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verai-marcel · 6 months

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Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 11 of ?)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

AO3 Link is here, my dear.

Word Count: 5,061 (These chapters keep getting longer...)

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Act I, Chapter 11 - The Underdark

A day (and possibly a night, you weren’t sure) had passed since coming down here, and you had been traveling along with the others, staying in the back, guarding their packs whenever enemies came. But you were growing tired; you didn’t have the stamina that they did. You were amazed by the fact that they could all continue pushing onwards, even after multiple fights against strange creatures, and carefully tip-toeing past poisonous fungi that spewed deadly spores.

You started to lag further and further behind. Determined to not be the one to slow them down, you continued to push yourself forward, despite the fatigue tugging at your body.

A small rock led to your downfall. Literally, as you faceplanted after tripping over the damn thing.

You heard your name being called, but it sounded a little faint. You struggled to get up, hating the fact that you were feeling this tired. You’d only been walking, not fighting like the others.

“Perhaps we should make camp,” Astarion said all of a sudden. “I’m sure the rest of you are feeling hungry.”

The others agreed, and even though they were saying that they were wanting to rest anyway, you felt a tinge of guilt. They probably could have kept going if it wasn’t for me.

After some searching, Karlach found a great site, tucked away in the cliffs, surrounded by luminous mushrooms, grasses, and lichen. There was only one path out, two outcrops overlooking waterfalls, and a small pond. The orange-capped mushrooms livened up the place with their color.

“This is lovely,” you said as you explored the perimeter, touching the rocks, the mushrooms, basically everything that you could reach. They were all pleasantly cool to the touch. There was even a small alcove, hidden away, where one could wash up away from prying eyes.

Your energy renewed by seeing the environs, you immediately started setting up a campfire. I wonder how much cured meat we have in the supply packs.

While everyone picked their spots and set up their tents, you made something simple, a tray with meats and hard cheeses that the group had looted on their way into the Underdark. Glad the goblin camp was full of food.

After you laid out the food for everyone, using one of the giant mushrooms as a makeshift table, you went around to look at some of the smaller fungi around the camp. You sniffed each one, and when one of them smelled particularly woodsy and savory, you took a small nibble.

“What are you doing?” Gale exclaimed, sounding as if he was clutching his nonexistent pearls at your impromptu taste test.

“It smelled good,” you replied matter-of-factly.

“It could be poisonous.”

You rolled your eyes. Gods, Gale could be such a worrywort sometimes. “Relax, I sniffed it. It’s fine.”

He looked askance at you.

Just to fuck with him, you grabbed a mushroom, slowly brought it to your mouth, and licked it, staring at him the whole time. It was immensely fun watching the horror and panic on his face.

Huh, this one tastes a bit different—

You blinked and looked down. The mushroom that you had licked was not the tan-colored mushroom you had bit into earlier, but a dark orange-colored one with a similar shape.

Oh shit.

“Uh, I got about five seconds before I go crazy, so please get me an antidote—”

You fell on your face.

***

When you opened your eyes again, you were tied up, laying down on your side on the cool, damp ground. Your hair and your clothes felt wet. You groaned as your entire body groaned in protest at being conscious.

What the fuck—

“Good, you’re awake.”

You craned your neck to see Astarion sitting by the campfire, reading one of his books.

“I wish I wasn’t,” you muttered.

He closed his book and set it in his lap. He turned towards you, sitting primly like a royal duchess. “How much do you remember?”

“Huh? What do you mean? I licked that mushroom and blacked out.”

“I see.” He tipped his head. “And nothing else?”

“Nothing else…” You saw the mischievous grin growing on his face and immediately started to sweat. “What did I do?”

“Oh, not much.”

“Astarion…” You pulled at your bindings, but they only seemed to tighten.

“Would you like me to illuminate you?”

“Tell me or else,” you growled.

“Or else what, darling?”

“I… I won’t brush your hair anymore.”

For a split second, he looked legitimately hurt and you felt guilty. But then he sniffed daintily and turned away from you. “You brute. Now I won’t tell you anything.”

This catty little—

Astarion suddenly burst out laughing. “The look on your face!”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Come now, darling. What’s life without a bit of fun?”

You pressed your forehead against the ground. “Please just tell me what I did.”

He hemmed and hawed for a bit.

“Please?” you begged.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he finally said, giving you a taunting smirk. “First, take a look at yourself.”

You looked down. Your shirt was on backwards and your trousers were on inside-out. “Oh gods.”

“The first thing you did was throw off your shirt, announcing that it was ‘too hot’.”

Your face burned with humiliation.

Astarion looked beside himself with glee. “And then Gale and Wyll chased you around the camp. But you dodged them both, rolling and tumbling around like a child. You even managed to remove your pants while doing all this.”

You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Then Gale summoned a mage hand to hold you in place while Shadowheart and Lae’zel tugged your clothes back on and tied you up. But you kept crying out about being hot, so Karlach dumped a bucket of water on you.” He grinned. “That seemed to calm you down, although you were staring up at the sky for a long time before you finally fell over and passed out.”

You closed your eyes. You couldn’t take Astarion’s mirthful expression any longer. “Can you just untie me now?”

“I don’t know. Do you have any more chaos to unleash here?”

You groaned. “No, I’m done.” I will never fuck around with mushrooms ever again.

He reached over and untied you. “And what have we learned?”

“Don’t taunt the wizard.”

“No, I think you should always taunt the wizard. Try again.”

“Don’t lick weird things?”

Astarion nodded, and then patted your head. “Good girl.” His hand lingered on your head for a little bit longer before he pulled away. For a second, you sensed a great deal of amusement, but also some fondness in his touch. Or did I imagine that?

Pushing yourself up, you cast a drying cantrip on yourself. “My whole body hurts.” You looked around and noticed that everyone else had gone to sleep. “I want to change,” you said.

“Do what you want,” he said dismissively as he went back to his book.

“So… can you go to your tent?”

“Why so shy, my dear?” He smirked. “I’ve already seen you running around in your underwear.”

You sighed. He had a point. It was nothing he hadn't already seen. Still, you waited a few moments to make sure he was engrossed in his book before you turned away from Astarion and shrugged your shirt off.

“What’s that?”

You turned your head. “What’s what?”

He pointed at your lower back. “That tattoo.”

“Huh?”

You and he shared a look.

“Wait here.” He immediately got up and went to his tent, coming back with a mirror. He angled it so that you could see the tattoo on your lower back.

“What in the hells is that?” you muttered. A strange seal, with foreign script spiraling within what looked like a stone circle. The seal’s location on your back was the same place where you felt a tingling every time you had a hunch.

Astarion leaned in closer and looked at it with a discerning eye. “Whatever it is, it looks a bit faded.” He leaned in closer. He pronounced some sounds, but cocked his head in confusion. “It looks like Elvish, but the words don’t sound like any language that I can recognize.”

You vaguely recalled that your mother always would always touch you there, but you never thought anything of it before. You had thought it was just a motherly touch. Was she checking the seal as well? Replenishing its magic, perhaps?

Unfortunately, you would never be able to ask her why she put a seal on you. But at the very least, now you know why you always felt the tingling on the small of your back.

“Thank you,” you said finally.

He was quiet for a moment. “Well, you did the same for me.” After a moment, he asked, “Does it do anything?”

“What? The seal?”

“What else would I be talking about?”

You debated telling him, but after a few moments, you relented. What harm could it be? “I get a tingle back there sometimes, like when I get a hunch about danger or going in the right direction.”

He hummed. “Sounds useful.”

“Only when I know what to look for. Sometimes I don’t even know why I’m getting a tingle and I get anxiety over nothing.” You pulled your sleeping gown out of your pack and threw it on. The soft material felt nice against your skin and you sighed happily.

“Have you ever tried to control it?”

You paused. Why the hells didn't I think of that? “Erm, the thought hasn't occurred to me.”

“Perhaps you should try,” he said.

You nodded. “I could try.” You kicked off your boots and pulled your pants off from underneath your sleeping gown. “Did you want a snack?”

Astarion shook his head. “As much as I’d like to, you still smell of that fungus. I’m not feeling a particular need to lose my facilities tonight.”

You resisted the urge to sniff yourself. “Ah, I see.”

“After all, if you wanted to see my underwear, all you had to do was ask—”

“Good night, Astarion,” you said as you crawled into your bedroll.

He chuckled as he returned to the book in his hand. “Well then. I'll keep watch. Have a good night,” he said, a smirk on his face.

You fumed quietly as you rolled over and stewed in your humiliation.

***

While the sky never changed in the Underdark, you still felt like morning had come when you pushed yourself out of your cozy bedroll. The slight chill in the air along with the scent of moss and lichen that constantly permeated the air made you think of autumn nights in a forest.

You got things ready for breakfast and listened to the others make their plans for the day. You heard something about exploring a couple of paths, and that the party should split up to explore for now. Astarion, Shadowheart, and Gale were to go north, and Wyll, Karlach, and Lae’zel planned to go west. Halsin was to stay behind and guard the camp, since he was well equipped to handle multiple enemies on his own.

As the others left, you turned to Halsin. “Shall we look for some edible mushrooms?”

He nodded. “As long as you’re careful about which ones you’re picking.”

“Yes, yes, don’t remind me.”

***

Time passed as you and Halsin explored the safer areas of the Underdark near the campsite, foraging for fungi. You wished it had been uneventful, but while you were searching for herbs and mushrooms, you realized that a giant snake was nearby.

“Erm, Halsin…” You tugged on his arm to get his attention, and pointed at the serpent slithering around the trunk of a massive tree. “We should leave.”

He looked at it for a moment. “Do you know how to cook snake meat?”

You blinked. “Yes, it’s not too different from chicken.” It took you a moment to realize why he was asking you. “Wait—”

He was already transforming.

A mere five minutes later, you were helping Halsin lug back a giant constrictor snake back to camp, your basket of freshly picked mushrooms on your arm.

The two of you got back to camp and began to dress the snake, skinning it and cutting it up for dinner. You were already seasoning it and putting the first two skewers onto the fire when you heard the alarm bell on your belt chiming softly.

“Welcome back,” you said warmly to Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion.

“What are we having tonight?” Shadowheart asked.

You pointed at the skewers. “Mushroom and snake meat skewers, seasoned with some wild herbs and rock salt.”

Gale raised an eyebrow. “Are these mushrooms… safe?”

You huffed. “Yes, they are safe,” you said acerbically.

He raised his hand in defense. “Alright, alright. It’s just that yesterday’s, ahem, debacle, has made me a bit wary.” He gestured towards you. “But if you’re certain they’re safe, then they probably are.”

You noted his use of the word probably and his tone of disbelief. I’ll remember that.

By the time Wyll, Lae’zel, and Karlach returned, the others had almost finished eating. They swapped stories and figured out their next move for tomorrow. Both teams realized that some of their leads led to the same place.

“One of us could take you to the Myconid Colony while the rest of us track down the duergar,” Wyll said to you.

“I’ll go with her,” Gale said immediately before you, or anyone else, could say anything. He turned to you. “That is, if you’re alright with that.”

You nodded. “No problem.” Unbidden, your gaze flickered over to Astarion for a brief moment, but he seemed too busy speaking quietly with Shadowheart to notice anything else.

Why did I look his way?

***

While everyone else was relaxing after dinner, you made your way down to the water's edge that you could see from the edge of the cliff. It wasn't terribly high, but you found a thin path that cut its way down a couple of switchbacks to the water.

You heard Gale call your name, and looked back up towards the cliff. He seemed far away, but he snapped his fingers and mumbled something before he floated down from the top of the cliff.

“That’s an awfully handy spell to have,” you commented as he landed daintily on the rocks beside you.

“Saved me a lot of times in my youth, exploring the skyline of Waterdeep.”

“I imagine you troubled your parents a lot, running on top of buildings.”

He laughed. “I suppose I did.” Then he glanced at the water. “So, will you be making a hot water rune here?”

You nodded. Then you realized he was waiting. “Did… did you want to watch?”

“If you don’t mind. It’s a very different kind of magic that I haven’t really seen before, and trust me, I’ve seen plenty of magic in my time.”

Gale went on to talk about his past a bit more, elaborating on what he had already shown you through his memories on the mountain. You just nodded along, letting him prattle on.

“Ah, but I’ve said enough about myself. I’ll let you get on with your work,” he finally said after a long story involving shenanigans and hijinks with his Tressym, Tara.

You smiled politely and stepped into the water until you were halfway submerged. You walked a wide circle, wide enough for even Karlach to float on her back if she so wished, singing your heating hymn while you touched the surface of the water, trails of light blue lines streaming from your fingertips.

Towards the end of the song, you felt fatigue pulling at your legs, making every step a little harder. You pushed through, forcing yourself to finish the song, to finish the circle. I must be tired from all the traveling. I should get some more sleep.

You closed the circle and watched as steam began to rise up from the water’s surface. Stepping inside, you sighed happily, letting the heat seep through your thin clothes and into your body. After a few moments, you looked up at Gale, who was watching you curiously.

“It’s nice in here,” you said as you began to make your way back to the shore.

He held up his hands. “Hold on, I’ll move the water so you don’t get cold.” Moving his hands as if he was splitting something apart, you watched as he parted the water and made a dry path for you back to land.

You walked back to him, putting your fingers through the water wall on either side of you for fun. He ended the spell just as you returned to shore, the water falling back down and flowing back to normal. You hummed your drying cantrip, only to see Gale observing you.

“What is it?”

“Your magic is… interesting.”

You blinked and carefully held your expression as neutral as possible. What in the hells does he mean by that?

He finally smiled. “But I’m going to guess that you won’t tell me where you learned it.”

You shook your head. “Sorry, but no.”

Holding his hands up in surrender, he nodded. “I understand that you have your reasons, but I promise that I’m only asking out of intellectual curiosity.” He leaned in closer and spoke quieter. “But I do hope that one day, you’ll trust me enough to share.”

Maybe. But not this day. You didn’t think Gale had any connection with that particular masked lord of Waterdeep, even peripherally. But you also weren’t entirely sure. So you merely shrugged and gave him a polite smile. “Perhaps. I could still teach you a few cantrips, though.”

You tried to teach him the drying cantrip you just used, just as an exercise in methodology, but quickly both of you realized that he was a bit too tone deaf to cast it properly.

Gale shrugged. “Not sure if your method of casting is a good fit for me, though I enjoy the concept.”

You laughed. “I guess it helps that I’ve learned it since I was a child. I knew how to sing before I knew how to speak, so my mother said.”

“No wonder you sing so well. You cast all of your spells in song form?”

“I never knew any other way.”

He looked at you curiously, as if he was trying to figure something out. “I feel like there was some kind of magic like that somewhere, but I can’t quite remember.”

Ah shit, I gave him too much info. “It might just be a weird offshoot of bard magic, who knows?” you said quickly, trying to throw him off the scent.

He nodded. “Perhaps.” Then his gaze was drawn towards the hot water rune. “Now, since I was here first…”

You grinned, grateful for the change in topic. “Enjoy! I’ll head back.”

Making your way back up the trail to camp, you told the others that there was a hot water rune in the water below the cliffside, and that Gale was using it first.

Without thinking, you found yourself meandering to Astarion, who was sitting outside his tent, mixing vials.

You came close and smelled rosemary, something citrusy, and… alcohol?

“What are you doing?” you asked as you sat next to him.

He barely glanced up at you. “Making cologne.”

You tipped your head in confusion.

Astarion finally looked up at you. “You haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

You raised an eyebrow.

He sighed and put the vial he was holding back into a wooden vial rack. Curling his finger in a come hither gesture, he then pointed at his neck. “Come close, darling. As if you were going to bite me.”

You hesitated.

“I haven’t got all day.”

You relented and came close. He didn’t smell bad, but he definitely didn’t smell… alive. It was faint, hardly detectable if you hadn’t been sniffing for it. You pulled away and looked at the items in front of him. “Is all this really necessary? I hardly smelled anything.”

“A necromancer or a well trained animal could sniff me out. But it’s nothing a little bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of aged brandy can’t hide.”

You nodded. “I use rosemary when I can’t focus,” you commented idly. “And anything citrus gives me energy. I hadn’t thought to put them together.”

“It’s the perfect olfactory disguise for a corpse. Honestly, I missed my calling as a perfumer.”

You caught the slightly wistful look on his face before he turned back to his vials. “Do you have any other questions, my dear?”

