinking about it, since in each of the following scenes he will ask (or Tav will ask) about that “moment in the Weave”. He has been thinking about it for many nights, and he is “embracing” the idea.

If Gale is treated with judgement (despite not knowing his whole story) or allowing him to keep the secret of what or who he lost, we will obtain lines likes:

Gale: Good. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding. // And try not to think too poorly of me. A cat can look at a king. A wizard can look at a goddess.

Tav: Another fool pays for his arrogance. A tale as old as time. Gale: Arrogance? Ambition, rather. And ambition is a fine thing – until suddenly it no longer is. Then again, if that is how you judge me, there’s little I can do to change your mind. But know that I have this ambition still. First to save myself, and after that, the licence to dream. (Gale Disapproval)

We could interpret these lines as the only ones so far that may suggest that Gale is still wanting something from the goddess. We know due to the tadpole dreams that Gale’s desire is Mystra. On the comments of the second tadpole dream we know more details about his major desire: it is not just Mystra, but her forgiveness.

Tav: Gale, who is the apparition in your dreams? Gale: She's... It doesn't matter. I just know her to be unreal. Tav: What's impossible about what you're been shown? Gale: Forgiveness Tav: Gale, who is the apparition in your dreams? Gale: It's indeed Mystra I see. And yet it cannot be her. There was a time when I would have believed - but no longer. I told you that I lost her. Lost her favour and lost so many of the powers I took for granted. What magic I can still weave is met only with undercurrents of disappointing silence. Mystra has not changed her mind about me. That's how I know our dreams are delusions.

I think this scene shows the difference between a standard desire for power as a means, and power for the sake of power itself (since this power allows Gale to be one with the Weave). The scene is ambiguous enough to see it as Gale wanting to return to Mystra’s side as well as remaining as an ardent devotee of her (because she is magic herself). I keep repeating that these scenes show that Gale’s most important thing in his life is Magic, which is Mystra: the extension and the embodiment of magic. So his desire for her seems impossible to be extinguished completely. In previous scenes we saw that he certainly had thought through the idea of loving her more like a devotee than a lover, but certainly the weight of being his first love will remain, especially since she is deeply related to magic itself.

During the Party Scene we find some information about his feelings for Mystra.

I personally ponder the book of Amn’s description as very important because, from a narrative point of view, it's a lot of lines/content that, if they were not important, tend to be removed from the script. If they are there, they are meant to be interpreted. For this reason those lines mean to me that Gale has finally embraced the idea of having something important with a mortal. In my post of the "Party Scene" I go into details, but here I will stick to the interpretation related to Mystra: all what Gale numerates in that book are things that he could not access to with a Goddess. Curiously, part of those descriptions are things that make humans human, so I personally think it reinforces Gale's intention in heading into this romance with the eagerness of finding some shelter (never forget the “orb” has a constant oppressing effect in him, increasing his anxiety and fears) and to experience (maybe for the first time) the love of a mortal.

So, for some assumptions made in the post of the "Party Scene", we suspect that Gale needs to share a night to feel confident enough to speak the details of his “orb” condition. Since he wants this relationship to be strong (after all, he implied commitment during the description of the book) he speaks about the true origin of the “orb” immediately after that night, starting with Mystra (which is, after all, the true origin of his folly). Depending on the version that Tav picks, we have extra information provided by Gale about his emotions for the Goddess:

Tav: What did Mystra’s attention feel like? Gale: Love. Perhaps it was not quite love, but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. It was most certainly love to him. [...] One day all too soon, the whispers stopped. The goddess spurned the mortal. [...] and the wizard was left behind heartbroken. Tav: I hate to say it, but he really could have seen this coming Gale: He was blinded by love. Good stories are rife with lovers’ follies after all.

[Short Version] Gale: Before long Mystra tired of me. What was I after all but a mortal plaything in sacred hands? You have to realise I was heartbroken. I was a young man, she was my first love. I thought it would last forever. I vowed to win her back.

[after explaining the mistake of the “orb”] Gale: It is this folly that led Mystra to abandon me completely. I can only hope you won’t abandon me as well. After all we’ve been through.. After the night we spent together. Surely we can brave even this side by side

Gale is giving a very detailed context about his love for Mystra: she was his first love, and the first love tends to have a special weight in a person's life and their memories. That doesn't mean the person has become unable to build more relationships for the rest of their life. If we add the fact that he was very young when all this happened (more details in the Post "Gale Hypotheses- Part 1") we find him under two effects: the impression of the first love and the naivety of the youth. Both elements made him believe it was a love that was going to last forever. With a Goddess, no less.

