#For helping me clearing that dungeon

[cheezyharu]

FINALLY DONE WITH THIS CHICKEN ASS MF

[fumifooms]

Marcille and Chilchuck’s interwoven character arcs: the fantasy of prince charming, idealization vs pessimism and loss

I’ve alluded to Marcille and Chilchuck being central to each other’s arcs so many times but the proper full analysis has been long overdue. I’ve made a post going into their differences and similarities and the many ways they’re foils for each other, but this is going to give more focus to a narrative rather than character angle this time around. We talk a lot about the importance of Marcille in Chilchuck’s arc, it's more obvious overall, but less so about Chilchuck’s importance in her own, so this is going to emphase on the latter. When talking about fantasy vs reality, usually optimism is associated with fantasy and pessimism with reality, but that's not the full picture either. Both situations and relationships can be layered and subtext can imply quite a lot, the reality of things can be more complex than we'd like or hard to reconcile, and that's exactly what we're talking about today and how that is a lesson both Marcille and Chilchuck needed to learn. Give this a shot and look at the manga pages alongside my reading and decide for yourself whether I’ve got a point or I’m going overboard~!

So, Marcille and Chilchuck are character foils in many many ways, and I think a particularly brilliant part of their arc is how they balanced each other out on idealization. On one hand, idealizing things means only seeing what you want to see through rose-colored glasses, on the other, being completely opposed to it usually means denouncing any optimism at all, refusing to hold any good faith or hope. These stances reflect both their backgrounds, as Chilchuck has lived through being discriminated against and taken advantage of consistently, betrayed by employers and eventually the person supposed to be closest to him, his wife, meanwhile Marcille grew up more sheltered and lonely, and books were a big way through which she experienced social situations & the ways of the world in her rural home before going to the magic academy as a researcher and getting more actual life experience herself.

I think it’s especially interesting to analyze the trope of— the idealization of— the perfect chivalrous prince on a white horse who is pure hearted and will make you swoon, in the context of their relationship and their arcs! It’s a recurring motif- you’ll just have to trust me and read further~ Obviously this contains spoilers for the whole manga, so beware! It's very long because I'm trying to cover the topic fully from the ground up, my apologies.

Table of contents:

How they start out

The Daltian Clan and its importance

Prince Charming vs Chilchuck Tims

Ideals vs desires vs wants

Deconstructing realistic romance & compromising between romanticism and reality

Princess imagery in Marcille

Conclusion

Let’s start with the beginning:

How the characters start off:

Their relationship is both familiar and strained (extra reading: analysis of their relationship pre-canon and early canon), they bounce off each other with the ease of coworkers who’ve been working together for two years and who share similar common sense. Because yes they’re both generally grounded and rational, and generally they respect each other’s input and perspective, but, they both have blind spots…

The biggest hurdle is the way Chilchuck refuses to open up. Marcille has made efforts to befriend him, and though he was open to developing a better workplace dynamic and, say, helping her out with shopping for a pouch outside of work, even if it ended up being counterproductive he’d refuse to even just say his age, let alone share anything about his family situation. Knowing he had kids and a wife would have pretty efficiently fully shut down that he was a kid, and yet he valued being closed off more. Chilchuck is often shown being pessimistic, assuming the worst intentions out of people and being wary of anything good happening, being the last person to trust something or someone, etc. (Quick summary analysis of him I made if you want here, beyond the character foil analysis I linked at the beginning.) He prefers assuming that opening up will only bring him problems to assuming that it'd bring about positive things.

Meanwhile Marcille is very… Honestly she’s hard to classify strongly. Because I could say she’s very open to people, but honestly it’s conditional? She emotes intensely but she’s not quite a befriending machine either, especially when we recall the magic academy days as well, she’s not unused to keeping people at some level of distance, herself keeping a lot of secrets too. She was very wary of Laios at first because she had misconceptions, she holds grudges and isn’t personable with everyone like Namari or Toshiro, when she’s introduced to the party she seems serious and doesn’t smile. While I don’t fully agree, there’s a good analysis not by me here showcasing what I’m talking about. Marcille’s more serious academic side often gets undermined and I think it’s an important part of her, but then the difference between her and Chilchuck comes down to theory vs practice: knowledge vs experience. I think something more fitting to say would be that she’s idealistic and easily swayed, for example the way she lights up whenever she can put a story-like twist on things, her mood can go from dread to hype and reverse in one second, like with riding a kelpie or with the conflict between Chilchuck and his wife, or again with Namari, where it becomes a sort of hero vs antagonist dynamic for her where justice and righteous thoughts should override everything else like needing money to live. She's very stubborn, like he is, but it's easier for her to come around in dramatic ways, on things big and small, mentioning for another example thinking better of orcs suddenly because they can cook well.

So sure on first meeting she isn’t exactly eager, but then we do see her enthusiastically trying to befriend everyone! Becoming very friendly once she’s done assessing them. She is social, and fittingly she’s very curious about people. And that said, aesthetics do matter a lot to her, and I mean this beyond just enjoying vibes, for example- and follow along the lingo I'm setting up here- if something ‘breaks’ an aesthetic like Chilchuck or Falin not being a child she’ll willfully dismiss and ignore it, if she can spin something into a story like Chilchuck’s breakup she’ll get carried away, she can get the wrong impression, be gullible for the sake of believing a narrative, such and such. I’d say she’s guarded around people at first, but then with time becomes an open book emotions wise, how she’s always loudly and unapologetically talking about her feelings and emoting. She’s not reckless, rather she’s bold and often has to make decisions quickly, like when the plan unexpectedly changed during the red dragon fight, but things like using dark magic can feel like thoughtless decisions looking from the outside, like to Chilchuck, who as per his pessimism dictates he sees all of this in a negative light, assumes the worst: that she’s just ignorant, naive and reckless. She’s easily worried and discouraged but still always perseveres.

He's biased against mages and elves because of past experiences and he projects that onto Marcille. And it makes sense because good faith is dangerous to Chilchuck- for his feelings in relationships yes, but more concretely and important for his life at work, the way an old party of his was going to sacrifice him to succubi for easy money. Like the way he constantly puts his non-work values down to the group so they don’t have high expectations of him, having high expectations for someone else is vulnerability he doesn’t want to or cannot afford. The result however is that he, too, put people into boxes to avoid having his preconceived notions challenged. He's very judgemental, which we see with Laios as well, and even with Izutsumi in the ice golem chapter, but by then he's learned to self-reflect more and be honest with his feelings due to Leed, meaning his social conflicts get resolved more often and more quickly, again like with Izutsumi in the ice golem chapter.

So in the end, there are things that stand in the way of them having true, equal respect for one another. She sees him as a kid despite everything else (being capable and mature, etc etc), and he sees her as a ticking bomb of a naive elf mage who’s gonna get herself into legal trouble if she doesn’t get them killed first.

And it takes an arc spanning the whole manga for them to get there, to truly see each other on equal footing, culminating with the bicorn chapter.

I'm going to be mentioning them a lot so in my mind, the most important Marcille & Chilchuck arc defining scenes happen in: mandrake chapter, mimic chapter, shapeshifter chapter, hypogriff soup chapter, changelings, bicorn, succubus, and Marcille dungeon lord. We're talking mostly about Marcille's discrimination and their narrative about loss here, but on the end of Chilchuck's discrimination the dark magic plot is very central so honorable mention to the red dragon chapters, the harpies chapter and the cockatrice chapter, the latter where Chilchuck airs out his beef particularly directly.

Interestingly enough, the mandrake chapter which is in VERY early manga, where characters and dynamics are still being set up, Marcille gets Chilchuck to say that she isn't a burden and that he's glad they have her and her skillset with them, so the question of "does he respect her at all" was answered before the audience could even think to ask it, and Marcille also makes statements shortly after showing she respects him in turn- more on that later. This has for a result that we do know there's a foundation of respect here, even when as said it's not complete... yet.

So let’s get into it! Early on we already get a lot instances hinting at their opposed core values of optimism vs pessimism. It’s perfectly summarized in the two panel excerpts opening this post: "Sounds romantic!" "Sounds fishy.", hope vs wariness. "Meeting you was fate!" "… Which means it’s fate for you to eat these monsters, too!", if good things happening to you is fate then you must accept that all the bad things that happen to you are fate as well. It’s "Things will work out!" vs "Things will not work out".

The issue here seems rather evident, it’s a balancing game. Compromising, adapting your judgement to the situation. Yes Marcille romanticizes things too much and it can cause her trouble, and yes Chilchuck being so closed off on himself gets him into trouble as well.

(Not telling there was a mimic nearby being maybe the most straightforward example.)

His refusal to hope for anything good happening to him ever is at the core of him not having even tried reconciling with his wife (more on that later with the bicorn chapter). Through the manga, Chilchuck influences her to be more savvy and to respect boundaries more (with himself and Namari for example), while she influences him to become more open and give things a go. It’s no coincidence that it’s Marcille that pushes him to try reconciling with his wife and gives him hope that it just might work out- that that chance even on its own means it's worth giving it a shot.

The Daltian Clan & its importance

The importance of fiction in some people's lives and their specific psychological relationship to it is a very complex human brain topic with many many studies and an infinite amount of subtleties, I can't possibly do justice to this section at its full potential but I'll go over my major points. But the complex and layered nature of this relationship is why, for example, the interpretation that Marcille is a lesbian despite her likely attraction/love for male fictional characters (if not even just simping or stanning separate from those), has legs to stand on and is a compelling angle!

The Daltian Clan, often shortened as Dalclan, is Marcille's favorite book series and is very very personally important to her. In an extra we learn that part of it is that seeing a half-elf character personally reached out to her and meant a lot. She feels seen through it. Even if it's notable that the half-elf haracter isn't her favorite, general Hagreus, but the one with black hair. It's a Cinderella type of romance & convoluted political intrigue series full with a lot of drama, reminiscent of stuff like Romeo & Juliette or Richard III.

I believe that books were developmentally very important for her, similarly as to how cartoons are important to the education and development of toddlers and kids nowadays, or how oral stories like fairytales have always been important to teach lessons. Fiction engages readers and provides emotional stimulation, which can often be a flawed substitute for actual human contact- but nonetheless a big factor in socialization. For Marcille who lived in a rather rural region surrounded by books and chickens, who couldn't fit in with kids of any age around, books were a major part of teaching her how to socialize, how people and social groups worked. This is also part of why the autistic Marcille angle can be very compelling and plausible, though personally I don't see it that way.

So yes I think that sort of upbringing shaped her a lot, and I think it's part of why Marcille has trouble not putting people into boxes... Why even though Falin assured her it wasn't like that, Marcille had made this whole narrative in her mind painting Laios as a villain that stole Falin away against her will/for nefarious purposes. Why she has trouble not thinking of/treating Falin as a kid, unwilling to process how she has grown up. Why Chilchuck has to be very young in her mind, and it was very very hard for her to reconcile the fact that he wasn't. (It's actually interesting to note that Marcille treats Falin and Chilchuck similarly in a lot of ways, overstepping boundaries, being dimissive and touchy- There's a lot to say about how the party dynamic changed a lot with during canon it becoming just Laios, Marcille and Chilchuck at first and Laios' monster interest reveal, notably that in Falin's absence that she may have latched onto Chilchuck and treats him similarly to Falin may be her finding it omforting to fall into habits or filling a hole.) I think complexity in fictional characters gets her gears turning, but there's always a film of impersonality to it right, where it's not real, there's a safe distance, if you want to form romantic narratives about how things went down and a character's angst, you can, but someone who’s real… Things are often uglier or harder to grapple with. And she doesn’t want Falin to have grown up, for her to so quickly have aged. I think applying this sort of storybook veneer onto her real life connections, pushing people into boxes, is a way for her to make social relationships more digestible. And she's a big gossip enjoyer too! Engaging in shallow retellings of people's interpersonal drama, eating it up with enthusiasm and curiosity. Part of it, like with novels, is vicariously living through others I think, experiencing making connections where she hasn't or couldn't, the way her relationship with the other girls at the academy besides Falin stayed distant and shallow despite being friendly. Gossip, like stories, are safe, distant from your own life, they're easy to judge, not unlike the irl popular interest in following others’ online drama. You’re not involved yourself, so you don’t have as much chance of getting hurt. So yes, easier to digest. Less complex, less unpleasant things and less contradictions that are hard to process. Sort of like a defense mechanism to not have your worldview challenged, dodging having to recognize these things by assigning them tropes. And I think part of it too like I implied is: she can’t experience actual loss through books and gossip. They give her emotional social stimulation she doesn’t fully allow herself to have with actual humans for fear of getting invested in a way that’s very raw and personal. Again, like how she pushes Falin away to ignore the more nuanced facets to their relationship! The intensity of what I’m speculating on here in her character is debatable but I do think it’s present at least in some amount.

In a similar way to dogs being important to Laios’ social life (I made something of an analysis on that if you're interested, but this one's not relevant to what I'm talking about in this post) books are her comfort zone. If she can compare a real situation to a story it brightens everything and, well, it does make her assume things wrongly often but it also makes her able to analyze people deeply, like the roleplay-theory-speculation about Chilchuck's wife and the way she hit bullseye on how Chilchuck felt in the aftermath. But like how Marcille only agreed to wear the frog suit when the party told her it'd look cute on her, or how thinking about riding on kelpies made her excited for what previously she saw as a tedious and dreadful journey. Special interest power blast.

And this is where comes in her coworker, a disillusioned embittered man.

A guy who knows all about how messed up the world & people can be and isn't afraid to say it how it is, who in every sphere of life has field experience rather than fictional one- with romance, work, and having dreams & ambitions. Someone flawed and real, someone who won't let her interpret him however she wants without confronting her about it & challenging her to change her perspective.

It took a looot for Marcille to fully stop seeing him as a kid, and in a way I think it was necessary for the dissonance to be both this hard to reconcile and this impossible to ignore: that he truly is a middle-aged man down to his demeanor and family background but that he looks like a teen at most to her. That she literally has to look beyond aesthetics to be able to first fathom then accept and internalize that he's an adult despite his looks. That it was so ingrained and took so long, so much that even while she recognized and said "He's usually the most mature one of us", so much that even as it's implied that she knew logically he's an adult before the changelings, as pictured earlier she still couldn't conceive it. It's like with her calling Laios and Falin's parents kids in a post-canon extra, it's not that she doesn't know it's that it's hard to wrap her head around. Necessary and important because, if Chilchuck was any less loud about being a man she could have gone on unchallenged in her assumptions. If it was an easier to dismantle misconception, something easier to digest, then her arc of coming to see him as he is would have had less impact on her character, afterwards she could continue to run with her own interpretations of people like Falin and Namari without her confidence in being able to pin down people into simple roles being so fundamentally shaken. And it's notable too, that Namari's choice to leave the party to look out for herself situation was decidedly unheroic, but it was Chilchuck who spoke to Marcille about why her decision was both reasonable and had a lot of thought behind it, making her accept that it doesn't make Namari a bad person or even a bad coworker or friend.

Chilchuck is someone who knows that sometimes, bad things happen for no reason, and it's not meaningful or part of a grand narrative, it just sucks and you have to deal with it.

As the foil to her very emotional black and white interpretations of things, Chilchuck represents nuance, and he's impossible for her to ignore.

Prince Charming vs Chilchuck Tims

Chilchuck is so obviously not a prince charming. He doesn't have the looks, the attitude nor the lifestyle. Does he have the virtues for it? Well, no... But also, yes. More on that in a bit. It's also interesting to think of the status aspect to it, because being from an impoverished oppressed class/community is so central to Chilchuck's character, something usually far removed from prince charmings and white knights, and not only status wise but on the topic of virtues... It’s an interesting thread to explore, the way one may have the means to remain chivalrous rather than becoming distrustful and embittered: sometimes optimism is a sign of privilege, being able to be or remain optimistic through life. I'm sure Marcille would be the first to jump onto the aesthetic and narrative allure of a pauper in love with a princess, of a hero of the people à la Robin Hood, but it's still interesting to think of that as another facet of the contrast Chilchuck makes. Alright, tangent done.

But obviously, despite this all they have a great work dynamic and respect for each other's capabilities. It's not like Marcille is mean to people who don't fit these fairytale high standards, no that’s only when she feels wronged or if there's injustice, rather she becomes dismissive of people’s complexity, wether they become an angel like Falin or Marcille’s shapeshifter of Chilchuck or a villain like Namari and Toshiro or Laios when they met. But my point, my point: she actually thinks very highly of him!

"He’s usually the most mature one of us" "He’s dependable, we’re counting on him" "No, chilchuck is definitely virtuous."

And I think the ways in which that shows are very interesting.

^ Ok so this happens, in the Namari chapter I keep talking about. Look at his expression in this last panel. He's always teasing her, but doesn't this here feels a bit... Suggestive? Like he's implying things, not just talking about it in a work setting but also giving her general life advice. Maybe even making an innuendo for womanizers, gentlemen who flirt without meaning a thing and have some hidden agenda. Warning her about smooth talkers that seem too good to be true. It’s honestly a very easy to overlook but defining interaction for them. It’s a quote that’s on his Adventurer’s Bible plus his anime quote keychain merch!

I love his implication that "I say what I’m about straight up, money, so you can trust me"- and isn’t that just the exact thing… Because that is what this is, he’s pitting himself against these people who help without asking for anything and he's saying he’s more trustworthy and reliable than them, driving a wedge between him and those people to prop himself up by comparison. His words tie a lot here into his general worldview too, of course here he's ✨Imparting His Wisdom✨, but it also ties into his self-image issues I'd say, where he’s hard on himself and calls himself a coward etc: if no one has positive expectations for you on an interpersonal level, then you can’t disappoint them. It only goes up from here if you start at rock bottom, can't have unpleasant surprises.

But the meaningfulness of this moment doesn't start and end there: That moment happened in chapter 20, but then this happens in chapters 36-37...

I was always puzzled by the split second interaction between Marcille and Kabru. Marcille blushing is the point, it’s in the anime too and it’s the focus of the panel. That moment of hesitation before she goes back into business mode where she looks at him back, and blushes. And idk I always felt like it was weird timing, like it was a weird beat Kui chose to put emphasis on, why the story even had them make eye contact in the first place, what point it could be making besides "Kabru is handsome and charismatic" which was already made with Hien and Benichidori below, otherwise it's not even like Marcille and Kabru ever interact. Like, maybe it's for it to be a callback when she glances at him while the canaries interrogate her at Thistle's house? Regardless, she blushes, but her expression is more akin to a "Uuhh he smiled at me why’d he smile at me like that. Oh he’s kinda pretty. Well anyways-" rather than swooning or truly checking him out. She’s frowning, even. And like I said, being very naturally charming was a point already made previously.

But then… This repeated reminder that Kabru is a lady killer IS the point, Marcille reacting to him in that way IS the point. Kabru is the epitome of ‘will say they help you but has hidden motives and might betray your trust if it serves their interest’ (not a diss on him tbf he has understandable goals), he is the epitome of looking noble, welcoming and chivalrous but actually being dishonest and manipulative, and what’s important here is… Marcille turns away and sticks by Chilchuck. Of course this is logical, no one would expect her to go running to Kabru lol, but I implore you to think of the thematics of it all, a princely guy, the closest character of the cast in the flesh embodying the prince charming persona, is giving her some positive attention, and it does affect her a bit but nonetheless she turns away, and strategizes with Chilchuck instead of trusting or giving good faith or getting carried away. She chooses Chilchuck. Unlike so often, she doesn’t let aesthetics sway her here, get in the way of her better judgement, distract her from the point. She chooses not to give good faith, even if he seems charming and friendly and smiles. Marcille is serious when the situation requires it that's now new, but this is in line with the lesson he instilled earlier above. And if nothing else, Marcille has a good memory, exhibit B to come later. Here we see part of why Chilchuck was afraid of Laios or Senshi but not Marcille blurting out the wrong things with Toshiro and is party, when push comes to shove they're often on the same wavelength. Marcille and Chikchuck do strategize with specifically each other regularly, they do tend to pair up a lot after all, so this isn’t especially new, but it’s the first time there’s this sense of us vs them imo. Like how earlier Chilchuck was saying that he’s better than the smooth talker type, here we see Marcille implicitly agree.

She just has a passing glance & thought for Kabru but she knows her true allies and true values, and she wants to strategize with Chilchuck. What I am saying is that if she was given the choice to think through going with a guy that seems perfect and chivalrous like her succubus, if she was logical about it she’d pick Chilchuck over that guy actually, yeah. At the end of the day, no matter the pretty smiles, she knows who her actual friends are. Whiiich on that topic, next section!

Ideals vs desires vs wants

It's succubus analysis time

Her succubus is quite direcly a prince figure, a knight on a white horse who's come to whisk her away. He calls her princess, even! She's taken the role of Daltian Clan's protagonist, essentially. He kisses her hand, nothing short of the most classic courtly romance tropes. He's even drawn in a noticeably more shoujo style, not unlike the characters' faces in the aftermath of getting their energy sucked by succubi.

I made a whole analysis on specifically Laios’ succubus but it covers some stuff that could be interesting for this analysis as well, I’ll repeat the essential stuff tho: Their succubus all show what type of social connection they desire. Izutsumi’s is familial, Marcille wants someone she can emotionally connect with, seemingly romantic, Chilchuck wants something physical and sexual so he doesn’t have to think and worry about anything deeper (betrayal, insecurities, etc, the difficulting that come with a committed romantic relationship- also likely related to his senses & stress), and Laios wants people and friends who’ll accept him and his monster interest- platonic.

But more interesting for this analysis is how succubi work. The goal isn’t to beckon, but to incapacitate. The succubus doesn't work on the basis of rationality, it’s not a factor they go for and it’s not one they need to appeal to either, as we see. (Laios is a special case -gestures to the linked analysis- but the succubus doesn’t appeal to his rationality as much as it soothes his worries, his friends judging him etc etc, and the reason Izutsumi could remain unaffected is that there is always a half of her not enthralled by the succubus because she essentially has two souls.) Neither Marcille, Chilchuck or Izutsumi could realistically expect any of the people they saw to be real and not fake succubis. They KNOW that, they were actively preparing for the succubi to jump on them and fight back, rationally they know they're monsters! But how this monster works is that it targets deep desires within you that when face to face with it'll make you hesitate, make something in you unable to fight or flight and instead do the third instinctive option: freeze. Or especially in Laios’ case, the form gives the victim just enough confliction on the matter for them to want to believe it’s real. All they have to do is just not move, stay passive and accept the attention, so it’s not an issue of wether they reciprocate an action or run away. It's so that it shortcircuits you and leaves you open to pick like a fruit.

If this wasn’t the "reads your heart so deeply that it freezes you to the spot" monster, Chilchuck WOULDN’T be doing anything with these women. He’s been devoted to his wife even 4 years after separation on bad terms, you think he’d ever cheat on her? If this was a decision he were to make, instead of just freezing, he would reject it. In that similar way, Marcille’s succubus might not be what she’d rationally go for. You think if this was what Marcille had to choose, the person she wants most to see and at her side, her most alluring form wouldn't be Falin, alive and well? You think that wouldn't be the thing Laios truly wants most as well? And before people say that canon proved that the latter wasn't with the curse the winged lion put on him, THAT'S THE POINT!!!! You can irrationally desire things, you can desire things to degrees so deep you can’t change it even if you wish you could, but if it was truly a choice up to you, you'd choose otherwise. Laios decided to become king, even if that's a lifestyle so far from what he truly wanted, even if it is duty more than fun for him. Like how Chilchuck would choose faithfulness despite for sure having come into contact with many beauties through his four years of separation.