Shaking your head, you moved to get up, but he suddenly spoke, quietly, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear. “You can stay, even if you don’t have any questions.”

“Oh? I’m not bothering you?”

Beyond his sultry smirk you saw a hint of a real smile, which shook you more than it should have. “Not at all. Besides, you smell delicious.”

You rolled your eyes, but sat back down anyway. “Wouldn’t that distract you?”

“On the contrary. You’re more like… a palate cleanser.”

“Glad to know I’m the olfactory equivalent of a jar of pickles,” you muttered.

He let out a small burst of a giggle, surprising you.

Sharing a smile, you stayed and helped him mix his scents.

“So what scent would you use on me?” you asked as you helped him finish his last vial.

“Let me think.” He started putting things away as he ruminated. “Definitely something a little spicy to go with your inherent sweetness.”

He plucked one of the other vials from his kit. Giving it a few hard shakes, he unstoppered it, placed a finger over the opening, and flipped it quickly. He deftly stoppered the vial before he leaned closer to you. Reaching for your neck, he gently stroked the scent onto your pulse with his finger. Cinnamon, cardamom, and ginger wafted around you.

“There. You smell like a spiced dessert wine. Utterly delectable.”

You grinned. “So you think I'm a drink?”

“The most delicious drink in all of the Sword Coast.”

“You flatterer.”

“I could go on—”

“Please don't,” you interrupted. Then you gave him a sincere smile. “But thank you for letting me spend time with you.”

He blinked, clearly unused to being thanked for such a thing. But he recovered, plastering on a smile. “My pleasure, darling.” Looking at you for a moment longer before looking at the vial in his hand, he slowly handed it to you. “Perhaps you should keep this. It suits you.”

You took the vial and cradled it close to your chest. “Thank you,” you mumbled. You weren’t expecting a gift, especially not from him.

He seemed as surprised as you. “Well, this won’t be a regular thing.” He sniffed and turned away, putting his things back inside his tent.

You took that as a cue to leave him alone, but you didn’t feel like you had been dismissed. You got the feeling that he was a bit embarrassed at having been nice for once, so you let him be.

***

You had gone around and spent a bit of time with everyone tonight, sharing small snippets of conversation, getting to know your companions a little bit better. As everyone went to sleep in their tents, you started to head towards your bedroll. You still didn’t have your own tent, and you honestly didn’t feel like you needed one. After all, if it rained, you could always stay with Astarion.

Just the thought of him made you look towards his tent. He was probably already in a trance, regaining his strength for the next day. You wondered if he had gotten enough sustenance from whatever was out in the wilds of the Underdark.

If I go ask, I’ll just be satiating my own curiosity. He’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.

You reminded yourself that you thought very little of his ability to care for himself not too long ago.

But I know more about him now.

Your heart clenched with anxiety. I don’t need to check on him. By the gods, I’m not his caretaker.

Despite your attempts at talking yourself out of it, you turned and walked towards his tent. You stared at the tent flap, debating for a few more moments. Just as you were about to turn around and head back to your bedroll, you heard his voice.

“Come to see me, darling?”

You sighed. No going back now. “Yes.”

“Come in.”

You entered to see him sitting on his bedroll, reading a book.

“Are you hungry?” you immediately asked. Godsdammit, me. I couldn’t ease into the conversation, could I?

He chuckled. “I’m quite alright, but I’d never turn down dessert.” Closing his book and setting it aside, he looked up at you and patted his lap. “Come sit with me, my dear.”

You blatantly ignored his lap and sat beside him instead.

He pouted so perfectly at you. “I feel like you’re teasing me.” Leaning in, he glanced down at your collarbone for a moment. “Why did you come to me tonight?”

“Just to check on you. To make sure you weren’t hungry.”

He smiled that perfectly constructed smile of his. “How sweet.” He touched your arm, and you felt nothing. Dammit, he’s doing it again. “But is that the only reason you’re here?”

You nodded.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

His fingers traced lines up and down your arm, and you couldn’t help but lean into his shielded touch. It’d been so long since you’d had prolonged contact, and just like before, you were tempted into letting him do what he wanted because you wouldn’t have to feel any other emotions but your own. I could just be in the moment without being distracted. I could… actually enjoy myself.

Trapped in your own desires, you let him move closer.

“I’ve seen your cute little glances, ever since we started traveling together. Your eyes are drawn to me.”

You swallowed as he reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lower lip.

“You're shy, aren't you?”

Don't give in, for fuck's sake. Although he’s not wrong. You nodded in agreement before you realized what you were doing.

“But you want to be touched, don't you?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low purr.

You swallowed again. He scooted even closer, his hand moving up your arm to your shoulder, then slowly down your back. He pulled you close, his hand drawing circles slowly around the seal on the small of your back.

“That's why you're really here, isn't it?” His intense stare pinned you in place, his voice like silk against your senses.

Frozen in place, you couldn’t speak as your voice died in your throat. This wasn't what you wanted. You were pretty sure this wasn’t what he wanted either, despite his attempts otherwise.

“You could lose yourself in me,” he murmured, his lips millimeters from yours.

Just one kiss… He was so close. So very, very close.

But it wouldn’t be real.

You pulled back and shook your head, denying both him and yourself, stamping down on your own desire. “No,” you finally whispered.

He suddenly stopped and moved away from you. He looked at you, really looked at you, his head tipped slightly in confusion, his expression mildly annoyed. “Then what do you want?”

A hug seemed a safe enough thing to ask for. You wanted physical touch. He… Well, you weren’t sure what he wanted, to be honest. But you were sure it wasn’t you, not in that way.

You decided that if he was going to insist on something physical, you could take a hug and not feel as bad about taking advantage of him.

“Can I get a hug?” you asked in the smallest voice.

Astarion blinked. “Just a hug?”

You nodded.

He seemed surprised. But he finally shrugged. “If that's all you want.”

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of bergamot and brandy on his skin. He froze, his arms hovering around you as if the mere concept of a hug was foreign to him. But he gradually relaxed, and you felt his arms close around you as he held you close. His head dipped down, his nose nuzzling your ear.

You realized after a few moments that you could feel his emotions again, and that it was a mixture of relief and… safety?

You eventually let him go, not wanting to outstay your welcome, but Astarion clung to you for a few more moments before he slowly let his arms slide down. You shifted back so you could see him. His expression was softer than you had ever seen. You wondered when was the last time he gave a hug.

“Thank you,” you murmured, before pressing your forehead against his. You weren't sure when this became your manner of saying good night to him, but he closed his eyes and stayed silent.

…hungry…

“Do you want a bite before I go?”

He opened his eyes and stared at you. “How do you always know?”

I cheated. “Just a hunch.”

He chuckled. Dipping his head down, his lips touched your neck and lingered, not quite a kiss, but it felt just as intimate. You felt his breath against your skin as he let out a small sigh. “You really are delicious, you know,” he murmured before biting down.

You felt his contentment past the pain of his fangs. He seemed happy. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. A small sound of pleasure escaped his throat as he gulped down two more mouthfuls of your blood before pulling away. He gently licked your wound before coming back to press his forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re always welcome,” you whispered back. You stayed with him for just a few moments more before you finally pulled away. He said nothing, only watched you with an enigmatic expression. You gave him one last smile as you slipped out of his tent quietly.

You walked back to your bedroll, thoughts churning through your head.

Why did he feel safe, when I rejected his advances and only took a hug?

--------------------------------------------

Chapter 11 End notes: This chapter is a bit sillier, but that’s because I really didn’t know what to do in the Underdark, and the mushrooms provided an excellent way to introduce some levity to what will soon become a heavier storyline. And you may have noticed that Gale is observing things about our dear Hearth Witch. Will he reveal his observations? Probably not any time soon. Maybe you’ll figure it out before he does!

Tag list: @numblytemporary

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion #astarion x f!reader #baldur's gate 3 #female reader #writing #bg3 spoilers #your hearth is my home

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anarchic-miscellany · 2 months

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Reading "One Piece" for the first time, Part 5: So, pretty early on (about the time a murder clown nuked a village) I realised that escalation was basically a crapshoot in this series, and honestly one of its charms thus far. Now the Idiot, the Himbo, the Cartographer with a Brain Cell and Meme in Progress Usopp are chilling at this floating fish restaurant. The Giga Chad Chef they met who kicked an entitled Karen in the face has now given free food to a pirate in need, because he's a pretty stand up guy. Nice touch honestly. But now a man made of guns has arrived and declared war on the restaurant because he wants the logbook of the elderly chef who runs it (and has a pegleg, honestly I am surprised at the restraint in waiting this long for a peg leg on the author's part, though I am surprised also that it doesn't have a shotgun in it or an interdimensional portal to the food dimension, or something) so he can cross "The Grand Line" after a fuck load of his crew got their shit pushed in out there. Naturally the restaurant and old man want him to shove it, so a fight ensues. I like the wholesome army of chefs who cannot work elsewhere and will defend this place until death, it's becoming a theme. This villain is kind of meh, especially after the Cat Guy in the last volume, and he keeps doing that thing of shooting his own dudes in the face which... okay man, great tactic. Still, we get to see the Giga Chad (I think he's going to be my favourite) roundhouse spiral kick a bunch of dudes and that's honestly kind of cool. The Cartographer with a Brain Cell has pissed off with their ship and loot, which I should really have seen coming, but in my defence I was distracted by the chef pirate battle and the arrival of... I'll get to you... I'm looking forward to them confronting her and getting their stuff back, I mean: they literally only just got this thing! Anyway, the fight is fun, kinetic, vast, frantic, it's the first one which really busts free and does its own thing and isn't merely "Dragon Ball Z" showdowns (RIP Toriyama, King) between two guys in fields. But then this fucking guy arrives. "Dracule Mihawk", the man who cuts a ship in half. You can tell this series was started in the 90s, because he is cringe incarnate, he is the edgelord anime stereotype of a badass, spoken of like a whispering nightmare of death upon the wind. And honestly I find him super dull, super cliched and just not worth my time at all. Naturally he ends up stabbing the Himbo with only a small dagger and is going to be his nemesis for the series. I appreciate them bringing in a character who will be a recurring, soon to overcome villain, but for fuck's sake, can it be literally anyone else? I'll take that Morgan guy over him. I'll take the fucking Lion Tamer. But no, we get this towering inferno of cringe. Also, Usopp doesn't really have anything to do here, shame. Anyway, now they're battling a man made of bin lids who calls himself "Pearl". Sure.

#One Piece #monkey d. luffy #Usopp #Meme in Progress #Roronoa Zoro #Nami #Sanji #Vinsmoke Sanji #Himbo #Giga Chad #Manga #Reading One Piece for the First Time

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pinkskytwst · 1 year

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Of Princesses and Queens

Epel/Reader (not Prefect) Riddle/Reader (not Prefect)(End Pairing)

Reader gender is not specified but the term 'princess' is used the same way Riddle and Vil are called 'Queens'. It's not meant to be a term tied to their gender.

Warning: ANGST, near death experience with ice.

(I shamelessly stole Jack's death scene from Rise of the Guardians)

===================

It was inevitable that you and Epel would be friends.

You were literally the only two people under the age of forty in your entire village and for the sake of both your sanities, you clung to each other like lifelines.

Growing up in the country in a community centered around the prosperous but ultimately uninteresting apple orchard meant that the two of you had to create your own entertainment. Learning to climb trees together was one of your first clear memories – along with the subsequent fall that left you with a broken leg and Epel with a sprained shoulder from where he had tried to grab you.

The moment you healed up you were both at it again until playing tag among the branches was your go-to game.

With your mom’s and Epel’s grandfather’s help you were able to create what you both decided was the best tree house to ever exist. It had winding steps, a second story, a ‘look out’ post that was accessible by a hanging bridge, a trap door with a climbing rope, a swing big enough for two, enough pillows and blankets to create a nest more than big enough for the both of you, and best of all a sign that read in large letters ‘no old people aloud’.

Princes would be jealous of your treehouse.

Your dad nearly laughed himself sick when he saw the sign and Epel’s nana just sighed and insisted that you at least add a protective railing around the ledges.

Epel tried to argue that you weren’t babies but no one said ‘no’ to his nana and your mom was nice enough to help add what was needed for the woman’s approval.

The both of you practically lived in that treehouse.

When you weren’t in lessons or helping around the orchard, the two of you were having grand adventures high off the ground in imaginary worlds you created.

“Nah, pirates are lame.” You rolled your eyes as Epel gasped in utter offense. “We should be knights! They’re super cool and tha’ book I got from pop has all these neat facts about fighting dragons and saving princesses!”

“But we don’t have any dragons to fight!” Epel insisted in a huff, crossing his arms over his chest, wooden pirate sword clutched in his smaller fist.

“Well, we could go fight Silas’s turkey!” you argued back stubbornly, using your taller status to try and bully your friend into playing your game instead.

You had been playing pirates for weeks, you wanted to play something else! Besides, that turkey was a bloodthirsty monster!

“But pirates are cool!” Epel shot back, just as determined, his pout and scrunched up nose the same expression that your dad always cooed over whenever he saw it.

You inwardly scoffed, Epel wasn’t that cute.

Just a little.

“Oh, fine.” You huffed, throwing your hands into the air. “Then let’s at least go look for treasure.”

Instantly Epel lit up, nearly sparkling with his wide, beaming smile and gapped tooth.

Maybe a little more than a little.

“Yeah! Come on!” he said, snagging your hand and pulling you towards the trap door.

When the sun had finally set and his grandpa came out to call you in, you were both curled up in your nest and surrounded by your ‘loot’ of strangely shaped apples, a dried snakeskin, pile of acorns sorted into ones with and without ‘hats’, a stick in the shape of a corkscrew, and a particularly sparkly rock that you thought looked cool.

Epel grumbled as you trudged after the old man that was basically your grandpa, the smaller boy limp on your back and face smooshed into your hair.

Being country kids, you and Epel were no strangers to injuries. Scrapes and bruises were common, and you had lost two teeth after a particularly stupid stunt involving a prank gone wrong with a neighbor's stubborn mule. Thankfully one was still a baby tooth and was replaced naturally anyway, but the other had to be magically regrown and you STILL remembered the lecture your pop had given you about that.

The point was, that the both of you had a very skewed view regarding safety and were far too used to situations that would have caused city parents to grasp their pearls and balk.

That was why, during a normal winter day when you were thirteen and Epel had just turned fourteen, neither of you hesitated when you went out to your favorite hill to sled and caught sight of the creek frozen over.

Well, it was called ‘the creek’ but it was actually a small river that wound around the edges of the northern part of the forest, past his family’s orchard. It was a decently calm one and ice skating was normal when it froze over, so you both jumped on the idea.

Typically, an adult would check to make sure the ice was thick enough, but you weren’t babies anymore and Epel loved to ice skate. He was way too impatient to wait long enough for you to text your dad to come and check for you.

It was getting harder and harder to deny him anything, and so when he begged to be pushed around on the ice with the sleds you agreed.

Everything was fine at first, walking on the ice wasn’t exactly easy so you didn’t get very far from the edge as you tried to push him. As you re-adjusted to the skill, though, you were able to push him farther.

Epel was laughing and climbing off his sled to switch places with you when he slipped.

The sled glided away from him and he hit the ice hard.

A crack of ice spiderwebbed out from under where your friend was on his hands and knees and your laugh died in your throat.

The world stilled to a terrifying silence as your gazes met, his filled with sudden panic and yours with something so sharp and grasping you couldn’t begin to name it.

“It’s okay…” you whispered, somehow afraid if you spoke too loudly everything would fall apart.

Epel swallowed thickly, tears beading at the corner of his eyes as he tried to control his breathing, tried not to move as each tiny shift drew more snaps and tiny breaks to shoot across the ice.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

The words were tumbling out of your lips desperately like a mantra, not sure if you were trying to calm Epel, yourself, or beg whatever deity was watching to not let your friend fall.

“I’m going to save you. I’m the hero this time, remember? Heroes save the princesses. You’re pretty like a princess, so it’ll be fine. You’re safe.”

You honestly weren’t even sure what you were saying at this point as you tried desperately to figure out a way to get to the lavender haired boy without putting more weight on the ice and causing it to break.

“I’m not a princess.” Epel managed weakly, voice warbling unevenly.

“Sure, you are. You’re a princess and I’m the manly hero.” You said firmly, spying a fallen branch that looked just long enough. “And manly heroes always save the princesses, right? That’s how the stories always go. Princesses never get hurt.”