Besides, Gale expresses this, highlighting his naivety and foolishness: he is aware of how silly he was back then, and how impossible it could be for a mortal to keep the love of a goddess. He is a pragmatic and realistic character, after all. He recognizes in the end that he was just a mortal plaything for her.

I think these pieces of information give us a very clear context of his emotional state: he is still nostalgic for Mystra because of all the reasons I enumerated above; she is also more than just a woman, she is Magic itself. But he is aware that those emotions were the consequence of a very naïve and young self that has awakened by the burden of his own mistakes. There is also a reinforcement of “forever”, which recalls the concept of commitment that Gale pursues so much in his romance: he is not there just for the sex “intimacy”, he is there for serious commitment, maybe because he doesn't want to experience another abandonment. After all, we are talking about a character with a profile that shows abandonment issues (see the post of "Gale Hypotheses- Part 1", section: "Abandonment Issues")

[If rejected] Tav: No. This is too large a betrayal. GALE: I see. I am sorry. I am sorry that it had to come to this. All that’s left to say is farewell. Dev’s notes: hurt but understanding Gale: Farewell. (Leaves) Dev’s notes: A slight hesitation, hurt but understanding. He makes a polite little bow, then we see him walk away.

[If accepted] Gale: I don’t know what I did to deserve the magic that you do.

Despite being terribly cheesy, this last line shows that Gale was more than convinced that Tav would abandon him because he doesn’t deserve Tav. This is why he doesn't put up much fight if Tav chooses to tell him to leave. He will try to make Tav listen to his story, and once it's done, the verdict will fall and he will accept it. He learnt his lesson with Mystra. This line also shows how everything important around Gale is or has to be worded with magic, even a silly metaphor like this is related with the word “magic”: Tav's acceptance is like magic. For him, as important and good as magic itself.

As if that were not enough, after the scene there is a comment in which Gale will reinforce his gratitude for Tav's acceptance:

Tav: If you ever feel the netherese magic overtaking you, what will you do? Gale: If it should ever come to that... if I ever know I am no longer able to stop it... I will do anything I can to ensure no one but me pays for my mistakes. I will find the remotest place on the surface of Faerûn, or perhaps far below in the depths of the Underdark. I will await that death alone. [*] I promise I will not betray your trust... You kept me by your side despite the menace that I am. If worst comes to worst, I will be gone long before the curtain falls. [*] If romanced, Gale will say here "I cherish you."

Which makes me suspect that Gale can disappear at any moment (in full game) if for some game mechanics we are unable to get magical artefacts but the deal with Raphael did not happen (if that’s even possible). But that's just me speculating. Nothing in EA seems to suggest this. What i's clear is that acceptance—that strong concept in the book he put so much emphasis on—is really important to him, so he shows gratitude for that: he promises to protect Tav (and many innocents) from his own mistake. He also says pretty soon an equivalent of “I love you”, in a more formal/meaningful way: “to cherish” is not just to love, but to care/protect as well.

Finally, in case someone lost those hints, or maybe as a consequence of this unpolished scene, we have a direct question with a direct answer:

Tav: Gale, are you still in love with Mystra? Gale: I’ll be honest with you; I don’t know. She is my muse still, the embodiment of magic, but the embodiment of love? Only if we ever meet again will I know

Gale simply says what we have been inferring so far with all the previous information: Gale reinforces the idea that he will remain as a strong, loving devotee of Mystra, because she is magic. I personally don't even consider it possible to remove that love from him. He may not be a cleric, but he loves his deity as one. But he also learnt his lesson that loving gods has its own dire consequences for mortals. He is very aware of it during the discussion about Karsus:

Tav: Nothing good ever comes from mortals wanting to be gods.

Gale: Loving them has its side effects as well. Now, so many centuries later, I tried to follow in the footsteps of Karsus, not to destroy Mystra, but to prove my love for her. It tried to control only a fraction of the magic that was unleashed that fateful day. I merely sought to return one tiny diamond to an imperfect crown. Gale's Folly one might call it. History. Repetition. It's the way things go.

