#before he got tadpoled he would just mentally shut down

[esterigermaine]

Headcanon:

When Astarion is in severe pain, you have a 50/50 chance of him becoming absolutely feral or completely mentally shutting down.

[meyousing]

𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥, 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤; 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

FOR MY POOKIEWOOKIE @moongreenlight !! who i adore sososo much I HOPE U ENJOY !! 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: after realizing what raphael could do for you before; ridding your mind of the emperor for the briefest moment, you wanted to know how that could feel for a second time, no matter the cost. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: -> sneaky HUMAN raphael, non-con, deception and lies its raphael what else did you expect. probably a little ooc since this is for pookie so fk canon :D. as always all sexual nsfw will be under the cut!

I'm walking, you've been hiding,

And you look half-dead half the time.

Monitoring you, like machines do,

You've still got it, I'm just keeping an eye

You told yourself that you’d do anything for answers, that the cost didn’t matter–you wanted a solution, a cure to your tadpole infliction, and despite knowing better than to trust a devil, you were growing hopeless and running low on any other options. Yes, you knew the magic that Halsin told you about, the same words later spoken by the Emperor; their proclamation of impossibility regarding the worm’s extraction no matter which method you attempted, from whomever. But there was one time, and only one, when you remembered what mental quietude could sound like amidst such circumstances.

So, veiled by the darkness of the night sky en route, you navigated through Sharess’ Caress to the upper floors, intent on finding Raphael–even though he was hardly the paragon of trust–and experiencing solace in silence once again, something that, unfortunately, only he could provide. Gale was always going on about the benefits of respite, and this one you craved like a drug, now that you could remember how solitude felt after so long without it. What a crime to wish for independence within one’s own mind these days. 

You didn’t bother knocking, he likely sensed you at some point or another on your way here, what with his attentiveness to you and all that implied your involvement. You didn’t care about being the intrusive one for once, careening the door open and briskly sending it shut behind you.

“Surely you didn’t think that little disguise would work?”

“It wasn’t meant for you.” You tugged your hood down easily and shrugged the rest of your cloak off, balling it up and tossing it aside carelessly. You spotted Raphael standing a few feet away, in the first doorway of the den, his back to you. Yet he knew what you were wearing. 

He turned and lifted a brow at you, but the rest of his expression showed obvious disinterest in speaking about this any further than the short exchange. 

“Have you come to make the right choice?”

“Bold assumption,” you said quickly, not yet ready to fully admit why you sought him out in your situation; in the dark, on your own. “Shouldn’t you ask why I’m here first?”

“All I needed was a look at you to know.”

You didn’t respond, and he grinned, his lids low as he watched you.

“But I’ll let you tell me anyway, I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun. What troubles you, little mouse? What is it that’s brought you right into the cat’s paw?” he approached slowly, hands interlocked behind him as he subtly looked you up and down–knowingly–like you were the subject of an experiment. That wasn’t entirely wrong. 

“I want you to do… whatever you did for me before, again.” You kept your eyes on him, speaking somewhat hesitant but remaining strong in your stance, your gaze unwavering. You noted the way he subtly mouthed along when you spoke the word ‘again’, tauntingly, like he already had you figured out. Perhaps he did. 

“You don’t mean this?” He murmured, and with a snap of his fingers, your mind was yours again; that insistent, idle static now fizzled out. 

Your eyes widened, brows uplifting alongside your lips as you nodded; it was just like the last time, pure silence aside from your own little conscience as it came to the same giddy realization that it was alone once more. Raphael only chuckled, and after a too-short moment, your mind was back to its newly but usually muddled state. The Emperor had nothing to say yet, which you were grateful for, as it saved you the need to seek an excuse for his inability to communicate with you in a second instance that shouldn’t have been possible the first time around.  

“Are you expecting me to do you a favour like that for nothing?” he laughed dryly, mockingly; it made you feel like the vermin that was about to be squashed beneath a dirty boot sole. “You may be the brightest, most shimmering jewel in my crown, but something so deliciously close to free will in a time like this cannot come without charge. What’s more, it is most costly when one chooses selfishness over the common good.” 

You should have expected this. You must’ve known deep down that it wouldn’t be so easy, that Raphael wouldn’t be a one-time good samaritan–a saint–and do you this favour, even in spite of all the honeyed names that’d roll off of his tongue when he sought you out, making it seem as though you were a little more special than his usual clientele. Stepping forward with a frown, you scoffed:

“How am I being selfish?” Was he just toying with you for his entertainment now? You hadn’t been here for long, but the trip would be cut off even sooner if this continued. You craved relief, but not enough to get tangled up in the deep end with a devil, to a point of no return.  

“Why do you deserve the fix before anyone else? Do you think I’m a good-willed cleric made to provide relief to all those with your affliction?” Despite how incredulously he spoke, you could tell now that he was merely testing you. Testing you for what exactly, you couldn’t tell; your will, your determination?

“Who are you to be the dictator of right and wrong?” you countered him with a question of your own, stepping up closer once he stopped in his tracks. He hardly raised his brows in his fullest reaction to your bravery, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. 

“I’m not. But I’m the only one who can provide a moment of respite to you, and I don’t work for free. Is that not fair? You are asking for quite a privilege.” He smirked like he knew what you would say next.

“You’ve already done it for me once before, what makes it different now? It’s temporary anyway, is it not? Am I wrong?”

“It is. But last time was just a… sample if you will. For a second taste, a true dealing between us, you’ll need to do something for me too.”