You darted over and snatched up the branch before hurrying back to the ice and carefully stepping out as close as you could. You needed to be able to reach him.

The ice began to creak ominously under your boots, but it didn’t crack so you continued to slide yourself over until you could hold out the branch close enough for Epel to reach it.

Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“Hold onto it, ya got it? See, see it’s going to be okay.”

Epel wrapped his mitten covered fingers around the branch and clung to its rough surface desperately as he eased up on his knees.

“Come on, I’ll pull you. It’s okay. I’ll save you-“

You felt it more than heard it. A shutter through the ice below your boots.

You swung as hard as you could manage, putting all your weight against slinging Epel to the riverbank.

You felt the world drop out from beneath you, felt the freezing water engulf you to your very bones, stealing your breath.

You thought you heard your name being screamed but then you were being dragged down and only knew darkness.

It was sheer luck that one of your neighbors had been out hunting and heard Epel’s screams.

It was sheer luck she was able to use her weak water magic to drag you from the depths of the river and onto the snow-covered shore while also holding back the small boy from simply leaping in after you. It was luck that you hadn’t been under more than a minute or two.

It was luck that she was able to get you breathing again.

Your stay at the hospital lasted only a couple of days but Epel refused to leave your side for weeks.

He clung to you, large blue eyes swimming with guilt and tears he refused to let fall.

All he could think of was the determination and terror that had washed over your face when you yanked him towards the safety of the snow.

Of that instant of relief, he had seen in your eyes even as the ice gave way beneath you.

You were the bravest person he knew and neither of you had ever shied away from adventure or danger. He had walked proudly at your side knowing that you were best friends, and you could trust him to have your back. You never looked at him any different for being shorter or ‘cute’ as some of the other residents cooed. You never doubted that he could handle himself just as well as you could. He never doubted he could protect you if you needed it.

You were both wrong.

If he had been better, if he had been more like you – fearless and determined and strong – you wouldn’t have had to save him.

He wouldn’t have had to watch your still body with too-blue lips be dragged from the ice.

Wouldn’t have felt his world disappear beneath him with the earth-shattering terror that had sent him to his knees.

Wouldn’t have realized what it felt like for his heart to shatter while it still beat in his chest and know that the only possible way it would heal was if your own started beating again as well.

Wouldn’t have suffered the agonizing moments that dragged on like an eternity that clawed at his lungs and prevented him from breathing until you gave a sputtering gasp and clung to him as you coughed up lungful’s of water and mucus.

He wouldn’t have realized how weak and useless he was.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He whispered one night while you were both bundled up in your bed, fireplace crackling and more blankets than normal layered over you.

You couldn’t handle the cold as well as you used to.

He made sure never to go anywhere – no matter the weather – without a thick sweater tied around his waist or tucked in a bag. Just in case.

You gave a small snort and pinched his cheek.

“What are you talking about, of course a hero saves the-“

“I’M NOT A PRINCESS!” he snapped, voice hissed and full of disgust.

His chest heaved, arms trembling, but his eyes were dry.

He had sworn on the day in the hospital – when your first words were asking about his safety – that he was never going to cry again.

He would never make you worry about him again.

“I’m not a princess, ya got that!? I don’t need you protecting me! I don’t need you saving me! I’m not weak! Call me that again and I’ll punch ya!”

You blinked up at your best friend and could only manage a small nod.

“Okay.” you agreed with a whisper.

Epel glared at you like he was expecting you to say more, argue, or something, but when he saw that you didn’t plan on it, he relaxed somewhat. The tension easing from his shoulders as he flopped down and tugged the blankets over your heads again. He created a cocoon to trap in the warmth and fight off the small shivers he could feel starting to work down your spine again.

He tugged you against him so that your head was tucked under his chin, despite you still being taller.

“Good. I’m the hero from now on so don’t you forget it.” He snapped, burying his face into your hair, and tightening his hold around you, determined to fight off any chill you might get.

Determined to not let you wake up cold or alone.

“I won’t. Promise.” You whispered softly against his neck, arms wrapping around his waist and holding him back just as tightly.

You never doubted him. Even after he failed you, you never doubted him.

He was going to become a man that could live up to your trust.

The kind of man you deserved to have protecting you instead of the other way around.

He failed you once.

He’d never fail you again.

It was a relief to Epel that he had magic. Oh, he knew he had some, you both wouldn’t be able to fly brooms without a little bit of magic at least. But to have enough to be accepted into Night Raven College was something he had silently worried over.

If he wasn’t powerful enough to go with you – because, of course, you would be amazing enough to be accepted – how could he get strong enough to protect you?

Your matching letters on thick, ebony parchment and written in silver ink appeared at your houses on the same morning.

Epel hadn’t even bothered to put on shoes as he raced out the back door and sprinted across the fields and the orchards to the treehouse. He scampered up the rope, through the trap door and hurled himself inside but he was the first one there.

Nearly vibrating he scrambled up to the lookout and paced around the small balcony until he saw your figure sprinting through the knee length grass. He let out a whoop of excitement as he could see something dark in your hand and began wave his arms around wildly to show off his own.

He could hear your delighted laughter and wasted no time darting back down to the main ‘base’ room. By the time you had pulled yourself up the rope he was helping to yank you up through the trap door and causing the both of you to go tumbling into the nest together.

“Wediditwediditwedidit!” you babbled, throwing your arms around him.

“Night Raven here we come! Whoooo!” Epel crowed, kicking his feet in the air as he felt you laughing into his shoulder. “We’re gonna be the most powerful mages Twisted Wonderland has ever seen!”

When you had both tired yourself from the flood of excitement and adrenaline, you were both sprawled out on the blankets with your still messy bedhead resting on his stomach as you both stared up at the ceiling of your sanctuary. You knew every board and knot of wood, had watched it darken with age but not weaken over the years. Had worked together to repair the shingles that had been blown off by a particularly bad storm.

He began running his fingers through your hair, easing the tangles out absently as a warm sort of quiet settled around you both.

“…Pel?” your voice drew him from his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Are you nervous?”

“’Course not! I’m not afraid of anything!” he replied habitually.

There was a small pause.

“I am.” You whispered, so soft he almost missed it completely.

He blinked widely, propping himself up on his hands and looking down at you as you flushed darkly and looked away.

Epel opened his mouth to insist there was nothing for you to be worried over but something about the look in your eyes made him hesitate. He watched you for a moment before laying back down again and returning to untangling your hair.

“Why are ya nervous?” he finally asked.

You didn’t answer at first, shifting better so it was easier for him to continue running his fingers through your hair.

“…What if I’m not good enough?”

Epel didn’t understand. The thought was ludicrous to him and the mere idea that you would actually believe something like that just didn’t compute in his mind.

You were amazing. You were…you were…you. He didn’t have words to explain how wrong it was for those words to leave your lips.

“I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who tries to say you aren’t.” he all but growled, his hackles raising at the mere thought of someone saying something like that to you.

You gave a small laugh, and it warmed his chest knowing you weren’t doubting him in the slightest.

“Try not to get us expelled on the first day.” You teased.

“Oi! You say that like I’d get caught!”

“You always get us caught! What about when we tried to hide in Carroway’s truck to-“

“Hey! We agreed not to talk about that again!”

Your laughter sounded better than the pensive tone from before, so he didn’t protest too much. He did tug on a piece of your hair though, playfully.

“Seriously, if someone messes with you just tell me and I’ll take care of it.” He said.

You tilted your head faintly to smile up at him.

“I know you will.”

Because you trusted him.

And he wasn’t going to let you down.

When you were placed into Heartslabyul while Epel was sent to Pomefiore you were disappointed.

When Epel stormed over to you the next morning at the breakfast table you were saving a seat for him at, you could only stare.

You friend was…he looked…

“I’m joining your house.” He snarled as he dropped down beside you, painted lips pulled back and narrowed eyes lined in indigo.

You blinked, unable to form words for a moment before clearing your throat and managing a weak sort of smile.

“I-I don’t know if that’s a good-“

“I am not staying there! I can't!” he ranted, slamming his fists – nails painted the same shade as his eyeshadow – on the table.

“Our Housewarden is really strict and I don’t think you can just-“

“Epel! What did I tell you about running!” a smooth, cultured voice said sharply, making you turn to look up at one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen.

“I’m not staying in Pomefiore!” Epel spat back stubbornly, spine straight as he glared daggers at the tall blonde looming over the two of you.

The blonde heaved a sigh like he was suffering the start of a migraine, lightly rubbing at his temple before his gaze flickered down to you.

You in your vibrant – garish - Heartslabyul uniform and the crooked heart you had painted on the corner of your mouth with uncertain hands. His expression shifted minutely and the tilt of his lips with the rise of a perfectly sculpted eyebrow spoke volumes of just what he thought of you.

Or rather how little he thought of you.

As in not at all.

You swallowed and quickly stood, offering what you hoped was a polite smile and bow of your head.

“Hello, I’m-“

“I do not care.”

Your words died as his attention returned to Epel and he wrote you off completely, forgetting your very existence as unnecessary and unsightly.

“I certainly won’t be allowing you to leave for a house with such low standards.” He replied coolly. “Now come, you’re better off making friends with your fellow-“

But Epel snarled and was suddenly in front of you, glaring up at who you could only assume was his Housewarden.

“Don't talk about them like that.” He growled, hands clenched, and you could smell the flowery shampoo from his soft curls.

His eyes sparked and even though you could see over his head – he never did quite catch up to your height – you were absolutely certain he was ready to throw himself at the guy.

The blonde eyed him carefully and must have seen something in his expression or determination because he simply gave another tired sigh.

“Oh, very well, I will allow you to remain friends but you won’t get out of the skin care routine and if you’re going to be seen around this…potato then you should at least bring them with you. Perhaps I can make something of them so they won’t be a complete embarrassment to your reputation and our dorm.” He said, waving his hand slightly before spinning on his heels and sauntering off.

You could only blink, too stunned to really respond, and watched your best friend turn to face you.

“We’re going to the headmaster and I don’t care what I have to do but I’m not staying there.”

Epel was staying in Pomefiore.

The headmaster said that he had to have at least two weeks where the mirror had placed him before he was given the chance to go through the time consuming process of switching dorms.

Every time you were able to see each other he complained non-stop about his Housewarden and his overbearing nagging while you shared your laments about the red headed tyrant that ran yours.

“Maybe we can move to Scarabia…” you muttered with a weak smile during one of the evenings you were allowed to spend with Epel in his dorm room – with the caveat that you went through his skin care routine and makeup practice along with him. “Their Housewarden seems nice.”

Epel readily nodded, reaching out for the liner he had chosen specifically for you, to match the color of the heart you painted on the corner of your mouth every day.

“And they have cool uniforms, I’ll look way more manly in those than these.” He glared, reaching out to your face.

You had been close since you could learn to walk and touch was nothing new to you, but somehow, suddenly, sitting there with your -maybe too pretty – friend holding your chin felt different. The way his large eyes focused on you, leaned in a little closer than normal and began sketching out the shape of the heart on your skin and over your lips. The way his thumb brushed over them absently to fix a mistake. The way he smirked proudly when he was done and looked up to you to throw in your face how much better he was at this than you-

You both froze.

It wasn’t that you thought your friend was any more beautiful with the makeup than he had always been, or that the luxurious uniform accentuated it more than the work clothes when you would both swing around branches to harvest apples.

It was that shadow that had been there since the ice broke beneath your feet was pushed back. His chin held a little higher. His gaze fiery and more determined than you had ever seen him except for that night where he refused to be a Princess.

A bit of the confidence that you had always loved about Epel was starting to bloom again, despite his rantings about his annoying Housewarden. Vil Schoenheit had the highest standards for his students and especially the one that he was grooming as his protégé. Self-assuredness was a requirement and he certainly wasn’t about to let Epel have a weakness so easily exploited.

It stole your breath away and suddenly you had a very strong suspicion about why your heart fluttered every time he touched you now.

“I-I should go.” You stammered, scrambling to your feet and snagging your backpack from where you had dropped it by his bed. “Housewarden Rosehearts will be calling curfew soon and I don’t want to be collared.”

You fled before Epel could answer.

Epel did not end up leaving Pomefiore.

You didn’t end up leaving Heartslabyul.

Or rather, you weren’t allowed.

Vil had firmly declared Epel as his successor for Housewarden and with everything that happened in Heartslabyul…well you didn’t exactly get a chance to try. And then, you really didn’t want to anymore.

After the strange magicless student and their monster ‘saved’ your Housewarden somehow, it was like your dorm changed overnight. The rules remained but they were more flexible, your fellow students more quick to laugh, and the overall atmosphere lighter.

You liked your dorm mates and Housewarden now.

You enjoyed the movie nights in the lounge and the tea parties in the afternoon. You liked taking care of the hedgehogs and flamingos. You liked doing homework with your dormmates and helping Trey-senpai bake and doing makeup tutorials with Cater-senpai. Spending an afternoon painting the roses with the other first years and trying to keep Ace and Deuce from wreaking havoc in the gardens.

It was so different than your life back home but it wasn’t bad.

The etiquette was strange at first but it was also kind of fun, like rules to a game, and you really looked up to Riddle-senpai after he had apologized to you and the rest of the dorm. He was so confident and always knew what to do and what to say. He didn’t let anyone speak down to him because of what he looked like.

He reminded you of Epel, but lately you had been doing your best not to think about your best friend and so focusing on being the best Heartslabyul student you could be was easier.

You had even started experimenting with adding a little more makeup to your ‘look’ the way Cater-senpai suggested.

Not a whole lot but he made sure to point out that your eyes were ‘way viral’ – whatever that meant – so he showed you how to use liners and eyeshadow along with the heart that you had perfected on the corner of your lips.

You even worked up the courage to ask Vil-senpai for his suggestion on colors and he had sat you down for more than an hour and walked you through color matching and seasonal shades while Rook-senpai waxed poetic in the background.

He was strict and straight to the point about what he suggested you work on, but it wasn’t the cruelness that you had felt from Riddle-senpai before and so it was easy to brush off any hurt that might have come from it. Epel had always been blunt too so you were hardly a stranger to such words. You knew how to listen to what was behind them.

You knew he never meant to hurt your feelings and you were beginning to think that Vil-senpai was the same way. Or maybe, at least, that he didn’t always mean the acerbic insults he could come up with at a moment’s notice.

You could ignore it.

What wasn't easy to brush off was the look Epel shot you when he found you in his Housewarden’s room. Chin in his hand and eyeshadow being carefully applied.

“Epel! Look, we-“ you started excitedly when you noticed the lavender haired boy in the doorway.

You were having a particularly good day so far, had done well in class, gotten a head pat from Trey-senpai, and Vil-senpai had given you some good tips that you wanted to share with your friend. You thought, maybe, you could work up the courage to do HIS makeup this time. And maybe if you asked Rook-senpai he could give you help on how to tell Epel how you felt about him.

It was a terrifying thought but also electrifying.

How would it feel to hold his hand, not just as a friend? How would it feel to kiss him? Would he blush like he did when he was flustered, or would he smile at you? Would he let you wear his extra jersey to the Magift games? Would he let you take him on a date to Mostro Lounge?

“Would you just STOP, Vil!?” your friend cut you off, glaring daggers at the taller blonde and grabbing your wrist to pull you away from the vanity you had been sitting at. “No one likes your stupid makeup! They look ridiculous!”

You froze, the warm bubble in your chest disappearing as if it was never there.

“Epel, lower your voice and watch your manners.” The blonde glared, looking actually, honestly angry for the first time as his violet eyes flickered to you and then back to your best friend.

“No! You don’t get to force what you want on them! They don’t need your girly makeup or the stupid outfits!”

You liked the outfits that Vil had made him.

“Epel stop.”

“Monsieur pomme sauvage, perhaps you should-“

“Not everyone’s like you Vil.” He spat, derision dripping from his lips. “And you’re not going to drag them into all this useless shit you keep pushing on me! I’m not going to let you turn them into some kind of pathetic princess for one of your stupid shows! They’re not weak like that! I’M not weak like that! So FUCK OFF!”

Epel spun to face you, to drag you out of the room away from his now eerily silent Housewarden.

He froze when saw your expression.

You don’t know what he saw but you suspected it had something to do with the hollow feeling in your chest.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

You saw something in his eyes that you were too hurt to understand at the moment.

You silently pulled your wrist from his hold and without a word, left the room. Left the dorm.

He didn’t come after you.

You had known Epel as long as you could remember.

