#the characters and the world itself that they interact with | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

auren-zagarra · 2 days ago

Text

Mercurii Sepultus

Chapter one: Manes Dominae Meae

Author’s Note: Hello! This is my first long fanfiction for the Twisted Wonderland fandom. I’d like to thank my beta reader, Tammie (@house-of-tales), for all their help. They were incredible - correcting and improving the text, sharing amazing ideas, and just being an absolute blessing to work with. While this chapter doesn’t contain any smut, I do plan to include it later on - so, kindly: minors, do not interact!

Trigger Warnings: Death, angst, grief, mentally unstable Malleus, and implications of depression.

Characters Count: 13667

Your body was buried on a Wednesday evening.

The air bit with cruel indifference, wind lashing the folds of Malleus Draconia’s cloak as he stood like a monument of grief before the stone that bore your name. A marble too soft for the horror it concealed. Beneath that soil, you lay - silent, cold - and the world around him seemed hushed, as though nature itself dared not disturb the stillness of death. The warmth that once clung to your skin had long since fled, leaving behind only a hollow echo of what you were. You, who once danced through the castle halls like firelight on dark stone, who laughed like chimes shaken by spring winds - now stilled, muted, devoured by the earth. He could not weep. The grief had calcified, a crown of thorns buried into his skull, throbbed by the soundless memory of your voice. You had held him once, arms wrapped like sanctuary, breath soft against his horns as you whispered promises meant to outlive the stars.

"I will never leave you."

You had said it, so softly, with eyes full of love and hope. A promise spun of warmth and eternity - and yet, you had left. Why? Why had you woven lies from love and sewn them into his heart? Were you deceived yourself, or had the cruelty of time simply stolen your breath before your promise could be kept? Now you were no longer warmth, nor voice, nor laughter. You were only a memory rotting beautifully beneath the earth, perfumed in petals, decaying with elegance as all mortal things must.

They had all foreseen this. The courtiers whispered it from the halls: This human is a fleeting flame; they will perish long before the dragon’s fire fades. And yet, Malleus had refused to believe them. But death is a tyrant with no regard for kings or vows. And so, he stood alone, as dusk closed its dark wings over the land, mourning not only your departure, but the cruel truth that even love, in all its grandeur, is powerless before the grave.

Now it is Thursday morning, and the sun stretches golden fingers across the graveyard, casting warmth upon the pale face of the grieving king. Its rays, soft as breath, dared to caress him, as if urging him to rise, to return to his castle and forget the one who once crowned his heart with joy. But how does one forget a cathedral once filled with light? How does one abandon a body that was once a sanctuary, now reduced to sanctified rot beneath indifferent earth? How could he walk away? How could Malleus Draconia leave you there - to decay, to fade like a half-remembered verse of a love poem? In your absence, the centuries pressed down upon him with a child’s weight, and he was no longer king, no longer fable - merely a boy again. A boy stumbling through the lonely corridors of Night Raven College, searching for something - anything - that would make the silence stop echoing.

Malleus had stood vigil beneath the moon’s gaze, all through the hours when ghosts grew brave. He had waited, mad with hope, as if you would rise laughing from the grave and tell him this was simply a stupid jest. But the dawn brought no miracle, only the cruel morning light. And so he fell - at last - his knees sinking into the grave-soiled ground. The regal weight of his mourning cloaks pooled around him like black blood. Silent tears carved down his cheeks and kissed the earth where you slept. His fingers clawed into the damp soil, trembling as they curled around the mud - his last, desperate tether to your vanished warmth. If he clutched it tightly enough, would you come back? If his grief soaked the ground deeply enough, would you feel it beneath the veil? The mud dirtied his hands, but he did not care. A king no longer. A husband no longer. Only a widow - drenched in daylight that mocked the night he carried inside his chest.

A year was not enough to mend the fractures death carved into him. Nor was the second, which passed like a ghost brushing its fingers across an unhealed wound. Some say that the third year brings mercy - “third time’s the charm,” they claim, with smiles stitched from ignorance. But such words are lullabies for the damned, sung by those who have never known true loss. Lies we inherit as children - wide-eyed and foolish - and repeat as adults who’ve forgotten how to live without illusion.

Malleus Draconia had no illusions left. He was an abandoned man, a soul with no future, condemned to linger in the shadow of a love turned to dust. For five long years, he returned - like a mourner possessed - to the place where your body slept beneath the withered earth. Every month without fail, he knelt before your grave and wept the same tears, salt-slicked and soundless, each one a memory he could not bear into forgetting.

He brought flowers, always the same kind - those soft-petaled things you once adored. He would cradle them gently in his hands, brush them against his lips, as if kissing you again through their bloom. And then he’d lay them down, right where your ears once wore them like a crown of spring. “Not even they could rival you” he used to whisper, when your laughter still lit the hollows of his heart.

On the fifth anniversary of your death, Malleus commissioned a portrait. Not a simple likeness, no - but a relic, wrought by the steadiest hands in all the Valley of Thorns. The canvas was stitched with threads of gold and silver, each one trembling with the weight of devotion. And your face… oh, your face. It was captured in cruel perfection: flushed cheeks, lips softened by the illusion of breath, skin painted with a warmth that no longer touched your bones. Yet it was the eyes - those eyes - unsettled even the fae. There was something in that gaze, something unholy and piercing, as though your soul had found its way back through pigment and brushstroke just to accuse him. You stared out from the frame not like a memory, but like a judge. Not lovingly, but as though whispering, "Why did you let me rot in the dark? Why did you bury me and call it love?"

Yes, those were your eyes… and yet, the painter - no matter how skilled - could not resurrect the light they once carried. That particular fire had died with you, and it would never burn again. His fingers brushed the dried oil gently, and for a moment he swore the paint seared his skin - a heatless flame, born not of fire, but of guilt. Still, he did not pull away. He placed the portrait where the king’s should have hung, high above the throne room - breaking the rules settled by bloodlines and titles. Let the courtiers murmur. Let tradition fade. What was royalty, after all, if not the power to choose who you worship - and how deeply you mourn them? This was his shrine in your memory.

The ink bled like blood across the parchment - a dark, oozing wound upon the letter your majesty had so carefully begun, meant to serve as a reply to a distant king’s plea: the offering of his daughter’s hand in marriage. The error was born of a simple gesture - Malleus, rising to shut the window against the sighing dusk, his sleeve brushing the inkwell’s lip. A soft clink, a tip of glass, and then ruin. The black ichor spread like rot, devouring his words before they had even been born - as though fate itself had risen from the grave to strike the quill from his grasp. He stared at the marred page for a long while, not with frustration, but with a hollow stillness that haunts. Then he cast it aside - not in defeat, but as one acquainted with the impermanence of all things.

A fresh page lay before him - blank, pale, expectant - yet it remained untouched. Malleus sat once as outside, the world turned on: stars wheeled in indifferent constellations, winds danced through trees. But the seconds grew heavy. Minutes blurred into hours, losing their shape. He did not chase them. He only thought. The ink at his quill’s tip trembled, then fell - a single drop blooming on the virgin parchment like a bruise. And with it came the sigh, deep and slow, dragged from the hollows of his chest like a final breath. He could not write. Not because he lacked words - but because no word, no sentence, no treaty scrawled in gold that he thought would fit as an answer. He knew he should remarry, bond his soul with someone of high class with noble blood - but it sounded so… wrong.

Rising, he reached for the ornate chandelier resting upon the nightstand - that little altar beside the bed you once shared, now cold, untouched by breath or dreams. The moment his fingers brushed the metal, the flames within flickered - and then bloomed into green. Not the harsh green of envy, nor the sickly hue of poison - but a soft, phosphorescent glow that shimmered like emerald dew upon midnight leaves. It pulsed gently, alive with fae magic, casting halos that swayed like spirits against the cold stone walls. He stepped into the corridor, the dark swallowing him like a tide. The castle slept - no servants stirred, no nobility whispered. Only his steps remained - slow, echoing.

It was as if his feet moved of their own accord, drawn not by destination but by sorrow - silent pilgrims. They carried his pallid form through the vast, hollow corridors of a castle far too grand for a soul so burdened. He, the lonely monarch, wearied not by rule but by remembrance, drifted as a wraith might, until he stood once more before the altar of memory - the throne room. There, your visage awaited him and it was enough to unravel him. Would you call him weak, he wondered, for refusing to let your death settle into silence? For summoning your spirit with every breath, tethering himself to a memory too tender, too cruel to release? He gazed into those eyes - eyes that once knew the shape of his joy - and imagined their judgment: that he was not a king. Tears, always waiting, rose once more. His lips cracked about to speak - a whisper, perhaps, your name, or some plea the stars might understand… when suddenly, a voice pierced the hush.

A voice echoed in that mausoleum, so soft and familiar: “Tsunotarou! You’re back!”

And there you were. A phantom, watching him from the other side of the room. The garments that once adorned you in life - and later in death - now hung from your form like a thin veil. You smiled… just as he remembered, just as he had longed for in countless fevered dreams - and opened your arms, as if the grave had never claimed you. There was no reason for your presence, no law of nature that could explain such an apparition… But Draconia no longer cared for the laws of life or death.

He felt like retching, like tearing his own chest apart just to see if his heart still dared to beat within it. What vile trick was this? What cruelty did fate now stage before his weary eyes? Was it destiny that mocked him… or the last desperate fracture of a mind undone by grief? The king stood motionless, trembling - not from fear, but from the overwhelming ache of longing. Had he yearned so bitterly, so violently for your return, that even his soul had grown defiant? Had his mind, broken by mourning, chosen to rebel against reality itself - conjuring you in the hollow silence just to spare him from madness?

His hands rose toward you as if by instinct - trembling limbs guided by love and delusion alike. Fingers stretched toward something far too divine, too sacred, too lost for one such as him. He reached not for flesh, but for memory… for stealing one last kiss from your lips, for a warmth he missed so dearly. And oh, how he longed to feel it again - to feel alive. It was blasphemous, to crave so greedily what the heavens had claimed, to reach for a soul meant to rest in peace. And yet, what man would not dare the wrath of angels… just to hold his beloved one more time? The love of his life. His human. He stepped forward, haltingly - like a man afraid to frighten a specter of deer-bone fragility, one that might flee into the shadows of eternity if startled.

But before he could close the distance, before their fingers could meet and tangle like they once had in moonlit gardens, his body betrayed him. His knees buckled. The weight of grief and guilt crashed into him like a tidal wave, and he crumpled to the stone floor with a thud that echoed through the silence. He could not look at you. He could not meet those eyes. Because they were the same eyes that had looked into his during your final moments - when life had fled her body like smoke from a dying flame. Eyes that had once held warmth, light, laughter... now stared down at him with a chilling stillness. There was no anger in them, no cruelty. And yet they judged him more harshly than any sword or sentence ever could.

A sob tore through his chest - guttural, full of all the pain he'd tried to bury in the ruins of his castle, in the ashes of memory. It wasn’t a cry. It was a groan, a sound dragged from the very marrow of his soul. He wanted to say something - to tell that figure right in front of him that they were still everything, that they haunted him in sleep and in waking, that his love hadn’t died with them. He wanted to beg for a kiss, even just the remnants of one. To feel their breathless melody on his lips, even if it was a lie.

But all that came out was the truth: "I'm so sorry." he whispered, barely able to breathe through the trembling of his voice.

The only response was the way your hair shifted slightly, as though stirred by wind that did not exist - as though some god had sighed in pity… or in disapproval. You gazed down at him - eyes as lifeless and cold as the soil that once held you. And yet, with the tenderness of a haunting, you brushed a single strand of dark hair like coal from his face and began to sing. A lullaby for the damned. You were there. But were you mercy… or malediction?

You appeared at dawn on Wednesday.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus angst #angst #malleus draconia angst #angst no comfort

110 notes · View notes

bogwaterparasite · 1 day ago

Text

Character Building!! (Saja boys edition)

Characters: Saja Boys (except Jinu)

A/N: Am I milking the fact that my HC’s seemed to be doing well? Yes. I’m also taking advantage of the fact that these characters don’t really have a storyline or anything of their own to sorta create their own personalities to use when I write fanfiction! Sue me, I love them.

Just fyi. I’m currently working on requests! So don’t fret, I haven’t forgotten about you

Previous post!! - SAJA HC’s

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Baby saja (Eun-young)

✮⋆˙ I’ve decided the name based off of the meaning that can be given to it. Eun-young can translate to both graceful flower or silver petal. I think it’s kinda fitting considering his soft boy sort of aesthetic, yet it serves as a good contrast to the personality given to him.

✮⋆˙ I believe that he got recruited by Jinu due to his musical talent. He’s a rapper, and a very good one at that, but unlike jinu? It isn’t something he’s been practicing ever since he was a human

✮⋆˙ Matter of fact, I don’t believe he was ever human. Despite Jinu saying that Gwi-Ma controlled the demons by the guilt they possessed, there is a possibility for some demons to just be summoned or created with the sole purpose of getting souls/defeating the demon hunters.