You grimaced, and he looked too pleased with himself. You’d managed to avoid getting involved with him this far along, rejecting most ultimatums he offered, and you’d been fine without his assistance–or obstacles, rather. Yet now, something initiated completely of your own accord was creating a conflict that you could’ve avoided if not for your greed and its insistence; you weren’t done yet.

“Fine” you conceded, rather quickly too. His smirk widened, he looked so smug.

“Good, good” he purred. You blinked a few times, your body having an unexpected reaction to the bassy sound as you averted your gaze, refusing to recognize it.

“What do you want from me, then?” you mumbled.

“What do you think I would like from you–my dearest–” he drew out, “in exchange for my services?” He tilted his head, and he seemed a lot closer than you last remembered. He was much more visible in your periphery even as you forced your eyes aside. Were you supposed to answer that question and know what to say, what he wanted?

“I-I don’t know. Do you want me to take the deal with you and promise you the cro–actually, no, that is way too much in exchange for a few minutes of sile–”

“No” he cut you off sharply, his expression falling flat. “That, I can wait for. Your choice will be even sweeter to hear the longer you hold out on me. But considering our current circumstances…” he trailed off, and when you didn’t look at him during that pause, you felt hands slide up your waist. 

You blinked at the same time that your body jolted–a millisecond–and your surroundings changed. You still stood in Raphael’s grasp, just before the dining hall’s grand table within the House of Hope. Your eyes darted around warily, but you still felt an odd sense of… calm. Raphael, so tenderly that your heart thrummed a little off-beat, slid his fingers up your body and down your arms, grasping your wrists as he led you to one of the seats; facing the flames that so ironically burned in the fireplace. He walked slowly, dare you say methodically, striding to take a spot across from you.

"Indulge yourself” he muttered, looking utterly observant. He placed his chin atop his hands, fingers interlocked into a fist. He didn’t touch the food, but you expected as much.

“I’d rather not” you garbled, your gaze careful while you studied him and tried not to overreact, still settling into the new environment. You didn’t have an appetite per se, not for the deceptive refreshments that were too perfectly laid out before you anyway. Raphael may have been worming his way into your routine so often, just like the godsdamned tadpole itself, but his presence lingering for so long didn’t equate to trust yet. 

“Then indulge me.”

You watched him reach for and open a bottle of wine, one you didn’t recognize as common among those you’d scraped together from wooden boxes and crates on your way to the gate. It looked more prestigious, the bottle was embellished with what you could only assume to be real gold melted within the glass, and it caught the light so intriguingly each time he tilted it to pour some out; a drink for him, a drink for you. You looked away when he stood and took the chalices in his hands, placing one before you and promptly returning to his seat. When you looked to him again he had elevated the goblet in his hand, his chin lifting.

“To a new era.”

Your fingers approached the table, tips dancing towards the stoup’s base, the entirety of which could have been crafted by Gond and polished by Moradin. You wondered, despite how aged everything throughout the House was by the natural processes of time; cracked tile, buffered but helplessly dull stone… the stemware looked so new; untouched. He didn’t save it just for you, surely? Flitting your eyes back to Raphael as you thought about it, you noted how he finished taking a slow sip, lowering his cup back to the tablecloth. You couldn’t stop yourself from watching his tongue dart out to get some more of the taste, from what lingered on his lips. He noted your longer-than-usual silence, and those same lips turned up. 

“Your insistence, or stubbornness, rather, is very endearing in more… suitable circumstances. For once, you should try to act less like the illithid you’re bound to become and let go of those inhibitions. Look where you are” His head swayed slightly to his left, to the room, fingers drumming mutely on the tabletop. 

The wine was tempting, and his taking a first sip did comfort you in some way. You spared him a final glance before zeroing in on your goblet, staring down the dark liquid inside, watching the warm candlelight rippling reflectively on its surface. Perhaps it couldn’t hurt to indulge just this once, you thought, as you took the cup into your hand.

Raphael nodded along, encouragingly. Uncharacteristically. 

You figured there was no harm in it, especially if he was as fond of you as he claimed, then he wouldn’t want you to meet a preemptive demise. Not yet. 

You bit the bullet, raising the chilled gold to your lips. You did feel rather parched, and the substance slid down your throat so smoothly, so soothingly.  

“You know, I poisoned one of our goblets.” 

Exhaustion was sent over you like a wave, and not because of the poison immediately having an effect–had it been your substance that was tampered with–but because of course he did. You sighed, your eyes falling closed to console that Raphael-induced fatigue. 

“Gods, I hope it’s mine,” you muttered beneath your breath.

He let out what you may have heard as, amidst all of your quarrels, his first genuine laugh. His face was delighted as he shook his head. 

“Are you so displeased at the prospect of dining with me?” he leaned back in his seat, grinning and crossing a leg over the other. Getting comfortable. Settling in. You were tense in opposition, knees tight together as you kept yourself at the edge of your chair.  

“This clearly isn’t all that you want from me, Raphael. Either get on with it, or let the toxins do their job and let me off easy” You put the goblet down, pushing it forward and away as you inhaled sharply, now on higher alert considering the circumstances. 

“It’s only a bit of fun. The dose isn’t lethal, I couldn’t rid Faerûn of such a treasure in that crude of a way.”

At least you were right about that. 

Raphael said nothing else as he took in your silence, and his expression didn’t say much either. He stood slowly, his eyes remaining on you as he dragged his fingers along the tabletop until he landed at your side.

“If you’d like to experience mental solitude again, then I’ll only ask for one, small thing from you.”

You certainly felt a touch drowsier than before, your limbs a little more numb and tingly, like they had fallen asleep on you in a too-short duration. You turned your head to look up at him, and even at a neutral pace, the motion made you nauseous. You let out a soft groan of displeasure, closing your eyes and moving to drop your head down. Raphael caught your chin and forced your eyes to remain on him, his voice barely above a whisper as he proposed: 

“Solitude, for a kiss.”