Once more, there is no scene where Gale doesn't reinforce that what he did was a mistake, a foolish action, a Folly.

Finally, if talking about a previous lover immediately after awakening with a new one was of poor taste, Gale acknowledges this, giving an honest apology:

Gale: Before we go on though, do first let me apologise. To share such a night with you only to tell you of a previous lover the next morning... It wasn't the most gentleman-like behaviour. But I had to finally tell you. Silence would have been far worse behaviour still. Nevertheless, I am sorry.

He accepts any rude response or lash-out from Tav without approval penalties. This is an interesting meta-knowledge that speaks about owning up to his mistakes. Unlike the Loss scene, where rude responses made Gale disapprove because Tav was judging him without knowing the whole story [16], in this scene he doesn’t. Now Tav has the whole picture, and he accepts whatever reaction Tav shows. Of course he will approve a forgiving Tav, since Gale is a character very related to forgiveness [12, 12b].

Conclusion:

So, answering the question that gives title to this section: yes. In my opinion, Gale loves Mystra. But it’s not a white-and-black love; it has the complexity of human love mixed with this crazy lore of deities in Forgotten Realms. I believe Mystra will always be part of Gale's life, because the Weave and magic are his life, and she is both. He will always love her as a devotee, even though he now understands the mistakes of his young self and seems more aware of how naive he was when he was a “very young man”. The comments on the second tadpole dreams explicitly show that what Gale wants the most is Mystra’s forgiveness, but at the same time, he knows that he does not deserve it. And this raw realistic view of himself is what makes him understand that those dreams are illusions. During the party scene he is uncertain about his emotions, but still he emphasises that there is a big chance for him to not see Mystra as the embodiment of love any more but reinforces that she will always be the embodiment of magic to him (a very important concept in his character design).

Whether Gale is romanced or not, I don't see a difference in the information he shares on this matter in EA.

This post was written in June 2021. → For more Gale: Analysis Series Index

#bg3 meta #gale #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale

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interact-if · 4 years ago

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The A/PI Heritage Month interviews are coming to a close soon! For Day 8, we have lovely Aster! :chinhands:

Aster, author of Nevermoore

A/PI Heritage Month Featured Author

They say that curiosity killed the cat, but it won’t be satisfaction that’ll be bringing you back. Again. And again. And again.

The simple act of visiting your parents turns into something much more than what you were expecting when your car suddenly breaks down in the middle of nowhere, and you find yourself right beside a small town that’s engulfed by the trees.

Some of the residents you met right away were welcoming enough, happy to try and lend a helping hand when they can. But their smiles seemed more apologetic than happy, and their eyes looked at you with regret.

You never really did understand why that was…

Until you died.

So now, you are an unwilling participant in an endless cycle of death and resurrection. And the more you learn about the bloodstained history of the town and the past of its people, the more you'll get tangled up in a web of secrets that threatens to keep you there forever.

So welcome, newcomer… to Nevermoore.

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: First of all, introduce us to your project! What is it about?

Nevermoore is planned to be is a supernatural story wrapped in a little horror bow about a cursed town that’s both lost to the trees and lost to the ages. Relatively normal lives can still happen there...well, as normal as it gets when not only is aging put to a pause, but dying isn’t even a permanent thing. And the duration of the stay, as far as the town is concerned, is forever.

And unsurprisingly, these effects of the town are barely half of the secrets and mysteries that it holds...But the question is, does the latest new resident that ‘accidentally’ stumbled across it (spoiler alert that’s you) really wants to know what they are?

...Perhaps some things are just better left forgotten.

Q2: If it’s not too spoilery, what are you most excited about your project?

Oh, there’s so many scenes and reveals I want to get to already that it’s hard to choose! But if I had to be specific, the one I’m most excited in writing out is Sterling’s (an RO) backstory! I don’t mean to play favorites or anything, but I like to think that their backstory as having the most Hollywood movie levels of drama and intrigue.

Sterling was honestly the first character I made for this story, even before the MC, so I can’t help myself in having some fun with this!

Q3: What inspired the current project you’re working on?

Believe it or not, Nevermoore’s first iteration was supposed to be a very specific, very self-indulgent AU fanfic of this piece of media I was into back in like, 2014? The drafts of that had remained in my Google Drive, unchanged and unworked on, that is until about two years ago when I discovered the wide, diverse world of interactive fiction.