Ideals vs reality are a big Dunmeshi theme in general, same as wants vs needs, and you can see Marcille’s daydreams and novel themes make it an especially relevant throughline and theme for her. Not unlike how in my opinion General Hareus and Mithrun intentionally look very alike to contrast reality vs fantasy!

Marcille never reacts any particular way to Mithrun’s appearance despite the blatant resemblance, so that makes me think the point/joke is meta rather than character focused. The romanticization of elves and their societal drama in their fiction contrasting heavily with a very real and imperfect product of their military system. The canaries certainly aren’t glamorous next to whatever military Hareus is the general of. There’s even the fun little details like Hagreus’ lips being drawn with extra details because they’re full and pretty while Mithrun’s lips are drawn with extra details because they’re chapped and dehydrated. Hence the fantasy vs reality theme, both in that fantasies can be very disappointing when realized and in that they may not be what you actually want past your mind palace. Marcille doesn't even react to him- which we could almost directly parallel to how pretty young blondes is Chilchuck's type but he never seems to make a big deal of Marcille- he still wants his wife.

So yes, themes of what you actually want vs irrational cravings. Base desires vs actual wants. Needs are also separate, but not relevant for this discussion. To get to the specific definitions I’m using for the words in this section’s header, ideals vs wants vs desires: ideals are your ideal of something, the best degree to which a thing could be tailored to you, and it can be derived from both wants and desires, usually a mix of the two, but for example: I’d say the succubus is a type of ideal (the platonic ideal of allure to the victim) derived solely from desires, because a want is active rather than passive, acted upon rather than suffered, because a want unlike a desire involves thinking things through. So a want: something you want, you take actions towards getting or achieving it, it can be a very strong feeling but it’s something you pursue or wish to pursue. Finding a cure to death is a want, not wanting to be alone is a desire, see, I’m assigning desire this more primal or unchanging subconscious nature to it. On the flipside with Chilchuck, sex without ties, easy pleasure, is a desire, but the want is not having to think about his marriage situation because it’s painful, not wanting an emorional connection because it’s all the easier to be hurt with, just wanting to take his mind off of everything for a while.

Thus the succubus targets Marcille’s wish for a perfect knight who could cherish her forevermore, someone safe and known and fantastical, just hers in a way, free to see and construct however she wants because he’s a character to interpret, and it targets Chilchuck’s wish for pleasure that’ll whisk him away from the stress and pressure and reality of his life, something that’ll make him feel both good and desirable and emotionally uncompromised, not unlike what alcohol does, as he says he likes having his fine senses dulled in the changeling chapter. Idealization is twisting the image of something in your mind to be closer to what you want, but usually mostly desire on a more subconscious level, to be true, almost a wish, sometimes but not always hand in hand with idolization which is to put something on a pedestral. Idealizing things that are easier to reconcile with mostly, in Marcille’s case: it’s easier to believe that Chilchuck is very young and it’s easier to stomach that Falin hasn’t aged much, it's easier to believe Falin is an angel who can do no wrong and if she left with Laios it's not that she chose to leave Marcille, and it's easier to believe Chilchuck is just a moody closed off youngster than an embittered old man. It can be done to people as much as concepts, like the idea/plan to give everyone a 1000 years lifespan, surely that'd do really well and everyone would love it. Wants and desires are both very often about changing reality after all, wether it be your situation or an event in your past or a law of the world like death, but wants are mostly through actions and since desires are more subconscious it can lead to self-delusion easily. Like with succubi, wants engage with your rationality so they target desires instead. The demon's strategy isn't too far off, either, feeding into both and using underlying desires to manipulate its victims. Dungeon Meshi is in part yes about resisting desires, the irrational cravings, mostly through the character of the demon. I mentioned needs earlier, and to ideals vs wants we also add vs needs, both emotional and physical, and needs alongside wants are what Dungeon Meshi wishes to promote for a healthier person, Dungeon Meshi which illustrates very well with the dungeon lords that you can be a slave to your desires.

The parallel between succubi and demons is intentional. The demon is in fact the origin of the succubus myth in-world. No wonder they operate similarly in many ways- the succubi are in a way a more simple straightforward version of the demon, with less convoluted strategies and less intricate manipulation.

Of course the succubus each character sees does say something about their characters, but what I’m saying is we shouldn’t assign choice or morality to it as if it wasn’t an ethereal monster whose whole biology is focused on being able to freeze people through appealing to desires, much like how we can’t fault people for falling for demons’ manipulations. Like that’s their WHOLE thing and they use mind control through enticement shenanigans. I know people sometimes fault Chil for his succubi and if you want here’s my stance.

Point of this whole thing is, people can rationally choose things that are different from their deeper desires, like in truth Falin’s safety being more important to Laios than becoming a monster. Like how Marcille stayed with Chilchuck to strategize instead of wanting to give good faith to Kabru. Yes, this is the main point I'm coming at with this section lol. Marcille idealizes and idolizes the figure of a perfect prince charming, undoubtedly! But when it comes to what she actually wants, not in some ideal fantay world but in reality, she knows Chilchuck and her imperfect friends are some of the best she could ask for. She's content with them as they are. She would choose a flawed reality over a perfect fantasy.

That's a big part of what her dungeon lord arc is about too, all her tendencies to ignore what others want for what she thinks is best for them or thinks is a perfect course of action: accepting that people are complex with different wants, and that something that's a no-brainer to her like wanting to live for a long long time is a solid no for many. And Laios and the party confront her about it, and Marcille, even under the influence of a demon, chooses to accept reality. Chooses to accept that there are some things that, even were she to be able to, she shouldn’t change after all (even for stuff that’s not forcing everyone to live for a millenium, like bringing Falin back from the dead is something that the party and Marcille had to come to terms with maybe not working and the way they went about it was self-centered). She chooses to come back to herself and the party, to accept the world as it is even if flawed and sometimes hurtful.

And hm, I wonder if Chilchuck had any role in the lead up to that particular decision... I wonder if Chilchuck was a major influence in teaching Marcille that the world isn't perfect and her internalizing things that were outside of her bubble!! I wonder if Chilchuck was directly what made Macille turn towards her party and thus start thinking of giving up on being dungeon lord!! Joking, joking, of course it does. To be continued, see you in the princess imagery section at the end of this essay.

Essentially, this section is to show that: 1) despite what her succubus may suggest, she has indeed grown by that point in the manga compared to pre-canon and her overly idealistic simple black and white vision of things, and it doesn't prove the ‘choosing her friends over a prince thing’ wrong, and 2) despite how deeply ingrained romanticism is in her and how it calls out to her, she still has chosen and continues to choose reality and her friends over it. How fantasy is important to her and how much she loves it, and her having the will not to mindlessly succumb to it coexist and it's that resistance against fantastical ideals that speaks of her as a character so much.

And what does that mean, for Chilchuck? For him and Marcille?

Deconstructing realistic romance AKA compromising between romanticism and reality AKA Chilchuck Tims vs Prince Charming part 2

So what we’ve covered so far is that 1: idealization is something that Marcille does a lot, including concerning Chilchuck, 2: the prince/knight figure is meaningful & important to her, 3: Marcille isn’t a lost cause on it, and for instance, much like how she stops harping on Namari after Chilchuck explains to her how professional reputations and networking work, he can change her mind on things.

Let’s get back to their prejudices of each other for a bit. You might have to zoom in for this one.

Her shapeshifters of both Chil and Laios are influenced a lot by looks and impressions. She’s very adamant about Laios and Falin not looking alike at all, for one. Marcille’s view of Chilchuck’s lockpicks are surprisingly accurate. Meanwhile, despite their first big relationship moment during canon being about how he’s glad to have her and her skills for the dungeon dive, he still ridiculizes her magic somewhat with the crude spellbook. She’s still silly and tease-worthy to him, even while he praises her like in the good medicine chapter with Leed he says it himself in the same breath. Silly, or "ridiculous" depending on the translation, is somewhat ambiguous, but I assign it the meaning of 'thoughtlessly reckless', like how again in the good medicine chapter when he's saying this he's referring to Marcille's future job prospects, because law and career are important to conform to for him. Despite this, their shapeshifters’ behaviors are accurate, although Marcille’s Chilchuck is nicer and less bitterly reclusive. Note how it's Marcille's chilchuck that makes it furthest and how why she thinks hers is the true one is that her Chilchuck "looks less mean"- this is what I mean when I say she idealizes him and sees him as a little angel, along with his fluffier hair it gives us the perspective of why she'd find him so hair-ruffable and why she likes sticking to him so much, I suppose.

Marcille's arc of not seeing Chilchuck for what he is has steps, it's not like Senshi who does an 180 seeing his changeling. There are a couple of important moments for it that tell us her progress and changes her perspective: Him telling his age -> the shapeshifters (our best look into an objective assessment of her perspective) -> reveal that he has a wife and kid(s) (fully shattering her denial) -> seeing him as a changeling (true reckoning. Putting the nail in the coffin of what reality is) -> bicorn chapter (acceptance. Internalization)

You might notice that the explanation for Marcille’s Chilchuck is "Even though she’s been told he’s an adult, deep in her heart she still doesn’t get it", and a fantranslation translates it as "Understands he’s supposed to be an adult, but hasn’t quite come to grips with the fact internally". This definitely implies her arc of growing to see him as an adult had already started by then. Especially if we compare it to Senshi’s more intense babyfied Chilchuck. This goes back to what I was saying about Marcille watering down people for the sake of aesthetics, some rational part of her knows he’s an adult, but it’s emotionally that she struggles to reconcile the fact with her perspective. It’s actually pretty ambiguous when she first starts considering he might be an adult. If by this point she was already digesting it, then I think it must’ve been when he told the party his age. It’s not unsimilar to rationally knowing Falin is an adult at 23 even if it doesn’t feel like it to her, or post-canon calling the Touden parents kids even though obviously she’d know they aren’t actually, it’s classic longlived race patronization. He’s older than Falin, by 6 whole years, and even Marcille isn’t that blind to what that'd mean. Wouldn't marcille also have a problem with child labor otherwise? There's also how Marcille pre-canon shortly speculated Chilchuck was in love with Namari in her Adventurer's Bible extra. She for sure has witnessed a lot of half-foots walking around, probably even drinking at taverns. She knows, on some level. Chilchuck even does a whole rant after they react going on "this is why long lived races are condescending assholes". So that’s my bet, "Is he an adult?" "Well yes but actually no" (Chilchuck), "I’m an adult now I’ve grown" "Awww you’ll always be like a kid to me!" (Falin) Depending on the dub and interpretation, I know for example that when I made my family watch the anime they thought Marcille "See? You're just a kid!" after he said he was 29 they saw it as teasing and playful, unserious, or even disappointed, implying she'd have thought he was older than 29. It's actually ironic how someone as developmentally atypical as Marcille, whose physical and mental growth was unpredictable, unsynchronized and messy, would judge others by appearance and age so much. But well imo appearances are important to her so in that way, she especially judges those because she had to live through being judged by those standards as well. She puts elven standards on everyone the same way she does with beauty standards, so age is included in that.

Marcille here is struggling with dissonance, it's why she "hasn't come to grips with the fact internally". And this all makes sense for the arc that sharing things about himself is what opened the gates of being understood better. Point is, her vision is influenced by her own feelings of how things should be like, veiling herself to the reality of things.

And notice the point that the problem her lack of rationale when it comes people- Chilchuck regularly makes her prioritize rationality over feelings, and well that’s somewhat his whole schtick when it comes to debating philosophy. With Namari and how her leaving the party and not returning is reasonable even if it feels wrong, just like the "don’t trust someone just because they seem well-meaning and generous, strategize instead of swooning", and ironically also the "it's important to take in mind how things like touch when healing can affect parties and create love triangles" lol, "don't be emotional, and also remember people being emotional will stirr up shit". Since she’s someone pretty swayed by feelings, it balances her out. Ultimately, if we consider the Dungeon Lord arc her culmination, it’s Chilchuck who ends her arc by meeting her halfway through appealing out to her feelings, but that’s the flipside of the coin of their arc, and it’s her willpower to face reality that saves them so I don’t think that contradicts that Marcille had to do her half of the journey & comprise.

I would argue there are many hints of Marcille knowing on some level he's an adult throughout early canon. Not just seriously calling him the most mature of the group, but her behavior at the Golden Kingdom's too for example. Would you act all shy asking a kid to sleep in his bed, especially one she's always felt so comfortable trampling the boundaries of and touching casually? Idk that's weird. She's asking to sleep in his bed because by her own admition it'd make her feel more comfortable. Chilchuck is safe to her and she feels shy implying it and asking for a favor like that. Shy that he'd find her silly for it, and/or shy that this might be inappropriate according to etiquette and in other contexts. To me this feels much closer to two peers, like how in the mandrake chapter she wanted validation from him too, and yes she still infantilizes him and emasculates him into someone who's harmless in her mind- not just someone who wouldn't hurt or take advantage of her, because she knows that, because Chilchuck does protect her (more on that later!!).

He's not heroic, but he's brave, when it matters. He's mean and rude, but also caring. He's responsible, even when it means going the unpleasant route. The aesthetic doesn’t fit the role, but the actions do.

He keeps claiming he’s a selfish coward who’ll be the first to dip in a fight, and yet he’s always, consistently pulling her out of danger, or specifically calling out to Marcille when danger strikes. And I think it’s because of the nugget of info we get in the adventurer’s bible that her stamina and athletics are bad, in canon he does call her clumsyhead like once but it never felt enough for me to deduce that on its own personally. So then the reason why he’s always targeting her, beyond the reasoning that she’s the healer thus the most important to keep alive (which he brings up in the rabbits chapter), he takes it upon himself to help her, save her and pull her away from danger because she’s clumsy. She’s not defenseless, she’s known to use explosions, and still he feels the need to save her and through the manga he’s even died trying to pull her to safety one and a half times: dungeon rabbits + the drowning- they didn’t die in the latter though it’d have gone that way if it weren’t for the water bursting out just after, and that situation was especially hopeless regarding Chikchuck being able to do anything to save her at all, yet he still tried.

A little knight in shining armor, a little noble hero, a little prince charming innit?

Chilchuck IS all show and no talk- and she knows the value of that!!! It's why despite all his sour demeanor she respects him both professionally and as a smart guy she can trust, why she feels safe with him and wants him by her side when strategizing or even sleeping. The aesthetic doesn’t fit the role, but the actions do. Fantasy vs reality!!! He teaches her how to face reality both with his words and actions, through the contradictions of him, his caring behavior and bitter words, his old manners and young looks!

And actually let's TALK about that drowning scene hello. There, in the collage above, in the bottom left. The context of that is: This is after the demon leaves when the dungeon collapses, the dungeon gets flooded by water and they go under, with no sense of where or how there could be an exit to this. 1: Since the dungeon is collapsing and reviving someone only works in dungeons, there is no guarantee that Marcille or anyone would be able to revive someone during or after this, NONE. 2: He is risking his life for her, he is STRAIGHT UP playing his life on this choice, action hits and shit gets more serious than it ever has, and he yet does it anyways. Perhaps it's the gravity of it that pushes him to make this choice, that this time if someone dies it's for real and he can't accept that, but either way his choice is made in a split second, he prefers dying trying to save her than living without saving her. He is fighting for scraps of hope, seconds more of holding onto life. Which, 3: This situation is HOPELESS. In the end yes they end up being spat out by some exit out the dungeon with the strenght of the flood, but there was no way to know this would happen, and like we see in the third panel Chilchuck and the others actually lose consciousness. That's for "a way out of this", but even moreso, what is he hoping to accomplish? He's small and weak like he always reminded the party in fights, he CANNOT PULL HER UP TO SAFETY, HE CANNOT PULL HER AT ALL, WE SEE HIM STRUGGLE TO AND FAIL. HE CAN'T DO ANYTHING BUT HE STILL TRIES DESPITE THE RISK. You might also say- haha!! You might also say that this is a show of optimism from him!! You could say that after Marcille changed him, pushed him to have more hope in him, he now has the strenght and will to hope that this might do anything, that this might save her! A little similar to the situation with his wife actually, the point is that the chance is worth taking even if it might not turn out like hoped for- the point is that it's always worth trying and keeping hope to fight on, there is risk in being vulnerable and reaching out to his wife yes, there is risk, as with jobs, as with finances, as with anything- It's not that you'll never fail, but you have to not give up when you do- there's a risk but you can't just shut yourself off to the world and to relationships, you can't suddenly care about nothing! That's Chilchuck's arc! And maybe it's because his arc of becoming more hopeful and open yourself to caring centers her that it's her he latches onto here and not Senshi and Izutsumi who are equally in trouble here, maybe it's because he knew her longest or because he still feels this sense he has to look out for her like always, or because he trusts her to breathe underwater least, I don't know, but it's what happens! And listen, by all intent and purposes it was a hopeless situation, they were on the verge of drowning but he still fights to save her, and everything looks lost for a sec, but then the water current miracurously spits them out of the crumbling dungeon. He gets up and he runs to marcille fearing she's hurt but no, they're saved, she's fine, they're all alive and out of danger. It worked out. Having hope was right.

They make me ill I tell you. Like what the HELL, am I supposed to NOT go crazy when this happens??! What if they were the meaning of life what if their arc was about cracking the balance of living and loving healthily and cracking the code of life. Okay. Okay okay okay so anyways so

He can be quite self-sacrificial and noble! Always looking out for others, and giving Marcille particular attention in that regard, likely in part due to her being clumsy in his eyes and her being the healer aka their token of safety.

Sit your ass back DOWN you are in no state sir. Despite her biases Marcille is still observant, she still loves dissecting people like in that pre-canon party relationships chart in her extra, she's still the one to say "Chilchuck is the most mature here". Marcille still notices things! She has an interest in people and Chilchuck is someone she especially likes to "study". She read him like a book in the bicorn chapter, and if she was able to it’s that she looked, she remembered, she saw. The way he doesn’t like waiting on people, that he’s very reserved with feelings, the way he often doesn't pick up on others' and even his own- It all comes through in her quote unquote analysis of him, what married life with him would be like and how he reacted to his wife leaving.

Point is, Chilchuck is very harsh on himself, but there are gems inside of him, there is gold hidden away if you dig at his heart. And point is, Marcille is good at highlighting those. And besides, isn’t humility a mark of heroes?

Okay. Sooo there's not that much to say about the changeling scene actually, for both Senshi and Marcille, the chapter just previous where Chilchuck reveals he has a wife and kid is what fully reckons them with how Chilchuck is a fully fledged adult, and for both of them seeing Chilchuck as a tallman is the final nail in the coffin. With Senshi it's a rather fast 180, and he mourns the sweet kid image he had of him where he poked his cheek and ruffled his hair, but for Marcille it's just an extra "he's really really REALLY really not a kid. Really". It has a bit of a reversal of Marcille and Chilchuck's dynamic, since now he can manhandle her instead of her manhandling him. This is a rather pleasant experience for him from what we can tell, whereas Marcille is struggling to keep the party's walking pace and complains about the heat implying half-foots are more sensitive to temperatures, Chilchuck finds having his senses dulled relaxing, has no problem of the sort Marcille is having AND! And! He can pull her around. The fight with gargoyles happen and he's pulling her arms, picking her up, he even throws her both before it and during the fight, he has the physical power to push her away if he wants to and also to pull her out of danger- the way he later tries to in the rabbit chapters and with drowning, but also when the Faligon reveal happens. He still doesn't look like a knight in shining armor, and he still doesn't have the demeanor of one, but he has the most power to protect her than he ever has. Anyways so yes, further "oh Chilchuck is an adult. And he's kinda knightly and can protect me wow. And also ugly not at all like elven beauty ewwwwww. I won't be able to unsee it now if I try to ruffle his hair after this".

It’s always a question of seeing more facets to someone and slowly digesting them and internalizing them, like Kui puts it herself in the shapeshifter explanation for Marcille's Chilchuck. And this illustrates a bit what I was saying in the section about Dalclan and tropes and people being "digestible" to her. She has to get used to the idea first and it's a slow process.

And during the succubus chapter as well, right after the bicorn chapter where she fully accepted Chilchuck as an adult, Marcille doesn’t falter when she’s confronted with seeing Chilchuck as, for a lack of a better term, a sexual being. She even cracks a (albeit sfw) playful quip about it, about them being all blondes. I suppose with the crass jokes he made like during the frog comic that might have prepped her for it lol.

And on that topic... We're here guys. The holy grail of Marcille and Chilchuck.

🔥The bicorn chapter🔥

The chapter finishes both Marcille and Chilchuck's arcs about harmful idealization vs not being a doomer, so to speak. It's the culmination, the ultimate balance found, the moment where the lesson gets fully internalized on both sides at the same time. It is a MASTERCLASS in how to do relationships arcs and character studies.

Chilchuck starts the chapter being dismissive of Marcille and her interests again, it opens with a narrated bit about his bad experiences with romance in past parties and he admits he has contempt for people who find the topic of love fun. He sees her still a bit as both a fly circling around him and a venus fly trap waiting for the opportunity to pounce on him and not let go until he spills everything. He ends it though, willingly giving up information on him in conversation with her, opening up, and appreciating her perspective on his romantic troubles.

Marcille starts the chapter having mostly processed that he's an adult, asking him about his wife, but she's still Weird about him and his personal life- and okay, that doesn't quite change, but something does change- everything changes for a moment, in fact.

And what's the catalyst? The cataclysm, even? Chilchuck lies and says he cheated on his wife.

[Okay guys I am officially out of pic space, sorry but I'll have to start recurringly linking to images instead: page]

We get to see live Marcille's esteem for Chilchuck plummet and freefall to the ground. And Chilchuck often acts like hassling and teasing between them is onesided, that she's always the one harassing him, but since early manga Chilchuck has always liked to tease her every opportunity he gets, often initiating interaction just for it... During half of this chapter Marcille is giving him the cold shoulder and we get to see that he misses her, we get to see her fully shut down the (racist) joke he throws at her and see him be SHAKEN over it. He wasn't expecting his lie to tank his reputation and relationship with the party members this much, maybe because before whenever he called himself selfish and cowardly no one seemed to think less of him for it, and he's at a loss for what to do like we see here. He misses their friendship. He's always said he didn't care for having a friendship with them all and whatnot, but here we see him grapple of the aftermath, of knowing what it would be like without them as friends, without them at all.

[page 1, page 2.]

And like with his wife, he has a choice to make. Be passive and spiteful and do nothing, or be vulnerable and communicate to win them back over. And this time, after a manga's length of learning little by little to be more open (and literal coercive torture) he chooses to do it, to try and clear up the misunderstanding.

And listen, on Marcille's end this was NEEDED. He DROPS in her eyes to deserving no respect- but even in these times we see her be jealous of Chilchuck opening up to Senshi, implicitly still caring about what he thinks of her, and most importantly that she does still care about him himself when the bicorn breaks his arm and she runs to his side to heal him, worried. Why was this needed? Because Marcille was forced to have her full, complete vision of Chilchuck shattered. Not only is Chilchuck not little in her eyes anymore, but he's also no angel. He can MASSIVELY- borderline unforgivably- mess up. He is an adult who can royally fuck up, even be immoral. She calls him a depraved adult man.

It sounds negative, but what this does is actually strip him from any idealization and infantilization in her eyes. Is there something more adult than adultery? Is there something less honorable, less wholesome? In this chapter Marcille is forced to reconcile the Chilchuck she knows with this man who did something vile to his wife, even the mother of his child.

And then Chilchuck clears things up, he takes the risk of an argument and actual rejection and sacrifices the secrecy around his family situation to make up with her. And it works. Instantly.