“The least isolating ask,” you muttered bitterly, eyelids heavy as the sight of him became a degree blurrier than what you knew as typical. Yet you could still make out his smirk, and he leaned closer.

“But not a very weighted one. Don’t you miss being able to think without the added badgering of the Emperor’s two cents?” 

Truthfully, you did, if this last-resort decision wasn’t enough of an indicator. A kiss also wasn’t a huge deal, but Raphael was the cambion equivalent to the poison coursing through your veins. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but you also weren’t in much of a position to deny him. Would you even be able to enjoy the seclusion if this didn’t wear off after he did this favour?

“That’s really all you want?”

“It is. Perhaps if you wished for something more permanent it would be a different story, but alas. It doesn’t need to be written contractually either, nothing so serious.”

“Fine, then.” 

You chose to take the initiative, the leap of faith, pressing your weight into the armrests of the chair so you could stand up and lean in. Your resistance was, helplessly, nonexistent when Raphael pushed you back down; the side effect of his poison making it too easy.

He grabbed your jaw, fingers firm but the motion gentle as he turned your face towards his. Your eyes were already half-closed, but you didn’t miss the intensity on his features. He hovered over you, his mere presence so imposing as he kept you right where he wanted; under his thumb. He moved closer until his cupid’s bow brushed over yours, ever-so-tender, so close yet so far. Your heart nearly skipped a beat once he tilted his head a little further, his lips parting in the slightest as they touched yours, but it wasn’t yet a kiss. Yes, you had expected him to draw this out considering the circumstances of the required affection pertaining to a deal, but what you hadn’t expected was your subsequent anticipation and eventual impatience. 

“Just do it–” you managed to murmur out against his mouth, some natural venom lacing the words without the help of the poison. You were surprised that he closed the gap properly right after by pulling your head up to him, his fingertips pressing deeper into your cheeks as he did, fingernails scraping the thin skin. 

He kissed you hard but without much aggression. You were taken aback by his normalcy, but it appeared that he was just getting started, as he soon used the leverage of his hand on your face to bring you to your feet. You winced, the motion pulled at your neck, but you weren’t given time to dwell on it when he jerked you to the table and tore his lips from yours. 

“Not going to put up a fight? How unlike you” he smirked. You could only glare at him because if he wasn’t sharp enough to nullify any resistance efforts, you both knew who would be pinned down right now. He chuckled once, appraisingly, before pushing his body into you again, his lips finding your neck instead. 

He started with nipping at the skin, then tasting it with a languid lick that made you squirm, and moving to hold your hands down against the table–as if you’d be able to move them on your own anyway. 

“More than a kiss–” you managed to state, your voice containing a hint of matter-of-factness, but was a little raspier as his closeness certainly affected your fortitude. 

“You knew better” was all he had to respond with, the words muffled as they were kissed into the horripilation on your skin. He remained content here for a while, bringing a finger up to your jaw to turn your head in the opposite direction of where he had already ridden your skin with his lips and hot saliva; making you shiver when the wetness caught the air and consequently cooled, regardless of how hot it was in the hells and logically shouldn’t have been possible. 

You were equivalent to a ragdoll by now, simply letting it happen when he grabbed your arms and flipped you around, your loose-limbed body immediately tipping over so your front was flat against the table; your hips perfectly positioned for your ass to press into his hips. He laughed and didn’t even try to create space, pressing himself into you so you could feel how hard he was, and it made you grimace at the realization of just how far this was going to go.

“You’re the only person worth this,” he breathed, his fingers snaking up to wrap around the column of your neck and force your head up. “The only one who deserves to experience this privilege.”

Unable to suppress your snicker when he said that, you almost whined aloud when his fingers tightened in response, and began rutting his hips into you steadily but with enough force to shift your body against the tabletop each time, your shirt getting caught up in the tablecloth and pushing it up so the cool surface touching your heated flesh made you tremble. The strong scents of all the lavish foods surrounding your immediate proximity almost drowned out Raphael’s scent, but it wasn’t enough, especially not as he leaned down so his front was against you completely, his face next to yours. 

“So amusing, is it?” he rumbled, subtly bringing his free hand up the side of your limp thigh, finding your hip, and reaching to tug at your panties. You couldn’t even feel shock anymore, simply letting out a strained exhale the material shifted when he slid it down your skin; off. “We’ll see for how much longer you feel that way.”

How much had you missed within those few seconds, to be surprised when he was already playing with his cock against your entrance? You felt a lot hotter then, your skin crawling with pleasure-induced chills as he moved his tip slowly, heavily up and down, prodding so slightly into your warmth and making your muscles tense each time he slid it away and down to your clit. He never lingered against one spot or the other long enough for any long-term sensations to last, and you couldn’t stop yourself from releasing a disgruntled groan. His chuckle reverberated through you, making your breaths shake as they became increasingly rapid. 

“I wonder if any of your devotees across the realms know that you can be reduced to this–if they think about it,” he pressed the tip of his cock into you now, making your hastened breaths hitch, your lungs burn, “if they imagine you beneath them, or maybe even above them–but you only deserve to be here,” he pushed his hips forward and slid in deeper, with ease, the motion so precise it made your thighs twitch, “beneath me.”

He set a slower rhythm to start, but the way that his movements bumped you further into the table each time made it so that you could feel all of him so perfectly. You felt so open, so exposed–

“Y-You seriously want to do this right here?” you whispered, only because your voice was so strained under his palm, and his cheek went taut in a grin next to you.