Inspired to create a story to share with others, I ended up reviving those old documents. The plot and the characters had to be massively overhauled to make it more my own of course, and some inspiration was also been taken from shows like Stranger Things and Dark for their eerie and secretive small-town aesthetics.

Q4: Do you pull from your own identity for inspiration? How has that been reflected in your work?

...Admittedly, not so much. It was an embarrassingly lack of foresight on my part (as a first generation Filipino-Canadian), because it somehow never occurred to me that I can, in fact, add characters who are like me into my own writing. Well, lesson learned. Good news is that I already have some side characters planned who’ll be Filipinothat will show up later on in Nevermoore’s demo, as well as have a Filipino RO in a future wip. The latter of which I am very excited about!

With that being said, I will share that MCs parents in the story are actually loosely based on my own parents who were Filipino immigrants! I won’t elaborate on what parts, but I’m planning on integrating some more of their personalities in the upcoming patch. I really want dedicate those characters to them, since they’ve already sacrificed so much to bring me and my sibling here in Canada to have a better life! :)

Q5: What’s been your experience so far? With writing, with the if community...

There’s no doubt in my mind that getting involved with the IF community has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, despite being incredibly internet shy at first. I’m glad to have meet so many amazing IF writers and readers, and I definitely wouldn’t have gotten as far as I did with my projects if it weren’t for our constant support, help, and hype for each other.

This community has been so wonderful and welcoming, and I can’t wait to see it grow even more!

Q6: Do you have any future projects in the works?

At least three so far, actually! Nothing is fully established yet, just some concepts and vibes. But the genres are high-fantasy, postapocalyptic-ish, and sci-fi.

The first is about a character who’s an aspiring writer (heh) that suddenly finds themselves ‘isekaied’ into the fantasy world of the still-incomplete book they were working on. The second is about an immortal from the dawn of humanity trying to live through the endof humanity ft. zombies(?). And the third is about a volunteer of a cryosleep experiment gone wrong and ends up waking up 1000 years in the future instead. It seems here that my brain won’t let me rest and is telling me to try my hand in as many genres I can haha!

Q7: Finally, what piece of advice would you give to fellow authors?

This is advice that I still have to work on following myself but: Don’t stress too much on your first drafts, it’s called that for a reason! Focus on getting the basic ideas/dialogues/etc down and don’t be afraid to write ‘badly’, since there’s always time for you to polish it into something you’re happy with later on!

Otherwise, you’ll only get into this cycle of editing the same sections over and over, and that can burn you out before you even have the chance to work on the parts you’re actually excited for!

#if: events #Happy Asian and Pacific Islander month!!#Asian/pacific islander month 2021 #a/pi month #a/pi month 2021 #aapiheritagemonth #aapi month #interactive fiction #authors of color

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cozycryptidcorner · 4 years ago

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Kinktober 3: Naga/Semi-public

Tags: naga, semi-public, is there a word for female cockwarming? pussy warming??? idk, uhhh, yeah

You don’t know why you find the upper levels of the library so enticing. Once the archives are closed, no one very much cares to venture up to the near-attic, the scent of carefully dusted wood calming after a day of stressing over whatever class you feel like you’re falling behind in. Up here in the rafters, surrounded by ancient scripture and stories of lands almost forgotten, you can slip out of your mind and focus solely on what you must.

Okay, well, scratch that, maybe you do know why you like it up here. Thunder roars in the near distance, shockwaves of sound vibrating against the windows and stone of the walls. It doesn’t take too much of a temperature shift outside to suck out all the heat through the thin sheet of glass separating you from the raging storm, and by the way a frigid nose pokes beneath your skirt, someone doesn’t find the cold as enticing as you.

With a steady hand, you turn the page of your textbook, eyes scanning the page as a scaled tail wraps around your ankle. Tapping your pen against your notebook, you practically glare at the illustration, trying to ignore the imploring fingers slipping beneath your underwear. All you offer in response is a quick shift of your hips to ease his struggle, his breath almost cool against the wetness between your thighs.

“Malak,” you half-whisper, tangling your fingers in his white hair. “You said you would help me study.”