And so he goes "Okay so one day she left me and I have no idea why, probably for no reason. The end. What a petty thing to do am I right. We'll probably never talk again." and she's like "Bet? Actually I have several ideas as to what could have happened and you WILL listen."

(For a Chil & Chilwife analysis go over here instead btw.)

She was always perceptive, but she always had a bias that made her vision of others flawed. Her lens of novel worlds and narratives. Remove, or at least shift that bias in a productive direction, and you get a strength rather than an hindrance. The skill of self-inserting (literally. The half-foot depicted as his wife is even literally Marcille a a half-foot, and his child looks just like him, to show just how good her imagination is lmaoo) Marcille is such the "If I wanna hit the ball… I must become the ball" type. As proven by how she controlled her familiars in the hypogriff chapter. "If I were your wife I’d be overjoyed to go out with you and would get myself prettied up while you complain about me taking a long time, your friends would tell me that I’m cute and nice and that’d make me happy, but I’d also be sad because you wouldn’t tell me that you love me enough. Then I'd leave to test your love, and you're failing that test rn but if you came back to me even after a long time I'd take you back for sure." And see these! See Chilchuck frowning there in how she thinks of him, how he gets peeved when she takes time to get ready.

No because, this means everything. Marcille started out the manga thinking he was just a kid with a party pooper attitude and even in the shapeshifter chapter where she’s more coming to terms with her having been wrong about him, her shapeshifter of him is sweet and cute and nicer like "No the REAL Chilchuck is much less nasty! ☺️". But in the bicorn chapter it all comes to a head!! Learning that "Chilchuck cheated on his wife" made her esteem of him tank to rock bottom almost, finally acknowledging that Chilchuck can both make adult mistakes and be significantly flawed. But then! The chapter ends by him opening up which in turn make her esteem of him comes back up, but things have changed, still. What she does with her "virtuous husband" bit might seem like idealization again, and she is being optimistic about the wife'smotives, but she’s not making him into something he’s not! She recognizes his flaws (embraces them even.) Like how as the wife she thinks of an angry/frowning chilchuck, how he complains about waiting on her, which he's also done to Marcille before...

Even the way she says "he wouldn't say that he loves me enough" IS DIRECTLY SOMETHING FROM HER OWN EXPERIENCE FROM THE MANDRAKE CHAPTER. Because then she wanted to hear from his mouth with his words that he does value her, that he does appreciate her, that she's not a burden to them! She knows how it can feel like he doesn't appreciate you even when he does, and how insecure it can make someone! Now when she flavors things, she takes the embellishments from her own experiences instead of from novels! Reality, too, can be romanticized without becoming pure fantasy. Fantasy doesn't have to be dry and bitter, it can be beautiful and fun, too. Her "if I was your wife, life would be something like this and I'd feel like this" is truly based on her own perspective and feelings- her empathy and interest in others is not a weakness like Chilchuck thought, it's borderline a superpower.

She doesn't just keep his flaws in mind, she also hypes up his qualities!! He is virtuous, bicorn approved, devoted even after separation!! And that hyping up, and optimism that things wouldn’t necessarily go bad if he tried to mend things with his wife, really gave him hope, and also finished up his arc about optimism not always being bad, sometimes even being necessary.

She inspires him to think that things can work out, that he can still be pleasantly surprised even with all his bitterness. After all, he opened up to Marcille and they talked just now, and she forgave him and they made up, didn't they?

And he must have never quite let go of all hope, must stil lhave some left in him hidden somewhere, because in all those four years of separation never has he stopped calling her his wife in present tense, because even after all of them he has stayed faithful and never moved on.

And all of this with the chapter ending with Chilchuck eating a sweet and savory sandwich, which he thought would be bad and inspired disgust in him at first, and being like "Huh, the sweetness actually complements the bitterness pretty well."

THE SANDWICH IS THEM. "Syrup in a sandwich? Sweetness has nothing to do in a meal." IT'S OPTIMISM AND PESSIMISM COEXISTING. IT'S SWEETNESS AND BITTERNESS BOTH HAVING THEIR PLACE IN A DISH. IT'S MARCILLE AND CHILCHUCK COMING TOGETHER TO HAVE THE RIGHT BALANCE FOR HIM TO BE ABLE TO SAY "It might not go well like in stories, but I'll still try".

Remember what i said about compromises earlier, balance of optimism and pessimism? He tries it, and it works out despite having no faith that it’ll be good, and he’s pleasantly surprised. SURPRISES CAN BE PLEASANT! They're not just life-shattering, not just dangerous, it is possible to be pleasantly surprised! And this is why Kui is a goddess of telling stories through food.

He’s opening up to her, as he takes that last bite of the sandwich, he willingly and easily gives up an information about his family for the first time <3

And this isn't only chilchuck adopting her perspective either, it's him completing it. Marcille still simplified the conflict between him and his wife, still couldn't have the whole picture, still put a positive and hopeful and romantic twist on it all, but she did have a point. Chilchuck reaches her halfway, is inspired by her, but he also complements her, says okay, but also this, also it might not go as well as that, not going against it but building on top of it, not trying to replace it but instead this optimism and cynicism coexisting, joining together. Marcille brings him back to the reality that he doesn't suck as much as he thinks and things aren't doomed, but he also brings her back to the reality that that may not be enough, and in that uncertainty called life they're learning to be okay with it, to smile about it, to want to be part of it, hearts open.

Notice how she defends his virtues directly taking from Daltian Clan for her reasoning, as well! Comparing chilchuck to her novel characters to explain him, rather than overwrite him.

She’s such a wingwoman. Such a cheerleader. Couple therapist. Emotional support friend. 10/10.

Marcille: "he has a shitty personality sometimes but if he was my husband I’d still cherish him" Chilchuck: "damn I needed that" /hj

So this neatly ties the last bits of Chilchuck's reluctance to care about others and being cared about in turn, yes yes Marcille reads him like a book so well that he's left shaking, and this is it, really, their arc is about the balance in loving too much and loving too little, in stifling others with that love and care and interest the way Marcille does vs showing it so little that others don't even know if he cares at all, à la “if we want the rewards of being loved, we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.”

Marcille has a whole theme with the prince charming trope, with her idealization and storybook motif and this is sort of the "Well someone perfect like that isn’t very realistic and romance is usually more complex- and that’s ok and good, and flawed people can still be ✨virtuous✨" conclusion. Again, fantasy doesn't have to be perfect to be worth it, to be valuable and lovable and great and precious.

He’s the devoted virtuous man that she wants not the storybook prince that’s unrealistic and could crumble like a script at any time. He’s the perfect example of a flawed realistic but virtuous and devoted and loving family man. Far, far from a prince charming, but not fully detached from it either. Something worth fighting for despite the flawed cracks.

Marcille has this grand fantasy, this ideal of prince charming, a chivalrous gentleman knight, but through canon especially with Chilchuck she learns to not idealize people so much. That acts are more important than aesthetics. The bicorn chapter is all about Chilchuck’s romance being realistic: flawed. And it’s no coincidence that this is what ties their interwoven arc closed, because they learn to compromise, his pessimism and her optimism. Marcille sees and recognizes a romance that is both flawed and beautiful and is able to balance the two decently, meanwhile she convinces Chilchuck that yes it is worth fighting for and having hope for. Repeating myself but it’s easy to think she’s still idealizing Chilchuck during the bicorn chapter, BUT it’s important to notice the differences with the shapeshifter chapter, where her shapeshifter of him was "cute/sweet" "not nasty", an angel who could do no wrong. In the bicorn chapter, not only does he fall from her esteem a lot because she believes he cheated for a good part of it, thus acknowledging that he can be flawed and adult enough to commit adultery, but also! When she roleplays as his wife, she doesn’t erase his flaws!! She knows he has a short fuse and isn’t always pleasant, but believes that he’s worth loving anyways… 

And see this is the point!! She romanticizes his life, not idealizes it. The difference may be subtle, but it's there. In romanticization there's how Ghibli depicts mundane scenes of daily life, portrays doing chores like cleaning clothes as something that feels good, something worth doing that doesn't have to be miserable. In Chilchuck's life, in his flawed relationship with his wife, she sees the beauty and light and love to highlight so even if the lifestyle is humble and even if the relationship is tense it seems nice, it seems worth fighting for. She's using aesthetics again, but to inspire instead of stifle, the way she uses them to hype herself up sometimes too.

This is it this is the thing! Her worshipping and idealizing the image of perfect prince charming that will whisk you away on an ethereal romance becomes her romanticizing a realistic flawed middle aged dad with personality issues and a failing marriage, that he still is worthy of love and having his cute grand romance story and his happy ending!!

Marcille has a very hard time conceptualizing a point where love can’t conquer all, right. She’s optimistic and if there’s a will there’s a way etc etc etc. Notably when Marcille speculated about Chil’s wife, she centered around the theory that his wife wanted to "test" him by leaving, that she didn’t feel loved and left to see if he’d chase after her. She believes that his wife would be ecstatic to see him again and reaching out would make them reconcile and happily get back together, no problem. Chilchuck and his wife have been separated for 4 years. When Falin left the academy she and Marcille were separated for 4 years. Marcille has to believe Chil’s wife is waiting for him, that she hasn’t moved on, that she wants to be found. There's a different perspective on time, but there's also... Just parallels. Parallels everywhere. Miss coping, meet coping in an opposite way! And so she teaches Chilchuck to not assume everything is lost before having even tried, and so he teaches Marcille to let go when it's needed.

And please notice how she doesn't even really think his wife may have just wanted to leave him, no the goal was for them to be reunited with their love strenghtened- Combined with her glazing Chilchuck, the underlying energy is that to her someone not wanting to be with Chilchuck, wanting to break off things with him and leave, is unthinkable. For sure she'll be overjoyed to see you, for sure she's just waiting for you to come back to her! Is there a sign of higher faith in him, of higher fondness? There's respect and like and loyalty there. She truly values Chilchuck, always has but it keeps only getting more and more cemented, more and more real the more he opens up and she gets to know him. It's embarrassing for people to know your wife left you? Think again! You've just gained 50 friendship points with your trendiest friend and she has categorized you as a catch!

She specifically loves characters who think they can’t be loved and pessimistic and dramatic… And story-fying him is literally what she does when she engages with the story of his breakup with his wife like it’s a story to decode, reinforcing the whole narrative about tropes and princes and how he comes to shape her view on them.

Even if the context here is explicitly that she relates! Which, she finds being able to relate to them comforting and a positive point so it being a "type" thing isn’t fully off- but this is what I mean when I say she always keeps a film of emotional distance from people, she wants to love and be loved and know people on the deepest level possible so bad but it’s something that scares her too so she prefers to chase after the safe: the unreachable- the fictional. Like Chilchuck. Bit of tangential speculation, but she wants to crack his shell and make him open up- but it’s also easier because he pulls away instead of pulling in/closer so the relationship is fully in her control in that way, if it weren’t for the teasing… Making her into someone silly in his mind is how he keeps himself from putting weight into her words, how he gets himself to automatically dismiss the wise lessons she tries to instill to him, nope sir he doesn't have anything left to learn, he's an old crouton who understands everything there is to know about this cruel cruel life yes sir. Because trying and being rejected hurts! Because if it wasn't fated to turn out wrong, then it means there was luck or choice, and that makes failures almost more painful! But people leave!! People leave and people come back and new meetings happen and choices are good, choices shouldn't be taken away! Not like how Marcille tries to forcefeed immortality to humanity, as a dungeon lord...

The chapter ends with a panel of Marcille and Chilchuck bantering again, with everyone else going about their business seeming nonplussed while the two are being very loud as if to say, ah, classic them. Return to normalcy, return to their usual closeness and shenanigans. All is well.

The Princess imagery

And now we’re falling into the rabbithole. Imagery doesn’t have to be anything more than imagery, but I discuss romantic connotations in this section (amongst the platonic reality of things ofc), you can skip to the conclusion if you’d rather but you will miss important analysis of the dungeon lord balcony scene, a big piece of the puzzle in wrapping it all up. I found the meaning of life & the world in marchil but it’s ok I get it if you wouldn’t... We're all built different ig. The character with princely chilvalrous knight parallels in the manga is moreso Laios, but Laios too breaks the trope a lot. Chilchuck gets prince and knight parallels but by contrast instead, in subtext more than any explicitly drawn. There's a lot to Marcille's princess imagery and though I've never fully covered it I try to somewhat tackle it here.

For as much as the bicorn chapter is what ends their arc about balancing pessimism and optimism and finding healthy compromises, the arc of their RELATIONSHIP is in the dungeon lord chapter where he fully opens up to her, inviting her to meet his family and all. AND MY GOD, the princess imagery!!

Listen I am trying so hard to keep this unromantic, and to be clear subtext is subtext for a reason, it doesn’t have to be concreticized or "acted upon" perse, but… I think it’s there in this scene, at least a bit. I’ve spent a long time trying to pin down what was so charged in it, besides both of them blushing, despite him offering for her to meet his family, despite it calling out to a genuine deep instilled desire in her heart enough for it to work- for it to make her turn towards them, despite the first thing she does after is shower him in romantic gifts, and it eventually struck me… It’s the parallels with other media, with tropes!! This is HIGHKEY Romeo and Juliet type shit!!! The stuff you see in every couple new kinda trashy romance kids movies! A lady, stashed away in a high tower by her lonesome, waiting for someone to call out to her from below… Romeo courting type shit with a heartfelt spiel implicit confession from underneath her balcony, offering him flowers because he succeeded in calling out to her heart…….. And they have to CLIMB to her.

Remember her succubus' words? "Oh, princess... I can't believe you slipped away from the castle yet again... Honestly, what in the world shall we do with you...? Come, let us return." Again like with her succubus, she’s living through a storybook trope but with Chilchuck’s twist, more nuanced and realistic yet just as meaningful, even if it isn’t strictly OR at all romantic and if it’s more complicated and less glamorous. She’d have to peel the layers to get to the vulnerable truth of it, like anything else. I'm just gonna drop this here...

Doesn’t it sound like a proposal. One that’s both so storybook-like, and contrasted with such real yet unromantic and grounded words, all about the implications rather than in your face grand gestures "Don’t you want to meet my family?". They literally have an arc about the topic of romance and this is the climax/pinnacle of it like god?? I’m not saying this was all intentionally crafted to be romantic but it nonetheless exists in the subtext, ripe for analysis. Of course they talk about planning together his reconciliation wit hhis wife, but the same thing happens regardless, he fully lets her into his life.

And again there’s something to be said about how that is what makes her finally turn around! This is extremely meaningful not only to Chil but to Marcille, the enticing thing that finally hooks her, gets her to finally look down at them. An offer to meet a flawed man’s flawed family, to help him mend it and its issues. It isn’t through the filter of a book, or mere gossip to her, she knows this man and she wants to be involved in his life, to know him and his family herself, ready to meet them and form connections. The clumsy, imperfect reality of a friend telling her he’ll let her into the other spheres of his life even if that means she witnesses the embarrassing and the ugly. It’s vulnerability on both their ends, offered and received, a gambit that was worth taking, both in the moment to talk Marcille out of being dunlord and long term of letting her in to see the deeper sides of him, there are take backsies once someone knows something about you after all. SHE STOPS BEING A DUNGEON LORD IN GOOD PART BECAUSE HE TOLD HER HE'D LET HER INTO HIS LIFE. SAY IT WITH ME, A FLAWED REALITY IS WORTH IT MORE THAN STAYING IN FANTASY!!!! In denial of reality, both that Falin hasn't grown older, that everything can turn out perfectly, and that everything is lost and there's nothing Chilchuck can do to make his wife love him again or even make his party listen to him.

Chilchuck says this after he sees her materialize her parents as doppelgangers. And so he goes on to say- hey your family will never go back to how it was when you were young, my family will never be what it once was either, but we can both move on and make the best of what we have anyways, isn’t that what you taught me, there are more out there! I’m opening up myself to new relationships and friendships because of your pushes, and now I want you to do the same! Life goes on and there’s always more joy and connections to be had! Stop isolating yourself, dammit!

And the thing too with Marcille’s arc is that she can’t get what she wants. She can’t. She can’t get everyone to live forever if she doesn’t take others’ free will away, if she doesn’t make the world stop for her as she plays god with the laws of nature and the cycle of life. And everyone’s important to that arc obviously, Falin during the story is the main object of that fear, and it’s moreso her death that pushes her arc along but it’s still extremely influential, Laios is the main one who sees her insecurities and talks her down, Senshi’s always harping on ecosystems and laws of nature and how resurrections aren’t natural and is there to offer comfort and support, Izutsumi’s someone new Marcille gets to take care of and her farewell talk with her reveals a lot about how she’s grown, but seeing this it’s easy to see why Chilchuck is paired off so much with her on their respective arcs, right? The one who tells it harshly how it is even when the reality is unpleasant, who gives up quickly when it's about things turning good for him but who always pushes and fights on when it matters with the party, who challenges a rose tinted glasses perspective head on.

He looks nothing like a knight but he still acts like one. He’s nothing like a prince or a dashing romantic courting lover but still he gives her a novel worthy balcony heart to heart scene. He’s painfully real and raw but she does bring that twinkle of hope and romantization that makes the world feel more wonderful to him, but like she tells him, he’s virtuous and he should give things a shot because people see good in him too and not only the bad he always shittalks himself for, she’s not making it up, he always had that sparkle of knight and prince in him.

Like, giving someone a handkerchief is literally a romance trope associated with nobles and princes. And Chilchuck has offered Marcille his handkerchief at least twice! The second time in the cockatrice chapter as a bandage. He keeps it in his pouch, with his tools, like the most must-have to offer it Marcille at any moment, ha /j. Prince behavior <3 The neckband like a knight’s favour, a token from a loved one he cherishes above all and keeps on himself at all times... Which I'll remind in her Chilwife roleplay she directly theorizes she was the one to knit it for him! Beautiful story tropes shit.

He IS a prince figure instead that now it’s not about idealizing the grand and overt it’s about romanticizing the small things in real life!! About finding joy and beauty in things that seem normal or mundane and uplifting them to make the world feel kinder!!!!

And man this whole angle makes the "Don’t you want to meet my family?" "-gasp- I really do want to! -turns away from eldritch power and living in her demon-made dreamscape that can allow her to live in fantasy to instead go back to flawed reality with her friends-" all that more meaningful and striking. A fitting end to her arc, a fitting hook to get her to turn back towards her and tempt her to give up on being dungeon lord. It’s always been just asking things and anecdotes about him and his family, never talking about meeting them, but by having someone so "fated with doomed love" open up and reach out to her "fated to never love", she opens up too, is willing to take the risk that any relationship entails, the same one that he took by offering it, the same risk they’re both averse to and scared of, loss and rejection. By actually meeting his family she involves herself in the stories she creates. It makes them real. She’s finally involving herself intimately with others, despite the real threat of loss that she will have to experience, wether through time and death or rejection.

Marcille and Chil’s arc, man…….. See, this is why I’ve been tilling the fields of that analysis for months this is why I’m insane about them, not only is there so much to say but her relationship with Chil straight up deconstructs her perspective on the world as idealized and influenced by fiction and fantasy and optimism. Like, he’s at the core of that part of her arc and man!! Man.

And the way that this is the culmination of their arc together… Like the ‘Chil calling out to dunlord Marcille on the balcony has Romeo and Juliette romance novels imagery’ take is one thing but the ‘their arc is about growing to see beauty even in the non-idealized, in the flawed and in the real’... It makes it so so perfect if she were to lower her ideal from a perfect elven prince to a virtuous halfling man (which she does romanticize).

So she doesn’t want a prince, she doesn’t want a general, she just wants this guy she knows, this friend she trusts as reliable, who has good intentions even if wrapped in unpleasant demeanor, that’s all she needs to be content and well and feel safe. By the end, he might even have become something of a prince charming to her, won over with heroic acts and virtues.

After all- Remember when I said she wouldn't be able to be as touchy so lightheartedly as before with him? Well wrong, apparently! This parallel from chapter 23 just before the red dragon fight vs chapter 96 at the final feast confirms that her like of him and behavior with him was unconditional of him being a kid or an adult. Marcille is just Like That and that she just likes him. A good part of what reads as infantilization truly is just how she cares for people in general.

Conclusion

She’s afraid of change, so it's only fair that he would be perfect to teach her a thing or two. She had fantasies but he had experiences, both had bias. Their arc is about how bitterness isn't an efficient solution to hardships, about how assuming the worst from everything is a trap that doesn't reflect reality either, a trap people fall into just as much as rose tinted glasses.

Their arc is about how relationships need work and how it's worth the effort! You can overwater a plant but you can also neglect it, to find a balance between each's needs can be hard but is always important. Friendships just like romances shouldn't be taken for granted, and doing the extra steps of deepening your understanding of others and opening to them is rewarding.

Their arc says that love is a beautiful thing regardless of loss. Something both of them needed to remember. Life isn't like a novel. Sometimes an ending ISN'T satisfying, you don't get closure and it might not even be happy, but that doesn't mean nothing can end well, doesn't mean every farewell is bitter. Peace is worth both fighting for and making for yourself. You can't shut yourself off from the world because things sometimes hurt, there's more of life to live- won't you come meet my family? Won't you meet new people, won't I try to mend relationships that are dear to me? My family is flawed, but it's still worth meeting, still worth loving, still worth fighting for and keeping even with all its flaws, no? Elven storybooks don't feature half-foots, but they're worth spinning grand poetic and romantic tales for all the same. Life is bittersweet, and that's an acquired taste to have, but one good to be able to stomach as a whole.

There’s a lot of reasons why someone would love fictional characters but be afraid of love in reality, not unlike with Laios' and Chilchuck's own experiences love has a layer of danger and fear because it can hurt to love and it can hurt to be loved. People can leave you, and in Marcille that fear's mainly through death but for Chilchuck that’s through just… Leaving. Through giving Chilchuck optimism and hope, drive to keep going despite these realities, she’s also growing to be more comfortable with the thought of relationships ending and moving forward regardless. And I do think that was part of her arc of growing to accept that Falin might be dead dead, I think Chilchuck was a big part in that. Falin is the passive object of the arc but Chilchuck is the active actor pushing it along, in a way.

Because people can always leave, Falin will leave to travel the world, but she might come back- and that's okay. And that’s exactly the thing that the story wants Marcille to make peace with! Falin wants and needs to leave and Marcille needs to be content just taking what she can get, wether it be time with people or the boundaries they set with her. THE BOUNDARIES! THE BALANCING OF OPTIMISM AND PESSIMISM! IT'S CHILCHUCK'S DOING!! "The world isn’t all good, but you should be able to see the bright side of what you do get" is what she and Chilchuck learn. To learn that she can still enjoy when she is there, and still reach out to her and keep in touch through letters- to do what you can and to get what you can and to accept that as enough, for it to bring you the joy and peace it can. Don't push your expectations onto others, wether that's being overly intimate or overly judgemental, don't be too pushy but also don't be too afraid and not do anything at all.

In many ways even before, even on the regular Marcille was his gateway into being more lighthearted, always exchanging playful jabs, laughing at her. Teasing her because she teases him, lowering himself to her level until he looks back and realizes he’s having fun with it instead of just throwing jabs bc he’s the master of sarcasm TM.

Chilchuck smiling casually and softly, genuinely, when saying that things don’t work out sometimes, is just so powerful. From the man who always assumed the worst of everything, who always spoke of life and the world bitterly... By the end, while saying these things he’s smiling openly rather than smirking smugly. Carrying on with his go getter attitude with a touch more optimism in his heart. Now he's made his peace with life and sees the good in it, still.

It's all about... How flawed relationships with flawed people can still be made into somehing good and healthy that make the world brighter… How flawed relationships are still worth remembering and cherishing. Except the winged lion, there to represent abusive relationships you need to fucking DITCH.