“My bed is still busy being warmed, this will do for now. You deserve better than mediocre; the real thing, not my copy. Feel fortunate” he sighed, pressing deeply into you for a moment and staying there, enjoying you, nearly pushing into your cervix–distracting you from the tongue-in-cheek response you wished to give to his words. You instinctively squirmed away, the intensity of it being too much too quickly with how teasingly he had been going thus far. But he wasn’t having any of your resistance despite how it was impulsive and not of your volition; pushing his body down heavier upon yours until you were trapped entirely, forced to take what he gave. Then he resumed movement, and he was moving faster now. 

You fisted the tablecloth before you with the weakest grip; the strongest you could muster, physically fighting every part of yourself so as to not give into him too quickly by carelessly moaning out and letting him know that he was actually making you feel something good. It didn’t matter though. Hoarse, uncontrollable whines vibrated in your throat, locked behind your canines as they sunk into your bottom lip in a further attempt at deceiving him. You were shocked that somehow, throughout the numbness in the rest of your body, each stroke and deep tingle of pleasure could be felt in its most intense form. You continued to amuse him, making him laugh as if this were something wholesome and wholly reciprocated. 

“What do you hear?” he whispered to you, the closeness and low volume of his voice making you writhe, igniting prickles of delight inside of you, making your pussy squeeze around him and pull him in deeper; even shocking yourself as your jaw dropped open from the sensation. All that you could audibly make out were your breaths and his, accompanied by the slick sound of his cock pistoning in and out of you with ease by how wet he made you in such a short time. 

“Just you–” you lied, “–mumbling in my fucking ear,” you tried to chuckle, but when the hand that wasn’t on your neck squeezed your hip tightly enough for you to actually feel it amidst all of the numbness, you gasped quietly, the dry laugh devolving into a whimper. 

“You shouldn’t hear anything,” he said slowly, but in a tone that was maybe one pitch higher than normal, like he was concluding another one of his awful riddles. You’d have taken time to cringe if he hadn’t grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you up at the same time that he moved, pulling you flush against him and continuing to fuck you like you were nothing more than a toy fulfilling its purpose. 

He favoured intensity over speed, ensuring that you couldn’t escape him as his cock never fully left your sex; only sliding back to quickly grind deeply inside once more, making you see stars each time–you didn’t care about whatever else he had to mumble to you now, all you cared about was engrossing yourself in the feeling of him. It made your stomach churn deliciously too, and that familiar warmth of finality was beginning to stir within as he bit down on your neck, sliding his fingers out of the way so he could hold you still by a shoulder. If your body wasn’t essentially dead you’d have regretfully reached back to hold onto him for support, grasping at the material of his intricately designed garments which would probably irritate him; perhaps your situational debilitation was for the better. 

“You’re not about to come for me, are you? Tut tut” he purred, and you couldn’t discern whether the way your eyes rolled was from annoyance or pleasure. Despite the degradation he didn’t relent, encouraging you above all else. His body encapsulated yours as he held you how he liked, keeping your back arched just slightly enough for your hips to perch nicely off of him as he pounded into you; had you seeing stars. “Don’t keep me waiting, then~”

When a sneaky hand left your shoulder and made its way to your front, pinching your clit, you came undone with a sharp whine; you could barely feel the way your thighs clenched, tightening alongside your pussy as you ground back into him to experience the sensation in its fullest, whimpering his name so weakly as your head lulled back to rest against his chest. You hardly caught the sight of him smirking down at you, so self-satisfied as his hand in your hair tightened, and only a smidge of embarrassment crept into your overall feelings of elation because you knew that he had every reason to feel that way. 

Soon enough the waves of bliss calmed, to your dismay, and Raphael pulled out of you with a soft groan, releasing your body carelessly and stepping back out of your sight, making you rush to reach out and have your palms land against the table rather than your face. 

As you turned around slowly and panted to catch your breath, you watched while he adjusted what minimal undressing he’d partaken in, and only then did you notice the feeling of something wet and thick sliding down the inside of your thigh. You looked down, your eyes widening a bit as you rushed to pull your panties back up to be rid of the sight of it; when did he cum?? You also wondered about how much control he must’ve had over the poison as you could feel the toxins wearing off now that it was all over; the ability to perceive and to touch returning to your body again, albeit weakly. 

“Good, don’t let my gift go to waste. So intuitive.”

You shuddered in disgust and swallowed the lump in your throat, ignoring his stupid, contented face and even happier statement. Now that you were approaching a state where you held a semblance of control again, you cleared your throat and redressed fully, smoothing over your clothes and standing taller after giving a quick shake of your head. 

“Okay–you got what you wanted, give me my end of the deal now.”

Raphael grinned, his brows lifting in feigned surprise.

“Oh, darling, that was it. Couldn’t you tell? Surely you didn’t want your dearest Emperor to know about our fornication?”

You stood there, stunned, slowly but surely feeling hot rage seep into your bones. No fucking way was he being serious.

“Bullshit.”

He laughed at you in a falsely taken-aback way, even raising a ridiculous hand to his chest.

“That’s no way for a lady such as yourself to speak–you chose to jest when I asked what you could hear, that was your chance to tune in and tell. Regardless, we both fulfilled our ends of the bargain.”

“Oh that’s rich,” you started, not knowing what to do with your hands as they fidgeted at your sides, itching to reach up to him and–

“If you wish to experience this again, you know where to find me. Hopefully next time you’ll have come to a decision about the crown, too.” he chuckled in a muted way, to himself, like he was considering some inside joke that only he was part of, not you. Perhaps you were the joke to him, after doing something like this; surrendering to him. The thought made your face twist in anger and you began to approach him, your arms raising.

