#and trying to accept the fact that whatever happens in the end i MIGHT fail

[kimmkitsuragi]

i will NOT always be this lost and clueless in life right

[sunshine-jesse]

The Incest End is Not The Bad End, Part 2: The Sane Ending Is Still A Bad Ending

In the first essay I wanted to deconstruct the idea that Ashley was the sole perpetrator of abuse. I wanted to take a look at how unhealthy their dynamic actually was and lay out clear indications that Ashley could, at the very least, fix her own problems, and wasn't a lost cause. I also wanted to show that them ending up together, be it romantically, in death, or even platonically (although I'm not convinced the Sane Burial ending can lead to that) was inevitable.

Here, however, I want to make a more difficult argument: That their relationship turning romantic is not just Not That Bad, but actually Good, at least in the context of what's best for the two of them in the long run. And to do that, I'm going to draw comparisons to the common narrative that it's the bad ending, again. I think it's the easiest way to explain my points, even though it might make me seem like I'm being contrarian or playing the Devil's Advocate.

But I'm not. I actually do think this is the only way they can heal. Why?

WELL.

My biggest driving factor for this belief is and always has been the difference in tone between the two endings. The 'correct' ending under conventional understandings of morality and relationships would be one where he breaks away from Ashley, but the only ending in which that's shown to be possible is the Decay ending. In the ending where Ashley has bullets in the gun (and therefore has control over the situation), she has to yield control over the situation to Andrew, and (going off the reading I established in the last essay) he understands and accepts just how much their dynamic means to him and how important Ashley really is to him.

In a sense, he self-actualizes in the same way he does in the Burial ending: Ashley yields control where it matters the most in both, resulting in him he fully understanding and accepting himself and what he wants, because Ashley's controlling nature no longer prevents him from seeing the truth. Ashley no longer casts a shadow that allows him to be blind to his true nature- his true desires.

In the Burial ending, he wants her either romantically and sexually (in the questionable ending) or as a friend (in the sane one). He lets go of his own need to control her, and accepts the fact that he was never better than her to begin with. In the Gun!Decay ending, he wants her dead. The damage has been done. Whatever final line was crossed made him realize that he can't control Ashley, and a world in which she cannot be controlled is one better off without her.

But in both, he can't live without her.

The tone of the Decay ending is tense. It's dismal. It's emotionally ravaging. Andrew is not acting like someone who wants to break free, he's acting like someone who has given up. He's angry and he's suicidal, but he no longer has any reservations about making intimate physical contact with Ashley.

…and Ashley looks terrified and sad, especially in the last screenshot, which gives off some seriously dark implications about what Andrew might do to her in the Decay route.

He's given up on healing. He's given up on being normal. His heart and his mind both Decay as he's dragged along by an Ashley who's doing whatever she can to try to not allow a murder-suicide to happen and only making it worse in the process, because SHE has no foundation through which to improve or change her perspective on the world, either (more on that below).

In the NoGun!Decay ending, we don't know what he does after. He fails to self-actualize because Ashley never yields that need for control, and he follows the same pattern he always does of resorting to violence the moment he thinks he's losing control. I highly doubt that the ending would be much different- he'd probably just mirror Ashley's reaction of violently kicking the body at first, but he probably wouldn't last long after. Both, in an attempt to regain control or save their own lives, feel temporary relief at the death of the other, because they no longer feel trapped and afraid of what will happen if they leave.

But they also both fail to come into their own as people. Their dynamic- of Ashley being the morally bankrupt one willing to do anything to further their own survival, and Andrew being the one who's careful and calculating and preventing her short-sightedness from causing unintentional consequences- was the only thing that allowed them to survive in the first chapter, and more than likely the second (we don't see the consequences of them not having the trinket's power in ep2 so it's impossible to say for sure). If they don't kill themselves after losing the other and failing to self-actualize, it's almost certain that the world will eat them alive. They're outlaws, on the run, and have nobody to lean on but themselves. Without each other to lean on, it's only a matter of time until they fall.

So. The Decay ending is very obviously bad. There is no freedom to be had from them breaking away from the other; only despair and death. There's catharsis to be had in miserable people meeting a miserable end, sure, but the story goes out of its way to show us that the path to that end will be miserable and unfun and horrifying with the only joy to be derived from it coming from pure schadenfreude. But the story itself makes it clear that this is not intended to be a happy ending and thinking of it as such means you're fundamentally incompatible with what it's trying to convey. It's just a horrifying tragedy of two people who never gave each other what they needed to heal and tore down everything around them in the process.

So, how is the Burial ending better?

The lighter tone is immediately obvious. Ashley trusts Andrew to believe in her, and Andrew goes up to bat for Ashley even in the face of an arguably superficial offer to improve his life; to start it anew. The two just generally have a good time together afterwards, joking around, having fun, and ribbing on each other in a way that comes off as playful rather than hurtful. Andrew, finally, makes progress towards -healing,- because he finally stopped lying to himself about how important Ashley is to him. Why do I think it's a sign of healing, exactly?

Because Andrew, for the first time in the story, is comfortable with what he's doing.

He's comfortable with dismembering their parents. He's rarely tense, hesitates much less, and comforts Ashley instead of just seeking comfort from her. He gives more than just temporary emotional validation; a lot more. So much more, in fact, that it makes ASHLEY uncomfortable. She has difficulty processing not having their push and pull dynamic. She thinks something is off, something is wrong, because she's never seen Andrew so comfortable around her before, or at least lacking reservations in showing that comfort.

She still thinks about the idea of controlling him, of trying to get him to stay. There's internal monologue about it. But that's the difference. Before, we rarely see any internal monologue of her thought patterns- she just acts. Not thinks. But here, she's unsure. Here, she has to look inward. She has to self-reflect. She still frames it as her trying to keep Andy around, but Andrew is making it obvious in both words and actions that he will always be there for her, and he's so COMFORTABLE about it.

Regardless of what her actions in episode 3 end up being, it's still clear to me that the foundation for her to heal is there. She's safe, because she has a warm, comfortable place to return to while she figures herself out.

"So," you might be asking, "doesn't this imply that she'll heal no matter what? Doesn't that make incest technically unnecessary?"

Yes and no. Yes, in the fact that we still see a marked improvement in their dynamic in the Refusal path.

No, in that the Sane ending's tone is still much different.

After the dream sequence, Andrew reveals that he never fell asleep. He never sees that vision. He still self-actualizes to some degree, probably, but he never has his desires laid so bare for him because he doesn't dream. But you have to place sunlight on the left side to see this, so it still leads me to believe that they still grasp the importance of their relationship in that ending. It's just that…

I don't think that they ever, truly heal. I think that they just grow distant. I'll elaborate on what I think that means later down the line.

In the Sane ending, they have much less fun with each other. They don't playfully rib on each other as much- the eulogy in particular seems more spiteful than playful- and they're much less physically affectionate towards each other. It's not dismal. It's not dark or depressing. It's not tense. It's just… there. It's boring. Nothing has changed, and neither has Andrew, which Ashley views him not sleeping as a sign of.

But in the Questionable ending, he -does- sleep.

So what does sleep mean here? It means he can't sleep if he feels he's missing something. It means something is lacking in his life. Something is missing. Is it Ashley's affection? Well, yes, but also not just that. Ashley is just a representation of what he needs: Comfort. Someone to rely on. Someone he know won't leave him. I believe they have the same needs, and those needs just manifest differently. Andrew never had to worry about Ashley leaving him because Ashley was so obsessive that she managed to fill in the all-consuming void that mental illness creates.

But I think in the Sane ending, he starts to doubt that. In the Sane ending, he starts to shake his desire for Ashley. Which is great, right? It means they can finally go down a more conventional, safe path and have a relationship that's societally acceptable. The safe, boring ending that normies would enjoy.

But the fact that he doesn't sleep means that, even if he shakes that desire, he can't shake the need for what she provides.

Because he never sees the vision, he never gets that confirmation that he can pursue a more physically affectionate relationship with Ashley, and given that physical affection is a huge part of the equation for making him feel comfortable and happy (see: the couch scene, where he's the happiest he is in the whole game before the Burial route), he never truly believes he can seek it from her. He never gets it from the one person he trusts to always be around. He never gets that final affirmation that it's okay to be with the one person who has always mattered to him the most, and always will.

If we're to take the scenes at the end of episode 2 as metaphors for what will happen- or has to happen- for the siblings to get the best outcome for their well being (even at the expense of others), then the Questionable route involves Ashley loosening her grip on Andrew and having him naturally fill in the roles she wanted him to all along. But in the Sane route, Ashley bottles up every soul see shes, aside from what's commonly assumed to be Andrew's, who she is uncharacteristically cavalier about letting go.

She's still the same. She still wants to entrap people, and never let them go. She just happens to no longer want to do it to Andrew. She never fundamentally changes. And Andrew?

His soul has nothing to say. It's pitch black. It almost looks demonic, having literally the same color scheme as the Entity and Lord Unknown. If it's already demonic, then it stands to reason that a demon wouldn't want it, because it's just more of the same. Nothing special, nothing they would want, nothing that would be useful to them. In other words… just like Ashley?

He has- or will have- a tar soul.

And what does tar do?

It sticks.

It's the Sane path to take because it involves them conforming to societal expectations. It involves them fitting in, acting as they should, and doing what's expected of them without much fuss. But in the world they're in, they're expected to harm everyone around them. To kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. To never become themselves, and never be truly happy. To never ask questions.

And they'll do all of that, whether they stick together or not. The only difference is how many people they stand to hurt, and whether they're truly happy at the end of it all.

There's a reason the souls of one of the parents- commonly thought to be Mrs. Graves- was unhatched. She probably wanted to love her children. Even Ashley. She just never did, because the world never let her be herself. She never became whole, because it would've resulted in her being too dark to fit into society. But the siblings have a chance to do so. They have a chance to truly focus on each other so they can heal and become better, happier, more complete people in a world that's doing everything it can to incentivize otherwise.

It's just a bit unfortunate for some that Andrew has to fill a hole to become whole.

[jovialbasementmusic]

What do you do with a brainwashed army of cult survivors?

At the end of Heart Part 2, Etheria still has a population of thousands of Horde Prime’s clones. This is going to be, putting it mildly, a Problem for the Etherians. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen what happens to a cult follower when they are faced with conclusive evidence that their entire worldview was false, but you probably have some intuitive idea. Imagine if you said to a young-Earth creationist “Hey, here are multiple overlapping lines of evidence proving beyond reasonable doubt that life on Earth evolved over hundreds of millions of years,” or to a Scientologist, “Check out this evidence that L. Ron Hubbard was a fraudster who started a cult as a money-making racket!” You can probably guess that in each of those cases, the response is unlikely to be, “Goodness, I have been mistaken all my life! Thank you, kind friend, for relieving me of my false beliefs.”

As someone who’s left a cult, let me tell you, the clones are not all gonna react like Hordak or Wrong Hordak.

You might have heard of cognitive dissonance theory, but most people misuse the term, so I’ll quickly explain it. When humans encounter information which contradicts or disproves their deeply held beliefs, they experience psychological discomfort. This feeling sucks, and people will go to great lengths not to experience it. But when those beliefs are central to your identity and your place in the world, letting go of those beliefs also sucks, and people will go to even greater lengths not to do it. So they resolve the cognitive dissonance however they can. They might decide the person who gave them this information is an evil liar and lash out at them. They might find a way to convince themselves the information is in fact compatible with their beliefs after all, and then try not to think too hard about whatever mangled assemblage of the facts they have settled on, in case it falls apart under closer examination. They might modify their beliefs slightly to fit the facts ("Prime always said he would go away for a while before returning in triumph!"), and then maintain that this is what they thought all along.

As an aside, one of the landmark texts on cognitive dissonance theory is When Prophecy Fails, which tracks the actions of a doomsday cult after the world failed to end on their predicted date. Sure enough, the acolytes of this cult did not abandon their beliefs despite this pretty concrete evidence that they had been wrong. Instead, they started recruiting new followers as hard as possible. They tried to get social reinforcement for their beliefs (“This must be true—look how many people believe it!”) to help them cope with the empirical disconfirmation they’d just lived through. So yeah, this theory is highly applicable to cult behaviour. And Prime’s clones are quite definitely a cult.

So it’s fair to say that just because the Hive Mind is down and She-Ra has just kicked Prime’s ass into oblivion, the clones are not all gonna just accept that Prime is gone and his mission is over. Some of them are going to continue fighting, convinced that Prime is not really gone. Some will insist that their connection to the Hive Mind is still intact, and deliver messages as the word of Prime. At least one clone is going to claim to be the reincarnation of Prime himself, and begin recruiting followers. More likely, several clones will attempt this gambit, creating factions with names like The True Followers of Prime and The Glorious Servants of Prime. These factions will go to war with each other in service of their Prime (honourable, redeeming) against the enemy’s Prime (evil, destructive). As time goes on, these factions’ ideas about Prime’s teachings will diverge, providing new opportunities for conflict. If they’re allowed to go on long enough, probably some benign and progressive versions of Prime’s cult will emerge, teaching that Prime in fact existed to bring peace and freedom to the Universe, and that those warlike factions have strayed from the true path of Prime.

All of this gives the people in charge of Etheria a headache. Etheria doesn’t believe in retributive justice, and as brainwashed cult members, the clones have diminished responsibility for war crimes they committed while Prime was alive. So it’s fair to say they can’t kill them. But they also can’t just ship them all off to live unsupervised in a colony somewhere in case they radicalise each other and start another war. Sure, some of them will follow Wrong Hordak into accepting that Prime lied to them, and they will find meaning by travelling the universe, attempting to restore planets Prime destroyed. Some, like Hordak, will give themselves names and begin the agonising process of creating an identity for themselves outside of everything they ever thought was true. But what of the rest of them? They’re essentially adult children, ignorant of everything Prime did not want them to know. They also trigger PTSD flashbacks in a great many citizens of Etheria, who cannot look at them without remembering what they suffered under the Horde.

What do you do with that many brainwashed survivors? What does compassion and restorative justice demand? I don’t know if I’ll get around to writing this as a fic or not, so here’s the setup and you can let your imaginations take it where you like. I’m new to tumblr and to the spop fandom, so if you read this far I’d really appreciate a reblog. And if anyone else has already had similar ideas, I’d really like to read them.

[o-wise-corvid]

Maul takes statements a little too literally because Sidious had a habit of making “offhand” ones that turned out to be extremely literal. Like “it will only be a little skin off your back” would mean carving a piece of flesh off Maul’s back while being told if he moved or made a sound, they’d start again on a completely new area until he could “complete the mission”.

You don’t come out of being raised like that for as long as you can remember and be a regular person mentally. If he didn’t take it all at face value, he’d never have survived. If he didn’t follow instructions to the letter, there would be pain worse than what he was already in.

In canon, and AU’s that include this, most healthy moment he ever had was realizing that it wasn’t that he was unworthy of Sidious’ approval, but that Sidious was unworthy of his adoration. In canon, he decided to make it Sidious’ problem however he possibly could. Killing Anakin was his best shot. And he got Ahsoka instead.

Kenobi was just an outlet for all the pain and hurt and jealousy that all this breeds inside a person’s soul. Kenobi was why he failed right? Right?! He had to be. And when Maul discovered Kenobi had someone that loved him, truly loved him… they had to be dealt with. And that’s why Satine had to die. How could he let the man who’d taken everything from him have the thing that Maul so desperately CRAVES? Simply put, Maul couldn’t.

Maul’s full, ultimately, of love. But he’s been beaten and twisted and broken so many times that when it comes to showing it, it’s also broken. “I was told to do this by a person I love and if I love them, I do it to the letter, because if I don’t, I must not love them so maybe they’ll love me if I do it perfectly.” All he wants in the end, is someone to please love him back. But he doesn’t believe he deserves it. Because no one ever has. Which in turn leads to “If I don’t show how much I hurt, it isn’t real but I deserve it all anyway, so who cares?”

So when I write for a Maul who’s endured Sidious and come out the other side, whether in an AU where he gave up being a Sith or Sidious was killed, you get a very tired, very lonely man. He’s free of some things, having possibly realized that Kenobi was just a scared kid who’d watched his father-figure die and who else wouldn’t have gone after Maul after seeing that? It was all Sidious. He might meet someone he likes. A partner or perhaps a younger person he realizes he has paternal instincts toward. But then, he comes to love them. And one day they tell him to just GO AWAY. LEAVE ME ALONE. They mean it for an hour or so. A couple days max.