Marcille and Chilchuck’s arc is about how in life sometimes books do close and end, but other ones can open and start, and to never give up on that. People’s lives, relationships, these things are temporary and inevitably end, but there’s meaning and joy in having been there for them, and focusing on the end and the pain and being pessimistic in it doesn’t keep anyone safe, not meaningfully. "It’s not all nice like in the stories. Sometimes, a book just ends." "And another opens."

Dungeon meshi promotes the important of balance for both a healthy body and a healthy mind, and optimism vs pessimism is one such case <3

MAYBE IT'S ALL COMPROMISES MAYBE IT'S ALL SWEET INBETWEENS. Maybe we'll take our vision of what we thought we could be and make something new together! DRINK IN MODERATION!!!!!! SEE LIFE LIKE FAIRYTALES IN MODERATION!!!!!!! THE RIGHT ATTITUDE LIES BETWEEN IDEALIZATION AND PESSIMISM

Disclaimer:

This was pretty messy but thank you so much for reading!!

Thank you to @/lyril for making the more complex collages!! Check out her blog!

To be clear! Does this arc exist in the text, the whole tropes and idealism vs pessimism thing, do they have tangible impact on each other as both characters and narrative devices? Yes. Is Marcille and Chilchuck the central piece of the story? No. Is Dungeon Meshi about this and how it all culminated into a cool Romeo and Juliette scene? Lol no. Chilchuck isn't the most important person to Marcille and her story nor is Marcille the one most important to Chilchuck. Just like the other major characters in the story, their dynamic and progressing relationship is a plotline/subplot amongst others, and the level of layers and subtext it possibly has doesn't erase any other part or subtext of the story. Arcs can coexist. Multi-layered relationships can coexist. Just a reminder that this is my own analysis and interpretation of canon.

Dungeon Meshi is about food and how it ties us to a life that’s worth living, about unity and trying to understand that which you do not, to not demonize that which is different or unknown, to connect with others even if it’s hard, even if it’s in unusual or undescribable unlabelable ways, and Marcille and Chilchuck’s relationship is certainly a pawn in these themes like every other relationship.

I’m having fun, but I don’t want anyone getting lost in the sauce. It's unfortunate that to many, acknowledging there's any merit to analyzing this subtext is equal to supporting a ship they dislike, but this isn't ship propaganda, this is analysis of canon text where I happen to see a more niche angle. You can disagree with an interpretation without saying that it's nonsensical.

Like I don’t wanna say I’m a marchil truther but if you define it as believing canon does have genuine and credible basis for it then yeah I guess I am. I feel insane everyone acts like they have no chemistry and no material and??? We exist on different planets I think Like I know I implied some romantic undertone but in canon it totally can start and end at two coworkers bonding and getting to know each other better and see each other’s perspective and it influencing them both for the better. No buts, you can totally do that. Although this plus the crumbs it drives me up a wall when people say they have no chemistry or ‘how come people see anything in this pairing?’ They’re literally a comedic duo? A comedic duo that interacts so so much that gets paired off in scenes, a thematic duo which is even acknowledged and reflected in the anime’s opening. He teases her 24/7 canonically because he finds her reactions fun/cute, the only person he teases on the regular, and she’s obsessed with knowing more about him and loves being touchy on top of it, plus reads him like a book because she files away every little thing about him in her memory, like if that isn’t a strong basis for a ship I think the bar has gone too high. I’m derailing but yeah just. Do you see all of this? They drive me insane, I feel like I’m reading the necronomicon when analyzing them, picking up on subliminal messages, I keep always seeing new threads. And it’s been my otp for like 2 years now, idk when they’ll stop having a grip on me but????? There’s just so much to dig into with them. There will never be another pair like them. Do you hear me there’ll never be another duo that hits all of these like this, do you see this insanity? They are my lifeblood and if i’m eating up anything them-related it’s because they’ve earned it so hard tbh. So yeah if I’m ever dramatic about marchil it’s because I have this 100k words novel narrative in my head and marchil is the meaning of life to me hope this clears it up

Which on that note idk what or when my next Marcille & Chilchuck analysis will be. I might very well make a bite sized, summarized version of this analysis because asking people to read all of this is kind of insane of me... And full disclosure I’m also very likely to edit points in or tweak bits every so often in this analysis because idk if I’ll ever stop thinking about it, and phrasing can improved. This has been in my drafts and outlined more than a year and I’m literally still adding extra points save me. I might also do a different angle on their arc because here yeah I mostly just dug at the prince trope angle, at ONE of many angles... Like one interesting thread in the manga is Marcille emotionally maturing and becoming more like her mother, on top of her regularly being a mom type friend the way she looks after Izutsumi and Falin, which could be interesting to pair with the fatherhood of Chil. Hmm. Anyways

And obviously do whatever you want, but this analysis and all is why I personally can’t stand the fanon that Chilchuck and Marcille have a father-daughter undertone. It goes against their arc together, which is explicitly, literally about her acknowledging him as a man, an adult, about coming to see each other truly as peers and her coming to validate him as an adult, then a father and husband from an outside perspective and a friend, and inversely him coming to not belittle her profession and philosophy. Their whole arc is about learning to see each other as an equal and equally value each other’s perspective and opinion. You could argue it’s also the arc that happens with Izutsumi, but honestly with her it’s a lot about Izutsumi learning to compromise and others instilling lessons to her onesidedly while learning to respect her perspective and boundaries, it’s not nearly as much of a reciprocal thing. Izutsumi needs to be heard, but she also needs people teaching her and guiding her. Imo it cheapens the arc, the whole point is that they’re just two people who grow to see each other as equals, that the Laios party is coworkers turned friends. Marcille doesn't need a new parental figure, she needs friends who'll keep her in check the same way she does them.

I do love the way that the manga avoids romance. For every romantic undertone there’s a platonic explanation that is just as compelling and especially to this degree it’s both rare and wonderful. I think that a lot of people need to learn that sometimes ambiguity is the point instead of something that needs to have a specific objective answer. Sometimes the intent is for something to be able to be read in different ways in itself, or that the complexity of the relationship is canonically something that cannot be put into a neat box. Which! Next analysis I'm very intent on making is gonna be about unlabeled relationships in Dunmeshi and queerness, see you there!

Fast and dirty TLDR

Marcille’s personality is very serious and direct. Due to this, she frequently gets into arguments with the master of sarcasm, Chilchuck. Chilchuck views Marcille as “the friend who cannot shut up”. He is often the practical foil to her more imaginative or idealistic views.

She actually thinks very highly of him! "He’s usually the most mature one of us" "he’s dependable, we’re counting on him" "No chilchuck is definitely virtuous", and at first it’s also through this twisted lense that he’s a kid, like she has to put people into boxes so they’re more digestible, tropes, in line with aesthetic, and at this stage it’s hard for her to see Chilchuck as being even able of wrongdoing really. And gradually that gets challenged when she sees that yeah, he’s an adult, and then BAM bicorn chapter- Because by then ok fine he’s an adult, but it hasn’t quite fully settled yet as we see in the shapeshifter chapter and she still has a warped view of him a bit, she has an accurate grasp on his behavior yet still sees him as a little angel. And then she "learns" he committed adultery. Her esteem for him hits rock bottom and she spends the chapter cold to him, she still cares and comes running when he’s hurt, but she’s set on mean mugging him, until it’s revealed that- He didn’t actually. Oh, actually he just has family angst. And she starts roleplaying and having her novel vision again BUT THIS TIME HER MIND VISION OF CHILCHUCK IS OVERTLY FLAWED. He’s angry and his wife left him, he’s *flawed*, but he’s still worth hyping up, still worth having his own romance story, still has a shot of winning back his beloved. She sees him for what he is, human and real and not a carefully scripted character that fits an aesthetic, and she thinks it’s still worthy of love and admiration, worth fighting for.

The prince charming figure has importance in Marcille and Chilchuck’s arc, where she romanticizes things to a sometimes worrying degree or idealize people into something more poetic, easy and digestible (like Chil being a kid, and then him being a virtuous ✨✨✨husband), and where she needs to learn to value aesthetics less and actual acts and facts more, be more grounded (like seeing people for what they are flaws and all, but seeing their virtues too, like accepting that people need money and not pulling through on principles of honor or unity shouldn’t get Namari shamed) and a part of that is accepting that Chilchuck is BOTH flawed and virtuous, a loving husband that still has shitty moods and fumbled his marriage so bad etc etc. So it’s like, her image of perfect prince charming that will whisk you away on an ethereal romance -> realistic flawed middle aged dad with personality issues and a failing marriage but who still is worthy of love and having his cute grand romance story and his happy ending.

Their arc together is literally learning to 1) see each other for how they are and not undermining their qualities and capacities etc etc while still not leaving flaws unchecked either and 2) opening up to people. Marcille LITERALLY makes Chil open his heart up to hope like idk man. What do you want from me. He’s literally the guy helping her through deconstructing novels and fantasy and rose tinted glasses and like. Deconstructing the prince charming figure into something more real but still a virtuous husband like KUI KUI STOOOOP STOP I’M ALREADY HOOKED I’M ALREADY-

[5-htagonist]

is it gay to make sure another mans history is passed on?

[jesperr-fahey]

hello dungeon meshi fandom i require your aid!! i've been reading the manga and LOVING it, and i really want to watch the anime, but i've got a problem- i'd prefer to watch the dub, but the website where i usually watch shows is sub only! does anyone know of a place where i could find the anime with the english dub option?

[malesexualizer]

ok ok i know I've been saying I'm gonna play explorers of sky next but im just

weh...

cause idk what to make my team for it (torn on shinx/riolu or eevee/riolu 😭) but also I havent played super mystery dungeon like at all so im gonna do a poll though I feel like i know what the answer will be hehe sooooo

I wanna give a disclaimer saying i have played all the games BUT super so! the only reason I didn't put blue rescue team or DX is cause I just beat original red rescue team so! I don't really need to play them rn!

[ambrosiagourmet]

I've seen pieces from this extra comic before, but never read the full thing until today. And holy shit does it hammer home just how much the story is about class.

Multiple times, when food comes up in this comic, it’s also in context of money:

I've seen this last panel on the right brought up before in context of like, dungeon meshi's relationship with fat and eating, but in the full context of the comic it really hits how much adventuring directly consumes bodies for money.

As much as this has been part of the story the whole time, showcased as early chapters 19 and 20...

It never fully hit me before how often adventuring comes down to having no other way to make money but to throw yourself into death repeatedly. To be used, whether it’s by individual selfish people (like the resurrection group that is happy to try and get Kabru's group to kill each other to get extra gold from them in chapter 32), or by the greater cog of the Dungeon Economy in general.

Which, to be clear, is all too often how things work in the real world, too. So many jobs burn through the health and lives of workers. Dungeon Meshi just makes it literal in a new way: by making the healing and resurrection, a core part to the adventuring loop, directly use fat, muscle, and energy from the body being healed.

Imagine Amazon, but if you got injured at work, they could literally burn up some of your body to get you back to working sooner. And that was seen as an advantage of the job.

And then you have Laios, thinking about eating monsters:

Not just because he likes monsters a lot. But because it would help. He says something similar in the actual manga too, during the chapter discussing his dream with the Winged Lion

Laios wants to be able to make a home for Falin. He wants to give her a place where she never has to eat alone. And when he gets a party, he wants to give them a way to eat well. And when he runs a country, well…

He wants to ensure that everyone has enough to eat.

Food is political. Food ties into class, and money. What is deemed "proper" to eat, what is a luxury, what is crass… so much of it comes down to money.

Being judged for eating what's available, when what is “proper” isn't affordable, is already a thing that happens. People forced into work that consumes their energy is already a thing that happens.

Dungeon Meshi has a lot of fantastical elements, but boy is its examination of food and class very real.

[kjhbsies]

Undeniably and Secretly Yours

navigation | main masterlist | rules

James Potter x Slytherin!reader

synopsis: James Potter is in a secret relationship with Y/N, but things spiral when someone mistakes Regulus Black for Y/N’s boyfriend and spreads the rumor around Hogwarts. How far will he go before he can’t take it anymore?

wordcount: 1,663

note: 16+ fluff. will probably do one last part. comment if you want to be tagged <3

part I. part III.

Regulus Black was cornered, and he absolutely hated it.

Literally— his back was pressed against the cold stone wall near the dungeons, arms crossed as he glared at the four boys in front of him: Sirius, Remus, Peter, and... James, who was staring at him with a murderous stare that made Regulus wonder if he ever did something to him.

"How exactly did you find me here?" Regulus deadpanned.

Sirius smirked, tapping his temple with his forefinger. "Great instincts, brother. I'm basically a prophet."

Peter awkwardly cleared his throat, trying to suppress a laugh. Remus, awkwardly standing beside him, scratched his head with the same hand that was holding the Marauder's Map.

"What's that?" Regulus pointed at it.

"Nothing." Remus smiled at him.

"Looks suspicious."

"It's just... homework." Remus hummed.

Sirius clapped his hands together. "Anyway—! Regulus, my dear, weird little brother... tell me something. Are you dating Y/n?"

Regulus blinked at him. "What?"

"You heard me. Are you dating Y/n Y/l/n?" He stepped closer.

"Dating? Where did you even—?"

James's jaw clenched, and his grip on his wand tightened.

"You're lying." Sirius pointed an accusatory finger at Regulus's nose. "You're lying through your teeth. You're probably snogging her behind the dungeons, don't you?"

Regulus gave him a disgusted look. "Why would I snog someone in the dungeons? That's unsanitary."

Peter snickered under his breath. James still hadn't moved or spoken— he just kept...staring. His left eye was twitching a little.

"Come on," Sirius whined. "Are you two or aren't you? Spill, Reg."

"If you're insinuating that we're together, then you're delusional."

Sirius gasped dramatically.

"We're just close. Is it so unbelievable that I have friends? Do you need me to draw a diagram?" Regulus shot back, clearly irritated.

Sirius, undeterred, leaned in again. "So, is she single?"

James's head snapped to look at him with a deep frown.

"I suppose?" Regulus sighed deeply.

"And you're going to ask her out to Hogsmeade this weekend? Valentine's Day is coming up, you know."

Regulus shrugged. "Probably."

PROBABLY?!

Regulus's voice echoed through James's mind like a death toll.

That stupid, little casual shrug haunted him, and he was absolutely losing his mind. He was pacing back and forth in his dorm room, whilst his friends were staring at him. His hair was messy— messier than usual, and he looked like one bad thought away from throwing himself out of the Gryffindor tower.

"Prongs, you gotta tell us what's wrong or else we can't help you solve your problem," Sirius said from where he was sprawled on James's bed, munching on a chocolate frog.

Remus, perched in an armchair, sipped his cup of tea. He hummed thoughtfully while eyeing his friend. He had his suspicions— had them for a while now— but after Sirius's interrogation with Regulus, he connected the dots.

James threw his hands in the air. "I can't!"

"Why not?" Peter piped from the floor.

"Because I just— I just can't!"

"Since when do we keep secrets from each other, huh?" Sirius sat on the bed dramatically. "We're brothers! We solemnly swore and everything!"

"Maybe Prongs isn't ready yet." Remus shot James a knowing look.

"...You cheated on your NEWTs again?" Peter's eyes squinted at James.

"What? No!" James snapped.

There was a beat of silence.

"...You gay?" Peter tried again, dead serious.

"NO!" James cried, absolutely losing his mind because his friends were definitely not helping right now. He let out a wounded groan and flopped onto the couch dramatically. "I'm doomed." He muttered through the cushions.

Meanwhile, in his head, a horrible scene was playing on the loop: Regulus, all intimidating and handsome, cornering you somewhere dark and romantic (and stupid)— asking you to be his date on Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day. You, smiling shyly, will accept it. Regulus will buy you chocolates, give you a plush teddy bear, and kiss your hand like some male lead in a romantic muggle movie.

James almost sobbed at the thought.

"Prongs, you're spiraling." Sirius exchanged glances with Peter.

"We have to do something," Peter whispered.

"What? Like an exorcism?" Sirius whispered back.

"Oh, Merlin, it's like the Evans fiasco over again." Peter shook his head, looking at him with pity.

"It's not." Remus walked over to where they were.

"How do you know, dear Moony?" Sirius lightly nudged him in the shoulder.

Remus leaned on the bedpost, looking more smug than usual. "Because, dear friends, I am basically... a prophet."

"Hey, only I get to claim divine intervention around here!" Sirius frowned.

James groaned again from the couch, not lifting his head. "Kill me now."

The library was quiet— eerily quiet— except for the soft flipping of books and quiet murmurs. You and Regulus were tucked away in the far corner of the library, the one spot where the sun hits perfectly, and where Madam Pince rarely bothered anyone.

Regulus sat across from you, flipping a book open, but clearly not reading. "Sirius cornered me last night."

You blinked at him. "...What"

"Near the dungeons. Him, Lupin, Pettigrew, and Potter."

Your heart stopped at the mention of James's last name, but you didn't let it show. Instead, you leaned back in your chair. "What did he want now?"

"He interrogated me."

"About?"

"You," He answered flatly. "Apparently, everyone thinks we were dating."

You froze.

Well, that was... unexpected— or expected— given the way people had been whispering lately. But still, James must've heard that, right? You immediately imagined his reaction—probably furrowing his brows so hard it created a crease in the middle of his forehead, pacing around his dorm room, and tearing at his impossibly messy hair.

Sure, teasing him had been fun— I mean, he had the cutest pout. And it wasn't every day James Potter got jealous. Usually, you were the one watching him get tackled by his bunch of admirers, especially after Quidditch matches, while you try not to hex them to oblivion.

But even if it was mildly entertaining, the thought of James— your James— feeling insecure made your heart pinch. James was the most confident, brilliant, and the most adorable human being you'd ever met.

You frowned, lost in thought, until Regulus added something.

"...But then Sirius asked if you were single and if I'd be asking you out on a date."

THUD.

Both of your heads whipped around just in time to see a very disheveled, very pouty James Potter emerging from behind the bookshelf.

"Oh, hello," He said in the fakest, innocent voice he could muster. "Didn't see you two there."

You offered him a small smile when Regulus wasn't looking at you. "Looking for a specific book, Potter?"

"Mhm." James nodded, stepping into your little study area. He stood near you, still indulging himself with the books he couldn't care less about. "Just browsing. Loads of Slytherin energy here, though."

Regulus's eyes narrowed. "Are you following me?"

James blinked. "What? No. I came here for—" He grabbed the nearest book he could find. "—The Joy of Magical Fungus."

A pause.

"Fascinating stuff, really," James added.

Regulus frowned. "...Right."

James waved a dismissive hand. "Don't mind me here... just continue with... whatever you two were doing..."

Regulus turned to you. "Anyway, as I was saying—"

James loudly cleared his throat.

Both of you turned to look at him.

"Itchy throat." James chuckled and cleared his throat once again— this time, more obnoxiously.

"I was saying," Regulus gave a pointed glare at James. "Before I get interrupted—"

"Ahem."

"—Interrupted again, I was going to say I hadn't really considered asking you out, but maybe—"

James took a step closer beside you. This time, he was looming over the two of you. You scratched the back of your neck, trying to suppress the secondhand embarrassment creeping up your spine.

"Do you mind?" Regulus asked, clearly annoyed.

"Not at all," James replied.

"Do you live in the library now, Potter?"

"No. But I do believe in broadening my... intelligence."

Regulus scowled. "You're literally holding that book upside down."

"Am I?" James turned to look at his book.

Regulus opened his mouth to say something, but sighed instead, glancing at his wrist watch. "Whatever. I have class."

You offered him a tight-lipped smile. "Bye, Reg."

As Regulus turned to leave with a confused shake in the head, James casually slipped into the seat next to you.

You raised an amused brow. "The Joy of Magical Fungus?"

"Good stuff," James mumbled. "He was about to ask you out, wasn't he?"

You giggled and went to cup his face. "Hey."

"Hmm?"

"You're so obvious."

James's bottom lip jutted even more. "They all think you're single."

You kissed his pout.

"And worse, they think you're dating Regulus freaking Black."

You kissed the other side of his pout.

"He's not even funny."

Another kiss.

"Or beefy."

One more kiss on the nose. "You done?"

James sighed deeply and finally melted into your arms like a dramatic little spoon. “...Maybe.”

You ran your fingers through his hair gently, the one thing guaranteed to make him stop spiraling.

“Listen to me,” you whispered. “I’m your girlfriend. I like you. I love you when you're pouting, jealous, and dramatic. But also when you're smug and sweet and a bit of a show-off. No one, especially not Regulus, is going to change that.”

James peeked up at you, cheeks pink. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“And maybe,” He added, voice muffled against your sweater, “We could tell people soon. So no one else tries to steal you.”

You smiled. “I thought you wanted it secret for now.”

“I changed my mind,” he huffed. “I’m claiming my territory.”

You burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m in love,” James corrected. “It’s worse.”

James's hand tightened around your waist, almost pulling you into his lap. He doesn't even care if people find out about you two right now. He doesn't even care one bit if Regulus walked in on you two suddenly.

Because Regulus couldn't make you feel everything he did.

Not today. Not ever.

©kjhbsies

taglist: @dearmy-diary @kmhbygss @ladycaramelswirl @mao-nuwang

[insertdisc5]

📚 A List Of Useful Websites When Making An RPG 📚

My timeloop RPG In Stars and Time is done! Which means I can clear all my ISAT gamedev related bookmarks. But I figured I would show them here, in case they can be useful to someone. These range from "useful to write a story/characters/world" to "these are SUPER rpgmaker focused and will help with the terrible math that comes with making a game".

This is what I used to make my RPG game, but it could be useful for writers, game devs of all genres, DMs, artists, what have you. YIPPEE

Writing (Names)

Behind The Name - Why don't you have this bookmarked already. Search for names and their meanings from all over the world!

Medieval Names Archive - Medieval names. Useful. For ME

City and Town Name Generator - Create "fake" names for cities, generated from datasets from any country you desire! I used those for the couple city names in ISAT. I say "fake" in quotes because some of them do end up being actual city names, especially for french generated ones. Don't forget to double check you're not 1. just taking a real city name or 2. using a word that's like, Very Bad, especially if you don't know the country you're taking inspiration from! Don't want to end up with Poopaville, USA

Writing (Words)

Onym - A website full of websites that are full of words. And by that I mean dictionaries, thesauruses, translators, glossaries, ways to mix up words, and way more. HIGHLY recommend checking this website out!!!

Moby Thesaurus - My thesaurus of choice!

Rhyme Zone - Find words that rhyme with others. Perfect for poets, lyricists, punmasters.

In Different Languages - Search for a word, have it translated in MANY different languages in one page.

ASSETS

In general, I will say: just look up what you want on itch.io. There are SO MANY assets for you to buy on itch.io. You want a font? You want a background? You want a sound effect? You want a plugin? A pixel base? An attack animation? A cool UI?!?!?! JUST GO ON ITCH.IO!!!!!!

Visual Assets (General)

Creative Market - Shop for all kinds of assets, from fonts to mockups to templates to brushes to WHATEVER YOU WANT

Velvetyne - Cool and weird fonts

Chevy Ray's Pixel Fonts - They're good fonts.

Contrast Checker - Stop making your text white when your background is lime green no one can read that shit babe!!!!!!

Visual Assets (Game Focused)

Interface In Game - Screenshots of UI (User Interfaces) from SO MANY GAMES. Shows you everything and you can just look at what every single menu in a game looks like. You can also sort them by game genre! GREAT reference!

Game UI Database - Same as above!