You knew he hadn’t meant what he said.

You knew he didn’t think you were weak or silly or ridiculous.

But things had started to change while you were at NRC. You had started to change, grow and experience things you never had before. Cultures and habits so different from your small country home. A home you still loved, still wanted to return to, but one that you could now see wasn’t the whole world as you had once thought it to be.

You didn’t like everything here. You didn’t like how certain foods were restricted to certain days in Heartslabyul – that did seem silly to you – and you could agree that Vil-senpai was a little too strict on what he expected of his housemates’ presentation to be at all hours of the day.

But there was so much that you did like.

You liked being creative with makeup and trying clothes that had certainly never been available in the stores near your town. You liked learning dances and practicing with the other first years and Riddle-senpai. He was stern but kind, now, and never degraded you for not knowing the different waltzes and ballroom dancing that were so common in his Queendom. You liked how pretty things could be with lace tablecloths and polished tea sets.

It was new and interesting and lovely.

But Epel hated it.

Epel hated all of it and while he had regained a lot of his stubborn determination that he once held, he didn’t see what you saw. He didn’t want to be anything like Pomefiore or Heartslabyul. He wanted to be in Savanaclaw where he could prove how strong he was.

You didn’t think he needed to prove anything.

But he still hated it.

You realized there had never been a chance to see him where he hadn't complained about something he didn’t like about Pomefiore or his Housewarden.

Complained about his love of makeup.

Complained that he was vapid and shallow, only caring about looks.

Complained that Vil was hardly a man at all with how he dressed.

So many things that he hated.

So many things that you were starting to like.

But then…did that mean he wouldn’t like you anymore?

If you admitted to liking the makeup and enjoying tea parties where you laughed with friends over pastries…

Would he hate you too?

“Sometimes,” Cater-senpai had said as he patted your head. “People change. Sometimes that change brings people together…sometimes it pushes them apart.” He glanced over to where Trey-senpai was helping their housewarden with the hedgehog pens. “There’s not much you can do about that but stay true to yourself.”

“But I…I don’t know who I am without Epel.”

“Then maybe you should find out.”

Epel didn’t text you.

For a week neither of you called or texted or interacted with each other at all.

It was…it hurt.

You hated it.

The other Heartslabyul boys didn’t miss your dispirited mood and did their best to spend time with you. Ace, Deuce, Jaq, Kai, Hachi, and Sei dragged you into every ‘first years only’ get together they had. Trey always seemed to need an extra pair of hands in the kitchen whenever he saw you. Cater would insist that you were the only one that could help him with his Magicam videos.

And Riddle-senpai decided that you needed extra tutoring and so would spend evenings going over homework with you – sometimes with the other first years or Trey and sometimes just the two of you.

It left you with little chance to miss Epel except when you were alone in bed, shivering as you couldn’t quite warm up despite the heavy velvet blankets.

But…you started to have fun again.

It was nice having friends, so many friends that were there to tease and support you. To urge you into what you liked and to try new things but also didn’t hold back from playfully insisting that you were the ‘Heartslabyul Princess’ now.

The one time Riddle-senpai heard that he blushed such a dark shade of crimson that you were afraid he would pass out.

You wished you could share it with Epel. You wished he could see all the great things you saw.

“Then you should show him.”

You glanced up to see Riddle watching you from across the table, expression serious and thoughtful.

“Tell him how you feel and what makes you happy. If he does not accept that…then he is not good enough for you.”

Those words didn’t make sense at all to you. Epel was the best. He was amazing in so many ways, he was…he was Epel.

If anything, you weren’t good enough for him.

“If he cannot see you as you are and respect that, love you for it, then he is a fool.”

“Ah, there you are little potato.”

You looked up from where you had been wandering down the halls in the direction of the library. Vil and Rook stood before you, perfect as always. You thought you saw a flash of something in the Housewarden’s eyes, but it was gone too quickly to understand.

“Vil-senpai, Rook-senpai, it’s nice to see you. Did you need my help with something?” you asked, uncertain why they would approach you when you hadn’t been around their little ‘apple’ for weeks.

“Nothing of consequence.” Vil assured as he pulled a liner from his pocket.

It was the exact shade of crimson that he had decided was best for your complexion before Epel had interrupted you.

You blinked as he held it out and then placed it in your hand.

“I simply noticed that your lines are not as smooth. Your old one must have started to dry out so you this one instead and be sure to put the cap back on securely after each use.”

Your eyes widened as you looked up at the gorgeous upper-classman and stammered what you hoped was a ‘thank you’. It must have at least been passable since the Housewarden’s glossy lips pulled into a bemused smile before he moved to continue on past you.

“W-wait!” you said suddenly, not really sure why you were doing this.

You could just text.

You could call.

But you were terrified.

Vil paused to glance back at you, an elegant eyebrow arched in question.

“Vil-senpai, is….I-I mean…” you swallowed thickly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “H-how is…”

When it was obvious you couldn’t manage to finish what you were trying to say, he simply gave a soft huff of a sigh.

“Seeing as how you are not nearly as troublesome as your fellow dormmates, I suppose I will allow you to continue to visit Pomefiore. So long as you act accordingly, of course.”

Your heart leaped in year chest and Rook flashed a cheeky smile your way.

“Oui, we have quite missed your lovely visits, petit coeur.” He winked. “Our talented magift team will be practicing this afternoon but I’m sure a treat of the apple pie you baked last time would be greatly enjoyed.”

A bright smile bloomed on your face and you quickly nodded.

“Y-yes! Yes, I’ll be there!” you said quickly before spinning on your heels and darting back the way you came.

You had some baking to do after all and not very long to make it perfect.

Maybe you could talk to Epel and figure this all out.

It would be okay.

Epel didn’t know if he hated Vil more…or himself.

He tried so many times. Opened your text thread so often and typed out so many different apologies he had stopped keeping count.

And each time he had frozen.

Each time his thumb had hovered over the ‘send’ but been unable to gather the courage to press it.

The expression on your face would flash through his memory and he would desperately erase whatever he had been trying to say, knowing none of it would be good enough.

Growing up together you had squabbled before, of course. It was what kids did.

With it just being the two of you, though, there had been no other choice but to make up if you didn’t want to be friendless for the rest of your lives.

And none of the fights had been like…this.

Nothing he had ever said or did had caused you to look…had hurt you so deeply.

Like he had grabbed one of Rook’s hunting knives and stabbed it into your chest with his own two hands.

What could he say, what could he do to make up for that?

He didn’t even really get it.

He didn’t understand why you were warming up to Vil or Rook. He didn’t get why you were so willing to eat lunch with the other Heartslabyul boys when he was right there. Why you let Cater paint you up and then plaster your picture all over his Magicam page with tags like #Heastlabyulprincess or #twocuteiestoocute for everyone to see. Why you didn’t mind when your Housewarden would stand so close to you while fixing your uniform.

Why did he have to fight everyone else off just to enjoy some time alone with you now?

You were his best friend!

He was your best friend!

Wasn't he?

Why did you care about these other guys now over him?

Couldn’t you see how much he loved you? How much he wanted to be the perfect guy for you? Wanted to make you proud to be with him and hang on his arm. Wanted you to know that he would protect you like you had protected him?

Did you not think he could?

Did you not think he was good enough?

Had watching Vil paint him and dress him up like a doll make you think that he wouldn’t be able to keep you safe? That he would leave you to go with Vil into some celebrity fantasy that his annoying Housewarden kept blabbering on about? As if he could possibly be happy with all this frilly shit instead of a small cottage with you near the orchard that he would inherit, and you would both care for together?

Clearly, he had to prove to you that you were what he wanted. That no matter what stupid house he had been put into or the stifling rules that the tyrant was strangling you with, he would be the same. He wouldn’t let it change who he was. He would always be the boy you had grown up with and held against nightmares and picked leaves out of your hair when you would both jump into piles of them during the fall.

He would be the anchor for you in this ridiculous school that obviously didn’t see how amazing you were just as you always had been.

He would prove it to you.

He just needed to make himself better first. He needed to learn what he could from the strong students at NRC and prove to them all that he wasn’t the delicate little flower that Vil was trying to turn him into.

He tried talking with Rook first, of course, since he was the most easily accessible – and really the guy was rather terrifying despite that ridiculous haircut and personality – but he could only understand about a third of the weirdness he spouted off so Epel gave up on that avenue quickly.

Leona was the second person he tried attaching himself to. The prince was everything he wished he could be. Tall, strong, fearsome. No one would dare try to say he was weak and even if they did they would regret it.

Unfortunately, the Savanaclaw Housewarden wasn’t the mentoring type and even though he was the magift captain all of his ‘training’ and help revolved around the game and that was it. He barely gave Epel the time of day outside of the field. He even tried bugging Ruggie for hints of what the lion might suggest but the hyena just rolled his eyes and brushed him off like all the rest.

It was only when he stubbornly attached himself to Jack’s side and refused to let go of the wolf’s track jersey until he agreed to give him pointers, that he was able to make progress.

“I don’t get what you’re trying to do.” The therianthrope admitted as he ran his hand through his hair exasperated. “I’m not trying to be ‘manly’ or whatever. I’m just being me. If you’re trying to get stronger, though, I guess working out more and doing weights might help.” He shrugged. “I jog with Vil-senpai in the mornings. You’re welcome to joi-“

“No!” Epel snapped angrily, not wanting to have to spend even more time around the older teen than he already did.

Jack rolled his eyes.

“Fine, whatever, I weight lift every other day and there’s a gym in Savanaclaw. If you want to join me it shouldn’t be a problem as long as you don’t keep trying to pick fights with my housemates. Leona-senpai is getting annoyed at all the noise.”

Epel beamed up at his new friend, nearly bouncing on his toes.

“Great! I’ll be there!”

You might not be talking with him at the moment but just wait, he’ll be super manly when you did and he’ll sweep you off your feet!

“So who is it that you’re trying to impress? Not that I care or anything.” Jack said after one of their now regular workouts together, running a towel over his face.

Epel sputtered, face flaming as he quickly hid it in his own towel with the excuse of wiping off the sweat that had gathered.

“N-no one! Why would you think I’m trying to impress anyone!? I just want to get stronger!” he said, though the unusual pitch of his voice gave his lie away easily even if Jack couldn’t practically smell it on him already.

The wolf raised an eyebrow down at the shorter boy and Epel stubbornly looked away, draping the towel around his neck and busying himself with fixing the short ponytail he had pulled his hair into.

“Sure.” The wolf snorted under his breath. “Then who are you not trying to impress? Your Housewarden? That Heartslabyul friend of yours?”

“Why would I want to impress Vil!?” he hissed instantly, ruffling at the very idea.

It only made him look like an angry little kitten.

“So it’s the little heart princess?”

“Princess!? Don’t call them that!” he snapped back. “They’re not like Vil, okay! They’re strong and brave! They wouldn’t be a princess.”

Jack just wrinkled his nose at him.

“What are you talking about? Vil isn’t weak and what in the Seven’s kind of fairytales have you been reading?” he asked dryly. “More than half of our school’s founders were fierce Queens that no one could stand up against.”

He gave a derisive snort.

“That’s different, Jack. Besides, it’s not going to matter because I’m going to get stronger and then join Savanaclaw with you. Then I won’t have to worry about Vil or whatever stupid play or modeling practice he comes up with.”

“I thought you said the Headmage said you couldn’t change houses.” The wolf asked as they exited the Savanaclaw mirror and started towards Pomefiore.

He usually followed him to at least give a hello to Vil before he started on his afternoon run.

“Yeah, well I’ll change his mind.” Epel said firmly, tilting his chin up stubbornly as they stepped through the mirror and started up the perfectly manicured walk to the elegant castle.

“Right, well, when you join Savanaclaw you’d better be ready for initiation. They’re not going to go easy on someone with a face like yours.” He warned.

“Oh yeah, well they’ll just find out what I can do!” Epel grinned viciously, already imagining himself in the leather and yellow uniform.

How cool he would look and how he could impress you by taking down all the therianthrope and taller humans that wanted to bully him for his face. The same ones that he knew would try to tease you for the Heartslabyul tea parties and makeup. He’d show them how cool you were too and then you could come with him! You’d look great in leather!

He just had to figure out the best way to words things so that you’d know how sorry he was for not being able to make Vil leave you alone.

Epel’s day dreams were cut off, though, when he started towards the grand staircase up to the dorm room floors and heard your voice call out to him. He froze, not having expected to see you so suddenly and definitely not at his dorm around the other Pomefiore students.

He looked over to see you coming from one of the side parlours. Your smile was small and unsure but warm as always. Clearly awkward but at least not with that hollow look in your eyes anymore.

“Hi, Pel.” You said, your gaze flicking over to Jack for a moment before back to him. “I…uh, Vil-senpai said you would be out of practice but then Stefan said you had gone to Savanaclaw to meet a friend. I’m not…interrupting, right?”

“N-no, not at all! This is Jack, Jack meet my best friend.” He said quickly, telling him your name before focusing on you again. “I just wasn’t expecting you. It’s…nice to see you.” He admitted, something in his chest settling as he hadn’t seen you in so long and it felt like a breath of fresh air having you beside him again.

Warmth flooded your eyes and he watched the little heart on the corner of your mouth dimple that made him wonder why people thought he was cute when you were right there.

Still, he saw the clear signs that his Housewarden had gotten his hands on you. Your eyes were lined even more elaborately than usual with a mix of crimson and gold. Your heart was shimmery as if an extra layer had been added to your normal design. Your hair was even up in a style that he had seen Cater post on his Magicam.

Epel had watched the video of the older teen’s hands brush through and fix your hair while narrating what exactly he was doing and what kinds of hair types the style would go with until he had it memorized. The only reason he hadn’t watched it on mute was every now and then you’d make a comment or laugh at one of Cater’s jokes and he had missed the sound of your laugh so much it physically hurt.

He remembered how Cater’s fingers had lingered along your neck or tucked accessories into place so gently and he couldn’t help but scrunch his nose.

“Come on, you can come up to my room and get all that mess off you.”

He saw Jack wince out of the corner of his eye and quickly make an exit, but he was focused on you. He reached for your hand but you wouldn’t let him pull you up the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, glancing into the parlour where he could see his Housewarden and Rook chatting quietly around an overly decorated table with tea and what he thought was apple pie.

He was surprised that Vil actually allowed such an unhealthy food in his dorm.

“Epel…I wanted to talk with you.” You finally said, pulling his gaze back, though your smile was a little more uncertain before.

“Sure, come on, you can spend the night. Nan sent me some of our normal soap so you wash off that flowery shit.” He said, hoping to entice you to stay with him.

It’d be like back home. He could hold you close and keep you warm like a real boyfriend would.

He could ask you to let him be your boyfriend.

He didn’t understand why your smile kept fading.

“Epel…I know you don’t like Pomefiore. I know you don’t agree with what Vil-senpai is trying to teach-“

“Force.” He interceded.

“…force you to do. I talked with him. He said maybe we can try different things. You don’t have to do everything exactly like him. We can find our own styles together and-“

“I have a style!” he pointed out, feeling a bit defensive now.

Why had you been talking with Vil and not him?

Why did you seem to want to be around everyone else except him?

“I know you do, Epel, and I like you the way you are. That doesn’t mean we can’t try things though, right? It’s like the lemon crisps Trey-senpai made. Riddle-senpai said it’s best to try it so you can find out what you like and don’t like. I didn’t like it but I’m glad I tried it at least. I tried the treacletarts even though I didn’t think they looked good and I ended up really liking them. Maybe if you tried different things you could find some things you do like. Things that we can do together and-“

“Is Vil forcing you into this? Hm?” he finally snapped, gripping onto your hand tighter. “You shouldn’t listen to him, you know. He wants to turn you into one of his little dolls. He wants to use you as an accessory and then throw you away. You don’t need any of that stuff! You don’t need to stay in Heartslabyul. We can go to Savanaclaw together and-“

“But I like it!”

He blinked.

“What?”

Your fingers trembled in his.

“I like learning about makeup, Epel.” You said softly, eyes hurt and unsure but also not backing down. “I like baking with Trey-senpai and trying different hairstyles. I like seeing the different kinds of clothes that Vil-senpai designs even if I don’t want to wear them all. I like dancing and reading and tea parties. I like magift and flying. I like climbing trees. I like playing croquet with the flamingos and hedgehogs. I like it and I don’t want to stop or leave.”

Epel’s chest was tightening, and he didn’t understand why you were saying this.