But Maul doesn’t understand that. It’s not their fault. And it’s not his either. So when they realize Maul’s not even in the same building, but is in fact waiting at the nearest spaceport with the cheapest shuttle across the galaxy in mind, it’s liable to make them panic. Because chances are, they don’t even remember what they said to him. If he ends up failing either in this or some other regard, brought back because of whatever reason, it frequently leads to quiet self harm because he failed and failure means punishment.

It doesn’t matter whoever he’s with all but begs him to not do this, not leave them. Maul doesn’t believe it. Even if he agrees just to get whoever it is to calm down. Because it feels so good. To be wanted. To be clung to. If it’s true, it’s going to have to hurt. Things that feel this good… they simply don’t happen to Maul. So they’re obviously lies.

This mental cycle is breakable. But it’s going to take a long time and a whole lot of effort. Which is why Maul isn’t easy to love or for just anyone to attempt to try to. He’s damaged. Horribly. And you’re going to get hurt trying to heal that. One should accept that not all of it will be healed. One should accept that he’s going to misunderstand. And if someone really does love him? They’re going to have to try anyway.

[bloodiedrogue]

ONLY FOOLS FALL

SUMMARY: Upon arriving in Baldur's Gate, Zayis decides to pay her old flame a visit... much to Astarion's dismay.

PAIRING: Astarion & Zayis (OFC)

WORD COUNT: 12,356

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, penetrative sex, teasing, blood sucking as a form of foreplay (therefore mentions of blood), feelings realized, first confessions, angst with a happy ending.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's been months of brainstorming this particular scene and the build up that goes along with it, but I think I finally got it. For context, Vesryn is Zay's sort of ex who she never properly breaks up with due to getting kidnapped.

I know this chapter is a bit of a doozy but please, if you at all like my writing I beg you to give this one a shot. It's probably one of my favourite things I've written and I'm very proud of it. :')

Also shout out to @novarunestone specifically for helping my brain push through. You're the best, dude. <3

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST

-

She’s at his door before she can even think to leave, rapping her knuckles against the grain —trying her best to swallow down the knot that resides in her throat. Pushing against the walls of her esophagus, she can feel the obstruction blocking her airway. 

Forcing a heavy sigh to escape as she reaches up to touch it, she can’t help but wonder if this is her body’s way of enacting guilt. Considering her mind’s already jumbled up enough as it is, she wouldn’t be surprised if it was. She did throw a knife at her partner’s head for Gods’ sake, so the least she could do is feel the events of her shitty behaviour. That and to properly apologize. Which is ultimately why she’s here, standing in front of her old home, running her fingers nervously along the length of her neck.

As it swells with anticipation she can feel her chest tighten and her hands begin to sweat. Each symptom growing the longer she stands there, waiting; wondering whether or not he’ll answer the door. 

Deep down, there’s a part of her that hopes he doesn't. A part that screams for her to turn on her heel and dash back to camp without even looking back. A part that thinks the unspoken word between two separating parties is more than enough closure to get her through. It’d certainly be the easier option, right? The one with less baggage. Perhaps if she could just accept that she’s still that same asshole that left all those weeks ago rather than the better person she’s currently trying to be she could just pretend like she never knocked on the door in the first place. Up and leave and never speak of this again. 

Biting her bottom lip in annoyance, she knows she can’t. Thanks to Wyll and his stupidly decent advice, she’s too far gone with this whole making amends thing. Having promised the warlock she’d at least try to apologize, the mere thought of failing makes her want to crawl all the way to Avernus and never let another soul see her face again. Either that or hole up in the woods somewhere. Whatever happens first, really. 

However, considering the more likely option being Avernus, she continues to stand there, idly scratching the side of her neck, feeling the ends of her claws dig through her dirtied flesh. 

Almost immediately, the feeling of it makes her cringe and drop her hand, realizing just how stupid she must look, covered head to toe in dirt. Reeking heavily of sweat and viscera —two scents you definitely don’t want to bring home when you’re about to beg for forgiveness for apparently running away with a vampire. 

Which obviously isn’t the case. Or, at least wasn’t. Nowadays she’s not quite sure what to think about that whole situation. So most of the time she just blocks it out entirely. Ignoring the fact that the line that was once drawn between her and Astarion has begun to blur into something new. 

Something she has to apologize for otherwise the guilt might eat her alive. So, she bangs on the door again, this time using the edge of her fist to repeatedly slam against the wood, gritting her teeth in frustration. All while praying to whatever God might be listening that for once, instead of fighting, Vesryn just accepts her apology.

Because truthfully, she’s not sure she can take the rejection right now. Not even when she hears him grumbling on the other side of the door, making her realize she’s still pounding against it. Her hand repeatedly colliding until it’s eventually torn from her grasp and the man she once called her partner is standing before her. 

“Zay?”

He looks older somehow. Worn out. With eyes that were once large, round orbs of obsidian are now narrowed and soaked in age. A newfound darkness cradling each one with exhaustion. 

Pressing her lips together she nods her head at the sound of his voice and continues to stare, taking in all his features. Picking apart the way his face twists from confusion to annoyance, ultimately falling on something unfamiliar that eventually disappears inside the crook of her neck.

“You’re alive.”

He says it as if it’s a question. Whispering it against the shell of her ear, she barely hears it at first. Too shocked to process the position that she’s currently in, all she can do is stand there and try to repeat the phrase in her head. Allowing the individual sounds to fully absorb before she’s nodding her head again. “Hi, uh, yeah.” 

He pulls away, still resting his hands on her arms. “You escaped.”

Suddenly confused, she raises a brow, watching his expression change again —this time back to annoyance, prompting her to realize what he means. “Um, not exactly.”

“Not exactly? What do you mean not exactly?”

She opens her mouth to respond before closing it back up again, unsure how to explain the events she’s recently experienced without completely freaking him out. 

“Can I maybe come inside? We should probably talk.”

At first, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he just stands there, staring. His mind most likely reeling from the fact that his ex is now standing at his doorstep in the middle of the night, covered in shit, most likely preparing to tell him that the man she left with is still very much in the picture. 

None of which bodes well for her ever-growing fear of rejection. Especially considering that if the roles were reversed, she’d already be slamming the door in his face, telling him to piss off. So the fact that he hasn’t done that already feels like a bit of a miracle. One that continues to bless her once he eventually pulls away, motioning towards the inside of the house with a tired sigh. 

Awkwardly, she smiles in response and enters, taking in the familiar scenery. Feeling its presence hit her like a ton of bricks as she forces herself further inside, ignoring that knot again. Pushing whatever anxieties that spread through her in order to move to the dining room table and pull up a chair. 

“I’m sure you have a ton of questions…” 

Trailing off, she lets out a nervous laugh and begins to play with the end of her tail. All the while Vesryn just stands at the other end of the table, looking down at her like with such empty eyes that she can’t help but clear her throat and pivot. Opting to just ramble instead of waiting for an answer, knowing deep down he might not give her one. 

“First off, I need you to know I didn’t leave willingly.”

His brow quirks up at that. An air of interest coating his features, urging him to take a seat. “That’s an awfully vague way to start a story.” 

“I mean, I’m not trying to be vague,” she replies, suppressing the desire to roll her eyes. “Honestly, I just —I don’t really know how to explain what’s happened.”

“You don’t know how or you just don’t want to?” 

“Both, I suppose.”

All he does is snort and raise his hands to his face, dragging them down until they’re resting over his mouth, showcasing his never-ending lack of patience. “You’re aware of how late it is, right?”

This time she does roll her eyes. “My apologies sir, I didn’t realize I was being such a burden. Do you want me to go?” 

Out of habit she then goes to stand, prompting Vesryn to angrily grip her wrist. “Oh for fuck’s sake —would you please just sit down and tell me where you’ve been?”

Equally as angry, she swears at him under her breath before crossing her arms over her chest. Using the pressure to subdue the need to panic as she tries to collect her thoughts before ultimately ending up with, “Astarion and I were kidnapped.”

Almost immediately she can see the lack of interest in his eyes begin to develop. How they quickly start to glaze over at the mention of Astarion’s name, reminding her just how unenthusiastic he is to hear about him alongside what he assumes is some sort of excuse.

“Obviously, the details are a bit complicated but the gist of it is that we were taken by mind flayers and now we’re trying to find a cure,” she tells him, but again, all he does is stare, his gaze set directly against her’s —devoid of anything other than disinterest and doubt.

Once again, it makes her want to leave. To repeat time and storm out like she did all those weeks ago. As terrible as it sounds, she knows it’d at least get his attention. Maybe even stir him enough to actually listen to what she has to say without immediately discrediting the truth. 

“We met others on the ship. People infected like us. They’re in danger, Ves. I’m in danger.” 

“Aren’t you always?” 

“Not like this,” she tells him, swallowing hard. “Things are different. Bigger.”

He lets out a sigh. “Define big.” 

“The whole city going up in flames big.”

Shifting in his chair, she can tell he’s trying his best not to say what he really wants to. An act that simultaneously fills her with rage and relief as she watches him mull over her words, allowing them to fully sink in before humming in response. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. Explain to me how exactly you’re in danger?” 

Before she can even stop herself, Zayis is telling him everything. Relaying each point of the plot through nervous thoughts and shaking hands. Trying her best to allow enough time in between the more convoluted sections to really process the severity. 

And at first, it’s a struggle. Considering Vesryn’s almost as stubborn as she is, she can tell right off the bat it’s hard for him to accept. After having been convinced of this completely different narrative for so long, she can see it in his eyes he’s struggling to trust what she’s saying. To take all the outlandish things she’s relaying at face value after all the grief she’s put him through. 

But then about halfway through she notices the switch. That subtle moment of realization taking over, forcing him to listen. To hear all the stressors of the last few weeks repeatedly piling on top of her. To understand that the night she left without a trace wasn’t just the result of a conscious choice she had made but rather a mistake in location at the worst possible time. 

By the end of it, he’s got his arms across his chest, one of them angled up so that he can stroke his chin in bewilderment. “Gods, you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Fuck.” He shakes his head. 

In response, all Zayis does is shoot him a tight-lipped smile. One that feels so misplaced that it ends up falling almost immediately. “I just thought you should know, you know?”

“Know what?”

“That I didn’t walk out on you,” she admits, her throat aching from the explanation. “That I still care about you in some way.”

It’s at that point she can tell that Vesryn knows. Written plain as day across his face, she can feel it in her chest, too. Pounding against her already damaged frame. Echoing through the edges of her organs, causing them to twist in discomfort. 

Considering he’s always been a pretty intuitive guy, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to her but still, the second he eventually lets out a huff and awkwardly grins to himself, she can’t help but feel the guilt double in size. Triple even, watching the way he looks around the room, avoiding her pleading eyes. 

“Somehow I always knew,” he says, still smiling. Still shaking his head in protest, as if he can’t quite fully accept it. 

“I know.” 

“You just —you always talked about him, you know? Whether it was about his terrible personality or his disgusting behaviour, it was like his presence was constantly taunting me. Making me feel like the least interesting man in your life.”

“You weren’t—“

“I know,” he cuts her off with a raised hand. Something that would normally make her angry but right now just makes her confused. “It’s just… no matter how negatively you talked about him there was always this passion there. Like everything about him was actually worthy of conversation.” 

Letting out a dry laugh, he pauses to rub his face again, this time groaning through the process. “I guess, I just wanted you to talk about me like that. Just once so that I knew you weren’t getting tired of me.”

It’s at that moment Zayis feels her chest begin to break, the cavity of her ribcage splintering out to stab through her flesh. All at once, it hits the tenderest parts of her, ripping away what little composure she once had —filling her up with that same wave of emotion she’s been avoiding all this time. 

Leaning back in her chair, it immediately prompts her to blink back the threat of tears. As they begin to sting her eyes, she can’t help but focus on the pressure and how it weighs far more than it did when she first entered. How somehow, despite doing what she came here to do, this newfound information Vesryn provides just feels like another problem. Another issue added to the ongoing pile of things she needs to fix but doesn’t know how to. 

Which makes the once subdued panic inside her chest practically explode. Taking the form of shaking hands and shifting eyes, she can feel her breath start to quicken. The sudden lack of air located inside her chest making it difficult for her to breathe. 

Almost immediately Vesryn’s kneeling in front of her as it happens, taking her hands in his while looking up with concern. “It’s okay, Zay,” he tells her. “I’m okay.”

She doesn’t understand how it could be —how he could be after all that she’s done to him. Having fucked off without a single goodbye he should be the wreck who sits at the table, looking like a broken vessel with nothing else to give. The one who mourns for a life they could’ve possibly had if not for bad timing or poor communication or—

“I forgive you, yeah?” 

His voice is soft. A caress of sound that only further fuels her tears, realizing it’s her who’s crumbling. The one who’s broken and tired, unsure whether or not to let this go in favour of pursuing something new. 

“Why?”

“Because I do?” He shrugs. “I don’t know —does there have to be a reason?”

Before coming here she would’ve said no and called it a day. But now that she’s in front of him, debating whether or not she should fight for a second chance, she needs it. More than anything she’s ever needed in her life, she’s willing to demand it if she has to. 

Sensing this, all Vesryn does is sigh. Offering her a subtle nod, he then moves to stand while holding her head, allowing his fingers to gently push against the crown of her skull to calm her down. 

“Once you left I think I realized we were only together because it was familiar,” he says, and immediately she knows he’s right because, near the end, it was as if they were nothing more than two people sharing a space. 

Allowing the convenience of their arrangement to take over, no longer was there that initial spark they once had as kids. The one that drove them to care and want and grow. And because of that, by the time the kidnapping happened, it was obvious that they were well on their way to this same ending.

“I'm sorry, Ves.” 

Before she can even think she’s reaching for his torso, pressing her face against the side of his ribs as she wraps herself around. An act he responds to by hugging her shoulder with one arm, once again telling her it’s okay. 

“I promise we’ll make it out the other side,” he tells her, and somehow despite the cloud of doubt that seems to always circle her head as of late, she believes him. Feeling the truth of his words remind her that even though they’re not the same as they once were, that doesn’t necessarily mean that they can’t still be there for one another. 

“Gods, I hope you’re right because I really don’t think I have the mental capacity to become a mind flayer right now.” 

Somehow that comment manages to break the ice, causing both of them to grin as Vesryn rolls his eyes. “What? Not a fan of tentacles?”

All she does is scrunch up her face. 

“Oh c’mon! Might be fun!” 

“Define fun.” 

Peeling himself away, he wanders over to the kitchen and grabs a bottle off the shelf, placing it in front of Zayis before retreating back to his chair with a shrug. “I don’t know. Don’t they control people with their minds?” 

Almost immediately she reaches for the vessel in front of her, pulling out the cork with a loud pop!

“Sure, but they also eat brains which I’m not necessarily fond of,” she explains, taking a sip of the undisclosed liquid, feeling it burn the second it hits her tongue. 

“I mean, bit of brains never hurt anyone. Especially not you.” 

As she finishes sipping, she shoots him an unimpressed look. One that eventually makes the both of them laugh, prompting her chest to tighten. Her body somehow reminding itself of how easy things used to be.

“I swear if I do turn into a mind flayer you’re the first on my list of brains to eat.” 

“Really? Not the vampire?”

His voice is unnaturally smug as he says it. So much so that she’s almost a little surprised, watching the way he cocks his brow and reaches across the table to take a quick sip of his own. 

“How is he doing anyways?” 

“A bit forward, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. Last I heard though, you’re on borrowed time.” 

Pressing her lips together, she realizes then that he’s right. Now that they’re back in Baldur’s Gate it’s only a matter of time before they have to face their problem head on. A detail she hadn’t quite grasped yet, having been focused on getting here first. 

“He’s fine.”

Without warning Vesryn pushes the bottle across the table, smirking. “Just fine, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Not good? Great? Absolutely per—“

“He’s good,” she practically snaps, taking the few silent beats that pass to down a good portion of their drink.