“I’m cold, baby,” he hums in response, hiking up your skirt further up to your waist. Teeth graze against your inner thigh, nothing more than a playful nip, but it melts your insides down to a boiling point. “Let me warm up first.”

Swallowing thickly, you only turn back to your schoolwork, trying to angle yourself on the chair in a way that lets you spread your legs as far as necessary. Focus, focus, focus, your mind chants as his tongue slowly teases the skin around your lips. Intention when casting runes is just as important as the markings themselves; to fully produce their desired effect, one must-

A burst of pleasure runs up the length of your spine; you have to catch yourself before you let out a sobbing whimper. Malak’s tongue has graced your clit with its presence, his bright blue eyes looking up from under the table with a sly triumph. Clamping your mouth shut, you turn back to your work, trying to focus on making a flashcard with the proper vocab words as he spreads the skin of your pussy out.

Trying to keep your voice steady, you say, “what are the three virtues one must exhibit while casting runes?”

“Clarity,” he kisses your slit, “focus,” another kiss, “and aplomb.”

“Good,” you manage to get yourself under control, taking a sip out of your thermos, “glad to see you’re keeping up.”

He makes a purring noise, flattening his tongue and licking from top to bottom, little sparks of thrill running through your core. Then, just to be infuriating, you think, he lets out a small whimpering noise that sets your entire being on edge. Still, there’s no one around to hear his little show of subjugation, so you decide to let it slide.

Up, down, up, down, a smile on his face as you wrap a leg around his cool back.

Keeping your voice under control, you look over your notes. “What is considered the rune for this modern age?”

He waits for a beat, flicking his tongue against your opening, then says, “Synthetic Moderna.”

You shudder as he delves back down, but you have to nod your head. “Ri-right. What about- what about the Acadian Revival?”

“A period in the nineteenth century revolving around the idea that older magicks were somehow better than modern- do I have that right?” Without waiting for your answer, his mouth closes on the upper part of your pussy, slowly pushing his tongue between your folds, sliding it back and forth against your clit.

You suck in your breath. “Y-yeah, that’s it exactly.” Trying to convince your quivering core that everything is alright and you don’t have to pay attention to what’s happening between your legs, you turn the page, eyes dancing over the chapter for more important information. “And what put the Acadian magic back into obscurity?”

You think you can feel his eyes rolling, but you’re so focused on the letters in your book that you don’t look. “Older magic was useful for the older world. New technologies mean new uses that don’t coincide with those ancient concepts.”

“Yes, that’s- that’s correct.” You don’t understand how he can be so very casual about everything while his tongue slowly probes your entrance, nor could you ever fathom why he might not insist you pay his own body any mind. Still, you suppose that you’re grateful for the release.

“Have I earned my prize yet?” He asks, batting his pale, thick eyelashes at you.

“Not yet,” your chest is tight, your core even hotter. “We need to get through this unit first.”

“Mmph,” he complains against your pussy, taking one of your lips and nipping gently with his fangs.

You don’t want to ask him for any more information, mostly because his face feels awfully nice against your throbbing core, but you also don’t want him to flunk out, no matter how much he seems to know his stuff, he has a nasty habit of not showing up to exams. “Who is an influential figure that began the development of Synthetic Moderna?”

He shivers against your body, tail wrapping up your shin and closing in on your knee. “Alphonsa Rodrigez.”

For being at the mercy of someone hellbent on making you cum, you think you’re doing an outstanding job at ignoring him… until his fingers become involved. Your vision blurs despite your desperate attempts to focus on anything and everything but him. Clearing your throat, you continue, “and what exact discovery did Doctor Rodrigez discover?”

He moans into your pussy, his throat rumbling low and sweet. Now that his fingers are involved, the stroking of your clit doesn’t cease when he looks back up at your face, “isn’t she the one who came up with the three virtues?”

You inhale sharply as he presses his thumb into your slit, but say, “no, she wasn’t the one to finalized the three virtues into mainstream practices… it has to do with the idea of clarity, though.”

“Oh,” he says, realization in his eyes as he offers a kiss to your thigh, “right, wasn’t she involved in the development of neural observation when it came to the actual casting?”

“Ye-Es!” Your voice lilts and almost becomes a whine as Malak, the fucking bastard, closes his mouth around your clit and sucks just as you open your mouth. You clap your hands over your mouth, face red, hoping desperately that no one heard. Judging by the lusty smile on his face, he knows what he did, and you feel the urge to smack him upside the head. ” Malak!”

