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remediesremedy · 2 months

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I WILL SOB, when anyone compliments my work my first reaction is to just CRY. thank you so much, i’m glad you liked it, even if it was just a small drabble :)

one stays shackled (in your life i will unshackle you)

summary: the good ending

astarion x vampire spawn reader (GN)

warnings: angsty, death, blood, fluff, sad and cute, i hope this makes up for not posting for 4 months

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All thoughts of the plan to kill all the spawn and cazador had immediately dissipated when you reached for him. Your thin hand ached to touch him when he got relatively close, it seemed your bodies still recognised and yearned for each other. He could see that you longed for the solace that Astarion provided, so he gave in without a fight, and let you curl a hand around his wrist, tugging at him with all your might (which wasn’t much) to check if he was real.

When he in fact did not appear to be an apparition or trick, his facade of being fine and strong in your presence almost cracked when you cried out. Whether it was relief, sorrow, grief, he couldn’t place what your sound of distress had originated from. He couldn’t do anything but shield your body from his companions as you sunk into him, he caught you just in time before you fell onto the cobbled floor. Your poor body was so weak, it was a wonder you had been able to be completely present, and not faint during the interaction.

“my moon.” Astarion breathed, no longer resisting the urge to cave into your body. He cradled you with a gentleness his companions had never witnessed, his head dug into the crook of your neck like it was home. “i am here.”

“you are here.” you whispered back weakly, breathing shakily as your lover held your shivering form after what felt like an eternity. through every lashing and cut your body sustained, it had seemed worth it to finally be in astarion’s arms. “you need to go, he’s, he’ll kill you.” tears trickled down your face, all this torture would’ve been null if he stayed here, to walk straight into a gruesome death that you had tried so hard to prevent. “go, go, a’rion please-

Astarion had shushed you, his words coming out in a tentative whisper, meant for only the two of you. No one would know his love like you. “none of these tears.” His head pulled back from your neck, the pads of his thumbs swiftly wiped away the tears that left your sullen eyes. Astarion gazed at you, gathering all his courage to tell you it would be okay with just a glance. “He will rule over you, over me, no longer.” he promised, hoping he was not lying through his teeth.

chilly hands reached for equally cold ones, “trust me, my moon.”

Astarion revealed the party to you, all feverish with looking at you, as if you’d break if their expressions weren’t soft enough. “i met some people, good people, they exist.” Astarion couldn’t help the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes, all the years he spent waiting for a miracle, a god to help, a good person to free him. Now he had a whole band of people who were with him to end his captor. it felt surreal, where had they been all this time?

without that dreadful tadpole in their heads, Astarion would’ve never escaped, he would’ve never had the chance to free you either. The thought of it made him sick, stomach churning with uncertainty, if they failed to do this. If they failed, he would face a painful death, and hell knows that Cazador would kill you in front of him first.

with a nod to karlach, the tiefling gently picked you up, cradling your freezing body that was all shivers and tremors. and steadily, the group descended into the depth’s of Cazador’s palace, a fortress of darkness and misery that seemed impenetrable before he had been unknowingly graced by being infested with a tadpole.

he sneaked glances at you every so often, at least he thought it was now and then, but with the way Laezel fought to roll her eyes, it seemed he had been looking more times than he had initially realised. his body fought the urge to stiffen, still new with the idea of trust, and with one of his weaknesses laid in Karlach’s arms, his instincts were on fire to hide everything that made him vulnerable.

but he forced his mind to focus on the task ahead, killing cazador. a prospect that would’ve gotten him slaughtered if he even thought about it a month prior, but now he was more free than he had ever been. inching forward for a key that would undo a lock. an inescapable prison, suddenly escapable.

his eyes subconsciously glazed over at the sight of his abuser, standing on a platform with his “siblings” all strung up in the air.

he couldn’t recall a moment after.

when he next ‘awoke’, a knife lay crimson in his hands. and a mutilated cazador under him. The foreign sensation of tears came crashing upon him, and with shaky hands and a rage that was immeasurable, the dagger plunged into the remains. again. again and again.

as Cazador’s blood drenched his skin, he had never felt more clean.

and when his eyes locked with yours, he had never felt such relief.

and such, hope.

hope, that was it, and no longer was it fleeting. it was blooming.