You only caught the split-second motion of his hand reaching out, and then… nothing. Moments of black, of unconsciousness… and then you were standing outside the den again. You lurched for the doorknob, tugging at it to no avail for the first time ever. After cursing aloud you hit the wood with your fists, letting out a long, deep sigh, shutting your eyes as you realized what a mistake this was to begin with. 

You turned shamefully after a few more seconds of basking in exhaustion, your feet heavy and still feeling abnormal to use after so much time spent being dead weight. You trudged along to the exit of the brothel, cloakless, having left it in Raphael’s room and now being forced to endure the rain that had started. At least it was still dark outside, and you could return to camp innocently beneath the moonlight; be unheard beyond the pattering of the condensation while everyone else rested, acting as though nothing had happened at all, that you’d been there all night. 

You kept your head down, blinking away the raindrops that slid from your hair and into your eyes. Only once you were alone, past the business outside of the Caress, that familiar bustling moved from the ambiance of the bordello to the innards of your brain, and a question was posed by the voice that’d been with you since the beginning of this life you had grown accustomed to:

“Where were you just now?”

© meyousing 2024. do not share/export my work onto any other platforms. do not translate my work.

[songbirdtales]

Devil Spawn (AstarionxTav)

As soon as the party returned to camp, Tav slipped away to the riverbank. They fell heavy onto a smoothed flat rock, curling over to rest their head in their hands as their willow whisp eyes stared blankly into the dark. A storm cloud rolled in the mind with memories and thoughts. The storm roared so loud it blocked their senses until a familiar voice tore them back to reality. 

“Tav?” A trace of worry came through in the furrow of Astarion’s brow. He’d come over with his typical chaotic glee but when they’d ignored him completely, well that was more than unusual. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah.” Their voice was muffled by their hands, rubbing their eyes and keeping their gaze down to avoid his own. 

“No fever? Er… What were the other tadpole symptoms?”

“No. Sorry I… am just thinking about today. The tea house, the hag…”

“The pregnant widow and her undead husband?” He asked with a snicker as he came closer, leaning against the rock beside where they sat. The long river rock made something of a shelf that seemed strong enough to support both of their weight, but Astarion wasn’t trying to be clingy.

There was no laugh in return, no smile, just a solemn “Aye… Hit a little too close to home.” With a deep breath Tav sat back, turning their head up to open their airway as the storm cloud in their mind attempted to suffocate them.

“Which part?” He joked, trying fruitlessly to lighten the mood. Astarion held his tongue as Tav’s gaze slowly came back to the river. He studied their blank expression but he couldn’t read them. Tav had shut down to keep the storm contained. It scared him to not be able to read them. That instinctual connection they’d shared the other night was absent, and not because of him. It felt like he’d lost some form of control, and he hated that.

Tav said nothing, so Astarian continued. “So, a tiefling witch who befriends orphans. Is that where you got your soft spot?” He mused to himself, trying to imagine her, Tav’s mother. At first he imagined an ugly old hag, but Tav was far from ugly. He quickly rearranged his mental image to be more of an older, mature, more feminine version of Tav. Just as he’d painted her in his mind the image would be shattered.

“My mother wasn’t a tiefling.” The storm waned and their voice softened. Focusing on the thought of her was grounding in an odd way, even if the pain of those memories simmered at the surface in the quiver of their eyes. “She couldn’t have children of her own, so she made a pact for the magic to do so.” Tav’s eyes glanced to Astarion, and for just a moment they caught his expression. That shocked stare, he almost looked horrified. He understood exactly what they were suggesting, what their mother had done to create...

His sanguine gaze flicked away for Tav in embarrassment. He’d been caught staring. He stumbled over his words, desperate to save face as the severity of their situation settled in. “So you- your father is- a…”

“Well,” They winced at the thought. “I don’t exactly know the technicals of… all that. What I know is that there is a devil who calls me blood and would very much like me in hell with him. I’d be willing to make a deal with him before Mizora, but even then he’s still a devil,” They tsked softly at the thought.. “And just like with hags and witches, ‘deals’ are never in your favor, even when they’re ‘family’.” Their smile didn’t return, but he could feel Tav ease as Astarion’s presence drew them back out. 

“I see… that explains why you were so angry with that insufferable druid. I thought you were going to tear her throat out, it was kind of hot. I almost forgot how annoyed I was that we were still in that awful place.” He admitted. “All her devil talk, I could barely keep my eyes from rolling…” his thought trailed off and Tav naturally picked it up.

“I wouldn’t call myself particularly selfless but I can’t help but see myself in others, to see my pain in theirs, and there is this,” They brought a hand to rest over their heart as Tav searched for the words. “Anger that fires up. It screams, swearing to me that if I can do something now, it’ll change the past. And I know that’s not true, but sometimes it’s so loud I can’t hear anything else. So when I hear someone like that bitter bitch call a child a parasite,” their gaze hardened as they started off at nothing, tongue biting off each syllable as their sight stayed fixed on the storm still rolling in their mind. “I just want to drag my nails down her fucking face.”

A broad smile pulled across his lips as he leaned closer, tilting his head as white fangs caught the moonlight. “Let’s kill her.” Tav blinked a few times, taking a moment to process his words before turning towards him. His face was so much closer, their cool toned skin turning a dusty, warm violet at their cheeks as they flushed. “When we get back with this Halsin fellow, or what’s left of him, we can wait till she’s asleep and,” he ran a finger across his neck.

“Is this supposed to be your idea of a date?” Tav deflected as they leaned back ever so slightly.

“Isn’t it romantic?” He teased, leaning in further. 

