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periprose · 6 months

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Heyyy I’m literally playing through ps4 Spider-Man again 🤣!

I was wondering if I could request a ps4 fic, maybe Peter and reader have been dating for a while, and she gets hurt during the explosion and he can’t find her but she’s with may at feast with like a broken arm or something?? (She knows he’s Spider-Man) 👀🫶🏼

hey lol thanks for requesting! I'm on the first playthrough of the game myself. Basically this is set during the explosion at the election event in the game, and Peter and you are there to proudly watch Officer Davis accept his award.

"Hey." Peter comes up from behind you on the sidewalk, fixing wrinkles in his civilian clothes. He must've just changed.

"Hey, Parker." You nudge him. "Ready to go watch Osborn smooch up to the well-meaning audience of Manhattan?"

"Well, ready as I'll ever be." Peter takes your hand. "I'm really just there to watch Davis get his well-deserving award, y'know. Hey, didn't I tell you to stop calling me Parker?"

"Meh, you love it." You joke. "You'll always be Parker to me, even if you are my boyfriend now. It's our thing."

Peter shakes his head, but you know based on his little smile- he loves that you have a little thing just for him.

Together, you walk to the intersection in front of City Hall, where many people crowd around, waiting for Mayor Osborn and whatever speech he's about to give today. They're all dressed in Osborn themed merchandise, cheering and clapping.

You can't believe this many people care about Osborn's so-called promises to the city- you and Peter are really hoping he won't be re-elected this term after all- but people are clapping for him, and you sigh knowing that your cost of living is about to go up.

"Hey. Wipe that frown off your face. We're here to be supportive." Peter whispers from next to you in the crowd, and you nod.

"Where's Davis? Is that him?" You whisper back, pointing to an older black man up on the stage.

"Yup. You wouldn't believe it, he was so helpful in Hell's Kitchen. Dude whipped out his gun and had my back like we've been best buds for years." Peter smiles. "There's not many out there doing it like him."

"He sounds like a real treasure. I'm glad you have someone on your side." You squeeze Peter's hand, and continue to look up towards the stage in mild excitement.

You don't really care for Osborn's speech- Peter laughs about his promise to open up technology for NYC when you both know that's reserved for the elite- but you both grin when Davis, looking nervous as ever, walks up the stage to receive his award.

"It is my privilege to present Officer Jefferson Davis with the Department Medal of Honour." Osborn hangs a medal around Davis' neck, and you and Peter clap.

"I'm so glad this is all over. The gang war, I think." Peter whispers to you, and you raise your eyebrows.

"Really? Does this mean you'll finally be a little safer?" You ask, but Peter frowns a little.

"Well, there's some loose ends still to be tied up, but-"

"Loose ends?" You give him a wary glance. "Like what?"

"Like whatever 'Consolidated Shipping' is. It doesn't make sense." Peter sighs, watching concern grow on your face. "It's not right, but I'll figure it out."

Davis says a few words- he thanks his wife and his son, Miles, who you can see is sitting up at the front of the stage.

"Aw, cute kid." You remark to Peter, and he nods, gaining a slightly sheepish smile.

"Officer Davis did say I remind him of his son. I'll take it as a compliment." Peter jokes, and you snicker, calling him even more of a baby.

Behind you, Sable guards are talking on their walkie talkies about "keeping eyes on Osborn," which to you sounds as if they perceive a threat. You turn back to tell Peter, when he suddenly flinches.

"Peter-?"

He grabs his head, panicking- you watch as his pupils dilate, and he's clearly in some kind of shock.

"Everything feels off-" Peter flinches again, and you know he's having a Spider-Sense meltdown. There must be multiple things happening at once- even worse, you're not sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. He's not suited up, and he risks revealing his identity if he does anything.

Either way, Peter runs behind you. He shoves people out of the way, trying to get to the back of the event, behind the audience, but he's not fast enough. There are men arriving out of cars- corrupted men, turning that strange grey-blue-transparent hue that confirms their connection with Martin Li.

Peter runs- he dashes- but you see him flinch again, cowering under such threatening energy. He turns to the stage in horror, and you gasp in shock.

There's another corrupted on stage, covered in explosive devices.

An explosion goes off behind you, to the right of you, than another massive one on stage- the ground shakes beneath you, and you're too in shock to move.

"Get down!" Peter shoves you back, attempting to push you out of the way, just as another two explosions cause the earth under you to rattle, and you lose your footing and fall back on the pavement. You twist your arm unnaturally and hit your head.

You black out, the last thing you see being massive blue-black explosions in the sky.

Peter wakes to floating ash in the sky.

He coughs- there's a sharp pain in his right side, and a slight ache at the top of his hairline- he touches his forehead and pulls his fingers away to see brown-red, dry blood.

It doesn't matter. He'll heal faster than most, anyways- he needs to locate you.

He gets up, seizes a little due to the pain- and to his alarm, you're nowhere in his near sight. He walks around seeing Sable guards help people off the streets- although Peter really thinks they're poking and prodding and shoving them away, so they can clean up the mess around here.

He hopes you haven't been taken away by Sable guards.

Peter rushes to the nearest clinic- but there's too many people crowding around there with their injuries, and the receptionist at the emergency room tells him there's no one by your name here.

He begins to panic. You're not responding to his calls, either. Peter doesn't want to believe the worst could've happened to you, but he does hear people talking on the streets about the casualties. Apparently at least 10 people have been found dead so far- Peter starts swearing under his breath.

He decides to head to FEAST- he's not sure if you'll be there, but it's better to ask Aunt May or some of the volunteers if you've been seen. FEAST also operates as an emergency medical clinic, too, even with limited supplies, and it's with this small amount of hope that Peter travels there.

Pushing through the doors, the front desk woman- Amanda- she's startled by how intensely Peter asks about you.

"I don't know, Peter." She points to the main auditorium, where many homeless and injured people are currently being attended to. "It's kind of an open house back here- you're going to have to look through the crowds."

Peter sighs. "Thanks, Amanda."

It takes him about fifteen minutes to do a full, quick walkthrough. The entire time, his heartbeat thumps faster as he realizes- he's not seeing you anywhere. There's nobody wearing your trademark scarf, your usual dark blue jeans- nobody with your fastidious expression, where you always seem to take in the entire world before speaking- nobody to relieve the steady ache in his heart.

Peter walks into the room full of medical supplies, expecting to see Aunt May- and while May is there, busy with another volunteer, the first thing he sees is you, with your hair all disheveled and messy, bruises on your cheek and a cut under your lip, and your arm wrapped in a cast and a sling.

But you have a soft, comforting smile. You're kneeling down to help a little girl- she can't be older than five- and you're placing a bandage on her knee. And the little girl squeals, hugging you after you say "It's all better now."

Peter would agree with that.

You look up, arms still embraced around the little girl- Rina is her name- to see Peter, looking wistful, sad, a clear lump in his throat. His eyes are watery.

"Peter?" You watch as he comes forward.

"I thought you were- I thought..." He wipes his eyes. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Well, Little Rina over here needed a little bit of medical attention." You kindly tap her shoulder and she nods up at Peter, smiling. "She tripped and fell and no one was paying attention to her knee, so I decided to help her."

"That's..." Peter trails off, wondering how you could be so selfless when your own face was looking a bit worse for wear. "That's sweet of you to do. How do you feel, kiddo?"

He kneels towards her, and she grins really big. "Better!"

"Alright, high five then." Peter high fives her, and she dashes off afterwards, most likely looking for the parent she came with.

"Why didn't you respond to my calls?" Peter asks you as soon as you turn back to him. "I thought... I thought the worst had happened-"

"Peter, please. Stop with the wounded ego." May calls him out, listening from the sidelines. "What's important is that she's safe and in one piece- that's more than enough to feel grateful about."

Peter looks down, ashamed. He knows May is right, and he has to swallow his pride for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Peter." You grasp his hand, and he looks back at you, jaw tight as he listens. "I didn't mean to not answer your calls- my phone got shattered. And I didn't know where to find you after I woke up- I was already being taken away by Sable guards to 'safety' and then I decided my best chance to find you was over here."

"Oh." Peter feels kind of dumb, but he also feels glad you think of FEAST as a spot to find him. "I should've kept you safe."

"Don't. Don't make yourself crazy with what you could've done." You plead with him, and he sighs but shakes his head. "My arm will heal with time. I guess I landed on it weirdly and broke it."

Peter winces. "Well, you can always ask me for help if it bothers you. I'm there for you."

He traces your lip, where the cut under is still a red-brown, harsh hue in comparison to the pink of your bottom lip, and May takes this as her cue to leave.

Peter snorts. "I wish you had my-"

"Super healing? Yeah, I wish that too." You laugh. "Were you lucky enough to not get hit, or did you just heal on the way here?"

Peter's reaching for a facial bandage and some rubbing alcohol. "The latter."

"Ugh, lucky bastard." You smile up at him, cringing only slightly as Peter rubs away the blood from your wound. "I'm just glad that means I don't have to worry too much about you."

"You still do." Peter remarks, placing the bandage on your face. "But that just means you love me."

And, being ever so thankful that you're safely back in his arms, Peter places a soft kiss on your forehead, and then a slightly-less-soft one on your mouth, hoping it doesn't hurt you, but happy that you kiss him back anyways.

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random-and-average · 10 months

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Henry Barrow Headcanons

Watched a playthrough of Killer Frequency today, and my goofy brain thought how Henry would be like in a relationship with you. Now, I know that the guy never speaks and we barely know anything about him, but to be honest, that has never stopped anyone! So, I hope you enjoy my HC of our secretive silent slasher :))))

TW: murder, kidnapping, Henry being slightly yandere

General:

He's definitely a real sweetheart and would definitely go out of his way to make you happy, though you'd probably have to make sure he doesn't endanger himself in the process

Will do anything to make you happy, and I mean that quite literally

You could do no wrong in his eyes

Rationalizes, justifies, and defends anything you do, even if your actions hurt him

If you manage to build a strong enough relationship, he would totally betray his mother if her desires conflict with yours

Obviously, he's a man of few words, only talking when it is necessary

Tends to whistle out of habit (because I believe that Marie had to have trained him into the role as The Whistling Man)

Likes taking you with him on strolls through Gallows Creek, don't ask me why it's just a feeling

Doesn't know where (or how) to take you out to dinner, so he just takes you to Ponty's Pizza because he heard, through The Scream, that it had amazing pizza "to die for"

If you're on a date, he'll take you out to places he was taught to be familiar with, such as the Maize Maze and Whistling Point, since all he ever learned was related to avenging his late father

Generally submissive and will attempt to mold himself into the perfect boyfriend for you

However, don't think he's entirely docile

Unless specifically stated to not do so, he will eliminate anyone who interferes with his relationship with you

Basically, he'll do whatever you say, but anything outside of that is free reign for him to do whatever he pleases

During Murder Spree:

Once it begins, he'd try to protect you from his mother's plan by scaring you into leaving Gallows Creek

If there was anyone that bothered you or tried to take you from him, they're most certainly going to die that night, Marie's plan be damned

Will tune into The Scream if you happen to be a caller, to hear your voice and also to know your current status

His feelings will be hurt if you help Forrest and Peggy, but he knows that you're just scared and confused

(Plus, he plans on dealing with his wounded emotions in a very healthy, mature, and normal way by murdering the two)

Should you be closely associated with a target, he will knock you out and hide you somewhere safe until he's able to convince his mother to spare you

You definitely serve as a motivation for him to not get caught by the police

#slashers #slasher x reader #henry barrow #henry barrow x reader #x reader #headcanons #killer frequency #reader #killer frequency x reader

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natasha-in-space · 2 months

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Hi Natasha!! I feel like I disappeared and just... never came back lol

Though I'm here to request! This time for Saeran :o

Seeing as I'm planning on starting Ray route soon, could we have a story about Saeran finally being able to confide within you after ages of ignoring his own feelings? I'd imagine that the MC would pry it out of him after noticing he's been acting odd lately. You could take a school setting or canon setting; whatevers easier!

Or, if that doesn't make sense, you could write something about Ray breaking down over feeling helpless; where he thinks that he doesn't do enough/isn't enough for MC.

Or... you could combine the two ideas and write the whole story about Saeran.

SO sorry if this confused you. Ignore it if it did! its completely fine :3

Hi-Hi, lovely to see you back!! <3 I decided to go with SE Saeran for this one, both because I'm currently in my SE Saeran brainrot and because this seems fitting for him. Good luck on your Ray route playthrough! Make sure to have lots of tissues nearby, because you're about to go on a very wild ride of emotions. Also, for future notice, my name's Mia! Natasha is the name of my OC (dw it's kinda a common thing with my url but I don't wanna change it at this point xD)

"...We all know that something is wrong, you know."

Saeran doesn't pay attention to you while you carefully make your presence known by shuffles of your feet against the floor. You are aware that he heard you. He just doesn't say nor do anything to show it. And that worries you.

Saeran was always the quiet, closed-off type. Not like you could blame him, considering all he had to go through. Similar to a feral cat, you've always respected his silent need for space and freedom. If he wanted to talk, he would talk. If he had a desire to spend time with you, he would approach you on his own. You simply demonstrated your desire to be close to him, so that he would know that you wanted him near you.

But... Even you could sense that something wasn't right today. Saeyoung felt it almost immediately, whether it was thanks to their inherent twin connection or his natural tendency to worry about his younger brother. However, just because Saeyoung knew something was wrong doesn't mean he can do anything about it, unless Saeran openly allows him to.

And he was definitely not doing that.

You had to rush down to the kitchen because you heard the sound of glass breaking, and then Saeran shouting. Upon your arrival, the younger twin had already left the room, only giving you a quick unfocused glance before pushing past you. Thankfully, no one was hurt. You talked with Saeyoung in hushed voices as you both cleaned up the broken shards, offering him some comfort in the process. Although you were concerned about Saeran, Saeyoung was equally important to you. Whenever those kinds of incidents happened, his well-being was just as important. Even if he often refuses to acknowledge it.

It seems that Saeran must have cut himself while preparing dinner, and somehow, this turned into an outburst once Saeyoung became worried and tried to help. Both of you acknowledged that there is a deeper issue at play here. Something underlying right under the surface. And it was probably something very unpleasant.

In the end, you both agreed to have you go and attempt to speak with Saeran. Since you weren't present during the entire scene. So, now here you were, silently standing over the younger twin as he sat on the couch, his back turned to you. It hurt your heart to see him hunched over like that, almost like he was curling in on himself. The position didn't appear to be comfortable to be in.

"Saeran, please... tell me what's wrong. I can see you are in pain." Your voice is soft and quiet. You don't want to accidentally push him away. You slowly take a seat on the edge of the couch, a small distance away from him to give him space to breathe and not get overwhelmed.

He shifts ever so slightly, a jerky movement leaving him with a shaky breath. It was probably supposed to be a huff, but it was far too weak to sound like one.

"...I'm fine."

You sigh. "You're not. Look... You don't have to tell me everything, ok? But, I can see that you are in pain, and I want to help you. So... just tell me what you need. I won't ask for anything more."

That seemed to reassure him just a little bit, judging by the way his shoulders lowered, and he paused, possibly thinking over your request. You didn't say anything, only allowing him to do this at his own pace.

At last, there was a reply.

But instead of verbalizing, he just shifts to sit up on the couch and turns over to you. He doesn't look at you, but quietly pulls out his hand and shows it to you. His palm is caked with relatively fresh blood, a decently sized cut being the source of the red substance painting over his skin. It wasn't anything serious by any means, but it sure looked painful.

However... something told you it wasn't the cut that bothered him. Saeran refused to examine his hand. His head was turned away, and his red bangs were falling over his eyes, making it difficult for you to see his face. But, his lips were pressed together into a thin, tense line. You also couldn't help but notice the ungodly tremble in his hands. They were shaking violently. In a way that clearly showed distress without saying a word.

You carefully grasped his wrist, inspecting the cut. Most of the bloody mess was caused by him smearing the blood over his palm, and it didn't seem as bad as you thought at first. Gently rubbing your thumb over his wrist, you pulled away. "I'll clean it up for you, ok? Just wait here."