✮⋆˙ Eun-young’s talent developed from curiosity. He had always had a fascination for technology and the way things worked in the human world given that Gwa-Mi’s realm seems to be nothing but a void, and all of their entertainment is given by none other than Gwa-Mi himself. During the beginnings of the creation of cellphones, he most definitely stole one in order to take it back. While this action is suspicious on itself, he can always use the pretext of wanting to be connected in order to deceive the humans and collect souls with more efficiency.

✮⋆˙ While indulging in human media, he found himself drawn towards music, but not ALL music, rap specifically. He’d do most of his practicing down in earth, using it as a way to get closer with certain humans (and singers which I assume have more powerful souls) and developing his skills while still accomplishing the task given to him by Gwa-Mi.

✮⋆˙ Despite his gravelly voice, he was never truly into the stereotypical rapper appearance. The soft boy look seemed to be what called to him more than anything else, comfortable and colorful outfits that contrast the traditional dark appearance he holds in his demon form. It creates a sort of trustworthy character for humans, specially women, which he takes advantage of to the fullest.

✮⋆˙ Given that he is a made demon, he is rather devoid of emotion. Hes not a hateful person, but just holds little interest for things that he hasn’t developed an interest for, which is why he’s so willing to do pretty much anything. Even then, he will always go back to what he’s used to, which is doing nothing while scrolling through media.

✮⋆˙ He lacks taste buds, so his preferences of food come from the texture and feeling that they create. Colder things tend to have a thicker consistency than he finds rather enjoyable, which eventually developed into a liking of squishy and chewy foods rather than crunchy.

✮⋆˙ Even though he’s rather devoid of emotion, his vast interactions with humans and the human world caused him to develop more of a consciousness than other demons. This is what allows for Gwa-Mi to filter the voices into his mind, which although rare, still bother him just as much as the rest of the demons.

Abs Saja (Ho-Seok)

✮⋆˙ I’m not quite sure what the full name stands for, however, the translation for Seok is put as stone or rock. I think this kinda makes sense since I see abs as being sort of a reliable person? Idk how that makes sense considering he’s a demon, but yk.

✮⋆˙ I’m not too sure if All demons have formed pacts with Gwa-Mi or just Jinu? I’m running with the idea that not all of them were human, or have had to make a pact with him in order to become demons, but in this case? Abs did.

✮⋆˙ Born during the Joeson dynasty, about 80% of the families participated in agricultural farming(including his own), making it an incredibly competitive market. Due to increasing tariffs and environmental struggles, his family wasn’t the most wealthy. Unable to hire more workers, they used their 4 children to help around the farm, their pay being the fact that they got to survive another day. Ho-Seok was the oldest and strongest, which meant that majority of the tasks were handed to him in order for the farm to stay afloat. Although this was somewhat unfair, he did get a portion of the profits (although not much) which kept him quiet for the most part.

✮⋆˙ As he grew up, he became unsatisfied by the life he was living. Due to old age, his father wasn’t able to work anymore, which now meant that all the responsibilities (whether it was about the farm or the family) fell on him. This caused him to grow resentful of his family, the inability to provide for him and their children, while also having to deal with 3 children all at once began to take a toll on him.

✮⋆˙ There was one thing that he looked forward to however, a girl he had been crushing on for quite sometime. She frequented the farm for supplies, and she always served as a balm for his worries (even though she wasn’t aware of it).

✮⋆˙ In the end, all of these problems and responsibilities were what led him to create a pact with Gwa-Mi, becoming a demon in order to finally be able to live comfortably. He left his family to fend for themselves, slowly elevating his status by working with other members and eventually ending up as a chef in the palace. Despite him not thinking that he had any guilt about what he’d done, the marks were slowly consuming him.

✮⋆˙ What drove him to be at Gwa-Mi’s control for eternity was a simple mistake, at least he says it was a mistake. With his newfound status, he was going to confess his love to his beloved.. however, he was soon to find out she was betrothed to another.

✮⋆˙ This enraged him, as for now, even if he had gained more than what he wished to accomplish, he had lost everything that once made him who he was. In an attempt to salvage whatever there was left, he tried to consume the soul of her beloved, only to end up consuming hers by accident.

✮⋆˙ This served as a catalyst for his full transformation to becoming a demon, all his guilt consuming him whole and casting him into the life of eternal suffering.

✮⋆˙ He was scouted out by Jinu due to him being one of the strongest demons, he had no musical experience beforehand, so training him was sorta… difficult, but in the end it worked.

Romance Saja (Min-Joon)

✮⋆˙ Much like the other names, Minjoon can have a LOT of interpretations. Min can mean; quick, clever or sharp, and sometimes it can also be gentle or affable depending on the hanja characters used. While Joon means talented, handsome, or outstanding, which in my opinion? Is very fitting to him.

✮⋆˙ Unlike Eunyoung or Hoseok, Minjoon was a human up until recently, but he didn’t make a pact with Gwa-Mi, but rather made a deal with Jinu in exchange for his soul.

✮⋆˙ When Minjoon was young, his father left him and his mother to peruse a “better life” with his affair partner, leaving them to fend for themselves. His mother tried to make this transition as easy as possible for Minjoon, taking more hours in order to keep their income coming and still provide extra cash for whatever he might want, yet, this left little to no time to spend with her son.

✮⋆˙ He didn’t really resent his mother for this, quite the opposite really. Seeing her so driven to provide comfort to their lives despite their losses made him want to do better, to someday be able to provide for her the same way she was providing for him. In his search for ways to get rich, he came across the idol world. It wasn’t just the money that attracted him to it, but rather the musical aspect of it. They all seemed to have so much fun, doing something they enjoyed while inspiring others to do the same, didn’t that sound like the dream?

✮⋆˙ What drew him in more than anything were the choreographies, there was something about the way they moved along with every beat, every move perfectly aligned with the lyrics, it just felt right, something he wanted to do.

✮⋆˙ It was during highschool that he started to act upon this, creating a social media account and beginning to train himself to dance and create his own style. Despite what influencers might make you think, gaining a following was quite hard, not getting many interactions often left him disillusioned, but it didn’t stop him. The more he practiced, the better he got, and slowly his confidence and following grew.

✮⋆˙ He usually kept his interest quiet from everyone at school, but once, while practicing in an empty classroom, he managed to find someone who shared a similar dream to him.

✮⋆˙ The two of them grew closer, and they slowly began working to get their dreams come true. Eunseong was a composer, and combining this with the dances Minjoon was able to create along those lyrics, they seemed like the perfect match. However, both of them lacked in the aspect of singing, something that set them back by a long shot in the world of idols and k-pop groups.

✮⋆˙ Even as they grew, and they were able to get a following from their creations, the dream of becoming big was still far from them. In an attempt to better their voices, they went to Dr. Ramune for his ��amazing” tonics, but as we all know, it didn’t work. And that’s where Jinu came into play.

✮⋆˙ One unfortunate night, both met Jinu outside of a shop. He offered them what they desired the most, a group to succeed, the voices they so desired, all of their dreams granted, just for the price of their soul. Who would be able to pass up on that offer?

✮⋆˙ And that’s how things came to be. Now with a group, a fame so vast they got everything they wanted, what else was there for him to want? Well, it seemed that he had forgotten a tiny detail.. the mother which he had worked so hard for, who never heard from him again.

Mystery Saja (Eun-Seong)

✮⋆˙ once again with the names and the meanings, hopefully you aren’t getting too tired of them lmfao. Eunseong can be roughly translated to many great;abundant, flourishing. Eun meaning kindness, mercy, or silver. It can also refer to grace, favor, or gratitude. And Seong meaning success, accomplishment, or flourishing. It can also be interpreted as sincere, honest, or true. All of these names are just things I believe are fitting to their character.

✮⋆˙ Alike Minjoon, Eunseong was also a human up until recently, matter of fact, he knew Minjoon personally, as he was his only friend throughout school.

✮⋆˙ He was born into a wealthy family, a very detached one at that. Family dinners were usually spent silent, or talking about the successes/faults of their family or company. This type of family style caused him to grow rather quiet, he hated big crowds, as they were nothing other than means to gain status, so he didn’t really socialize much with others in school. Most of his thoughts and feelings were written down on notebooks, and those words slowly developed into poems, poems that eventually turned into lyrics.

✮⋆˙ As his love for music grew, so did his feeling of isolation. He knew he couldn’t talk about this with his family, as a career as an idol was seen as taboo. He had so many ways to earn a living and get rich, and he decided to do that? His father would never allow it. Not only that, but the kids at his school who said they wanted to follow such dreams were just.. idiots. None of them cared for anything other than singing already made songs, doing the same as every other group out there did, they wanted fame and money without working hard for it.

✮⋆˙ That was up until he met Minjoon. It was by accident really, he just heard a song coming out from one of the classrooms and he decided to snoop, only to find him dancing in there. From then on, their relationship grew.

✮⋆˙ Minjoon was unlike anyone he had met before, he didn’t mind his quiet nature, matter of fact, he sort of loved it. While Eunseong stayed quiet and wrote, he would yap his ear off, even offering some advice about the lyrics while beginning to create his own choreography to it. He was.. odd, but he didn’t mind, after all, when was the last time he had this much fun with someone else?

✮⋆˙ Eventually, as they grew up, he opened up about his wishes to become an idol to his family, and just as expected, they didn’t react well to the news. Considering they were well out of high school, his father kicked him out of their home, putting the ultimatum to not come back unless he rethinks his life choices.

✮⋆˙ This wasn’t much of a problem, as he had saved up enough of his allowance to get an apartment, and after telling Minjoon after the whole ordeal, they both worked together to rent a place of their own, beginning to work hard to accomplish their goals.

✮⋆˙ Despite all the effort they put into their videos, it seemed to not be amounting to anything. They had a few debuts, and a small following of fans, but no matter what they did, they weren’t accomplishing what they truly wanted. This made him slowly start to loose hope, seriously reconsidering his fathers offer, however, Minjoo wasn’t giving up so easily.

✮⋆˙ Tonics, some sort of witchcraft, doing crazy dares, whatever crazy idea his partner came up with, he would follow. Did he truly think they would work? No, but seeing him so determined to not let their dream die out made him share the sentiment. That was up until they found this.. guy?.

✮⋆˙ Jinu, a self proclaimed demon who told them he would make their dreams come true all in exchange of his soul. It seemed shady as hell, and he was highly against the idea of handing whoever the hell he was anything valuable of theirs, he was going to decline, tell this man to fuck off, yet, seeing the desperation in Minjoon’s face, he couldn’t bring himself to. In the end, they both agreed.

✮⋆˙ And that’s how things came to be. They succeeded in their dreams, gaining the title of idols, their hard work finally paying off, yet, in the process, they seemingly lost themselves.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

I had a lot of fun with these, AND ONCE AGAIN, these are all up for interpretation! The Saja boys have no canon names or personalities really, so I’m just making it up on vibes and whimsy. Besides, I will be using these if/when I write about them, so feel free to do so as well!! And if you do, please @ me or lmk because I would love to see what you guys create with them :>

Reblogs are appreciated!

41 notes · View notes

honeyhonest · 2 days ago

Note

Here's another request~

But if it bothers you that I sent you more, I'll understand orz

A story about the first time Yuu and Fellow had sex. Was it good? Bad? Was there consent? Were they in love? And what about the first kiss? Did they have a room?

-Neo

"was there consent" you know me toooo well. honestly and truthfully I can imagine a thousand first-time scenarios for these two, it's all very dependent on the yuu. buuuuuuut... who am I to deny a little dubcon for this guy? it's always so deliciously in-character for such a scummy man

minors get blocked, 18+ interactions only

✧˖°. to fib

warnings: gn afab!reader (you/yours pronouns), reader is ADULT yuu, DUBCON (coercion, intimidation, stalking kinda) proceed with caution, penetrative sex, post-playful land, pussy/cunt/clit all used, "slut" and "whore" directed towards reader, creampie, fellow calls reader a virgin but it's not confirmed, vaguely dissociative, obviously evil sex blah blah, not proofread FUCK IT!!

characters: fellow

length: long wtf where did these words come from

It had really all felt like a bad dream.

Unlike the fire lotus ordeal in October, which had been the subject of many conversations between those who bore witness to the blazing inferno of flowers that spread through the appropriately-named city like a pandemic, like a plague, Playful Land had been...

...Well, it had been bad. But as if contained between the walls of the seabound vessel, the lingering fear you had felt that night had not burrowed beneath your skin, had not left a bitter taste on your tongue and in your throat. You had been combed through by overblot after overblot, balls of fire and winds of poison that had left marks visible on your body for all the world to see.

Not even the wood grain of Playful Land imprinted itself on your softened skin; it was truly as if nothing had ever taken root there in the first place.

The small group of classmates that had been with you, wrists bound in a line, until they went limp and hard and knocked together like the colorful blocks of a mobile in the wind, well, none of them wanted to talk about it.

"Weird," Ace, distinctly, had said, "Just weird."

Unlike the shriveled fire lotuses, the eternal penance and unpayable fine of Rollo Flamme's punishment, there was no place on the intricately detailed paper map of Professor Trein's classroom wall to put a pin in; Fleur City remained unchanged, its borders hardened by time and wars fought long before your tenure at Night Raven College, and with them, Rollo Flamme. Contained between the stone walls of the city that he lay prisoner of, you had, as Malleus Draconia had unnecessarily reassured you, nothing to fear of him.