Sound Assets

Zapsplat, Freesound - There are many sound effect websites out there but those are the ones I saved. Royalty free!

Shapeforms - Paid packs for music and sounds and stuff.

Other

CloudConvert - Convert files into other files. MAKE THAT .AVI A .MOV

EZGifs - Make those gifs bigger. Smaller. Optimize them. Take a video and make it a gif. The Sky Is The Limit

Marketing

Press Kitty - Did not end up needing this- this will help with creating a press kit! Useful for ANY indie dev. Yes, even if you're making a tiny game, you should have a press kit. You never know!!!

presskit() - Same as above, but a different one.

Itch.io Page Image Guide and Templates - Make your project pages on itch.io look nice.

MOOMANiBE's IGF post - If you're making indie games, you might wanna try and submit your game to the Independent Game Festival at some point. Here are some tips on how, and why you should.

Game Design (General)

An insightful thread where game developers discuss hidden mechanics designed to make games feel more interesting - Title says it all. Check those comments too.

Game Design (RPGs)

Yanfly "Let's Make a Game" Comics - INCREDIBLY useful tips on how to make RPGs, going from dungeons to towns to enemy stats!!!!

Attack Patterns - A nice post on enemy attack patterns, and what attacks you should give your enemies to make them challenging (but not TOO challenging!) A very good starting point.

How To Balance An RPG - Twitter thread on how to balance player stats VS enemy stats.

Nobody Cares About It But It’s The Only Thing That Matters: Pacing And Level Design In JRPGs - a Good Post.

Game Design (Visual Novels)

Feniks Renpy Tutorials - They're good tutorials.

I played over 100 visual novels in one month and here’s my advice to devs. - General VN advice. Also highly recommend this whole blog for help on marketing your games.

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

[cheer-nympho]

Steve was always being brushed off when he asked people to read things aloud for him,

In middle school his assigned partner for their ‘Frankenstein’ project gave him a scornful glare and ignored him when he had asked them to read the passages aloud.

In his sophomore year, he’d turned to ask Robin Buckley to read a old newspaper article about the ‘Wild West’ to him, because he couldn’t make it out through the fonts and weird words. She had fixed him with a cold look but before she could respond, Tammy was tapping his shoulder offering her help.

Then, while studying with Nancy and Barb at lunch, Steve had asked for help reading study cards. His own study cards. The paper was too bright and the squiggles too squiggly. Both of them had looked at him, them each other, clearly trying to decide if it was a joke.

Barb had scoffed under Nancys pointed look and gone back to her own notes. And while Nancy hadn’t read them out for him, she had handed him her own notes on some nice blue and yellow cards. It took him a while, but he could read them. Maybe she thought he hadn’t wrote any.

After that, he went a long time without asking anyone to read him things. Turns out that once you graduate, reading isn’t much of an issue. He’d gotten by just fine by looking at his Archie comics and ignoring the swirling lines of articles surrounding them.

He didn’t need to ask again until Scoops Ahoy. For a cheap, overly themed ice cream parlour there sure was a whole lot of memorising and reading to be done. He couldn’t see the charts properly, couldn’t really make out the dates on the tubs in the freezer. But every time he asked Robin for help, her frown would deepen and deepen until she just snapped. It hadn’t been that mean, really. Just an annoyed yell followed by accusations of being lazy, her not understanding how he managed to graduate, one last comment of him being a ‘bumbling idiot’.

After the Russians, she never said anything like that to him again. And she always did the inventory and lists for him.

It takes until summer, 1987, for anyone to read aloud to Steve. They were laying across Eddie’s new bed in comfortable silence.

Steve had his legs dangling off the edges as Eddie leant back against him, legs pointing up against the wall in a way he swore was actually comfortable. He had been reading a new book called “Spellfire” and he couldn’t seem to put it down.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“What’s your book about?”

“This? Well I…Not sure it’s really your thing, man.”

“Maybe.” He goes back to reading. “I could see if it’s my thing?”

Eddie twists his head sideways to look up at Steve with a slightly confused face. “You wanna borrow it?”

“Was thinking you could read it.” He fiddled with the pocket of his jeans in a hopefully casual and not freaking out way. He didn’t look at Eddie as he waited, but after a few moments he responded.

“Sure. That’s fine, yeah. Want me to start over or go from here?”

“From there is good.”

And it was good, it was really really good. Steve hadn’t been able to read a book since middle school, hadn’t really tried again after that. But as he lay back and let Eddie’s voice wash over him he couldn’t help feeling that he’d been missing out.

Sure, it actually wasn’t really his thing, but the way Eddie read aloud painted such a clear picture that Steve enjoyed it anyway. The other would change his voice slightly for different characters and added emotions into his speaking. If it was a tense moment, he’d go slow and add gaps in just the right places. If it was fast paced he’d speed up and get more and more manic until the action cut off. He felt like he was reading along. Felt like he could see the pages in the book, but also the characters and the dungeon they were combining through.

So, for the first time Steve hadn’t been brushed off. He had probably found the only person he knew who could turn reading a book into a performance. One he would happily be seated for every night.

From then on, new books turned up at the trailer every week, Steve not far behind.

[astarionancuntnin]

Remember Me

summary: you cant make sense of where you are or even how you ended up in this cell, hells, you're not even sure of who you are at this point; any memories of your past are a blur. its all the more confusing when a group of adventurers come rescue you, and a particularly worried pale elf takes it upon himself to help you remember who you are.

rating: E

word count: 7k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, reader is tav)

cw: 18+. angst, act 3 spoilers related to astarion's side quest, mentions of kidnaping and torture, memory loss, blood feeding, vampire bites, smut, oral (f!receiving), p in v, The Leg Thing followed by mating press, sweet love making, love confession. full list on ao3

a/n: loosely based on this audio (18+) from OGY.

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

Pain.

It’s the first thing that hit you when your consciousness came back to you.

How much everything fucking hurt.

Your entire body felt as if it had gone through the nine Hells, all at once; you could barely find the strength in yourself to get to your feet, let alone push yourself off the ground.

Then it was the disarray when you couldn’t place what had happened for you to feel so awful.

It was as if you had woken up from a long sleep; distant voices in your head, blurry faces merging together when you closed your eyes, and an awful feeling of emptiness, as if you had forgotten something extremely important but you couldn’t put your finger on it, no matter how much you thought about it.

Nothing but endless darkness.

As much as you tried to remember your life, anything before this moment, you were met with a dark fog clouding your vision. Your family, your friends — if you even had any — had all vanished from your memory. You think you remember yourself, for the most part, but even that was a stretch; you couldn’t even remember your own bloody name.

You look around you, realising for the first time that you were in a prison cell. The course of events after waking up in this dark cell hadn’t helped; the sudden cold inhabiting you, followed by this man — this monster — barging in without as much as a warning before pushing you face first against the ground and ripping open your shirt, to then torture you as he carved your back with his knife, only to leave as suddenly as he had appeared. Barely a few words exchanged, aside from some mumbling about teaching “him” a lesson, whoever that was, and you were alone once again.

Alone, with nothing but this seething pain in your back from the butchery you had gone through, the hunger digging into your belly, and your blood leaking from your shivering form, pooling around you on the cold, hard floor.

You barely had the time to gather your thoughts when the same man came back barely minutes later to carry you out of your cell and into a larger room — keeping you restrained with some magic that visibly came from his staff — where more people waited.

By the looks of it, you had been right on one thing: this was indeed a dungeon, and you were located in the deepest part of them; this room contained only a round, rock platform, located above an endless, foggy pit.

In the state you were in, you couldn’t catch everything he said as he went on a monologue. Something about powers, freedom; whatever it was, they needed you to achieve it, that was the only thing that was clear from his speech. You couldn’t understand how any of them would follow a maniac like him, but in their eyes you noticed how they listened to his words with as much fear as awe.

Your form was shivering from the cold; you wanted to cover up your top which had been previously ripped off from your body, but it was all in vain: the restraints of his magic kept you in place, and right after his speech, you were sent flying over a designated spot floating above the ground, just like all the six other people that had surrounded you previously.

Your arms remained bound to your sides by whatever spell this monster had cast on you, leaving your chest exposed to the damp, cool air of this dungeon, and your fresh wound stinging evermore at your back.

You remember the panic tightening in your chest when you realised you couldn't escape. You remember the brief relief, hope even, at the sight of a group of adventurers approaching — one of the figures shouting at the man in the middle of the room — followed by explosions and screams. Then the fear settled in when you saw them execute one of the other unfortunate souls magically held floating around this room, one new truth forming in your mind.

They weren’t here to save you.

You would be next. They would kill you. You would die here.

The pressure in your chest grew tighter as you closed your eyes and mourned your life, one you didn’t even remember experiencing, one that — you hope — had been full of adventures, of acquaintances… of love.

This last one must’ve been true. You remember being loved — more so how it felt, even if the feeling seemed so far and long ago. You remember the butterflies in your belly, the fluster in your heart, the heat between your legs; you remember just enough to know that if you died today, at least, you would’ve died as someone who had been loved.

You didn’t expect your feet to touch the cold hard ground once more. You remember falling to your knees, your body exhausted by the abuse it had gone through in just the last few hours. You remember your dry throat when you noticed the butchered corpse in the middle of the room, barely recognizable anymore.

“Gods… what has he done to you?”

But you couldn’t seem to place the face of your saviour. The bloodied, silver curled elf who had rushed to kneel next to you after defeating your captor, who approached you and held your face so carefully.

How those crimson eyes of his had widened in horror when you flinched at his touch and backed away.

Him and his group had killed one of you who stood in this circle, who’s to say he wasn’t here to finish the job? Lure you in with a sweet touch only to snap your head off; you knew better than to let yourself fall for the first man to approach you.

“Darling, it’s over now.” He had said with his voice low, getting back on his feet to approach you as if you were an injured beast, “Just take my hand, we’re getting out of here.”

You didn’t know whether to feel insulted or reassured by his assertiveness, but you remained frozen in place, your eyes switching from the hand extended out to you and his severe look that you reciprocated with a frown to hide your terror.

“Look,” he sneered, “you can either take my hand, come with me out of this hellhole, or rot away in this godsforsaken—”

From behind him, someone from his group called out a name which stopped him mid-sentence just as his tone was rising.

“Astarion.”

A name that felt oddly familiar, despite the void in your memories. It danced beautifully as it echoed across the room and around your mind; there was something about it that just sounded right.

Astarion. A name worthy of being written in the stars, you find yourself thinking, the sound of it bringing you a familiar sense of peace, of security.

Astarion. Maybe if you repeated it enough in your head, something clearer would come up. Maybe, just maybe, then you would remember.

He took a deep breath and continued, which brought you back from your reverie, “I’m quite certain you went through the Hells and back, but for now, I’ll have to ask you to trust me, just as you’ve done in the past. Can you do that for me?”

He extended out his hand once more, this time a request rather than a command, his voice carrying out his concerns, “Can you trust me?”

“Why would I trust someone I’ve just met?” You wanted to ask, but something about the way he asked struck a chord, as if you did know him. As if you knew he spoke true when he said you used to trust him, and you finally accepted the hand he held out to you.

A hand that pulled you to your feet, and guided you out of this dreadful place.

You were given a cloak to cover your shivering form, and you walked along with them back to their camp. Back to this intriguing, yet charming man’s tent, where they all agreed you should rest for the night.

The first thing that hit you when you stepped in was the smell.

You didn’t know what it was exactly, you couldn’t recognize it, but it was intoxicating; it only made your stomach churn more. As the adrenaline of the previous hour settled down, you fell to your knees, grabbing onto your waist as the pain that had been muted came back screaming through your guts.

“Shit—” He rushed down to check on you, with one hand down your back, holding onto you, “Darling, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“What isn’t wrong?! I was tortured, starved off, almost sacrificed for all I know, and I can’t even remember who I fucking am!” Is what you wanted to say, but all you could manage out is a groan in the middle of your sobs.

When you lifted your head, your eyes fell onto the set of messily arranged bottles from where the strong smell came from, and a quick exchange of glances told him everything he needed to know.

“Of course, you’re hungry,” He sighed heavily, "Look, I’ll gladly offer you some from my own reserves — after I’ve taken a look at your wounds.”

You had almost forgotten about them.

You averted your eyes from his gaze, your mind now racing as you expected the worst. You had no way to see what had been done to your back, but the pain you had gone through was a good indicator of how bad it would look.

Met with your silence, he continued, “I need… to see what he’s done to you. Please.”

Your eyes went back and forth between him and the dark bottles briefly considering pouncing on them to get a taste as your mouth watered in anticipation, but you reluctantly turned your back to him as you sat with your legs pressed back into your stomach, barely helping mitigate the pain in your stomach.

As you let the cloak fall from your shoulders, you heard nothing but a shaky, deflated sigh behind you. Seconds of silence passed before you considered turning around, but a part of you was terrified of the look you would find on his face.

You finally found the strength to utter your first words.

“Is it… that bad?” Your voice was rough from neglect, as the last time you had used it had been to scream when you received this torture.

You heard him take a deep breath, shaking away the shock that had previously rendered him speechless, “You must’ve already known what he carved away in your back. Hells, I knew before even looking, but seeing it…” he pauses, his tone quieting, “seeing it is another story completely.”

“I… I don’t know,” you muster with a weak voice. It's true, you had no idea, he had carved your damn back, you had no way to see the extent of his torture.

He took a deep breath, shaking away the feelings that had sneaked their way into his voice, “It’s no matter, it’s over now; Cazador is dead. He won’t hurt—” he paused, as if processing the information himself, “Anyone, ever again.”

You turned around to face him this time, “Who’s Cazador?”

He huffed, “I’m glad it was that easy for you to forget about him, but when you’ve suffered under his hand for nearly two centuries, the memories tend to linger.”

You remained silent as you stared at him, just as shocked as you were confused by his words. When he noticed your stare, his face twisted in concern, “Oh shit, you’re serious.”

You nodded silently.

He continued, tentatively, “He was my master, he’s the one we killed back in the dungeons — the one who abducted you, who did this to you. Do you not remember any of this?”

You shook your head slightly, never leaving his gaze.

“Oh dear.” His voice dropped as his eyebrows raised and his eyes widened all at once, “Do you remember anything at all — the absolute, our adventure… Do you remember… me?”

His eyes went back and forth between yours, as if he was searching them for any sign of recognition, looking for you, whoever you were behind those confused, teary eyes. You gave him another shy shake of your head, followed by a single tear coming down your cheek, a tear you weren’t sure why it was shed; whether it was from the loss of yourself, or the mourning of something you didn’t even remember having.

“Gods…” He breathed out heavily as his sight left you, his mind visibly ruminating. “He can’t… He couldn’t have… He…”

His tone suddenly changed as he growled, “That monster.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head before looking back at you, “You were with us just yesterday. You were — are this group’s leader. If… If you have no memories of your mortal life then it means…” he looked away, frowning, “He rushed your transformation to replace me in the ritual.”

None of the words he had said made any sense to you, “Transformation?”

He turned back to you to be met with your visible confusion, and he explained further, “Normally, when you’re turned, you need to be drained of your blood and buried six feet underground, before you can crawl out of your tomb to be reborn. This process takes a day, usually, and when you awaken, you are still you, but immortal and bound to your master,” he spat out the last word like it left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

“Now you,” he continues, “you were turned within twelve hours, which would explain why your eyes are only half red, why your fangs haven’t come out yet, and…” his voice quieted down, “why you have no memories of your past. As if the rushed transformation had actually killed this part of you along with your humanity.”

You remained focused on the first thing he had said: your eyes had changed colour?

You hadn’t had the chance to look at yourself since your awakening and if not remembering your name wasn’t anxiety inducing enough, you realised you couldn’t even recall what you looked like.

All of a sudden, panic rushed its way into your heart; you needed to see yourself. You frantically looked around the tent to find anything that could send back your reflection and practically jumped on the pocket mirror when you spotted it nearby Astarion.

Only the mirror was broken. It must’ve been; it reflected nothing.

“If that wasn’t obvious by now, this should’ve clarified things a bit,” he said.

He lowered the mirror you still held in front of you, expecting your image to be reflected eventually, maybe at a different angle, maybe with more light. Maybe another one would, maybe you were just delirious from everything that had happened only today.

“You’re a vampire now. No matter the angle, you’ll never see your reflection come out of this mirror. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Vampire.

The word didn’t make sense; nothing made sense.

Yet, when you parted your lips to let your tongue run against your teeth; you found your canines the same size they were, that they should’ve been, but they were much sharper than what would be considered normal and you almost pierced your tongue from the gesture.

“Maybe…” he carried on, lost in thought, “there’s even a chance that the tadpole has been messing around with more of the changes your body is going through.”

“Tadpole?” You interjected, your head shaking of its own in disbelief. “What?”

He huffed in astonishment, “So you really do remember nothing.”

You sighed, “I— I don’t… As much as I try, I’m met with a void of memories. The only thing remotely familiar since I woke up has been… you.” His eyes had gone soft and bright with hope, but also melancholy. “I don’t know who you were to me, and I don’t know why, but some part of me knew I could trust you.”

He chuckled, a sad smile finding its way over his lips, “Even with your memories gone, it seems I can’t leave your mind, can I?”

You gave him a smile of your own, “Would you mind… reminding me of my life? Of us?”

“Gods, where to start, darling. Would you believe me if I told you our story began with me holding a knife to your throat?”

You found yourself smiling unconsciously, “With everything that's happened to me in the last few hours, I find that easy to believe.”

“And strangely enough it's probably the least odd part of our story.” He tilted his head, giving you a genuine smile before carrying on.

“It’s all tedious, really, but… There’s one memory I want to tell you about: The night of the tiefling party. Ugh, it was dreadful for the most part; the wine tasted like vinegar, the music was too loud, and there were too many of those bloody tieflings at our camp, to be quite sincere— “

“Not a people’s person I take it?”

“My dear, after years of being forced on and by people, the last thing you want is to be surrounded by more of them.” The sight of you parting your lips and raising your eyebrows told him you had also forgotten about this and he quickly caught onto it, changing the direction of the discussion back to the topic at hand. “But, there was one good thing that came out from this night: when we met in the woods. I had high hopes of you joining me there — although no doubts, of course — I was the most suitable option among our group after all.”

“Most suitable? Someone else wanted to spend the night with… me?”

“Darling, the whole world and their mother wanted a special moment with you. But only one of us got that honour. A chance to steal away with everyone’s new favourite leader.”

The faint sounds of the party fading: music echoing through the forest, people laughing, the cool air of a summer’s night breezing through, and good company throughout the night.

“I have been waiting for you. Waiting since the moment I first saw you. Waiting… to have you.”

You blinked, “You… were waiting for me in the woods, I’m— I’m remembering.”

“I did put a lot of effort into my entrance, I would be upset if you didn't remember it quite honestly.” You laughed softly. “Do you remember what happened afterwards?”

Your eyes roamed as you pushed the memory further, before you lifted your head to meet his gaze, “You… kissed me.”

“After you had the audacity to say I didn't have you yet while you had come to me of your own volition, yes, and then?”

You chuckled, but your smile quickly faded as your memory unlocked the next part of this puzzle. He looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes; he was simply waiting for you to say it yourself.

“We made love.”

He sighed dramatically, “Love is such a big word for what happened back then, but…” his tongue clicked, accentuating the end of the word, “That was certainly the start of it. The start of a series of feelings that came and complicated everything. It’s what pushed me, soon after, to confess to you that it was all part of a silly plan I had to keep you in my favour. I was terrified, honestly, especially considering it was all because I initially manipulated you to fall for me…”

He paused, searching your expression before carrying on, and continued when he found nothing but soft eyes looking back. “But then — despite everything — there you were, holding me tight.”

He let go of a deep breath.

“For so long I had nothing — no one. And all of a sudden, there’s you, who held onto me, who cared so much more than anyone ever did. And I found myself not wanting to let go. I couldn't.”

He frowned, turning his gaze away, “And Cazador used that against me. As soon as he had word of my whereabouts in Baldur’s Gate and the crowd I was hanging out with, he jumped at the first chance to torture me once more. He probably thought I was unaffected by any physical pain he could impose on me by now, so he did the next worst thing: take it out on the one person I cared about in this wretched world.” He shook his head, “If we hadn’t gotten there in time—”

“But you did.” You interrupt. “You saved me and yourself in the process. This ritual wouldn’t have given you the freedom you think it carried.”

His eyes lit up, “You talk as if you knew what it entailed.”

You nodded, “It’s coming back to me, bit by bit. I remember what you told me about him. I remember the purpose of the ritual, and your plan to replace him and take his power instead.”

He sighed, “Gale thought brilliant to kill one of my brothers to stop Cazador from carrying on with the ritual. Bloody wizard didn’t realise it meant I couldn’t continue it myself then.

“Maybe he did.” His gaze flickered back to you in confusion before you continued, “You don’t need satanic powers to carry on, Astarion. You’re free now.”

He huffed, “And all it cost was my life in the sun.”

“Well,” you tilted your head, “It did cost me mine too. Once the tadpoles are gone, we’ll both be banished to the shadows once again. But we’ll be together, and that’s something at least.”

He rolled his eyes before landing them on you, “At least the transformation didn’t take away from your heartbleeding optimism, dear.”

You chuckled, “Thank the Gods for that— ugh!”

You clutched at your stomach, your body tilting forward in pain, and Astarion instantly knew the cause of your suffering; it’s something he recognized all too well.

“Hells, you must be starving. Gods know Cazador wouldn’t waste a single drop on a lowly spawn — no offence, dear.”

“None taken,” you forced a humourless laugh. “I shouldn’t have expected much considering I was to be cattle for a satanic ritual.”

He turned around and you kept a close eye on him as he handled the bottles beside him, pulling out a silver cup out of his bag of holding to pour you a portion.

“Here,” he sat back down, parting his legs open, extending one arm to you, “Come on love, sit back against me, would you?”

You stared unsure for a few seconds but obliged him. You scooted back until your back was fully resting against his chest, leaving no space lost between the two of you.

When he brought the cup forward you reached for it but he pulled back, clicking his tongue, “Oh no, my sweet, I will be the one to feed you tonight. This is your first time, we wouldn't want your primal instincts to take over now, would we?”

You turned around to stare at him for some time with incertitude and he simply tilted his head, with a sly smile, “Humour me, darling. You’ll be glad you did, hm?”

You pressed your lips together almost pouting, but acquiesced as you nestled yourself between his legs, your tense body laying against his chest once again.

He brought the cup to your mouth at long last, while his other hand held onto your chin. You gasped at his touch — while not unwelcome, it was a surprise — and you parted your lips to welcome your drink.

His hands were rough against your skin, yet there was a softness to it that made you melt under his touch. Made you want to push further into his hand to know how it would feel around your throat. It was almost enough to make you forget about the drink against your lips. Almost.

While the mere closeness of it had been invigorating, drinking it was ecstatic. It felt like your first meal in weeks, and it might as well have been with the pit that had replaced your stomach.

You took big gulps of the delectable nectar, barely pausing for air as you rushed to empty the cup’s content, eager to have your fill with this delicious substance.

“Slowly now darling,” he pulled the cup away from your lips and you gasped at the loss of your feeding source, “This is your first time feeding; I wouldn’t rush things.”

You frowned, but complied; even if you were starving, he had over two hundred years of experience with this form — you barely had a few hours. Your mind wasn’t all there yet either, and it's true that you couldn’t trust those new primal instincts to be civil enough to drink responsibly.

You held onto the one truth you knew, one that was clear ever since the start: you trust him.

You eased back into him, letting him hold you and guide you throughout your meal. The cup rested at a slightly down angle against your lips to allow you good mouthfuls of blood without overfeeding you all at once.