“But you look better without it.” He said desperately, trying to make you understand.

Wishing you would see what he saw. How people were changing you.

He just wanted his best friend back.

He wanted things how they used to be.

“Then why are you trying to change?” you finally ask in a small voice. “You keep saying how you’re going to get ‘stronger’ and ‘manlier’. What if I like you the way you are too?”

Epel’s nose wrinkled again in disgust.

“Stop teasing me. Don’t you think I know what others say about me? How even people from our town still call me ‘cute’ when I’m already sixteen!? I’m not a kid! I’m not some pretty princess that’s going to dress up and smile for a camera! I’m not going to let them talk about me like-“

“THEN STOP CARING ABOUT WHAT OTHERS THINK!” your voice broke, wobbling as Epel just didn’t understand.

“I never thought you were weak or less ‘manly’ than anyone else!” you added, neither of you noticing that the other Pomefiore students had been quickly ushered out of the foyer by their Housewarden and Vice-Housewarden. “You're the one that thinks that! You are the one that’s trying to force me to do what you want, not Vil-senpai!”

Epel’s eyes widened as you pulled your hand away again.

He felt your fingers slipping from his grasp and his breath went with it.

You were shivering.

“I don’t want you to change into something you don’t want to be…I don’t want you to force yourself to be something you’re not.” You whispered, lip trembling. “But I’m not going to let you force me to be something you want, either.”

“I…wait, stop, it’s okay. I don’t mind you liking that stuff! Really!” he said desperately, grabbing at your shoulders to prevent you from leaving. “I think you’re cute with or without makeup! It’s fine! And if you want to stay at Heartslabyul that’s okay too! You-…you could spend the night over in Savanaclaw with me sometimes! And you can try all the stuff you want before we go home! I don’t mind! Really! We can tell nana and your pop and I bet they’ll all laugh about it! It’ll be great and it’s okay if you’re a princess, right? You’d make a much better princess than me anyway and-“

“So…it’s okay to be a princess?”

“Yes! Yes definitely!” Epel said, trying to figure out what the right thing to say was.

What he needed to say to make you stay.

To not lose his best friend.

“But it’s only okay if I’m the princess.” Your tone was…he wasn’t sure.

Something was wrong and he could tell but he didn’t know why he was suddenly so terrified. Why it felt like you were already out of his reach.

“I-…”

“Because you don’t want to be a princess because they’re weak. They’re silly and shallow. It’s okay if I’m one though. It’s okay if I’m silly and shallow and weak.”

“That’s not…that’s not what I meant.” He swallowed thickly, realizing that maybe…maybe he should have listened more to Rook and watched how he said things…

“I know what you meant.”

No. No you didn’t understand. You didn’t understand how much he needed you to be with him. How he just wanted you back. How he wished neither of you had come to NRC at all.

You could have stayed at his orchard for your entire lives. You could have gotten married and grown old together and maybe even had kids someday or adopted. He would have made you so happy. You would have been so much happier than the hurt and resigned state you were now.

He wouldn’t have had to feel you letting go.

“Wait…” he whispered as you took a step back and out of his grasp. “You can’t leave…please, you can’t…”

“You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do, Epel.” You said sadly. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll forget about me soon…it’s not like you seem to like who I am anymore, anyway.”

Epel couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe.

Just like he had been on the riverbank years ago, he could only watch as you disappeared from view.

But this time there was no one there to drag you back to him.

Because he was the one who pushed you away.

That winter break he slipped wordlessly out the back door, ducking his head away from the worried looks his grandparents sent him.

The trudge to the treehouse was unusually silent with a fresh blanket of snow heavy on the ground with only the crunch of it under his boots breaking it.

He climbed up the rope and pushed open the trapdoor, hearing it creak in protest after being unused for so long.

He would need to oil the hinges.

Things were exactly as they had been left. The blankets still rumpled in the corner, a couple of books you had been reading stacked on the small end table, the sparkly rock that you had found while treasure hunting still decorating the shelf above the window.

But you weren’t there.

After the argument you had had, the other Heartslabyul boys had apparently named him enemy of the state and done everything they could to keep him from being able to talk to you. To apologize. To do something to make you see just how sorry he was and how much he missed you.

He even tried talking to Rook about how to get you to understand how much he needed you.

The hunter just gave him a sad, almost disappointed look.

“Aa, but that is the thing, pomme sauvage.” He said gently, patting his shoulder. “Have you asked them what they need?”

He hadn’t been able to answer.

He put in the request to move to Savanaclaw again, and this time Vil did not refuse it.

He was glad about that. It made it easier. And Savanaclaw was great! Really! He loved how free it was and hanging out with the others and he could focus on training for magift and working out with Jack. The uniform was way more comfortable and so cool!

It didn’t seem to matter anymore when he watched the Heartslabyul Housewarden slide off his uniform jacket to drape around your shoulders.

He suddenly didn’t care that no one forced him to fix his hair in the mornings before class when he watched the red head escort you with all the chivalry of a knight.

It was all pointless as he watched you smile and laugh, bringing a softness to your Housewarden’s face that only you seemed to be able to cause. Listen to you chatter about random things the way you used to with him, only for it to be directed at Riddle now instead.

Watched as he treated you so kindly but with so much respect, like an actual princess.

Watched as you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

You had gotten permission from your parents to stay with some of the other Heartslabyul boys over the break.

He only learned about this because they had told his grandparents.

Epel crawled over to the blankets and didn’t even bother shaking them out before wrapping them around himself and trying to block out the world.

You should have just let him fall through the ice.

It would have been less painful.

==================

Whelp I did not mean for this to become so long and rambly but it just kept going and getting angstier. (Blame Ciel, they supported the angst brainrot) This really was supposed to be a cute fluffy Childhoodfriend! AU but turned into kind of a character analysis-ish on Epel's views on masculinity and such. I don't hate Epel but he's a dumb teenage boy with a complex and he doesn't always know how to see past his own views. Hopefully he'll grow!

Tell me what you think <3

#pinkskytwst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #disney twst #twst fanfic #twst vil #twst rook #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #twst epel #epel felmier #epel x reader #twst riddle #riddle/reader #epel/reader #riddle rosehearts

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girlactionfigure · 3 months

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🔅ISRAEL REALTIME news update - after Shabbat updates

🔻HEZBOLLAH - Anti-tank missiles - at Mt. Dov IDF outpost.

🔻HEZBOLLAH - Rockets x 4 - at Dishon, Malkia, Ramot Naftali, Betzet, Shlomi, Menara, Margaliot, Meshgav Am, Kiryat Shmona, Hurfeish, Alkosh, Matat, Fassuta, Netua

🔻SHIA MILITIAS CLAIM.. suicide drone attack on “an Israeli intelligence base in the north of the Golan” and “the fuel terminal in Haifa”.

▪️HOSTAGES MURDERED.. Hamas announces the death of 4 hostages, another report says 7 hostages, held by them in Gaza Strip. One source lists the names Itzik Jarat, Alex Densig, Ronin Tommy Angel, Eliyahu Margalit. No confirmation or proof provided.

▪️CEASEFIRE LEAKS.. U.S. head of CIA arriving to the region in last ditch effort for a pre-Ramadan ceasefire.

.. Qatar threatens Hamas to expel senior officials from Qatar if they don’t convince the organization to agree to a deal. (Wall Street Journal)

The Mossad in a statement carried by the Prime Minister's Office says Hamas is "fortifying its position" with regard to a potential hostage deal, and instead is looking to "ignite the region during Ramadan."

▪️TERROR - CHOMESH.. Terrorists detonated an explosive device in Silat A-Dahar near Chomash, an Israeli was reported injured by the explosion, 2 more injured by gunfire. Palestinian Islamic Jihad claims responsibility.

▪️US PRESIDENT SAYS.. BIDEN: "I told him, Bibi — don't repeat this — you and I are going to have a come to Jesus meeting." HANDLER: Sir, you're on a hot mic. (For those who don’t know this American expression, it means he’s going to call him out strongly privately for his actions.)

▪️AID FIGHT.. exchange of fire in the last hour between the Hamas police and armed "bandits" who sought to loot aid trucks that entered Nuseirat in the central Gaza Strip. Some of the trucks were looted when they reached the area near the Farouk Mosque in Nuseirat.

An aid truck ran over a Gazan to death, while he was trying to protect another truck driver who was attacked by Gazans (who wanted to loot the goods on the truck). Other truck drivers were beaten on the spot by the Gazans.

▪️MORE PARACHUTE MASSACRE.. Gazans report 8 killed by failed aid drops. The Jordanians claim the failure that killed Gazans by bombing by aid (aid parachutes failing) wasn’t Jordan’s fault, the US claims it wasn’t their fault. (( it’s the Jooooooos? )) A Gazan journalist claims: even today some of the parachutes of the aid packages did not open. It is not yet clear if there are more casualties among the Gazans.

Gazan, “the dishes are silly... we'd prefer a drop of a kilo of flour. This is better than the whole box of aid... this food is not good for us, we are the Arab... Palestinian people.... it is cat food for us... I exchanged the entire carton of aid with my brother in exchange for a kilo of flour. We want better assistance than this.” Others complain the instructions are not in Arabic.

▪️RED SEA HOUTHI ATTACKS.. US Central Command: Yesterday afternoon, the Houthis launched two ballistic missiles at a Singapore-owned ship. The missiles missed the ship. Early this morning the Houthis launched an attack in the Gulf of Aden area - the coalition forces and the US Navy intercepted 15 Houthi drones. The Houthis claim in an official announcement that they launched 37 drones.

🔸CEASEFIRE - Hamas’s terms basically seem to be ‘end the war, leave Gaza, release our mass murderers, and MAYBE we’ll return some hostages”. The U.S. has been PUSHING Israel very hard to come up to the edge of those terms, Israel gave a lot but it appears Hamas hasn’t budged.

Current analysis says Hamas is hoping to rile up the Arab world by keeping it going over Ramadan.

🔸JUDEA-SAMARIA (West Bank) - Hamas is already releasing Ramadan propaganda to hopefully rile up both the Arab public and the various militant groups in Judea-Samaria and hopefully cause serious attacks either into Jewish towns or into Israel proper. The IDF has been very active raiding militants in the major Arab cities for the past months, with counter-terror battles nightly - hopefully having suppressed and redirected the militants (if not outright capturing or killing them).

🔸LEBANON - increasing power tit-for-tat attacks continue, with the IDF bombing Hamas sites in southern Lebanon villages hourly, and Hezbollah firing rocket barrages of 20-60 rockets per round.

Rumor are Home Front Command wants to start a campaign to inform the public to PREPARE PREPARE PREPARE, but there is concern it will cause PANIC and possibly cause the enemy to react.

🔸GAZA - The IDF continues working through Khan Yunis neighborhoods and tunnels building by building. Hamas is primarily limited to the last Gaza Strip city of Rafah - which the IDF is somewhat leaving alone but is air striking Hamas leadership locations and operations locations, but warning to evacuate first in some cases. IDF attacks include blowing up buildings and, in some cases, neighborhoods when they’ve been used as attack platforms.

🔸HOSTAGES - Hamas says 7 were murdered. No reason, but also no evidence.

🔸AID - the aid story is getting weird. Aid protestors have successfully slowed aid, such that the US and Jordan (and others) are now air dropping aid - - which has had drop failures effectively bombing people with aid and killing them while claiming the failure is not them.

The Gazans are complaining about the air dropped aid: the instructions are in English, some is expired, it is not to their taste, the portions are too small, it’s cat food.

The US has said they are going to build an instant-port, to deliver aid by sea - and aid is prepping and loading on ships in Cyprus, but the US has also said they’re going to do this without US forces entering Gaza, by deploying 1,000 US soldiers to:

“Deploy a floating pier and causeway. The aid will be driven into Gaza by vetted U.S. partners and not American troops. The U.S. military will work to ensure proper security measures are in place on the ground and will take precautions to protect its troops offshore.”

Since security is the issue, with most aid trucks being attacked and looted or hijacked by Hamas, the goals seem impossible. And who are these ‘U.S. partners’ who are going to go into Gaza?

🔸PROPAGANDA - the new propaganda item is “Gaza children dying by dehydration” since “Gaza starvation” is starting to lose traction.

#Israel #Realtime War Updates #October 7 #Operation Swords of Iron #Hamas Massacre #Israel/HamasWar

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mass-effect-galaxy · 7 months

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Baldur's Gate 3 roleplaying idea: The Eilistraee Sword Dancer

(the "evil drow" variant is here)

I am still rather new to DnD lore and therefore I am still looking at what kind of characters you would actually be seeing in BG3 and how they would react and act in the story.

I became interested in the cult of Eilistraee by chance when I turned Shadowheart into a cleric of the Dark Maiden because I didn't find the altar to Selûne in the pantheon next to the Elfsong. This made me curious to learn more about that religion (other than the obvious naked drow dancing with a sword).

I quickly realized that an Eilistraee cleric would be perfect for a Tav character. These brave men and women are used to traveling the surface, making contact with other people, and offering help and guidance wherever needed - basically what you do being the protagonist here.

Eilistraee clerics are usually, but not exclusively, drow women. This religion is open to all races and has many elf, human, and half-elf followers. For about a century now, the clergy is also open to men. So, you can be of any race and gender when playing an Eilistraee cleric. Specific orders, like the Sword Dancer, are still limited to drow, elf, or half-elf women.

Technically, you want to have the first level as a War Domain cleric of Eilistraee and multi-class the rest into School of Sword bard. The cleric uses wisdom for spell-casting and the bard uses charisma. You should focus on charisma because Eilistraeans are supposed to solve conflicts by diplomacy, whenever possible.

As a cleric of Eilistraee, you are practically the embodiment of Good. Her clerics are expected to be proficient both in swordplay and arts, most notably dancing, singing, and playing instruments. They are supposed to offer succor with their music and protection with their swords.

These clerics travel to communities of different races to provide whatever help is needed. They in particular travel to those regions where drow are not welcome, probably because of misdeeds done by Lolth-sworn drows. These kinds of pilgrimages are called "Run". Their purpose is not spreading the Eilistraean faith but the improvement of the peaceful coexistence of races, with the ultimate goal of making the surface a safe place for drow. Anti-racism is a pillar of the Eilistraean faith.

Even though we accidentally end up in the Emerald Grove while it is under attack by goblins and drow, that place would certainly be a place that would see the visit of Eilistraean clerics soon. The priestesses would provide healing, music, food for the needy, and protection from wild animals and dangerous monsters (the "High Hunt").

So, that's what you do: you talk to people and offer your help. You don't ask for anything in return, and when you get rewards you use that money to buy useful things for your companions. You do not steal or plunder, and when you loot dead enemies you only take what you need (food, coin, and gear you are actually going to use).

You try to solve conflicts without violence, as much as possible. However, this has its limits - and you don't carry around a sword because it looks good (Clerics of Eilistraee don't use bows and crossbows, BTW). You abhor slavery, and whenever you can't convince someone to let go of his slaves, you are free to strike him down. You also don't run around claiming to be a True Soul. If someone assumes that on his own, it is their business; but you won't claim it yourself - even when the outcome would be a fight. If violence is unavoidable, you should try to end it as quickly as possible with as few people as possible getting involved.

Being a "light side" cleric in a world where all gods are real would also mean that you should respect other peoples' allegiances. I don't think that it would be right to lecture Shadowheart on her Sharran faith. I would even go as far as saying that interfering with Shar ordering Shadowheart to kill a daughter of Selûne would be overstepping your boundaries as sort of an envoy of Eilistraee. This is definitely true for Gale: It is not your place to question Mystra commanding Gale to sacrifice himself. And if he is willing to do so, you would see your part in supporting him in whatever way you can on that path - what would also be the proper ending for that playthrough (don't bring him to the end of Act 2, though).

Even though Eilistraee is usually depicted as a nude dancer, this is not really a nudist cult. Rites are usually performed naked. During the High Hunt (in terms of BG3, the boss fights against the chosen three) clerics of Eilistraee are naked too and only armed with swords. In all other situations, a cleric of Eilistraee would be wearing practical clothing appropriate for the task; probably even less revealing and flashy than what is considered fashion amongst Lolth-sworn drow.

On a side note, being a drow and a bard gives you the highest amount of special dialogue the game offers in one run.

#baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #drow #eilistraee

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vin-lord-of-squid · 5 months

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oh.

oh my cod.

we’ve been thinking about it all wrong.

our perspective was off. we jumped to too many conclusions.

it all makes sense now.

side order wasn’t created by Marina. probably not purposefully, anyway. side order- now just HEAR ME OUT- side order takes place:

in alterna.

explanation under the cut.

in the YouTube video linked at the end at 5:09, there’s dash pads pointed out with the alterna logo on them. plus, the weird black glitches on the wall are the same as the loot anchors in alterna. we know what the core component of alterna is, it’s the liquid crystals all over the walls that reflect the last wishes of the humans. now think about Marina, and her odd absence. what’s her greatest wish? her number one desire?

she wants to find a world of order, beyond our comprehension, after this chaotic world… so she can choose her inner self.

look at side order. that describes it perfectly. it’s so familiar, but so alien, a world of order beyond our comprehension, so similar to our own…

but i doubt Marina wanted this.

my theory is that during Off the Hook’s world tour, they came to Splatsville with 8 and 4 (probably not). due to being close to the Squidbeak Splatoon, they’re shown Alterna. Marina is fascinated by the liquid crystal, and tries to incorporate it into a computer. but the crystal is old and corrupted. so Marina loses control of the computer and everyone is sucked in. the crystal primarily reacts to Marina, creating the world of order she so desperately craved, but also trapping her at the top of the spire and endangering her friends (kind of a “be careful what you wish for” scenario.) Acht was in Alterna due to collaborating with Octoplush and is sucked in as well. the overarching story focuses on Marina’s relationship with Pearl and how she felt hurt and scared after Pearl left (the rest of the interview is here and another person’s elaboration on why Marina feels this way that I agree with is here and here.)

basically i think that everyone looks the way they do because the crystals are reacting to Marina, like Pearl is a robot because a programmed robot would never think of leaving Marina (which Marina would never actually admit or accept she desires but mind reading crystals). and 8 has the white suit because Marina wants 8 to discover themselves and find individuality so she literally gave them a “blank canvas” as their clothes. and she. didn’t know acht was there so no change.

as for story, i think it will go the direction the earlier posts said. i will note that i think Pearl wasn’t purposefully ignoring how Marina feels or trying to hurt her, she just. literally did not notice. not because she’s cold towards Marina or anything she’s just. half blind and a dumbass. as we saw from how long it took her to realize Marina is an octoling.

anyway i think the world of side order is working against Marina and Marina is trying to fight against it to return to her friends, but she’s torn between “i didn’t want this, this is hurting my friends, this isn’t right” and “this is literally the physical manifestation of my every desire.”

and this could play with my predicted arc for Acht (as detailed in this post) because Marina could land on “I want to stay here and you all will too” and Acht is like “bitch put a fucking cork in it I’m seeing my brother again” but I’m so normal about Acht.

and Pearl will have to confront the fact that she hurt Marina, and she’ll have to resolve things with her and land in a healthier place. I’m thinking that throughout side order, Pearl will deny that she hurt Marina and try to focus on getting to Marina, only to get to her and find “oh this is partially my fault.” and because a Nintendo game won’t have years of therapy and recovery there’ll just be an emotional breakdown and reunion with Pearl profusely apologizing for ever hurting Marina, she’s such a dumbass (she is), she was so irresponsible (she was), she loves you so much (she does), she needs you too (she does).

and 8. poor baby 8. a flea on the back of a dragon, in for one hell of a ride. 8 had wanted to explore their past, overcome their trauma, and find their identity and individuality in a more hands-on way.

this is not what they had in mind.

8 is the glue holding everyone together. They relate to Acht in some ways and they love Marina and Pearl. If not for 8, all of the character relationships would collapse. Pearl would never take accountability, Acht would remain cold and hostile, Marina would stay obsessed with this world. But 8 brings out the best in everyone she interacts with (comedically, without ever saying a word.) 8 is compassionate and patient, and works to bring everyone together for the goal of escaping. and 8’s personal arc, their journey relating to themselves, is to grow beyond their past of hurt and trauma. it’s a little played out but they ask themselves “who am I? A soldier? A test subject? A friend? Glue? Do I exist independently, or only in relation to others?” the answer is simple.

they’re Agent 8. and their potential is infinite.

(that’s a big deal because the infinity symbol is prominent in the second trailer, and also 8 on it’s side.)

also 4 (if they’re there) has a journey of independence and learning to move past their abandonment as their own person.

and that’s what gives this so much potential and power. every character has an aspect with which they can relate to Marina. Acht with the anger, Pearl with the love, 4 with abandonment, 8 with trauma recovery. alone, none of them understand what Marina is going through exactly. but together, each of them understand one aspect of her suffering. and they can all help her through it.

anyway here’s the yt vid referenced earlier:

youtube

thanks for reading my rambles. please please please send asks if you have anything to say I really wanna talk about this.

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growingingreenwood · 1 year

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Legolas, who grew up in a nation that's been at constant war for basically his entire life. Who is used to seeing evidence of death and destruction. Who knows very well that having or not having one or two items could be the difference between life and death for those you love even at the best of times but especially when you’re at war. Who knows the incredible value of being able to take what you can, when you can from the word around you absolutely 100% loots old buildings/campsites/bodies for all their worth AND THE REST OF THE FELLOWSHIP HATES IT.

The first time the Fellowship notices that he does this, they collectively (with the exception of Aragorn, who has already witnessed this before) lost their damn minds.

It was complete and total anarchy for several minutes.

The more that Legols tried to defend himself that the house was long since abandoned, and the body inside a few weeks away from disintegrating entirely the more feral the rest of them became about the entire situation.

They were all basically scandalized southern ladies.

People might think that the whole ‘fighting evil for the sake of the world’ was the first common enemy the Fellowship had, but in reality it was in fact Legoals’ sticky fingers.

After a while (mostly because the items he takes end up becoming extremely useful on more than one occasion and Legoals insists on an apology from everybody before he’ll use them) the Fellowship stops arguing with him about it and moves on to passive aggressive jokes.

“Oh look, a dead squirrel. Legolas, I suppose you want to take its tail?”

“Maybe we should stop, Legolas might want to take the empty shells and leftover feathers from that abandoned nest.”

It's all fun and games until Aragorn gets the sword of Andruril and summons the army of the dead. Which Legolas oh so helpfully, and repeatedly points out is essentially using a looted sword to loot an entire army of people from an ancestor.

#Tolkien headcanons #legolas headcanon #Tolkien crack #Fellowship of the Ring #Fellowship headcanons #Legolas greenleaf #aragorn headcanon #gimli #GImli Headcanon #jrr tolkien #haleighs greenwood

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bfpnola · 9 months

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We, academics, clergy, and other public figures from Israel/Palestine and abroad, call attention to the direct link between Israel’s recent attack on the judiciary and its illegal occupation of millions of Palestinians in the Occupied Palestinian Territories. Palestinian people lack almost all basic rights, including the right to vote and protest. They face constant violence: this year alone, Israeli forces have killed over 190 Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza and demolished over 590 structures. Settler vigilantes burn, loot, and kill with impunity.

Without equal rights for all, whether in one state, two states, or in some other political framework, there is always a danger of dictatorship. There cannot be democracy for Jews in Israel as long as Palestinians live under a regime of apartheid, as Israeli legal experts have described it. Indeed, the ultimate purpose of the judicial overhaul is to tighten restrictions on Gaza, deprive Palestinians of equal rights both beyond the Green Line and within it, annex more land, and ethnically cleanse all territories under Israeli rule of their Palestinian population. The problems did not start with the current radical government: Jewish supremacism has been growing for years and was enshrined in law by the 2018 Nation State Law.

American Jews have long been at the forefront of social justice causes, from racial equality to abortion rights, but have paid insufficient attention to the elephant in the room: Israel’s long-standing occupation that, we repeat, has yielded a regime of apartheid. As Israel has grown more right-wing and come under the spell of the current government’s messianic, homophobic, and misogynistic agenda, young American Jews have grown more and more alienated from it. Meanwhile, American Jewish billionaire funders help support the Israeli far right.

The Israeli government, Goldberg stated, fights against human rights, democracy and equality and propagates the opposite: “authoritarianism, discrimination, racism and apartheid”.

“Accusing Israel of apartheid is not anti-Semitic. It describes reality,” he said.

Goldberg’s standpoint was not an outlier, he urged Klein to understand. Rather, it represented a growing chorus of voices, including leading Israeli academics propagating the term apartheid to describe the treatment of Palestinians by the current regime. In fact, if Klein were right, Goldberg wrote, then some of the best-known Holocaust and anti-Semitism researchers from Israel, the United States, Europe and worldwide would be anti-Semites.

He referenced a petition co-initiated by Omer Bartov, the Israeli-born historian and professor of Holocaust and genocide studies at Brown University, titled The Elephant in the Room, which states: “There can be no democracy for Jews in Israel while Palestinians live under an apartheid regime”. The petition has been signed by more than 2,000 academics, clergy, and other public figures at the time of writing and is emblazoned with an illustration that includes a large elephant with the words “Israeli occupation” alongside a speech bubble that reads “Let’s just ignore it”, and surrounded by dozens of people freely waving placards for various social justice movements. “Palestinian people lack almost all basic rights, including the right to vote and protest,” the petition reads, “Settler vigilantes burn, loot, and kill with impunity.”

...

It is a position shared by Bartov, who recently told the Washington Post: “You can call me a self-hating Jew, call me an antisemite … People use those terms to cover up the reality, either to deceive themselves or to deceive others. You have to look at what’s happening on the ground.”

#reaux speaks #resources #jewish #antisemitism #palestine #apartheid #petition #israel #free palestine

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dweetwise · 16 days

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[Vittorio X Ace] Language barrier

I've had this fic sitting in my drafts for one and a half years and finally got around to finishing it. I hope you like it 💕 Rated T | 6k words | ao3 link

Ace was whistling as he walked back from another successful trial.

The fully-stocked ranger medkit felt heavy in his hand and he couldn't wait to show off his latest haul. And people said looting chests was a waste of time!

When he approached the familiar glow of the survivors' campfire, however, there was no welcome committee to greet Ace after his spectacular escape from the Spirit's clutches. Instead, everyone was gathered around one of the logs, their postures tense and voices raised.

Ace frowned. Another fight? Damn, he really couldn't leave these people alone for five minutes.

Ace took a breath and steeled himself for facing the ire of whoever was responsible for the commotion this time.

"Children, children!" Ace exclaimed. "There's no need to fight: I love you all equally!"

Predictably, that got most people to shut up and two dozen heads whipped around to look at Ace.

But instead of the eye rolls or disgusted scoffs Ace expected, the survivors looked…relieved?

"Oh, thank god," Élodie sighed. "You're finally here."

Ace arched an eyebrow. The crowd started dispersing, like they had actually been waiting for Ace's arrival instead of being perpetually annoyed by his existence like usual, and Ace felt another tacky joke bubbling up—

And then he saw him.

The man was tall. He was muscular and tattooed, with silver hair and a calcularing stare, standing in the middle of the survivor campsite with his arms crossed over his broad chest. His leather jacket creaked from the movement, bulging biceps straining the material.

"Ace," Élodie said, grabbing his arm firmly. "We need your help."

Ace felt a smirk forming. "He's for me? Oh, Élodie, you shouldn't have."

Strangely enough, the new guy neither laughed nor sneered at Ace's remark. In fact, he didn't react in any way whatsoever, which was a little unnerving.

"Not the time," Élodie hissed. "He just got here, and he only speaks Italian. Please tell me you weren't lying when you bragged about being fluent in seven languages?"

Oh; that would explain the mild panic of his friends and utter indifference to Ace's charms from the stranger.

"Italian?" Ace grinned and shook off the woman's hold. "Say no more!"

He sauntered up to the new guy—shoving the medkit in a clueless Dwight's arms as he passed—and put on his friendliest smile.

"Ciao, stranger," Ace said, effortlessly switching to one of the four—not seven—languages he spoke. "I heard you could use some assistance?"

The scowl finally disappeared from that handsome face as the man perked up in recognition.

"I would be much obliged," Mr. sex-on-legs said.

And that was how Ace was roped in to play translator between the rest of the group and their newest arrival.

The man introduced himself as Vittorio Toscano: because of course, even his name was attractive.

Vittorio had apparently been wandering the fog a long time before finding his way here. This was only validated by the fact that he didn't seem at all phased when Ace—at the others' insistence—went over the basic “sorry you were kidnapped by some Lovecraftian god and are now gonna be hunted for sport for its amusement.”

"That doesn't exactly surprise me," Vittorio said. "After the things the fog has shown me…well, I concluded as much."

Ace should probably have been more curious about the…fog visions, or connections to the Entity, or whatever else Zarina and the others were screaming in his ear about once he translated that piece of information for them.

But he had a hunch. And after a lifetime of relying on it to survive, Ace's intuition was usually pretty good.

"So where exactly are you from? Before you got taken?" Ace asked.

"Gordega, Italy," Vittorio said. Then he sighed. "I'm sorry. I used to be a well-read man and be better at languages, but after so long, most of the knowledge has faded."

"Hey, I'm not complaining. Any of these people would tell you there's little I enjoy as much as running my mouth—and now there's actually someone who listens!"

"Nevertheless, I appreciate the help." Vittorio glanced around at the group still gathered around them, patiently waiting for new information. "So ask away. I know you all have questions."

"Yeah, speaking of…" Ace said. "When are you from?"

Vittorio smiled ruefully. "1391."

Though Ace had suspected it was coming, the admission still took him by surprise. Here this man was, looking like he’d jumped right out of some modern alternative fashion spread, casually telling Ace that he was actually over six hundred years old.

And the weirdest part was that Ace believed him.

"What? What did he say?" Meg bounced restlessly in her seat.

Because Ace being stunned speechless was actually a little worrying, all things considered. He didn't even know how to begin to convince the others of Vittorio's past.

"Thirteen…" Jonah spoke up. "The 14th century!?"

But fortunately, Ace didn't need to. Because while Italian and Spanish were different languages, there were enough similarities for certain math nerds to understand numbers.

"What!?" Élodie exclaimed, then looked at Ace for confirmation.

"Yeah, uh," Ace said. "Our new friend seems to be of the vintage variety."

That was when the arguing started again.

And after the shouting matches were done, when Yui was glaring at Vittorio and ordering Ace to “tell him we don't trust him”…

Ace only smiled at the new survivor and said, "She says she's jealous of your stylish outfit."

Vittorio huffed a dry chuckle. "Is that so?"

Ace was happy to learn that sarcasm apparently existed in the 1300's.

═════════════ ♧ ═════════════

Unsurprisingly, Ace ended up talking to Vittorio a lot over the next few days.

Yes, there was the shared language. Yes, Vittorio was ridiculously attractive. Yes, everyone was still harassing Ace about using their new time capsule friend to find out more about the Entity and the fog.

But more than that, this was the most interesting thing to happen in the entire six years Ace had been stuck here.

The others weren't thrilled that Ace used most of his time simply getting to know the guy, whether that was blabbering on about his family's Italian roots or bugging Vittorio for fashion advice.

"So you picked up all the accessories in the fog too?" Ace asked. "Pierced your own ears, cut your hair, the whole thing? Damn, and here I've had the same haircut for six years."

"I suppose I could try a different style," Vittorio said, fiddling with one of his necklaces. "Maybe the jewelry and neckline is too much for someone of your time?"

"Don't you dare change anything," Ace said. "Have you seen some of the atrocities the others wear? You'll be dressing like an elf or rocking fedoras if you try to copy us."

Vittorio huffed out an almost-laugh at that. Tactfully, he didn't comment on Ace's flamingo sweater.

"What about you?" Vittorio asked.

"What about me?" Ace grinned. "I mean, my uncontested status as a fashion icon notwithstanding…"

"You seem content to talk about the past," Vittorio said. "But I'm curious about the future. What was your life like before the Entity?"

Ace's smile only widened. "Tell me, my friend, did you have poker in 1300?"

═════════════ ♧ ═════════════

It was easy to befriend Vittorio.

Ace never would have guessed someone from that era to be so open-minded when even people in the 21st century had plenty of prejudices.

But Vittorio was happy to prove him wrong. It was amazing how easily he kept up with Ace's banter and picked up on concepts previously foreign him. Ace chalked some of it up to the man's calm disposition and interesting life both before and after falling into the Entity's clutches, but more than anything, Vittorio was just that goddamn smart.

Still, six centuries in the fog didn't come without baggage.