There was a place, a date, and a name to what happened there. Azul still mumbled under his breath about the malady of breathing problems the ash of the fire lotuses and the stairs to the belltower had left him, though with no noticeable venom in his voice. Malleus still scoffed at that name, Flamme, the boy who thought he was fit to be God. Ruggie and Jamil still chuckled about things they feigned to with the others, Riddle and Epel still chatted fondly and exchanged nods for their bravery, even Grim had taken to grumbling about his empty stomach when reminded of the many breads and cheeses of Fleur City.

But Playful Land was not this. It was nothing more than what it had sold itself as: an illusion. A dream. A tear in the tablecloth of time and reality, where the crumbs of haughty boys and overconfident students of arcane academies fell through.

There, simply put, was nothing to talk about.

Not that anyone wanted to, anyhow.

It crossed your mind, once or twice, though you never spoke those pedantic thoughts: in one part, because of the uncomfortable nature of the memory; in another, because any reminder of how easily fooled the Night Raven College students were would set off a terrible argument about "who's fault it was", and you hadn't the energy nor interest for that, especially after having barely dragged yourself out of Diasomnia alive this past month.

Another overblot under your belt. How many more were you expected to take?

But, as Headmage Crowley had assured you, that was all in the past- STYX will keep a sharp eye on the school for blot accumulation, the necessary funds will be delegated to recovery and prevention programs, and, after all, the school year was almost complete.

The thought of three months of... nothing was as relieving as it was terrifying. No overblots, no attempted murders, no end-of-the-world, nothing but yourself, Grim, ghosts, and...

...No home.

Three months wasted sitting around your derelict dorm, kicking rocks and waiting for the Headmage to return, as if you were some loyal lapdog for him. You had no hopes of finding your own way back- you had spent these past few weeks of school pouring over every textbook, manual, encyclopedia, ancient tome, and web article you could get your hands on, with your dutiful friends at your side.

But not even Lilia could come up with any sort of spell, incantation, potion, door, portal, or person that might help you home, and so all you were given were the palms of empty hands.

Only a few more days until you were doomed to your dorm for months.

You almost felt grateful for the interscholastic Spelldrive tournament, which would be taking place over the weekend, as it gave you more than enough to keep you moving, on your feet, and out of your own mind.

Sage's Island is packed full of tourists, rivaling teams, TV crews, family members, and fans looking forward to the days of entertainment ahead. Vil and Neige superfans pour from both schools, expecting to catch a glimpse of their biases amongst the crowds. Spelldrive enthusiasts trade tall tales of Leona Kingscholar's athletic routine, hoping they might one day follow in his footsteps. Even the locals are enjoying the food kiosks and sidestreet spectacles. You had never seen the island so full of... well, everything. People, smells, magic, life, light, entertainment. Grim has been dragging you from stall to stall all day, draining you of the measly thirty thaumarks Crowley had allowed you for souvenirs on sandwiches and cheeses and kebabs and sausage and cakes and candies and pie, none of which you've gotten a single bite of yourself, though it's not as if you mind.

You figure that Grim should be spoiled a little before the school year ends. He'll get bored of your home cooking within a week.

Best not to worry about that now.

"I smell fish! Codfish!" he announces, tugging on your sleeve with such excitement you almost tumble into a few burly spelldrive players in blue uniforms- not that Grim notices, or cares.

"We only have five thaumarks left," you remind him. "The Headmage was very generous, but- don't you want to wait for popcorn or something when the game actually begins?"

Grim stops walking in the middle of the cobblestone to ponder on that, and you have to scoop him up to get him out of the way. You plop him down on a stack of empty mango crates in the alley behind an abandoned juice stall, the paper "CLOSED" sign indicating that its occupants had likely left to grab their seats in the stadium. You should also be doing that, but Grim...

"I dunnoooo..." he starts, crossing his little paws like a tiny businessman. "What if they don't have any fish at the game?"

You sigh, slumping against the wall. "I packed tuna in the bag,"

You can predict the disgusted groans and complaints of your friends (and of all the people sitting around you) at the strong smell of cat food. It's funny, and you almost smile.

"Hmmm... fiiine," Grim gives in. You almost get your hopes up, but before you can announce you should then go grab your seats-

"BUT! I want cotton candy, too."

And there it goes, your hope dropping lower than you blood sugar levels. "But- Grim, the special cotton candy stall is at the pier. That's a twenty minute walk from here- maybe more, considering all the foot traffic,"

There he goes, crossing his little cat paws again and pouting. Damn, he's good. You're trapped, and Grim knows it- you both don't want to disappoint him, and you don't want him to pitch a hungry temper-tantrum in the stadium.

But you had really, really good seat... Leona picked it for you himself.

"Hey, there you guys are!"

Your body reacts before your mind, and cold relief flushes the cortisol out of your system. You turn to the sound of your friends, both warm-faced and smiling. Deuce has a red splotch across his nose- sunburnt. Ace must've dragged him around as much as Grim has you.

"Hey, guys,"

"The first round is about to start," Deuce says. "Didn't you say you wanted to wish the team good luck before they head onto the field?"

You shrug. "Leona wanted me to, actually, but that's- um, I just need to make a quick run into town again, can you take Grim and save my seat?"

Ace and Deuce share a look, but it's more weary than suspicious.

"Grim forgot something, didn't he?" the former sighs. "You've gotta keep it together!"

Grim bristles. "HEY! I keep it together all the time!"

You throw yourself in between them before they can waste any more breath. "I'm just making a final snack run! I'll be back as soon as I can, just save the seats and don't wait on me,"

Ace rolls his eyes, but he's never one to deny you. Especially now, knowing that it'll be a long three months before you can see them again. Deuce, always one to entertain your whims, smiles and takes Grim's paw.

"We won't wait on you, then,"

"Just keep us updated, text us in case something happens," Ace grumbles.

You sigh. "Thank you both. Oh, and here- Grim's tuna,"

Deuce shoulders the bag, looking fabulously like a middle-aged mom on vacation. "See you there, Prefect!"

"See you,"

You don't wait for them to start; you only have so much time to bus back to school, and the cotton candy stand with the disgusting tuna-flavored sugar that Grim worships is a commodity that can only be purchased at the piers. Damn it, shouldn't have spoiled him... You wouldn't be in this mess if you were capable of saying "no".

The crowds are tight for only a few minutes of walking (or, rather, shoving, pushing and pulling, being elbowed and stepped on), and then they begin to thin as more people head to the arena in Night Raven College to watch the first match. Which is both relieving and worrying- you're not so sure that some dickweed second-year won't take your seat before Ace, Deuce, and Grim can get there- the numbers on your tickets won't mean anything once you're actually inside.

The sun beats down on Foothill Town like no day before- you hadn't had a summer in Sage's Island yet, and a part of you is concerned that every day will be this hot and humid. Ramshackle has no air conditioning, after all, and the blinds are broken in most rooms.

You flick some sweat off your forehead with a swipe of your palm and keep walking, the cobblestone hard and unforgivingly hot under the thin soles of your borrowed shoes, your feet aching from how much legwork you've done today alone. You had made a promise with yourself to enjoy this weekend to the fullest, but so far, all it had been is hot, crowded, and noisy. And Grim's going to be farting up the bedroom tonight for certain.

Who even thinks of tuna-flavored cotton candy, anyway? You grimace at the thought of the smell.

The blinding sparkle of the blue sea catches your eye, and you follow that to the sound and smell of waves pushing against the white sand. The pier comes into distance, and you slip between the bars and pubs and fish markets, now somewhat unnerved by how quiet it is. There's an old man snoring in a chair on a porch, and then there are the warehouses and storage containers, and then the abandoned boats of the dock.

No cotton candy.

Damn it. They must've moved to get closer to campus. If you had gone with Ace and Deuce, you probably would've seen the damn thing...

You should text and tell them that it's not here. Grim'll pitch a fit, but there's nothing that can be done now. You make a grab for your tiny phone, and find nothing at your side but air.

Fuck. Your phone was in the bag you handed to Deuce.

You slump, defeated and sweaty and dead on your feet, against the closest surface, and then-

OW.

You yelp in pain- the tin walls are burning hot.

Whimpering in pain and cursing at your stroke of poor luck, you limp yourself into a shaded, dark alley between two buildings you can only assume are used to hold fish- based on the smell, at least. It's cool enough here, though, and you stand beside a stack of empty barrels while trying to find a will and motivation to walk back to school.

You're supposed to be having fun this weekend, but all you've felt is miserable- miserable that you're not going home, miserable that your little friends are leaving you, miserable that you shouldn't be so mad about both of those things, but you are.

No fun. No fun at all.

"Pardon, there, would you happen to have the time?"

For a second time today, you yelp like a puppy who's tail had been stepped on. Who the fuck-? You were alone just a second ago, but now there's a shadow in the morning sun at the mouth of the alley.

Embarrassed enough by your sweaty, sorry state and the pitiful sound you'd just made, you look away. "No, sorry, I... uh, my friends have my bag, so no phone. Sorry,"

"Ah. Well that's certainly a shame, I wouldn't want to miss the big game,"

You almost groan. "It's already started,"

The man, tall and too gaudily dressed for summer (you could certainly tell from the silhouette alone, who wears a three piece suit in this sort of heat?) walks further, which is, perhaps, the exact opposite of what you were hoping he'd do.

"What's got you so down, hm? Lost your ticket?"

Your focus stays on your feet, aching and sore from the half-hour of walking you had endured to come here. Should have said no...

"I'm... I'm just..." you hate how chatty the strangers here are. What does it matter to him? "Just catching my breath."

He hums, stopping beside you and sitting on one of the fish barrels without a single regard for the smell or the strange pinkish slime that seems to be splotched across them. "Hot day, isn't it?"

Great. Small talk. "Sure is,"

"Say," he says, the shadow of his face coming closer to yours, trying to catch your downturned eyes. "Have we met? You look awful familiar, but I can't place my finger on it..."

"I doubt that," you say. "I just have... one of those faces. I could be anyone."

"No, no! I'm certain we've met! I would never forget anyone so cute,"

A shiver shoots up your spine, and the shadow of a cloud passes over the alley. Time to go, you decide. Compliments from strangers have never preceded anything good.

"Well, I can't say, I've met a lot of people," you say, hurriedly pushing yourself off the wall. "My friends are waiting on me, though, so I should go."

You don't wait for a response, turning to the open mouth of the alley, away from the strange man, when you're suddenly yanked back by the neck of your shirt. The motion is so sudden and violent that when you choke, it's more out of surprise than it is out of the force that this man is holding you by. Your fear is set off by a flicker of orange, and you're suddenly face-to-face with someone you most certainly have met, and had hoped you never would again.

"It's wrong to fib. Didn't anyone ever teach you that?"

You swallow dryly, held by the scruff of your neck like a disobedient kitten by none other than the former manager of Playful Land, that place you never thought of, never spoke of.

"I-I don't-"

"Tch, come, now. I'm uneducated," Fellow says, using his free hand to tug on the tie of your uniform. "Not stupid. Just save the seats, don't wait on me!"

He trills in an unconvincing imitation of your voice, and then chuckles. You don't dare move, though he shoves you against the cold metal wall anyway.

"I don't have any money," you lie again, feeling the weight of those final five thaumarks in your pocket. What would the Headmage say if you told them they were stolen? Would he believe you?

Fellow rolls his eyes and lets go of your collar, dusting off his hands on his patchwork pants. "I don't want your money,"

He says that word with such disgust that you might have assumed, if you did not know him (or know him enough, in your case), that he really meant it. But he was so willing, so utterly gleeful in stripping away your personhood for a little extra in his paycheck before- what would he do for the five thaumarks in your pocket?

"Don't give me that look," he scowls. "I'm not going to kill you. Why would I? It's all water under the bridge, isn't it?"

You open your mouth, and nothing comes out.

"Besides, I could always tell you..." he gestures vaguely at your sorry state. "...Were a... special exception to the Night Raven College rule. What was it? Pity? Scholarship?"

He smiles, as if that were a funny thought, fixing your collar and smoothing over your shoulders with his dirty-gloved hands. "I just wanted to give you a scare, that's all. Maybe catch up? Laugh about old times?"

You don't say anything, but the suspicion and unease on your face is noticeable. Fellow grins.

"Were you hoping for something else? I've got time,"

You force something, anything, to fall out of your parted lips. "Th-the game,"

"The game?" he scowls. "You'll live, not seeing those pampered brats pretend to beat each other black and blue on sticks."

"But-"

"Shut up," he says, though softly, an odd choice of words if he was going for soothing. Fellow's eyes drift down your body, stiff and unfeeling, your feet frozen to the ground. He checks over his shoulder for a moment, and, deciding that there won't be any consequence for it, he grips the plush of your hip and squeezes. A strangled gasp comes from your throat, startled, not aroused, though he likes it anyway.

"Missed me?" he teases, retracting his hand if only to force you against the wall again, his fingers dancing up your side. "You know, of all those fat-faced school brats, I always found you the most..."

Fellow pauses, as if carefully picking his words.

"...Fuckable. Though that's not a very gentlemanly thing to say, is it?"