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AUTHORS NOTES

hello you :] it has been a long while (4 months since a piece of writing has been delivered to you) ermmm, my bad! writer’s block and lack of motivation yada yada, has invaded my mind and consumed it whole. i owed you guys at least to finish this little fic series. and as much as you might say i don’t owe you guys anything, i feel like i do. for the very small bunch that enjoy my work, this is for you, every word is for you. you keep me writing, even when i hate it, and sometimes i fall back in love with writing (momentarily).

thank you for every like, comment, repost, i see it and it makes me feel so so appreciated beyond belief. i’ll see you next time (whenever that is)

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remediesremedy · 2 months

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one stays shackled (in your life i will unshackle you)

summary: the good ending

astarion x vampire spawn reader (GN)

warnings: angsty, death, blood, fluff, sad and cute, i hope this makes up for not posting for 4 months

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chilly hands reached for equally cold ones, “trust me, my moon.”

his eyes subconsciously glazed over at the sight of his abuser, standing on a platform with his “siblings” all strung up in the air.

he couldn’t recall a moment after.

as Cazador’s blood drenched his skin, he had never felt more clean.

and when his eyes locked with yours, he had never felt such relief.

and such, hope.

hope, that was it, and no longer was it fleeting. it was blooming.

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AUTHORS NOTES

thank you for every like, comment, repost, i see it and it makes me feel so so appreciated beyond belief. i’ll see you next time (whenever that is)

people who asked to be tagged: @oliviaewl @youaskedfurret @tyongluvs

#imagines #x reader #fluff #lgbtq #anons are open #anons open #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction

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remediesremedy · 3 months

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sorta at this point

Many fanfic writers and artists are just one bad day or one discouraging experience away from throwing in the towel and leaving your fandom.

If you don't want to risk this happening to a favorite creator of yours, today might be a good day to let them know how much their work means to you. :)

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remediesremedy · 3 months

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hey anons and followers <3!! i know you haven’t been wondering where i’ve been but ill tell you anyway LMAO, i’ve said in a few posts that im an inconsistent writer and that did in fact catch up to me once again. i love thinking about writing, and stories and scenarios and i will eventually get to them. work from me will be slow but it will always come :) atm i have two astarion mini fics in the works, foolish x trans boxer reader pt2, two avatar fics (that are planned to be LONGGG), and some other things. like sorting through some anon requests. will quickly say that some requests won’t ever be written and may be posted as the prompt alone in case other writers want to pick up that prompt and do it justice. i am at over 130 followers and im so grateful that so many people have become invested in my work and enjoy it.

you all bring a smile to my face, and make me feel so special that I, ME!! can write something that you like. i’m working on bettering my writing as i feel it is too fast paced, and advice is more than welcome. if i post something and you think “hmm, i think this sentence/paragraph would be better if you wrote this or did this..” etc, i would be so grateful. each and every one of you isn’t a number to me, you are a person and im so baffled and honoured that you, decide to consume my work.

thank you. and take care, i hope you’ll hear from me soon <3

#imagines #x reader #fluff #lgbtq #anons are open #anons open #progress update #update #wip update #writers on tumblr #writer problems

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remediesremedy · 5 months

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remediesremedy · 6 months

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(🍏 anon) I HAVE TO SAY UR BG3 FANFICS ARE SO GOOD!! I love astarion hehe romanced him on my first playthrough to find out I fucked up the game (some how???) And had to restart 😍😍😍😍😍. Romancing Wyll now and I finally got to where I killed the general thorn 😭😭