“There, good girl,” he purred. “You are doing so well for me, love. Small sips now, let your body recuperate from the shock.”

There was something about his voice that soothed you, brought you a peace of mind, a calm after this storm that had been your last few hours.

A shiver down your spine, that travelled all the way down between your legs.

You finished the content of the cup at a slower pace than you had started, soothed by his soft approach and the new blood filling your stomach, and he took this chance to explain more about your condition while pouring you another serving.

“Considering this is your first feeding, you’ll need a bit more to carry on until your next meal. Mind you, it’s normal if you don’t feel full; this is a curse, after all. The real challenge is to learn to live with your hunger.” He cleared his throat as he brought the cup back up to your lips, full again, “Alright now, open up, love.”

You hungrily parted your bloodied lips to welcome another serving.

“There, there, just like that.” A soft whimper left your throat between sips, and he caressed your cheek with his thumb, “Shhh, you're okay, you're doing just fine.” He leaned next to your head to whisper, “You’re perfect, my sweet.”

For a moment, you could swear you felt your heart beat anew.

You drank with his help until you finished one full bottle from his reserve, and with the pain in your stomach settling down, you allowed your body to relax against him. That’s when you felt something poking against your back, something you wanted to taste as much as the blood that had blessed your tongue just moments ago.

And he must’ve known, too.

“So, as you must’ve realised, your hunger was a side effect of the transformation. But what you’re feeling now, which I can very much smell on you, is a result of your feeding.”

If any of the blood you had ingested had made it in your veins by now, they must’ve all rushed to your cheeks at this very moment.

“Blood,” he continued, “Brings us back alive temporarily; it warms us, allows our hearts a few shy beating of their own, but it also reawakens other mortal pleasures. The first time it can be… a tad overwhelming.”

“It’s…” You hadn’t realised how quiet your heart had been until it started beating away once more in your chest; your cheeks felt warm, your breathing had accelerated, and your core was aching. You breathed out your reply, “It really is.”

As you turned your head aside, resting against his shoulder, and your eyes lingered over his lips, another primal urge awoke in you to devour him, in every way possible. You needed to taste him, his mouth, his blood, his come—

Until you were blessed with another sudden memory, and you turned away from his lips, gazing anywhere that wasn’t on him to stop yourself from acting irrationally.

“Wait, no, I’m sorry—”

He grabbed your chin and turned you back to him in one fluid movement. “You have nothing to be sorry for, darling, and I would be more than happy to entertain these carnal thoughts I saw in those eyes of yours. Unless you’d rather spend the night with someone else?” he teased.

You held your breath as he brought you closer to him, his hand lingering over your cheek. If you just closed the distance now, you could—

“No, Astarion, I won't force—”

“Stop that right now.” He cut you off without skipping a beat, stunning you once more. “You are not forcing yourself onto me or forcing me. This, right now, right here, is my decision.”

His other hand came up to cup your face, drawing you closer to him, your lips but a whisper apart.

“I want this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice lustful and heavy with need. “I want… you.”

Your eyes locked and the second after, his lips were pressed against yours and you let yourself get lost into this kiss. How his hands held on to your face, how his tongue tasted the blood on your lips, how he whimpered into your mouth at the contact of your own tongue; this memory of love you had remembered earlier, it had been a memory of this.

His kiss, his touch, his voice, him.

Your kiss was engulfing, springing your heart back to life in a sudden rush as you met every of his kisses with the same passion, and soon enough, you were laying back against his bedroll, with him over you and stealing your breath away; one — you didn’t realise yet — you didn't need anymore.

His hands rested next to your head and you allowed yourself to reach up to hold his face, trace the lines of his age over his cheeks and down his neck, and trailing along the opening of his shirt before he broke apart from your lips.

“I’ve been thinking about this for many nights now.”

“What would I be like as a vampire?” You asked semi-jokingly.

“No, silly — Although, the question did flit into my mind once or twice, but no. I was thinking of how I would have you, the next time I would bed you. I’ve touched myself at the thought of having you again, the sounds you would make, how your cunt would feel wrapped around my cock instead of my hand—”

He took your hand from where it was resting and guided it down between his legs, and a short gasp escaped you when you felt how hard he was.

“ —but tonight, after spending a lifetime looking for it, I finally know what I want.” His half-lidded eyes seemed darker than they had been, and you lost yourself in them, "And Gods help me if I can't have you—”

“I’m yours,” you answered back in a heartbeat, your voice but a whisper, “I’ve always been, and I’ll always be, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Your words broke the remaining chains of control Astarion had over himself, as he pulled your pants off from you and removed his own shirt while your hands fumbled with his trousers. A moment later, you both laid against one another, as bare as you were on your first days on this plane of existence, your lips back on each other.

“Mmh, I wonder…” Astarion let his kisses trail down from your mouth to your jaw, then your neck.

“Hm?”

“Now that you’re a vampire,” he left small kisses alongside your neck and down your shoulder, “your blood will taste different.”

“You’ll still drink from me?”

“Well of course, dear,” he lingered in the crook of your neck, before licking his way up to your ear where he whispered, “And I can’t wait to know how you taste after you’ve tasted me.”

You shivered against his breath, fully expecting him to bite you following those words, and when he didn’t you were almost disappointed. He, on the other hand, seemed extremely satisfied with himself.

“Eager already? And here I thought I was the most depraved between the two of us.” You sighed heavily as he came back up to face you, “Maybe I will be tasting you tonight, after all. Is this something that you want?”

You smiled softly, your hand finding his cheek again, “Yes.”

When your lips met this time, it was soft, pure, communicating words you hadn’t exchanged yet despite your longing for one another. It only made you want him more.

“Speaking of tasting you,” he said against your lips, “I wonder if something else has changed.”

You barely had time to process what he had said when he made his way down your chest, briefly sucking on one of your nipples.

“Mh,” he released it with a pop, “this one still tastes the same.”

He moved to your other breast to give it the same attention, teasing it with his teeth and earning him a moan from you before releasing it, “This one as well.”

He left a path of kisses as he trailed down your navel, until he was resting between your legs with a hungry look in his eyes, “Now, for the main course—”

You weren’t prepared for his fangs to dig in the inside of your thighs, making you scream in surprise as your hands grabbed onto the sheet of his bedroll. The pain quickly turned into pleasure as he nibbled and kissed the softness of your thigh, before making his way to your wet slit, which begged for attention.

The smell of you invaded his senses and you could feel his breath over your core as he breathed you in, his arms now wrapped under your thighs as he laid on his stomach and between your legs, “Darling, you smell divine.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips as his tongue pressed against your entrance and he slowly licked all the way up to your clit, “And you taste— Gods, you taste even better than before.” He smiled up to you, his mouth covered by a cocktail of your blood and juices. “I didn’t think it could be possible.”

You were past words by now, but even if you had come up with something, you don’t think you would’ve been able to utter anything with the way his tongue worked between your legs, devouring you of your essence.

“I would forsake blood for the rest of my days if it meant I could nourish myself only of your essence, my love,” he said between licks of you. “The Gods truly made you to ruin me; I could never move on from your taste, even if I wanted to.”

His hands surrounding your thighs and his nails digging in your flesh kept you in place as he continued to worship you, and no matter how much you wiggled, his hold on you held on, as if you were the first meal he was having in days and he wouldn’t let you go until he was sated.

Astarion recognized the signs of your unbecoming as your breathing started shaking and your legs tensed around his head, pushing him to tease you further.

“Are you gonna come for me now?” He smiled between your legs, “Come on, love. Come for me. Come on my tongue.”

The vibration of his humming as he continued to savour you only added to the feeling of his tongue, lapping at your entrance and sucking over your sensitive bud, and his nails digging deeper into your thighs added a delicious hint of pain. After weeks without any sex, you were sensitive to the slightest touch, and now there he was: tasting you, devouring you, wanting you; it was all too much.

“Ah… Astarion!”

Your head fell back against the rough floor of his tent as your back arched and stars clouded your vision. You knew how ironic it was to think so, but you had never felt more alive than you did at this very moment, with your devoted lover worshipping you like the goddess who had finally answered his prayers from all those years ago.

Your legs collapsed as he let go of them to move back up to face you, and he took this chance to hook your leg with his, pushing it upwards to create the perfect angle for him to place himself against your entrance.

Your half-lidded eyes met his, delirious with lust, and you wanted to express the feeling that had been weighing on you for too long now, but when his lips collided with yours and you tasted yourself, all those words got lost on his tongue exploring your mouth.

“I’ve waited so long to finally have you,” he said breathlessly against your lips. “I kept pushing back, thinking it was never the right time.”

He licked his lips, wiping off the string of saliva that connected your mouths. “When you disappeared… I thought I had lost my only chance. I’m done waiting around.”

He slowly pushed himself into you with a low groan as he felt your slickness wrap around him, and you threw your arms around his neck as you moaned into his ear.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. So tight and warm, all for me. I would stay here inside of you for a decade if I could. You feel exquisite, my love.”

He retracted himself slowly, and plunged back in with the same agonising pace, taking in the feeling of your inside. “I’ll enjoy taking my time with you; discovering what makes you tick, tease every one of your sensitive spots. But tonight — I just want this: feeling you wrapped around me and to know that I’m the reason for your unbecoming.”

His pace accelerated, each thrust of his hips brushing against your clit as your bodies almost fused as one, pushing you closer to another edge already.

A particularly well placed thrust had you dig your nails into his back and he hissed into your ear, “Darling,” he panted, “Remind me to trim your nails when we’re done.”

You quickly realised what he meant when a poignant smell, stronger than the bergamot, brandy, and rosemary you smelled on him previously, invaded your nostrils and your mouth watered in response. What you didn’t realise was how you ended up breathing down his neck, just against the popping vein conveniently displayed for you to bite down on. Just one bite away from ecstasy.

“Still hungry, little love?”

You were snapped out from your daze by his voice purring into your ear, pulling away from his neck and blinking as you gained back control of your thoughts.

“I’m— It’s just— Your blood smells really, really good.”

He chuckled, “I tend to have that effect on people. Would you like a taste?”

You forced yourself to look into his eyes, “I… Are you sure?”

He smiled, “There’s nothing I’d like more, my love.”

His gaze reflected sincerity and you gulped as you found your way back in the crook of his neck, your lips brushing against his sensitive skin. You licked the vein you had sensed earlier but didn’t push further. That’s when you felt the vibration of his chuckle, “Go on, darling. I can take it, I promise.”

With his permission, you pushed your small fangs right over the vein in his neck, relishing in the sudden flood of his crimson in your mouth.

Whatever you drank a few minutes ago was nothing compared to his blood. He was the source in a desert you had been roaming for days, one you couldn’t believe wasn't an illusion, and you drank, and drank, losing yourself in his neck, in his taste, the very essence that fueled him.

You couldn’t tell how much you had drank or how much time had passed when he growled and pinned your arms next to your head. His hips thrusting once, deeper into you and hitting your cervix is what makes you unlatch from his neck with a moan.

“I believe that’s enough, love. Now, let me taste you.”

His lips collided with yours hungrily as he increased his pace between your legs, and he groaned at the taste of himself on your lips, running his tongue across your small fangs.

“Fuck, I need you, I need to make you mine. I need—”

Something snapped within him, a side of him you couldn’t recall ever seeing — one that he could finally let go as he pushed your legs up, pinning them down across your chest and pounded deeper into you.

He growled into your ear as he desperately rutted into you, nearing the edge of his climax at the same time as yours, “I want you, I want you for the rest of our lives, please be mine, be mine, be mine!”

“I’m yours, I'm yours, I— I love you!”

You screamed as you came, his own orgasm following closely after yours, the wave of emotions clashing with the sparks of pleasure coursing throughout your body, and for a moment, you think you died and came back to life within the same minute. It was stronger than anything you remember feeling — even with your memories still scattered, you think you’d remember something as powerful.

It’s only when you came back to your senses and was met with Astarion’s soft, dumbfounded expression, that you realised what you had just said. Panic slowly made its way into your heart and you struggled to find the right words to correct yourself.

“I’m sorry— I—”

He didn’t allow you to finish that sentence, kissing you once more to steal away those thoughts of regret that faded instantly as he pulled back to speak.

“I love you too, darling.”

Your future was paved with incertitude; your memory wasn’t all there yet, but you remembered what was important for now, and if forgetting your past was the price to create new memories with him, it was a price you were willing to pay.

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

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[lucydixon]

An Adventure

Masterlist 𐴱 Taglist 𐴱 Reading List 𐴱 Navigation A/N: This is part two of my Welcome to Hellfire Series. Previous Parts: 1 Series Masterlist

Summary: You offer to stay back and help Eddie clean up and two of you end up plotting an adventure

Once the excitement died down, the little ones had to rush home for curfew after profusely thanking you for coming, and the rest of the boys were stumbling out into the crowd leaving the pep rally, leaving just you and Eddie in the room. 

The two of you just stared at each other for a minute, still standing on opposite ends of the table, smiling. 

“Thanks for letting me play,” you said finally, looking like you really meant it. “Still not sure I actually understood any of it, but I had a lot of fun.” 

“Letting you play?” He scoffed, “Sweetheart, you carried the game.” 

Your cheeks warmed, and you felt butterflies fluttering against your ribs. 

“Might have to recruit you,” Eddie added. 

“I think I’ve got a lot to learn before I’m worthy of your special club.” You chuckled, pressing your thumb to each fingertip on one hand in succession. 

“I dunno, I think you’re a fast learner.” He smirked, “Managed to learn enough in an afternoon to beat my campaign on your first try.” 

“Beginners' luck.” You shrugged coyly. “Need help cleaning up?” 

“You don’t have to do that.” He waved you off, “Bad enough you got kidnapped and held hostage, I won't sentence you to hard labour on top of it.” 

“I really don’t mind.” You wondered briefly if he wanted you to leave. “Unless you’d rather be alone. I don’t want to impose on your post-game ritual.” 

“No spring break-eve party plans?” He raised a brow. 

“Not really,” you admitted, “was just gonna roam the streets, looking for trouble.” 

“Yeah?” He huffed out a laugh. “Better keep you busy then.”

You started collecting all the empty cans and candy wrappers while he rounded up the dice and very carefully folded up the map. 

“Did you make all this stuff?” You asked, scooping up a little painted figurine. 

“Not all by myself,” He shrugged. “The other guys helped.” 

“It’s really cool.” 

“Cool?” he scoffed. “I think you’re the first girl to ever refer to DND as ‘cool’.” 

“I dunno, maybe if they got to actually see it. I’d never heard of it before today.” 

“Not a subscriber to the belief of the satanic panic?” 

“Nah,” you sighed, “I’m more a live and let live type.”

“I’ve gotta know.” He said after a minute, “What did you whisper to that dice?”  

“You’d be surprised what a wholehearted ‘please’ can accomplish,” you smiled, “no secret mantra, just a please.” 

Eddie wondered what a ‘please’ could get him with you.

There wasn’t anything else to clean up, and Eddie knew that you had your own car, so he couldn’t offer to drive you home to stretch his time with you. 

“Do you really wanna learn?”  He asked. “How to play?”

“Is Eddie Munson offering to give me DND lessons?” You gasped theatrically. 

“I'd give you any kind of lesson you want if it gets me within ten feet of you this spring break.” Eddie blurted suddenly. 

Your lips parted in shock, and for a second, he was kicking himself for believing Henderson and Wheeler.

But then they stretched into a grin, and he felt like he could breathe again. 

“Could just ask me to hang out.” You told him. “Ten feet’s a little far for my taste, but baby steps, I guess.” 

“Yeah?” He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Kinda only came in the first place cause the littles said you were the Dungeon Daddy or whatever.” One side of your mouth quirked up into a smirk when he made a choking noise. 

“You mean Dungeon Master?” He swallowed hard. 

You just shrugged noncommittally and watched his cheeks turn pink as he cleared his throat.

“Wanna hang out right now?” 

“Pretty sure we’re already hanging out, Eddie.” You laughed.

“You don’t have to be home or anything?” 

“I don’t have anyone waiting up for me,” You smirked. “Are you proposing an adventure?” 

“I might be.” 

“Okay,” Eddie flicked the lights off on your way out of the drama room, “Logistics. We have two vehicles, one destination.” 

“One vehicle.” Your cheeks immediately warmed. 

“What about your car?” his brows pulled together. 

“It was removed from my possession.” You grimaced, “and will not be returned to me.” 

“That sounds like the start of a really good story.” He glanced over at you while the two of you wandered down the empty hallways of Hawkins High. 

“How’d you know I have a car?” You side-stepped the question and narrowed your eyes. 

“Lucky guess.” He answered far too quickly. 

“Liar.” 

“You know, we’ve got classes together.” Eddie shoulder-checked one of the doors leading to the parking lot, then held it open for you. 

“I’m well aware.” You laughed

“I am also well aware.” He muttered without looking at you before opening the passenger door to his beaten-up van. “Like, arguably, too aware.” 

“Really?” You paused and looked up at him, so close that you could reach out and touch him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He countered. 

“You’ve got this larger than life personality,” you told him, “It’s intimidating.” 

“You don’t seem very shy to me.” 

He wondered if you just didn’t want to be seen with him in the daylight. His chest ached at the thought. 

“Usually, I’m really not.” You chuckled, climbing into the passenger seat. “But usually, I’m not trying to come up with a reason to go talk to the cute metalhead who sits across the classroom. You’re far too cool for me, Eddie Munson. I had no idea I was even on your radar.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully before jogging around the front of the van and throwing himself into the driver's seat.

“I'm starting to think you haven't got a good grasp on the word cool.” He chuckled, turning the key in the engine. 

The van sputtered to life, and you just about jumped out of your seat when Judas Priest started blaring through the speakers so loud that you could feel your teeth rattle. 

“Sorry!” Eddie shouted over the noise and rushed to turn it down, taking in your wide eyed, startled took “Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” You laughed finally. “Jesus, though. You’re gonna blow your eardrums with it cranked that loud. Have you always got it on full blast?” 

“Pretty much.” He smiled sheepishly. “Not off to a good start, am I?” 

“Would’ve been a better start if you weren’t listening to Judas Priest.” 

“You know who that was?” His brows shot up so far that they disappeared in his bangs. 

“Unfortunately, yes.” You sighed dramatically. “I can’t take Rob Halford’s screeching.” 

“What else have you got?” Your eyes scanned the front of the van until Eddie reached behind his seat and procured a little box of cassette tapes for you to rifle through, still looking a little stunned. 

You turned one of them over and smiled softly to yourself before swapping out the tapes. 

He was so mesmerized by the way you were fiddling with his radio like you’d been in his van a hundred times that he didn’t bother glancing at what you’d selected for the adventure he’d promised. 

“There we go.” You muttered, hitting play. 

Ace of Spades, by Motörhead, crackled through the speakers, and you turned it up just enough to be able to talk over it.  

“Much better.” 

“Eddie?” Your brows pulled together slightly when he just stared at you. “Are you alright?” 

“What?” He snapped out of his trance and spoke a little too loudly. 

“You spaced out.” 

“Oh,” Eddie cleared his throat and shot you a playful grin. “Sorry, I was just planning our wedding.” 

Your cheeks warmed, but you beamed back at him. 

“Where are you taking me?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He scoffed, facing the road as he rolled forward. “That’s top secret information.” 

You didn’t argue and settled into your seat, rolling your eyes while he sped out of the parking lot, seemingly unfazed by his erratic driving, which didn’t come as much of a surprise, seeing as he’d watched you tear out of the very same lot what felt like a hundred times. 

“You know, I’m not gonna hurt you or like, sacrifice you or anything. Right?” He felt the need to say. 

“What?” Your head snapped to the side, and he could only take the bewildered look on your face for a half second before looking away. “Why would you say that?” 

“I dunno,” he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear, clearly in his head, “I’ve kind of kidnapped you and now I’m taking you to an undisclosed location. That doesn’t scare you? I know what people say about me.” 

“Enough with the kidnapping.” You groaned loudly, “If I didn’t wanna be here, I wouldn’t be.”

“I know you’re not gonna hurt me.” You added “It’s fucked up that those assholes made you feel like you have to ask.” 

“I’m not scared of you, Eddie.” Your voice softened, and it soothed the ache in his chest. 

“Besides,” you said after a couple of minutes had gone by, “I’m pretty sure I could take you in a fight.” 

‘You think so?” His voice was laced with amusement, but you could see in the momentary glance he’d shot in your direction that he was grateful for the change of subject. “I dunno. I’ve got a good foot on you.” 

“That just makes you slower,” you insisted with a playful glare. 

“Yeah, but I’m a wildcard, sweetheart.” He scoffed, back to his boisterous self, “You’ll always be one step behind.” 

Again with the pet names. 

This man was going to ruin you. 

“Lover’s Lake?” You chuckled when Eddie turned onto the familiar, unmarked road. “How romantic.”

His cheeks burned, but he let his hair fall in front of them in hopes that you wouldn't see. 

He was having a little bit of trouble discerning whether or not your impromptu adventure was a date. You seemed interested, and he was pretty sure you were flirting with him, but he was still wary of making any moves in case he’d entirely misunderstood your kindness for something more. 

“I would have expected more cars with it being the first night of spring break and all,” You muttered, leaning forward to glance around the desolate lake.

“Championship Basketball game, too.” He reminded you, rolling to a stop and shifting the van into park, “Lots of parties tonight.” 

As soon as he’d fought his way out of his seatbelt, to your amusement, Eddie rolled into the back of the van and procured a room-temperature six-pack of beer. 

“Should we have our own little party?”

Part 3

Dividers by @saradika-graphics GIF by @cowboylikemunson

Tag request: @walleloveseve

[ladyofstarfall206]

Kitchen Staff

Summary: Azriel’s shadows help you prepare a very special breakfast.

Warnings: None

“Now where did I put that…” A puff of white flour hazes your vision and you sneeze, waving your hand about wildly to clear the particles from the air. Wisps of inky black shadow hand you a whisk, before attempting to measure out a portion of the contents within the flour sack. You say attempted because, in their haste, your volunteer sous chefs overshot the cup and spilled on the counter.

You smirk. “I hope you’re not this clumsy in the dungeons. I can’t imagine Azriel would be pleased if his captive got away because you forgot to tighten the restraints.”

The shadows seemed to shrink back, scattering to the corners of the House of Wind’s kitchen like children being scolded. Your heart ached in your chest and you held out your palm as a peace offering. “Hey. Come here.”

The shadows slowly inched forward until they were curled up in your palm, eventually coiling around your wrists and working their way up your arm. A chuckle escaped you when you felt the cool touch of their featheight kisses against the shell of your ear. “I’m sorry guys, we’re just on a tight schedule. Azriel is due home today from Autumn and I haven’t even got these pastries in the oven yet.”

It was a debated topic among even those closest to Azriel, weather or not his shadows abided in his will alone or if they were autonomous beings. From what your experienced, they seemed to have their own agenda, as a handful of them always opted to stay behind with you whenever Azriel went out on missions. At first, he tried to force them along, but they disobeyed. You’ll never forget the shocked expression on his face when he came to that realization: they had disobeyed him for the first time. To this day, remaining by your side in his absence is the only scenario in which the shadows have gone against the will of their singer. Not long after that, the bond snapped, and Azriel informed you of the tongue lashing his shadows had given him for being slower to perceive you as his mate than they had been.

They knew. They always did. They were the only ones privy to the long nights their master had spent alone in the dark over the centuries. The only beings to know the truth behind his excuses of working late to avoid going to Rita’s when the Inner Circle had invited him. The only ones to stand with him in the corner of the crowded living room during Winter Solstice. They were the darkness that finally covered the mirror in Azriel’s bedroom when he’d spent too long standing before it, glaring daggers at the reflection of his scarred hands.