"...No," you manage.

"Cute, then," he says. "But I didn't touch you, didn't see the point in risking my paycheck for pussy- I could've done that with any town whore, anyhow. Though, that was then."

You look to the side, as if pretending to yourself that there's a way out of this. You should make some effort, at least. Then you can say you fought back and won't be so mad at yourself about it later.

"And what luck that it was you I ran into here, hm? I dare say fate is rewarding me for good behavior," Fellow smile, tapping the tip of your nose. "Maybe you, too. I bet those private school pricks don't know how to treat someone like you, hm?"

"...It's not like that," there's your voice, at least.

Fellow rolls his eyes. "Oh, sure it is. They're teenage boys- I was once one myself, believe it or not- if they're not already thinking about sticking their dicks in, they will be. Unless they're as blind as they are oblivious,"

He pinches the fat of your hip between his fingers again, laughing and leering over you.

"It doesn't take a genius to see that you were made to take cock,"

"Uh-? But I-"

"I'd be surprised if you haven't been passed around already. You know how teenage boys are,"

"N-no," you say, firmly enough for how your voice is trembling. "They're not... interested in me... in that way. Nothing's happened."

"Nothing's happened?" Fellow asks in a mocking tone, feigning shock with wide eyes and an O-shaped mouth, the look of innocence, before falling into a smirk. "Well, then- I was going to let you run off, but now that I know that, I think I should at least give you your first load before letting you go back to that spoiled rich place."

Ah, fuck.

Your eyes widen. "Um- I- I..." where are you going with this? "...Is that really how you speak to strangers?"

"No, just you,"

"...Right," you mutter. "M-maybe we should... talk about this, first-"

Fellow scoffs, though he's smiling, as if your complaints are funny to him. He presses you firmly against the wall of the alley, forcing a knee between your thighs and reveling in the wince you respond with.

"What, you don't like me? Think I'm diseased?"

You look away. "...No,"

"Well, you'd be right to worry," he mutters. "Come on, honey. Do I really look like a bad guy to you?"

You make a face at him, and he laughs.

"Oh, don't tell me you're still upset about that thing? That was months ago! I've reformed, changed! I'm an honest man now!"

"...You don't expect me to believe that-"

"I expect you to stop talking so much," he mutters, stopping his incessant petting of your side to pinch your cheek, and then squish your face between his hands. "You're too damn cute for those lazy pricks. It's a shame they haven't been using you the way you ought to be- though, I'm glad they haven't. Does that make me selfish?"

He knows the answer to that. It's hidden in his smirk, snarky though more sincere than before. He's enjoying himself, pinching and squeezing you and groping you like a stress ball.

"Just relax. It'll be over before you know it,"

Not promising, though you know he's not exactly concerned with your personal pleasure. You might as well be a porno mag or the warm touch of his palm, nothing more than something to entertain himself with.

It made you sort of dizzy, though you couldn't pinpoint exactly where that was coming from.

"...I can't keep them waiting," you murmur in a gentle admission of defeat. Fellow smiles, his fangs digging into his lower lip.

"That's alright, sweetie, that's alright," he coos. "We won't keep them waiting, will we? We'll be nice and quick."

His hand rests on the back of your head, cradling you- no holding you in a firm touch, his fingers squeezing around your neck, digging into the soft flesh as his lips press against yours. The kiss is not as brutish or bruising as you were anticipating. It is, rather, gentle, dozens of kisses peppered onto your waiting lips, pressed softly and quickly, though despite their delicacy each feels distinctly like he's stealing something away from you- your breath, your resistance, your sense of time. It's only when you've melted a little, become docile and small in his hands, does his forceful, unforgiving side return, his tongue filling your mouth and demanding yours in return. Everything to do with this man is an exchange. A kiss for a grope, a favor for a service, an eye for an eye. He forces your body closer to his with his free hand, digging into your hip and pressing you into the apex of his thigh, making you grind on him. It feels good, despite your better wishes not to enjoy this as much as Fellow is.

He pulls away, leaving the bitter taste of metal and the sting of last night's alcohol on your bitten lips, if only to use both hands in his pursuit of getting you wet enough not to tear anything. He's gentlemanly enough in that regard, you think, giving him an encouraging moan (why?) when he gently bounces his thigh under the beguiling movement of your hips.

"That's it... that's it..." he mutters, his body curved around yours in a certainly uncomfortable manner, shielding you from the world outside of his shoulders and chest. "You weren't lying, huh? They really don't fuck you at that school. You're so desperate for it, you're practically easy... taking it from a stranger... I bet your buddies would pay to see that, eh?"

"Don't want to think about them," you murmur into his shoulder.

He laughs. "Oh, but it'd be funny, wouldn't it? They'd be wide-eyed and slack-jawed, watching their cute little class crush moaning against a strange man's shoulder like a needy whore," his fingers dig deep into your hips and he forces you further onto him, the unforgiving friction sending a jolt of sensitivity through your clit. You yelp. He grins into your hair.

"I've fantasized about fucking you in that shitty control room for months. What I wouldn't have given to go back to that moment and bent you over the control panel. Would've put load after load in you- fuck,"

He stops himself, a strangled whine escaping his throat as you slide further down his thigh and push against his crotch.

"Ugh," he gasps. "Your pants, off."

It's amazing what the simplest of touches will do to him. If you were braver, and bigger, maybe you could have challenged the weak thread of authority he was clinging to- how easily it snapped the second you touched him, even if by accident. You almost wonder what else you could break in him, but that's a subject you're better off not worrying about now.

You peel off your pants, practically drenched in sweat and damp with wetness around the crotch (how you hate your excitable body) and let them crumple on the dirty gravel. Fellow wastes no time nor breath, forcing a hand between your legs to cup you through your underwear, feeling the heat coming off of you.

"Slut," he says, though it sounds more like an observation than an insult. As if he were talking about the weather.

He doesn't ask you to undress him, like some men would. He's perfectly happy with keeping his own pockets, empty as they are, far from your wandering eyes and prying hands. You almost don't want to look when he works out his cock, already erect and leaking to a comically lewd degree (and he called you the easy one...)

"It's rude to stare," he teases, even though his weak, breathy voice.

Fellow lifts one of your thighs as high as it will go, around his hip, forcing you to lean against the tin wall behind you with some difficulty. He doesn't feel the need to warn you when he's about to sink in, and so one moment you're thinking about the smell of metal lingering on your clothes, and the next you can't think of anything but the distinct sensation of something pushing between the walls of your cunt. It nearly knocks the wind out of you, though, all things considered, it's rather underwhelming. There's only the feeling of pressure in your lower stomach, and the trembling of Fellow's body beneath yours.

"Oh, f-fuck..." he mumbles, obviously having the time of his life. "Ah... fuck, damn it, shit..."

Is that how he's going to talk the whole time? Though you dare not speak; you're not sure you even could if you tried.

"...I knew it," he finally mutters, forcing more and more of his cock inside, or, rather, forcing you to take more by the firm grip he has on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

"You were made for this."

Some awkward, strange moaning noise comes from your throat, and he laughs, though his own voice is breathy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Hold still," he demands, keeping you in place until he's calmed himself down enough to start thrusting, though, again, weakly and shallowly, little movements of apathetic effort, or of barely constrained lust, you can't decide.

The tiny thrusts are enough to send shockwaves of arousal up your body- you had forgotten the simple feeling of pleasure, of lust, you had been trapped in this world and this tired, emaciated body for so long. When was the last time you truly had a moment to yourself? You were always with someone, misunderstood and mistreated by the people of this world, surrounded by their smiling faces and soft hands that never quite touched you, that never felt your body as if you were a person with weight.

There was something, then, gratifying about this encounter; disgusting as he was, and as shameful as you felt, Fellow Honest did not see you as some untouchable artifact, some ugly, divine thing. You were as human as he was, as fucked up and weak and poor, as desirable as any normal person should be. Not a ghost, not a beast, not a thing, not an alien, not an angel, just a lonely, disgusting little animal who needed to be fucked like one. Deserved it, maybe. Miserable little thing you were.

Maybe you liked the attention. Maybe you liked the thought of existing outside of Night Raven College, if only for a few minutes of unprotected sex with a dangerous stranger in an alley, clit sensitive and swollen but receiving no attention as his cock twitches inside you. It's almost summer. You're not sure if you'll even exist in a few months, when school has returned, but you exist now; perhaps more than you had before.

Playful Land had felt like a fever dream; but right now, being fucked by its former manager, is the most awake you've felt in months.

In a disgusting, vulnerable, human sort of way, like an open wound.

"Fucking- mm, fuck, I'm- you want to take my load, don't you?" Fellow mutters, fangs grazing against your shoulder, threatening to sink in. "You're gonna be a good whore and let me fuck my cum into you?"

You nod, not thinking twice about it- it feels as natural as the breeze coming from the sea some ways west.

"Good, fuck, you're so good-" he stiffens, legs shaking, shoving you hard against the wall again to take some of your weight off of his own body. You can only vaguely register the warm feeling of cum filling you, or at least the feeling of it dripping out, gravity at work.

Fellow pulls away after a moment, panting weakly, though there's that smirk on him again.

"You're a doll," he mutters, wiping tears you hadn't realized you'd cried off your cheek. "What'd I do to deserve such good treatment, hm?"

Nothing. You shrug, tired despite not having cum. You don't really feel like seeing the game anymore- nothing sounds more appealing than a good nap, except for maybe sitting on Fellow's face for a few hours.

"Mmmhm," he mutters, snapping your underwear back into place when he pulls out, the red lines of friction indented in your skin where it had been forced to the side. "I haven't had virgin pussy in..."

He pauses, stuffing his limp dick back in his pants.

"...Well, ever, I suppose. A man could get used to that."

Fellow offers you your pants back, pointlessly brushing some gravel off of the front. You don't want to go through the trouble of redressing yourself, but you do. Not like you have a choice. And you couldn't say no to him, anyhow.

"Done now?" you finally ask, watching Fellow zip up his pants. He shrugs.

"Guess so. Thanks for the pick-me-up, sweetie,"

You grimace, something gross settling in the pit of your stomach as he heads for the mouth of the alley. Off to become another dream, another memory you don't speak of, a pinless location on a map.

"Wait,"

Fellow stops, turning over his shoulder, his eyebrows arched in apathetic half-curiosity, his ears perked up.

You hesitate, open your mouth, hesitate again, and-

"Do you... need a place to stay, for a few months?"

#twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #fellow honest x reader

39 notes · View notes

gerogerigaogaigar · 2 days ago

Text

I wasn't expecting GQuuuuuuX to only run one cour. I'll admit I was hoping to get a full ~50 episode series. Shō ga nai 🤷🏻‍♀️

Uhh yeah so the characters from this universe having to fight off a gigantic version of the UC rx-78-2 in order to survive is so on the nose that I don't think it warrants further analysis. The fact that GQuuuuuuX takes place in a recursive au formed by the psychic torment of a version of Lalah who is herself from a different au of the UC where Char dies instead of her is a more interesting detail. Amateur and Nyaan fighting for their right to exist as derivative characters against not the actual og 1979 Gundam but a derivative Gundam that still represents the idea of the OG series maybe says something about how the interpretation of a piece of art we hold in our heads isn't the piece of art itself but a derivative that has, by being interacted with as art, had our own ideas added to it. Y'know like art is an interactive process and stuff. GQuuuuuuX is a version of reality dreamed up by UC Lalah, but UC Lalah is a version of herself dreamed up by a creator who was already a fan of hers. Anthy from Utena was inspired by Lalah from Gundam so a version of Lalah written by the guy who made Anthy is gonna be fundamentally different from the original from before Anthy existed. Man I'm rambling. I think I'm just blindly trying to back my way into Plato's cave or something.

Oh Challia Bull seemingly glimpsing other worlds and seeing what Char is like as a leader was pretty good. And this Char being able to say "hey maybe I should try to live up to my ideals instead of being a martyr for them" is neat. He's infinitely more stable in a world where he never gets involved with Amuro.

Speaking of Amuro. So Amuro speaks through GQuuuuuuX at the end there and apparently GQuuuuuuX was made with parts that came from the other universe so like??? Is Amuro's soul powering it? I'm gonna chalk this up to being the kind of metaphorical shit that doesn't warrant a watsonian explanation, same with the Gundam growing three sizes that day.

Ok what are my inane thoughts now. We got to see a Zock for like six seconds! UC Char had his original voice in the flashback that was a fun little detail. I think with another cour at least I would have bought the ShujiXAmate ship more. Still feels like a throuple would have made more sense, but writers are cowards. Don't worry in my au of this au of an au I promise that Nyaan and Amate will discover their feelings for each other as they search for Shuji. And that's exactly the kind nonsense this series seems to be advocating for! It should have done more to link the meta concepts with the tenuous political state of the world though. Anyway it's a 7/10 type show for me. The masturbatory stuff amounted to more than nothing, but my standards for masturbatory self analysis are pretty high. On a scale of Fight Club 2 to Grant Morrison's Animal Man I'd rate this as a Stanley Parable.

#gquuuuuux spoilers #gundam #gquuuuux #mobile suit gundam

27 notes · View notes

akanemnon · 43 minutes ago

Note

Hi akane.