"I've seen them," Vittorio said one day, his voice quiet and eyes distant.

He was staring at a group of girls sorting bandages: Claudette was giggling and Yui was rolling her eyes while Nea talked animatedly with her hands and messed up the bandages.

"Yeah?" Ace asked. "In trials? You've met them before?"

"In the visions," Vittorio clarified.

Because apparently, that was a thing. This group of survivors wasn't the first one Vittorio had come across, though the timeline and his memories were hazy.

But in between centuries of sporadic trials, Vittorio had spent most of his time wandering the fog, not confined to a campfire like the rest of them. He'd told Ace that he used to be obsessed with people called the watchers—or observers, or something—so Ace supposed it made sense that he'd been on his way to becoming one.

"I saw one of the girls get chased by sirens and flashing lights," Vittorio said, still looking at the trio. "And one crying on her birthday, before her father made her smile again. And the Japanese one I saw in the future, far away, and she was killing…she killed them all."

Vittorio's eyes were starting to look vacant. But it was only when the tattoo on his neck started glowing that Ace decided to intervene.

"Hey," Ace said, putting a hand on Vittorio's shoulder. "It's okay. Parallel universe, right? No biggie."

"You're right,'' Vittorio said. When he looked back at Yui, he seemed a little more relaxed. "I've seen how she is. She values loyalty above all else; she's not a murderer."

Suddenly, Ace almost wanted to ask if Vittorio had seen him in any visions.

"I never wanted this," Vittorio continued, so quietly Ace didn't know if it was meant for him to hear. "All I ever wanted was peace. To help the world."

"I don't think world peace is a one man job," Ace joked. "But it's a nice sentiment."

Vittorio's smile was melancholy. "At least I can try to make things better here and help as much as I can."

Coming from anyone else, Ace would have rolled his eyes and asked Dwight to calm down with the team-building speeches. But this was a man who had been doing this for hundreds of years and, somehow, still kept on hoping and earnestly helping others.

"Well," Ace said. "You're at least helping by keeping me entertained. And trust me, that's more important than you'd think. There've been flashlight duels and misuse of murky reagents—and a few explosions—when I got bored."

It probably wasn't the kind of world-saving heroics Vittorio was aiming for, but this time, his smile was genuine enough to reach his eyes.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised."

═════════════ ♧ ═════════════

Trials came and went and Vittorio settled more firmly into their group dynamic.

It was strange, having a new teammate who wasn't exactly new. Vittorio had more experience in trials than most of them combined, and after the initial hiccups—mostly consisting of Chinese cursing and “Stop wasting gen efficiency, you fucking fossil!”—Vittorio proved to be a valuable asset against any killer.

"Watch out!" Vittorio hissed, suddenly pulling Ace away from the generator they were working on.

Ace stumbled after him, shooting a confused glance over his shoulder to where the green orb of the Knight's phantom passed their generator by probably forty feet.

"It's okay," Ace said. "He missed the gen. We can keep working."

"No," Vittorio insisted. "That's the jailer. He's an expert at tracking."

Ace dubiously watched as the phantom phased into existence far from the generator. He immediately started down the path his master had determined for him, not even looking at the generator…

Until he came across Ace's muddy footprints from before.

Ace watched the guard change course and follow the trail to the generator. He peered behind the machine and looked around, and Ace was suddenly very glad for Vittorio's foresight to quietly sneak them away. Because the guard found nothing and returned to his path, and Ace avoided what would otherwise have been a nasty burn from that branding iron.

"Huh," Ace said. "That was pretty impressive foresight, not gonna lie."

Vittorio huffed. "One of the few good things to come from being acquainted with Tarhos and his followers, I suppose."

"Oh, right," Ace said. "I forgot you used to know these guys."

It was bizarre to think that Vittorio was from the same time as the killer with platemail armor. While Vittorio had been seeking knowledge all these centuries, the Knight had apparently been content with slicing people up with his little posse.

"Come, now," Vittorio said. "It should be safe."

Vittorio nudged him back towards the generator and only then did Ace realize that he'd been holding onto Ace's arm this entire time.

═════════════ ♧ ═════════════

"Must've been lonely, all those centuries on your own," Ace said over a game of cards. "And here I thought a few years of celibacy was bad."

"It never felt like hundreds of years for me," Vittorio said. "But time does pass differently here."

"Still, there's gotta be more interesting stuff for you to do than hang around an old geezer like me."

Vittorio snorted. "If you're old, that would make me ancient."

"Doesn't stop Kate and Jane from checking you out," Ace said. "And unless your monk training required a chastity vow or something, I'm pretty sure body language is universal."

Ace waggled his eyebrows and threw in a wink for good measure. If Vittorio was offended by his matchmaking attempt, he at least didn't show it.

"I'm a philosopher, not a monk," Vittorio explained patiently. "Regardless, I always valued intellectual compatibility above all else. Which is difficult to achieve if there's no way to even communicate."

Ace shoved down the disappointment. If he'd been entertaining any sort of romantic-slash-sexual angle with Vittorio, those thoughts were definitely dwindling with the requirement of intellectual compatibility.

"Damn, it's a shame Claud doesn't speak Italian," Ace said. "She's wicked smart. You'd probably get on great."

Vittorio hummed and adjusted the cards in his hands. "I mostly gave up on romance after my first and last bed partner turned on me and now kills me on a daily basis."

Ace's brain did the equivalent of a record screech. "What!?"

"Tarhos," Vittorio said, his face neutral like he was discussing the weather. "I told you, he used to be my bodyguard—among other things."

Ace could only stare at his friend and try not to gape like a fish as he pieced together this new information.

Logically, Ace knew that same-sex attraction had existed since the dawn of time—hello, ancient Greece—but he never actually expected Vittorio would be interested in men; or at the very least, not admit it so casually.

"You're shitting me, right?" Ace said.

Vittorio gave a one-shoulder shrug. "There's nothing for me to gain by lying."

As he said it, Vittorio met Ace's eyes with something akin to a smirk.

"Speaking of, were you planning on putting back those two extra cards you took last round?" Vittorio asked. "Because I may not know much about this game, but I'm almost certain that's against the rules."

And Ace could only laugh somewhat hysterically before attempting to explain his little card maneuver as a legitimate strategy, all the while recovering from the absolute whiplash of the last few minutes.

Because, yes, Ace still found Vittorio hot: that little fact hadn't changed just because they were friends now. Vittorio still looked like someone had taken David's muscles, Felix's face and Jeff's rugged charm and mashed them into Ace's ultimate wet dream.

But he never thought anything would come of it. The guy was from a completely different time, was only talking to Ace because that was his only option for company, and had probably seen enough shit for a hundred lifetimes.

And now, he was learning that there might be a chance after all?

No matter how small that chance was, Ace had to take it.

═════════════ ♧ ═════════════

"So, I've been meaning to ask," Ace said a few days later.

Vittorio paused in stocking a toolbox, immediately giving Ace his full attention. "Yes?"

And looking at that handsome face and those deep green eyes staring so earnestly into Ace's own…

Ace chickened out.

"What's that tattoo on your neck?" Ace asked. "The one that lights up like a glowstick when you go all…observer-y."

"Oh." Was Ace imagining it, or did Vittorio sound disappointed? "It's… well, it's probably easiest if I show you."

With that, Vittorio shrugged out of his jacket and reached for the hem of his shirt, and Ace only had enough mental capacity to swallow an embarrassing noise. He glanced around in alarm: they were right by the campfire, with a dozen or so people milling about and Christ, anyone could see the impromptu strip show!

Someone gasped across the campsite and when Ace finally turned to look, he almost wanted to do the same.

Vittorio was covered in tattoos. From his neckline all the way down to his waist, tattoos in various shapes and colors took up the majority of his muscular torso. Most of them were symbols or writing Ace couldn't understand—but then again, he didn't know what he expected from a medieval philosopher.

"How…?" Ace managed to get out.

"I did most of these by myself," Vittorio said. He brushed over a row of what looked like runes on his forearm. "When I was locked in the dungeon, I marked myself with every ancient symbol and passage I could remember. It's how I got the Entity's attention, and what lets me channel energy in trials."

For the second time in just a few days, Ace was rendered speechless. He had seen Vittorio use some sort of portals on generators, but other than Feng's complaints, none of the survivors had been keen to learn more about it.

The longer they were silent, the more Ace could feel people staring. Some of the others were already whispering, but in the end, only one person dared to approach.

"Hi," Mikaela said, finally snapping Ace out of it.

"Hello, beautiful!" Ace's poor, frazzled brain automatically resorted to flirting.

"Those symbols…" Mikaela reached her hand out, hovering above Vittorio's chest. "Can I…?"

Ace had half a mind to tell her to get her own half-naked, medieval hunk. But before he could, the woman's hand started glowing.

"Whoa," Ace said. "Easy there, Red."

"Ask him to channel the power," Mikaela said. "There's—I can feel the potential of the magic, but I can't reach it."

"Reach what?" Ace said. He trusted Mikaela, he really did, but if there was a chance of her witchiness hurting Vittorio… "What are you doing?"

It was an unnerving sight, seeing Vittorio's tattoos and Mikaela's hand both glow the same unnatural blue. The lights were pulsing in tandem, almost like a heartbeat, but Vittorio only watched the sight curiously.

"There's so much knowledge in his magic," Mikaela said. "We just need to unlock it."

"Ace?" Vittorio asked. He still looked as calm as ever. "What is she saying?"

Ace swallowed and stamped down on his own worry-slash-jealousy.

"She said to channel your magic—uh, like when you're doing the observer thing, I guess." Ace frowned. "But you don't have to."

Vittorio looked back at Mikaela, and then he nodded.

"Good," Mikaela said. "I'll try to amplify the magic. Ready?"

"Now, hold on just a minute—" Ace tried.

"It's alright," Vittorio said. "I want to try this."

Ace sighed and stepped back, giving the duo some space.

"I swear, if you break him…" he told Mikaela.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Please just stay out of the way."

And that was apparently all the warning Ace got, because as Vittorio closed his eyes, the glow that resulted from his and Mikaela's shared magicking was bright enough to nearly blind him.

Ace shielded his eyes from the flash of light and heard many curses and yelps as others did the same.

"What the fuck!?" Nea exclaimed.

"Ugh, my eyes!" Steve complained.

"Is everyone okay?" Jane asked. "Mikaela? Vittorio?"

"We're fine," said a familiar deep voice.

A very familiar voice that was no longer speaking in Italian.

Ace blinked the light from his eyes, only to see his friends seemingly unharmed—save for the fact that Vittorio's eyes were glowing blue.

"I assume it worked?" Mikaela asked.

Vittorio smiled. "I'd say so, yes."

Ace could only gape stupidly. From everything he had expected Mikaela's little spiritual session to include, making Vittorio a fluent English-speaker wasn't part of it.

The others cheered and swarmed the man, now free to talk to him without Ace's interference, and Ace's heart sank to his stomach.

He should have been happy for his friend. This would make things much easier in trials and do wonders for the survivors as a team, not to mention vastly improve Vittorio's quality of life since he was no longer restricted to one person as his entire social circle.

So why was Ace so disappointed?

═════════════ ♧ ═════════════

A few hours later, footsteps approached Ace at the edge of camp—where he was absolutely not sulking away from the group, thankyouverymuch—and it was a small surprise to see Vittorio flop down next to him.

Ace glanced over. Vittorio was usually more graceful, but this time he just sort of…crumpled to the ground, heaving a sigh as he dragged a hand down his face.

Clearly, he wasn’t looking forward to this conversation, but they both knew it had to be done.

Instead of friend-dumping Ace, however, Vittorio merely propped one of his arms up on a nearby log and looked at Ace with a smile: a small, tired smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“Ciao,” Vittorio said.

Ace just stared at him. The way Vittorio was leaning against the log, arm casually draped over it with the rest of his body on display and an easy smile on his face made him look like something out of the magazines Ace used to steal and hide under his pillow when he was a teenager, until his father found them and…

Yeah, okay, not going there.

“How's it going?” Ace asked.

Vittorio frowned. “Why are you speaking English?”

Ace shrugged. “No use trying to talk in code when everyone’s gonna understand every word you say regardless.” He averted his eyes and kicked at a pebble on the ground. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you get back to them? I’m sure they’re all dying to talk to you.”

It wasn’t a lie: he could feel several pairs of eyes lingering on them and probably anxiously awaiting their turn to talk to Vittorio.

Vittorio huffed. “Have you considered the possibility that maybe I don’t want to speak to thirty people at once?”

When Ace’s response was only a skeptical look, he continued, “The magic requires conscious effort to keep active and getting to know this many new people at once is exhausting. I’d much rather keep it to short intervals and spend the rest of my time with you.”

Ace couldn’t stop the smile from creeping up on his face. Switching back to their shared language, he said, "Well, in that case, I guess I'm all yours.”

It was seemingly just another cheesy line and, hopefully, Vittorio wouldn’t realize how much Ace truly meant it.

Vittorio just frowned, then said softly, “I saw you, you know.”

“I wasn’t moping,” Ace reflexively lied.

Vittorio huffed a quiet laugh and shook his head in what seemed like fond exasperation—his default mood when it came to being around Ace, really.

“In a vision,” Vittorio clarified.

“What, just now?” Ace asked.

“No,” Vittorio said. “A very long time ago. It was from one of your stories: the one where you challenged the female fighter for a bet. It’s one of the first visions I remember having in the fog.”

“Oh,” Ace said, then promptly cleared his throat as realization set in. “Damn, that's the memory you saw? I've had more glamorous moments in my life, you know.”

At least it wasn't Ace’s secret gay porn stash or any of the numerous loan sharks threatening him.

“I wasn’t sure it was you at first,” Vittorio kept going. “It was such a long time ago and I didn’t remember all the details; I didn’t know much about the future back then. And even when I thought I recognized you, you didn’t seem at all like a violent person. I assumed it could have been…” he trailed off.

“A dark universe?” Ace suggested.

“Yes. But after getting to know you and learning how reckless you are, not to mention your stupidly proud smile whenever you tell the story—”

“Hey! It's a good story!”

Vittorio smiled. “I can see that it was definitely you.”

“Well, yeah.” Ace cleared his throat and averted his eyes from the sincere smile. “I’m glad you remembered. I think?”

“It’s strange,” Vittorio continued, “how much calmer I felt as soon as I recognized you when I first came to this campfire. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner—that was dishonest of me.”

“Uh, no, it’s all good,” Ace said. “It was probably a confusing situation. It’s not like you could have known you’d stay with our gang for this long.”

“That’s not true,” Vittorio protested gently. “Arriving here was different from all the other places I’ve come across in the fog. It feels like I know these people.”

He cast a glance over the survivor campsite where everyone had mostly returned to their usual tasks of sorting items and talking shit about killers.

Vittorio looked back up to meet Ace’s eyes and said, “Like after centuries of wandering, I’ve finally found the place where I belong.”

Ace kept telling himself it didn’t mean anything.

═════════════ ♧ ═════════════

Ace sighed and clutched the apology medkit in his hand.

He and Vittorio had had their first fight. The Deathslinger had been a little too happy to focus his attention on the new survivor and Ace had the brilliant idea to take a couple harpoons to the chest to buy Vittorio at least a few seconds to make distance from the killer.

Unfortunately, it had ended in all of them dead. And after Jane lectured Ace's ear off about ignoring generators, Vittorio had actually raised his voice for the first time and yelled at Ace for intervening in his trial.

And maybe Ace had snapped something vaguely sarcastic back, and that hadn't gone over well, and eventually Vittorio's kind eyes had hardened into a glare and he'd stormed off.

Thus, the apology medkit.

Ace eventually found Vittorio in the woods surrounding the campfire, standing by a small lake and looking out over the still water.

"Hey," Ace said, then hurried to add, "Don't worry, I come bearing gifts."

He held out the medkit. Vittorio simply stared down at it.

Then, Vittorio sighed and dragged a hand down his own face. "I'm sorry."

Ace blinked stupidly. "Uh, I'm pretty sure that's my line."

"I haven't lost my temper like that since…I don't even remember."

Since Vittorio didn’t seem interested in his bribe—ahem, peace offering—Ace made the executive decision to toss the medkit on the ground.

"Well," Ace said. "I am pretty good at getting on people's nerves."

Vittorio smiled at him. "You're also very good at calming people down."

Ace shrugged. "Eh, jury’s still out on that one. Still, I’m sorry too."