“Careful, baby,” he says, infuriatingly quiet, “someone might hear you.”

As though the universe heard his words and decided that it would be super funny to turn against you in the worst way imaginable, you hear footsteps. Sucking in air, you’re quick to fix your posture, wrapping your legs around Malak’s neck in the hopes of keeping him still. Despite the hazy layer of sweat on your temple, you think, you hope that you don’t look like… well, like someone is mouth fucking you beneath the table.

“Are you alright?” A head pokes out from the back, eyebrows raised. A grad student you recognize, he’s one of the TA’s in your least favorite class this semester, though you’d never tell him that.

Silently, you thank every god who might have brought the desk you’re sitting at because it’s one of the older fashioned ones, the kind that closes off and hides whatever might be underneath from passersby. Briefly, you wonder if the person who first made them had this exact reason behind it. Malak’s tongue doesn’t give you an ounce of reprieve, working almost harder to flush your face, hoping with all the power in his fingers that you might squeal with pleasure.

But you’re stronger than that, more determined than he, so you offer up a casual smile and a noncommittal shrug. “Sorry, Martin, I saw a spider. You know how I am with those.”

“Ri-ight,” he says, drawing out the center syllable for longer than you would like. Maybe he’s just mocking you for the phobia? “Of course, sorry for interrupting.”

“Oh, I’m just studying-”

“Of course, goodbye.” And just like that, his head ducks back between the books, gone and embarrassed for reasons you don’t want to think about. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a tail poking out from where the wooden board almost meets the floor, thrashing about like in some kind of distress. Or some sort of perverse pleasure.

You don’t have time to feel shameful because Malak is attacking your body with a much more vicious gusto than you had thought him capable of… okay, well, maybe not, but you did think he would at least wait until the study session was over. Steadily, with so little mercy, he sucks on your clit directly; you have to bite down on your hand to keep from crying out.

Even if you offer up a meager question, you know that he’s so focused on your pleasure that he couldn’t be bothered to answer. You’re almost afraid that you might be squeezing his head too tightly, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the least, arm snaking around one of your legs to shift and position however he needs. Out away, then back closer when a chill of coldness threatens his delicate skin.

He’s sucking now, sucking on your clit, except it’s not like those quick, kissing motions; it’s full-on, and your vision tangles with a web of black. Everything in your core is tight, hot, yet Malak is cool enough to tie your body down to the mortal plane, even if he’s relentlessly licking like his life depends on your orgasm. And there, you can feel it coiling in your stomach. You have to bite down on your sleeve lest you start whining like a pup. With your other hand, though, you rake your fingers through his hair.

Now he’s looking at you, crystalline eyes filled to the brim with smug satisfaction. Still, his tongue moves against your lower regions with the skill of a well-seasoned whore, a kind of his own desperation on his face. Almost like his very being depends on your pleasure. He gently pushes a finger into your pussy, curving it slightly to hit that one specific spot, then slowly begins to massage your inner walls, and you are over.

You can feel the beginning of the orgasm creep up inside your core, small tendrils of pleasure reaching out through your nerves. The steady building turns into waves, though, morphing from a modest sort of feeling to something large, bright, and overshadowing everything else. Something slick and hot rushes through your pussy, trickling out and into Malak’s eager and waiting mouth.

The sounds he makes while drinking your cum are obscene, even though he tries to keep quiet, just as you asked. But he doesn’t slow down and instead lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, tongue still licking and mouth continuously kissing despite your body’s slow decline off that high. Everything in your body seems to shut off, muscles relaxing as the final rolls of pleasure ebb away, until you’re barely nothing more than a shivering, boneless mass on the chair.

He crawls up your body then, every movement with purpose and vigor. He kisses your stomach, a shiver pulsing out from it, then up your sweater, pausing at your collarbone, then goes to your neck. You wrap your arms around his torso and your legs around his waist, snuggling up against his solid, large body to ground yourself.

“Babe?” He asks.

“Yeah?”

“What leap of advancement does Synthetic Moderna have over its many predecessors?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Incorrect! That's a penalty."

#naga/reader #exophilia #naga #monster lovers #monster/reader #kinktober #story

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