He didn't respond, but he did give you a brief nod. You now have all the green light you needed.

Saeran hadn't said a word to you until you wrapped a clean gauze over his palm and gently patted his arm to let him know that you were done. The cautiousness with which he turned to look at his hand was unmistakable. Almost like he was sure he'll see something utterly horrifying in its place. The shaky sigh of relief he did let out, though, made you smile. He flexed his hand a bit and turned it around to look over it fully.

"...Thank you."

The murmur was both quiet and soft. Genuine. His mint eyes were filled with earnest gratitude when he looked at you, and that was all you needed. You merely smiled, giving him a nod. "Of course. Do you feel better now?"

Another nod.

"That's wonderful. I'll go put away the medkit, and-"

"-Wait."

As he grasped at your sleeve, you stopped and turned around to look at him. Once again, his face was turned away from you, but this time it was a far more bashful gesture than a distressed one. You weren't completely sure, but you thought you could see a hint of pink dusting over his cheeks.

Saeran breathed a sigh, almost like he was preparing himself before saying anything. Then, he pulled you back a little bit. "...Stay. Please."

There was no need for you to hear anything else.

And so, that's how you ended up holding him close as you both huddled up on the couch, your chin resting on top of his head as he buried his face in your chest. For a while, only the sounds of your shared breaths filled the space. You promised him you wouldn't ask for anything, and you were not about to go back on that promise.

Saeran was the one who spoke up.

"Is... Hyung alright?"

Humming, you raised your hand to run your fingers through his unruly hair. The main purpose is to keep him calm and relaxed. "He's okay. Very worried about you, though."

Saeran tenses a bit, but then sighs heavily, almost in defeat. You bite back on the desire to push him for answers.

"I... didn't mean to scream at him like that. I just-"

A shaky breath. You squeeze him a bit tighter, your other hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"You don't have to say anything you don't want to say, Saeran. None of us blame you."

"-You should."

It was up to you to be the one to sigh now.

"Saeran..."

He shakes his head, but his grip on you tightens, his voice becoming shakier by the moment. It seemed as though he was engaged in a mental battle with himself. It hurt you to be unable to do anything but just hold him and let him talk.

"You know why I started screeching at him for no reason? There must be some rational explanation, right? That's what you think. Well, there isn't. I-" Another shaky breath. The sound of this one was almost like a sob. Your heart started pounding in your chest with anxiety. "I cut my hand on the knife, and just the sight of blood on my hands set me off. I threw a glass bowl at my brother because of a fucking cut on my hand."

You didn't answer right away. Gathering your thoughts and emotions is definitely necessary before you proceed and say something you might regret later. You should be careful here.

So that's what happened... Now that you thought about it, the sight of blood did always make Saeran very uncomfortable. But, to see it coating his hands... Well, you didn't have to guess for long. All three of you were aware of what actually occurred to V on that day.

And what a heavy burden Saeran had to carry with him for the rest of his life.

"Oh... Saeran..."

"-Just-" At this point, it was clear that he was crying. His entire body was shaking with silent sobs as he pressed himself further into you, almost like he was trying to hide from the world in your embrace. "Just hold me. Please. I- I feel so sick..."

So you do. Without uttering a single word. Holding him is what you do. You will have a proper conversation about it once he lets it all out.

Until then, you will be there for him to be his support.

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #saeran choi #choi saeran #se saeran #saeran x reader #se saeran x reader #i am slower on the requests bc i am working on a fic currently!#it should be posted sometime next week and then i'll be way quicker #it's holding se saeran hours

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cadybear420 · 1 month

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Cadybear's Reviews- Murder at Homecoming

Welcome to the thirty-seventh official Cadybear's Reviews! Today I'll be talking about Murder at Homecoming, which I have ranked on the "Platinum Tier" at 9 stars out of a possible 10. My last and only playthrough of this was during September-December 2022.

This is definitely one of the better, if not the best release, of 2022, and it’s easily among my personal faves.

A MC who is proactive and gets shit done, multiple LIs, highly compelling story. How can I not love that? All three of the LIs are amazing characters– and Tyler especially is just precious. I think he’s the first love interest I have ever adored nearly as much as I’ve adored Aiden. I miss when we had male LIs that are just so babygirl.

The incorporation of mature topics and queer themes was especially excellent. MTFL, take notes! Because THIS is how you write a teen story that talks about queer sexuality and mature behaviors. Besides maybe BiBound I mean BloodBound, this is probably the first book in Choices where each LI has some degree of confirmed sexuality outside of their LI option status for the MC.

One thing that’s especially notable is how Tyler will talk about how he used to think he was straight if you romance him as a male or enby MC. I normally don’t mind much when LIs in GOC stories are made with the “playersexual” style of writing, but these sort of little changes are a good show of effort and give Tyler more character.

But of course, it’s not without a handful of problems.

Like COP (1), the story is incredibly linear and none of the clues or choices really affect your story. Sure, they give you a bit of extra background, but that’s about it.

The only choices that really have any impact are the stuff related to the queer discussions, Tyler’s romance route, and how the options for how your MC can talk about their queer experience can change based on your MC’s gender and romance choices. Which is still highly praiseworthy, don’t get me wrong, but I’d have loved to see some variation in the other elements of the book too.

And as much as I did enjoy this MC and do consider them one of the more refreshing ones, they were also a bit too rigid and pre-set for me at times. I get that some MCs will need to have pre-set details about them, and to some degree that does apply to this MC, but it was a bit much at times. Like, there was especially no need to give them a default first AND last name. I do like the aspect of MC preferring to go by their middle name, but we still could have been allowed to change their first and last names too, to be honest.

I found it really hard to feel for the loss of Perdita for this reason; the traumatic event backstory didn’t feel as well established, compared to that of ILITW and ACOR MCs. Though to be fair, I do remember there being a handful of premium scenes to see a memory with Perdita, and I do remember skipping all but two of them.

But even then, I never felt she had quite as much importance as the writers clearly wanted her to have? Outside of being a motivator for MC to solve Gabbie’s case and allowing MC to connect with Donovan better. Maybe my opinion on this might change after I give it a replay, though.

That being said, I’m actually fine with the story not telling us what really happened to Perdita, as much as I’d have loved a continuation for this book. MC not knowing what happened to Perdita is what motivated them to solve Gabbie’s case, and in that regard, the two cases kind of juxtapose one another. Whereas MC is able to get closure for Gabbie’s case, they don’t do that for Perdita’s case.

That makes the ending a little more nuanced in my opinion. Sometimes, we don’t always get closure for these kinds of things. While I’m still mixed on how well the story integrated Perdita, this message was handled decently and didn’t feel like it was in bad spirit.

So if there were a continuation for this story, I wouldn’t mind it being centered around MC finding Perdita, motivated to work on that case more actively after their success with Gabbie’s case. But rather than having them solve the case, it can mostly center around them struggling between whether they should keep up that search, or leave it as a cold case and move on.

Overall, definitely a higher-tier and very respectable story that definitely deserves a replay.

#choices stories you play #choices #choices game #choices stories we play fandom #choices stories we play #cadybear's reviews #murder at homecoming choices #choices murder at homecoming #murder at homecoming spoilers #mah #choices mah

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thunderwavesolveseverything · 3 months

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Magic Lessons and a Sleepover

[Astarion x Named Tav]

The vampire’s lips twisted into a wide smile, his sharp teeth glinting in her eyes. He could hear her heartbeat accelerating. It was all too easy for him to prey on the girl below him. “Already craving for more, are we?” he taunted, savoring the taste of power. “As much as I would love to sink my teeth into your delicate neck,” Astarion brushed his lips against the mark he had left on her the previous night.

Phayelynn gasped at the slightest prick of his fangs, not enough to draw blood but enough to make her bite back a wanting moan.

Astarion pulled away abruptly, “I don’t think our companions will forgive me should they find out.” His face flared with a faint expression of worry as he continued, “You may have been healed, but you lost a lot of blood already.” He seemed disappointed that he couldn’t indulge in his desires and added, “You should rest.”

Unsure if this was more embarrassing than earlier with Gale, Phayelynn let out a long sigh and rolled over to her other side, making sure her back faced him.

What just happened? And what the hells was wrong with her?

Or....Phayelynn gets a magic lesson from Gale and then gets invited to an awkward sleepover with Astarion.

---

Okay, so like I totally love Gale (I hadn't super cared for him during my first playthrough, but after a handful of saves in, he's grown on me). But yeah, I loovvvee Gale- but in a, I want him to adopt me and be my surrogate father figure and teach me all the coolest spells and I'm giving that dream to Phayelynn here cause she deserves it 😂💜

(word count: 6,001 )

Read on AO3 or below :)

Masterlist for Phayelynn's adventures here

Magic Lessons and A Sleepover

As the sun began to set and the sky turned into a shade of orange and pink, Phayelynn busied herself with setting up her bedroll. The smell of burning wood filled the air, the sound of the campfire crackling and popping, easing whatever nerves she had residing within her.

She had just returned from bathing in a nearby river with Shadowheart. They both desperately needed to wash away the dirt and sweat from their bodies and had decided that it was better to stick together instead of going off alone. Shadowheart filled Phayelynn in on all the details she had missed while being taken by Ethel. Phayelynn listened attentively, grateful for the distraction. The simple act of sharing gossip as if they were best friends and the gentle sound of the flowing water and the fresh air brought her a sense of comfort and normalcy.

Phayelynn was cramming her day clothes into her backpack, carelessly tossing her boots next to it, when an abrupt glimmer of purple light caught her attention. For a moment, she felt a jolt of fear, wondering if someone had stumbled upon their camp. Was it Ethel? Or another Gur?

But as she turned to look, she saw that it was only Gale, holding an illusion of a woman in the palm of his hand. The purple glow emanated from the woman’s form, casting an esoteric aura around her.

Relief washed over her, and she let out a wry smile. She looked back down at her bedroll, intending to settle down for the night, but her curiosity got the better of her. Her gaze flickered back up to Gale, and she found herself drawn towards his tent.

The closer she got, the image of the woman became familiar to her. It was the goddess, Mystra.

“Mystra?” she awed at the detailed and intricate illusion.

Gale was lost in thought and jumped when Phayelynn’s voice broke the silence. He quickly dispelled the magic.

“Sorry,” Phayelynn blushed, feeling a pang of guilt for interrupting.

“It’s alright,” he said, trying to collect himself. “You just startled me, is all. I-I was miles away.” He shook his head as if trying to clear it. After a moment, he let out a cough, nodding at Phayelynn. “You know about Mystra?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

As Gale waited for her response, she felt a twinge of discomfort. Today seemed to be the day everyone was sharing their deepest secrets. Astarion and Gale had done the uncomfortable thing and divulged their stories, but Phayelynn wasn’t sure if she was ready to do the same. After a moment of contemplation, she gestured toward the spot that was once occupied by the illusion,

“My mother taught me a little about Mystra,” she said. “She was a wizard.”

“I knew there was magical prowess in you,” Gale wore a smug expression as he snapped his fingers. His interest was piqued now, “What school did your mother study?”

“Oh,” Phayelynn lowered her gaze. She appeared hesitant as she spoke, shuffling her feet uncertainly. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. “She used to fire a lot. That’s all I really remember.” She tried to redirect focus back to Gale. “Why were you conjuring an image of Mystra?”

“No special reason, really,” he gave her a feeble smile. “I was just practicing an incantation.”

Phayelynn couldn’t help but feel uneasy as she watched Gale wave her off. She remembered what Shadowheart had told her about Gale’s condition and couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something more to Gale’s incantation.

“Are you okay?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual. “Shadowheart told me about earlier. I nicked a pair of boots that were glowing all mysteriously if you’re hungry.”

“No, it’s not that,” He started, giving her a slight chuckle before looking thoughtful. “Thank you.” He nodded. “It’s hard to explain, really. It’s just- the need I sometimes feel to see her- it’s indescribable.No sculpture or painting, or even a song, could ever do her justice. Only the fabric of magic itself embodies her: the Weave.”

“Wow, that was really poetic,” Phayelynn couldn’t help but smirk and giggle, teasing him lightly.

Gale feigned offense. He placed his hands on his hips and replied, “I do like poetry, thank you very much.” However, his mood quickly turned thoughtful again as he let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Phayelynn. I don’t mean to be in a dapper mood. I actually wanted to apologize to you before you turned in for the night.”

He seemed genuinely contrite for something, but Phayelynn couldn’t tell what that something was, “Apologize?”

After a moment of reluctance, Gale spoke up. “I’m sorry,” he said, his expression bleak. “I played a part in what happened to you today.”

Confused, Phayelynn furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

Gale’s shoulders sagged as he continued, “When we were facing the Gur, I hesitated. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Astarion, and I considered letting the hunter take him. But my hesitation led to the Gur singling you out, and you ended up getting hurt. I apologize.” As Gale bowed his head.

Phayelynn frowned, the fight with the Gur flashing in her mind in scattered pieces. She looked at Gale earnestly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said, “I got hurt, but it’s not because of you. I did the thing I always do- I fuck around, then I find out.”

She removed her hand from his shoulder and waved it, trying to emphasize her point, “Trust me, it’s not your fault. My uncle’s an elf, and not even an old one, but I think I’m the reason his hair is starting to fall out,”

She smiled triumphantly as Gale smirked at her joke, and she paused for a moment until her expression turned serious, “Actually, I owe all of you an apology. I need to stop putting my nose in these people’s business. I’m used to my uncle being there to stop me from doing anything stupid, and I got carried away. But after what happened today, I have one goal - to find a cure to get these damned tadpoles out of our heads.”

There was a moment of somewhat awkward silence as Gale hummed in agreement. He clasped his hands behind his back, his eyes fixed on her as if trying to read her thoughts. However, just as Phayelynn was about to bid him goodnight, Gale’s eyes widened. He held up a finger, signaling her to wait there, before swiftly disappearing into his tent.

“I nearly forgot! This I do owe you an apology for. I was going to give this to you earlier, but you had gone off with Shadowheart,” he said, peeking his head out to face Phayelynn before once again disappearing inside.

Phayelynn craned her neck to see what he was doing as Gale’s hands deftly moved through various objects scattered around. After a few moments of rummaging, he found what he was looking for and let out a jubilant sound. He emerged from his tent, holding Phayelynn’s lute in his hands. It had been properly fixed and looked practically brand new. The strings gleamed in the moonlight streaming through the trees, and the wood was polished to a shine.

As soon as he approached her, Phayelynn’s eyes went wide with emotion. Without any delay, she reached out to take the lute from his hands, gasping in awe as she held it close to her chest. He smiled warmly at her, passing the instrument to her with great care.

“My lute!” she choked.

“Yes. I happened to have a pair of lodestones lying around, and after a simple mending spell, it’s as good as new. You might just have to tune it,” he said to Phayelynn, looking pleased with his work.

Phayelynn didn’t have words at first, instead, she threw herself at him in a hug, her hand tightly wrapping around his shoulders while the other held out her lute. She rushed to express her gratitude, thanking Gale profusely. Gale was initially taken aback by the sudden hug, but soon, he patted her back and laughed at her excitement.

Phayelynn looked up at him, her eyes wet. “You have no idea how much this means to me. My dad gave me this lute before he died,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

She examined the lute as if it wasn’t real, but she was pleased to find it looked and felt exactly the same. Gale’s mending spell had done wonders, and Phayelynn couldn’t thank him enough.

“You’re quite welcome,” Gale smiled affectionately. He hadn’t realized the level of sentimental value the lute carried when Astarion had shoved the broken instrument at him, ordering him to use magic to fix it. “I’m glad I could help.”

He found himself unable to rid his mind of the sudden intrigue of her past but didn’t want to be the one to open an old wound.

Instead, he got an idea- an idea he might regret, but an idea.

“I could show you the spell if you would like. Just in case you ever need to repair it again,” he said, motioning to the lute. The idea continued to spread, and before he could think through what he was offering, he kept going, “Magic is…my life. I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There’s nothing like it. It’s like music, poetry, and physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses.” he spread his arms out fiercely as he explained, his enthusiasm pulling her attention away from her lute. “Perhaps I could teach you. I see potential in you; there is a sense of the Weave within you, and I’d hate to see that potential wasted.”