So I wanna know how you come up with a good funny comic.

Because I wanna do a comic in the future. But I have a bit of trouble with creating an actual funny and appealing comic.

That is actually something that can't really be taught that easily through a simple explanation. Unlike with art where there are visual tricks and workarounds, this is all writing-based.

This will be a longer read, so answer under the cut.

Humor is very subjective. Everyone finds different things funny. I am someone who enjoys character-based humor for example. I'm also not a big fan of telling easy jokes myself. The kind of jokes that are repeated in the fandom many times. All power to you if you love them though! Can't help but enjoy a good meme. These kinda jokes are actually used in The Other Script however as a sort of love letter to the fandom itself. BUT the way I use them is to explore these charcaters and their dynamics. In a transformative way so to speak. Lemme use a direct example: So there is this scene in The Other Script where Frisk is upset and really sad. Previously they were venting their frustration that Kris wasn't telling them anything about their previous adventures. So Kris circles back to that and as a way to cheer up Frisk they do the "Kris get the banana" bit from Chapter 2.

It is a direct reference, but it is used in a way that makes sense in the story. It's not a random gag. It's used in a situation where it is applicable. So as you can see the way I write is very character-centric in general.

So if you also are most interested in character-based humor, what you can do is explore the characters you wanna write about. Their behavior, the way they talk, what they like, what they dislike, how they react in certain situations. Most of the comedy already comes from putting contrasting characters together. Characters can also just be funny on their own with how they interact with the world around them.

But who knows? Maybe you prefer puns! Maybe you like slapstick! Or silly humor! Or dark humor! There are TONS of different ways to go about it. Find out what you find funniest and play into that. Sometimes a good frame of inspiration is all you need. Maybe there were movies and TV shows you really gravitated towards when it came to the jokes they were telling. In the end, it is about what YOU think is funny. There will always be other people who might vibe with your brand of humor and others who won't. There are probably plenty of people who don't get my brand of humor. And that's okay. I'm grateful enough there are already a lot of people who think I'm funny. Which you might be one of them, since you asked me about a humor-based question.

So yeah, TDLR ask yourself what you find funniest and find the right inspiration to work into your comic.

#ask akane #art talk #the other script #writing #queued post

33 notes · View notes

phineasandferbs · 3 days ago

Text

[breaks fingers off] now it's time to scream about the revised series bible

candace now being downgraded to "potential fly in their ointment" 💀 but also 😊

"spurred on by a fifteen year-old girl’s natural desire for control, order and normalcy" CANDACE BABY GIRL 🥺

"needless to say, like most healthy young boys, phineas and ferb have a pet platypus named perry" they're funnyyyyyyy

of course all age refs for p&f are removed in this one

"in terms of character, phineas is who he is, almost more so than any other character [...] since he has no achilles heel he must overcome in order to succeed, his character is not built for story arcs that change and evolve who he is. also, without the seed of self-defeat or self-destruction planted inside him, he has difficulty recognizing it in others. this keeps him focused and optimistic. it also helps make it understandable why he his [sic] baffled by these aspects in others and remains unaware of candace’s negative, self-destructive determination to bust him. phineas truly doesn’t understand why people don’t view life the way he does, but he never judges them for it [...] he is like a used car salesman who actually has the best cars in the world" i'm WEEPING!!! phineas flynn i love you with my whole heart!!! he doesn't have obstacles to success, he doesn't need to grow or change, he doesn't even understand self-doubt, he would never judge anyone for being different from him despite not getting it, he is a 👏 USED 👏 CARS 👏 SALESMAN 👏 WHO 👏 ACTUALLY 👏 HAS 👏 THE 👏 BEST 👏 CARS 👏 IN 👏 THE 👏 WORLD 👏 like my boy will promise you the world, the most unbelievable deal that common sense says has to be a scam but he'll deliver 😭 literally everything to me

"throughout the first season, phineas naturally and organically became more layered and dimensional as different situations and interactions further developed the 'who he is' of his personality" this special show <3333 the way it let itself grow and develop despite its formulaic nature that would make it a no-brainer for it to force it to stay the same

"faced with TWO goals at odds with each other can create a bit of a bump in the road for phineas, but these instances are either VERY quickly resolved or best left to be explored in longer form movies and specials" them explicitly saying we can have angry phineas only for specials and movies like angry!phineas is the fine china we can only bring out when we have guests we want to impress lol

well they didn't fix the misspelling of radar's name but he's still mentioned so a win's a win 🤷

describing ferb as "sphinx-like" precious precious boy 🥰

"he does not actively avoid speaking. he just rarely needs to talk because he and phineas are always on the same page" oh my god,,,,,, ferb doesn't need to speak because phineas speaks for them both [we already knew this] i'm having a breakdown,,,, they are EVERYTHING TO ME

"ferb is the guy who builds the greatest cars in the world, which is the reason phineas has such confidence in his words" oh my fucking god.......................phineas' confidence is rooted in ferb's abilities....... these two....... these two........ also thinking about how this was written while they were writing summer belongs to you where phineas and ferb give a pep talk to candace about believing in herself on the basis that she believes in them and they believe in her so she believes in herself all the while phineas believes in them because he believes in ferb..... oh, i am ill with love i fear

"but to say phineas is actually the idea man isn’t exactly the case. many times, hit with a bolt of inspiration from whatever they both just saw or heard, phineas will announce that HE knows what they are going to do that day, as if ferb had to follow his brother around, bent and broken to his will. the truth is ferb’s always hit with the same bolt of inspiration as his brother" what if you were twins and soulmates but you weren't actually biologically related and were born across the sea from one another but the universe still brought you together...... the most important babies in the world to me forever

"it’s best not to focus on the fact ferb doesn’t talk, though - he just doesn’t. instead, explore the ways in which his silence is a strength" guh i really do love this aspect of the show like the way ferb being very quiet is never treated as a bad thing and here they are explicitly stating it's a strength in the bible because there's nothing wrong with it 🥰

"although his silence could make him SEEM like a second banana, ferb is very much phineas’ equal. in this way, they are a two-headed machine built for making every day count" me when the titular pair of the show are in fact a pair: 🫢 god i love hearing it stated like this though <33333

"unlike phineas, though, who uses these immense powers in service of his positive attributes, candace uses her same powers in the service of her ego, fears, suspicion, paranoia, etc" oh candace, my beloved.... she's just a girl fr

"the point is no matter what Candace’s story is, the fun is to [...] to watch her scream at all the trees to move so she can see the forest" oh candace flynn, my dearly beloved darling girl ❤️ luv this as a summary of her role in the show

"it’s a catch-22 (like getting into sag)." oh they're making industry jokes now, huh?

"we are planning a feature length special in which candace and jeremy share their first kiss under the eiffel tower in paris" FASCINATING! so they were planning to have them kiss there (did we already know this? i feel like dwampy&co may have already revealed this, it feels vaguely familiar). also this being summer belongs to you's only outright mention is making me fond

"mainly, though, candace just wants to be a normal fifteen-year-old girl, and phineas and ferb’s lack of desire to be normal bratty little brothers is an endless source of annoyance for her" she just wants them to annoying brats but instead they're so good that it's even more annoying to her soooo precious

linda flynn-fletcher your odd clubs and classes will always be famous 2 me. iconic and beyond reproach

"on the other hand, lawrence is actually used more than perhaps even originally intended and the stories where he is a more central character show he has developed a sort of fun, absent-minded-professor quality which adds a lot to the episodes in which he appears" and thank god

"perry’s lack of facial reaction (or any kind of reaction, for that matter) when he’s in Pet Mode also holds true for him in Agent Mode" the way this eroded way in times of great love for both the boys and doof many times in the series 🥰🥰🥰 (and i wish it would again with the new eps but that's not what we're talking about rn)

"[perry's] countenance is virtually unbreakable" thinking about perry's look of devastation when doof dumps him in last day of summer and floating

"an agent can’t let his feelings shade his judgment, and it is for this reason that perry will not get involved with a female platypus. he’s too well trained to be tempted, and even though his theme song suggests that the ladies swoon for him, he knows better. it won’t happen. focus elsewhere!" DYING at the thought dwampy had to put this in because disney execs wouldn't stop trying to force heterosexuality on this playpus 😭😭😭 also all i'm saying is not mention of perry not getting involved with a male human........ suspicious that 👀

"perry cares deeply about his 'host family,' especially phineas and ferb, [...] his relationship with the boys is filled with the same unconditional affection as any other pet/owner relationship" i literally feel ILL over how much i love them holy shit

"as for perry’s relationship to his nemesis, dr. doofenshmirtz, [...] what began as a simple archenemy situation has developed into a very complex relationship because they both literally spend almost all day together, every day. they are like an old married couple - who want the other one to die painfully. they are like best friends - but with ray guns and fist fights" crazyyyyy they were perryshmirtz-ing on main in 2008.... also the way it started as simple enemies and became something more organically is truly sooooo special that's why it's the greatest ship <333333

"it’s as if they are both duty bound to be mortal enemies when they are on the clock, but at quitting time they’d hang out and watch videos and travel together" oh my god....... this is actually INSANE. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY WANT TO CASUALLY HANG OUT AND DO SOMETHING SO DOMESTIC AND CASUAL AS WATCHING VIDEOS TOGETHER. WHAT IS A BETTER EXPRESSION OF WANTING TO BE WITH SOMEONE THAN WANTING TO DO NOTHING WITH THEM. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY WANT TO TRAVEL TOGETHER. THEY WANT TO TAKE LITTLE VACATIONS OFF THE CLOCK AND GO SEE THE WORLD LIKE SOME KIND OF HONEYMOON, HUH? WHAT IN THE ULTIMATE ROMANCE IS THIS.............

"it sometimes seems if perry is annoyed by [doof's ineptitude at being evil] to the point of giving doofenshmirtz a hand just to make the game a bit more interesting" imaging perry out here like "i can fix him" while doof is out here like "wait how do i play pool... i guess you'll have to teach me...."

"the bane of Perry’s existence (for reasons other than he wants, sadly)" i think this is referring to how hopeless doof is at evil but i'm taking this as gay. amen.

"doofenshmirtz is basically an evil genius with very poor planning skills or a very stupid man with great planning skills. either way, his plans are often destined to fail even before perry shows up, and the issue quickly becomes how to save doofenshmirtz from his own plan" oh my god the way this literally reads like doof is just bad at evil to get perry to show up and save him........ 🫢🫢🫢

"doofenshmirtz always calls perry “perry-the-platypus” as if he thinks that’s his first name" it's a beloved nickname akin to calling your partner baby when you think about it. change my mind.

"'agent p.,' which is how [monogram] always refers to his star agent" monogram viewing perry as his job, p&f viewing perry the same as if he's another member of the family and doof viewing perry as both who he is and what he is... something is here but i don't have to properly analyze and articulate it

"monogram’s formal but affectionate, boss/employee relationship with perry" thinking about this hard-ass secret agent perry with such a web of people he cares deeply about <33333333333

ah karl back when they spelt it with a "k"

calling vanessa seventeen years old while writing s2 when she turned sixteen this summer in s1......

"[doof's] focus on the evil sciences leaves [vanessa] feeling neglected and misunderstood" BABY GIRL NOOOOOO 😢

okay and they added that isabella is nine years old to the bible at some point like uh??

"while isabella’s crush on phineas surely remains intact, it is touched upon rarely (unlike candace and jeremy) and is mainly used on occasion for shading and coloring her motives. isabella is, apart from ferb, phineas’ best friend, and it is as if that deep bond came first, and, as in real life, isabella matured earlier and the bond deepened to a crush for her sooner. either way, isabella’s disappointment over this is rarely really played up, although the romantic side of their relationship is inched along in small steps every once in a while" this sooooooooo sweet, i love them!!!! sweethearts!!!

"jeremy has a good sense of humor about candace’s odd behavior sometimes, and it even seems to be part of her charm to him. she’s just not like all the other girls" noooo they pick-me'd candace "this shows a more dimensional personality for jeremy than most popular, worried-about-always-looking-cool, hunky guys seem to have" nvm they also pick-me'd jeremy, thereby cancelling out candace's pick-me-ing and making it sweet again ❤️ they're not like anyone else and they're special, that's all!

"buford first appeared as a fairly stereotypical bully, but he has somehow managed to work his way into being among phineas and ferb’s close circle of friends" i am olivia wilde nodding rn

"among his own pals, buford’s best friend is ironically the group’s biggest nerd, baljeet" vs baljeet's paragraph not mentioning buford :( but also still best friend status already confirmed in 2008!!!

"as the first season developed and phineas and ferb occasionally offered help to others, baljeet slowly came to rely on and then expect their help. soon an element of selfish entitlement began creeping into his attitude toward the boys" is it selfish if the boys are happy to give it 😕

the bible talking about how stacy's figure skating "can be explored more in second season" ....uh oh, guess what didn't happen... i do wonder why though!!