OH HEY YOU!! (i haven’t quite had the energy for the previous ask u sent in, but it was so good and your brain is massive!!) im in act 3 now!! i just killed gortash. i’m romancing astarion and i had to restart the game i think 3 times, and i think i had to scrap around 20 hours LMAO, that goddamn man smh. so long as you know about the tieflings and the grove he isn’t too hard to romance. and Wyll!!! he is such a sweetheart, i have a poly mod on so next play through im literally romancing everyone simultaneously it’ll be so sweet and epic. speaking of wyll… i feel so bad in my play through 😭 there was a glitch with all my mods that made it so i couldn’t save his dad without Wyll having to sell his soul </3 ive also heard that Wyll’s path is super cute and i don’t even know if you do the dirty on his route. but all the horny mfs go straight for the vampire PAHAHA. i’m romancing astarion and halsin atm, i forgot to mention my other pookie!! Halsin literally calls you the sweetest names like “my heart” like???? ARE U TRYING TO KILL ME 😭😭

#anons are open #anons open #anon submission #lovely anon #🍏 anon

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remediesremedy · 6 months

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one stays shackled (in your death you will be unshackled)

summary: the bad ending

astarion / gender neutral vampire spawn reader

(wow that’s a long reader)

warnings: death, injury, angst, the whole sad shabang

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it wasn’t like it was astarion’s goal to bring you misery, on the contrary he prayed that you somehow had also escaped cazador’s tight clutch. and his heart, what was left of it, absolutely dropped at the sight of you.

living in the cazador’s palace was hard enough, the living conditions were abhorrent for all of his spawn. Years of torture to each other or themselves was enough to crack each and every one of them down into mere husks. But somehow, you had become even less than that. He did not recognise your eyes, once a more mirthful vermillion now a murky red, pooling with blackened edges.

Your flesh was beyond marred, littered with scars that were just about healing, deep open cuts scattered your pale skin. Some leaked a putrid smell, accompanied with the sight of green slick, beyond infected and beyond cruel. Your body was caked in blood, mostly dried and flaky across the vast expanse of your frame.

and everything about you seemed sunken, like you had been pulled down by an unbearable weight, destined to drown a thousand times over. Whatever had happened to you while he had been gone, had turned you into someone else, someone that he didn’t love.

His soul burned at the prospect that this vessel in front of him was you, but it just couldn’t be. You were, you were bright, even when it was incredibly dark. You lit up when he was around, and now as he stood in front of you, huffing from the exerting feats of battle, you did not even harbour a spark of life.

“i’m here now, it’ll be alright.” He mustered whatever gentleness he had within him to bestow some sort of comfort, but even his words didn’t reach you, or maybe he didn’t bother to check. Maybe he avoided any inkling that you were still salvageable, because an itch stirred in his stomach, one he had never felt before, and one he yearned to scratch.

To kill Cazador, to kill the other spawn, to become powerful enough that he would never bow to another creature or soul again. He would never have to bargain with his body, or hunt for scraps. He would never be weak.

never again.

and maybe there had been the slightest spark in you, maybe you still had that large ball of hope inside of you that needed to be cultivated before you were okay once again.

but it did not matter.

Astarion had lost, for 200 years he had lost everything, his will, his freedom, his family, any ounce of happiness. And he wouldn’t sacrifice it for a simple ‘if’. ‘if’ you got better, ‘if’ you were destined to be, ‘if’ you would stay with him.

So he motioned for Shadowheart to put you into a slumber. He ignored the fear on your face as your eyelids inevitably drooped, when you went limp into sleep, he held you, momentarily mourning the loss of you. The next moment, his fangs speared into your neck, savouring a taste of you that would cease to exist again.

He had hesitated, the knife over your chest shook in his grasp. He had never aimed to cause you suffering, so he fluttered his eyes shut and let the dagger kill you swiftly. You were no longer in pain and by the nine realms he hoped your spirit got sent to somewhere more deserving of your presence.

His stomach burned, the itch was being satiated, and simultaneously a new sensation emerged. A blinding grief, it was too late to reverse, too late to take back the dagger in your chest and the blood seeping through the cobbled ground.

There was no going back, he had to finish what he started. He had to continue on, without you. It would be worth it.

would it be worth it?