“Not sure romantic is the word I’d use-“ The softest hint of a smile cracked across their lips.

“There they are!” He cut in, the sharpness of his smile waned and he’d lean back once more. “I knew you were in there somewhere.”

Tav’s smile came back more true, still soft but he could see inside just a little to the storm. He could catch glimpses of familiar expressions and inflections, but whatever was on their mind was truly troubling them.

“You mentioned the hag, what has her on your mind?” Astarion asked as if he found the idea of giving the hag a second thought utterly bazaar.

“It’s not really about the hag, just like it wasn’t really about the druid.” They explained, shaking their head as their mind turned back to the storm. “It’s about that baby. Who knows what that hag would have really done with it, but I can’t help but wonder if whatever she had planned would have been better than being born to a madwoman and a ghoul.” Their gaze hardened on the ground again as their expression grew intense. Instead of the blank stare, their brow furrowed deeply as their lips creased into a frown.

“Why should you care?” He seemed genuinely confused. “As far as we’re concerned that woman got exactly what she wanted.”

“But she didn’t.” Tav’s lips scrunched and pushed from side to side. “I know all too well that magic can’t fix everything and when people who believe it can are confronted with that reality-“ their lip twitched as their breath hitched. Tav caught their eyes welling with tears and pushed it back down, shoving it all back in. “It’s never pretty.”

Astarion studied Tav’s posture, the exasperation absent from his tone now and replaced with care. “Frankly it’s none of our business. It’s not like we will ever cross their paths again.” He said in an attempt to comfort them.

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean they stop existing.” Tav’s continued to watch the river water roll past them as Astarion stared at Tav, speechless. 

Tav’s words swam in Astarion’s head but he was bad at this. There was something he wasn’t understanding, something fundamental to Tav. It wasn’t the first time he’d been confronted with this, it wasn’t specific to Tav even, this lack of understanding empathy. For a moment he wondered if there was something broken in him. If there was, it was surely Cazidor’s doing. He didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to ‘win’, if there was really such a thing in this sort of situation. Maybe it wasn’t possible, but his silence made him feel so inadequate. 

Tav sighed heavily and let their eyes drift back down the riverbed. “I need to get out of my own head.” 

Sometimes all you had to do was wait. Astarion hadn’t planned this, but it wouldn’t damage his goal. If anything, it might just help him. “Well if it’s getting out of your head, I can help with that.” There was a sweetness to his whisper that seemed to draw them in. Astarion stood and offered Tav a hand. “If you trust me.”

Tav’s gaze snapped to Astarion, the storm still raging in their mind, making it hard to think What did he mean about help? It was his last words that pulled them from their frozen state.  “I do.” Their voice was soft in turn, warm and deep yet comforting like a heavy blanket. Tav took Astarion’s hand and he’d step back, leading them to their feet and down river, away from camp.

As the night settled once more at the riverside, Gale stood with his back to a tree, hiding behind it and out of sight from the other two. How long had he been listening? How much had he heard? What was he going to do with that information? He stroked his beard in thought as he contemplated everything he’d just learned, his eyes locked on the direction Astarion had led Tav. Gale hummed in contemplation.

Astarion didn’t hold Tav’s hand for long, walking a few steps ahead of them even once they’d each let go. He led them up river to the edge of the camp and into the woods. They walked for what felt like much longer than it really was. “It’s not much further.” He assured them.

The dark didn’t bother Tav, their eyes were made for darkness. Yet as the vampire led them further into the woods a fear crept up their spine. Doubt seeped into their mind as a dissonant voice whispered, ‘How naive are you? He’s hungry and you’ve followed him into the dark, alone. What do you think is going to happen next? You’re not dumb, Tav. Stop making dumb choices.’

Astarion slipped through the trees like a phantom, gliding, each stride adding distance between them as his pace picked up and Tav’s slowed. He reached out as he approached a curtain of willow branches and vanished through them.

Tav paused, the voice in their head louder now as they stood at the threshold. ‘It’s not too late to turn back. Gale’s probably looking for you. You could run back to him, he’d gladly have you.’ Tav’s expression soured at the intrusive thoughts. Where were they coming from? They knew what Astarion was, and they didn’t fear him for it. Even if he was to act by his nature, they were confident in their ability to survive, and even then he’d proven twice now he could restrain himself. So why-

The curtain of willow opened once more as Astarion poked his head back through. “Are you coming?” A splash of annoyance tinged his tone. He did not like waiting, especially when he wanted something.

Tav blinked a few times before pressing their eyes closed and shaking their head. They pushed the thoughts away and stepped through the branches to see a small clearing. They could see a tree stump long cut and a thinning in the grass in the furthest point from the nearest trees. An old camp site long left to be reclaimed by the forest. 

The foliage around the clearing blocked most views inside. The clearing was big enough to let the moonlight past the canopy but not to the forest floor. Fireflies lit the forest floor, as the ambient glow of the defused moonlight kept this part of the woods peaceful and bright. Their eyes flit from the clearing to him and back before Tav took a few steps forward, turning to look around before looking back to Astarion.

They found his own brow quirked, a grin plastered across his lips as he studied them. “I’ve noticed you’re reluctant to play your originals by the fire, I thought you might like somewhere secluded to practice.” Tav recognized his smile now. He struggled to stay composed as blood drunk glee bubbling at the surface as he waited to be rewarded. They’d thought he was getting excited to feed but now they could see what he really wanted; praise. 

Tav took a moment to gather themself before a soft smile joined their surprised eyes. “Thank you.”