When he saw Phayelynn’s face, he couldn’t read her expression - was it one of skepticism, as if she thought he was joking, or a warning that he had crossed a line? Despite his doubts, he decided to continue, “I know it won’t be easy, but with the right guidance, I believe you have the workings of a powerful wizard inside you.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” Phayelynn’s eyes widened, her voice trembling with excitement. “You mean, you would be willing to teach me more than just the basic tricks and spells I know? You’re talking about real, powerful magic?” she asked, her voice filled with eagerness and anticipation.

“Well, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves- I won’t be teaching fireball anytime soon,” Gale motioned cautiously with his hands, already seeing a dangerous look in her eyes. At her frown, Gale responded with a nonchalant shrug, “But I don’t see why I couldn’t teach you more useful spells?” he replied, “Here, let’s try reaching into the Weave together to see what I’m working with.”

As he positions himself, Gale waves his hand and beckons Phayelynn to join him by his side. His movements are graceful, almost dance-like, as he raises his arms up to chest level, palms facing each other. With his palms facing each other, he creates a ball of bright purple energy that crackles with raw power. The energy remains suspended between his palms, and he takes a moment to showcase his talent. His fingers move in intricate patterns, his hands rotating and manipulating the energy. It pulses and glows as if it has a life of its own. The air around them seems to hum with the intensity of the magic.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, Gale releases the ball. It shatters into a myriad of tiny particles, each one gleaming brightly before vanishing into the air without a trace. Phayelynn looks on in wonder, impressed by Gale’s command of the arcane. Gale nods in satisfaction, pleased with his demonstration.

He motions before him, giving Phayelynn a nod of his head, “Now you,”

“What?” Phayelynn gasped, “Now? But I---”

“Trust yourself.” Gale tells her, “I’ve seen you call the Weave before. You don’t have to master it right away.”

“I-I, okay, yeah, sure.” Phayelynn gulped, taking a step forward.

She had watched Gale perform the gesture, and she couldn’t help but feel the urge to add her own personal touch to it. She was a performer at heart, and the thrill of bringing her own flourish to it was tempting. But Gale was taking the time to teach her, and she wanted to show him that he was not wasting his time.

She began to imitate the gesture, she did so slowly and with great care. She wanted to make sure that every movement was precise, every gesture intentional. With her palms facing each other, she outstretched her hands, feeling a bit clumsy at first. But as she concentrated on reaching for the Weave, she could sense a flicker of magic within her. She pulled at it, shaping it into the same ball of energy that Gale had shown her. As she held the magic in her hands, she felt a surge of power. The energy pounded and blazed, alive with possibility. She held it for a few moments, savoring the feeling as it glided through her fingertips.

But then, she suddenly felt a strange sensation. It was as if someone had placed a soothing hand on her shoulder and whispered a kind word in her ear. The feeling was tender and comforting, and it reminded her of her mother. For a moment, she was transported back to her childhood, to a time when her mother’s touch had the power to make everything okay. But as quickly as the feeling had come, it was gone. Surprised by the suddenness of it all, she dispelled the magic before it could fully take hold, and it dissipated into millions of tiny pieces.

She braced herself for Gale’s disappointment- for him to tell her she failed. But to her surprise, Gale’s face lit up.

“Outstanding!” he was pleased, as evidenced by the intensity in his voice. He move forward with his instruction, “This is a tad bit more advanced, but I have the utmost confidence. Repeat after me, h-thran mystra-ryl kantrach-ao.”

The words were undoubtedly of some significance or importance, as Phayelynn noted in his deliberate tone. With unwavering focus and a deep sense of determination, Phayelynn repeated the incantation out loud, paying close attention to every syllable and inflection.

Without any warning, a bright flash of purple light erupted before them. The light was accompanied by a sweet scent of rosewater that filled the air and a warm feeling of comfort and well-being that enveloped them all. Phayelynn could taste a faint sliver of Weave on her tongue. It was a flavor that was both sweet and familiar to her, and she knew that it was a sign that the spell had worked.

“Very, very good.” Gale continued to sing her praises, but his lesson was not yet over. He proceeded to challenge her further, encouraging her to think deeply and creatively. “Now, picture a concept of harmony as true as you can.”

Phayelynn contemplated the idea of harmony, initially in the context of music, trying to think which song shows off the concept the best, but then realizes that it goes beyond just that.

Memories from her early youth come to mind. She remembered how her mother’s eyes would light up as she regaled her with bedtime stories of her time as an adventurous explorer. Her father, on the other hand, would patiently teach her the first slew of chords on his old lute, instilling in her a deep appreciation for music. She couldn’t forget the countless afternoons spent chasing her little sister down the stone-clad halls of their home, snow falling down from the sky from the world outside as they laughed and shrieked in delight.

Harmony wasn’t just a musical concept but an important aspect of life that brings people together.

Phayelynn feels another burst of energy as a brilliant flash of purple sparkles around them. She feels a comforting presence as if she is being held protectively by the gentle hand of Mystra. As she basks in the feeling of safety, she notices Gale laughing in disbelief as he takes in his surroundings.

As Gale marvels at the scene before him, he realizes that Phayelynn has successfully channeled the Weave on her first try. “You did it!” he exclaims, clearly impressed. “How does it feel?”

“It feels like....like home...” She struggled to find the right words to describe the feeling but eventually turned to Gale with a smile and said, “Thank you, you’re a great teacher.”

“Oh, I know.”

Phayelynn couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his hubris.

As they stood basking in the glow of their success, she suddenly felt a sense of unease- as if they were being watched. Her eyes darted to the right, where she saw Astarion staring at them from his tent across the way. A wave of embarrassment washed over her as she realized that the rest of their companions could see their little performance.

The Weave evaporates.

Gale let out a sound of disappointment, his eyes fixed on the depleting magical energy. Phayelynn glances at him, her expression almost apologetic.

“There it goes,” Gale’s gaze remains fixed on the spot where Mystra’s presence once was, and his face betrays a hint of sorrow. “How easily things slip from us, no matter how hard we’ve worked to obtain them.”

After a few moments of silence, he turns to Phayelynn and realizes that he’s kept her from her bedroll for too long. “You should get some rest. No doubt we have another long day ahead of us tomorrow,” he suggests. “I really enjoyed our lesson tonight. We can continue tomorrow if you’re up for it.”

“I’d like that.” Phayelynn nods absentmindedly as Gale speaks, her attention focused on Astarion.

As she looks at him, he meets her stare and flashes her a playful yet charming grin before disappearing into his tent. She can’t help but wonder if that smile was an invitaiton to join him. The thought sends a shiver down her spine, and she feels a sudden rush of heat to her cheeks. She tries to maintain her composure, but her body seems to be betraying her, and she finds herself looking away quickly, her heart pounding in her chest.

Just as Astarion disappeared into his tent, Gale followed Phayelynn’s eyes and caught the vampire’s sneaky retreat. He let out a laugh at Phayelynn’s flushed cheeks, but his tone quickly turned watchful.

Perhaps he was still cautious of Astarion and the seemingly growing relationship between him and Phayelynn. “You need rest,” he said, “don’t let him keep you up all night.”

Phayelynn blushed even harder with humiliation as she was caught off guard. “It’s not like that!” she exclaimed, trying to defend herself. “First Shadowheart, now you?” She felt like she needed another dunk in the river. “I-I think he’s just hungry after all the fighting we did today,” she added, her voice trailing off slightly.

But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Astarion’s grin was more than just a simple hunger pang.

“Hmm...I see,” Gale said with a hint of distrust in his voice. “Well, good night, Phayelynn.” His knowing look made it obvious that he wasn’t entirely persuaded by her words.

Phayelynn promptly said her goodnights to Gale, thanking him once again before scurrying away in a hurry to avoid any further embarrassment.

As soon as she reached the campfire, Phayelynn heaved a sigh of relief. She sat her lute down gingerly next to her backpack and started to reach out for her bedroll, only to realize that it was missing. Her heart skipped a beat as she frantically scanned the area around her.

“What in the hells is going on?” she mutters to herself in frustration.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat, and she whipped her head up and towards the sound to see Astarion opening the flap of his tent. A wave of realization hits her.

So he had been inviting her in earlier? But why was he being so elusive about it?

After a moment of indecisiveness, she made up her mind and started walking towards his tent, passing by Lae’zel’s tent on the way. She was sharpening her blade with a look of disapproval directed towards Phayelynn. Phayelynn averted her gaze and continued her walk with quick steps.

Once she reached Astarion, she looked inside his tent, noticing immediately that her bedroll was laid out next to his. Perplexed, she pointed at it and asked, “You moved my bedroll? In here? Why?” Her tone didn’t have to betray her shock, as her face did most of the hard work.

He let out a groan and turned his head away, unable to face her. He then pouted and shifted his weight to one side, popping a hip out in an offhanded manner. “Please,” he emphasized with a drag of his voice, “don’t think too much of it,” he said, trying to brush off the situation. “I just thought I owed you a decent night’s sleep after you risked your life for me, almost getting killed by the Gur,” he explained.

With a flick of his hand, he gestured towards her belongings, scattered around the fire, indicating that she should gather them. “Now, go grab your things before something else happens to them.”

Phayelynn was feeling mischievous and wanted to tease Astarion a bit more, but she could sense that he was tired and not in the mood to keep up their usual playful banter. So, instead, she smiled and decided to give him a break. She hurriedly gathered her belongings and made her way back towards his tent. Astarion, surprisingly being a courteous host, kept the flaps open for her and allowed her to enter first before closing them behind him.

As Phayelynn settled into her space, Astarion’s eyes followed her every move. He watched as she carefully placed her lute near her bedroll. The lute had been in a sorry state, but now it looked as good as new. Astarion nodded in approval.

Gale could be useful, it seemed.

Phayelynn shifted her position, trying to get more comfortable on her bedroll, and noticed Astarion watching her. She felt a bit self-conscious and wondered if he was staring at her with some kind of intent. Astarion quickly stood up straight as if trying to hide the fact that he was observing her, and then settled on his own bedroll, sitting down with a little distance between them.

Astarion finally spoke up, “So, what were you and Gale up to? Was he attempting to steal another helmet?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, actually,” she replied, “Gale’s going to start teaching me some magic. I was able to channel the Weave for the first time.”

As she spoke, Phayelynn noticed Astarion’s expression shift. He seemed to grow more distant, and for a moment, she wondered if she had said something wrong.

But then he looked at her with a playful smile, “Oh, so that’s what the light show was all about- I didn’t realize you were so close.”

Phayelynn propped her head up with the palm of her hand, her elbow sinking into the soft pillow beneath her. “I like Gale,” she said with a hint of a smile. “He’s a good friend.”

Astarion, on the other hand, was not as impressed. He let out an audible huff and promptly crossed his arms against his chest, making his disapproval evident. “I’ve come across plenty of people who are hungry for power,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of concern, “but Gale takes it a bit too literally for my liking.”

Phayelynn looked up at Astarion with a smile on her face. Her laughter filled the small space, reflecting off the canvas walls. She patted his knee, sensing that he was envious of the time she had spent with Gale, and maybe that was the reason why he had been spying on them.

“Aw, you’re a good friend too, Astarion. Don’t be so jealous,” she teased.

“Jealous? Oh my dear, you are hilarious,” he said. He let out a sarcastic laugh that dripped bitterness as if appalled by her accusation of jealousy. “I’m not jealous of the walking encyclopedia. You can have your fill with the wizard; why the hell would I care who you spend your time with?” he said, shaking his head. He scrunched up his nose, giving Phayelynn a dismissive wave as if to indicate that he was content to leave the matter at that.

Phayelynn felt a bit hurt by Astarion’s comment. Maybe she had thought too much into it. But she couldn’t help but sense that something was bothering Astarion.

She frowned.

She hadn’t had the chance to check in on him after Gandrel.

“How are you doing after everything today?” She was careful with choosing her words as she tested the waters on what Astarion was willing to share. “With Gandrel hunting you?”

“Well, he’s not anymore,” Astarion’s response was short and to the point. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Which is all that matters, really.”

She watched as he looked down at his lap, his hands clenching into fists. Her eyes widened with realization. This was why he moved her bedroll into his tent. He didn’t want to be alone. He needed someone to be there for him, to make him feel safe. Phayelynn felt a flush rise to her cheeks as she realized the implications of this, but she pushed the thought aside.

Phayelynn sat up and reached out a hand to rest on Astarion’s knee, her expression filled with genuine concern.

Astarion was different. He didn’t fit the archetype of the evil vampire that deserved to be hunted. He was kinder, and despite how naive it may have been of her to think so.

“Why was he after you? Did you do something to him back in Baldur’s Gate?” she asked, her voice low- wanting to understand.

However, Astarion’s response was not what she expected. He immediately swatted her hand off his knee, glaring at her with critical eyes. “What did I do?” he sneered, leaning closer to her in a threatening manner. “What about you? Being chased by all those flaming fists in the city?”

She blinked at him a few times, gaping, “What? How do you-”

Astarion cut her off, “Your tadpole was reaching out to mine while the hag and Shadowheart were working to heal you,” he said, his expression grim. “I thought if I put some distance between us, it would stop, but-”

Now Phayelynn cut him off, eyes widened in dread. “You saw everything?” she squeaked, feeling a sense of vulnerability wash over her.

Astarion nodded, his muscles relaxing slightly. “Bits and pieces,” he said, his voice flat and measured.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her brow furrowed with worry. She sat up straight, pulling her hands onto her lap and moving away from him slightly. “But what you saw... I don’t know how much you saw, but I can’t talk about it, okay?”

Her voice was quiet, as if she was afraid of what might happen if she said too much.

Astarion could see the fear in her eyes, and he knew that whatever it was, it was something serious. He nodded his head, letting her know that he understood, and they lapsed into an uneasy silence. He kept his suspicions and want to pry the truth out of her to himself.

To be honest, he hadn’t seen much of what had transpired. All he could recall was her frantically scurrying through the bustling streets of Baldur’s Gate, attempting to evade the city guard. A single, persistent thought was etched across her thoughts - failure to kill ‘him’ and how disappointed ‘Raphael’ was that she hadn’t. Astarion wasn’t familiar with either Raphael or who ‘him’ was, but he didn’t see the significance of enquiring about them just yet.

Astairon’s voice broke the silence as he spoke up, “Well, whatever it is you’re running from if you watch my back, I’ll watch yours.”

Phayelynn nodded in response, her eyes fixed on the ground as she tried to gather her thoughts. The weight of the unspoken truths between them hung heavy in the air, but for now, it felt good knowing they had each other’s backs.

Astarion’s voice was hushed, almost conspiratorial, as though he wanted to ensure that only she could hear what he was about to say.

“It seems my master wants me back,” he whispered, his words hanging in the air as he waited for her reaction.

Phayelynn didn’t expect him to share more with her, and she looked at him with concern.

“Well, you don’t have to go back,” she said as if it’d be that easy.

As he laid back, he laughed at her remark, “Ha, you precious thing,” He then stared at the ceiling of his tent with a narrow look, almost as if he could set it ablaze with his gaze. “I was turned into a vampire nearly two hundred years ago by Cazador Szarr, the vampire lord of Baldur’s Gate. He’s an insatiable monster obsessed with power- I his spawn. If he wants me back, he’ll get me back.”

Phayelynn’s expression was one of skepticism as she spoke up, “I don’t understand. Why would he send a monster hunter after you when he’s a monster himself?” Her confusion was understandable, given the circumstances. It would have made more sense if a local farmer had alerted the Gur after a recent influx of their livestock being drained of their blood.

“Only Cazador would send the Gur after me because it was a group of Gur that had killed me all those years ago,” the memory was one of the only vivid ones he kept of his past. “I would’ve died had Cazador not appeared and saved me.” He recounted bitterly.

Phayelynn attempted to reassure Astarion, “Well, he can send anyone he wants. We won’t let him take you. You’ll be safe with us.”