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a/n: i diddly darn warned you that it would be sad, hope you’re coping!

but i did do you the favour of posting and writing the sad one first, that means you get to read the happy ending next and forget this ever happened!

(thank you for all the support, it’s been really great seeing people comment on my stuff and to see who has been enjoying it. much love <3)

people who asked to be tagged: @tyongluvs @youaskedfurret @oliviaewl

#imagines #x reader #lgbtq #anons are open #anons open #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #fanfiction #fanifc #angst #angst prompt #sad ending #bad ending

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remediesremedy · 6 months

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❝BALDUR’S GATE 3 MASTERLIST❞

any sexually explicit work with be marked with an asterisk [*]

ASTARION

-one stays shackled pt2 (bad) pt3 (good)

KARLACH

WYLL

GALE

RAPHAEL

GORTASH

HALSIN

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remediesremedy · 6 months

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one stays shackled

art by sarii.draws

astarion / gender neutral reader

summary: astarion had managed to escape cazador’s hell, but now with the offer of ascending himself on the line, he has to decide whether to save the spawn who kept him from shattering apart or to kill them to gain power.

astarion never thought he’d see the sun again. He briefly remembered that in his old life, he found it to be a marvel, that his skin had once been not as pale. In Cazador’s halls, it was nothing but cold, a temple of sorrow, a beacon of silence.

The sun. He wondered if he could step into daylight for just a second, to bathe in the warmth it bestowed, to allow him a moment of peace. But alas, the world wasn’t kind, ever since his apparent rescue, he had learnt that the world was entirely cruel. Evil had dug its way into his skull, snuffing out every trail of hope. When the wounds on his back burned, a twisted fantasy came to mind, it was just the sun, it was warm today.

when the halls were freezing, gusting with an icy breeze, he deluded himself into thinking that it was spring, just a cold day, that if he opened his eyes he would find a bed of flowers with their petals shifting from the wind’s weight. When he was sentenced to eating bugs, he tried his best, through teary eyes, to believe his belly was full and warm, that he was positively stuffed after a nourishing meal.

When all was lost, when all was nothing, you were there.

You had arrived last, the final spawn to join them. Astarion had not cared at the time, you would be a mere puppet soon, devoid of any emotion. He certainly didn’t want whatever defeat you would succumb to, to affect him. His thread of hope would not be cut, no matter how frayed it already was.

But you sought him out, after everything mind numbing order Cazador gave, your resolve was not squandered completely. Every night, Astarion would return to his so called room, a pile of rags on the floor, and he would find a myriad of vermin barely alive. You hunted leftover’s for him, despite how sickly they tasted, it gave astarion an ounce more energy to survive Cazador’s painful favouritism.

You would whisper to him, as the months went on and you both couldn’t sleep, you told him stories, some true, some fiction, your hushed voice was heard only by him. And he noticed, as the years went by, your apparent truthful and real stories became more jumbled, you were forgetting.

You were attentive to him, he was sure you would bow to his every whim if Cazador wasn’t able to completely overrule your decisions. His slither of hope expanded, all was not lost, it could be found again, with you. Every painful beating was met with your gentle touch, a squeeze to his hands, a kiss to his temple. He was almost sure you never slept, opting to watch over him whenever he tried to catch a wink of slumber.

in such a wretched place, he had never expected any sort of compassion or kindness to reach him.

And he despised that your nature was crafted that way, even after being displaced on a nautiloid and travelling with a group of adventurers for weeks, even after being able to gleefully enjoy the sun, to drink from tav, to finally feel his belly warm and satiated, even after drinking, having free will and sleeping with someone.

you faced him with no malice.

when he had arrived in baldur’s gate once again, now with a whole party on his hip, his only priority was killing Cazador.

but then Raphael.