"Don't be. You…your actions made me realize something."

Ace swallowed the automatic quip of “That I'm a dumbass?” and forced himself to be serious for once in his life.

"Yeah?" he asked.

Vittorio hesitated, then took a pointed step closer, making Ace realize just how much distance there had been between them. Assuming Vittorio was pissed at him, Ace had unconsciously kept him at arm’s length—but that didn’t seem to sit well with either of them.

Because now that Ace thought about it, Vittorio always seemed to hover in Ace’s space. He’d brush a hand over Ace’s back when passing him, sit close enough that their knees bumped when they relaxed by the campfire, and lean on Ace’s shoulder for support while he wheezed at Ace’s jokes that he swore he didn’t find funny.

Ace had simply assumed it was a cultural thing: Mediterranean people and Latin Americans were both a little touchy-feely. But now he was starting to question the seemingly platonic gestures.

Vittorio’s brow furrowed while he studied Ace—probably concerned about the fact that Ace had gone a good two minutes without so much as a joke or sarcastic eyebrow raise—before he finally spoke.

“I’m not very good at this sort of thing,” Vittorio admitted. “I’m not sure how to be any clearer, and you are impossible to read…” he trailed off and fidgeted, actually appearing uncertain.

That was on opening if Ace ever saw one.

“Like I said the other day.” Ace grinned and took a step closer. “Body language.”

He tilted his head up and gently grabbed a handful of Vittorio’s shirt to pull him closer, giving the man his best seductive smile.

…Except instead of sweeping Ace off his feet and kissing him silly, Vittorio’s eyes went wide and he froze completely under Ace’s touch.

Ace immediately pushed himself off. “Shit. My bad!” He ran a hand through his hair in a gesture he desperately hoped looked casual. “I read that completely wrong. Sorry about that.”

Ace could almost physically feel the hit his confidence was taking from the rejection. He really had to stop thinking with his dick before he ruined what had become one of the best friendships he’d ever had.

A warm hand grabbed Ace’s wrist and stopped him from fretting with his hair.

Vittorio was smiling, his eyes now fond. “You just took me by surprise.” He huffed. “Apparently, things have changed somewhat in the last six centuries.”

Ace’s smile returned. “Oh yeah? Was kissing about a date twenty type of thing?” he bantered along. “You never thought to peep on those kinds of things in the future?”

“I can't exactly choose what visions I see,” Vittorio protested, though his face pinked as he blushed.

It was a pretty blush and Ace wanted about fifty more of it, please and thank you.

“Then maybe you should show me how you did it in the olden days,” Ace challenged with a wicked smirk.

In response, Vittorio raised their joined hands to his mouth—all the while keeping eye contact—and gently kissed the inside of Ace’s wrist.

“Oh.” Ace’s voice cracked on the word but dammit, that was really nice.

“Would you believe me,” Vittorio said, lowering their hands to properly intertwine their fingers, “if I said that things were much more crude back then than they are now?”

Ace perked up. “Really now?”

Vittorio chuckled at his obvious eagerness. “But this isn't the 1300st century,” he continued, cupping Ace’s jaw with his other hand. “And I can adapt.”

“In my humble opinion, it sounds like a compromise would be in order—”

Vittorio decided to shut him up with a kiss and Ace’s witty response—along with most of his coherent thoughts—promptly fizzled out into nothing.

Vittorio’s beard rasped pleasantly against Ace’s own and, wow, Ace was really kissing someone who hadn’t been kissed in several hundred years. No matter how much Vittorio had tried to play off his need for intimacy, he was clearly desperate for this and very much into it, his lips a little sloppy and his hand tightly clutching Ace’s.

It was flattering, really.

Ace was completely on board and gave as good as he got, clinging to Vittorio’s jacket and standing up on the balls of his feet to press even closer, kiss even harder. He experimentally flicked his tongue over Vittorio’s bottom lip and his effort earned him a quiet moan that shot straight to his groin.

When Vittorio finally pulled away, his breathing was heavier and he was blushing in earnest, pink coloring his cheeks all the way to his ears.

It made him look somehow even more handsome than usual.

Vittorio smiled down at Ace. “That was nice,” he murmured softly.

“Worth waiting six centuries for?” Ace quipped.

Vittorio laughed and warm pride spread through Ace’s body. Vittorio looked so utterly happy here, in this moment of quiet closeness and shared jokes, and Ace wanted to keep making him smile and laugh and blush for many years to come.

Vittorio leaned back down, then murmured against Ace’s lips. “Worth every single year.”

═════════════ ♧ ═════════════

It was easy after that.

Ace strolled back into camp after a trial and found Vittorio propped up against one of the logs, his legs sprawled out on the ground in that effortlessly attractive way he always carried himself. He held a book with some weird symbols carved on the cover—one of Mikaela's spell tomes, if Ace had to guess—and his eyes were glowing blue as he translated the text in his mind's eye or whatever.

Ace immediately flopped down next to him with a dramatic sigh, leaning into Vittorio’s side and letting his head rest on a muscular shoulder.

“Damn, your friend really had it out for me,” Ace complained. “That assassin phantom, the one who can outrun us? Somehow always managed to find me when I was injured. I want to file a harassment complaint.”

Vittorio hummed in acknowledgement and the corner of his mouth quirked up. He kept reading but snaked his hand around Ace’s shoulders and gently massaged the spot where Ace had been repeatedly pierced through with a meat hook.

Ace sighed happily and leaned into the touch, his eyes sliding shut as he relaxed from the soft affection.

He could hear murmurs around the campfire: some people had been quite surprised about this turn of events when they shared the news, others had said "told you so", and a few thousand bloodpoints had even exchanged hands.

Ace tuned them all out but he knew people were staring. Here Ace was, casually leaning against his gorgeous, 600-something-old boyfriend, one who was currently glowing blue and magically translating a foreign language, and who would periodically get visions of the future or alternate dimensions.

Yeah, it was a little weird.

There was a laugh from behind them and Ace perked up in anticipation of the newest gossip, but slumped back down in defeat once he heard Élodie go on in French.

“Did you know that Élodie and the architect are dating?” Vittorio asked.

Ace gawked at him. “What?!”

“For quite some time now, apparently,” Vittorio said, still seemingly engrossed in his book but apparently eavesdropping at the same time. “Hm. It's a wonder nobody has noticed.”

“You can…you've learned to…” Ace stammered.

“Translate any language, yes.” Vittorio turned to him and smirked. “Do you think I should tell the others?”

So, maybe his boyfriend had a few voyeuristic tendencies Ace probably should be concerned about.

But then again, Ace was a huge gossip, so maybe it was meant to be.

“Oh hell no.” Ace grinned and leaned closer, draping himself against Vittorio’s side. “This is our little secret and we'll reveal it when they least expect it. Like one of those times when Feng is cursing me out in Mandarin, you can interrupt her with ‘Actually, Ace's mother is a lovely woman, and secondly I'm not about to let him shove a whole flashlight up his—’”

“Alright, alright.” Vittorio chuckled, nudging Ace to shut him up. He lowered his head, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Our secret.”

Ace’s heart soared and he didn’t even hesitate before pulling Vittorio into a kiss in full view of the others.

He hadn’t been this happy in years and nobody—not even their so-called friends making gagging noises in the background or Vittorio’s murderous ex stabbing him repeatedly—could take this away from him.

#tosconti #ace visconti #vittorio toscano #dbd fanfic #dweetwrites #dbd #dead by daylight

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aimasup · 2 years

Text

So my brother and I were talking about Fnaf lore for the billionth time

we (aka my brother, bless his galaxy brain for his AUs and amazing ideas) ended up unprofessionally redesigning the Security Breach gameplay. Its not very organized and its all non-specific and just for fun so uhh long, long post warning

Premise

the same. Gremlin Gregory needs out and Freddy is great except its our rules now bitches

There's two nights. At the end of Night 1, you are given two options, leave or stay.

Leaving gives you different endings depending on what you did during the first night, staying until Night 2 gives you two endings (one of which is canon)

Pizzaplex mechanics (?)

It's a free-roam fnaf game for the love of god give us more activities

Besides fearing for your life and constantly trying not to get seen, you can now do things in the various attractions! Hold button to eat various foods at the areas, loot the shops, go bowling, play golf, play laser tag, pick a GIF to loop in the theatre, etc. Not confined to the plot really just have fun and don't get caught

The employee and customer complaints might be found in the (unkempt and unimportant) complaint boxes, which you can look at if you want for extra lore, instead of popping up in your Fazwatch to crowd your missions

All that above is available after the daycare section

The Pizzaplex opens at 7 instead of 6, and each hour is 10 minutes. Time progresses automatically, you just have to make it to the end of the night and explore

Autosaves. In addition to the monitor saves.

The security badges are cool, they can stay. But they only are really relevant in Night 2

Collectibles

They're colour-coded based on what they contain

it's either a.) something that helps you progress like the Hippo Magnet or something to throw as a distraction (a prompt will appear for 'aim to distract')

b.) A save slot, in the form of crumpled paper you can take out and crayon on at anytime. So now you have a limited supply of emergency saves (Resident Evil style), monitor saves, and autosaves.

Night 1

c.) Items for customization. Customize your watch, customize Freddy, customize the other three Glamrocks running after you, customize Vanessa and Vanny. Fun stuff

Basic plot, you encounter the Glamrocks, the Daycare Attendant, the 2 V's, ominous mystery stuff is laid out

You run and hide and fetch-quest but also have fun

When you survive the night Freddy sits you down and gives you the option to stay or leave

If you leave and had played less than 3 unique attractions, you get the 'Boring Ending'

That's one of the 'Leave' endings. There are others (one of them is where Freddy gets replaced by Mr Hippo and you played more than 3 attractions) but we didn't think too deep into that

If you choose to stay, Freddy has to go perform during the day, but there's an in-between loading screen where it autosaves and shows Freddy putting a blanket over a sleeping Gregory

Night 2

You stayed! And you have to investigate you little detective you

For the first half of the night, you have to go to a different security office for evidence against Vanessa (find security badges) but oh no you have to play against different animatronics

Basically you have to classic Fnaf your way out of each hour (it doesn't progress automatically, only after you complete like three security offices) and get rewarded with tapes and lore and stuff

Daycare Attendant one session, Chica and Roxy the next, Monty the third, etc.

In every security office, Vanny is a present threat. We don't need Gregory to be kidnapped

Again, time progresses differently, like according to the plot instead of real-life 10 minutes, because you aren't just trying to make it to 7 am this time

The next half is where you can split into two endings again

You can either boss fights and Music Man (upgrade Freddy for canon ending)

Or just Music Man without mangling anyone

The Blob isn't alive. It's more of a big, stationary ominous pile of parts that contains the last part you need to upgrade Freddy with. Gregory tugs the last part out, it comes crashing down, nothing but an empty husk.

Gregory notes how 'creepy and soulless' the Blob is, which confirms that the souls have finally moved on and left their metal prisons behind

In the canon ending, you destroy Freddy's friends, and near the end Vanny gets Freddy possessed and you have to deal with her and your bear dad, who you upgraded. Good luck idiot /lh

Crilliam Wafton gets to come back, sure, but Vanny expositions that Glitchtrap is not the same as William. William's dead and gone, this glitch is more of a back-up AI made to continue his work with his voice. This 'Burntrap' is also fixed up with parts of a dead Glamrock Bonnie

You get Freddy back, you kill Vanny and Glitchtrap without the Blob's help, you two escape in a kickass truck, hooray

No we don't know what the hell is going on with the giant animatronics and the FNAF Pizzeria Simulator underground

The ending where you don't upgrade Freddy is where you eradicate Vanny and Glitchtrap, indirectly saving the animatronics plus Vanessa, and escaping with nothing but Freddy's head. Burntrap doesn't make an appearance and the Pizzaplex remains intact

No we don't know the specifics either

Chica mechanics

The fastest animatronic

She's loud as hell, so if she's like two rooms away, she still sounds like she's right next to you, which just does not help anything

If she sees you she squawks louder, and any animatronic nearest to her comes running. Yes this will be very annoying

Will leave you alone even if you hide in front of her.

Stunnable

Shattered!Chica mechanics

Second fastest

Silent except for when she sees you

Still alerts others

Will ambush you (?idk) because you can't hear her

Stunnable

Monty mechanics

The second fastest animatronic

Unstunnable

Charges/leaps at you if he sees you (always lands close, not directly on you)

Shattered!Monty mechanics

The slowest animatronic

Stunnable

You can walk up to him and flash his eyes to be a dick

But if you do that he will leap at you

In which case you can just stun him midair and completely ruin his attack

or sidestep him

On rare occasions, he tries to get you in the vents

Roxanne mechanics

Slowest animatronic

Can see you from a certain range, even through walls

Hiding in Freddy doesn't do jack shit she knows you're in there. Will yank you out no matter what happens. Just run

We just decided that her eyes are kind of overpowered so just make her the slowest as an exchange. Her attraction is a raceway so it's ironic

Stunnable

Shattered!Roxanne mechanics

Is now the fastest

Can't see you but WILL hear you

So she's besties with Chica here I guess

Unstunnable

Freddy mechanics

The same

More voice lines

Stunnable hehe

We don't know why he jumpscares you when the batteries run out. We don't know what to do with that so uhh

In the final showdown (canon ending) you get rid of the virus while possessed!Freddy is a background menace with all the upgrades you gave him

You get him back of course

In the second ending you don't have to fight bear dad but he does get very beat up

Sun mechanics

After the daycare section and somewhere in the game, you can find him wandering around the first floor, mostly near the Daycare lobby

Talking to him as Gregory will result in several responses of him pouting or huffing or explaining why Gregory is a rulebreaker

Then again Gregory doesn't have much nice things to say to Sun

Doing it over 10 times makes him stamp his foot and go 'WEEWOO SECURITY'. So now you have to outrun every glamrock plus three security bots

Yes you can keep doing that as Gregory

Talking to him as Freddy on the other hand gives plenty of useful information, jokes, slight lore drops, etc.

Because he's kind of an NPC, you can go through the game and still head back to him at any time and repeat some dialogue in case you forget things. You just have to find him

There might be a cutscenes where someone (idk. A Glamrock? Vanessa?) asks him where Gregory is and he just goes 'teehee' with a vague answer

Sun's deal is basically information in exchange for you draining Freddy's batteries because you have to stay in him

There's a charging station nearby dw

Moon mechanics

The daycare section is the same except you get an autosave after every generator, maybe even more if you collected your own save slots

When the power goes out and you're within vicinity of Moon as Gregory, he will give chase, of course, all creepy-like

As Freddy, though, you can kind of talk with Moon? But the infected daycare attendant doesn't have much to say besides something along the lines of punishment and being suspiscious

It's still not that safe to be around Moon as Freddy because although in this version Moon can't see Gregory in Freddy, he does follow Freddy around unless you get into a charging station

Moon patrols everywhere unlike Sun, so this is a problem

During the security office sequences, maybe have some shots of two red glowing eyes on the walls to determine where the DA is through the cameras

Some lights-on lights-off mechanic in the office

General animatronic mechanics

They don't roam everywhere, they have broad but limited patrol areas

Vanny can tamper with your electronics or whatever you're doing, idk. Have her be a more active threat by showing her in monitors, where there's a virus bar you need to stop from getting too high

All animatronics are distracted by audio lures or things you can throw (except non-possessed!Freddy)

Basically apply old Fnaf mechanics in a larger scale

Boss fights

You could actually accidentally race Roxanne. It will be kind of goofy but there should be the paranoia of her constantly almost catching up in the back view

Monty's fine

Chica's 'boss fight' could really just be adding the Monty Mix you collected into a prepared pizza and delivering it to the trash compactor. Take that 'cooking distraction' section out the middle of the game and make it her official defeat.

You have to close the trash compactor yourself so the cutscenes of fighting her still happens

Also when preparing the pizza, a conveyor belt that's almost too slow instead of running station to station would be nice and tense

In every boss fight, Vanny tampers and taunts and. yknow. Its like a game to her almost

Finally, Mr. Hippo

Cute little optional easter egg, you find a rambling half-shelled endoskeleton during the first night in the maintenance area. You can stay out of range and cycle through his three very, very long stories

If you get too close it jumpscares you.

You don't die, it sits you down and forces you to get through one of his stories

It's one of the Night 1 endings. You sat and listened to Mr. Hippo all night

I think that's it tbh. If you made it this far congratulations.

no really, this was probably very hard to read

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