“That’s good.” Nodding his head, he watches her take a few more sips, forcing back an obviously shit-eating grin. “Treating you well, I hope?”

He waves his hand through the air dramatically and immediately Zayis can’t help but groan and take another sip. Letting the liquid distract her from the roaming thoughts that keep entering her mind —forcing her to remember Astarion’s face and how unimpressed it looked when she left camp.

Somehow it makes her miss him. Despite knowing that she’ll return to his side amongst the others by the time the sun rises, there’s a brief moment where she’s staring at Vesryn that makes her panic. An almost anxious jolt of electricity firing through her nerve endings, causing her to twitch unfortunately in her chair. 

“He’s alright, I guess,” she ends up saying. “Still annoying as ever.”

“I’d be surprised if he wasn’t.”

“I’m sure you’d be surprised now, too.”

“What do you mean?”

At first, she isn’t sure what she means. But then she narrows her eyes and thinks really hard for a second, uncovering the truth. “He’s actually, uh, kind of sweet sometimes.”

“Really?”

Almost immediately, the simple confession takes both of them back, prompting Zayis to clear her throat and continue to drink, feeling her head whirl from the volume of liquor she’s managed to consume over the last few minutes; honing in on the sudden interest in Vesryn’s eyes.

“Can you please stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re fishing for something.” 

Suddenly defensive, he scoffs and motions for her to hand over the bottle. “I’m not fishing for anything.” 

“Oh please, don’t think I don’t remember how gossipy of a bitch you are.”

All he does is smile, causing her to pinch the bridge of her nose and breathe, trying her best to remain calm. Because foolishly, now that she’s opened the can of worms that is Astarion, it’s like the man’s completely taken over. Seamlessly appearing in every corner of her exhausted mind, she can’t help but wonder how he’d react to this conversation.

Already she can hear him chastising her for skimping out on the details. Having practically memorized the inflections of his voice after years of endurance, she can clearly envision that cheeky little laugh of his. And how the way his hand might feel pressed against her cheek, taking in the frustrated expression that now coats her face.

The same one Vesryn immediately comments on. Pointing in amusement, he ends up asking her why she looks like that, causing her to cross her arms over her chest and shake her head, too stubborn to reveal the truth. 

“I see you're as emotionally distant as ever.” 

As he speaks, Vesryn just shoots her a knowing glance and slides their shared drink back to her. Barely batting an eye when she takes a few more angry sips.

“Am not.” 

“And childish.” 

For a moment she thinks about repeating history and grabbing the knife from her holster. But then she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, forcing herself to calm down just as Vesryn laughs. 

“Shut up. You’re just saying that so you can get me to talk.”

“Is it working?”

Whether it’s the challenging way he approaches the topic or the familiarity of his presence, it unfortunately is. More so than she cares to admit as she rolls her eyes, opting to avoid the topic by asking him what he’s been up to. Forcing the conversation to pivot as she continues to drink, listening to all the mundane stories of their old life. All the jobs he’s taken and how he’s kept himself busy while she’s been saving the coast. 

And for a while, it’s kind of nice focusing on something else. Something simple and disconnected from the reality that she now finds herself in. So much so that she doesn’t even register the empty bottle now in front of her after Vesryn changes the topic again. This time transitioning to her friends. 

“You said that Ravengard kid was with you?”

Nodding her head, she then feels the entire room begin to spin around her. Echoing out in a series of waves, it’s as if everything’s begun to slow down. Her mind working to catch up with the rest of her surroundings. Somehow it makes her laugh despite how uncomfortable it is. The kind that Vesryn immediately clocks as an indication of her inebriation, making him sigh. 

“Probably shouldn’t have let you drink all that, huh?”

She hums in response and closes her eyes, feeling the weight of everything slowly drift away as her body starts to melt further into the chair. 

“How about I go make you a bed?” 

“No.”

“No?”

She blinks and laughs, forcing her eyes to focus on her friend. “I want to go home.”

“You are home?”

She shakes her head almost violently. “No, home.” 

He doesn’t know that home means camp. Or, more specifically, that home to her is where Astarion is. Nor does he understand the jumble of words that fall from her mouth immediately after. “Zayis, you are way too drunk to be arguing right now.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying!”

He can’t help but laugh as he stands up, moving towards her to help pull her to her feet. “Saying what?”

“I want to see Fangs,” she whines, and before she knows it she’s being guided towards the door by her old flame’s hands without another word. Tiredly leaning against his shoulder as they walk down the darkened street.

“Where am I taking you?”

Through slurred speech she directs him to her camp, explaining the quickest route with the kind of drunken hand gestures Vesryn can’t help but mock. 

“Shut up, I’m drunk.” 

“I can tell.”

“And I’m tired.” 

“No kidding.”

“I think I might be in love, too.”

At that Vesryn stops walking, causing her to sort of bump into his arm and swear under her breath, grumbling about his lack of coordination before the words she’s uttered circle back to her. Forcing her eyes to widen as her stomach starts to twist, realizing what she’s done. Registering the fact that she just admitted out loud that her feelings are valid and not just ridiculous moments of lust clouding her vision.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

Despite the context, Vesryn can’t help but laugh, watching as Zayis begins to breathe with her entire chest. The fabric of her tunic rising and falling in rapid succession as her eyes dart back and forth. 

“I think I’m in love with Astarion,” she then says before slamming her lips shut, feeling her face grow hot and her hands begin to sweat. Every part of her body working against her as she suddenly bolts down the street, listening to Vesryn’s footsteps work to keep up. 

“Wait a minute, how long has this been going on?”

Unsurprisingly, Zayis ignores him, swearing under her breath when she comes to a street she doesn’t notice, forcing Vesryn to grab her arm and redirect her. 

“Do you think he loves you back?”

“I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”  

She repeats the same answer in frustration, throwing her hands up to cover her eyes, knowing now she’s fucked. Completely and totally fucked because despite knowing how foolish it is to fall in love with someone like Astarion she’s managed to do just that.

“Okay, well do you want to know?”

He asks the question like it’s a simply gained answer. As if asking Astarion about his feelings is something Zayis can do without feeling humiliated.

Because truthfully, she knows if asked, not only would she be met with that teasing voice of Astarion telling her I told you so regardless of the answer, but she’d also be forced to live with the fact that Vesryn was right all along.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

Quickening her pace, she can feel her legs begin to ache from the events of the day. All of the hours of travelling and fighting piling onto her weakened knees as she pushes forward. 

Watching her struggle, Vesryn follows behind almost cautiously, trying his best not to hover while remaining close. Well aware at any second she might just fall to the ground thanks to the alcohol. 

“I think maybe we should just get you home, yeah? I’m sure your boyfriend is worried sick.” 

Before he can even laugh at his poorly timed joke she’s turning to swing her fist at his head, causing him to grab her wrist in annoyance.

“C’mon Punchy, let’s not keep your leech waiting.”

Frowning in response she allows him then to guide her the rest of the way. Keeping his arm loosely wrapped around her shoulder for support, she dizzily latches onto his side, resting her head against his chest. Trying her best to ignore the sickness that resides at the base of her stomach as they continue forward, eventually making it to camp. 

“You know, this isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

While glaring at Vesryn she can feel her head begin to pound. The space behind her eyes where the tadpole resides ringing out in a painful rhythm of words. All of them loud and irate, saying something she can’t quite understand.

At which point she begins to descend without warning, causing Vesryn to swear and catch her arm, watching anxiously as she moves one hand to her temple.

“Zay?”

When she doesn’t immediately respond he maneuvers her to the ground, kneeling in front of her with nervous hands to hold her face, searching for further signs of distress until she’s completely still again. 

“Sorry, that uh, happens sometimes.”

“What?”

“The tadpoles,” she mumbles, brushing his hands away to rub her eyes, feeling the pain still linger behind them but at a much smaller scale. “Sometimes when one of us gets a bit emotional or something they…” 

As she trails off with a yawn she attempts to mime the word connection by pressing her index fingers together in front of her. A motion Vesryn thankfully understands, nodding his head in response. 

“We don’t—“

The sound of a clearing throat pulls her away from the conversation. Her eyes shifting from Vesryn’s face towards a very pissed-off Astarion now standing in front of them with his hands on his hips. 

“Am I interrupting something?”

Instantly, both she and Vesryn jump to speak, their voices fumbling over each other until Zayis eventually turns back and frowns, prompting Vesryn to innocently raise his hands and stand up. 

“Ves was just bringing me home.”

“At this hour?” Astarion asks, his voice lower than normal. Angrier even. A rumble of sound emanating from his chest as he crouches down to face her —instantly smelling the drink on her breath. “Wait a minute, you’re drunk.”

“Am not,” she slurs, grinning. Expecting him to grin back or crack some sort of joke. Not shift his jaw and stand as he does, moving towards Vesryn faster than she can think to blink. 

“I always knew you were an idiot,” she hears him say, watching him reach for Vesryn’s clothes. Gripping the collar of his shirt with such ferocity that the only sound that Zayis hears after that is the sudden groan her old partner lets out.

Which makes her panic, realizing then that Astarion isn’t just pissed —he’s livid. Red not only in the eyes but also in the face, prompting her to try and stand up only to fall back down thanks to the lightness that travels throughout her head.

“What’d you do to her, huh? Get her drunk and then take advantage of her?”

Trying but ultimately failing to speak over Astarion’s angered assumptions, Zayis eventually opts to reach for the fabric of his pants instead. Pulling at the base of his calf to gain his attention, muttering his name through the mess of sounds until she’s been ushered to her feet by a pair of arms.

“I see the apology’s going well,” Wyll says, and immediately she whips her head to face him in response, taking in the humoured expression across his face before turning back to see the two men being ripped away from each other by Karlach’s brute force. Both of them continuing their attempts at violence. 

“This isn’t how we treat our guest, Fangs,” Karlach scolds, but Astarion’s already cursing Vesryn’s name. Using whatever insult he can think of to throw the poor man’s way. Ignoring Karlach’s plea for him to shut up even when she threatens to knock him out cold if he doesn’t behave.

Which only causes more issues when the rest of the camp begins to realize what’s going on. All of them piling out of their tents to watch this ridiculous display of angry men fighting over an issue neither of them really have much control over. Considering Zayis is drunk and now grumbling into the crook of Wyll’s neck trying her best not to cry at the sight of Karlach shoving Astarion towards Lae’zel, it’s obvious that the best thing to do is drop it. 

Or at least, put a pin in it until morning. Which is exactly what Gale suggests when he wanders towards Lae’zel’s side, smirking at their not-so-friendly vampire before making some sort of backhanded compliment that has Astarion lunging towards him with a hiss. 

“Alright, alright. No need to maim the wizard,” Gale mutters, darting back. “I’m just here for the show not to get roped into any audience participation.” 

After that, Zayis hears Wyll sigh in defeat as he runs his palm along the length of his face, trying his best to comfort her as she continues to wrap herself around him, digging her claws into his clothes while her tail grips tightly onto his legs. 

“I think we should probably get her some water,” he says, prompting Shadowheart to move towards Vesryn, placing a hand on his shoulder as she asks him if he needs any healing.

While shaking his head he ends up glancing over at Zayis who already looks like she’s dead to the world. Still grumbling incoherently under her breath, it’s as if her mind has been turned to sludge as Wyll drags her over to the fire, placing her gently on the ground. Practically forcing a stream’s worth of water down her throat by the time Shadowheart wanders over, casting whatever restoration magic she’s got left. 

“That fool of yours is lucky Karlach showed up when she did,” she mutters, moving to place either hand on Zayis’s face. Allowing the magic to spread through her cheeks like an icy veil, wrapping around heated flesh. Providing the perfect amount of relief for the tadpole behind her eye to settle back into its dormant state. 

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Karlach’s taking him home.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Zayis continues to drink through the process. Feeling the water soothe her aching throat as Shadowheart continues to speak, scolding her for being so stupid. 

“Gods, I can’t believe you let him get you drunk.”

“I didn’t let him do anything,” Zayis snaps, her eyes narrowing in annoyance, watching as her two friends share an unimpressed look. “I got nervous.” 

“And drank an entire bar?”

For some reason that makes Wyll snort, prompting Zayis to reach out and yank his horn, causing the warlock to groan and swat her away. “Hey! She’s right, you know!”

Regardless of whether or not they are, Zayis opts to go silent after. Sitting angrily between the two of them, she lets Shadowheart finish her spell before muttering out a quiet thanks. The kind that Shadowheart almost immediately reciprocates with an unenthusiastic no problem before retreating to her tent. Leaving just herself and Wyll to stew in the awkward silence of her actions as she continues to sip her water. Paying no mind to the curious eyes that dart between the camp and her face, picking apart the expressions that absentmindedly shift the longer she sits.  

“So, uh, do you want to talk about what happened or would you rather wallow?” 

Earning no response, Wyll sighs, prompting Zayis to look over with a frown. Both of them staring at each other, wishing that she’d just come out and say whatever needs to be said instead of rotting away, pretending like her actions are something other than self-inflicted wounds. 

“I promise no judgement, you know.” 

“I know. I’m just —I think I should probably talk to him first.” 

“Not sure he’s interested in talking.” 

Zayis snorts out of habit, moving a hand to rub her eyes, feeling her head swirl. “Fair. I probably wouldn’t want to talk to me either.”

“I’m sure if you give him time,” Wyll suggests, and even though she knows he’s right all she can feel is the lack of patience beginning to settle in. The undeniable urge to jump to her feet and run to his side almost doubling on impact. The temptation to confess all the thoughts that have plagued her mind over the last few weeks making their presence known.

It forces her to chug a few more glasses of water in silence. Trying her best to remain as rational as possible. Or at least, until she’s able to fully stabilize her thoughts in the form of a pros and cons list that Wyll almost immediately interrupts. 

“I know you say you are, but are you truly alright?”

At first, she doesn’t have an answer. Too focused on trying to figure out whether it’s a pro or a con to storm into Astarion’s tent, she hardly registers the words. Instead finding herself at a mental crossroads, debating the level of sobriety needed to confess one’s love before it becomes insulting. But then her mind catches up. Slowly but surely taking in the words. Feeling the genuine curiosity in his voice sound almost paranormal. As if he’s already used the tadpole to burrow into her mind and find the answer for himself.

Not that he’d need to, to know that she’s the opposite of alright. 

Even before arriving, she’d been on the absolute edge of sanity. Struggling to choose which battle to tackle first, since entering the walls of Baldur’s Gate it’s felt like she’s been pulled every which way. Slowly becoming stretched to the point of ripping. 

Which she wants to admit. But thanks to the guardedness of her brain, all she’s able to say is that she’s tired. That the well within her soul has sufficiently dried up leaving nothing more than a hole in the ground, waiting for its fill once again. 

With a sigh, Wyll slides a little closer and nudges her leg, offering support in whatever way he can as she glances at him, silently pleading for advice. 

“You need to rest, Zay.”

Genuinely curious, she looks at him with half-lidded eyes. The glassy look of drunkenness still heavily visible. “How?”

“By allowing your problems to run their course rather than trying to direct them yourself.”

Leaning forward, she groans into her hands. The emptiness of her head making it hard for her to understand the riddles Wyll often speaks in. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

Letting out a soft laugh, his hand finds its way to one of her horns to reciprocate that same push from earlier, forcing her to grumble under her breath. 

“It means you should go to bed.”

Groaning in response, she debates whether or not to argue, feeling her eyes shift towards Astarion’s tent —feeling that inevitable pull behind her eye, begging for her to curl up against his frame regardless of whatever fight might unfold. 

“Okay. But not because you told me too,” she eventually says, and Wyll just smiles and ushers her to her feet, forcing one final glass of water into her hand. 

“One more for the road, okay?”

All she does is nod her head and slowly make her way towards the tent. Staring intensely at the ground beneath her, she maneuvers around roots and rocks, trying her best not to let the remnants of leftover inebriation overtake her ability to function. 

Which proves easy up until she makes it to the tent. Feeling her vision shift in and out of focus as she attempts to push open the flap, there’s a moment where she sways back and has to catch herself, causing her lips to part into an awkward squeal. 

“What the hells are you doing?” Astarion says, and before she can even think to correct her footing she’s somehow pressed against his chest with her glass of water nowhere to be seen. Her body suddenly feeling warm thanks to the way his hands snake around her waist, tightly gripping the flesh beneath her shirt. Reminding her that despite the intimate position she finds herself in, he’s definitely still unimpressed. 