"equally sadly, jenny has appeared in only two episodes. she is certainly a character to be developed in the second season where her usefulness in more stories will help evolve and define her traits" oof the way they literally tried so hard to make django and jenny happen but it just wasn't meant to be 🤷

suzy being seen as important enough to merit a character description is wilddddd

"in the show, the tri-state area is almost used as the boundary of the known universe" this is precious to me!!!!!! like yes going to england and the moon is the same thing because it's all outside of the tri-state area

"these three (as yet) unnamed states" oh damn so they were open to possibly naming the states..... interesting..... very interesting....

"the planet earth, in its entirety, is where it all takes place. except when they leave earth - which they’ve done. twice. (phineas and ferb own a milkshake bar at the edge of the cosmos, and candace is actually the queen of the martian people. go figure.)" i love the little jokes they've added it adds a layer of confidence that wasn't previously there which is real great <333

now why is rollercoaster listed as 105 in the loglines

also unfair science fair being 133 vs the redux being 149 in the loglines

also also they definitely skipped some numbers in the loglines i wonder what that means

more leaks!

original show bible (06/08/06)

revised show bible (02/29/08)

#phineas and ferb #i tried very hard to remove the capitalization of the words i copied so if i missed any pretend i didn't and i still seem cool #(except of course for the capitalization of emphasis which obviously is always cool)#i have to be up at 7 am tomorrow like i have to show up at work and be like i stayed up too late because bts info on phineas and ferb leake #worth it....

235 notes · View notes

sketchy-tour · 1 year ago

Note

Excuse me but could you please tell me what makes a good story? I am currently studying structuring and storywriting and I am looking for other people's opinion. Thank you.

Hm. Well I'm not exactly a fantastic story writer myself but as a consumer of content, I find I'm usually drawn to the characters and world building of stories!

How the characters interacts with the world itself and eachother! Characters you can relate to and a world that feels real to the characters and thus feels real to you.

Does that make sense? Dunno if it helps at all!

#ask #just rambling #i think thats what drew me into Welcome Home #the characters and the world itself that they interact with #the characters themselves are certainly one of my favorite aspects of WH #they feel so alive and full of personality and fun and theyre dynamic #they dont feel one note to me #anywhomst!!!!

24 notes · View notes

serpentface · 11 months ago

Text

Faiza performing the Kagnoma Odo (pretty literally 'lion dance'), a weapons dance and one of the more important ritual duties of Odonii priestesses. A relatively new addition to this traditional dance involves the musket as the primary weapon, which is fired mid-twirl into the ground at the climax of the dance. Faiza is experiencing an 'oh fuck' moment because her shot is more than ideally diagonal, but she’s being so cool with it.

This is a wholly ceremonial performance at the onset of the pilgrimage, performed in full regalia and lion skin (of the small, semi-domesticated strain) but no armor. It’s also distinctly a display of political allegiance between the powerful and beloved Odonii priesthood (and its loyal military) with the increasingly reviled and destabilized imperial family, with Faiza prominently wearing a bracelet of the royal serpent, which was gifted (along with the musket) by the usoma Stavis Amanti himself (Usoma is the Wardi word for king, which has been retained in the context of emperors).

The Kagnoma Odo is the ultimate demonstration of the Odonii as an embodiment of the Lion Face of God and living vessel of military might and sovereignty, demonstrating her fitness and proficiency with weapons and as a spiritual unifier for soldiers. It is accompanied by drumming and occurs in stages, running through the three keymost weapons used in war- the spear, the sword, and the musket. The musket is of the most significance, given the weapon has developed a particular esteem as the ultimate embodiment of might and superiority. Assistants (almost always other priestesses, occasionally high ranking soldiers) load and prime the musket to be fired at the climax of the dance, where it is shot into the ground as the priestess leaps out of range of the shot. The firing signals the end of the dance and the rite itself.

While not the utmost exemplar of trigger discipline, only fully inducted and senior (and therefore very thoroughly trained) Odonii are permitted to perform the dance, and injuries during actual performances are quite rare (though are known to occur during training, more than a few Odonii have burns and wounds on their feet).

The most important renditions of this dance are performed upon declarations of war and before battles (in this case, generally done in full armor along with the lion pelt). It is also done during some trainings (while a dance, it is carefully choreographed to include naturalistic maneuvers of the weapons involved and helps soldiers limber up and learn to move their weapons). It is regarded as an impressive and motivating sight and a morale booster, and, seen at a distance, potentially intimidating to enemies.

A special variant of this dance is performed as means of fully incarnating the Odomache, which is done in full nudity with the body covered in the blood of the freshly sacrificed lion and cloaked in its raw pelt (the lion has become the corpse of Odomache in the moment of death, as part of its recreation of God's sacrifice). Her public, full nude appearance once (and only once) in this act is what allows the Lion Face of God to incarnate within her. Those in attendance see the spiritually vulnerable, naked human body obscured with the sanctified and deified blood and cloaked in the sanctified and deified skin. It is a merger of the contradictions of mortality and divinity, the boundaries between the two indistinct in flickering firelight and the flash of musketfire. She is witnessed by her people, dangling in between humanity and divinity and leading them in dance, and and is thus transformed.

#faiza haidamane #Not really relevant to the core post itself but I don't have anywhere to put this #Faiza is a pretty extreme cultural rarity in that she's something along the lines of agnostic (regardless of her priestesshood)#It's a culturally specific form of agnosticism where the notion that God continues to exist and interact with the world in spirit form is #questioned. She personally gets the distinct vibe that God truly and wholly died in the act of creation and is no longer present #This isn't just a Her Thing it's a concept that comes up in some strains of religious philosophy but it's pretty rare #Orthopraxy is SIGNIFICANTLY more important to the faith of the seven faced god than orthodoxy so her merely thinking this isn't #a fundamental issue as long as she performs all expected rites and behaviors and etc (which she does quite devotedly) but it would #definitely not be socially accepted to openly proclaim (least of all from a senior priestess devoted to maintaining the connection of God's #spirit to Its lands and people) and she keeps it to herself.#She is the only main character who WHOLLY doesn't expect the pilgrimage and rites to end the drought. She doesn't fully DISbelieve #either (kind of like 'well maybe?') but for her this is all a very pragmatic political maneuver to stabilize the crumbling empire and #regain the people's faith in its leadership. It's not fully cynical like it means a lot to her but in a sense of very practically protectin #her beloved empire rather than a more spiritual sentiment.#It's very complicated for her like she takes her role very seriously and cares deeply for her faith while not actually believing #in it in any personal sense. More about what it represents to her than what it's supposed to literally be.#the white calf

322 notes · View notes

marielle555 · 2 days ago

Note

Thank you so much! Everything you said is spot on. And helped me realize, what it is this feeling that at one time specifically ruined the perception of BG3. Metagaming. I'm a big fan of DnD and RPGs as well. Before I met BG3, I'd had the great pleasure of going through both Pathfinder games and a few other interesting games before that and they gave me quite a few amazing hours of immersion in a fantasy world. BG3 also first gave me that immersion, and then threw me out of it, making me become for a while an exceptionally sad average person from real life, sitting next to a PC screen and writing feedback, in which behind the “wall of text” hid the same meaning: "***! What the ***! Fix your *** in the game!" A unique gaming experience and a uniquely striking contrast, the likes of which I couldn't have imagined if I hadn't encountered in person - an amazing, truly extraordinary character - Astarion, who makes you fall in love with him so much, that you simply don't want anyone else, that I didn't want to give up on him “without a fight” after patch 6, and such, to put it mildly, “ flaws” in his romance, that if someone had told me about it in advance, before I had time to get attached to the character personally, I would not only never touch this game, but even the studio itself with any other projects I would probably avoid it like the plague. But thanks to this interaction with a real player, I learned a lot of new information - what a non-con is, what modern game-therapy approach to healing trauma is, how bad it is to sexualize game characters, and that “all modern vampires,” it turns out, are “tragic”…

Why should I even care what they have going on with “modern” vampires? I bought BG3 because I adored the BG series games, I need Faerûn to be there, my character needs to be a resident of it, and she fell in love with a vampire on Faerûn. This world exists separate from all this “modernity”, therapy language, all this ‘'sexualization’' stuff, some rules of ‘'healthy/unhealthy relationships’' and whatever else is fashionable at this particular stage concretely in Western culture. This world has its own lore, its own rules by which it exists. This idea of “vampire fetishization” that “should” bother a vampire-Astarion, living on Faerûn, completely spits on DnD's lore. And that "There's nothing more desirable in the world than a vampire, is there? “, which completely defies logic, and is in irresolvable contradiction with realistic and actual: ”People don't trust vampires - perhaps understandably - so I needed to get someone on my side“, makes Astarion cease to be Astarion, and become a signboard for those, who for some unknown reason wanted to declare vampire romance as something ‘bad’ and ”unhealthy". And replace it with a healthy sexualization of bears to “improve society”, no other way…

Up until Act 3, the game was going great. There were some rough edges and “stumbles” that didn't kill, but somewhat spoiled the immersion, like the inability to tell the companions trying to seduce Tav, that you are already in a relationship with Astarion. The first sense that you're not the hero of the story comes in the dialogue with Halsin, when that line about you already being in a relationship comes off as completely obnoxious, as if you're okay with Halsin's proposal despite Astarion's love... And you're no longer the heroine of the story, but a boring monogamous heterosexual woman, who has to realize that being monogamous isn't cool or modern. Okay, here I can still imagine that the heroine of the story, unlike me, is a slight-talker, and isn't going to spend any more time on Halsin than it takes to say one word: “No” and move on. But in Act 3 it's just not possible anymore, when you can't pick a line in a scene because they're all no good, but you have to poke your mouse at something or the game won't continue, it's a really awful feeling. And yeah, without spoilers we can't know for sure, without spoilers I honestly assumed that “I want your body” was also some other modern day bullshit, like “it's cool to talk frankly about sex” because the game itself is unabashedly sexualized, with everyone hitting on Tav all the time, including illithid. It was just done poorly, but without spoilers I didn't realize it was done intentionally.

And after the check with mind-reading and “you're degrading yourself...”, to which it is impossible to react, for the first time in my life I had an acute desire for negative interaction through “kinetic discussion” directly with the author of the scene, especially because of the combination of these rails with the ‘possibility’ of “kicking him in the balls”. Why was such an abomination added, filmed, and no normal reactions? I generally find it disgusting that the game has such an “opportunity” and the only way to justify it in and of itself would be if it was possible to hit everyone, absolutely everyone in the game in cutscenes - Karlach, Jaheira, Wyll, Shadowheart, Gale, Lae'zel, Halsin, Mystra (in Gale Origins), only then would it pass as an opportunity for roleplay. This kind of feeling seems to be due to a side effect of Welch's desire to constantly interact directly with the player rather than the character, the player also starts thinking about “Who wrote this?!” instead of enjoying their favorite escapism.

The only thing that makes the situation better and allows you to continue enjoying the game is the mods and the realization, that Astarion can't think you helped him ascend just because you're thirsty for vampire lords. I used to not be very fond of mods, even cosmetic ones, so as not to disrupt the original story in any way or bring something into the fantasy world that couldn't be in it. BG3 was an exception - mods become a “magic pill”, modders are amazingly talented and, what is especially nice, mods do not break immersion, but, on the contrary, help it, making the story better and more realistic.

I agree with you, and I can't say that Baudelaire Welch is a bad writer. It's entirely possible that they are a good writer. They are a bad scriptwriter for RPG games. A player character in an RPG should not be any kind of “narrative tool”, much less one with emotions spelled out by the author. Even Tav's inappropriate facial expressions at many plot points are annoying. This would be fine in a game with a pre-made character, who already has their own appearance, personality, and backstory, but in a game, where you create your own character, it spoils the game. And it could easily be avoided by simply moving the camera more often to companions or NPCs at times, when the PCs' emotional reactions might be different - the player knows how they feel about it, and besides, looking at a companion while talking to them is much more realistic than looking “at yourself”. And when you're a character in someone else's fanfic, why doesn't the game description say FPG (fanficplay game)? It would be better to invent a new genre than to cheat fans of a genre that has been around for a long time. And the very idea of inviting a fanfic author is really bad, since the script should be written by a professional screenwriter. Wouldn't Stephen Rooney, a professional screenwriter, have written the entire Astarion's romance on his own? A screenwriter of that caliber, who clearly doesn't need anyone to “help” him with his writing at all. Fane's romance in Divinity 2 was perfectly written, and if I'm not mistaken, there was no “special writer” for the romances when Larian did Divinity 2, and there were no major problems with the romances in Divinity either. The fanfiction community has always been perfectly fine gathering around any interesting game setting, people were perfectly fine realizing their fantasies using RPG plots written by professional screenwriters. And among the authors of Astarion fanfics there are people, who write better than Baudelaire Welch, Larian could at least organize a fair contest, if they wanted to add a fanfiction author to the scripting team....