Raphael’s admittance on what was scarred on his back, a pact in infernal language carved into his skin. An opportunity to be killed and forever used as a pawn for power, or an opportunity to kill and never be a pawn again.

he tried not to think of you, he let the fantasies of finally being free rule him. What would it be like? to never be controlled again? what would it be like, to control?

he was naive to think choosing to ascend would be so easy.

when he saw your face, all beaten and bruised, his resolve faltered. A stab to the gut, it was evident that in his absence, you had become the favourite victim. Perhaps even punished for letting your lover leave. You looked beyond malnourished, tired, and fragile. Your attempt at smiling at him was pitiful, puffy purple lips parting to reveal bloody teeth and bleeding gums.

he had been so sure, that he could kill you, that you would forgive him, it was in your nature.

but as his red eyes met your similar crimson, he felt rage boil in his veins, the overwhelming need to protect you. He was stronger now, a force to be reckoned with, a primal need to protect what he deemed was his filled his mind.

Shame bubbled behind his sockets, and he willed the tears not to well up and fall. You had done everything you could’ve possibly done to make him at peace in this hell, you had been his unfairly gifted angel.

You had been shackled to a wall for weeks, tortured and abused relentlessly. Astarion swallowed the bile in his throat, he knew if you had been able to escape, you would’ve made sure he would’ve done so too.

“i’m sorry my darling.” He had choked, tears streamline against his porcelain skin, “i have sinned against you in ways that are unforgivable.” he admitted, reaching forward to unclasp the too tight chains that held you down. Your wrists and ankles were a dark purple, inflamed bruises covered your whole body, and Astarion wanted nothing more than to beg, to beg for forgiveness.

no amount of begging would fix you.

you were different, he could see. You had lost your slither of hope, even the sight of him didn’t bring light to your eyes.

he had already killed you, by not coming back for you.

maybe it was best to end your suffering. his mouth itched for blood, he wondered if Cazador’s neck would be the first bared for him, or yours.

there might be a continuation of this, ending where you are spared and ending where you are killed. lmk what you guys think and if this was okay, love you pookies <33

#imagines #x reader #angst #fluff #lgbtq #anons are open #anons open #astarion #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion

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remediesremedy · 7 months

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(🍏anon) Hope you're doing so so so well!! If you're wondering...no. the qsmp brainrot has not left. It will not leave dear god help me. But if you're fine with it I might send an ask tomorrow ?! I'd hate to bombard you if you've JUST gotten back and got a little motivation 💀

do not worry my friend i always love to be bombarded by you ! /lh. you’re always good to send me asks :) anyone is!! if i don’t respond it’s nothing personal, but when you send an ask it is normally so detailed and full of ideas and has room for me to play around and experiment, so i love doing them !!

#imagines #x reader #fluff #lgbtq #anons are open #anons open #🍏 anon #qsmp

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remediesremedy · 7 months

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Hello Hello!

so I've been reading your work and I'm obsessed🤩 Could I request foolish reacting to his s/o being a really quiet and shy person but like a total freak in the sheets???(like choking kink, spit kink, stuff like that) If not that's totally okay!

TYSM<3333

anon you sound so sweet!! ofc i wanna bring your idea to life, and you’re earning some major brownie points by telling me you’re OBSESSED? with my work? i’m smiling rn!! that’s such an appreciated compliment. anyway, enough from me, let’s get into the good stuff :)

ENAMOURED BY FILTH

foolish x gn reader

warnings: pure filth, spit kink, rough, choking, biting, breeding

foolish having a typically shy partner who is a freak in the sheets is so funny to me.

they come onto stream often, sitting content in the background, sometimes quietly humming when foolish speaks to them, and smiling at chat when they say something funny.

their words are soft, so delicate and smooth that even foolish immediately quietens down when he senses they’re about to speak.

the relationship had been pretty slow, the furthest they had gotten was clothed grinding, and that got cut short when foolish got a phone call, relating to a sponsor for his next stream. He wasn’t too thrilled to answer a call with his hard cock straining in his boxers, tip leaking precum and begging for some attention, but he cleared his throat and moved his sight away from his partner’s needy face.

that instance had left foolish absolutely flushed and eager for more, but he didn’t go past kissing. He refused to move at a pace that was too fast for his partner, but his partner was convinced that foolish was the one needing to take it slow.

one night, after a long stream, foolish is exhausted and stumbles into their shared room when he spots his partner bare. They’re stood next to the bed with a towel draping over their thighs as they carefully dry the water on their skin. Foolish’s mouth felt like parchment, and the only thing that would satiate the dryness would be his lover’s attention. With a cough he announced himself and his partner turned around bashfully, and then laughed quietly.