“How come you’re mad?” 

His eyes narrow, becoming two thin slits of rage that successfully scare her into submission, prompting her to swallow hard and sit up on her knees, feeling his hands tighten even more. “Are you seriously asking me that?” 

Following her lead, he forces himself to release her waist in order to lean into her, practically pressing his forehead against hers. “I mean, honestly, do you have any sense of self-preservation or do you just choose to act like an idiot?”

Immediately she blinks, processing his words. Marinating in the meaning until she fully understands. “You know, Vesryn isn’t an enemy —he’s a friend.”

“I’d argue otherwise, but I suppose your choice in friends has always been questionable.” 

Feeling the liquor rush through her system, she quickly reaches out to grab his shoulder, steadying herself against the sway that overtakes. Fully pressing her forehead against his despite wanting nothing more than to wrap her hand around his skinny little neck and—

“You didn’t tell me you were going to see him.”

Her mouth opens to respond —to tell him that it doesn’t matter— but then she stops, pulling away to explore the hurt expression across his face. Specifically the focused look within his eyes that fail to falter for even a second. 

“I didn’t think I had to.” 

“I suppose you don’t but—” 

“But what then?”

“But a courtesy would’ve been nice,” he practically snaps. “Or a simple warning at the very least —I think I deserve at least that.”

She looks at him confused then. Unsure what exactly he means, her lips part to ask, watching as his expression slowly matches hers. Both of them staring in anticipation for an answer that never comes. 

“You know I just went there to talk, right?” Her voice struggles through the fog that hits her head, causing her to frequently pause between words. “I didn’t go there to do whatever it is you’re…”

Trailing off, she wiggles her fingers, trying her best to insinuate that whatever assumptions he has are wrong. And that he’s being stupid, but she’s too drunk to incorporate that accordingly. 

So instead, she just settles for the former, watching the way his nose scrunches up, pulling at his upper lip to reveal the tips of his fangs. An expression that makes her wonder if maybe her words aren’t matching up with her thoughts, prompting her to sigh and move her hands to her face. 

“Fuck, I’m too drunk for this.” 

“Yeah, that’s becoming apparent.” 

For some reason that makes her laugh weakly. “I just… I don’t want to fight anymore. Not for this.”

“Then what do you want to fight for?” 

Pushing her hands further into the sockets of her eyes, she feels her head pound in frustration. All of her thoughts piling to the forefront of her mind, screaming at her to settle this once and for all. To tell him that she doesn’t want to fight anymore. To say that, instead of pressing their knives to each other’s throats time and time again, all she wants to do is toss them aside and kiss the scars they’ve inflicted. 

But because she’s drunk —because she can’t think without the whole process becoming far more difficult than it should be— all she does is move into him. Allowing her body to speak for itself in the form of a desperate hug, she wraps her arms around his shoulder before he guides her down into the bedroll. 

“Alright, easy does it, darling,” Astarion grumbles, his angered tone failing to match the sweetness of his words, prompting Zayis to frown and turn her back to him. 

“Don’t call me that. I’m mad at you.” 

“Since when?”

“Since you decided to be mad at me for no reason,” she says, causing Astarion to huff as he begins to run his fingers through the roots of her hair —feeling the familiar presence of her tail slowly wrap around his thigh. 

“Once again, I’d argue such a statement but clearly you’re too far gone to be able to defend yourself.” 

“Fuck you, I can do anything.”

“Agree to disagree.” 

“Agree to —shut up, Astarion.” 

Releasing a heavy sigh, he reluctantly continues his ministrations despite the abuse. Pressing the pads of his fingers deeply into the base of her skull. 

“Go to sleep, Zay. We can fight in the morning.”

In response, she grumbles out in protest. Ultimately failing to convey her disinterest as his fingers lower to the back of her head, following the line of her braid until he hits the end and begins to undo it. Then, with careful hands he works his way back up, feeling her slowly drift beneath his touch.

“Gods, sometimes I wonder if loving you is even worth the headache,” he tells her, unaware of the sliver of consciousness that manages to linger. Even when she nervously stirs at his words, wondering if she heard him correctly. 

Because there’s no way he loves her, right? Too focused on what he gains from being around her rather than her herself, there’s not a single chance he cares. That’d be impossible. Unthinkable. An admittance so beyond logic that as she lays there, eyes shut tight, she has to force herself to ignore it. To chalk his strange confession up to the liquor poisoning her mind with outlandish thoughts. 

Which thankfully isn’t hard given how drunk she still is. In fact, with very little effort, it only takes a few minutes of Astarion’s fingers moving through her hair to fully render her useless. Her body curling under the blanket, unaware of the restlessness Astarion experiences as the hours pass. Oblivious to the fact that, even before she wakes up, he’s already gone. 

Becoming nothing more than a vacant space that leaves her confused when she eventually rolls over hours later, groaning at the pain that rips through her skull, remembering everything that happened. Specifically, the words he may have said to her last night —the ones so far from reality that she can’t help but wonder if it was merely just a figment of her imagination. 

Hearing them echo in her mind, she palms the sockets of her eyes and sits up, feeling the aches and pains of the previous hours seep into her bones. Taking refuge in her muscles to the point that not even she can deny how much of a struggle it is to crawl around the sun-kissed tent, searching for the cup of water Wyll gave her last night before downing it in one huge gulp. 

Unsurprisingly it feels like a gift from every God combined. A blessing of liquid that provides her with enough energy to shakily crawl through the opening of the tent, squinting at the newfound light that hits her face.

Somehow it’s already sunrise. Even though it felt like she was maybe asleep for a couple of minutes, it’s obvious now that she got at least a few hours in. Something she’s thankful for as she wanders over to the pile of supplies by the put-out fire, rooting through the various bags until she finds a canteen of water. 

At which point she begins to drink and aimlessly walk, forcing her tired legs to move through the length of the camp and past the tree line, weaving through the obstacles of nature until she’s standing at the edge of a hill. 

Looking up, there’s a moment or two where she debates turning back. But then her body starts to move without warning, pushing her further and further past the threshold of capability she should have after a night of heavy drinking and emotional warfare. Disregarding the burn that envelops practically every fibre of her being until she hits the top.

Then she’s doubling over in pain, on the verge of tears, feeling the desire to give up filter through her determination, making her second guess her actions until she hears someone huff. 

“You look like a corpse,” Astarion says. “And not a fresh one either.”

Forcing out a laugh, she squints to see him sitting on a stump a few feet away with a mug of tea in his hand —another at his side like always. “Morning to you, too.” 

“Morning.”

His voice is quiet as he turns to look at the rising sun. Ignoring her as she moves toward him, taking the cup that rests beside him into her hands before she sits in its place. “Thanks.”

Surprisingly, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he just sips the tea and continues to soak in the light as he often does. Paying no mind to Zayis as she takes a sip of her own, staring at the side of his face.

“Did you rest at all?”

All he does is shake his head. 

“When did you leave?”

“Not long after you fell asleep.” 

Humming in response, she turns away to look at the sky herself, allowing her mind to drift to last night. Hearing that single word uttered over and over again in her mind until it doesn’t sound like a word at all. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Depends.” 

Releasing an annoyed breath, she takes another sip before she continues. “Always does, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm.”

After that, she sees him sort of smirk against the edge of his cup, prompting her to quietly groan and ditch the idea altogether. Feeling the walls of her heart begin to make their way up again —discarding whatever idea might’ve crossed her mind to even think about letting them down in the first place. 

Something Astarion immediately notices. Having failed to ask her question, he quickly turns to face her, exploring her features —noticing the sudden lack of curiosity that immediately befalls her face. “That’s it then?”

“What?”

“No question? No pretty little morning argument?”

She looks at him confused, her jaw dropping slightly open. 

“Not even a single threat relating to bodily harm?”

“I—“

“My, my, have you gone soft or something, darling?” he asks; his tone changing. Morphing to have this venomous quality, Zayis immediately scoffs at. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugs his shoulders and turns away, pretending like there’s no reasoning behind his words. Acting as if there's no fight to pick despite there very clearly being one.

“You know, if you have a problem with my behaviour you can just come out and say it instead of waiting for me to figure it out myself.” 

In response, he lets out quite possibly the fakest laugh she’s ever heard. “I could. Though, we both know that even if you did figure it out, you wouldn’t talk about it anyway. You don’t do emotions.”

“Neither do you.”

“Actually I—“

Without warning she stands up to chuck the mug over the edge of the hill, groaning from the pain of her muscles —trying her best to ignore the way they pull in strange ways as she turns to glare in his direction. “No, you know what? You don’t get to act like an asshole just because you’re mad that I didn’t tell you I was seeing Vesryn!”

“Oh, please, I’m not mad about that!” Standing up, he discards his mug on the stump and takes a step forward. Inserting himself into her space, watching her follow his lead until they’re practically nose to nose. “What I’m mad at is your lack of attention —for your inability to look around and see what you so clearly deserve!”

“Deserve?” Pressing a rough hand to his chest, she forces him back only to step forward, watching his eyes narrow in annoyance —his hands darting out to grip her wrists once she’s close enough. “You think this mistreatment is what I deserve?”

As she struggles against his hold, both of them bare their teeth in frustration. Neither one of them willing to admit their respective thoughts until Astarion’s eventually the first to cave, growling under his breath.

“No, but sometimes I think you believe that,” he says, his voice lowering. The sound of it reverberating through his chest like an avalanche Zay can’t help but stand at the bottom of, wondering when she’ll inevitably perish beneath it. 

Because that’s what it feels like sometimes, being around him. Oftentimes while attempting to navigate all the feelings that erupt each time he picks a fight, she has to hear things she doesn’t want to. To listen to the truth time and time again, despite wanting nothing more than to run from it. Almost every time it makes her breathless, hearing the way he picks her soul apart each time she gives him the chance. Feeling fine one moment and lost the next as he continues to speak. 

“Is that why you won’t talk to me? Why, despite all the times I’ve confided in you, you refuse to offer the same in return? Because you’re punishing yourself?”

Taking it all in, her gaze flickers down to his hands, watching them slip up her wrists, slowly moving to turn her palms to the sky so that he can gently rest his own on top. Inhaling deeply, it’s as if the weight of them are suddenly all over her body. Pressing roughly against her chest and arms —grabbing hold of her feet so that they keep her in place despite wanting nothing more than to run. To swallow whatever pride she has left and disappear for good. 

To pretend like he isn’t working up to some huge confession despite wanting nothing more.  

“Zayis?”

“What?”

She doesn’t mean to snap. But regardless, the word comes out like a bite, latching onto his throat. The tips of them diving into his flesh before he can even think to recoil. 

It makes him falter for a second. The entirety of his body twitching against the rise of her voice before he eventually puffs back up again, sighing so hard the only thing she feels afterward is the echo of his breath. 

“Gods, for once will you just fucking talk to me?” he then pleads, gripping the base of her fingers so tightly she ends up wincing. “Please.” 

“What do you want me to say, Astarion? That I’m punishing myself because I’m scared?”

“If that’s the reason, yes!”

“And what if I don’t know the reason?”

“Then—“

Suddenly, she rips her hands from his to move them to her face, pressing the pads of her fingers roughly against her temples. Shakily circling the flesh as she heavily exhales, trying to collect her thoughts as he takes another step forward, tugging her close by the waist. Forcing his fingers beneath the hem of her untucked shirt. 

“Tell me then. Are you punishing yourself because you feel guilty for what you’ve done? Or are you punishing me because the mere thought of either of us deserving each other is too much to bear?” 

It’s the kind of question that has her fearing for her life. Regardless of how many enemies she’s fought over the past few weeks. As she stares into Astarion’s eyes, watching the deep red rings nearly disappear behind narrowed lids, she has to force herself to stay. Knowing that if she doesn’t, she’ll just wind up back where she started: all alone, wishing just once she could have something real.

Because with Vesryn, it never was. Despite the adoration that still presents itself each time they’re together, that’s all it ever really grew to become. Two people admiring each other for reasons unrelated to love. Not people who fought tooth and nail just to earn the bare minimum. People who, despite everyone telling them to quit while they’re ahead, continued to choose each other above all else. 

Which makes looking at Astarion that much harder. As he bears his soul in his own way, asking her for something in return, it makes her realize that the reason she fears so much isn’t because she feels guilty for abandoning Vesryn but because she fears the judgement of it. Always self-critical of her own actions thanks to the scrutiny of her upbringing, it’s hard to look at what’s in front of her and not assume the worst. Considering they already bring out the worst in each other pretty much constantly, it’s obvious there’s always been some reservations. Despite being fully aware of their similarities and the chemistry that presents itself when needed, at all times there always seems to be a voice at the back of her mind telling her she’s stupid for thinking things might work out.

Because honestly, it probably won’t. Not with the way Astarion’s looking at her with those eyes or the way he’s practically clawing at her hips, begging for her to stay. Coaxing her into this false world where the two of them fall in love and get the happy ending neither of them really deserves. 

It isn’t realistic. Or truthful in any way, which is why when she speaks she doesn't lie or even coat the truth in honeyed words. 

“I don’t feel guilty,” she starts, dropping her hands to gently hold the crook of his elbows —feeling her tail follow behind and absentmindedly slink around his waist. “Ves and I —we weren’t good together.”

“Why?”

She looks away, pursing her lips as he nudges her closer. Pulling her eyes back in almost immediately. Keeping her there with him no matter what. “We never had this.”

“And what is this?”

“Lust? Love? I don’t...”

Trailing off, she shakes her head and closes her eyes, hearing that voice inside her head telling her this is wrong. That he and her and everything shared over the last few weeks has been nothing but a ploy. A tactic used to get what he needs out of her before he—

He interrupts her thoughts by grabbing her chin. Running his thumb along the space just below her lip, he then cocks his head and sort of smiles. “This isn’t just lust, you know,” he tells her, and suddenly it’s like she’s back at the tiefling party again, catching his gaze between moments of mingling, unable to deny the mutual attraction as he inevitably flirts his way beneath her clothes.

“It isn’t?”

Softly, his finger rises to touch her lower lip. Pulling it down ever so slightly, she sees his lips part into a toothy grin that has her heavily breathing, wondering if this is it. The moment she completely falls apart into his arms with no escape plan. The one where he says those magic little words and she falls headfirst into the palm of his hand.

“Not anymore.”

“Then… what is it now?” 

Whether it’s because he doesn’t know or he wasn’t expecting her to ask, Astarion’s rendered speechless. With his mouth partially open in surprise, not a sound comes out once the question is asked, prompting Zayis’s stomach to twist into knots so far beyond untangling that she honestly feels like she might pass out. 

Because of the sheer anticipation alone, she’s already struggling to breathe. Feeling her lungs begin to cave under the pressure of his silence, she finds herself acting before thinking. Moving before speaking. Granting herself the chance to take matters into her own hands as they rise to cup his cheeks. 

Beneath her fingertips, he feels colder than she remembers. Stinging her digits like slabs of carved-out ice, she lets her thumbs trail over the peaks and valleys of his face —exploring the highest points of his cheekbones down to the hollowness of his under-eyes. Memorizing every part with careful hands. Watching his expression change as she begins to lean in, bumping the tip of her nose against his before letting out the shakiest breath that’s probably ever existed. 

“Well, whatever it is, I hope it’s worth the headache,” she then says, feeling his hand slip from her chin to wrap around the back of her head. Both of them moving in to cross the one boundary that’s never been crossed. Neither of them caring that in the process their fangs knock haphazardly together before quickly finding their rhythm. 

Which surprises her if she’s honest. After always feeling like they’re on opposing sides, for a moment it doesn’t make much sense to her. As his lips gently shift to slot themselves against hers, it shouldn’t feel this perfect. It should be difficult like everything else. A battle of power and tension. Not easy. Not like she’s breathing or walking or driving a knife into someone’s chest. 

No, it should be harder than this. More complicated. A process so painstakingly awful that her mind should be telling her it isn’t worth it and run.

Except she can’t, can she? Not when his hands feel like they’re moulded to her frame —how his palms seem to rest perfectly against her head and hip, still pulling her in. All while slowly devouring her mouth with careful nips and licks that have her practically clawing for more. Her hands exploring his neck and hair, unable to choose which spot to settle into. 