His shadows were only entities who understood his internal plea for a mate. For someone to love him in the way his brothers got to experience with their mates. A female whose warm embrace he could find comfort in at the end of the day, whose laughter would brighten the dull space within him, and whose heart would sing to his in a sacred bond. That is what he found in you, and he was thrilled.

By extension, so were his shadows, which is why you came downstairs this morning to find a cookbook flipped to a raspberry pastry recipe layed out on the counter.

“So they heard us talking last night. And you were worried it’d be too soon for you to propose to accept the bond.” Cassian grinned when he walked in behind you, a mug of tea appearing before him. “You could just have the house make it for you.”

“Yeah, but I think the gesture would be more personal if I made them myself.” You glanced at the shadows, who were mashing a bowl of raspberries and sugar into a thick filling. “I think they wanted to help. They did go through the trouble of pointing out Azriel’s favorite dessert to me, after all.”

You began to hum softly while kneading the dough, absently watching the purple sunrise crest the mountain tops through the window. Rhys already had the cabin set up for you and Az, a shiver of anticipation running up your spine at the thought. Delicious possibilities for the next two weeks flashed through your mind, biting your bottom lip to prevent the smirk from breaking through. Until—

“Ow!” Cassian stumbled back, clutching his pinky. “One of those bastards bit me… or scratched me. Or whatever the hell they do.”

You laughed, pushing past the pouting general to fill the pastry shells and place them in the oven. “They’re not yours Cass.”

“I just wanted a taste of the filling.” He crossed his arms.

“If there’s any left, you’re welcome to them. Now I’ve got to set up. Az will be home soon.”

Cassian lingered, a smug expression plastered across his features. He open his mouth, no doubt aiming to utter a vulgar comment, when the Shadows shut the door in his face.

…

Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever flown so quickly in his life, or that a three day mission to the Autumn court could feel so gut wrenching. Every moment that he was away from you left his soul aching, the golden tether pulling unbearably tight and demanding your closeness. He missed it all; your scent, your touch, your smile. His body practically vibrated by the time he landed on the balcony of the House of Wind and his stray shadows met him at the door.

“Love?” He called out, scanning the interior of the sitting room. Azriel furrowed a brow when his shadows began drifting towards the kitchen, seemingly gesturing for him to follow them there. “Are you—“

Azriel’s words died in his throat and he halted where he stood. Auburn rose petals, courtesy of his shadows, created a path to where you stood, holding a tray of the pastries that would seal both of your fates.

“Azriel… will you be my mate?” Your voice was so soft, as if you’d be concerned that he’d respond with anything less than a resounding yes, and the hope shining in your eyes nearly made him fall to his knees.

The Shadowsinger walked towards you on shaking legs, raising a palm to cradle your cheek. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

[brittle-doughie]

Downstream Part 2: Frigid Lies

The cards come tumbling down

[Part 1]

“And with just a little ingenuity…”

You snapped the rocks together to form enough of a spark to light your fire, Affogato Cookie’s eyes widen as the fire roared amidst the wood.

“You have yourself a strong fire that will get you through the night.”

“Why give it so much effort when I could simply create a fire with my magic. It would save you the trouble..”

“You can use fire spells?”

“Well, I…..”

You gave him a look as Affogato immediately surrendered.

“I don’t.”

“If you want to help me next time, I can give you a hands-on lesson on how to make a fire like I do! It can go a long way to ensure you last out here in the snowy tundras.”

“A hands-on lesson?”

“Yeah, y’know. I put my hands over yours and I direct you on what to do!”

Just imagining your more firm, stronger hands over his made his face flush as he tries to hide it from you.

“O-oh, I am…well aware of what that term entails. I am simply asking if it’s necessary.”

“Are you saying you can handle it on your own?”

“Yes, yes. I can assure you that I can start a fire on my own.”

He takes the rocks from you and gathered leftover sticks and leaves into a pile before trying to replicate what you did. With obvious results.

His form was hampered, he wasn’t placing enough force between the rocks to get that spark going, and he wasn’t holding them firmly enough to begin with.

You creeped behind him and reached forward, holding your hands on top of his as you grip the rocks. This catches him off guard as his face darkened with blush.

“Let me show you how to do it.”

“Spare me the words, I could’ve handle it on my own.”

“Yeah, right. Here.”

You let go at just the right moment for Affogato Cookie to place enough force between the rocks to get a spark going and ignite his pile.

“See? Nothing too difficult for me to handle~”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Affogato. Come on, these rations aren’t going to cook themselves!”

—————————————————

As night approaches, the two of you sit near your fires as you heated your cacao nibs porridge while Affogato preferred what you made for him back at the cabin, a fine serving of rainbow jellies.

He looked away from his meal to look at you, you were gazing at your bowl of porridge with a look of content and….a hint of longing.

“You’ve packed much better than what you have, yet you insist on eating…that.”

“Well, I guess a part of me still misses my time at the Dark Cacao Kingdom. Heh, as much as these things are hardly enough to sustain me long term, they just..bring back my memories serving as the Eighth Watcher.”

“But why look back on a kingdom that’s long turned their back on you? They talk of loyalty, yet showed none for you when they casted you out.”

“Maybe I’ll never know the extent of what I had done to get myself banished, but I respect my King’s decision nonetheless. However unfortunate, he wouldn’t want me to give up so easily and that’s what I plan to do. No matter what, I’ll continue to watch over these snowy lands as the Cookie of the Ridge, from what the locals call me.”

“Eh…..”

He remembers that day, a memory he once looked back on with pride was now a memory he wished he could forget with how things are now.

And with that memory came too his paranoia again.

The Dark Cacao Kingdom will have reorganized and with that will come the possible search parties that will track you down to bring you back. And if he’s with you, an added bonus that the kingdom will charge him for his crimes against them.

He did NOT want to see that come to fruition, especially if that pest was going to be there to personally see him off to the dungeons.

He had to keep the front up. It was either you found out, which was soon. Or the kingdom finds you two, which would be way later.

The choice was clear to him.

“Well, shame on them. Really! They wouldn’t know what a more loyal Cookie looked like if it walked right in front of them!”

“It’s okay, Affogato. I’ve come to accept my circumstances now, but…”

You turn to him with a smile.

“I appreciate you trying to lift up my spirits. Truly.”

“Well, I am simply stating the facts. You are a Cookie that was undeserving of your treatment by that kingdom. You’re better off without them.”

You looked up at the moon in the night sky.

“I wish them nothing but the best.”

—————————————————

You were not alone in your moon watching. Somewhere in the forest, another Cookie was watching the moon from her campsite.

“It’s been a while since I’ve set out on my search, is it even possible to find them here at this rate? Are they even still among these snowy lands?”

Caramel Arrow Cookie was sat in front of her fire, hugging her legs as she looked down at the flame. The more time that went by without progress was time that her worries grew.

She didn’t want to think of the worst. You were a Watcher, being able to live off the land was what you were trained to do. Even so, just where could you be? Were you..hiding from her? That can’t be right, you two were anything but distant back at the kingdom.

She catches herself slightly smiling as she thinks back to those times, where the two of you would spar in the training grounds or when the two of you would go out on missions together to aid the nearby villages.

It really felt like that you were her other half that she didn’t think she could ever be apart with, which only made this mission to look for you all the more dear to her.

She wanted those times back.

She wanted those missions together again.

She was not going to give up!

With a determined look, she stood up and looked at the moon with a clenched fist to her chest.

“No! I won’t give up! No matter what! Y/N Cookie never gave up on me before, so I shouldn’t either!”

And then, as if fate had finally allowed it, she looked down at her surroundings and can faintly make out two smoke stacks in the far distance as she narrows her eyes at them.

“A sign? I have to take it! Hang on, Y/N Cookie. Coming to you.”

She clears out her fire and grabs her things before sliding down the snow hill and hurrying to the direction of the smoke stacks.!

This was it. It had to be!

—————————————————

You and Affogato Cookie were sharing a laugh about another one of your silly little adventures out in the snow when you noticed that both fires were start to wear down and you’re out of firewood.

“Ah! Looks like we’re out of wood.”

“Hmm, it seems so.”

“I’ll be right back with more, don’t get the chills before I return!”

“Please, I’ve never felt warmer, hehe~”

You laughed off his remark as you got your axe and headed out to get some more firewood, leaving Affogato to look into the small fire that was left. With him alone, he felt like this was an opportunity to try to alleviate some of the guilt he was hanging onto.

—————————————————

Caramel Arrow Cookie was coming up on the smoke stacks when a voice makes stop before a bush, she remained still as she listened in.

“Look, I didn’t mean to have this happen to you, it was just misfortune circumstances!”

“No, no…uh, it was a simple mistake. I had not intentionally tried to hurt you…”

“It’s not my fault, simply it was how they managed things in the Dark Cacao Kingdom!”

Caramel Arrow Cookie rolled her eyes as she recognized the voice to be Affogato Cookie’s. He can stay out of the kingdom for all she cared, but what was he even talking about with his-

“Things can work out, Y/N Cookie. If you’re willing to try…”

It was like something snapped in her mind.

He did it….

It all made sense now…

She was not the first to be sent away…

And now here he was, feeding and poisoning you the same way he had done to her King….

Was he the reason you didn’t come back?

Did he mention her?

Was he trying to drive a wedge between you and her?

No….

No no no……

She won’t allow it, she can’t allow that SNAKE to take away someone she held dear as she readied her bow….

—————————————————

Affogato Cookie was standing at the porch to your cabin home, the two fires having since been put out as he watches the snow fall.

He watch the individual bits of snow fall onto the ground softly as he sighs. He knew that it was only a matter of time before you discovered who he really was, he didn’t know what you would do if you did.

Kick him out to fend for himself?

Personally execute him yourself?

Understand him?

Welcome him still?

He doesn’t like to look back fondly about the past, when you were only just another Watcher. Oh, how wrong he would end up being after your time together with him…

It was only a matter of time…

Should he wait until you found out?

Or maybe…he should just confess himself? Would you hate him less for that?

All he could do know was try to lighten up the guilt by confessing to the fire-

*CRACK!*

“GAH!”

An arrow had struck the wooden beam of the cabin mere inches from his head, shocking Affogato Cookie as he stumbled to the side.

Another arrow is shot, but he manages to conjure a shield to block it.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

“I knew it was you…”

A growling voice replied back as Affogato’s attacker emerged from the snowy trees.

“AFFOGATO COOKIE!”

“Caramel Arrow Cookie?!”

He stumbled back against the door to the cabin as Caramel Arrow Cookie slowly approached him, her eyes blazing with anger as she drew another arrow.!

“Y-you found me already?!”

“Already?! Do you know how long I’ve spent trying to look for the Cookie I held dear the most only to see you here?! And just what were you talking about it being a simple mistake? I should’ve known I wasn’t the first, that it was YOU that did this!”

“N-now, now! If you just give me a moment to explain-SUBMIT!”

Affogato Cookie quickly shot a spell at Caramel Arrow, but she simply dodged to the side and shot her drawn arrow at him, which knocks his staff out of his hand.

He goes to reach for it, but Caramel Arrow beats him to it by kicking the staff off further away.’

“It’s over! Now you’re going to tell me where is Y/N Cookie.”

“I don’t know what you’re-“

She grabs his outfit and gets him against the cabin wall, not having any more of his nonsense.

“WHERE ARE THEY?! WHERE IS Y/N COOKIE?!”

“T-they-“

“Alright, Affogato Cookie. I’m back with the fire…wood?”

You had come back from the forest, ready to keep the fire going only to see Caramel Arrow Cookie having Affogato against your cabin wall, the both of them looking at you wide-eyed.

“Caramel Arrow Cookie?”

“Y-Y/N Cookie?”

“Oh dear….”

[to-the-beginning--the-end-waits]

Unexpected Delivery

Summary: When a simple lunch delivery to the royal palace goes hilariously wrong. You, a baker’s daughter find yourself accidentally hired as the Crown Prince’s personal assistant.

Fandom: ATEEZ

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader

Genre: Royal AU, Fluff, Comedy, Romance

Word count: 4.2k~

Warnings: None. Fluff and romantic tension

A/N: I prefer General!Seonghwa over Prince!Seonghwa anyday but the thought of silver haired prince seonghwa is so yum 🤤 Also I noticed that I made a plot hole while re-checking today and nearly got aneurysm trying to correct it if there is a mistake blame it on that 😔✊

“No- Your Highness, there must have been a mistake. I’m just here to drop off the royal tailor’s lunch.”

Seonghwa blinks at you over a stack of letters that towers precariously on his mahogany desk. There’s something suspiciously relieved in his expression when he sees your face. Dark circles shadow his eyes, and his usually pristine hair has a rebellious strand falling across his forehead. “Excellent. I urgently need someone who knows how to say ‘no’ to me.” he smirked.

You clutch the wrapped lunch tighter, taking a cautious step backward. The Crown Prince’s study is intimidatingly grand; floor to ceiling bookshelves, oil paintings of stern ancestors, and enough gold trim to fund a small village. You definitely don’t belong here.

“I… what?”

“My assistant quit yesterday,” Seonghwa continues, quite aware to your growing panic but acting oblivious. He gestures at the chaos surrounding him. Scrolls unfurled across every surface, inkwells precariously balanced on stacks of documents, and what appears to a half eaten scone that might be older than some of the treaties on his desk.

“Something about ‘excessive pressure’ and ‘inhuman expectations.’ Quite dramatic, really.”

“Your Highness, I think you have me mistaken with someone else-”

“No way. Mistake is something I don't need right now.” He stands abruptly, and you’re struck by how tall he is, how his shoulders seem to carry the weight of the entire kingdom. “The Council expects a response to the Trade Agreement by noon, I have a ceremonial sword blessing at two, and somewhere in this mess is a very important letter from the Northern Duchy that I absolutely cannot lose.”

You stare at him. He stares back with an expression of such hopeful desperation that your heart does a tiny, traitorous flutter.

“I’m- I don't think I am qualified for this,” you say weakly.

“Neither am I, most days.” Seonghwa’s smile is tired but genuine. “What’s your name?”

You tell him, and the way he repeats it, carefully, like he’s memorizing the syllables makes your cheeks warm.

“Well then,” he says, “shall we pretend we both know what we’re doing?”

Somehow, you find yourself seated at a smaller desk that’s been hastily cleared of its mountain of correspondence. The lunch sits forgotten on a side table, probably wondering why it’s been abandoned for royal bureaucracy.

“The trick,” Seonghwa explains, settling back into his chair with considerably more grace than anyone dealing with governmental chaos should possess, “is to look confident while having absolutely no idea what’s happening.”

“Is that how you’ve been managing this whole prince thing?”

The question slips out before you can stop it, and you immediately want to crawl under the desk. You just essentially insulted the Crown Prince. They probably have dungeons for this sort of thing.

But Seonghwa laughs. A sincere laugh, not the polite chuckle used in ceremonies. “You catch on quickly. No wonder they sent you.”

“They didn’t send me, I’m just-”

“Could you help me with something?” He interrupts, and there’s something almost shy in his expression. “I have this ceremony in an hour or so, but I can never tell if my crown is sitting properly. The royal mirror is positioned terribly, and my last assistant always said it looked fine even when it was practically sliding off my head.”

Your heart hammers as he retrieves an elegant gold crown from its velvet case. It’s beautiful, delicate engravings of stars and moons, small gems that catch the light like captured starfire.

“I feel ridiculous asking,” he admits, “but could you…?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. When he places the crown on his head and turns toward you, you forget how to breathe. The afternoon light streaming through the tall windows catches in his silver hair, and his eyes hold a vulnerability you never expected to see.

The crown is indeed crooked, tilted slightly to the left.

“May I?” you whisper.

He nods.

Your fingers are trembling as you reach up to adjust it. You have to step closer, close enough to catch the subtle scent of patchouli and something uniquely him. His breath hitches slightly when your knuckles brush against his hair.

“There,” you murmur, your hands lingering perhaps a moment too long. “Perfect.”

When you meet his eyes, the world seems to slow. He’s looking at you like you’ve just solved every problem in the kingdom, like you’re something precious and unexpected. His lips part slightly, and for a single moment, you think-

A knock at the door shatters the moment. You spring backward so quickly you nearly knock over an inkwell.

“Your Highness?” A voice calls. “The Council is ready for your response regarding the trade agreement.”

Seonghwa blinks, seemingly dazed. “Yes, of course. One moment.”

He turns to you, and there’s something different in his expression now, warmer and softer. “Would you… would you mind staying? Just until I sort through this mess. I know you weren’t planning on this, but-”

“Okay,” you say, surprising yourself. “I’ll stay.”

His smile could power the entire palace.

After a while, you’ve somehow helped organize half his correspondence, located the missing Northern Duchy letter -it was being used as a bookmark in a poetry collection book-, and discovered that the Crown Prince has an alarming tendency to forget to eat when stressed.

“When did you last have a proper meal, Your Highness?” you ask, watching him squint at a particularly dense diplomatic document.

“Tuesday?” he ventures.

“It’s Thursday.”

“Ah.” He has the grace to look sheepish. “Time becomes rather fluid when you’re reading seventeen different proposals for grain taxation reform.”

You retrieve the forgotten lunch from the side table. “Here. The tailor will understand.”

“I can’t take someone else’s meal-”

“Your Highness.” You use your sternest voice, the one usually reserved for stubborn customers at your family’s bakery. “Eat.”

He blinks at you in surprise, then obediently unwraps the lunch. You try not to stare at the way his face lights up at the simple meal of bread, cheese, and fruit.

“No one’s spoken to me like that in years,” he says between bites.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a person instead of a title.”

Your heart does that fluttering thing again. “Well, you are a person. A person who needs to eat regularly and sleep more than four hours a night.”

“How did you-”

“Your Highness, you have ink stains on three different fingers, your tie has been tied incorrectly all day, and you’ve been unconsciously rubbing your temples every few minutes. You’re exhausted.”

Seonghwa stares at you with something like wonder. “You notice things.”

“It’s hard not to when you’re-” You catch yourself before you can say something embarrassing like ‘when you’re incredibly, amazingly pretty and I've been admiring you from afar.’

“When I’m what?”

“When you’re… very obvious about it,” you finish lamely.

He grins, and it transforms his entire face. “I’ll have to work on my royal ambiguity.”

“Please don’t. It’s refreshing, actually. The honesty.”

Something shifts in his expression, becomes more intent. “Is it?”

Before you can analyze the weight in his voice, another knock interrupts. This time, it’s his valet.

“Your Highness, the ceremonial sword blessing-”

“Right.” Seonghwa sighs, straightening his shoulders as he transforms back into Crown Prince mode. But when he looks at you, the mask slips slightly. “Will you… that is, would you be willing to continue this arrangement? Temporarily, of course. Just until I can find a proper replacement.”

You should say no. You should explain the misunderstanding, return to your normal life, and pretend this strange, wonderful afternoon never happened.

Instead, you nod.

“Excellent.” His smile is radiant. “I’ll have a room prepared for you immediately.”

“Room? Oh no, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Nonsense. If you’re to be my assistant, you’ll need to be available for early morning briefings and late evening correspondence reviews. It’s only practical.”

Your mouth opens and closes soundlessly. You’ve somehow gone from a bakery worker to living in the palace in the span of a single afternoon by simply delivering lunch for a favor.

“Don’t look so terrified,” Seonghwa says gently. “I promise the dungeons are only for people who steal the good dinner rolls.”

Despite everything, you laugh. “How did you know I was thinking about dungeons?”

“Lucky guess..?” He pauses at the door, crown now perfectly straight and posture regally composed. But his eyes are warm when they meet yours. “Thank you. For today. For… staying.”

After he leaves, you sink into the chair and stare at the organized desk, the neat stacks of correspondence, the empty lunch wrapping.

What have you gotten yourself into?

After waiting for your background check to be finished, you're finally escorted to your room.

Your assigned quarters are roughly the size of your family’s entire bakery. The bed alone could fit four people comfortably, and there’s a sitting area with windows overlooking the palace gardens. It’s beautiful and terrifying and completely surreal.

A soft knock interrupts your attempts to process the day’s events.

“Come in?”

To your surprise, it’s Seonghwa. He’s changed from his formal attire into simpler clothes. Dark trousers and a white shirt that somehow makes him look younger, more approachable even though his looks come not from his clothing but his regal beauty.

“I wanted to apologize,” he says, hovering uncertainly in the doorway. “I rather steamrolled you into this arrangement. If you’re uncomfortable-”

“It’s not that.” You gesture for him to come in, and he perches carefully on the edge of a chair like he’s afraid of imposing. “I just… I’m not actually qualified to be anyone’s assistant, let alone yours. I work at my family’s bakery. I have no training in diplomacy or protocol or any of the things you probably need.”

“Can you read?”

“Yes, but-”

“Can you write legibly?”

“Well, yes-”

“Do you have opinions about things?”

You blink. “Opinions?”

“Everyone in the palace agrees with everything I say,” Seonghwa explains, running a hand through his hair. “It’s maddening. I could declare that purple should be the official color of vegetables and they’d all nod sagely and praise my innovative thinking.”

“You cannot assign vegetables a color. Even if you did it would be definitely green, not purple.” you say scrunching your face.

“Exactly!” His face lights up. “You see? Perfect assistant material.”

You can’t help but smile. “This is insane.”

“Most of the best things are.” He pauses, and something vulnerable flickers in his expression. “Will you... try it? Just for a few days. If you hate it, I’ll personally escort you back to your bakery with a formal apology and enough gold to make up for the inconvenience.”

The smart thing would be to decline politely and leave now, before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. Before you fall any harder for a prince who’s completely out of your reach.

But when you look at him -really look at him- you see past the crown and the title to the person underneath. Someone who’s lonely and overworked and genuinely grateful for the smallest kindness.

Someone who laughed at your terrible jokes and trusted you to fix his crown.

“Okay,” you hear yourself say. “I’ll try.”

You can bet on anything that his smile is brighter than any jewel in the royal treasury.

The next morning arrives with a gentle knock and a maid carrying what appears to be enough breakfast to feed a small army.

“Compliments of His Highness,” she explains, setting the elaborate spread on your sitting room table. “He thought you might prefer to eat privately while you settle in.”

Thoughtful. You’re beginning to understand that beneath all the royal protocol, Seonghwa is simply… considerate.

You’re attempting to decide between three different types of pastry when another knock sounds. This time, it’s the man himself, looking impeccable despite the early hour.

“Good morning,” he says, and there’s something almost shy about it. “I hope you slept well.”

“Like a rock. That bed is magic.”

“Wait until you try the library chairs. I’ve lost entire afternoons to their evil comfort.” He glances at the breakfast spread and frowns. “This is excessive. I specifically asked for something simple.”

“The kitchen staff might have a different definition of ‘simple’ than normal people.”

“Normal people,” he repeats thoughtfully. “I like that phrase. May I join you? My own breakfast is a formal affair in the dining hall, and I’d much rather have a normal person breakfast.”

You gesture to the abundance of food. “There’s certainly enough.”

He settles across from you with visible relief, immediately reaching for what appears to be a perfectly ordinary piece of toast. The domesticity of it, sharing breakfast and watching him relax, feels dangerously intimate.

“So,” you say, searching for safe conversation, “what disasters await us today?”

“Oh, the usual. Three diplomatic meetings, a review of the royal gardens’ budget, and a very tense discussion about whether the autumn festival should feature dancing or theatrical performances.”

“Both?”