“oh c’mon you’re blushing like a virgin.” they teased, shimmying the towel over their most private areas, “it’s okay, im covered now.” their eyes softened, reaching a hand out to grasp his, “we’ll move at your pace okay?”

Foolish couldn’t contain his disbelief, “my pace? i- i thought you were the one who wanted to take it slow?”

“me?” and with a sultry smile, it was the beginning of their heart racing endeavours.

��their first time being so gentle, foolish’s skin is on fire as his lips capture his lover’s, his heart hammers as his partner reaches up and tugs on his raven hair, the gasp he lets out is delicious. When he aligns his aching cock with their entrance, and slips into their warmth, he swears he sees stars. His high approaches quicker than he would like, and he can’t control the utter filth that leaves his lips as they moan out delightfully, “fuck, you wanna be good for me?”. Foolish wants nothing more than to be perfect for his partner, “yes, yes, what is it?”

“spit in my mouth.”

foolish cums, white blinding his vision as his seed coats his partner’s warm walls. Breathlessly, he collects saliva in his mouth and spits, it lands perfectly on the centre of their tongue, and he can’t help but to keep bucking his hips. He watched in awe as they swallow it in bliss, he ruts into them, until his poor cock is aching and his balls are empty.

They are both satiated, they’re filled with cum, with loving marks all over their skin. and foolish is spent, legs twitching and coursing with electricity.

#qsmp foolish #x reader #imagines #lgbtq #fluff #anons are open #anons open #foolish smut #mcyt foolish #foolish x reader #foolish gamers #foolish dsmp #mcyt #dsmp smut #qsmp smut

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remediesremedy · 7 months

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🌻 IS BACK. HI I LIKE.. FORGOT I HAD TUMBLR.. anyway i like read all of ur incredible fics again.. 😻 glad to be back even if u arent 😋

HEY DARLIN’ !!! IVE SORTA BEEN ACTIVE BUT NOT WRITING, IM SO GLAD YOURE BACK!! WELCOME BACK , hopefully i’ll be back to writing a bit more, but inspiration comes and goes :D

#🌻 anon #anon ask #anon answered #anon submission #anon <3

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remediesremedy · 8 months

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bro we aged 🫡

#1 year tumblrversary #tumblr milestone

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remediesremedy · 9 months

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i’m sat here in my kitchen at 3 am trying not to giggle because someone who liked my stuff has a really funny pfp 😭 whoever has jesus with markiplier’s face on it as your pfp this is your fault

#remedies #remedyanons #3 am ramblings #3am things

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remediesremedy · 9 months

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YOU CALLED AND IM BACK (a little late but back regardless)!!! Green apple anon at your service 🫡 🍏

Ideas have been dull but trust, I am as insane as ever.

-qsmp!Quackity needing help with pruning his wings, but it's such a struggle on his own. Especially since (my headcanon)- his wings are torn up from the countless times he's blown up tnt.

-But since everyone just flat out doesn't trust him especially because of, like I mentioned, the times and times again where he's blown up places with tnt to try and kill people. He doesn't know who to go to- if anyone at all.

-Then we have qsmp!reader, the saint who convinced qsmp!Quackity to not kill Tallulah. Who understands what he goes through emotionally with the loss of a kid. And the only one who seems to not be a snob and turn their nose away from his when he walks past.

-Quackity feels embarrassed about it, especially since the reader has seen him do various uhhh.. not so good things across the server, but he solemnly makes his way up the rugged path to the reader's house with a thin blanket covering his back. He then asks them if they can help with pruning his wings.