It makes him grin against her, prompting her to frown in response, not sure why he finds the act so funny. Or why he ends up pulling away so quickly afterward, brushing away loose hairs that have fallen in front of her face. 

“Bit rude of you to throw my own words back in my face like that.” 

Almost angrily she reaches down to grip the collar of his shirt, attempting to shut him up with another kiss but failing when he grabs her wrist. 

“Greedy little thing.”

“Shut up.” 

In response, he hums in amusement and leans in to graze her ear with his lips. “One taste and you’re already begging for more, hm?”

“Gods, you’re insufferable.” 

“And you’re just pathetic, aren’t you?”

His lips peel into a smirk that has her angrily maneuvering him back to her mouth, digging her fingers into the roots of his hair as well as his shirt —ignoring the way he laughs through another hum while giving in. 

A laugh that has her heart foolishly swelling against her ribcage, threatening to burst as he begins to drag her down towards the ground, neither one of them caring how the dirt instantly clings to their clothes or how itchy the grass feels against their exposed skin, because right now, all they care about is this. These somewhat tender moments spent discarding shirts and pants —both of them awkwardly laughing through the mess of limbs that bump against each other in the process.

Somehow, all of it feels too good to be true. Having waited years to properly feel his hands trailing up the length of her spine and his teeth nipping at her flesh as she rests on top, it feels like a projection of her desires come to life. The way he palms the back of her head, guiding his mouth to a particularly supple part of her neck. 

It immediately makes her eyes flutter shut, waiting for the moment he decides to strike. Becoming nothing more than teeth and hands working to take their fill. As she lies on top of him, breathing so hard she’s certain she's probably damaged her lung in the process, she can feel his tongue teasing the area. Poking out to coat her skin in saliva before he presses another opened-mouth kiss and pulls away.

“Can I?” he asks, and before she can even think she’s nodding mindlessly. Allowing whatever he wants to happen because the fight’s died out. Whatever need she once had to hold power over him lost the moment he smiles and kisses her lips, sucking away her air before he does the same with her blood.

At which point she’s almost certain she’s going to pass out. With the lack of oxygen and now that familiar pain plunging into the side of her neck, it’s a miracle that she’s still able to stabilize her body. As he begins to push in, she can’t help but jump from the contact, realizing how different it feels in comparison to something like her wrist. 

Because despite having experienced the sharpness of his teeth followed by the languid lapping of his tongue against far less intimate places, this feels completely different. More euphoric and intense —something she has to push through as the pain begins to meld into pleasure as the seconds pass.

Which isn’t all that difficult. Not when they’re holding onto each other for dear life, every so often shifting to get a better angle. Moaning under their breaths for different reasons despite sharing the experience. No longer trying to suppress the feelings that stir when Astarion inevitably pulls away, dripping in blood that she immediately moves to wipe away. 

“You eat like a starved boar,” she says, trying not to giggle at the way he chases her blood-stained fingers, somehow still desperate for more. 

“And you moan like a banshee.”

“I do not!”

Without warning he begins to mock the sound of her voice, throwing his head back, causing her to press her palm fully over his mouth. 

“Do you ever stop?”

His voice doesn’t carry through her hand so she reluctantly drops it, giving him a pointed look only to receive another grin. “Only if you want me to,” he then says, and almost immediately she feels her face begin to heat up, realizing that she doesn’t. That instead of stopping and taking a second to talk or even breathe all she wants is more. 

So, she responds with another kiss. Not caring about the taste of her blood on his lips or the desperate way she falls slack against his chest, feeling him twitch against her. As she licks the seam of his mouth right open, hungrily pushing her tongue to meet his own, she doesn’t care that he’s adjusting her hips. Grabbing hold of her flesh to position her over the tip of his cock.

With nothing but the sensations of their bodies hurriedly working to become one, she hardly registers anything other than the head teasing her folds, failing to fully enter since she keeps squirming. Something she doesn’t register until he bites her lip a bit too hard, prompting her to pull away and narrow her eyes, watching him frown. 

“Stop moving,” he says, but like always she ignores him, moving whatever way her body decides is right until he’s angrily groaning and turning them over, pinning her against the grass. “Brat.”

“Asshole.” 

He leans in to steal another kiss while using his hands to hold down her hips, feeling her grind against him. “Thorn in my side,” he mutters. 

His voice vibrates against her mouth in a way that has her absolutely reeling. Forcing her hands to dip down to his chest, tracing the carvings of his muscular structure as her tail wraps tightly around his thigh. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

“Pretty?” Somehow he sounds surprised. “Is that a genuine compliment?”

“Maybe.”

He hums and releases one of her hips, moving to grip his cock, giving it a few tentative strokes before lining himself up again. “Care to grace me with another one?”

Once again teasing her entrance, she finds herself shifting upwards, chasing the high of him. Following his sex in absolute misery trying to get him to give in without the need for praise.

“Or perhaps I should give that mouth something else to do?” 

Before she can even think of a clever response he’s moving in. Slowly dragging through her, making sure that the process of it all is almost painful due to its lack of speed. Stretching her out, there’s a brief moment where she has to reach for his arms. To tether herself to him in some other way as he moves just shy of the hilt, leaning down to grin. 

“I’m not hearing any words coming out of that mouth of yours.”

At first, she breaths, adjusting to the feeling of him slipping inside. Trying her best not to focus on the way she instinctively clenches around as she grits her teeth. 

“C’mon now,” he coos. Then ever so slightly he pulls back, dragging the pleasure out of her throat in the form of a moan. 

“Fuck, I love you,” she says, and immediately they both freeze. Neither one of them able to fully register the words until she opens her mouth again, stuttering out an apology. Scrambling to sit up and backtrack only to find herself being pinned back down and taken over.

Before she can even think the wicked snap of his hips quickly becomes enough of a distraction to forget what she just said. Thanks to the way he abruptly pushes and pulls only to slow it all down, it’s as if the regret evaporates into thin air. The phrase itself turning nothing more than a memory as she lets her hands roam across his back.

Now pressed against her, she feels his palm circle around to the base of her spine to create an arch. Providing both of them with a more comfortable angle for him to rut inside her, hardly caring that his pace has fallen out of time. No longer thinking about the finer details. 

Moving in tandem, their lips part so that she can finally breathe, showcasing the stains of blood that cover the lower half of her face, prompting Astarion to smile. 

“You’re perfect,” he tells her. “Better than perfect.” 

And in the moment, she’s tempted to ask what that means. Or to poke some sort of fun in return, but there’s too much happening. The overwhelming sensations of his cock and hands and the way her entire stomach jumps at the sound of his words becoming far more important than her habit of gaining the last word. 

Which only helps build the tension between her thighs. As he continues to jut forward only to slip back, suddenly there’s an additive of movement against her clit. The presence of trailing knuckles brushing, moving much slower than his hips. 

Almost lazily, they glide across her nerves in circles, steadily adding to the collection of pressure. Forcing the pulsing stack of pleasure she feels to become too much as she lets out a pathetic whine.

It’s the kind that has him falling apart. No longer able to keep any sort of pace at all, it’s as if he’s suddenly lost in the dark, struggling to maintain the path set out before him. Forgetting all about past instincts as drops to her chest, kissing her face and neck —licking away remnants of blood before continuing down. 

“Don’t stop,” she says, and even though she wouldn’t put it past him for doing so out of spite, she’s thankful he doesn’t. Instead, discarding all semblance of sense to guide her over the edge. 

Applying a rough bite to the top of one of her breasts, it’s at that moment that Zayis feels the scales tip in her favour. Manifesting in violent tremors that wreak havoc throughout her body, it’s as if she’s lying against the shore, letting the waves lap at her skin. Allowing their strength to pull her in without protest. 

Still above her, she can feel Astarion continuing. Too wrapped up in the feeling of her walls contracting on instinct, he sometimes falters but refuses to quit. Unable to stop even when she’s trying to pull away, the sensation of her orgasm becoming too much.

Because the feeling of that combined with the way he’s touching her —the way he’s pressed against her, practically consuming her skin with his sharp teeth— is hedonistic. An act of pure indulgence that has her joining it, allowing her tail to tangle around his waist as he continues to fuck her through her climax. Forcing her fingers to find a home in his hair, coaxing sweet sounds of pleasure from his pretty little lips. 

“Come for me,” she tells him then, pressing a kiss to his head, watching his neck crane upwards to capture her gaze as he heeds her call, quickly spilling out inside her cunt. No longer able to suppress the shakes that rattle against her thighs, she lets out a soft laugh.

Which prompts him to look up at her in confusion after he’s finally settled down. Noticing the warmth of her features just staring at him. “What?”

Almost immediately, she bites back a grin, trying her best not to make some obscene sound when he eventually slips out of her and falls to her side. “Nothing.”

Now on his back against the grass, he narrows his eyes at the sky above before glancing back over, shaking his head at her comment. Reaching out to playfully smack her face to the side before releasing a sigh. 

“You’re lucky I love you too,” he says, staring at her face —watching it quickly dart his way with widened eyes and parted lips. An obvious lack of thought gracing her mind until everything comes flooding back. 

Then all at once, every reservation disappears. Every hesitation or doubt ceasing to exist the moment she sees the subtle smirk that spreads. How it renders her beyond uselessness, unable to reply let alone breathe. 

“Rendered speechless?” he then teases, using what little energy he has left to prop himself up and lean over her, brushing his nose against hers. Letting the skin-on-skin contact further fluster her system. “That’s new.”

Greedily, she raises her head to kiss him. “So is telling me you love me.”

“So is…”

He trails off, unable to come up with a viable answer, prompting her to smirk back. 

“Gotcha.”

In response he reaches down to pinch her hip, making her squeal. “Careful now or I might put that mouth to better use.”

“Mm, maybe you should,” she teases, but before he can respond there’s a rustle in the bushes, prompting them both to stop in their tracks as they look down the path, noticing a familiar elf stepping towards them. 

Which makes Zayis swear under her breath. Pushing Astarion away, she hears him make a sound of disappointment as she scrambles for her clothes, tossing her tunic over her head before moving to stand —stopping at her knees when she sees Halsin look their way. 

“Ah, I see you two have decided to patch things up the old fashioned way,” he comments, smiling between the two of them. Failing to care about the state of their dress before he continues to walk past them with the gentle wave of his hand, causing Astarion to snort. 

“You know Halsin doesn’t—“

She tosses her pants at his head before he can finish, grumbling in embarrassment as he throws the fabric aside, once again pinning her against the grass with a rough kiss.

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo @jjfchk @idiotsatan @bluestuesday @bloopthebat @art-by-greenie @heneralmoon @sukunababe @dreamingaboutyousworld @ranfithegood @haniscrying @liadamerondjarin @the-lake-is-calling @marina-and-the-memes @rookieoftheyear @zraloci-cpr @kaetmo @snickerdoodle-daydream @wowowwild @d1anna @raswiet @conniesbbymama @venus-wrts @demonicthorns @kihten @sanscas @spammypasta @leighsartworks216 @rose-gold-blue @p1ssmagg0t @hellish-writes @ghostinvenus @otayz @sexysquatch @sleepyeclair @colorful-anxieties @alina-exe @lillifer @girlwiththepapatattoo @acelin-ginsberg @pinkuranium @catrad0rable @scarletrosesposts @qwnamidala @itsrosebabe @bunnyperi @queenofcarrotflowers-s @tatumadams20 @spkyxszn @chlort @f3v3rs @awkwardwookie @joy-the-reader @warm-milk-with-honey-blog @vertigocrime @iyis @wildpiper @pebblethestone @tillywasneverhere @bex-03 @revemiya @staticspouse @itzagothamcitysiren

(tags continued in reblogs)

[not-quite-there-myself]

BRAIDING HAIR—GIRLS COMPILATION

Small drabbles on a master attendant who wants to braid their Food Soul's hair. How do the girls react?

Feat. Milk, White Truffle, Surströmming, Maple Syrup, Chrysanthemum Wine

Boys version here!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Milk

" You want to braid my hair, Master Attendant? Of course, I don't mind at all. "

Ever the sweetheart, she has definitely let others braid her hair—of course, that includes her master attendant, too! Her hair is soft and silky, it feels like running your hands through milky goodness. It also smells faintly sweet, like vanilla. Milk sometimes offers her hair to you to play with and experiment on, as she knows that you like to braid hair. She happens to enjoy the process as much as you do, the feeling of having her hair parted and styled making her relax into your touch. She encourages you to do whatever you please, whenever you'd like. She never minds a calm moment with her dear attendant, no matter how brief.

" Have you come to see me again, Master Attendant? I'm glad, any moment with you always makes me feel happy. "

White Truffle

" Is that Master Attendant? Oh! I've never been asked that before... Please do! "

Being a researcher of science, White Truffle doesn't often encounter people who are interested in interacting much with her outside of academic affairs. Now that you are her attendant however, she's glad that that has changed. Something as intimate as touching her hair isn't something she's exactly used to, but she's open to letting you style it as she hasn't had others do it much before. Your hands, regardless of skill, weave her hair with such care that she can't help but focus on the way it feels. She finds herself smiling a little. She might work on something herself while you're there, and she might get too invested in the peace that she doesn't realize you've already finished braiding.

" Master Attendant, what you did to my hair... Thank you. In the future, could you try styling a different kind of braid for me? "

Surströmming

She has to contain her excitement and eagerness when you ask. Surströmming absolutely adores your hands in her hair, your fingers coming through the strands and weaving them together. Her hair is easy to comb through, like moving your hand through water. She doesn't care about how long it takes you to braid—her hair is quite long after all. In fact, she welcomes any chance to spend time with you, even if it's for something as small as styling hair. She loves whatever you do, really. Even clumsily strewn braids will earn a compliment from her.

" Ahh, you've braided my hair so lovingly… wait, please don't go just yet. Can I... ask you to do another? "

Maple Syrup

" If that's your wish, Master Attendant, I will accept your request without fail! Huh? It's nothing so serious? E-Even so! "

Any time you ask something of her, she's quick to accept right away, treating it like a noble quest for a knight in training. Even for something small like braiding her hair, she does whatever she can to fulfill your request; yes, even if it just means sitting still. Maple Syrup is very encouraging even if you aren't starting out. She trusts you completely and loves sneaking peeks and waiting through the process. Whatever you end up doing, she'll be happy with because she knows you took time on it and tried your best. She genuinely does not think you could disappoint her—she probably can't get disappointed by anything if it comes from you.

" Oh, Attendant! I think the braid you made turned out so cute! If you're not satisfied, please trust in your knight to sit still when you try again! "

Chrysanthemum Wine

" You want to braid my hair? I'm not someone who usually gets that sort of request... Hehe, do not fret, Master Attendant. That's not a 'no.' "

For someone who travels and fights often, it's a wonder how her long hair doesn't get in the way of her actions. Pointing this out as a guise for your real intentions, Chrysanthemum Wine gets an inkling that you want to do something about it. You hesitate when asking outright, worried that she'd say no. But to your surprise, she doesn't mind it at all. Keeping a straight posture and taking off her hat, she waits for you to start braiding. As she doesn't keep hair ties on her, you end up giving her one that stands out in comparison with her dark hair. The braid falls behind her in an elegant way, and she thanks you as she examines your handy work with a satisfied smile.

" As a swordswoman, my movements allow me not to be hindered by my hair or clothes in battle... But your braid certainly makes it easier. "

____________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Please do not copy, repost, or translate, thank you !

[unohanabbygirl]

FMN SPOILERS!!!!

BE WARNED FMN SPOILERS! Ch. 31-32

……….