Astarion chortled at her words. “Safe?” he repeated. “You have no idea of the immense power that a vampire lord like Cazador possesses. Cazador can change shape, become a mist, call wolves to do his bidding, and shrug off blows like they’re nothing.”

His body was visibly tense, his hand waving about as he tried to paint a picture of his master for her. He flinched his head to the side, giving Phayelynn a piercing scowl as he tried to convey how naive she was. He pointed toward the entrance of the tent, “He could walk into our camp tonight and slaughter us all with his bare hands.”

Astarion’s words were meant to strike fear into the heart of Phayelynn and they did. “And if death were the worst thing that happened to you, you’d be lucky.”

Phayelynn looked at the flap as if Cazador was just outside them, “Do you think he would do that?” she asked, her voice shaky.

Astarion seemed exasperated as he let out a sigh and lowered his hand, running his fingers through his hair. After a brief moment of silence, he spoke up, his ominous demeanor shedding off him like a cloak, “To be honest, I don’t think he will come himself. I’ve never seen him leave Baldur’s Gate. However, he has a surplus of underlings who are always ready to do his bidding, so it is highly likely that he will send them after me.”

He let out another sigh, looking Phayelynn in the eye, “We just need to keep our wits about us.”

Phayelynn nodded and shifted to her back, trying to find a comfortable position, but Astarion’s warning made it difficult for her to relax.

As the night wore on and the darkness outside deepened, Astarion also gave up on the idea of resting, sitting up, and reaching for one of his books.

The sound of the pages rustling filled the otherwise silent tent as he read. Phayelynn used the rhythmic sound of the pages turning as an indication of how much time. As she listened, she realized that she had been lying there for much longer than she had thought, caught up in Cazador, the Gur, her magic lesson with Gale, and Astarion having seen her memories. The flipping of the pages seemed to blend with the beating of her own heart.

Frustrated, she rolled back onto her side, peering up at Astarion as he focused on the text below him. He heard her move and turned his head to meet her eyes.

“So...about you biting me....” she started.

He raised an eyebrow, “Seriously? I already fed you earlier, didn’t I? And I’m even allowing you to sleep in my tent again. What else could you possibly need from me?” His voice held a note of exhaustion as if he had already given everything he could offer.

He saw her cheeks gain color, and he knew he had her.

Astarion put the book down and ran his hand through the hair at the nape of his neck, playing with a loose strand between his fingers. Tilting his head slightly, he looked at her with a searing gaze, his eyes practically radiating heat. He leaned over, dropping his face closer to her, both hands resting on either side of her head. He heard her breath catch.

“Unless, of course, you’re looking for another nibble?”

His voice carried a husky timbre, sending quivers down her spine.

As he leaned closer, his breath was warm against her neck, hitting her with a wave of anticipation. His eyes were fixed on hers, waiting for her response.

She felt her own voice faltering as she struggled to speak, her throat suddenly dry. “Um, I was just wondering if you needed to, you know, eat- after today,” she managed to say, eyes locked on his face and how close he was.

Phayelynn gasped in surprise as she felt the slightest prick of his fangs, not enough to draw blood but enough to make her bite back a wanting moan.

As Astarion settled into his own bedroll, he leaned back and arranged the soft cushions around him for added comfort. With a book in his lap, he tried to resume reading the pages before him, trying to ignore Phayelynn, who was visibly disoriented. She was trying to wrap her head around what had just happened between them. She opened her mouth, but before she could even utter a word, he shushed her.

“Go to sleep,” he said in a small but firm voice.

Phayelynn felt a knot form in her stomach. She looked over at him, but he avoided making eye contact with her. His silence made it feel like an eternity had passed as she watched him turn a page and then another.

Unsure if this was more embarrassing than earlier with Gale, Phayelynn let out a long sigh and rolled over to her other side, making sure her back faced him.

What the hells was wrong with her, she thought.

#astarion x tav #tav bg3 #astarion x oc #astarion romance #astarion x reader #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #tired dad gale of waterdeep

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thecluelessdoctor · 5 months

Text

*sigh*

I'm going to be talking about a game today.

For now, we won't be talking about the things happening with the creator. Only the game. I've been wanting to talk about this game for a while, but haven't had the guts to due to the creator and the horrible things she and her husband have done.

Today I'm going to be talking about the game Your Boyfriend. Yup. T h a t o n e

Like I said, for this post we will only talk about the game. Nothing on the creators because I don't believe it is my place. If you want to know about it, I suggest this video

the video link is unavailable, so you'll need to find it manually.

Again, we will ONLY be talking about the game.

So, trigger warnings: obsessive love disorder, ranting, you boyfriend game, murder, etc.

So without further adue, let us proceed.

So if you don't know what YBG is, YBG is a visual novel horror game about a man who is obsessed romantically and sexually with you the player.

The man will be referred to as Peter seeing how that's his name- anyway.

First, let me say I've only seen up to day 2- or whatever day He kidnaps you. Yeah he does that. So my summary might not be accurate

So the game begins with you being at the park, your favorite spot. Here you meet Peter who claims to be your boyfriend. You can either go with it, or not. Your choice.

I haven't seen a playthrough in a while, so this is rusty. You later go to a flower store and meet him again, reaching for the same rose you are. He's like 'oh sorry' and you can react negatively or positively. Reacting negatively will make him hold the rose super right he bleeds.

Anyway the day ends with him at your window. Spooky/sarc.

Already right off the this sucks. But we ain't done we have day two.

In day two you go to your job, and you meet TK, your fellow employee, and someone who has romantic feeling for you.

During your job you see Peter again. Again being able to react negatively or positively, each ending in a different reaction. If you act positively, he'll walk you home, in which Dom..? I think, your landlord says your roommate hasn't been paying their share and might need to be kicked out. Peter offers to live with you with sexual intentions. If you agree your roommate will appear and be pissy.

Now if you react negatively, go finish your shift and go home, your roommate, Lucy is her name, noticing you look distraught. You two get high or drink, I don't remember, and I think y'all end up fucking.

Now here is where the next part comes into play, where you have a horrible headache or smt and leave your room to find pills. You see a figure in front of you, and you think it's Lucy and they are offering pills. Before you can react, they are shoved into your mouth and your mouth is covered and you hear Peter say something so forgettable that I don't care.

Nice. This game STINKS.

Not only does it romanticize a person with obsessive love disorder, it's just not scary!!! Yes the concept is truly horrifying, seeing how it's something that has, and does happen!! But this game treats it like us haha silly. And it's like. FUCK NO.

This game HAD potential.

Let's also talk about the style of the game- the visual novel style.

This style is only good for horror Under VERY specific circumstances. It needs to be done right, and holy hell does this game not do it right. It's terrible. The game just tells you the thing to fear outright or shows you completely. There isn't any FEAR here. It's not SCARY. Orginally when I first learned of the game, I was pretty young, but I still had my obsession with psychology, so I thought this game was going to be a psychological horror, and show the fear behind this concept.

BUT NO.

IT JUST THROWS JT AWAY GOD DAMNIT!!! INTO THE BIN!!!

And I HATE how this game claims to be mature for more than the sex themes!! Fuck, bendy and the ink machine, a mascot horror game for 13 plus is scarier than this shit.

Anyway I hate this game <3

#ybg lucy #yb game #ybgpeter #fuboo #Fuck fuboo #Anti-fuboo #Anti-ybg #Ybg critical #your boyfriend #yb fandom #I hate this game so much #I want it to b u r n

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commentaryvorg · 5 months

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The Great Ace Attorney Final Trial Commentary: Day 2, Part 1

This is an ongoing mini-commentary covering the final trial of The Great Ace Attorney (Resolve) in line-by-line detail. It’s written from a perspective of already knowing the full truth of things, so there will be spoilers for facts that only get revealed later on in the trial. This is not a commentary to read along with one’s first playthrough!

(The commentary will update on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Check this blog to find any other parts currently posted, and if it’s not yet finished, follow to catch future updates!)

Now that we’re below the readmore, I can add that this isn’t quite a commentary for everything going on in the final trial. It’s focused specifically on Kazuma and what’s going on in his head, only covering things which are relevant to him in some way (for the most part). I already had a lot to say about him in a big analysis post over on my main blog – but I have even more to say about him during the trial in even more detail, so here we are!

We’re starting day 2 here, aka the first trial day of case 2-5.

Writing the commentary for this day of the trial is going to feel a little odd for me, because I’ve essentially already done it before – just in character as Ryunosuke, instead of as myself. This was a chapter in my AU fic in which this trial day goes off the rails towards the end and Kazuma gets arrested for Gregson’s murder, because he should have been and I am forever salty that it didn’t happen in canon. The purpose of the chapter in the fic, even though it was 90% retreading canon events, was to utilise all the existing buildup the game had that made it seem like things were headed in that direction, so that my AU could actually deliver the payoff it deserved to have. There are so many really good bits that would be so delightful if they were foreshadowing what was going to happen to Kazuma, except for the fact that they aren’t. I am going to be compelled to point all of these out and grumble about them here.

Here's one to get us started, just as Ryunosuke heads into the courtroom.

Ryunosuke: (Today I battle with another in pursuit of the truth. My best friend, Kazuma Asogi, who I trust more than anyone else in the world.)

Like, yes, this is adorable in and of itself, that Ryunosuke still trusts Kazuma that much even after the way he’s been acting since he came back. But! Imagine how much juicier this line would be if it was followed by Ryunosuke getting Kazuma arrested for murder! That is absolutely what I thought it existed to foreshadow on my first playthrough and asghjkghjdghjdfs.

Stronghart: “Yesterday’s proceedings brought to light a shocking and disturbing fact: There was a side to the victim, Inspector Tobias Gregson, that was unknown to his superiors at Scotland Yard.” Kazuma: “Yes, he was carrying out operations in secret, which Scotland Yard knew nothing about.” Stronghart: “And in those clandestine operations, he had an accomplice.” Kazuma: “Mr Daley Vigil, who would be given the inspector’s identification…”

During what is supposed to be Kazuma’s opening statement, Stronghart is having just as much if not more of a part in it, and they’re both practically finishing each other’s sentences. (Here is just one example of their tandem speech extremely coming across this way.) Clearly Stronghart, who is determined to keep Kazuma in line after his shenanigans with Vigil yesterday, firmly instructed him on what he was supposed to talk about, and apparently they may have even spent a while rehearsing this speech together. No wonder Kazuma wasn’t surprised to see Stronghart here at the judge’s bench today.

Stronghart: “Which brings us to the crucial issue of the victim’s time of death. The defence yesterday proposed a suggestion that the victim may have been killed one day earlier. This was based largely on the discovery that the victim’s pocket watch had not been wound.”

Not really! It was also based equally if not more so on the scorch marks on the candle, which have still not been explained as anything other than evidence that a gun was never fired there at all. But nah, Stronghart is just as happy to draw attention away from that as Kazuma is.

(Since he knows the full truth of the murder, Stronghart is also the only person who may be aware of the even more damning evidence that proves a gun could not possibly have been fired in the Fresno Street room. But he’s especially not going to draw any attention to that.)

Kazuma: “The prosecution has something to report on that subject, My Lord.” Stronghart: “Really? Go ahead, Prosecutor Asogi.”

Geez, look at him acting like he wasn’t expecting Kazuma to bring this (the autopsy report) up at all and this definitely wasn’t all rehearsed and planned out.

Stronghart: “But the official opinion of the investigation team was made clear yesterday. That the time of death was 5 p.m. on 1st November.” Kazuma: “There are indications of an attempt to disguise the real time of death, however. It seems that the natural decaying process of the victim’s body may have been slowed by keeping it chilled.” Stronghart: “That’s out of the question.”

Stronghart apparently also elected to put himself on the “nope it’s definitely impossible” side of this little scripted exchange. In reality, the entire first testimony we’re about to have is to examine the possibility that Gregson was killed the day before, and that testimony was very obviously Stronghart’s idea, so he was perfectly okay with this avenue being explored! (because he intends it to end either with nothing substantial or with apparent proof that van Zieks did it anyway.)

Kazuma: “It’s conceivable that he was killed in the course of his secret activities.” Stronghart: “Do I sense that the prosecution has some information regarding those activities?”

Gasp, look at Stronghart’s amazing sixth sense to pick up on this, and not at all that he blatantly knew Kazuma was about to bring this up because he told him to, nope, nothing suspicious here.

Honestly, this is all remarkably brazen, but I guess since Stronghart has a licence to do whatever the heck he wants, he doesn’t care how obvious it looks because nobody’s going to call him out for it anyway.

(Also, look at Kazuma acting like he’s entertaining the idea that Gregson was killed during his secret outing on the 31st, when really he hasn’t entertained that at all because it was definitely van Zieks, okay.)

Kazuma: “Scotland Yard put an enormous effort into investigating that precise matter yesterday. I think we should begin by presenting the results of that investigation work.”

Once again, note Kazuma’s avoidance of giving a direct answer to Stronghart’s question. He sure does have some first-hand information about Gregson’s real secret activities that day, but he phrases his response in a way that shifts the focus onto something he knows full well is a red herring. Again, he is so good at doing this without actively lying.

--- Testimony 1 ---

Ryunosuke: “Smuggled goods?!”

Ryunosuke is quite surprised to hear this brought up out of nowhere – as he should be. It seems he can already tell on some level that this is a complete wild goose chase that has nothing to do with the actual case.

Spare a thought for Kazuma, who gives us a summary of the smuggling case and must have spent some time researching this information to recite it in court, while knowing this is irrelevant and fully intending to throw it all out the first chance he gets.

Kazuma: “There’s no question: the accused, Barok van Zieks, was present.” […] Kazuma: “In short, Lord van Zieks had ample opportunity to murder the victim.”

Kazuma looks very smug about suggesting that van Zieks could easily have murdered Gregson at the gentleman’s club… even though he knows for a fact that couldn’t have happened. Granted, he’s intending to throw all this out by revealing what Gregson was really doing that day, but the fact that he’s looking so smug about the idea that this irrelevant point throws even more suspicion onto van Zieks is a bit much. Kazuma, please.

(This is one of the very rare instances of Kazuma referring to him as “Lord van Zieks”, incidentally! I… can’t think of any specific reason why this one might be an exception, alas. Guess he just ever-so-occasionally slips up and falls back into habits from his amnesiac days.)

Ryunosuke: “But I was hoping to find out the name of the club.” Kazuma: “That won’t be necessary.” Ryunosuke: “What?” Kazuma: “It’s conceivable that the club might be used again by the smugglers in future. Therefore… the prosecution has been asked not to reveal the name in these proceedings.”

Note Kazuma’s wording here – he has been asked not to reveal the name of the club. It’s not actually his decision, and he doesn’t actually want to hide that information. He’s just putting up a token amount of resistance here, presumably because Stronghart instructed him to, but he’s bound to be trusting that Ryunosuke will keep pushing. And when he does…

Stronghart: “The prosecution is rightfully exercising caution, I imagine.” Kazuma: “……… No, My Lord. The prosecution has no objection.” Stronghart: “…!” Ryunosuke: “Kazuma?”

Too bad, Stronghart – turns out, as the lead prosecutor on the case, Kazuma gets the final say whether you like it or not.

Ryunosuke also has an interesting little reaction there, like he’s surprised at Kazuma suddenly changing his tune, or perhaps relieved to see an indication of his friend acting on his own terms and not what he’s been ordered to do.

Kazuma: “There’s no question that Inspector Gregson was looking into these black market dealings. However… it’s not yet been established that he was on that particular trail on the day in question.”

And here he goes, opening up the possibility that Gregson wasn’t there that day at all, to allow Ryunosuke room to prove it, despite what Stronghart wants.

One incidental thing to note here is that Ryunosuke is now addressing Kazuma with his given name in court, and will continue to do so for the rest of the trial, even though he was calling him “Prosecutor Asogi” in the trial yesterday. Perhaps it’s got something to do with the conversation they had in Kazuma’s office yesterday afternoon, the first thing even vaguely close to a proper conversation between friends that they’ve had since Kazuma’s return. It seems like that closed the distance between them just slightly, enough for Ryunosuke to internalise that this is still Kazuma, albeit a Kazuma with a lot of unexpected emotional baggage, and start instinctively defaulting to calling him by the more familiar name again even in court. (Although this must be on a pretty subconscious level, since we still had Ryunosuke in that scene outwardly telling Kazuma that he’s changed.)