(Honestly I see them as being purely platonic with their relationship with one another, just two people who are trying to get through the grief of it all!! But if it's a little romantic idm?!)

hello my favourite anon <3 i love this idea and i totally agree that it’s more platonic than anything, just a mutual understanding that grief needs comfort.

warnings: blood, injuries, grief, past tense remembrance of death

The recent weeks had been busy, bustling little eggs coming in and out of your care, finally socialising with the island a little more after what happened, overall things were doing a little better.

so when faced with a day filled with nothing, no schedule, absolutely nada, it was hard to fill the space. these were the moments you thought about otto, when the world went completely quiet. Adjusting without him was an impossible feat, you still made dinner for two, your fingers still twitched at night to tuck him in, and a lullaby always sat at the edge of your tongue for him.

The potted flowers in the kitchen had long ago wilted, simply now shreds of brown that threatened to crackle at the slightest breeze. However you couldn’t find it within yourself to rid of them, Otto found them for you, beautiful daffodils, he had frantically tugged them out of the ground, squinting to make sure he got the roots. He had been so excited, filled to the brim with energy as his dainty hands shoved the messy bouquet in your face.

it had been an almost impossible feat to get up in the morning, and with nothing to distract your clouded mind, the only plan was to rot away in the comfort of your bed until you were needed. The covers were cold, shrouding your body, and for a second, you looked like the state otto was found in, still, huddled under cold blankets. your head moved on its own, your face was greeted with a pillow, and your hands encased your ears, in a desperate hope to make it all stop. The incessant torture never dulled, in these moments it was so blaringly loud, alarms of depressions and guilt streamed into every crevice your brain held.

then, a knock. enough to dissipate the smoke that had invaded your mind. The thuds against the door were hesitant, unsure, a sense of deja vu hit you. It was most likely a lost egg at your door, or a tired parent, but it gave you something to do. Still in tattered clothes, you opened the door gently, coming to face the person you least expected.

The raven with golden wings, feverish eyes and a bruised face. “you look awful” you blurted without thinking, scanning the rest of his body which was equally as bruised.

“thanks.” Quackity huffed, stepping backwards as if to turn away, like coming to your home had been a mistake. before he could retreat any more, you spoke up.

“come in.” you creaked the door open further, and the avian hesitated, but it seemed he gave in, his marred and wounded skin too pained at the thought of standing longer. You wondered how things had gotten so out of hand for him to sustain these injuries. You watched the tenseness in his body disappear, it was almost like he was being watched until now. “what have you gotten yourself into?” you murmured, finding more scratches on the man the longer you peered at him. His eyes betrayed him, full of guilt, regret, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out he had instigated what had happened.

The look on hie face was enough to make you divert the subject, “never mind that, why’d you come here? if you’re here to sleep over, that’s fine but only for one night because i’m not the biggest fan of holding fugitives-“

“it’s not that!” he waved his hands to stop your train of thought, frustration tugged at his brows, it was odd to see him at such a loss for explanation. he wrung his hands, gaze locked into the floor as his lips pursed and then reluctantly opened, spilling the reason he came to you. “my wings.” he paused, you had been too caught up looking for injuries on his body you hadn’t even considered his wings, you could see some golden feathers poking from behind him, but his actual wings were covered by a blanket you previously hadn’t noticed.

“are they okay? is it fatal?” your speech came out fast and laboured, worried that you had a dying man just standing in your house. The violent shakes of his head told you that he was okay, okay enough at least. “then what is it?” you prodded, inching closer to the tense man.

His cheeks flooded crimson, a blush beginning to coat his beaten face, “it’s, it’s embarrassing.” He sighed, he couldn’t avoid it, he had come to your door on his own accord, it was childish of him to almost avoid your questions. “my wings, sometimes they get dirty, or there’s loose feathers, i can’t reach them.” realisation dawned upon you, your eyes couldn’t help but soften at the disheveled avian.