Okay these chapters are filled with angst! I can’t even, but I think I saw the moment Daemon die a little bit when Luke is all but rejecting him as a parent. I love that people zoom in on small details (driftmark incident) I didn’t notice but someone zoomed in on Daemon putting his whole arm around Luke as Luke goes to check up on Rhaenyra how he just stands guard and looks at everyone like “I dare you, lay a hand on my future wife and son!” I would think he was Luke’s own father with the way he acts. Harwin, my guy needs to up his game, cause right now he’s all but neglecting Luke, I expected him to demand answers from Aemond and Aegon, who knows he might go over the house and ask? So Luke doesn’t love Aemond yet, but he might soon fall for him, is what I’m getting from him? Rhaenyra and Daemon having marital issues, would that have to do because of what happened between them during the Dance? Something tells me that Rhaenyra finding out Daemon lied to her about how bad it got is going to lead to marital problems in the future I just hope no divorce, but close it, maybe for a little bit a lil separation. Rhaenyra threatening Daemon about taking her babies and leaving him because she can’t trust anyone anymore. That could be the worst thing for Daemon, I feel bad for him but he shouldn’t have lied. The family needs to be on the same page with Luke and it’s like everyone is on a different page or different story. Hiding, lying, making up half truths not a good combo. Brienne is awesome btw!

P.s. this slow burn is killing me, can’t Aemond just climb the window to Luke’s room and sneak in and cuddle with him. They can be quietly making out under the covers and hopefully Daemon doesn’t have a stethoscope trying to hear for anything suspicious.

Daemon has loved Luke from the moment he heard news of Rhaenyra’s pregnancy simply because of the fact that whatever child she had was an extension of her and anything that’s Nyra’s is his. But it was at that moment on Driftmark when he saw what lengths Luke went to defend both his brother and cousins who he barely knew without hesitation is when he went full on dad mode. He practically imprinted on the kid once he saw those chubby cheeks smeared with blood because who wouldn’t???

He’s not an emotional man by a long shot, but when Daemon does allow himself to feel, those feelings hit hard enough to leave him breathless. It’s right at the moment when Luke finishes his rant that the only thing Daemon can do is give him the biggest papa bear hug and kiss because if he didn’t than he’d probably end up throwing something which would only affirm the violence of men in Luke’a mind and probably send him into a bad panic attack.

Harwin is a complicated subject at the moment and I’m glad you noticed. In the beginning we could see how ready he was to finally be a father to his long lost son, but now that presence seems to have dimmed immensely. It’s not that Harwin is trying to be neglectful but that this has all become so real as the true reality of the young man Luke now is comes fully into light. Luke is distant, pushes away most people, and is overall a very hard person to make a connection with if you’re an authority figure. Not to mention that he’s easy to tick off. While Luke may not go full on batshit when annoyed, you can always tell by his demeanor and tone how over it he really is. It’s by no means an excuse for Harwin’s distance as a father, however it does give reason as to why.

The guy is scared that he’ll only drive Luke further away if he pushes but he’ll have to realize trying and failing is better than never having tried at all.

Rhaenyra and Daemon’s marriage is by no means a perfect one yet it’s worked out wonderfully for decades now. With that being said, there are very few things Rhaenyra will accept this time around and lies or omission of the truth is #1 on her list, especially when it comes to her children. Just like her son Rhaenyra can’t stand being lied to and everything Daemon’s covering up is a pretty damn big one.

Martial issues (and issues within their polycule as a whole) are on the horizon and it’s unavoidable considering the circumstances. Rhaenyra would 100% take the kids and book it to the Vale if she felt it was best for their future as a family because if she can’t trust Daemon then who can she trust? This man has been her entire life two times over and though Daemon may not realize it now due to all the stress, he’s putting it all on the line with this horrible idea of protecting her from the truth as if she’s a child rather than a grown woman. Very frustrating but it is what it is.

Lol, Luke’s room being a secret Lucemond paradise while everyone on the outside of that door is on the verge of separating. Poor Daemon’s gonna regret agreeing to give Luke the room with an easily accessible balcony pretty soon.

[golbrocklovely]

Twitter is trying to cancel SnC yet again I see.

If I were SnC I would literally just delete all my twitter profiles except for their channels twitter which I'd then use ONLY for promoting when new videos drop. Just so the twitter fans can learn that they aren't as important as they seem to think they are because those boys are nearly at 12 million subscribers on youtube, twitter is but a mere handful of that subscriber count so it really wouldn't matter if they all decided to stop watching.

(plus the video they're all angry at is actually performing very well, it's already at 2M views on just day 2 of releasing. This suggests a lot of the fandom may not share twitters opinions...)

i don't see snc deleting their twitters, but i do see them continuing to not use them and just letting them sit dormant bc that side of the fandom is too dramatic.

i've said my peace on this 100 times over, but i don't mind saying it again bc it keeps happening and no one over there is getting it lol

not that i'm telling them either since most of them i have blocked or they have me blocked lmao

that side of the fandom has cried wolf one too many times and now expects snc to still listen to them. and look, back in 2020/21, maybe that would have happened. bc twitter held a lot more stock back then. but not anymore. they thought they could call out snc for every little thing and expect them to always listen and for all of the fandom to agree. and reality is that just won't fly anymore.

were there genuine reasons to call them out before in the past (and even now)? sure. i'm not here to argue that. but what i am saying is once everyone jumped over the line in the sand and started getting mean and calling them out for nonsense things, idk what you expected to happen.

it's one thing to complain about content and what's going on in it or that it's taking too long to get new content out. it's another thing to bitch about their gfs and say they shouldn't date them, or in general to bring up personal shit.

where our input starts and ends is content related, and that's it. anyone that thinks they have a say in what snc do in their own personal lives are delulu. it doesn't matter if you believe you have their best interest in mind, your input is unwanted. that's just reality.

also i think a lot of ppl on twitter think they speak for everyone in the fandom but they fail to realize that this fandom has 12 mil ppl in it (roughly). even if one of the louder fans on there has a 1000 followers, that's not even 1% of the entire fandom. that's not even .01%. that's how little the amount of ppl you speak for.

my thing is, all of this complaining and drama started in january, around colby's bday, when the pics of them with the girls leaked. and since then, this fandom and that side in particular hasn't shut up since. and look, obviously not everything is about the girls and not everyone is even complaining about the girls. i'm not trying to cast wide nets here and assume. but… be honest: yall have been complaining for WEEKS about a variety of things, ranging from them having gfs that might be clout chasers to snc not talking about a genocide, and somehow…….. i'm supposed to take any of that seriously??? snc are supposed to take that seriously??? those are two VERY different things, no?

but hey, you wanna be upset at snc for whatever reason, be my guest. i'm not here to stop you. do whatever you want. but at what point do you just accept that snc aren't gonna meet your demands and thus your only option is to leave?? just curious. and are you okay with the fact that just bc you leave doesn't mean anyone is gonna miss you, including snc? harsh reality is snc don't know who you are, and that's not bc you don't deserve to be known - they just realistically don't know you, and you leaving isn't gonna do anything.

but if you aren't enjoying your time here, leave. it's better in the long run to pay attention to something that actually brings you happiness rather than stick around and be miserable.

[ganondoodle]

Hey, I adore your artstyle mate, I loveeee all the vivid colors and the fact that most of it lacks lines?? You doing the hard stuff, but it paying off 💜

can I ask, as I’d like to get into comic making, how long does it take you to finish a a single panel?

Hi!! thank you very much!! drawing lineart is incredibly frustrating to me so im very glad i was able to make the jump to mostly lineless artwork, tho im very much still at the beginning to learn how to do it xD

to answer your question, i .. cant say really, it depends on what is on the panel, and i always jump around when working on a page, i draw half of the very last panel, then jump to another, maybe i see something i want to change right away and work on the third besides i ... dont know anything about panel composition, i think in movies so i play it and try to pause it on a frame that could work as a panel, whichs is probably why it goes alot slower than normal comics, idk how much to skip gndfjknvgfdjk

im by no means an expert in making comics, you kinda have to find your own way of what works for you, i have done many in the past but all failed, i gave up before getting even one chapter done many times

general advice i can give you is, most importantly, dont wait, i know its daunting to start, but you have to start, even if you dont think you are good enough, you will always change and improve anyway, better start now or you might do it never, and remember, when a page is done its done, i know how tempting it is to go back and redo it, but if you start with that it will only lead to an endless cycle of remaking it over and over

a cause that made me abandon my old projects, was partly lack of support/recognition, but mostly that i was forcing myself to things that werent fun, like one i made in black and white bc i thought you had to do it bc color takes too long, but i live for colors, so it drained the fun out of it immediately

the only "rules" i have set for myself is that its understandable, the flow of the action doesnt flip around too much, speech bubbles are aligned in a way that guides you (of course im not perfect at that either and always learn); i dont jump between pages, i jump between working on panels, but i dont start another page before the previous is at least acceptable, otherwise id get ahead of myself and get impatient, just wanting to skip ahead and neglect older pages; and that i only work on a panel/page as long as it has acceptable quality and is fun to draw, when i notice im getting bored or frustrated i finish it quickly as best as i can and move on, otherwise it might drag the entire project down, which is why each panel or page in 'Destiny' varies alot in quality

i can barely look at the first pages .. or even at the last one i made for that matter, but its also fascinating, how much my art changes within even one update which takes me about a month for 4 pages, since i have set my 'fun' rules at least, it used to take much longer (i wish i was faster, and i could be, but i have a job, and have to look out for my health, both physically and mentally, so i take whatever time i need and draw however much i feel like drawing, no rushing)

my progress so far is that i write a rough script, what happens, what dialog, where it ends, and so on, it doesnt have to sound good, god knows mine are shitty xD but its a good guideline, even if rough! then i make a rough draft, basic panel layout, dialog (it always changes fro mthe script, again its more liek a guideline than a rule ;) ) then i start with actually drawing the first page, my art and way of .. art and writing changes incredibly fast (idk if its for the better lol) so .. by that point i redraw the rough draft version of the page if i see how it works better, rewrite dialog too, and even cut stuff from the rough draft

im not done with the first chapter (im slow af lol), but wrote the script for the second one when my hand was injured and i couldnt draw for a month, once im done with this chapter i will draw the rough draft for ch2, then write the script for ch3 then go and draw ch2 fully, at least thats the plan the more time passes the more i know what the next chapters are gonna be, tho i know the important points long before; right now i have the entirety of the first arc sepeareted into chapters, and the end of it all too, but between there its still a lil blurry and im adjusting everytime i think of soemthing better

anyway, sorry for that long ass ramble, its late and i thoguht about this ask bc im trying to get my want to draw back (not feeling well rn nkfdnkd) so i randomly decided to answer it .. probably in the most unhelpful way possible, alot of stuff noone aksed for lol

anyway, sorry, and goodnight uwu

[galactic-pirates]

Ok so it’s a day ending in Y and so I am thinking about Star Trek.

What keeps echoing in my head right now is the “all men are born equal but some are more equal than others.”

I’m newly pissed because at its core Trek is that frustrating, maddening dichotomy of hope for the future vs. the reality and inability to really break away or imagine something truly different.

The thought of a post-scarcity sort of utopia especially given the current political hellscape is such a comfort. The future can be better if we let it.

Where the maddening dichotomy comes in is something that has always threaded through Trek. In that people are people, they are imperfect and so while they always try, they sometimes fail. But the characters we root for, they are ultimately supposed to be the good guys. The Federation might make a misstep, but our hero, is supposed to call them on it or wryly accept the hypocrisy and that they still have work to do, or something along that lines. That doesn’t always happen obviously because people are writing the show, and those people have biases and prejudices and those blinkers come through. There have been some damn uncomfortable Trek episodes that went wide of the mark.

I’m rambling and I’m not sure I’m making my point. Narrative framing. Once Upon a Time was absolutely awful for this. The objective facts of the events said one thing like a certain character was a bad guy, but the writers made the characters say what a hero he was. Evidence didn’t match. There was a real dissonance. It made for bizarre viewing.

Picard has the same kind of shit going on. Jack Crusher got upset, and threw one hell of a tantrum. Hours went by in which he stole a shuttle and of his own free will went to the Borg cube. Yes he was then assimilated, and yes I would usually argue that the assimilated are the Borgs first victims and are not responsible for what they do as drones. They aren’t in control of their own actions. Except Jack broke his own link to the collective so how deeply assimilated was he? Seems like a lot of free choice here. And his “fire fire fire, kill the unassimilated” killed a lot of people. They aren’t specific how many but with 50 ships, and space dock, and planetary defense etc. I’m thinking a few hundred bare minimum, probably more like a few thousand.

What happened next? Was there any justice? No. Daddy is a human Admiral. So fast-tracked through StarFleet, assigned to the Flagship as a special officer.

Brings back an old sore point of Picard and his legacy vineyard estate. The events of Romulus happened, Picard was on the right side of history in terms of wanting to help the Romulans but when he failed to convince StarFleet he just fucked off to his large country estate, and what was sad? 15 years, nice comfortable life, staff to take care of everything. Raffi had a small broken down trailer in the desert. Maybe that was partly her choice, maybe she could have had an apartment in the city or whatever, but not everyone can have huge legacy country estates.

So much privilege and yeah that’s the unfortunate nature of reality. But it makes me so damn frustrated. The Federation is an ideal, principles and hope, and the best of Trek shows how they try but people are flawed, so they make their best effort. Power corrupts and institutions can be rotten but our heroes are supposed to be better. To try.

The changelings might have infiltrated StarFleet but they wouldn’t have replaced all the top brass. Some but not all. Which even if I am generous and say the changelings suggested some things, the rest of them agreed. It’s like The Winter Soldier where Hydra won because Shield sleep walked down the road to trading freedom for security. Our heroes are supposed to call that out but Picard at least is leveraging his position of privilege and benefiting from it. If the narrative framed that as a mistake, I would find it compelling, but that’s not what’s happening, and it feels bad.

I’m all for the struggle that Trek embodies of reality vs dreams of something better but the narrative needs to frame it that way. And it’s not.

[more-than-a-princess]

[ hello, rae! i still have some time left before the new year begins for me, but i just wanna thank you for making my experience in the rpc a fun, uplifting one. ofc, i know i ended up taking a massive hiatus from kensuke and couldn’t even bring myself to write him long term (since i ended up hyperfixating over other characters and trying to get more interactions on him was like pulling teeth), but it still means a lot you welcomed me back with open arms!

like, i can’t express enough how grateful i am you ended up rolling with my obscure muse choices and just being open minded enough to explore different relationship dynamics with them, whether they be romantic or platonic. HONESTLY, i might not always be around anymore (due to the fact i have work 🥲), but you are seriously one of those few friends i made that make being here worth it; in fact, i ended up initially regaining my love and passion for writing because of you, when previously, i had lost all the spark i had in it following the nasty fall out i had with former partners… and was deeply insecure over my own writing, to the point where for the longest time, i didn’t think i would actually reach a point where tumblr rp would be a hobby i could enjoy again; only, i’m glad i ended up sticking with it, because in the end, i got to reconnect with you and other people i would never have met/written with provided i never stayed.

REGARDLESS, YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN NOTHING BUT KIND AND PATIENT TOWARDS ME, so in 2023, i strive to not only be a good rp partner, but a good friend to you as well (even if i do happen to be significantly younger than you). but yeah, here’s to another year of interactions between our muses! HONESTLY, i look forward to seeing what mischief and shenanigans these blorbos get up to. ]

Tell me stuff at the end of 2022 or beginning of 2023 because what is time/time is a social construct - Accepting if still want to. Otherwise it's going to be thread replies, shitposts, and starter memes/possibly call for new muns and muses!

Aww, Livi, you are so kind! Thank you so much for sending this, it brought a smile to my face as I read it. As I've mentioned before: I care far more about roleplaying with you and the joy you have for your muses, no matter who the muses are. Your enthusiasm shines through each and every time (also, each and every time Sonia never fails to pester/be a nuisance to your muses so...that's what you sign up for each time).

And while we all hate work (eff work is a common saying in my house), I hope that no one ever manages to rob you of your passion for writing and roleplaying. I'm so sorry you were hurt by others, but in my opinion, never let anyone else ruin your fun around here. Write because you have stories to tell, because you love to write, because you don't know what you'd do without the creative outlet here.

Let's leave haters behind in 2022! If anything, consider the fact that for all the time muns spend trying to bring you down, they could be writing. Creating dynamics and storylines. Improving their writing skills. Instead of, you know, hating.

You're already a wonderful RP partner and friend, I just suggest keeping it up :D And I'm happy to be the older friend/wine aunt in the RPC. I will forever be telling you to drink water, wear sunscreen, sleep, and life will get better.