And the anti-AA “fandom” is made up of people who don't understand a damn thing about roleplaying, RPGs, or DnD. Astarion “loses his soul” (I think that even sounds ridiculous to any DM or relatively experienced DnD player), then he has “textbook signs of abuser” (you can take a textbook, find signs of abuser in anti-AA themselves, find signs of abuser in Tav in the UA route - it's not hard, but I'd really like to do without textbooks at all, which can't be written on Faerûn). “Your Tav feels this or that, your Tav is ‘”asking for freedom“’, right down to multiple statements about real players really '”wanting a hot vampire daddy“, ”gooners", and so on. Maybe some “media literate” people need someone to write everything for them, including reality, need authorities to tell them what to think, what to say, and who are the ‘'gooners’' here, but I would hate to be forced to apply my own media literacy to games, figuring out what's the reason that my game is being ruined, what's the “agenda” and what's the preaching in honor of. When in the real world you need this very media literacy to be able to separate facts from lies, in a game you want to take a break from it all. The very essence of escapism is a temporary escape from reality. People whose level of “literary literacy” is at the level of a middle school student, when it is necessary to memorize from the textbook “what the author wanted to say”, to mumble it or write it in an essay and get praise for it, are probably attracted by such simplistic stories about “the cycle of abuse”, “power corrupts” and they accept the metagame and the author's attempts to “teach them”, the main thing is that it was clear, what button to press and how to sexualize someone correctly, so that they could write “good person” in their notebook for it. But I personally buy a book, when I want to read a book, and watch a movie, when I want to be a spectator, and the main pleasure of RPG is the possibility of immersion, the possibility of being inside these events, personal interaction with the characters. If you don't like a book, you can easily drop it, if the series has gone downhill, you can just stop watching it and find another one, but when your character in an RPG is replaced by a doppelgänger created by the author and you can't do anything about it - it's a completely different feeling. And when they try to force you to part with your beloved character, your LI, who looked at you through the screen and interacted with you and not with the heroine of the series - that's a completely different feeling too.

In Daeran romance (Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous) there is a moment, where you can kill the character Liotr, who has learned his secret. Daeran can also kill him himself, you can persuade Liotr, and not kill him. Funny thing is, I found out about the fact that you can choose not to kill him after playing the game by reading the guide, I also found out that it's killing a story NPC, turns out to be a very bad thing, “doing evil for Daeran's sake” according to some people. And I seem to have gotten what is considered his “evil ending” or not, I don't know, the ending was great and very happy, was too lazy to dig further on the internet to find out what it was called. The main thing is that the authors didn't try to “teach” me at all, there was no “very bad” in the game, immersion wasn't interrupted for a second. Pathfinder is perfectly playable blind, without requiring a single spoiler or any guides during the first playthrough. You can read the guides afterwards to marvel at the possible branching of the scenario and the thoughtfulness of the plot and wonder: “Wow, it was possible even that way!” I would never have thought, “being inside the plot”, that it would be possible to let someone who knows such a terrible secret of my beloved person live, and killing Liotr feels like a necessary decision. Yes, an evil act, but an evil act in a “do what you have to do” kind of way, sometimes you have to get your hands dirty, and I wasn't even robbed of the alignment of chaotic-good for that act. In Daeran's romance, there's a line for the PCs, “I will always support you” or “I will always be on your side” (not verbatim) that you choose, and interestingly enough, it's a non-alignment line - love has no alignments, it's something more important than '‘good’ and “evil”. In BG3 for Astarion, we don't have anything like that after he Ascended. Although there was a similar answer in one of the dialogs before that, in the dialog when Astarion wants to find the other spawns. Where did that intention then disappear to? In the same dialog with Daeran, next to this main line, there was also a line leaning the player's alignment “towards good” - something about “you can always be a better person”, something in memory directly giving away the waibes of the UA route. And the line “towards evil” - something about Daeran being a tool for you. When such a line is just there - well, maybe that's how someone roleplays, it doesn't get in the way. In a good RPG bad lines are not noticeable, you just slip a glance and choose another, “your” line, and they can not be called bad, when they are not imposed on anyone, when it is one of many options. In Daeran's romance, it's one “evil” line. In the dialog after the ritual, it's ALL lines. “I want to become a vampire” and “I want your body” - Astarion is seen as a “tool” for Tav + two lines for lecturing and scolding.

After I killed Liotr, Daeran didn't think I was “sexualizing” him. When Daeran says “freedom at last” and you ask him why, he says: “because it's the most beautiful thing, except life itself, and many fail to appreciate it”. The Ascended Astarion would probably think the same thing, not that I “lust for him as a vampire”. When I asked Daeran “does he feel lonely around me” in the romantic dialog, he said “no, especially after you got your hands dirty for me”. And Astarion has instead “You're degrading yourself by staying with him...” And one really gets sad for such a unique and wonderful character like Astarion, when you compare the writing of his romance to Daeran's romance, which was written by professional screenwriters.

“Escapism is the main point of any roleplaying game” - thank you, and I'd awfully like to see studios that produce roleplaying games have a sign with that inspirational phrase hanging in an office somewhere.

I often read that Astarion has two authors, Rooney and Welch. I'd be interested to know what influence Welch had on the AA story. Some also say that his story was "watered down" by Larian. Objectively, though, only Tav's facial expressions changed, so I don't know what else would have changed in his story. Thanks for your answer.

Baudelaire Welch, a former “the companion character designer lead” who has been working on Baldur's Gate 3 as “the romance feature lead”, in their own words, “wrote quite a few of the Astarion romance dialogues in the later period of production”. Unfortunately, this author's work, their views, and their personal perception of how game romances affect real-life romances have been largely a bad influence on the romance of Ascended Astarion. It was Welch's view that the Ascension was a “bad ending” for Astarion that was subsequently hyped by AA haters (Stephen Rooney, the author of Astarion, himself corrected this by saying that the Ascension was not Astarion's ‘bad’ ending, it was his “evil” ending). Their somewhat twisted understanding of romance and desire to make the players feel like failures was expressed in this one:

Article: "Baldur's Gate 3 writer's explanation of Astarion's 'bad' ending is a wake-up call for players lusting over RPG characters".

This kind of insult to the audience, the portrayal of players as sex-crazed (which was later used heavily against Astarion's fans) goes a long way towards explaining where this single mind-reading check in the game came from, which is impossible to react to, and provides no additional options for interaction. The author “wrote” a certain sex-crazed player, creating scenes without the possibility of any roleplay. Accordingly, the scene of dialog with the worst lines (“I want your body”, etc.) and the same impossibility of roleplay, also belongs to Welch's pen. As a player I can only reply: "I failed to see a good RPG in the third act. It's beyond my understanding of classic RPG games". These lines and this check have already been criticized and discussed many times, but the essence of the logic of this narrative is best conveyed here:

(Picture taken from Larian forum, author Ametris, was published on the forum during the period of active indignation of players after patch 6)

How the author managed to ascribe such motivation to the players is, of course, a mystery, as is where the theme of sex is traced during the Ascension ritual, why Astarion can be helped without having romance with him, and why sex can be refused (the romance is preserved). And of course, for submitting to this imposed narrative, the player who leaves Astarion a spawn forever will be rewarded with sex. But without the cutscene. As for the post-Ascension sex scene itself, Welch claimed she didn't know it existed.

Thank you so much to Larian's animation team! You are the best! We can roughly conclude from this that the Welch's authorship of the scene of the night after the Ascension may only include the lines. I even suppose that the very notes of the developers for this scene could belong to Stephen Rooney himself (but this is only an assumption, it is impossible to find information about who wrote these notes).

These developer notes clearly describe how Astarion and Tav love each other and how Astarion is powerful and free. So, thanks for everything we love about this scene, to the animators and to Neil and his beautiful acting. And if you compare the lines for the player, you'll see a strong difference in the quality of writing compared to other scenes of Astarion's romance - Act 1 scene (this scene is written by Stephen Rooney and it's great) everything is fine with the roleplay, Act 3 is a scene of 4 bad lines, it's just impossible to make a choice while maintaining immersion. You can even just compare Tav's facial expression in act 1 scene (when you offer Astarion your neck and he bites you) - the facial expression is adequate to the situation, it's real, as it should be - a smile, you can see that Tav is enjoying it, and in act 3 they imposed a stupid frowning face, and the surprise is as if it's the first time Astarion bit you, and in general everything is bad and Tav just tolerates it. One is left to fantasize about how great the romance could have been if Stephen Rooney had written the entire story of Astarion and every line in it by himself. “A Gentle Line” would have been beautiful for sure. But these are dreams, and in reality, unfortunately, the post-Ascension scene was regularly made worse starting in patch 4:

(From Larian Forum, author Ametris)

Also in this interview with Welch and Schick: “Baldur's Gate 3 Writers Break Down the Craft of Video Game Sex and Romance” you can learn more about the writers' approach to romance. Interesting that:

“In contrast, romance was baked into Baldur’s Gate 3 from the beginning, and Larian developed its dynamic animation system to account for characters having to hug and kiss.” As a result, we have one hug in the Act 2 scene (and that in this scene for confession of feelings for me this action seems too weak, compared to the possibility to open the mind, which I find more serious and sincere). Except it's possible to regularly load a save just to hug Astarion, but within the story Astarion wasn't hugged once until the mod.

“It used to be set up so that the only way that romances could begin was this one night in the party, where you could only pick one character,” Welch says, “And then basically, that character would end up being your love interest for the whole rest of the game.”

This locked fans into dating the same character simply due to a few choices made toward the start of the game. As a fan before coming to work at Larian, though, Welch wished players could experience love triangles and multiple partners.”

It's unfortunate the resources went into this. I was honestly rather saddened to learn that BG3 was originally intended to be a good classic RPG with a romance with a single companion. I can imagine how rich the romance could have been, if all the resources wasted on bears, cheating, “choices between the two” and whatnot had been shared between the romances with LI. For Act 1 there's 2 hours of extra content created for all those triangles (including lines, scenes, and companion reactions), but a hug for Astarion - no, not even in the epilogue, just as there's no kiss in the epilogue, nor is there any opportunity for a “gentle” romance.

And to this:

“People often write fanfiction that is deeply about conflict, about angst, about actual challenges that are being overcome in a relationship,” Welch says. “There are quite a lot of really heartbreaking break-up scenes that happen in Baldur’s Gate 3. That’s the thing that people don’t necessarily consider being an important part of romance.”

I think there's a reason people don't consider breakups an important part of romance. Games are about escapism and fun after all. There's no way I'd pay $70 to get frustrated and get something as unpleasant as a relationship breakup in a game. Fine, let it be, if someone likes it, as an extra option that doesn't get in the way and doesn't take a lot of resources away from the main romance line. I believe that romance in the game and lines for the player should be made for those players, who love the character, and all this side stuff like breakups and fights can be added as an option for those, who want to break up the romantic relationship, but not in the amount of tons of nasty lines for Tav for more than half of the content with no possibility to say “I love you”, hug and kiss gently (which is unfortunately the case in the Ascended Astarion romance). The possibility of a breakup is a common sideline for romance, yes, it should exist in RPGs, but to give it so much importance, to define the romance by it, is ridiculous. But the haters really fucked up AA fans with their “you can't break up with him”. And it's worth pointing out the hypocrisy of praising “Endless Thirsty Fan Art” and sex speedruns on the one hand, and on the other - note the very title of the article, “Baldur's Gate 3 writer's explanation of Astarion's ‘bad’ ending is a wake-up call for players lusting over RPG characters.” Players are being insulted and called gooners for… Wanting to help their beloved character in a plot quest! Just to prevent a tragic outcome for him with “Astarion will remain a spawn forever” and a finale that looks and is essentially a poorly executed quest for an evil companion. And I'm not at all against the first one, I fully support diversity and providing different options in games so people can fulfill whatever sexual fantasies they want without any judgment, but just without this kind of hypocrisy and trying to insult and ruin the game for a portion of the audience who paid the same price for the game as everyone else.

In the game Baudelaire Welch seems to have decided to “shame” fans of vampire romance - in the dialog of non-romantic Astarion after meeting Oblodra in Act 2 we can hear his line: “There's nothing more desirable in the world than a vampire, is there?” and their favorite “degradation” (“It's degrading that people like her fall for it”). This gives haters the opportunity to compare fans of the Ascended Astarion to this very same Oblodra. In order to learn about Oblodra's attraction to Astarion one must play through the game without having a romance with him. Otherwise the meaning of the insult slips away (as it did for me the first time I saw such a comparison, thanks to Arachnomancer for commenting on my previous post with detailed lines). How unrealistic this line sounds in the world of Faerûn, where vampires are feared and clearly not “desired”, well, it's a pretty well known phenomenon that when the agenda comes to the forefront, the lore of the world, realism and other things of little importance to preach cease to matter. It's possible to imagine that Astarion might have encountered something similar in the past, but in the rest of the game, except for this place, attitudes towards vampires are shown differently. In the romantic dialog, Astarion can say, “People don't trust vampires - perhaps understandably - so I needed to get someone on my side. And seducing you was easy, frankly.” He needed protection, because people don't trust vampires, which sounds logical. And the motivation to seduce Tav for the sake of that protection made sense too. Astarion admits that Tav was his first (in terms of a bite, the first person to voluntarily give him their blood, and Astarion took it as a gift “This is a gift, you know. Thank you - I won't forget it.") And he definitely was hiding the fact that he was a vampire, when he was forced to seduce victims for Cazador. The Curse of the Vampyr book (the first of which is literally right in the first tomb) - also illustrates how vampires are treated in the world of Faerûn. Companion reactions after the bite scene. The girl in the sewers (whom Petras has invited, in order to drink her dry, celebrating what he thought would become his freedom), we can tell her that the guy she's waiting for is a vampire, and she'll be scared and completely unwilling to stay waiting for the most desirable lover. Astarion also didn't want to risk stirring our desire too quickly and hid the fact that he was a vampire, early in the adventure. What fans of vampire romance got was preachy, and RPG fans got degradation. The degradation of the genre, when in Act 3 you suddenly get an RPG novelization.