Astarion scoffed. “Are you really so surprised? We’re friends, after all.” It wasn’t nearly the reaction he’d expected, but at least it was a positive one. He could use it, even if the absence of his expectations left him irritated. Their surprise waned, leaving just a smile behind. Still, there was something about how eager he was, there was surely something more in it for him. “I’m not used to having honest friends.”

“Well,” He glanced away, the confidence in his voice wavering as he was verbally cornered. “I had more ideas aside from band practice.” Of course, there was always something more. “I thought the privacy could be good for many things. For more delicate conversations, an escape route for when Wyll’s patroness decides to slaughter us in the night, keep away the peeping Gales from our more intimate moments.” He said with a flash of his fangs.

The last suggestion caught Tav off guard. “You think Gale’s been watching us?” The thought was uncomfortable and Astarion could see as much, but in what way still eluded him. What better time to push his luck. He’d done a fair job of keeping Tav’s interest, they might just tell him how much of a risk Gale really was to his plan.

“I don’t just think so.” He stalked towards them, each step agonizingly slow as he closed the gap between them. “He’s worried I’ll corrupt you.” Astarion’s amusement was on the surface yet there was a dissonance between his tone and how he moved. His gaze had sharpened, head fixed on them, like a beast on the hunt. 

Tav’s body suddenly felt so incredibly heavy, their feet and arms unable to move as he came closer. They could feel their heart racing, the sound filling their ears as they realized they were holding their breath. Tav forced themself to breath, the sharp ex and inhales making a scoff. It was just enough to pull themself from their frozen state and cross their arms. Tilting their head, Tav’s eyes stayed on Astarion. “That’s rich… but, I don’t blame him for worrying. I’d be worried too if I knew a friend was willingly feeding a vampire.”

“If you distrust me so, why follow me out into the middle of the woods?” A soft red glow came from his eyes as he got within arms reach. The dark began to obscure his face as he became backlit by what little moonlight made it down to the forest floor.

“I do trust you.” They said without hesitation. “Even if my instincts tell me not to.”

“You shouldn’t ignore those. Wouldn’t want to end up dead, would you?” He loomed over them, the shadows darkening his face as Tav’s eyes burned like willow wisps.

“That’s why I keep trusting you.” Tav’s voice was flat as the nocturnal pare stared off. “We make a good team. Makes me want to trust you.” The sound of the woods took over the gaps in Tav’s words as they paused. Even with their dark vision Tav could only make out the faintest details of his expression. His eyes stared wide, his grin gone as he was unsure how to respond so Tav continued. “Whether that’s foolish of me is up to you. Just know if you break my trust, you’ll be Kelemvor’s problem.”

He cocked his head, still processing Tav’s words. He’d underestimated them again. Truly, Tav would make a terrible enemy, all the more reason he needed them wrapped around his finger. Still, it wasn’t too late to save face. The shadow on his face lifted as he took a step back and Tav could see a composed smile on his lips, the one he wore like a mask when he was hiding something. “You’ll learn I don’t disappoint, darling.” A flash of fangs and another step back and he was once again at the willow branches. “I’ll leave to… whatever it is artists do.” He waved goodbye with a flick of his wrist as he turned.

“Astarion,” Their voice gave him pause. Those red eyes turned back over his shoulder curiously. He was met with a shy smile. “Truly, thank you for...” Their voice trailed off as they gestured to the clearing. “Sharing this with me.” Tav’s long nails pushed back stray strands of gold, tucking them behind a pointed ear. There was something so honest in their expression now that they were fully out of their head,that connection he’d been so angry to lose was back. This wasn’t exactly the praise he’d wanted so badly, yet a strange feeling filled him. What was it? If he knew at one point, the feeling was unfamiliar to him now. 

Astarion turned away to hide his face. “What are friends for?” He called back as he vanished through the curtain of willow. He took only a few steps before pausing, waiting in the dark, the panic in him starting to settle in. A hand came to rest on his sternum as Astarion tried to decipher this feeling that had just threatened to consume him. There was a pain, a tightness in his chest as if a hand was gripping his heart. It was frightening, and exhilarating. It took only that short moment for the soft plucking of strings to meet his ears. Only then did the fear wash away to leave the most incredible feeling. He felt invincible. Only then was he satisfied.

[razzzar]

Here’s a lovely oc I’ve been working on!

So pretty much his powers allow him to only use clairvoyance and telekinesis on haunted objects but one day to tried to use them on the ocean and it destroyed his mind so he had to go with the psychonauts before his health could get even worse and he learned to be comfortable with his powers which can now only control water. Tangent time: so my version of the Galochio curse is not just the water wanting to kill are actually Galochio’s who are stuck haunting the individual Aquato’s until they finally drown. However, there’s only a limited number of Galochio spirits who haven’t moved on and all of them are already haunting someone so when a new Aquato is born a living Galochio will die at the same time and haunt them. So Tobias became a field agent and had no idea that is little sister had sadly passed while he was on missions. He had no clue about this until years later he was finally able to visit his mother, only to find her horribly ill. Suddenly being a psychonauts wasn’t about practising his psychic control, but now about getting help for the only person left in his family. But it even the greatest doctor couldn’t help her and she died. Tobias never got to be with her during her final moments and he is now filled with hate forthe psychonauts for keeping him in the dark about his families death, Zalto for inflicting this horrible curse, and the Aquato’s for being utterly unaware to the suffering they caused to his mother and sister.

Much more in depth version of his background below the cut, warning: it’s long, like really long. And touches on some topics that may upset some readers.