Ryunosuke: “The Grouse? What sort of a club is that?” […] Kazuma: “They’re not places where a foreign student like you would be readily admitted.” Ryunosuke: “Have you looked into the mirror recently?”

I love the way Kazuma tries to project his foreign student status onto Ryunosuke alone. Kazuma is above that, right? He’ll definitely be taken more seriously by the British judiciary and not be written off because he’s “just a foreign student”, won’t he…?

Ryunosuke: “As I understand it, they’re places where well-to-do gentlemen socialise with friends and colleagues.” Kazuma: “Don’t imagine for a second that a foreign student like you would be admitted.” Ryunosuke: (Seriously, is your mirror cracked or something?)

And he does it again, just a few lines later. His particular hypocritical insistence on this just really delights me, which led to me figuring out what it’s implying about his feelings on his own foreign-student status.

Stronghart: “If it wasn’t a gentleman’s club… then what was it?” Ryunosuke: “…A steamship.” Kazuma: “You think… it’s a ship…?”

There’s a subtle screen-shake on Kazuma’s line there, which I like, as it implies an undercurrent of something more going on in his head. He knows it was a ship, and on the one hand he must be glad and proud that Ryunosuke’s zeroing in on the real truth… and yet also perhaps a little worried what that might end up revealing about him.

(After all, Kazuma may well not have been expecting Ryunosuke to prove this much, since this isn’t just proving it wasn’t at the club, but also proving where it really was. He can’t have imagined Ryunosuke would randomly have Mikotoba’s steamship ticket on him in order to cross-reference the ship’s name.)

Kazuma goes on to argue that it couldn’t have been the SS Grouse because it hadn’t docked in Britain yet on the day in question. He has to feel kind of torn about putting up resistance to this, too – on the one hand he wants Ryunosuke to prove the smuggling irrelevant so that he can reveal what Gregson was really up to and is just saying this to make Ryunosuke’s argument stronger, but on the other hand, perhaps a part of him doesn’t want Ryunosuke to prove how Gregson got onto that ship in Dunkirk (and that he brought someone else with him…)

Kazuma: “Then show your evidence for that assertion!” Ryunosuke: “…Very well.” Kazuma: “…!”

Kazuma has an interesting little reaction here as Ryunosuke unflinchingly announces he’ll present his evidence. He’s got to have been expecting Ryunosuke to have something and not just be making things up, but perhaps he’s a little worried about exactly what he has and how damning for him it might end up being.

If you’re playing this part of the trial from chapter-select mode (like I’m doing right now for this commentary), the Court Record will assume you haven’t yet examined Gregson’s trunk to find the passport inside it. Which then makes the fact that I have to do so right now to be able to present the passport kind of awkward, because it will be a vital plot point very soon that Kazuma shouldn’t know that the passport was inside the trunk. So uh. Let’s just have Ryunosuke hide behind his bench to sneakily look at the trunk and take the passport out, Kazuma totally won’t see that, it’s fine.

(Of course, we can assume that canonically Ryunosuke took the passport out of the trunk at some point yesterday so that this isn’t an issue.)

Stronghart: “What’s this? A passport for travel issued to the victim?” Kazuma: “………”

Kazuma keeps himself poker-faced as the passport is presented. But as Ryunosuke shows that he’s very much figured out what it means…

Ryunosuke: “…there’s a distinct possibility he wasn’t even in the country!” Kazuma: “…!”

…he flinches back in shock. It’s a little bit of an odd delayed reaction, but I do think he’s realising here that Ryunosuke having seen that passport is a Bad Sign for him being able to keep his own dodgy actions hidden.

(And maybe he also remembers where Gregson was keeping the passport, so the fact that Ryunosuke has seen it means he’s also found a certain metal trunk that a very damning piece of evidence was left in…)

Kazuma: “……… Ha ha ha ha ha hah! I’m impressed, Ryunosuke Naruhodo! I certainly didn’t expect you to get your hands on that passport.”

But Kazuma regains his composure pretty quickly, of course. He’s fine! He’s definitely fine and proud of his friend for figuring things out and just wasn’t expecting him to have seen the passport, hmmmm, nope, nothing suspicious about that specific point.

Ryunosuke: “What? You mean… you knew about this?”

Meanwhile Ryunosuke is several steps behind those of us in the commentary who know everything Kazuma knows, and is only just catching onto the fact that Kazuma was aware of at least some of this all along. He seems pretty shocked here, presumably at realising that his friend was hiding information from him. He never openly picked up on any of the earlier hints at this – of which there were a lot – perhaps because he doesn’t want to think about how underhanded Kazuma’s capable of being.

Kazuma: “The prosecution’s strategy for this trial has been laid down by the Crown prosecution office:”

Instead of directly answering this question, and also diverting the conversation entirely away from the matter of the passport before he gives too much away, Kazuma goes on to explain that this whole angle about smuggling was something he was ordered to do. He says it was from the Prosecutor’s Office, and I guess on a technical level it was, but let’s be real – it was Stronghart. Kazuma probably even knows this, given their blatantly rehearsed opening statement… but it seems like directly calling out Stronghart for this is not a risk he’s willing to take when there isn’t much reward for it.

Kazuma: “I think the Prosecutor’s Office is trying to hide something.” Ryunosuke: “What?!” Kazuma: “And now that you’ve expertly disproven their assertion… I intend to reveal what I believe that something to be.” Stronghart: “What are you playing at, Prosecutor Asogi?”

Stronghart is glaring at Kazuma, clearly Not Happy at him going against orders like this. Again: those orders were so obviously from him, especially since it was all to hide Gregson’s role as the Reaper’s tactician, which Stronghart in particular would quite like to keep hidden, thanks.

Kazuma: “A courtroom is a forum for the truth, My Lord. Which is why it’s my duty to present all the facts, without exception.”

Kazuma’s entire speech here, and particularly these lines, really give the sense that he cares a lot about doing things honourably and without corruption in order to uncover the whole truth. Which, in principle, he does!

And yet. All the facts, without exception? He hasn’t exactly been keeping to the word of that, now, has he – and he still isn’t planning to.

Stronghart: “Let me guess… This was your intention from the outset, wasn’t it?”

Of course it was; of course Kazuma wanted to reveal Gregson working for the Reaper, just to paint an even bigger picture of how completely terrible van Zieks is. It doesn’t take much for Stronghart to figure that Kazuma planned this all along, either. There was a bit in Stronghart’s office during yesterday’s investigation, in which Kazuma was being told off for going off the rails with Vigil in that day’s trial. Stronghart ordered him to stay in line next time, and he mentioned to Ryunosuke that if Kazuma continued not to, “I will be forced to take steps”. Apparently those steps amounted to “script his approach to the trial and oversee it as the judge to make sure he stays in line”. And of course he still didn’t, because Kazuma is stubborn and doesn’t bow to authority for the heck of it.

But like… surely Stronghart would have known there’d be a good chance Kazuma wasn’t going to behave, even being directly overseen like this? What further steps was he planning to take if (when) Kazuma inevitably didn’t?

…Apparently, the answer to this is “nothing at all (other than some displeased glares)”. So that whole mini plotline about this amounted to barely anything. I guess it gives Stronghart an excuse to be the judge for the final trial days, but honestly I wouldn’t have batted an eye at him doing that anyway, minor powerplay with Kazuma or no.

I’d thought, on my first playthrough, that Kazuma’s defiance here was going to lead to Stronghart realising he can’t control Kazuma and that he needs to get rid of him, therefore causing Stronghart to deliberately nudge things towards getting Kazuma arrested once the assassin thing is revealed a little later in the trial. It would have made perfect sense! Kazuma ought to be just as much if not more of a threat that Stronghart would want to get rid of than van Zieks is, given that he’s just proven himself uncontrollable and has a lot more reason to seek the truth about the Professor case than van Zieks does. But somehow, canonically, Stronghart just shrugs and decides, nah, getting rid of van Zieks is totally still the greater priority, for some reason, let’s just let things continue like this.

Grumble grumble Kazuma should have been arrested, look at how much sense it would have made.

(It isn’t even made at all clear why Stronghart is so determined to get rid of van Zieks in the first place. I’ve seen it suggested elsewhere that it’s because, what with him vying for promotion, he wants to put an end to the Reaper at last and pin it all on the poor convenient scapegoat so that none of it can be traced back to him. I guess that’s the most reasonable explanation, but it'd be nice if there was some proper indication of it somewhere in-story.)

Anyway yes, Kazuma dramatically announces that Gregson was on a mission for the Reaper that day.

Kazuma: “The prosecution made an assertion in court yesterday:” Kazuma: [yesterday] “Inspector Gregson was investigating the identity of the Reaper. When he discovered the location of the man’s secret hideout… he was killed. As I’m sure everyone can imagine… by the Reaper’s hand!” Kazuma: “But in reality… the truth is the opposite of that.”

He makes sure to clear up any confusion caused by his previous argument by citing it and pointing out it was incorrect. But conveniently, he doesn’t mention the fact that he already knew it was incorrect when he made it yesterday, because unlike the rest of the police force, he did not learn about Gregson working for the Reaper only yesterday afternoon.

Kazuma: “Barok van Zieks never carried out any of the actual killings. Whenever the Reaper’s victims lost their lives, he always had a cast-iron alibi. Which tells us… that he must have had an accomplice.”

Sure, Kazuma, it definitely tells us that, because Barok van Zieks must definitely be the Reaper, no other possibility. This couldn’t possibly tell us that maybe van Zieks just isn’t actually the Reaper at all.

(Granted, he is thinking along the right lines, since the real Reaper mastermind also does not carry out the killings himself. He also just knows that to be a fact, since he’s had Gregson approach him as merely the Reaper’s tactician. But his logic for arguing this here is based entirely on his tunnel-visioned “van Zieks is definitely the Reaper” premise and not anything rational.)

Susato: “We also arrived at the same conclusion, didn’t we? That Inspector Gregson was operating as the Reaper.”

You and Ryunosuke didn’t exactly “arrive at that conclusion”, though, Susato. Van Zieks told you that he’d figured it out during his investigations, and you believed his judgement, that’s all.

Ryunosuke: “Barok van Zieks is not the Reaper!” Kazuma: “A predictable response… from someone who’s advocating for the man.”

Nice mental deflection there, Kazuma. Ryunosuke’s totally only insisting this because it’s his job to as a lawyer, definitely not at all because he genuinely believes in van Zieks and he might be right to or anything, nope, no need to think about that possibility.

Ryunosuke argues that Gregson couldn’t have been acting as the Reaper on the Grouse because nobody was killed there.

Kazuma: “…Pfft!” Ryunosuke: “What’s so funny?” Kazuma: “You’re right, of course. No suspicious deaths were reported on board that ship. But I think perhaps you’ve missed the point. That’s precisely why Inspector Gregson lost his life!”

It’s kind of painful how Kazuma seems to think this is amusing. Van Zieks murdering Gregson for the oh-so-terrible slight of not killing his target this one time is so obvious in Kazuma’s head that he snickers at the thought that Ryunosuke stumbled into helping him argue that.

Ryunosuke: “What?!”

Understandably, Ryunosuke has no idea why Kazuma seems to think that makes sense, because it doesn’t.

Kazuma: “There’s no question that Tobias Gregson was heavily involved in the Reaper’s activities. You may just be an apprentice, but if you’ve spent any time at Scotland Yard, you must have heard rumours…”

Rumours aren’t evidence, Kazuma! Granted, he also cited just a moment ago that Gregson’s secret notebook contains details of the assassination plots, which is actually evidence, but it is something that he tries to bring the rumours into it too. Perhaps it’s that he knows for a fact Gregson was part of the Reaper for reasons he can’t reveal without incriminating himself, so it’s frustrating him that he still can’t quite treat it as fact in court, leading to him trying to back it up in flimsy ways as well as solid ones. Alas, how much easier Kazuma’s job in this trial would be if he was just willing to incriminate himself.

--- Testimony 2 ---

Ryunosuke: “I know Judge Jigoku! And I saw him the day before yesterday! Here in London! So I know for a fact that the man hasn’t been assassinated!” Kazuma: “As I said… the Reaper failed.” Ryunosuke: “Oh…” Kazuma: “Gregson missed his chance to kill his mark and returned to British shores.”

One thing the narrative never properly discusses about Gregson’s mission here is… was he even supposed to kill his mark in the first place? Gregson was the tactician, not the actual assassin. It’s his job to investigate the marks and figure out the best opportunities to kill them, and then to pass that information onto the assassin who will do the actual deed. If Gregson goes on a trip to investigate a mark with an assassin in tow, surely that’s just an information-gathering mission? Surely Gregson himself would usually try not to be present during the actual killings?

Granted, that’s all moot in this instance since this was never a real Reaper mission, and actually Kazuma was sent along so that he would, in theory, kill Gregson, but still. I guess the narrative just never discusses this because it would unnecessarily complicate things. And clearly we cannot be bringing up any possible flaws in Kazuma’s very sensible logic here, right.

Kazuma: “But the Reaper wouldn’t tolerate the mistake. So he killed the inspector… personally. The Reaper of course being the accused… Barok van Zieks!” Stronghart: “It’s… an undeniably logical argument.”

It really isn’t!!!!! There are so many things wrong with this argument that it’s honestly kind of hilarious.

It’s ridiculous that the Reaper would get so mad at Gregson failing to kill the mark when he’s not even supposed to be the assassin – as I said, this was surely just an information-gathering mission if Gregson was there. Even if it wasn’t, the killing itself is still not Gregson’s job. The Reaper should be getting mad at Kazuma for failing, if anyone.

It’s also just ridiculous that the Reaper would go so far as to kill any henchman of his for one small mistake that didn’t actually have any negative consequences. Gregson can still try again, surely? Sometimes unexpected things come up that make assassinations not safe to go for without getting caught! If he killed his men for every tiny thing like this, he’d run out of men very quickly.

It's also ridiculous that the Reaper, a very careful serial killer who has kept himself hidden for ten whole years, would apparently carry out this retribution by shooting Gregson in a house in a populated street, thus immediately getting himself caught red-handed like the most bumbling criminal imaginable.

And of course, this entire argument hinges on the assumed premise that Barok van Zieks is the Reaper, something Kazuma has still not shown any proof for whatsoever.

And, even if we somehow take everything about this argument as solid, it still only “proves” a potential motive for van Zieks committing the crime! It does not prove that he did it!

But Kazuma realises none of this ridiculousness. No, of course van Zieks is so petty and vindictive as to murder his henchmen for one tiny mistake that isn’t really even part of their job, and of course he’s stupid and bumbling enough to get himself caught for it, and of course he is definitely the Reaper, because he is The Worst Person Ever.

Stronghart agreeing that this argument is logical is laughable – but then, Stronghart is apparently (for some unclear reason) still on the Let’s Get Van Zieks Convicted train, so he’s happy to agree with anything that’ll let him do that so long as nobody questions it.

Ryunosuke: (Kazuma… You planned for the trial to go this way all along, didn’t you?)

Which even Ryunosuke isn’t doing! He’s only marvelling at Kazuma having planned this – if anything, the way he’s thinking this reads as if he feels cornered. He’s not at all considering that this is a terrible argument actually. I would side-eye his response to this the most, since he doesn’t have such a good excuse for being wrong as Kazuma or Stronghart, but… I suppose this just speaks to how much Ryunosuke idolises his best friend. It doesn’t occur to him to ever expect Kazuma’s arguments to be flawed, because Kazuma’s the best at what he does, right?

I love the sheer audacity of van Zieks striding up to the witness stand during his own trial and slamming his leg on it to express his displeasure at the bullshit going on. It’s so very him. And I really can’t blame him right now.

Kazuma: “The accused has no right to speak uninvited in court. You will return to the dock.”