“you need them preened.” He nodded stiffly, gently you stepped beside him and removed the thin blanket that draped over his large wings. Quackity’s head tilted down, it was shame, he felt shame for having no one to go to, and that he couldn’t even do it himself. “it’s okay, i’ll help, you just need to tell me how okay?”

He lifted his head once again, a strained smile encompassing his lips. With a quick relocation you were upstairs, he sat awkwardly at the end of your bed, while you settled behind him on your knees, finally getting a look of what you had to deal with. Broken wings, some feathers looked painful in the way they stuck out, there were holes and scabs, from observing them for only a few seconds, you knew he could no longer fly. Quackity’s voice filled the room, “Wilbur used to help me with them, and right now i’m sorta enemy number one, i didn’t know who to really go to.”

you hummed, listening to him talk while you ran your hand through his feathers, smoothening them out best as possible. Gently, you pulled loose feathers out, fingers skimming across more injured sections to deal with later. Quackity kept his head bowed, his speech once again coming out in a shy murmur, “i don’t even know why you’re helping me.” he admitted, and you chose to say nothing about his admittance.

“i need to pull out the broken feathers and clean your wounds.” you softly spoke, grimacing as your index and thumb tugged on a stray feather, coated in blood. His hiss made you feel momentarily guilty as you eased the first one out, as swift as possible, you plucked them out, hushing him every time he cried out. “it’s okay, almost done.” you promised, pulling the last remaining ones quickly. “there.” He sighed in relief and began to let his shoulders relax.

“i still need to clean your wounds don’t get too comfortable.” you chided, getting up off the cotton covers to retrieve a rag and warm water. While you were gathering the materials you heard the low annoyed groan of the avian, and it almost felt like you never had a day off in the first place. Just another vulnerable person in your care once again.

you realised that maybe otto was sending these people to you, giving you a purpose, and a sad smile appeared at the thought. Otto never got to socialise much, and never got the chance to have an uncle or an aunt because of it. You never got a pairing either, you only had each other. What if you had socialised him more, even when he didn’t want to go? so that maybe people would have remembered to take care of him.

it was easy to do this, go back and forth between the blame. It was a battle that went on most nights, who would hold the title of it being their fault. And as the days went by, the tally on who was most guilty ended up being you. You weren’t there, and that gnawed at every little healthy cell in your body, you were sick, making yourself sick with blame. oh. oh how you missed him.

your sweet little boy.

the call of your name took you back to the present, and you made your way back to the avian again disoriented. “sorry.” you spoke unsurely, words waiting to offload from your tongue, to tell someone else the extent of your blame. But you held it, “i just zoned out.”

Quackity looked unsure at your answer, but he nodded anyway, instead preparing himself for his wounds to be touched and cleansed. When you settled down again, you noticed some of his wounds had been weeping, trickles of blood dripped down onto your bedsheets. Your eyes softened, it was easy to villainize quackity, with his wrong doings and his slimy behaviour, but behind it all was just a clueless and afraid man. So you wiped the blood on his ruined wings, you gently dabbed his wounds until they were clean. His feathers were finally looking golden again, and no longer appearing as a dull amber, the dirt and grime was now washed away. And a part of you hoped it also washed away some of his hatred and disdain for the world.

“are you done?” Quackity asked after a moment of silence, and you answered his question with a hum. Out of instinct you went to help him up, and then realised he was a full grown adult, not one of the eggs you’d been caring for lately. You coughed, stepping aside and watching him rise from your bed more at ease, he honestly looked kinder, softer.

you hoped some kindness would change him.

“thank you.” He softly said, and with a surprise, his lips upturned into a smile. a beautiful smile.

“you should smile more.” you commented bluntly, watching crimson flood to his cheeks once again. He cleared his throat, about to say something when you followed your statement with another sentence, “it suits you.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment it seemed he was a regular man, a kind man. Then his irises looked hazy and his body tensed, all in the span of a second. a fast change that looked so wrong. It was like his very being had been altered right in front of you, worriedly you stepped forward, ready to look the avian over for any unseen injuries, when his voice wrung out through the air, low and shocking.

“i can help you get him back you know.”

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