Consequently, I will also discuss the good old days if prompted. The days of RP and fandom before tumblr. Before social media. Just make sure I have my comfy chair, my slippers, and a drink. Possibly painkillers: I'm at the age where I can pull something getting out of bed nowadays (though I'm probably just overdue for a new mattress).

tl;dr - dear mutuals, I'm old. I do not tolerate drama or BS in my old age. I do tolerate long-term, feels-packed threads combined with dashcomm shitposting, OOC chatter, and wine/tea/drink whatever you want just stay hydrated please.

And like Sonia: I'm not up to date with popular slang. Or being a cool and hip person. Bear with us, please.

[the-last-airbadger]

My 2022

Another year has passed and boy was it an interesting one. Compared to the last two years where I kind of felt like nothing really happened, this year it felt like a lot happened. I’ll go into more detail in the next two sections, but this year I really felt like I was living and making progress in my life, so that was kind of nice. My life has changed a lot since last year, and I know it’s going to change even more in the next year, which is both exciting and terrifying. I’m really curious to see how my life will continue to change, but for now, I’m also happy to take a little break and reflect upon last year for a bit, because this end-of-year reflection I do every year is always really fun. So let’s get into it!

The Beginning of 2022 vs Now

So, like I said, my life has changed a lot since last year. The biggest difference is probably the fact that where last year I wasn’t even halfway through my Master, I am now completely done with my studies. It’s weird, but also really great. Because I’m done, I am able to actually have a Christmas break this year for the first time since, like, 2017. There are no more projects or essays on the horizon, and I literally will never have to write an essay ever again. I cannot tell you how great that feels.

Another major difference since last year is that now I have different friends. I mean, nothing has changed with my high-school friends @asiandutchgirl and @the-official-pentacorn, we’re still just as close as we’ve always been. But when it comes to the friends I made at uni, a lot has changed. Basically, most of them kind of stopped hanging out with me, and where last year I was still frustrated and lonely because of that, and trying to get them to hang out with me but failing, I am now at a point where I’ve just accepted that our group has fallen apart. And I’m okay with that now, because whatever I needed from them I’ve now been able to get from two other friends: the one friend from that group that still put effort into our friendship and who has now become one of my closest friends, and a new friend I made this year.

There’s been a bit of drama with those friends as well, not going to lie, but overall they’ve been great. Basically, what was going on was that I had a crush on the new friend, started hanging out with both friends a lot more than I could technically handle because I liked them both so much, then had to get over that crush and kind of learn how to be myself again, and now it seems like my old crush might have a crush on the other friend, and it’s a bit of a mess, but in general, our friendships are great and really quite strong, so I hope that whatever happens, we’ll be able to get out of this still being good friends.

I’ve also just learned a lot about myself because of that crush, such as the fact that I am, in fact, capable of having crushes like this, so I truly am straight and not asexual. I learned a lot about how I respond in certain situations, how I interact with others, what I can and cannot handle, how to stay true to myself, how to deal with certain situations, etc. I really think that despite the chaos and struggle that this year has sometimes been in the love and friendship department, I came out of it much stronger. I’m still growing, but I gained two good friends and that friendship has all been worth it to me. I really hope we can stay friends for a long time.

And then finally, transition-wise I also made a lot of progress. Last year I was still trying to get on the waiting list for a hysterectomy and vaginectomy. Now? Now my surgery is in less than 2 weeks. So yeah, a lot has definitely changed.  

The Best Things about 2022

Well, I guess, as you could tell from the last section, one of the best things of the year was getting closer to one of my friends, gaining a new friend, and basically having been able to find friends that could replace what I lost when most of my uni-friends stopped putting effort into our friendship. Since covid started in 2020, I finally no longer feel lonely and isolated anymore, and I think my friends, both new and old, really helped with that.

Another great thing that is kind of related is that this year, my D&D game (that includes both the two friends mentioned above and an old friend I kind of lost contact with) has become much more serious, which has made the game much cooler and more fun for me. We’re also seeing each other much more regularly now (once a month instead of once every 3-4 months), which really makes the game a lot better, and we’ve also been able to play in real life for the first time this year, which really adds to the game and has made it much easier to hang out with the group after the game, which is also fun.

Another great thing? Totally unrelated, but: I finished my thesis! Honestly, it wasn’t really that fun to write (though it wasn’t as bad as I expected), but finishing it, submitting it, and knowing that that big final obstacle was just over and done… that was a great feeling.

I also obviously have been able to get on the waiting list for a surgery I really need and have been able to make great leaps in my transition. It’s still going to take me a while to get where I really want to be, but any progress is good, and both the day I heard I had made it onto the list and the day I got my surgery date were really great days. I can’t wait to get closer to my final goal.  

What else? I feel like there’s been a lot, but I just have to think a bit. I went on vacation with my new friend and the other friend this year, that was really fun. It was only one night, but I hadn’t ever really planned my own vacation with friends before, so that was really fun. I also got a Grogu doll named Luke this year. That little buddy still sparks joy in my life. I found a fun new favourite series of books this year as well. The series is not finished yet, but I don’t really mind, because that means I’ll have new releases to look forward to in the future!

Oh, and I also actually saw my favourite girl-group LOONA live this year! That was amazing!! I felt a bit conflicted at the concert itself because my favourite member (and like 3 other girls) couldn’t make it to the concert, and it was clear the girls were severely overworked, but now that it is very likely that they’ll disband, I’m glad I managed to see at least some of them perform LOONA songs on stage.

I also went to the Waterstones bookstore in Amsterdam for the first time this year, which was something I really enjoyed. I saw a movie in 4D for the first time as well, which was an experience to say the least. @asiandutchgirl and @the-official-pentacorn and I also started a new D&D game this year, that has been fun as well.

And I think? That was about it? I can’t think of anything else right now, but overall I feel like I had a great year. Chaotic, but great.

My Resolutions for 2022?

Oh boy. Here comes the scary part. Did I actually complete last year’s resolutions? I’m quite sure I managed to succeed in quite a few, though I also know for sure that there are some I failed. Some I even failed on purpose, because halfway through the year I realized I didn’t actually want to do these things anymore. But how many will I actually have succeeded in? Let’s find out!

Read 35 Books! I only read 18 this year and didn’t reach my Goodreads goal of 45 at all, but I am excited to start reading more again and I can’t wait to read some more books! – This one is a clear success! I read 44 books this year, and I truly really enjoyed reading again, so that was great!

Read 5 Rick Riordan Presents books. I haven’t kept up with those releases at all but the two I read were really fun, so I want to read more of them! – This one is a fail, though I didn’t do that bad! I ended up reading 3 Rick Riordan Presents books this year, and they were really fun! I just think I didn’t read more than that because 1. I already had a lot of other books to read, and 2. I didn’t really buy a lot of books this year at all because I don’t have a lot of money, so I didn’t buy any new ones after reading the ones I already owned

Get to a point where I only have about 5 unread books lying around. Really, it’s kind of sad how I still haven’t read some books I got for my birthday like two years ago, so I really want to try to read books I already own before I buy new ones – Again, technically a fail, but I didn’t do too bad! Over the summer, I set myself a challenge to try and read all the books I owned, and I managed to get from 25 unread books to 10 unread books. Currently, I have only 7 unread books lying around, so I’m really close!

Finish 3 games! This was my brother’s suggestion, but it’s actually a good one, as I there are a couple of games I’ve started multiple times but have never actually finished, and I want to finish them at some point! – Success! I finished Professor Layton and the Curious Village, Subnautica, and the sixth Harry Potter game. The last one, however, I’d already finished once before, so I did not actually completely meet my goal of finishing all the games that I still wanted to finish, so for next year, I’ll set myself three specific games to finish!

My brother wants me to finish Skyrim, so I think I’ll give that a go! – … I’ll try again next year

Stay up to date with Critical Role Campaign 3. I’m still all caught up and I want to keep it that way. This is the first campaign I am actually able to follow live and it’s so much fun, so I want to keep doing that! – Yeah, this is one of those goals I gave up because I didn’t want to reach it anymore. I quickly realized that keeping up with 4 hour long episodes every week was not something I could keep up, and I wasn’t enjoying it as much as I hoped, so I stopped watching them.

Get to episode 50 of Critical Role Campaign 2. I love this campaign as well and I want to get at least a little further into it! – another fail, for the same reason as the previous one

Finish/Catch up on Doctor Who! I never watched season 12 and 13, but with a new doctor and writer coming I want to be all caught up again. I’m in the middle of a rewatch right now and am currently in season 9, so I should be able to catch up! – Success!! Actually, I would say that this is more than a success! I caught up on Doctor Who, watched the 13th doctor’s regeneration episode as it aired, and am currently incredibly hyped for the new episodes that will air next year. I got really into Doctor Who again in the second half of the year, and even rewatched season 1 and a bit of season 2 again. I’m obsessed now. So yeah, big win.

Get on the waiting list for a hysterectomy. – Success! Again, more than success, even! My surgery is in less than 2 weeks!

Finish my master thesis and (as good as) finish my master’s degree – Success once again!

So that is 5 fails and 5 successes! Not the worst!

Expectations for 2023

Okay. Brace yourself. I have a lot of big expectations for next year. First of all, I’ll start the year with surgery and recovery. Like I’ve said a few times already, my surgery is in less than two weeks, so the first 2-3 months of this year I’ll probably spend sitting at home and recovering from surgery.

Oh, and before that, I might have to have a bit of a difficult conversation with my new friend, but hopefully that will all go well and we’ll remain good friends after that.

So anyway, surgery, recovery, and then what? Well, my graduation will be in March, and that reminds me that I’ll get my thesis grade somewhere in January as well. So I’ll get my diploma, and then, once I am fully recovered and feel like I can function again, I will start looking for a job.

I don’t know how long it will take me to find one, but I hope that I can start working somewhere around April. Then I’ll have a few months to save some money while I look for my own place so I can finally move out of my mother’s house and become a strong and independent adult.

I will turn 24 in June, and hopefully get myself onto the phalloplasty waiting list as well somewhere around that time. Once I’ve had my first consult, I will probably also be able to start hair removal treatment for that surgery as well.

And then? I don’t know. I hope I’ll find a house somewhere during the summer. I probably won’t have much of a summer break this year, but hopefully I’ll be able to make up for that by taking a week off after I’ve moved into my new place.

Then after that, I don’t really know what I’ll do. Probably just try to settle into my new life and get used to living on my own and being an adult. It’s kind of scary in some ways, but I also feel like I’m ready for it. It’s time for me to become independent and start creating my own life.

Something I have to look forward to, however, is the fact that new Doctor Who episodes will be released in November and December of next year. I am so excited for that, and I hope they’ll bring me joy and comfort if I happen to need that at the time. The new Nevermoor book will also be released around that time (in October), as will the new Percy Jackson book (September), so I have stuff to look forward to!

A lot is going to change next year, but I think I will be all right.

2023 Resolutions

Okay, so here’s the part I’ve been waiting for: new resolutions! I always love setting new goals and resolutions. I don’t know why, but it just feels like a fresh way to start the new year. I also have some pretty big goals for this year, so let’s just dive into it!

I think I’m going to subdivide these goals into smaller categories this year, just because I feel like that might make this all a bit more clear and perhaps easier to read. I don’t know. I just like it

Life Goals:

Have Surgery! Obviously, my biggest goal for the year is to just finally have my hysterectomy and vaginectomy. I know it might seem like a bit of a cop-out to put something on my list that is very likely to happen, but the recovery is going to be tough, and you never know for sure it’s actually going to happen until it has happened, so if I have had surgery and recovered from it, it will still feel like a major accomplishment.

Find a job! The next big goal is to find a job so I can start my new life as a certified adult.

Move out! It’s going to be difficult to find a place to live in this economy, but once I have the money it will be my main goal. It really is time for me to have my own place.

Get on the waiting list for phalloplasty. I really need phalloplasty, so the sooner I get on the waiting list, the better.

Save some money. I have many saving accounts that are currently empty, and I have very little money overall. However, once I have a job, I might actually be able to save some money, so I hope that next year I’ll be halfway to my goal in 4 of my savings accounts.

Buy a new laptop OR a piano. My laptop is falling apart a little bit, and I haven’t played the piano in ages, so I hope that I’ll be able to buy either a new laptop or a piano sometime next year! However, whether I can get a piano or not will depend on whether I’ll have my own house, whether there will be space in that house, and how much money I’ll be earning haha.

As soon as I'm recovered enough from my surgery, I want to do push-ups regularly again so I can build up a little bit of strength again. However, it's going to really depend on how long I'll take to recover after surgery, so I don't know whether I'll actually be able to do this.

Reading Goals:

Read 25 Books! I know that’s a lot less than what I read this year, but I feel like I will be busy enough next year with other things, so I don’t know how much time I’ll have for reading. Still, I don’t want to neglect reading completely, so 25 books! If I succeed, I can go higher again the year after!

Get to a point where I only own 5 unread books at a time. I’m so close. I know I can do it

Finish reading at least 6 of the 12 series I’m in the middle of. I realized this year that it happens way too often that I start a series and don’t finish it, and then when I decide to continue the series I’ve forgotten what happened in the previous book, and that’s just a shame. So this year, I’m going to finish series instead of start them, and hopefully next year at this point I’ll only be in the middle of 6 series instead of 12…

Read 5 Rick Riordan Presents books. I still want to catch up on these books as well. I’m in the middle of 2 Rick Riordan Presents series at the moment, so if I finish those that’s already 3 books. Then the next Rick Riordan Presents series I want to read only has two books, so I want to try to read those too.

Keep reading classics. I want to read at least 2 new classics next year because I do want to keep reading those even though I’m done with my studies. However, I also don’t want to force myself to read too many of them against my will, so I think 2 is a good number.

Keep up with new releases! And by that I mean, read the new Truly Devious book, Percy Jackson book, and Nevermoor book in the year they’re released, so in 2023!

Art Goals:

Make 5 big art pieces. By that I mean I want to complete at least 5 drawings where I give them my all – colour it to my best abilities, add a background, and most importantly, don’t rush it! I want to make sure they are the best I can do.

Draw 2 more character posters for my D&D group. I drew 2 characters last year for my friends and framed both drawings, and they turned out so well and were so fun to make that I want to draw our entire party like that. However, they also took a lot of time, so 2 in a year should work.

Other Goals:

Finish the following 3 games: Life is Strange: Before the Storm, Subnautica: Below Zero, and Skyrim. If I finish other games that is cool too, but these are the ones I really want to finally finish!

Finish the Heartstopper comics and watch the Netflix show.

Check out some Doctor Who audio adventures! I put those off for when I needed to recover for surgery, so I should really actually listen to some of them while I’m recovering from my surgery.

If I do actually manage to get a piano, I want to start playing regularly again. It’s been way too long since I’ve done that (however, if I don’t manage to get a piano, I won’t count it as a fail, but will leave this goal for 2024, since I don’t know if I’ll be in the position to get a piano this year)

And I think that was it! See you again next year!