Kazuma is Not Happy. He may have been fine with calling van Zieks to testify unnecessarily yesterday, but in that instance, he was in control and was doing so to prove van Zieks to be a terrible liar. Can’t have van Zieks speaking out of turn and saying things that might make people think he’s not a horrible person.

Also, one little detail I enjoy during this bit is that the angle of Kazuma’s eyeline in his poses while he’s addressing van Zieks is just slightly lower than normal. It gives the subtle sense that he’s not looking van Zieks in the eye. Of course he wouldn’t want to do that.

Van Zieks: “That girl is no detective.” […] Van Zieks: “Repeating rumours heard around the Yard… Reading entries from a notebook of unconfirmed origin… That’s not testimony. It’s practically a script. No doubt the rest of this trial will go exactly as you’ve clearly planned.”

Van Zieks is essentially accusing Kazuma of being corrupt, of having rigged the entire trial to get him convicted unfairly. And it’s not that Kazuma isn’t being kind of corrupt right now, what with his very terrible argument that Stronghart is conveniently choosing to agree with… but it’s not really in the way that van Zieks is suggesting here.

The first testimony we had today, about the smuggling, really was practically a script. That whole line of argument was bullshitted by the Prosecutor’s Office (aka: Stronghart) to come up with something to hide the truth about Gregson acting for the Reaper. And Gina, a very inexperienced detective who doesn’t know much of what’s going on and is the most willing to accept anything that doesn’t involve Gregson working for the Reaper, was called to give the testimony, even though all she was really doing was reciting what she’d been told to say about the smuggling. And Kazuma didn’t like that he had to script that part of the trial, and was happy when Ryunosuke managed to disprove it for him!

This second testimony of Gina’s is a lot less scripted, though. She’s stating actual facts about what’s written in Gregson’s secret notebook (the notebook she found, so she’s a relevant person to testify about it), and the purpose of the testimony is to prove that Gregson was indeed working for the Reaper. This is something that van Zieks knows to be true thanks to his own investigations, some of which involved that very notebook! And Gina is the one person who’s actually trying to argue against this angle on Gregson in her testimony, by adding an unwarranted personal-opinion line at the end about how surely he was really just investigating the Reaper. So she’s hardly a witness who’s biased towards Kazuma’s case.

The actual problem here is that Kazuma is taking the true and backed-up facts that Gregson was working for the Reaper and went on a Reaper mission that day, and using those to spin a thoroughly flawed argument about how this means that van Zieks, who is totally the Reaper, totally killed him. Van Zieks… doesn’t quite seem able to see that. His own hatred of Kazuma is twisting his judgement just a little out of whack on this matter, too.

(It’s pretty amusing that van Zieks’s mistake here is that he’s assuming Kazuma is being corrupt in a more competent way than how he is actually being corrupt. Everybody is overestimating Kazuma’s ability to form a coherent argument here. Which is fair, because Kazuma really is so much better than this the rest of the time!)

Kazuma: “………”

Kazuma’s response to van Zieks insinuating that he’s rigged this testimony is nothing but a silent glare. Maybe he feels somewhat secure here, because at least he knows that he hasn’t really rigged the testimony at all.

(He was trying to bring the rumours into it, though. Van Zieks isn’t wrong to call him out on that bit.)

Van Zieks: “In your mind, I’m sure I am the Reaper… who sent your father to the gallows all those years ago.” Kazuma: “…!”

Kazuma remains in the same pose, but his text box implies a slightly more intense reaction to van Zieks bringing up his father, because of course. I really like how van Zieks is able to empathise with Kazuma to some extent and understand how he must feel about the death of his father, even though van Zieks believes that Genshin deserved it!

Van Zieks: “But you’re in danger of becoming a far more sinister Reaper yourself… by attempting to have me condemned with this feeble excuse for testimony.” Kazuma: “What did you say?”

This is the only part of van Zieks’s words that gets a verbal rise out of Kazuma. Of course he’s especially not pleased at the insinuation that he’s being worse than van Zieks himself in the way he’s approaching this. And, hey, while van Zieks is off about the precise ways in which Kazuma’s being corrupt right now, he’s not wrong to suggest that at all! Kazuma, please take a step back and look at yourself before you become the very kind of demon that you’re trying to fight.

This delightful little exchange gets interrupted by Susato and Ryunosuke, as the latter appeals for van Zieks to remain in the stand for the cross-examination, since he might know important information. It’s almost like he’s the one who actually has proper information on the testimony’s topic of Gregson being part of the Reaper, because he literally agrees with what the testimony’s arguing! Not such a corrupt testimony, really, is it, van Zieks?

(This trial day is short enough that it isn’t split apart with a save point, but I have so much to say about it that I’m splitting it into two anyway! So I’m stopping here, just before we start the actual cross-examination.)

#ace attorney #great ace attorney #the great ace attorney #the great ace attorney chronicles #tgaa #dgs #dai gyakuten saiban #the great ace attorney resolve #the resolve of ryunosuke naruhodo

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lucrezianoin · 5 months

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Uhmmm... hi, yes, it's me again. With another question that urges me to poke your brain (and media storage - I suppose you have such a thing) in regards of Astarion's changes throughout the patches. Apologies. Do you happen to have a video of the first night (after the tiefling party, tav/durge being bitten during the act) from before patch 3 and after patch 5 by chance? Apparently they made changes to the amount of sweat and added a trickle of blood to his mouth corner which is still there during the conversation the morning after..? Do you know / want to find out if it's true? (I would check it myself but still haven't updated due to my current playthrough being modded and I can't abandon Astarion while Cazador is still alive.)

Yesss!!! I haven't checked so I'm curious to! I'm gonna record a video today for patch 5. But you can see the old scene from way back in August here:

https://youtu.be/rYTS8YqX2hI?si=8pSiKCxdcvIyv1us

I'll update this ask with a link to the new scene!

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bluerose5 · 4 months

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Listen, listen, listen. I saw the poll results, but I couldn't resist. A little winding down fic/snippet that is purely indulgent to wrap up my writing for today. 🥰

For context, the way I'm approaching my Fenris in BG3 playthrough is that this is a true crossover. Post-DA2 Fenris encounters a Fade rift during DAI timeline. Crack fic magic happens, maybe his lyrium markings interacted with the rift. Either way, he ends up in Faerûn.

“What do you want?” Fenris bit out, sharpening his blade with more force than necessary. “Did you come to mock me about how crazy I am, too?”

Wyll frowned, then shook his head.

“No, not at all.” He took a seat upon the ground a careful distance from him nevertheless, eyeing his greatsword with caution. “I was simply concerned about you, is all.”

“Concerned about me?” Fenris sneered at him. “You don't even know me, mage, and I hardly need your pity.”

“Good thing that I'm offering understanding then, not pity,” Wyll replied, ever so patient. “I need not know you to understand that being dragged away from your home and into a new land is a lot to take in.” He spared him a bittersweet smile. “And quite the culture shock, too, from the sound of things.”

“Hmph,” Fenris grunted, offering no more than that.

But someone didn't seem to take the hint.

Or blatantly ignored it.

“Where are you from?” Wyll asked. “What's it called?”

Fenris paused, looking at his reflection in the blade.

It felt like a whole other lifetime since he was there, even if it couldn't have been more than a few days.

Eventually, he answered, “Thedas.” He glanced up at him. “I'm from Thedas. Tevinter, specifically.”

“Do you mind if I ask you about it?”

“Yes, I do mind,” Fenris muttered, “but ask me again later.” He sheathed his sword. “Maybe the answer will be different.”

#bg3 #da2 #fenris #wyll ravengard #fenris x wyll #crossover ship #another one to add to my growing list of rarepairs #bluerose writes #fenris in bg3 #i have so many thoughts about these two

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anathemafiction · 2 years

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tgr has been on my mind a lot lately and today something just randomly occurred to me. so uhhhh....if lance was assigned to follow the mc all day....and if the mc went to the devil's bridge...... and this took me a while to realise because i've never made that choice (and never will again lmao) other than just one time during a corrupted mc playthrough, BUT..... if the mc killed the bridge's guardian, then that means that lance not only knows that the mc did it but literally witnessed it himself, RIGHT??? and he hasn't said anything about it yet omg.... i am suddenly getting increasingly suspicious that the consequences of this choice will come back to bite the mc in the ass very badly lmao. i mean, for good reason ofc. that's what you get for being a murderhobo and killing people left and right lol. but i'll say, i am very relieved that i don't have to worry myself about the consequences of this choice in my canon because my mc would never do it. also ngl, i'm kinda scared of lance now...... like omg, if he really knows then he hides it so well???

Heavy Spoilers

Lance did follow you all day. Not every second, of course, and not always as close as he'd like, but if he couldn't see you, he was following your footsteps from afar. He followed them to the Devil's Bridge, if you ventured that far.

Whatever happened there was between you and its guardian, but… But. If violence was indeed conducted, then it doesn't take much to connect two points. One, the guardian's dead body is being carried away by the Inquisition. An Inquisition that would never take a life before they could, well, inquiry it. And two, you were the last person he saw leaving that little secret nook in the Devil's Bridge.

No, it doesn't take Lance much to put two and two together.

As for hiding the knowledge? Do the black deed and go outside in Chapter 6 to see the moon. A bard will be there, plucking away a melancholic tune. Approach him, tell him you're sorry about his friend, and you may see a glimpse of the face behind the mask. Also, just for fun, tell him you'll miss seeing his hair right at the end, after Rafael's interrogation. And see if even a spy can't sometimes hold everything in.

#debated answering this or not #but this is the first time anyone made that connection and... i want to answer damn it #plus the extra small scenes won't probably be seen by anyone #but you're right anon some decisions you make will come to haunt you once more #tgr spoilers #Lance #The Golden Rose #the devil's guardian #hints

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agorejessstone · 5 months

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How Hira Changed My Life - DRAMA

At just 29 years old, I was diagnosed with Uterine Cancer.

Sort of the cherry on top of a sundae made Sjogren's.

As the eldest daughter of a lower middle class American family, I was responsible for more than just my education growing up.

While I was an avid writer, reader, dancer, artist, and vocalist, I was never given the same opportunities as my siblings. When they were being totted off to this practice or that recital, I was forced to focus on my homework, and whichever sibling was not old enough to attend.

That's not to say I didn't get to play a sport or join a club here and there, but overall, I was heading down a path of self destruction.

A people pleaser, avidly ignoring all the issues I'd acquired along the way, in pursuit of other's happiness.

There is nothing quite like a near-death experience to make you reevaluate your life.

6 years ago, I beat cancer, or at least, began my journey into remission, where I remain for the time being.

I decided that it was time to put down the dish rag, quit all but one of my three jobs, and get to know myself better. I'd carried the need to be the caretaker in to adulthood, and the effects were devastating.

I set out to write and publish my first full length novel. I'd written plenty before, but I never had the time, energy, or confidence to publish.

In July of 2021, I published my very first novel in a six part series that I am still working on today: Legend of the Sylph, but that wasn't all I wanted to do.

In 2016, I'd started a podcast, during my diagnosis, I'd been forced to focus on my health, and put that podcast on hold.

By 2018, fond memories resurfaced, and I decided it was time to try again. Heiress Anonymous was born as a faceless online artist, with a heart of gold, and a lot of stories to tell. I even included a weekly advice section, and things were going pretty well.

Until my youngest brother took his own life January 2019, 2019.

Being one of only two siblings that I was close to, and only 19, that loss shook the very core of our family, and it nearly defeated me a second time.

Struggling to keep my depression, anxiety, PTSD and bipolar under control, I did the only thing I thought I could do.

I got help.

During my inpatient therapy, I spent a lot of time reflecting on what made me happy, so that when I left that place, I could find something, anything, that made life seem less like wading through the layers of hell, slowly as an ant through tar.

I'd lost so many pieces of myself and I was tired of slapping a bandaid on a gaping wound and telling myself, and everyone else, it was just a scratch.

Dealing with everyone else's needs and desires, while neglecting my own was causing my Sjogren's to flare up more often than it should. My body wasn't cooperating, and my mind, oh that poor fella was more foggy than a black and white film.

Again, I started to do things I was passionate about.

I started with an online game after Duskwood's completion.

Each month, I'd write a new story, and a team of artists would help me develop a location map, clues, and characters for up to 30 people to play. It was the most fun I'd had in a while.

During this time, I was also playing other immersive games.

Mystic Messenger, The Seven Endgame series, and The Sign.

During my playthrough of the Seven series, I happened upon some... rather cancellable translation errors. In a moment of "Please don't cancel the only games I enjoy", I typed up an email to Reality Games, the developers, offering to scan the rest of their games for similar issues.

I was surprised when my wonderful friend Mel emailed me back, offering to let me test and correct The Healing, their upcoming title.

I accepted right away.

Then I had a thought... What if I took the team I'd been working on games with, made an actual game?

Astro Hollow was born. (Hopefully we'll be completed by 2025. It's not easy now that I have such a small team.)

During The Healings production, I asked if there were any unfilled roles. After knowing me for some time. Mel suggested Hira, and the rest is history.

Reality Games Fandom group was started on FB.

There, I met many great fans.

And some not so great fans.

One of them stood out to me. Stefi, who plays Ina.

She came to me as a fan, but we became fast friends. Similar to some of the others. She expressed her desire to become a voice actress, but was hesitant.

I spent weeks, months even, building her up, encouraging her, offering to help coach her lines, etc.

I introduced her to the group, set her up to mod the RG Fandom so she could learn the ropes and get used to fan engagement.

I even invited her to co-host a podcast.

Things seemed to be running smoothly. Until she decided that she was too busy to steam, but with the German meet and great looming, and her insistence that she go, I wholeheartedly understood.

I offered to hold her place on the podcast, until she had more time.

Tongue Tied Games and I had chatted before on reddit. Imagine my surprise at how small the world is, when I found out he played Charlie! We streamed together for the first time about a year ago, and we just clicked.

Preston and I became fast friends as well. (Cedrik - The Sign EN) His sense of humor is the stuff of legends.

I met all sorts of nice people.

Serge definately stands out to me. Such an amazing, witty guy.

I can't say enough good things about the Author's.

Daniel and Tim especially.

I'd forgotten how dark the internet can be, with all the light surrounding me.

I hadn't stopped to think about the fans, and how this could easily turn into an introverts parasocial hellscape.

For months, I tried to be the bigger person.

I ignored the whispers, the rumors, the blatant disrespect, but something happened that made me realize that if I don't stick up for myself, no one else will.

So here I am, explaining how one of the most important turning points in my life, has become the darkest time.

A fan, whom I will not name, and whom I've never had a conversation with, immediately disliked me. For the past 8 months, I've tried and tried and tried to figure out who or what or why this happened. They don't seem to know themselves. But to anyone that would listen, I was "mean". I didn't "value my friendships".

I was so dead set on not disrupting the community I loved, that I didn't speak up.

Ina was one of those people who turned their back on me.

I asked them why they'd take their word over mine, after everything I'd done.

I'd vouched for them, coached them, let them sit with me while I edit, introduced them to the group, supported them, helped them learn and grow, shared with them, both professionally and privately.

I could not fathom this turn of events.

In fact, I had not even considered it as the catalyst for her quitting the podcast.

It wasn't until a very dear friend of mine, nearly took her life, because she was bullied by this very same member (I'd give you there name, but honestly, I suspect there are many many names they go by) that I'd finally had it.

See what I mean?

I'm quick to defend and protect other people, but I'll let others tear me apart before I disrupt the peace.

I reached out to my mods, and let them know what was happening. They were appalled, to say the least. One even tried to mediate, but of course that didn't work out.

There was nothing to mediate.

This was a para social nightmare.

Growing up, being sickly, I'd never found myself beautiful, but in recent years, that has changed.

Health and happiness have made me a better person, physically and mentally.

Imagine my surprise when I was edged out by women who were intimidated by me, in a group that I was part of, long before most of them.

Imagine consitently helping others, and being forced to step back for a few months, only to come back to someone new, determined to make themselves "Queen PICK ME" or some shit.

I truly still do not understand it.

I've tried countless times to figure it out, but in the end, these are people who want to keep someone to themselves.