And it's funny how with one hand, bestiality is added to the game (Baudelaire Welch also authored the infamous bear scene, which they say was done for the sake of some “horny shitposting” fans who do it with their friends on Discord, you can see more about it in their “Romance Design in Video Games” lecture below, and game magazines have also written about it, “A sort of shit-eating grin was on my face when I was pitching it”), and the other hand is an accusation for players who like vampire romance. Well, okay, they don't accuse all vampire sexualizers (if you don't let Astarion Ascend, he won't stop being a vampire, but he is allowed to be sexualized), they only accuse players who like healthy vampire romance (when the vampire is healthy, not burning or starving), and try to claim that we're “experiencing the pleasure of degradation”.

But, the main thing is that Larian did not force players to finally break up with the game and changed Tav's facial expressions in the kisses to adequate ones. The animations of the D/s scenes for Ascended Astarion's kisses were filmed separately, and the words “scared, sad and pained”, (were discovered by the modders in the game's code) were used in order to draw the facial expressions of a rape victim on the faces of the player characters as a “Valentine's Day gift”. There is no confirmation that this was the entire studio's idea. Stephen Rooney, sadly, left Larian before patch 6 was released and he had nothing to do with these disgusting scenes. Patch 7 fixed this, and most likely led the kissing to the version of the content that was previously intended as fanservice. During Larian's appearance at PAX West 2024, when answering a question about sexuality in BG3, Adam Smith mentioned that they purposely added "kinky" sexual scenes into the game to make things more authentic, and that they consider that a good thing that they're proud of. He said, "We wanted it to feel authentic... I don't think sexuality should be controversial; different kinks, arousals, fetishes, whatever it might be... I think it's okay for things to be sexy.” Larian positioned the romance in BG3 as a dating simulator before, and by including BDSM romance, they chose Astarion for the dominant role because he's best suited for it. And the horrible faces for the player character is like Welch's attempt to “finish their novel” (as their fans used to threaten that “the novel must be finished”) at the expense of a wonderful character written by Stephen Rooney and at the expense of cheating players (patch 6 in regards to Astarion's fanservice was a fraud and consumer deception - given that the genre of the game purchased was RPG and the roleplay in the romance line was absent and replaced with low quality fanfic). Unfortunately, these scenes were also triggering and triggered PTSD in many people. (“New Astarion kisses in Baldur's Gate 3 have a disturbing effect on fans and here's why”).

Perhaps Mx Welch thought this was some kind of uniquely innovative approach. In his lecture Romance Design in Video Games:

youtube

Welch presented a list of what they think will make romances in games more interesting for players (and what I would call “A Practical Guide: How to Make a Player Unhappy in Your Game with Romantic Relationships.”):

It seems like the disgusting “kisses” designed to victimize the player by stripping them of agency and painting horrible faces on their characters was a failed attempt at realizing point 6. And the haters “fandom” with their “Cazador 2.0”, “soul loss” and other nonsense that is based on nothing is a realized point 5. So seeing gaslighting in a BG3 game definitely succeeded, albeit not in the romance of the game, but in the fandom. In AA romance, there's an opportunity for a roleplay of a toxic partner, all the negativity goes through Tav - lines for Tav (like “You're like Cazador”), imposed facial expressions, no opportunity for roleplay there, where it might have elicited some particular deep emotional reaction from Astarion (you can see the potential of AA's romance in chatbots, even in hater's chatbots, how much he loves and reacts if the player has the opportunity to write their lines, but, in the game, alas, we have a scene of 4 negative lines). Plus “mind-reading” with “degradation” is an imposition on the writer's (Welch's) position. It's a tricky screenwriting move (but “tricky” in a bad way) - the line reflects Astarion's inner state, combined with his character, his inner pain and his self-esteem because of his trauma, and that's what Welch used. But combined with the inability to do anything about it, we get trapped. We have to validate this self-perception of his, while at the same time allowing the author to stigmatize ourselves and fit us to their narrative, as in the tale of the Little Mermaid, who gives her voice to the Witch to save the prince. Plus it gives an opportunity for someone to take that line as if Astarion sees Tav as inferior to himself, or twist it to favor their propaganda. The dialogue scene before this is also a deliberate violation of all laws of the RPG genre - it's purposely done this way, in order to make the player look like a “sexualizer” and give a “feel bad ending”. I believe Welch's contribution is primarily Tav and the lines for Tav (yes, and all those relationship-breaking lines). Of course, Welch did some good stuff ("Aeterna Amantes. Lovers forever, until the world falls down” is their line, according to their fans, the scene of Act 2 is also good and very touching). Exactly what other Ascended Astarion lines belong to their pen is probably unlikely to be known for sure. I've read that Stephen Rooney wrote the epilogue and Astarion at the party after the epilogue, but I have no confirmed evidence of that. But it seems true - the adorable animations of Astarion at the party - the bat, the costume, the way Astarion throws the cup, plays with daggers, etc. seem to me to match Rooney's writing. And the lack of hugs and kisses just for us, just for our fandom, just for our Astarion is more like Welch's solution. Although, considering that even after Welch left, even though they changed our faces, none of the other requests were fulfilled, perhaps the blame for the deterioration of Astarion's romance also lies with those who officially own the rights to the BG3 characters - Wizards of the Coast. Shortly before Patch 6, Wizards of the Coast had mass layoffs of people, many of whom had worked with Larian and interacted with them about the BG3 game. At the very least, don't blame it solely on Welch, there were probably other individuals willing to shove this trashy preaching to players in romance and label Astarion as an “abuser”.

I would also like to call attention to this quote from the Baudelaire Welch lecture:

“In this dialogue, I directly wanted to make the player feel bad for having learned the mentality of click-the-right-dialogue-options-to-get-sex-in-video-games, as that's kind of been baked into us as romance players of previous generations of RPGs. In this scene, it's you click the sex options and you'll further traumatize a traumatized person.”

Yes, this is referring not to the Ascended Astarion romance, but the heavy and rare scene where Tav can force Astarion to have sex with them during the act 2 confession scene. Yes, it's a hard scene, I watched it on video, Astarion is really painful to watch. But… Where has the esteemed author seen players with this “mentality,” who will actually click on lines with a hint of sex in any situation? Specifically this scene in BG3 is only experienced by game testers, with the desire to check all of Astarion's reactions, to watch maximum content, and they choose every possible option to get to know the game and the character from all sides. Well, or post a rare scene on their youtube channel. Even the very first line that leads to this scene, “I was hoping that as a reward for my support you'd throw yourself to me” is for a roleplay of an extremely weird character, to whom a headshot won't damage their brain. And even though the scene itself is strong, heavy and tough, but no one sees it, “roleplaying themselves” and choosing what they want to choose. Treating the players like idiots, that will actually choose this and wanting to “teach them something”? Again, there's no problem with that in this scene, it's not in the main playthrough, you can watch it from youtubers, you can play it yourself in “test mode” to analyze the character and learn more about Astarion. But, ahem, isn't the same attitude shown already in the main story scenes, like the dialog after the Ascension and the attempt to show/impose something through a check that you can only agree with? I really wish that authors of games in the RPG genre, where player agency and choice are supposed to be present, would realize that players are mostly adults and are not going to “learn” anything in games, much less dislike any kind of ��preaching” towards them. And if you consider the audience to be idiots, it might produce bad writing, and the audience, in turn, will certainly judge the quality of such writing and criticize it. True wordsmiths may influence the audience, but they don't try to “teach” or “force”. They tell a story - logical, coherent, with room for roleplay and choice. You probably need to be a genius and a master of manipulation to introduce some ideas without being noticed, but it's very difficult, it's better to just write a good script.

Baudelaire Welch is also very fond of fanfics:

“The last part of how do we make our romance feel better for players? Wish fulfillment is forgettable. Players who go to write fanfiction are just as interested in hurt as they are in joy. Hurt is something to analyze. Hurt is a dilemma, and behind it is a moral choice.”

“I know because I was writing fan fiction about Baldur's Gate 3 before I worked on it”.

“It feels like a watershed moment in gaming history, where the fanfiction community felt like we were not a subculture within a fandom, but the majority audience that the game was catering to”.

Well, it doesn't take a statistical expert to realize that the main audience is still just playing the game and not writing fanfics. And those who do write, write completely diverse plots and completely varying quality. There are quite a few beautiful, strong and interesting works written about Ascended Astarion, but there are also some nausea-inducing “abuser” fantasies. Patch 6 was only suitable as a video insert for this, rather disgusting, mediocre and very far from the real image of Astarion category of fanfics. It's not the best option to take a small fraction of the total number of players (those who write fanfics at all), from them choose an even smaller fraction - those who write crappy fanfics, and make a romance for them, screwing up the story for the main consumer - those who bought the game according to its genre (RPG) and with faith in the already known Baldur's Gate setting.

Welch is also known to have worked on Dark Urge and on Astarion's dialog for Dark Urge:

The post with this message has been removed from Reddit. An Imgur link with a screenshot of the post was saved by one of the commenters. The quality is poor, so here's a reprint:

"It was me! So thank you! I am the Dark Urge writer, but I worked on writing for Astarion for several months during crunch. Because I had the opportunity to, I added a lot of extra interactions between the two characters. That’s why Astarion gets a bunch of I dialogues for the Dark Urge, and none of the other characters do. I'm sure we would have liked to have every character repeatedly check in on the dark urge, but there wasn't really time/budget for it. I just was working on the two characters at the same time and wanted to squeak in him being super supportive and worried about you throughout the game.

Neil absolutely killed it, though. I'd totally forgotten I'd added the scene where you try to break up with Astarion because you're worried about endangering him, and he absolutely doesn't let you.

But the Neil delivery of those lines have now totally burned that moment into my brain endurindly, he's just so sweet and anxious for you there".

Baudelaire Welch was selected for the role by Swen Vincke himself because their "mother worked partially on the script for Silence of the Lambs, the movie". (source: "The lead writer of Baldur's Gate 3's Dark Urge was extremely squeamish at first, which shows you can do just about anything if you set your mind to it.")

In general, that's the major of what I know about Baudelaire Welch's contribution to AA history (I apologize for the occasional digression in the form of my own assessments of this or that aspect, but it affected me a lot as a player at the one time). And about what you said about “the story was watered down” even though it was really only the expression on Tav's face that changed - the player character (!), a character that in RPGs has always belonged to the player and the job of a good writer is to provide enough choices and reactions for the roleplay so that the player can find a suitable option and make their own choices - that's a good point. Haters constantly claim that we were demanding a “rewrite of AA”, whereas we were demanding a return of agency, actually, something that has always been there in the same wonderful old games that Mx Welch criticized for supposedly superficial romance. These games didn't have such superb motion capture as BG3, thanks to that and Neil Newbon's superb play Astarion and his romance was so beautiful and clingy, and of course thanks to Stephen Rooney for creating Astarion (a character like Astarion hasn't been in any game before either). But the romance in these old games was written perfectly. I never had such problems with roleplaying as in BG3, in any RPG game I've played, I always had enough lines and reactions, so it can't be called some kind of picky or inflated requirements, if all other games of this genre were fine with it. In interactive novels, where you play as some ready-made character with their own prescribed personality, who act independently in some scenes, and somewhere you can choose options/replies for them and these options are limited - this approach is perceived normally and will not be an imposition, you may not like the character, but it happens. But for an RPG, having the player create their own character/self is just bad writing. As if you “have to” feel, perceive events the way the author demands. No, it's authors who have to write in such a way that immersion is not interrupted. And those whining about “rewriting AA” basically wanted the PCs to be part of their “story” and Astarion had nothing to do with it. By the way, Astarion himself is really great in the romance, I love all his lines, so for the lines of Astarion that were written by Baudelaire Welch, I can only thank them. But not for “Tav.” In general, the very idea of forcing a reaction and trying to fit the PC to “their own vision” is a big mistake. I'll make my decision to buy the next Larian game based on whether they'll treat Tav as a “storytelling tool” or make an RPG with enough roleplay and choices. And whether they'll listen to some next bunch of haters who want other players' beloved character to “not have a happy ending”. After patch 6, Astarion's “romance” looked like this:

(From Larian Forum, by Ametris)

Fortunately, this “novel” was not completed, and player agency is now present in the game, at least for those players who are fans of D/s romance. Modders have returned agency to the rest of us (at least PC players).

And yes, if someone starts “accusing” me and other people who gave negative criticism of Welch's work of “hating”, I would ask them to first find out the difference between “hating” and evaluating the author's work. Well, and evaluating the author's attitude towards the audience, based on their statements (it's pretty weird to spit at an audience and expect the audience to take it enthusiastically). Baudelaire Welch is currently no longer at Larian, and I wish them every success in their future endeavors.

#ascended astarion #astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #lord astarion #astarion romance

62 notes · View notes