Last year's post: (x)

[ataritouchme]

today (12/11) would have been nina’s 24th birthday. to my friends and longtime mutuals she needs no introduction. so iykyk.

the weirdly uniquely frequent dreams about her stopped for a while after she died but they eventually came back, albeit less frequent. shes the only real person from my life that i regularly have dreams about. i dont have dreams about family members or friends or even my husband. i never have. she is the one weird exception.

i promised i’d be there when she needed me even after it was clear she hated my guts. but i was a pussy and a coward and ashamed and afraid so when she called me a week before she took her life i chose not to answer. i held my phone in my hand and timidly waited for it to stop ringing and for the call to go to voicemail. she did leave a message. i didnt call back. i should have. i had no way of knowing it would be my last chance to talk to her but even if it hadnt been it still would have been the least i could have done. i wouldnt have stopped whatever plans she already had but i should have been there and held up my end of the bargain.

through it all and long after we were broken up with zero chance of ever being in each others lives again she remained a constant presence even if it was a fucked up presence. i don’t know why i didnt ever consider things might end up the way they did. the fact that she still shows up in my dreams must mean something right? maybe thats just my ego but i sincerely believe it isn’t.

i was there to watch everyone in her life let her down and hurt her and when it came down to it i did the same thing. i was another piece of evidence that she had no one but herself even after her Self was more or less completely gone. the choices i made during our relationship that led to her rightly dumping me and exiting my life i accept fulll responsibility for and i have made peace with them. everything that came after is the shit that really hurts. i wasnt allowed or able to try and help her because she wanted nothing to do with me for so long. i really wanted to do something to help especially right after we broke up and her mental health clearly had begun to severely deteriorate, but the people around her at the time made it clear that wouldnt be possible and as frustrating as that was i did eventually accept it as like.. well, fair enough. but later when she reached out to me on her own terms i chose to let her down again.

suicide is touchy to talk about because you always want to give the victim humanity and agency and making it about yourself is a bad look especially in this specific situation given mine and nina’s history. but in the end when someone kills themselves the only people left to try and understand what happened are the people who are alive… so everyone except the victim. so some weird and maybe arrogant conclusions i think are probably unavoidable. natural even. so i will admit that for many reasons i feel responsible for her death.

and i dont mean because i didn’t answer her random phone call… at least not entirely, because like i said i know that even if i had answered or called back i wouldnt have stopped her or changed her mind about anything she planned to do. i knew that girl too well to think i could have stopped her from doing anything she’d made up her mind to do. that was probably beyond anybody’s ability.

i think many people failed her but so many things still make me believe i set her down her ultimate path to destruction and death. and i dont feel the need to like try and Not feel that way or whatever. it is one of if not the single deepest regret of my life thus far but it just feels like something so undeniably true that trying to not believe it anymore would feel like denying reality. despite the changes we both went through in the years we didnt speak or the time she was not herself despite everything i still knew her. i know she always knew i was a kind of home. thats why she would still reach out every so often even if it was to say insane things to me from prepaid phone numbers. because why else would she do that if not because for whatever reason i was on her mind sometimes? that is why im sure it was all that much worse when i did end up breaking her heart. she was a strong woman. she was self made. she really had nothing and nobody but herself and it fucked her up but she tried her best anyway always. i can’t imagine the pain she went through. if i had to guess she probably suffered that pain her entire life.

maybe this is cringe and selfcentered but ultimately the thing i regret most about not answering the phone that day is the fact she had not heard my voice in years. i heard hers many times from like voicemail messages she’d leave me and stuff but other than that i only ever communicated with her via text post-breakup. i wonder if that was something she wanted. i dont know why she called. i guess it doesn’t matter.

the day i found out she had killed herself the first person i called was my dad. he also had a formative first love kind of girlfriend kill herself so i figured he’d understand how i felt the best. i was in my car in the office depot parking lot just trying to process it all. i told my dad i wished i had been better to her. he understood but he told me that from what he saw of her and knew of her life he believed our time together was probably the brightest spot in her life. i was selfish in so many ways but i did whatever i could for her to make sure she was safe and cared for while we were together. i dont know much about her life and relationships after we broke up but i hope my dad was right about our relationship being a bright spot in her otherwise rocky life. i want to believe i did some things right when i had the power to do anything for someone i loved very much.

i hope wherever she is now she is free. i like to think so, because the dreams are infrequent now and i rarely if ever see ghosts of her anymore. i dont know what happens after we die but i hope she found peace somewhere, either in her final moments on earth or in whatever comes after.

god, even years later my feelings are so fucking complicated. she was a beautiful artist, probably the greatest and definitely truest one i’ve ever known. she was a strong person but her heart was tender. it would be insane to expect her to cope without good consistent support forever. and even if she had that, it would have been Very optimistic to have expected her to ever fully heal. i’m sorry for everything she went through… the things i am at fault for, the things her family and others were at fault for, and the things that were no ones fault.

i know she did her time in hell already so i hope wherever she is now is more like heaven even if it is just nonexistence or some kind of energy or even reincarnation as something or somebody new somewhere else. i know her spirit will haunt me forever even if its not in a literal physical sense anymore. if souls are real i feel like hers has crossed over by now. but i think i will probably be 99 years old and still have dreams about her. whatever the case, rest easy nina. and happy birthday.

[keamyeon]

2 things in 2 decades

i think i used to be a dreamer. as a little kid, i was so ambitious. i wanted to be the impossible. when puberty hit me, i unconsciously and drastically changed myself that i became the most awkward, lazy-eyed teenager that you'll ever know. one might wonder, what happened?

now that i'm older, i realized what made me downgrade so hard. it's because of the reality that: nobody cares.

people will say they do, and maybe they genuinely do, and i'm not trying to invalidate that, but here's the thing: the world doesn't revolve around you. people say you're the main character of your story? that's a bunch of bullshit. you're not.

remember: whatever you do - nobody. cares.

now, that may come as good or bad... or good and bad. take that as what you will. whether it's "nobody cares... so i don't have to pay attention whatever other people say". or "nobody cares... whatever i do, no one is going out of there way to fully understand me", it's both true. i'll be a broken record at this point because the botttomline is nobody cares.

i also realized another thing - but it's more of a personal, objective observation. this is something that is only unique to me and me only. and it's that i'm weak.

whoever says i'm strong is lying - i'm not! and i bet you can see right through me. the fact that i'm getting up every morning, trying the best that i can is not because i'm strong. it's a completely different story, in fact. how i look at life and how i approach it is different from knowing what i am.

but that's just what it is. i'm weak. not just physically weak. i'm mentally weak. i'm everything weak. i can't hold a proper conversation. i can't do basic shit. i can't handle stress properly. i can't be normal. and i'm not good at anything.

being interested in something doesn't equate to being good at it. and i swear.. i swear... please believe me. i'm trying my best. if you see me easily tired, it's not because i'm lazy or holding myself back, i literally can't. i claim to be creative but fail to contribute ideas. i don't know what's wrong with me.

i see other people also having a hard time, and i know that's so difficult for each person, but when they do their best and push themselves, they create something good and progress. when i do the same, i end up still with something shitty. i fail with flying colors.

i see myself as a realistic, positive person. this doesn't mean i will give up. i believe in these facts, because at the same time, accepting them as something true means that i'm accepting myself. it sucks, i'm telling you, but i don't want to be that bitch too.

i'm weak and nobody cares about me. it's not good at all, and it's not bearable at all. but that helps me become kinder to myself in its own weird way and make me become considerate towards myself when i take a -9938 baby step.

[quillheel]

How do they react to scares or frights? Do they laugh, get nervous, or not react at all? (Harry)

HALLOWEEN QUESTIONS // always accepting!

Harry most often has a myriad of responses to being scared, but the most often ones he has are;

a) laughing! it's a coping mechanism mostly stemming from the more social ━ and logical ━ sections of his brain. He laughs when he doesn't know what to do, or understands that whatever response that something was supposed to illicit simply didn't happen, or is just flat-out confused! it initially came from the idea that, well, if you're already laughing, you're in on the joke; Harry was always the joke, so being the first to laugh at himself, at least for a while, made the ridiculous feel intentional, as though even he was having a 'i can't believe i just did that' moment, even if the cause was entirely unintentional or from something that's just part of him but he knew wasn't socially 'normal' ( a good example is how autistic people, including myself, might laugh at themselves when they've done something that neurotypical people find strange. Definitely not the healthiest, but a very rare few things he does are! )

with laughter as a response to being afraid, it can be from the social point of 'hes supposed to experience one thing and hes not, therefore: laugh', but most often its from an incongruous emotion in of itself ( an emotion in a situation that doesn't necessarily call for it, like laughing as someone's crying, which is often perceived as a result socially as 'not making sense' ) or straight-up just finding the failed scare attempt funny! like watching an actor fuck something up in their take, yknow? sometimes its a shield from the fact he got spooked in the first place, making it nervous laughter to calm himself down, which leads into...

b) flinching! This is the more sincere out of the two, where the scare actually lands to some extent moreso. Harry, almost ALWAYS, responds to just about everything. his composure may mask it, but he is, at all times, answering and responding to and calculating just about everything. this often feeds into his Already pretty bad paranoia ( Imperial Empire, you're doing your best but alas you oft freak him out more than anything actually threatening him... ) and bodily responses to traumas he no longer remembers, things the skills keep from him; huddled in blankets citing its better not to know than to know at all, to make choices of what to do with the pearls of something terrible coddled in those clothes of neurons and grey-matter ━ or, at least, that's how it feels. like keeping secrets.

this means, even in false strikes and in fake-outs, there are things to respond to. even if he already knows the threat isn't real, and even isn't very scared of it at all, the overwhelming sensation of that abrupt happening can make him recoil, half overwhelmed, half new information, always tied to the impulse. be it by physically flinching back, violently lunging forward, parts of his mind surging to answer, or his mind going dead for juuust a moment ━ like the moment the rock breaches the lake's surface ━ then it ripples out again, the latter; a feeling he often finds himself craving to recreate. the impact felt but faux nonetheless. at the end of the day; it invokes a survival response him, and for a split second it's like a millisecond, high saturation dream of watching reality burn alive before reverting to how he knew it like the colors of a broken camera. a microbomb of trauma re-firing, before going dead again.

( Though, if the scare in question has anything to do with touching him, you can bet your bottom dollar that he's going to start swinging )

overall, though, what he does exactly highly depends on what specifically the scare is, how it's performed, the medium ( is it a movie, is it a coworker trying to scare him, is it in his home, is it in the office, how has he mentally been doing overall himself lately, etc etc ) and so on! it's extremely conditional, including whether or not he get's scared in the first place! some days he's untouchable, other days he jumps at everything! depending on what it is and how it's done, harry's responses can ENTIRELY change! it's his nature to be inconsistent and unpredictable, in a way.

he IS however a big horror fan, especially gore since it taps into an animalistic sense in his head kinda that Half Light really digs especially, as well as his creative sense to see how they did it! plus something could 100000% be said about desensitizing himself from terrible things given his job is seeing terrible things a lot of the time. ━ sometimes he's a fan despite himself, given he sometimes uses horror as a 'safe' method to punish himself with triggers or generally invoking a fear/disgust response at all or fucking up his paranoia which bleeds back into his age-old problem of self flagellation and self-loathing, which also ties into his desensitization thing, but that aside, he sincerely does enjoy horror in general!!! I personally like to think he and Jean used to watch horror marathons together during October and November, depending on what they could get their hands on, though Harry doesn't remember this.

this is only tapping into the 'non-harmful scares', though! things like horror movies or the like. his response to genuine threats are overwhelmed with his mind clicking together like the joints of a machine with one goal; to keep him alive.

it's done a surprisingly good job thus far, given how difficult he makes it.

[taeyungie]

em, well.. he called me today. the irony of it all is apparently when i was talking w/ that 1 guy after my ex years ago, i only told him cus he asked me out & i apparently said he didnt need to know that stuff and i dont remember ever saying that but he said he was hurt/caught off guard & therefore never shared any of his personal relations with me. i think i blacked those yrs out. i went thru a very bad & messy breakup and wanted a distraction, i don't remember him ever asking me out then but he said he remembered very well. i feel so fucking stupid. this basically all happened bc of me. and u were right, he said he /always/ had those feelings even after my ex but i felt they weren't there... so i never attempted anything until i built up our relationship again which is how it is now. but, the real kicker is.. i told him that i didnt want to be put in a position where if he was serious about me, that he'd talk to other ppl, but he said im basically asking for commitment and he cant give that to me unless i show that i'm willing to let him come see me or vice versa (which i just need more time for), until then, he's not going to tell me if he's messing with anyone but he said if things do get serious with someone, then he'll let me know to not lead me on. thats not what i wanted to hear. basically he's open to whatever happens with whoever, even if he cares deeply about me, but he cant promise to not talk to other ppl and i know its selfish, i just wanted him to wait for me, esp after all this time with trying and failing with wrong timings. the way he said "IF i get into a relationship, i'll tell u" gets me cause i'll only know if he makes it official, he said thats how its gonna be. and i honestly feel like i'll end up pushing him away cus the reality of that being possible hurts too much. he said he'll just have to accept it then. but even after talking i still feel as lost. i feel sad, ashamed i said those things i truly don't remember. but now i'm confused with my feelings. i know this is going to change everything. i can already feel myself wanting to pull away emotionally & put the guard i barely let down back up 😣

i am sorry sunshine :( but i'm really happy that you guys had the talk, you need to stay in contact with him no matter what, the silence can be the worst thing to do right now, so please try your best not to become closed off. the fact that you're both so hurt by this situation is so visible, my heart is breaking. although i really do understand both of you, and he is clear about what he expects and it's in your hands to decide what to do with it 🥺 you know... you have to understand that he is just trying to be happy too, just like we all do. it doesn't mean he only cares about himself, he was there for you through the bad times and he did wait for you, honey, but the thing happened years ago and he might be just tired of waiting, he just wants to find happiness and love too... i'm pretty sure he's probably just as hurt and confused by this situation as you are, but he cares about you and he wants to be with you, but maybe he cannot handle long-distance relationship, maybe he is tired of waiting, maybe there are other reasons he doesn't want to share because it's hurting him too much at this point, yeah? he probably started closing up on you because of that as well, that's why he stated his feelings in such harsh way. he probably doesn't mean to hurt you at all, he is just trying to protect himself.

so please, don't get me wrong, i may not be giving you the best advice or making you feel better which i'm really sorry for :( but i want to stay objective because the situation is tough, and help you understand how to deal with it, to look at your situation in a different light. I'm trying to guess what can be the issue and what you guys are going through, nothing I say is 100% right because I don't know the exact details and I will never know how exactly each of you is feeling. but what i know for sure is that one can stay strong for long enough, sweetheart :(

i understand that you might have blocked out the memories because of traumatic past and that is completely valid and I'm really sorry for what you went through, you deserve the best of love and care :( it's something he should be understanding about especially that he asked you out when you were still in pain, you probably weren't ready for something serious and i will allow myself to guess the guy you talked with was not considered as something you were serious about, right? you probably hoped for it, looked for it, but deep inside you probably might've been looking for a distraction, something to make you feel better, right? and since he was your best friend it was a different situation, although he probably chose to ask in a bad moment, he shouldn't blame you entirely for that and now act like it's all your fault, but i also understand why he was caught off guard and hurt by that, he was angry and jealous, he wanted to be with you and realizing you didn't choose him was probably very painful, although now he might feel like you realized you have feelings for him because you have no other options, and he wants you a strong and secure feeling from you to feel safe in it, but please don't get upset with my words, let me tell you something first, love.

Let me tell you a story, I myself also went through a similar thing and i also had to deny my best friend a long time ago, because of other reasons but one of the main ones was long distance, i never loved him but i cared for him that's another difference because your friend actually HAS feelings for you, but i know how my friend has felt when i kept explaining him why we can't be together, it made me feel terrible. yet, his feelings for me didn't lessen apparently, and to this day, sometimes, he still implies that his crush on me never went away. but in the meantime he was in many other relationships, serious ones and purely physical ones, while also not telling me much, i probably don't know about a lot but it's his life and not my business - my point is that, he also tried to be happy even while still actively hoping i would give him a chance, because he cares for me more than he does for the people he dated (but again in my story it didn't affect me because i never loved him that way). now picture yourself in our situation, he actually does love you but you guys can't be together right now because of some reasons, and he probably isn't feeling confident about your feelings for him because of the past events, which is why he asks you for "100% yes" or "100% no" right now. unless you give him an answer he waited for for a long time, he has the right to try and look for happiness elsewhere and not involve you in it, he might not be comfortable with sharing that he is having flings with others with someone he actually loves, simply because he doesn't want to hurt you, but it's just natural that he is looking for distractions, he is not looking for someone to replace you but he's also clearly not sure of your feelings for him, do you know what i mean now? he doesn't want the past to repeat, when he already waited for a long time, maybe tried to move on even. i know you don't want him to treat you like a 2nd choice and what i just said might look exactly like he's doing it but i personally don't see it that way, that REALLY is not the case, in my opinion it's the opposite and you are clearly his 1st choice, from what i deducted he also just told you that, but since you were/are out of reach he is trying to find other ways, even if it hurts him that they're not you.

don't close your heart up on him, honey. i know you're anxious and in pain, just try to understand his position, alright? you're both hurting a lot but you care for each other deeply and misunderstanding is not something that should be an obstacle, so please, the only way out of it is to talk to each other and be honest. maybe you could consider making some sacrifices to defeat things that stay in your way of saying "yes" , if relationship with him is something you truly want?