Who flirt with a stranger online, thinking they know them, but chastise anyone else who dares to do the same.

I'd seen it.

I'd recognized it.

I choose to ignore it.

FFS - I've got someone I care about already. Who in their right mind would intentionally ruin that for someone they've never even met? Someone they don't know? That's just a silly thought to have.

It has to be jealousy....

Do you know how many times I've been told that, and chose to ignore it, because I cannot fathom what there is to be jealous of?

After I shared my story with mods, the universe answered with a call of it's own.

Message after message from others within the community, who'd been wronged by this person.

Who'd felt unwelcome in the community.

Who'd been attacked, bullied even, out of the groups.

I was shattered.

A near death, a dozen victims.

I reached out to the group owners, and cleaned up my own, but no one made a move to correct the behavior.

Is that what being an "influencer" is?

Should I be reaping the benefits without any of the responsibility?

No.

I refuse to let people suffer, because I don't want to speak up.

I was scared, truth be told, because I thought if I just ignored it, it would go away.

By time I realized that wasn't the case, so many other people had been influenced by this person's word.

This person, whom I'd never had a conversation with.

This person, who I'd promoted their "fan art".

This person, who was continually looking for excuses to hate me.

This person, who clearly knows nothing about me.

And yet, this person was going to win.

I haven't said a word in 8 months.

I've blocked and removed myself where ever I can, but this person, these people really, still haunt me.

The horde gets larger every day I stay silent.

The one who said they weren't feeling the podcast, took the name I had for the post finale of Orphans, and the people I had invited, and did their own, but I knew that was happening, and said nothing.

Until someone came to me and asked me, "Weren't you the reason that Stefi joined the cast as Ina?"

I replied yes, and the flood gates opened.

Stefi was a fan.

She came to me as Hira. Said she liked the character.

We started to chat. Became friends.

I encouraged her to email her audition to the team.

I reached out to the team and told them to give her a chance.

I coached her lines from the first few episodes.

I GOT HER THE ROLE AS INA.

She now gives credit to TT.

If you don't believe me, I have the podcasts still up on YouTube, where we talk about it in detail.

At first, I was sure that she was being manipulated.

Part of the reason that I was adamant that she join the team, was who she is as a person.

She's LGBTQ and on the spectrum. It's very important to me, especially after all of my struggles, to make sure that everyone finds something they're passionate about and doesn't let anything hold them back.

For months I thought she was being taken advantage of. Manipulated.

To discover otherwise was absolutely heartbreaking for me.

Imagine how shattered I was, when someone from the German fan meet up, said she's been telling people that since the German Fan Meet and Great in AUGUST 2023.

I feel used.

I'm at a low I'm not sure I can recover from, especially because she continues to say and do things just to get at me.

I've done what I can to block and move on, and I continue to leave communities I cherish, because of these ghosts.

It's like I'm Sandy, but for real this time, and trapped in that damned Orphanage.

Will we share a similar fate?

Will I let devistation consume me?

Have I made the right decisions?

Time will tell.

I'm leaving most names out of this on purpose, but I'm setting the record straight on how Ina came to be part of the community.

I'm so sick and tired of supporting people from behind the curtain, while actively being used as a doormat.

I love working for RG.

This has nothing to do with the company itself.

Cast will be what cast will be.

I love voice acting. I love writing, so even the editing process is fulfilling, but man I still had a lot to learn about how selfish the industry is.

How competitive.

How jealous and manipulative.

Watching people argue over someone they've never met.

Someone they've never seen.

Someone they don't know.

Watching them gatekeep the communities they stay in, running off anyone who isn't an OG.

Kind of defeats the purpose of supporting that creator, when you're driving good people out.

I'm starting to wonder if the internet isn't going to be our downfall.

If we'll ever truly understand the effects of parasocial relationships.

While I love the work I do, and many of the people who follow me, I cannot condone gatekeeping, lying, manipulation, cheating, stealing, copying, and outright bullying.

Stay in your lane.

At the end of the day, you don't know me.

Very few of you do.

You don't know her, him, they, them.

You just don't.

Speaking or acting on the behalf of others, lying about the people who helped get you where you are, no matter how you feel about them, is just plain messed up.

As with everything else in my life, I've learned a lot here.

I don't love parasocial relationships.

They fascinate me, until they piss me off.

Obviously this is NOT all of what occurred here. There are plenty of screenshots, and stories, but the bottom line is that I'm being pushed around, and I'm tired of staying silent. I work too hard, and help too many people, while barely being able to lift my head up to do so.

I've had it.

If you want to join a discord community where bullying, will not be tolerated: https://discord.gg/C6Edjk3AhX

Please remember. Just because you recognize their face and you know about them through the internet, does not mean you KNOW them.

Please treat actors/streamers as human beings, but also as "entertainers".

Respect their privacy.

Do not speak on their behalf.

Do not bully their followers, even if they are extremely hands off, or they expect the community to police.

You can easily turn one of the BEST things that's ever happened to someone, into one of the worst.

The results can be deadly.

#hira #the healing #the sign #orphans #reality games #reality games fandom #voice actor #voice acting #duskwood #ina #sandy

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something-pithy · 5 months

Text

(Quick) Notes and an Update: Come and Knock on My Door...

pictured above: Ascended Astarion before this Tav is like "Nah, bruh, i think this might be toxic OK gotta go bye" 5 Years Later...

Happy Tuesday, my sweet summer children!

And y'all salty ones, too :D

So Chapter 12 is up, and it's deadass over 5000 words of Astarion at different levels of unhinged and Tav at different levels of drunk af.

looool I mean, I had a lot of fun with it.

Quick Notes:

ON THE MF EPILOGUE:

OMG y’all, so Patch 5, amirite?!

Given the nature and content of an echo, a stain, OBVIOUSLY I AM EXCITE.

A couple of things for the record:

Everything through Chapter 12 of this story was written as published before I saw any type of Ascendant epilogue.

I don’t have an Ascendant Epilogue of my own to review because though I was in EA from jump and have 1700+ hours in this game (lol michaeljordangetsomehelp.gif), I've only completed one playthrough so far and I definitely failed the constitution check to complete the game with Astarion Ascended (listen, I love writing Ascendant Astarion but at the core of my being I'm here for ProcessingTrauma!Astarion and in the game, that's my SpawnStarion, baby)

My beta watched a video of the Ascendant epilogue and took notes, then gave me a bulleted list an echo, a stain was right about both in the parts that have been published, the parts that are still in progress, and the notes/outline for the rest of the story... loool it's a long list. tl;dr an echo, a stain remains pretty canon-compliant even post-epilogue.

I'm going to stop promising things about what I'm going to write in my notes. I really always do this with the best intentions, but once I drop a chapter, very frequently the day gets away from me because dropping the chapter took longer than I thought and/or I have other things to do.

If you have a specific meta question, don't hesitate to ask! I'm a teacher and a librarian and there's nothing I believe harder than "There are no dumb questions."

Normally I try to put out two new chapters each week, but after I dropped Ch 12 I started working on what was supposed to be Ch 13 and this motherfucker turned out to be 24 pages / 10K words.

I'm going to do my damnedest to get it posted today, but the revision process on this thing is already more involved than usual for a number of reasons. My incredible beta whomst I don't even deserve and I are working hard on figuring out how the MANY different things that happen in those 10K words best go together, best fit into the story, and also fix my Britishisms because during that torrent of word vomit I definitely started slipping into my native New Yorker / New Jerseyan f-bomb city patterns here and there. looool

Aight beautiful people, that's what I've got for now. I actually honestly do have about 2K words on alignment, good vs. evil, how they work (in my opinion) in BG3 and this story that are going to be pretty relevant to the HECKIN CHONKER of stuff that's coming up soon, but... we'll get there when we get there. Have a delicious day!

#bg3 #astarion bg3 #ascended astarion #astarion x tav #astarion fic #bg3 fic #banter #bard!tav #slow burn #manipulative astarion #tav's insight proficiency tho #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate #tav #astarion meta #i love ascended astarion but he is unhinged #how do i even tag this

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fiction-box · 2 years

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Okay I know you haven't finished my other request yet so I feel a little bad about sending in another one but I am having so many thoughts about my children dsfjagdhdh

I don't wanna monopolize your time so please don't feel rushed at all!! I'm just so glad that someone is making my silly little daydreams a reality <3

Anyway, I recently got to the white heron cup on my replay of 3H which gave me some more ideas 👀 this one is with Felix and Ferdinand:

The professor chose Felix to represent the Blue Lions in the White Heron Cup, despite his very vocal protests (I did this to him on my first playthrough bc I wanted him to have the sword evade skill lmao). Reader was chosen as his practice partner. Reader was never all that passionate about dance—it was just one of those skills they had to learn as a noble—but they're realizing now that maybe it's about the partner? Bc dancing with Felix always leaves their heart racing in the best way possible

Alternatively, reader was chosen to represent the Black Eagles and the one and only Ferdinand von Aegir was assigned as their tutor/partner. Although the professor saw reader's great potential, reader, as a commoner, had never been formally trained in the dances of the nobility. During these practice sessions, reader gets annoyed at Ferdinand for being so particular about everything and for going on about the history of various dance styles. Little do they know though, that this is Ferdie's way of saying "I love you, please spend more time with me."

Feel free to go wherever your inspiration takes you!! I can't wait to see what you write :D

Sorry this took me so long! My life suddenly became quite busy, so I was unable to find the time to write for everyone. Happy October to you and all the others reading this!

I think I did a fairly good job with following your request this time, my lovely! I felt railroaded in a way that still allowed me to provide my own ideas and experiment. Your specificity made things slightly easier on me, and this was such a wonderful idea to write for! I know I say something similar to that line each time, but it's true. These prompts help me indulge in my mind and my hobby without needing to commit too hard to forging a dream out of a few strung-along thoughts.

So, after what must have been a month, here is the fulfillment to your request. My inbox is open, so anyone that wants to send anything in is invited to do so. Until then, enjoy this work!

The stories will be continued under the cut.

Felix:

“Are you considering me as our representative for the White Heron Cup?”

You paused, your walk to your dorm from the library interrupted by what sounded like Felix and Professor Byleth conversing through the walls of the training grounds.

The professor’s voice was muted, but Felix’s reply was all you needed to hear to understand what was going to happen.

“I was joking. You really couldn’t find anyone else?”

So, your teacher had chosen Felix to dance for the White Heron Cup, then? Things could have been worse. She could have elected you, instead.

As you continued your trek back to your dorm, you let out a small sigh. What reason did Professor Byleth have for choosing Felix of all people to participate. Surely there were more eager, more experienced candidates. Annette and Sylvain came to mind.

Whatever her reasons, it really was none of your concern. So long as nothing bad came of it, you were certain she knew what she was doing.

You came to the entrance of your dorm on the second floor, setting down your things on your bed with a sigh (the desk was rather messy from personal notes). Maybe you ought to clean up a bit. It would not do for someone to come into your room, what with it in such a state.

But time got away from you while you tidied up, and soon it was time for lunch. You had no classes today, which was a blessing both because you needed a break and because you needed more time to study for your upcoming certification exam the next weekend.

The trek to the dining hall was much less eventful than this morning’s small commute to your dorm. Everyone else was probably interested in eating, too. Just as you thought, upon entering, the hall was filled with students and knights squeezing in a meal before getting back to work.

You walked up to the line, grabbing your own meal and heading to find somewhere to sit. Scanning the cafeteria, you noticed Annette and Mercedes sitting together in one area, and Sylvain, Dimitri, and Ingrid were sitting together in another. There were Adrestian nobles near them, and the Golden Deer were scattered around the knights.

Maybe it would be better if you just sat alone. Interrupting anyone’s conversation would be rude, after all.

A small table near the back of the room was open, so you took a seat and began to consume your meal. It wasn’t anything special today, just something made with vegetables you suspected your own professor had harvested. Good, but not worth the breath to say so.

Not that there was much else for you to think about.

Lifting your head up, you decided to pay more attention to the people in the dining hall. People watching had always been a small hobby of yours, but getting caught doing so tended to leave you embarrassed.

There was a group of knights sitting at the table across from yours laughing about something. You wondered what it could be. Nothing to do with their job, you hoped.

Marianne and some green-haired Alliance boy were discussing something fervently. Well, it was more like the boy was talking to her and she was just nodding along. The poor girl.

And then here, coming toward you now, was Professor Manuela with her own lunch.

“Hello, dear! What are you doing back here all by yourself? Surely your friends didn’t give you the cold shoulder, now, did they?”

“Oh, no, of course not,” you assured her, “I chose to sit here of my own volition. I have a free day, and I suppose I have been choosing to spend it alone.”

She gave a small sigh, moving to sit across from you, “I hear that. Some days, a girl just needs some alone time.”

You nodded, taking another bite of your meal.

“You know, if you aren’t too busy, would you mind if I asked you a small favor? I need someone to head to the greenhouse for me and grab a few herbs for the infirmary. I just so happen to have a list with me here,” she noted, pulling out such a list from…well, you didn’t want to think about that. “Why don’t you go take a trip to collect them, hm? It would be nice and therapeutic, and I’m in no rush to get them sorted. Take your time in there and enjoy yourself, dear. Just so long as they’re in the infirmary by the end of the day, I’ll be happy.”

As she handed it to you, you accepted the scrap of paper from her hands and scanned over it with your eyes. Nothing too stressful or complicated to grab. Some of these were quite common, and the list was not long in the slightest.

“I would be happy to help! What a wonderful idea.”

Wasn’t it? You would get some much needed relaxation, and once you had more peace of mind, you could focus better on your studies.

“Wonderful! Oh, and there’s no need to let me know when you’ve finished. I’ll be in tomorrow morning to double check everything you collect.”

You finished your food, cleaning everything off the table and preparing to leave, “You can count on me, Professor! I hope the rest of your day goes well.”

Leaving the dining hall, you headed back to your room to get some gloves. It would probably be best to have some form of protection on your hands before handling any of these herbs.

What you did not expect, however, was to run into Professor Byleth instructing Felix on his dancing.

Thankfully, it seemed they hadn’t noticed you yet. Felix was moving with practiced ease as the former mercenary tipped him off on the smallest of errors. He really was doing quite well for what looked like such a simple, boring dance.

Unfortunately, you must have been staring a moment too long. Flicking her eyes away from her student, the professor’s eyes met your own

“Ah, perfect timing! I was just thinking about having someone stand in as a partner!”

Stand-in?

Before you could process what she meant, your teacher had approached you and was leading you by the arm further into their practice area.

“Professor, what are you talking about? I’ve been watching for a moment or two already; Felix was doing just fine on his own! You’ve been working for this long, and I know he’s no stranger to dancing. What is having a partner going to change?”

Quick as ever, she responded, “A partner brings life and flow into a dance. Think of it as communication; we aren’t meant to do it alone. It’s unnatural.”

“Oh…wow, I…did not expect that from you,” you managed.

“It’s something you pick up on by your third festival.”

“Okay then, I guess I don’t really have an excuse…” you began. “If it’s for the house, I’d be happy to help.”

Felix scoffed, “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Oh?” Professor Byleth challenged, “And what is it you have to say?”

“Maybe I’d rather not be seen doing any of this? I didn’t choose to be here, and I certainly don’t need an audience.”

“Better get over it, then,” she frowned, placing you in front of him, “you’ll be having a larger audience than two people when you actually perform.”

He muttered something you couldn’t quite make out.

“Not to interrupt, Professor, but I don’t exactly know the dance he’ll be working on.”

“Oh, that. It’s just an easy foxtrot, nothing too difficult. We’re just working from the ground up, so we’re refraining from implementing other steps until he gets this down.”

“You said I had it down. An hour ago.”

“Felix, I promise you we have not been out here for half that time.”

At the professor’s count, you both began. One of your hands rested on his shoulder while the other was supported by his own hand. You followed along with ease, only slipping up twice in the countless cycles you were made out to perform.

It was strange, though. You almost felt nervous about slipping up, which was different from the nonchalant waltzing you put on with your previous partners. No matter; it was probably just because the house was relying on you both to get this right.