“I suggested that yesterday. Apparently, it would ‘set a concerning precedent for future festivals.’” He shakes his head. “Sometimes I think they create problems just to have something to debate.”

“What do you want the festival to have?”

He pauses, piece of toast halfway to his mouth. “What do I want?”

“It’s your kingdom, isn’t it? What would make you happy?”

Seonghwa stares at you like you’ve asked him to solve an ancient riddle. “I… no one’s ever asked me that before. About what would make me happy.”

Your heart clenches. “Well, I’m asking now.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, and you can practically see him thinking through possibilities he’s never been allowed to consider.

“Music,” he says finally. “I’d want music. Not just the formal court musicians, but… street performers, local bands, anyone who wanted to play. And food stalls run by actual families from the kingdom, not the palace kitchens. And games for children, and dancing for anyone who felt like it, not just the nobility.”

His eyes are bright with enthusiasm, and you find yourself smiling. “That sounds wonderful.”

“It sounds chaos to the Council.”

“Sometimes chaos is exactly what people need.”

“Is that your professional assistant opinion?”

“That’s my normal person opinion.” You lean forward slightly. “Your Highness, what if we presented it differently? Not as chaos, but as… connecting with your people. Understanding their culture. Being a prince who cares about everyone in the kingdom, not just the nobles.”

Seonghwa sets down his toast entirely, giving you his full attention. “Go on.”

“Well, festivals are about celebration, right? Joy. What better way to show strong leadership than by creating something that brings genuine happiness to your people? The Council can debate protocol all they want, but it’s hard to argue against joy.”

For a moment, he just stares at you. Then he starts to laugh. That real, unguarded sound you heard yesterday.

“You’re brilliant,” he says, and the warm admiration in his voice makes your stomach flip. “Absolutely brilliant. Will you come with me to the Council meeting?”

“Oh no. No, no, no. I can offer opinions over breakfast, but I can’t face the royal Council-”

“Please.” He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing yours. “I need someone in that room who remembers that I’m supposed to serve the people, not just manage them. I'll handle the council.”

The touch of his hand sends electricity up your arm, and when you meet his eyes, there’s something there that makes your breath catch. Something warm and wondering and impossibly fond.

“Okay,” you whisper, because apparently you’re incapable of saying no to anything when he looks at you like that.

His smile could outshine the sun.

The Council meeting is every bit as intimidating as you expected. Twelve stern faced advisors seated around a massive oak table, all of whom seem personally offended by your presence.

“Your Highness,” the head councilor says with barely concealed disdain, “perhaps your… assistant… would be more comfortable waiting outside.”

“She stays,” Seonghwa says firmly, and the quiet authority in his voice makes something flutter in your chest. “Her insights have been invaluable.”

You try to make yourself invisible in your chair beside his, taking notes and pretending you can’t feel the councilors’ disapproving stares.

The festival debate unfolds exactly as Seonghwa predicted; lots of discussion about precedent and protocol, very little about what might actually benefit the kingdom. When he presents his vision using the framework you suggested, you can see several councilors wavering.

“It’s… unconventional,” admits the Minister of Cultural Affairs.

“Unconventional isn’t necessarily problematic,” Seonghwa replies smoothly. “Some of our most beloved traditions started as innovations.”

“But the security concerns-”

“Can be managed with proper planning.”

“And the budget-”

“Will likely be offset by increased merchant participation and tourism.”

You watch him navigate each objection with growing admiration. He’s brilliant at this, when he’s passionate about something. When he’s fighting for what he believes in rather than just managing what’s expected.

The head councilor drums his fingers on the table. The Council only agreed after a tense hours long debate.

"We’ll need a detailed proposal.”

“Of course.” Seonghwa glances at you, something almost playful in his expression. “My assistant and I will have it ready by tomorrow.”

After the meeting, you practically float back to his study.

“Did we just win that?” you ask.

“We did indeed.” Seonghwa grins, loosening his formal jacket with obvious relief. “Though now we actually have to create a detailed proposal by tomorrow.”

“We?”

“Well, it was your idea. Brilliant strategy, by the way, framing it as connection rather than chaos.”

You feel yourself blushing. “I just said what made sense.”

“Exactly. You cut through all the political posturing and found the heart of it.” He pauses, studying your face with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. “You’re remarkable, you know that?”

The compliment hits you like a physical thing, warm and overwhelming. “I’m really not-”

“You are.” He steps closer, and suddenly the study feels much smaller. “You see possibilities where others see problems. You remind me why I wanted to do this job in the first place.”

Your heart is hammering so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. “Seonghwa-”

The use of his name without the title makes him go very still. For a moment, you think you’ve overstepped, broken some crucial protocol.

Then he smiles, soft and wondering. “Say it again.”

“Your Highness-”

“No. My name.”

“Seonghwa,” you whisper, and his eyes flutter closed like you’ve given him something precious.

When he opens them again, there’s something raw and hopeful in his expression. He takes another step closer, close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes.

“I should tell you,” he says quietly, “that I’ve never enjoyed anyone’s company the way I enjoy yours.”

Your breath catches. “Seonghwa…”

“And I should probably also tell you that I’ve been thinking about yesterday afternoon. About when you fixed my crown.” His voice drops even lower. “About how you looked at me like I was just… me.”

The space between you feels charged, electric. You can see the exact moment he decides to be brave, can see him start to lean forward-

And then the door bursts open.

“Your Highness, there’s been a development with the Northern- Oh.” The secretary stops short, taking in the scene with wide eyes. “I… should I return later?”

Seonghwa steps back so quickly he nearly trips over his own feet. “No, that’s… what’s the development?”

You use the interruption to retreat to your desk, heart still racing. But when you glance up, Seonghwa is looking at you with such soft longing that your breath catches all over again.

This is getting dangerous. Wonderfully, terrifyingly dangerous.

The festival proposal takes shape over the next several hours, with the two of you working in surprisingly seamless collaboration. Seonghwa handles the diplomatic language and budget considerations while you focus on logistics and community engagement.

“What about here?” you suggest, pointing to a section about local artisan participation. “We could create a special showcase area for traditional crafts.”

“Perfect.” He leans over to see what you’re indicating, close enough that his shoulder brushes yours. “You have lovely handwriting, by the way.”

Such a simple comment shouldn’t make you feel like you’re glowing, but somehow it does. “Thank you.”

“No, really. It’s… graceful. Like you.”

You look up sharply, and he’s right there, closer than you realized. Close enough to see the way his pupils dilate slightly, close enough to catch the subtle hitch in his breathing.

“Seonghwa,” you whisper, not sure if it’s a warning or an invitation.

He reaches up slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is feather-light, reverent.

“Is this all right?” he asks softly.

You nod, not trusting your voice.

His thumb traces along your cheekbone, and you let your eyes flutter closed. This is madness. You’re a baker’s daughter and he’s the Crown Prince, but in this moment, with his gentle touch and the afternoon light streaming around you both, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“I should tell you something,” he murmurs.

“What?”

“I knew.”

Your eyes snap open. “Knew what?”

“When you came to deliver lunch.” His smile is soft, almost shy. “I knew you weren’t the new assistant. The real candidate wasn’t supposed to arrive until next week.”

Your mouth falls open. “You knew? Then why did you-?”

“Because you were the first person in months to look at me like I was human instead of a title. Because when I made that ridiculous comment about needing someone to say no to me, you looked like you might actually be brave enough to do it.” His thumb is still tracing gentle patterns on your cheek. “And because I’ve been watching you at events for the better part of a year, hoping for an excuse to talk to you.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“Trying to work up the courage to approach you, more like. Do you know how many times I’ve walked past your family’s booth at the market? How many excuses I’ve invented to attend events where you might be helping with the catering?”

Your heart is doing something complicated and wonderful in your chest. “Seonghwa…”

“I know this is complicated,” he says quickly. “I know there are protocols and expectations and a dozen reasons why this is probably a terrible idea. But I-”

You silence him by rising up on your toes and pressing your lips to his.

It’s soft and sweet and perfect, tasting like the tea you’ve been sharing and the promise of something extraordinary. When you pull back, he’s staring at you with such wonder that you feel like you could conquer kingdoms.

“For someone who is supposed to be good with words,” you murmur, “you certainly talk too much sometimes.”

He laughs, bright and joyful, and kisses you again.

The festival proposal is a complete success. The Council approves it unanimously, the people are thrilled, and somehow you’ve managed to revolutionize royal event planning while falling completely in love with a prince.

Three weeks later, you’re standing in the gardens at sunset, watching Seonghwa practice his opening speech for the festival. He’s nervous -adorably so- running his hands through his hair and muttering about crowd expectations.

“You know,” you say, stepping closer, “you could always just speak from the heart.”

“The heart doesn’t follow protocol.”

“Because it doesn’t need to.” You reach up to straighten his collar, smiling at the way he immediately relaxes under your touch. “Your people love you, Seonghwa. Not because you’re perfect, but because you care about them. Let them see that.”

He catches your hands, pressing them flat against his chest. “How do you always know exactly what I need to hear?”

“Lucky guess..?”

“I love you,” he says suddenly, the words tumbling out like he can’t hold them back any longer. “I know it’s complicated and probably terrifying and definitely against several royal protocols, but I love you. I love your terrible jokes and your practical solutions and the way you make me remember who I am underneath all the expectations.”

Your heart swells until you think it might burst. “I love you too. Even if you do have a concerning habit of making impulsive royal decisions.”

“Only the good kind of impulsive decisions.”

“Is that what I am? A good impulsive decision?”

He suddenly picks you up and spins you around, laughing as your feet leave the ground. “You’re the best decision I’ve ever made.”

When he sets you down, you’re both breathless and grinning.

“So,” you say, straightening his crown with familiar ease, “what happens now?”

“Now we revolutionize the kingdom one festival at a time,” Seonghwa says, leaning down to kiss you softly. “And maybe figure out how to explain to the Council that their prince has fallen in love with his wonderfully unqualified assistant.”

“Fake assistant,” you correct.

“Best fake assistant in the kingdom.”

You laugh, and he spins you around again, and in the golden light of the setting sun, with the promise of tomorrow’s festival and a lifetime of adventures ahead, everything feels perfect.

The End

[colorfulrook]

"Arise," Jinwoo's tone was cold as he looked over the corpses of the monsters in the dungeon. The creatures stared back, their auras buzzing in confusion as to why their new master was still angered despite having just won the battle.

"My liege, none of these servants know the location of our beloved queen," murmured Beru. He could feel that his Monarch's restlessness was starting to take a toll.

It had been one week since you disappeared, one week since Jinwoo felt that the shadows he left with you were torn away, leaving him unable to reach you instantly. The dungeon that you were supposed to clear with your party was nowhere to be found, leaving not only Jinwoo but your guild master in a state of alarm.

Jinwoo's gaze lingered on the ring on his finger. His desperation to find you was becoming more and more frustrating, and the old feeling of not being strong enough was threatening to emerge once again, angering him.

"Beru, Igris, remain here until the dungeon closes. Scout the whole area. If there is anything that could help us find her, bring it to me," commanded the hunter as he walked away, Bellion following after.

"My lord, I suspect the other monarchs are behind it. Finding her won't be easy, nor will seeing the state she will be in," the wise shadow spoke. While it was true that you were strong enough to take care of yourself, no one could tell what you were enduring if you were indeed at the mercy of their enemies, especially the monarchs.

"After I find (Y/n), there won't be any monarch to worry about. That much you can be sure of," assured Jinwoo before pausing outside the dungeon. Cold eyes stilled on the single corpse on the ground. Shadows rapidly dispatched around him as he looked for any kind of threat, only to be met with the silent mockery that was the abandoned body in front of him.

The state of it—ravaged and mangled almost beyond recognition—made his breath hitch in his throat. Dread crept up his spine as he searched for any signs of you. A strange sense of relief washed over him. The body wasn't yours, but that of a mage who had been in your party the day you disappeared. Soyee was her name, if he remembered correctly.

Beru returned by his side after flying around the zone.

"My liege, there are no signs of enemies nearby. Whoever left this body is not here anymore. I am truly sorry," the ant kneeled and examined the body.

"Do not worry, Beru," comforted his king, his gaze fixed on the blue notification above the corpse. "Hunter Soyee is going to help us find her... Arise."

---

blurted out words again while i was waiting for my train, I will revise and correct the error as I read it again, love you all <3 - Rook

I was also thinking about opening requests, to have the possibility to expand and improve my writing, so let me know if you'd all like that!

[ashwhowrites]

I love your fics. I love the way you portray Eddie, it feels like he was plucked straight from the show. I was hoping you could do an angsty request if you’re up for it. Reader is Dustin’s sister and she’s the one to introduce him to Eddie, her boyfriend, wherein Dustin becomes Eddie’s bestie. And the two unintentionally leave Reader behind as they bond and constantly leave Reader out which mega sucks. Both boys make it up to Reader in their own way. Thank you so much!

Oh thank you 🥹 I'm very honored you love the way I write Eddie. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it!!

Sister's boyfriend

"HE'S HERE!" Y/N yelled, Dustin, jumping as she ran down the hall. Dustin slipped out of his room, looking down the hallway as she fixed her hair in the mirror.

Tonight Y/N was bringing her boyfriend to dinner, and it would be the first time Dustin was meeting him. He wasn't interested but Y/N told him it would be rude to ignore their guest.

Y/N took a deep breath and opened the door, Eddie stood with a smile.

"Hi, baby," he greeted, leaning in and leaving a slow and soft kiss on Y/N's lips. She felt her face heat up as she kissed him back. She loved kissing Eddie; he was always soft and took her breath away.

Dustin coughed from behind, making the couple pull away. Y/N looked over her shoulder with a glare.

"Mom had an appointment but I made dinner for us three. Eddie, this is my little brother Dustin. Dustin, this is Eddie," Y/N said with a dreamy smile on her face.

Eddie stepped into the house, chain clicking as his heavy boots hit the floor. He reached out his hand, fingers covered in rings, and wrists covered in bracelets.

Dustin smiled and shook his hand.

~

"So, Eddie. You're in a band?" Dustin asked, cutting his chicken as he shoved a piece into his mouth. "Wh-gs- th-fqt-like?"

Y/N gave Dustin a slight kick under the table as he talked with his mouthful.

"It's amazing. I get to play with my boys, write music I like and helps with the girls," Eddie winked towards Y/N. She rolled her eyes but a smile was clear across her face.

"What do you like to do in your free time?" Dustin asked, pushing his plate to the side.

Eddie gave a sly look over to Y/N but she already was shaking her head. She knew exactly what dumb sex joke he was about to make.

"Well, I'm a dungeon master so I spent most time with campaigns," Eddie explained.

"WAIT!" Dustin yelled, excitedly. He sat up straight, "you play Dungeons and Dragons?"

~~~

Ever since that dinner, Dustin took a huge liking to Eddie. At first, Y/N adored how much Eddie and Dustin got along. Dustin asked to join some dates and Y/N didn't have the heart to say no. So, she let him tag along. There weren't any problems, but that didn't last long.

She felt dumb for being upset about it but Dustin and Eddie were becoming too close. It was getting to the point where she was being pushed aside. It was her boyfriend but yet she was stuck as the third wheel.

~

"So, I was thinking we should check out the festival this weekend? Has games, music and food. We could camp and have some fun in the tent," Eddie whispered, leaning down to whisper in Y/N's ear. His lips softly kissed her neck.

She melted as his kiss warmed her skin. "I'd love it," she turned her head to press her lips against his. But the moment was quick to be interrupted.

"Eddie!" Dustin called as he ran through the house. He welcomed himself into her bedroom, causing the couple to separate. Eddie sat up on the bed with a smile.

"What's up, kid?"

"New video game! Living room in five minutes!" He said and ran back out.

"Sick!" Eddie said, jumping up from the bed but Y/N grabbed his hand.

"Hold on, what about me?" Y/N asked.

"Come watch us, you know you're my good luck charm," Eddie smiled. Y/N shrugged and followed him out.

She quickly learned she wasn't any sort of charm to Eddie. He and Dustin were screaming and banging on the controllers. They were so lost in their game that they barely acknowledged she was there.

"It's getting a little late, Eddie do you want to maybe head to my room to watch a movie?" She asked, looking at the clock. She sighed as she realized the boys had been playing for five hours.

"Yeah, babe. Be right there, after this round," he said but his eyes stayed on the screen. She stood up and accepted his answer.

"Dustin, remember to get to bed for school."

Dustin gave a thumbs up in her direction but didn't look away.

Y/N walked to her room and stripped down into her pajamas. She set up a movie and climbed into bed. She waited for Eddie before she started the movie, entertaining herself.

She lost track of time as she felt herself falling asleep. She jerked awake when she felt a body sliding up next to hers.

"Hm?" She mumbled, opening her eyes. Eddie was lying next to her, his eyes closed as he prepared to sleep. She looked at the nightstand, the clock showing she had been asleep for two hours.

She frowned and rolled over.

~

"Alright, Dustin, are you ready to go?" Y/N asked. It was Sunday morning and she brought Dustin to the arcade every week and she never missed it.

Dustin came out of his room with all his quarters. Before he said anything, there was a knock on the door. She went to open it but Dustin beat her to it.

He opened the door and Y/N was surprised to see Eddie on the other side.

"Eddie? Hi!" She greeted, "I'm sorry I can't do anything right now; I'm taking Dustin to the arcade for our Sunday Funday." Y/N smiled as she placed her hands on Dustin's shoulders.

"Oh actually...," Dustin started

"Dustin asked me to take him," Eddie said, "I promise to take good care of him."

Y/N looked down at Dustin but he shrugged her hands off and excitedly ran to Eddie's van.

"See you soon," Eddie said, placing a quick kiss on her lips and then heading to his van. "I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU AT EVERY GAME!"

Y/N watched as the two got in the van and disappeared down the road, her stomach falling.

~

Y/N listened to the phone ring as she waited for Eddie to pick up. Her foot tapped as the phone continued to ring until it went to the machine. She sighed and slammed down the phone.

"Mom, I'll be back," Y/N said as she walked out of the house. She drove herself over to Eddie's, rolling her eyes as she saw his van parked up front. She got out of the car and knocked on his door.

At first, no one answered. So she began to bang on the door, repeatedly. She was getting fed up with Eddie's lack of acknowledgment of their relationship. He was supposed to pick her up an hour ago for a date and she feared this was her last straw with being forgotten.

Finally, the door swung open and the annoyed look on Eddie's face vanished. "Hey baby!"

"Don't hey baby me! You were supposed to pick me up for our date," she glared, crossing her arms. "An hour ago."

Eddie's smile dropped as he was quick to spurt out apologies. "Shit, I'm sorry. I got so tied up in a campaign idea and I totally lost track of time."

"Well, are you ready now? We can still go," she sighed, wanting to make the best of their evening.

"Um, it's just we are so close to finishing..." He said as he began to trail off.

"We?"

"EDDIE!" Dustin called

Y/N rolled her eyes. She truly shouldn't be surprised anymore.

"Forget it," she spat, turning around.

"Hey, woah!" Eddie said as he followed her. She was stomping her way to her car. "I'm sorry I forgot."

She turned around, fire in her eyes. "Yeah, you did forget. But I shouldn't be surprised. You clearly don't have time for a girlfriend so call me when you do."

Eddie was stunned as she turned around, quickly grabbing her arm. "Wait, are you breaking up with me? It was truly a mistake! I'll go clean up and we'll go right now. Please, let's just talk."

"There isn't ever time to talk with you, Eddie. It's the band, then the campaign boys, then Dustin. Where the hell do I fit in? Nowhere! You've ditched me countless times for my brother. I don't care if I sound stupid or jealous, but I'm hurt." She explained, trying her best to keep her emotions back.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. What can I do?" He asked, stepping forward. He frowned as she stepped back.

"That's the problem, you didn't know. And now, I don't know what to do either. Figure it out and maybe we'll talk." She said as she got in her car. Eddie watched as she reversed and raced out of the trailer park.

~

Y/N spent the remaining time of the day in her room crying, instead of being out with her boyfriend. Something she's done a few too many times now. She didn't feel any better calling off their relationship but she couldn't handle being pushed aside like nothing.

She heard Dustin get home a few minutes after her but she refused to come out of her room. She ignored his knocks on the door and his soft pleas for her to open the door.

She couldn't tell if she was being childish, but she was hurt because of them. The only two people in the world she had a relationship with became best friends and left her. She was more hurt than they never included her. And she wondered if Eddie even noticed their relationship was falling apart.

~~~

The next few days were silent. Dustin wasn't sure what to say, and not like he had the chance. He frowned as his sister slumped around the house, hiding away in her room. She hasn't talked to either boy and both were spiraling on what to do.

As Sunday rolled around, Dustin stood outside her door. He knocked softly, "Y/N? It's Sunday. Do you want to go to the arcade?"

"Take Eddie," she said. Dustin sighed, at least she spoke this time but he felt his heart drop at the sadness in her voice.

"I'd really like for us to go, I miss you," he spoke to the door. She sighed on the other side. Part of her didn't want to upset him but the other part believed he deserved to be hurt after what they did.

"Maybe next week, bud."

Dustin sighed but let her be, calling up Eddie.

~

They didn't go to the arcade, instead they tried to brainstorm what they needed to do to make it up to her.

~~~

Eddie gave her some distance, but after a week of all his calls being unanswered, he was ready to take matters into his own hands. He knew Dustin was still struggling with her and Eddie felt at fault for all of it. He got caught up with Dustin and ruined two relationships at once.

Eddie gripped the flowers in his hands tightly, completely nervous as he walked up to her front door. He hadn't seen her in a week, and he wasn't embarrassed to admit how fucking much he missed her.

Not to his surprise, Dustin opened the door. "Bedroom."

Eddie nodded and walked down the hall, giving Dustin one last nervous look.

Dustin gave him a thumbs-up before he headed outside to give them privacy. Not like he planned to race to the other side of the house to listen near her window.

"Baby?" Eddie asked, his pointer and middle knuckles knocking against the door. "I know I upset you and I want to fully apologize. Can we talk?"

Shockingly, the door opened; she left it open a crack and walked over to her bed. Eddie allowed himself in and softly closed the door.

"These are for you," Eddie mumbled, handing over the flowers. She eyed the few broken stems, trying to hide a smile. He noticed, itching the back of his neck as he blushed. "A little nervous. I think I held them too hard."

"Thank you," she whispered, setting the flowers on her bedside as she looked up at him.

Eddie walked over to her and dropped to his knees. He clapped his hands together, dramatically.

"You told me how you felt and I took everything into consideration. No surprise that you were right. I haven't been paying attention to our attention and it's unfair. I never want you to feel like you mean less to me than anyone in my life. I know I did a shitty job showing you, but you are my favorite person in the world. Being with you has added so much to my life and I won't give up until I fix this. I know we haven't said it yet, but," he let out a deep breath, "I love you, and I promise I mean it."

She felt her heart race at his words. She knew the distance was torture for both of them and it was clear he took the time to take accountability. And well, she knew she loved him too.

"Promise not to shut me out again?" She asked, crossing her arms as she looked down at him.

"Promise!" He said, putting out his pinky. She smiled and hooked his pinky, leaning in to whisper.

"I love you too,"

Eddie smiled like he won the lottery. Unhooking their fingers as he tackled her against her bed. Pressing kisses all around her face.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he mumbled against her skin.

"I better go talk to Dustin," Y/N sighed, slightly shoving Eddie aside.

"What? Why? It's my time!" Eddie whined

Y/N laughed walking towards her door, looking over her shoulder. "Hurts doesn't it?" She smirked.

Eddie flipped her off, her laugh echoing down the hallway as she searched for Dustin.

The boys were dumb, but they were hers.