That, and Professor Byleth had more scrutiny in her expression than you thought possible.

Even when you thought you were getting used to the feeling, though, the butterflies never quite went away. It was a simple four step, so what was the big deal?

Actually, what was the big deal? You both had been doing this a long time, and neither of you had received so much as a comment from the professor for at least a few minutes.

You turned to look at her, still remaining in the rhythm of the dance, “Um…Felix is really good at this, professor. He looked fine before and he’s doing well now?”

She gave a tense smile, “Just making sure it stays that way. Doing “well” isn’t going to impress any judges.”

Allowing yourself a small sigh, you turned back to Felix, whose face had turned a light shade of pink. It was surprising. You didn’t think Felix would be tired just by repeating the same four-step.

“Alright, fine. We’ll go with that,” she waved her hand in the air flippantly.

You both stopped, moving apart to stretch and give your legs a small break.

“Okay, now that you two have the base steps, it’s time to incorporate the other aspects of this dance.”

You were practically pushed back into one another, the Professor relentlessly rattling off instructions.

Both of you needed a natural sway. Then, you had to maintain that while spinning continuously throughout the four-step. Relax a bit more, move closer, let your arms look more fluid.

“Thank you for cooperating, so far. The last step is to incorporate the dip at the end of each four-step cycle.”

A…dip?

Felix raised his own brow, “What?”

“What do you mean, “what?” Go on.”

You chimed in, “Professor, I don’t know what a dip is…”

Felix gave a curt nod in agreement, and the two of you waited for an explanation from your instructor.

“You genuinely have no clue what I’m talking about?”

“Would you just get to the point?” Felix scowled. “I’ve wasted enough time out here like this.”

“Maybe it just isn’t part of any traditional Faerghus dances?” you offered. “I can honestly say I have never heard of it.”

It was your professor’s turn to sigh as she put her thumb and middle finger at her temples, “This is going to take longer than I thought.”

She lifted her head, walking toward you and offering her hand, “If I may?”

You took her hand, and with that, Byleth demonstrated the whole dance you both had learned so far to Felix. Then, the time came for whatever this “dip” was.

“You’re going to have to trust me to hold onto you for this to work, do you understand?”

Hold onto me? “I’m not so sure that I do, but I do trust you.”

“Wonderful.” She then turned her head to Felix, “Now, you’ll want to end up with a sort of complimentary stance. One of your feet should be somewhat between the two of hers. This is both for balance and flow; otherwise, this next part will be awkward and unstable.”

Felix allowed himself a moment to study both of your stances, but then your teacher faced you once more and said in a voice loud enough for both of you to hear, “As for you, you’re going to lean back on my hand as I lean forward into you. You’ll keep your feet on the floor and try to balance yourself slightly throughout, but your partner will be the one supporting you. It’s my job not to let you fall.”

You nodded, hoping you understood.

“Okay. Here we go.”

Your grip on the hand holding your own tightened in nervousness as your professor began to lean you back. The further you went, the less balance you seemed to have, you noted. Fortunately, Professor Byleth stopped lowering her arm the moment before you thought you would lose your ability to balance.

“Just remember to relax,” she smiled. “You don’t need to waste energy on holding unnecessary tension. Try easing your grip on my hands and loosening your arms.”

You did so, immediately feeling a sense of ease. It was much better to hold your balance like this.

Slowly, she lifted you back onto your feet, “So there. Hopefully you were watching closely enough to understand, Felix. Now, it’s your turn.”

“Honestly, couldn’t I do this on my own? How hard can it be to bend down and rise back up?”

“Funny. Those sound like the thoughts of a runner-up. Second place is only first for losers, Felix. From the top.”

His brow furrowed as he swapped places with her.

The dance was going wonderful as usual (but that wasn’t normally usual, was it? You remembered feeling bored with your partners at the last party you attended.) until the professor made you both pause. Professor Byleth instructed him as you went through the motions of relaxing and leaning back.

But somehow, this felt different than your dance with your teacher. You knew it wasn’t just because you were being watched, either. Felix was watching you earlier, and the butterflies didn’t appear then, did they?

Perhaps it was the tinge of pink returning to his face, but…

No. No no no. Don’t even go there. He’s just tired, like I must be! You two had been dancing for quite a long time, now. The sun had made considerable progress on its trek through the sky. Not to mention…

You were certain your own cheeks were dusted a similar color.

“Excellent!” your teacher’s voice permeated your thoughts with what must have been the nicest comment on your dancing she had given all day. “Just like that!”

“Again, I-I could have done this without a partner!”

The green-haired woman brought a hand to her chin, “No, no, you have a point.” She turned to you, “Do you think you could get out of that position without Felix moving? I want him to know what this exact pose would feel like if he were actually performing.”

That could prove difficult. The only exit was turning out of his arms, which would mean letting yourself fall to the ground. You weren’t afraid of a little fall from such a short distance above the grass, but Felix would still need to shift his hand to accommodate the movement of your body weight. Not to mention there would be movement required to let go of his hand.

“Sorry,” you answered after looking around for another solution, “I just don’t see how that would be possible.”

A bit of air came from her nose as her lips pursed ever so slightly, “I feared as much. Okay you two, why don’t you come up and we’ll have Felix dance alone one final time before we call it a day?”

“Finally,” Felix groaned, lifting you back up as you quickly recovered from a twinge of vertigo.

You moved a few paces away and turned back around to watch as the professor counted Felix off. He was much more skilled at the dance than he was when you originally observed him. That was saying something since he was already skilled when you first saw him. For the swordsman to perform even better? There would be no mistaking the winner for anyone but the Blue Lion House.

At the end of it all, you said your goodbyes to your teacher and classmate. The greenhouse was still owed a visit, so you scanned over the list once more on your way there.

Maybe Manuela was right. Studying for certification exams could wait. You had already done so much today, so committing to relaxation would be a nice break.

Needless to say, you spent a lot more time with the flowers that afternoon than you had in a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ferdinand:

“That wraps up our time for this morning’s class!” Professor Byleth announced. “I just have a few notes for you all, and then you’ll be free to go.”

The overall mood in the Black Eagles’ classroom seemed warm to you as the sun peeked through the windows. Sure, the seasons were meant to be getting warmer, but Garreg Mach’s central location resulted in only minute climate changes.

“Edelgard. As the leader of your house, you are expected to compel everyone to come to class. Please find a way to ensure Bernadetta arrives next time.”

“Of course,” the Adrestian heir nodded. “I will make a more compelling case in the future.”

A sigh escaped the professor, “It isn’t your fault. I would do something about it myself if Count Varley hadn't sent a notice to the Church about his…displeasure with a commoner's teaching.”

“The rest you already know. Lindhardt, don’t sleep during class…Caspar, don’t shout during class. Dorothea, remember that your seat is next to Ferdinand and not Lady Edelgard.”

As everyone packed their things to leave, Professor Byleth called you to speak with her privately.

“Good morning, Professor,” you greeted. “Was there something you needed?”

“Yes. Do you know anything about the White Heron Cup?”

“The White Heron Cup…? I think Dorothea was telling me a bit about it, earlier. Isn’t that the dance competition held before the Garreg Mach Ball each year?”

“That would be the one.”

“Good to know I’m right,” an amused look was shared between you two, “but I doubt it’s important enough to single me out and talk with me about it.”

“Correct again. For the dance, each House is to choose one representative to compete. I was just informed that I would need to pick someone last night, so I’ve done a bit of thinking.”

“A…representative? Surely you aren’t intending to choose me. I don’t even know how to dance. The most practice I have is from the festivals in my hometown, but even then I tended to sit out and watch.”

Professor Byleth began to ready her own things to leave, “I do intend to pick you. Don’t worry about that too much, though.

“No. I can’t. I refuse, actually, so you’ll just have to go and choose someone else. Have a wonderful day, Professor. Good luck find-”

You were interrupted by your teacher’s hand on your arm pulling you out of the classroom, “Glad to see you’re on board. Now, I’ve already spoken to Ferdinand about helping you learn the waltz. He agreed so quickly I almost thought I misheard him. You know him, though; always ready to do something elegant and noble. Like helping a lady learn to dance.”

“Ow! Wait, you can’t be serious-!”

As you approached the practice area Professor Byleth cleared for the two of you earlier, Ferdinand was already waiting.

“I expect you to know the dance well enough to perform by tomorrow. It’s rather simple, so I can’t see you having any trouble with it.”

“Tomorrow?”

“It will be no problem, Professor! She will practically be an expert by nightfall, I assure you!”

“Nightfall?”

She practically already took her leave, “Well then, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Shall we begin?” Ferdinand turned to you with a small bow, offering his hand.

It all happened so fast you almost thought you had dreamt up the whole encounter, “Begin? I…I’ve never danced before. Not in a way that counts.”

“There is no need to be nervous. We can start slow, and I will tell you everything you need to know!”

You took his hand, and the lesson commenced. He positioned you so that one of your arms rested on his shoulder while the other was held out to your side. Apparently, men led forward with the right foot, so it was your job to lead backwards with your left foot. Back, left, forward, right. A simple box.

But there were other things you needed to remember. The two of you always spun in a circle. Ferdinand always took the same stride, which you would have to match in length to avoid stepping on him.

It all felt like too much, in the moment. Your results were not poor, so long as you gave all your energy to your awareness of your body.

“You are a natural! Surely you have performed this waltz before?”

At the shake of your head, he continued, “Perhaps you are aware of its history, then? This dance was originally created…”

That wasn’t good. Back. Left. It took practically every nerve in your brain to manage shaking your head while staying in the waltz. Now he wanted to ramble about its history? You’d never be able to pay attention…Forward. Right…and learn well simultaneously. Why did he care how good you were at picking it up, anyway?

None of it mattered. There was no way you were going to stay here listening to him go on until nightfall. You would dance until he said you had it down, and then it would be time to leave.

However, with how caught up you were in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized how that affected your dancing.

“S-slow down! It is a dance, not a race!”

“Oh. Sorry,” you weren’t sure if you meant it. “I can’t really focus on what I’m doing when you’re giving me all this information.”

Hopefully, he could take a hint, you thought. But if Ferdinand von Aegir was anything, he was dense. He did not take hints, and throughout your time at the Officer’s Academy, you’ve constantly found yourself cursing him for it.

“That is alright. I am sure you will get it eventually,” the two of you finally managed to bring the tempo back to normal. “After all, this is quite a late age to be learning formal dance for the first time. In fact, I myself began my first lessons when I was…”

Wonderful. Honestly, did the noble do anything but talk? You were sure he heard you when you spoke, but he never actually listened to what you were saying.

Back. Left. Forward. Right. Always spin ever so slightly. Do not step on Ferdinand’s feet. Lead with your left unless you’re moving right. Your arms-

“...that is how the White Heron Ball came to be a Garreg Mach tradition! Interesting, is it not?”

“Wh-what?” just how long had you been dancing? You could have sworn he was just talking about his own history of dance.

“What is it? Is there something wrong?

Back. Ri- no…Left. Forward. “Ferdinand, I don’t know how to put this lightly, but it is really hard to focus with you talking about all of that. I can keep up a conversation, or I can dance. I can’t do both yet.”

“But as I have told you, it is easy! You simply need to count through the beats, match each step to a number, and then keep continual rules in mind.”

At this point, you had lost the rhythm of your waltz. The heel of your boot landed on the toe of Ferdinand’s own, and the two of you stumbled awkwardly until Ferdinand caught his balance. Unfortunately, you weren’t as lucky and fell backwards onto the ground.

“Not quite like that-”

“You don’t say?” you cut him off. At least he was kind enough to help you back to your feet.

He brought you back into your initial position, preparing to pick up again, “Remember to lead backwards with your left foot.”

“I was remembering. Until you distracted me, that is.”

“Distracted you? I have only been helping you this whole time, have I not?”

You took a breath. It would be so easy to blame him for this, but you knew nothing would be solved through an argument. The sooner you figured this out, the sooner you could leave. No reason to hurt one of your allies over it.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just a little frustrated.”

The Adrestian noble began again, prompting you to follow suit almost immediately, “You must adjust your steps to that of your partner’s.”

A frown painted itself on your lips, “Good thing I won’t ever have one.”

“What are you talking about?” he questioned, “This waltz is commonly played at various events. Surely this will not be the only time you will partake?”

You sighed, “Ferdinand, enough. I’m a commoner, remember? I don’t go to…events. We don’t even have dances like this.”

“All the more reason to learn! It would be helpful to incorporate this into the skills of the common people so as to create a more refined society as a whole. Then-”

“I said enough!” you snapped, pushing away from him.

The shock on his face was nothing compared to the anger you felt at his ignorance.

“E-excuse me?”

“Stop talking about commoners like they’re…beasts! We are not animals to be tamed, Ferdinand, we’re people. Real, actual people.”

“I was not trying to imply otherwise-”

“But you did. You do it all the time! Humanity is not found solely within tradition, noble or otherwise. We can be civilized without being formal, you know!”

He didn’t seem to know what to say anymore, it seemed. Good, then. Maybe he would choose to listen for once.

“Take this practice as an example. You’ve been doing this waltz with me for how long now? And I haven’t hurt you or acted without considering you this whole time.” You paused, your throat closing up, “Honestly, I’ve been pitying us both for this position we’ve been placed in. Is an uncivilized, unrefined society capable of pity, Lord Ferdinand von Aegir?”

Nothing. Again. Maybe this was too much? But it wasn’t as if you were going to let him keep talking like that.

You stepped back farther, “Sorry. Here I go ruining it. I talk about being civilized, but I can’t even keep myself in check to verbally defend the people I grew up knowing and loving. Let’s…we can be done, now. I’ll go find the professor and tell her I won’t be able to perform tomorrow.”

So much for relations between allies. Your mind wandered to what you were going to say to your professor. It would be a bad idea to blame it on Ferdinand; Professor Byleth might do some digging, and you didn’t trust him to keep his mouth shut.

‘W-wait!” you had only made it a few paces before the knight called after you.

As you turned to face him, you gave a tight lipped smile, “Don’t worry about it! Really, I’m sure it won’t be any trouble for her to find someone else. I can probably talk Dorothea into it if she isn’t already interested.”

“That is no excuse. Whether you are our representative or someone else is, that does not make up for the things I said,” regret filled his expression, and your own turn came to respond in silence.

He made his way toward where you were standing, his eyes never leaving yours, “I am deeply sorry. I truly did not mean to insinuate such terrible ideas. Perhaps you can help me to…be more aware of these things in the future?”

At last, he had listened to something you told him. Even if he didn’t pay much attention to anything else you said to him, you were glad he at least chose to react to this.

“Of course,” your smile went from tight lipped to full and genuine. “You could start by focusing on teaching me the dance rather than its significance.”

“But both are equally important!” he argued.

“Are they? I am going to have to know this dance for the competition, but I can’t imagine any future where I would need to know the history of it. Or that of any other waltzes, for that matter.”

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, something in his face seemed to fall.

“You…cannot? There is no future where you would see yourself dancing more waltzes?”

“Quite frankly, it doesn’t seem to matter what I imagine. Once my time here is through, I’ll be sent off to lead some noble army. Not much waltzing in that future, I’d guess.”

“I see…”

Why was he acting so weird?

“But,” you tried to cheer him up, “at least I’ll have this one. I can pretend for one night that I have the ability to choose my future. So long as I would be happy in it, I don’t see the problem in dreaming of a life where all I do is dance at formal events like this.”

“Really?”

“Sure!” you laughed, “Though I don’t think I’d be as comfortable dancing with anyone else. I might not be able to get used to a different rhythm, yet.”

That seemed to get his energy back, “Of course! I will be ready whenever you wish to dance, and we can go at whatever pace you wish.”

“Let’s make sure I can actually do the steps correctly, first?”

“Right,” he led you back to the practice area.

The two of you danced a few more times before you finally got the hang of the waltz. Sure, the ball was not for another several days, but you had a feeling Professor Byleth would be pleased with your progress.

Eventually, when the time came, you knew you would need to learn a new dance for your classmates.

But you were getting ahead of yourself. First, you needed to win the White Heron Cup.

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