Despite being in a family of powerful psychics, Tobias couldn’t seem to use his psychic powers. They were there, he had the potential but he couldn’t use them in any normal way, it wasn’t until his mother brought home a haunted wood cutters axe that he realised his potential. She had gone to a nearby village and had bought one at good quality for an insanely cheap price because it was supposedly haunted, the rumours were that a crazed woodsman used it to kill people who wandered to close to his home. The axe was pretty heavy and both Tobias and his little sister Lavinia wanted to prove who was stronger, When Tobias grabbed the axe his vision began to swim and he could see everything that the.. axe could see? No, it wasn’t the axe. It was the spirits who possessed the axe he could see from. Moments after finally realising his special power he promptly collapsed.

Despite being in a family of powerful psychics, Tobias couldn’t seem to use his psychic powers. They were there, he had the potential but he couldn’t use them in any normal way, it wasn’t until his mother brought home a haunted wood cutters axe that he realised his potential. She had gone to a nearby village and had bought one at good quality for an insanely cheap price because it was supposedly haunted, the rumours were that a crazed woodsman used it to kill people who wandered to close to his home. The axe was pretty heavy and both Tobias and his little sister Lavinia wanted to prove who was stronger, When Tobias grabbed the axe his vision began to swim and he could see everything that the.. axe could see? No, it wasn’t the axe. It was the spirits who possessed the axe he could see from. Moments after finally realising his special power he promptly collapsed.

Tobias quickly became obsessed with using clairvoyance on any item that was even slightly rumoured to be haunted, which more than often gave him nasty headaches from trying to attune to ordinary items. He found he could use his clairvoyance on anything that was haunted: technology, nature, even full on houses! One day he tried it on a pond that a child had drowned in. What Tobias saw was breathtaking, he could see everything! He saw the little tadpoles darting through the mossy reeds, the little bugs paddling on the surface and everything in between. There was also this strange group of spirits barely there within the water...

If he could see so much beauty from a little pond what else could he see from say, a river? Or even the ocean? He told his mother about what he had experienced with the pond, and she was so proud of how far he had advanced, however, her loving smile faded when he brought up the foreign presence,she told him to stay away from this presence. However, all this did was strengthen his desire to discover what this was and how far his vision could go.

Over the course of several months he tried larger sources of water and discovered that he could telekinetikally move it with the spirit’s permission of course. He tried these powers on steams, rivers and lakes, sure they hurt to attune to, especially the village river where he could see from so many different spirits that it gave him a migraine but this was nothing some practise couldn’t fix. The strangest thing was the strange spirits who were too distant to attune to but were always there. All this practise eventually led up to the moment where he and Lavinia had borrowed some money for a bus to the beach, where Tobias would put his clairvoyance to the test with just how far his powers could go. For when he attuned to the seawater he was instantly bombarded with EVERYTHING all at once and it HURT!!! He didn’t know what was happening to him or how to make it stop! So he stood there, horrendous pain racking his body until he finally collapsed, his mind deathly silent.

He made it home safely and was extremely lucky to survive such an attack but his mind had shut down from the trauma and it was almost as if he was dead with a pulse. It took nearly a full year before he had recovered enough to be independent again, but he could never be the same. For starters he could no longer control his powers, he could no longer attune to haunted objects but stepping within 3 metres of any water would instantly activate his clairvoyance. The strange spirits within the liquid were now the only spirits he could attune with. And if he went even closer to the source the spirits could move the water on their own, with his telekinesis. Tobias began to avoid water like the plague, even refusing to drink it. His mother and sister became exponentially worried for him and his quickly deteriorating health. His mother got in contact with the psychonauts, the greatest and most ethical psychic researchers and employers to try to help her son find a way to get past his fatal fear of water. Seeing as Tobias wanted to get help and stop his family’s stress he agreed to go to the European psychonauts branch.

Over the years he learned to be more comfortable with his intrusive powers and relearning how to at least influence the water’s movement, practically building a bond with what he now knows as the unfortunate Galochio’s who drowned in the big top. He became comfortable enough to test himself in real world situations. The psychonauts were very supportive of him and his growth, always making sure that he was well both physically and mentally. He went on missions with other agents and generally had a good time them. Finally after a long and dangerous mission Tobias used his leave time to visit his family and fill them in on the incredible adventures he’d taken.

The cabin had hardly changed though it was quieter than it was before, then again, he’d been away for years and Lavinia could have gone out on this day. He entered to find his mother in bed, deathly pale but still alive, she reminded him of how he was before he’d joined the psychonauts. Tobias questioned her about what had happened while he was gone. He was told that Lavinia had died only a year after he had left and his mother had been ill for the past 8 months. Tobias truly wanted to help her, he truly did but she told him there was nothing he could do. He didn’t listen to her and after a heartfelt goodbye, returned to the psychonauts to demand the best aid for his mother. He received the news 4 weeks later that she had passed. Leaving Tobias as the last known Galochio. He spiralled into depression and lashed out at anyone who even looked at him the wrong way. A few days later he received his family’s scrapbook, inside were collections of fond memories and on the final page was a letter by his mother. It was a sort of goodbye letter, or at least the first paragraph was, the rest detailed the past of the Galochio clan that she avoided talking about: the Aquato’s and the curse that they unintentionally wrought on both clans.

He was able to have closure for his family at least. But his hatred was now split between Zalto and the Aquato’s, and he would never rest until he could take revenge on at least one of them, though he couldn’t just go hunting for them. He was still stuck with the psychonauts with no where to go. So he’d just have to be patient and hope that one of his personal targets would pop up on the psychonaut’s radar...

Until 4 years later when receives and urgent message from the American Psychonauts branch to fly over and help with the aftermath of Truman Zanotto’s kidnapping...

[agerestorybits]

Kids say the darnest things.

Remus regressed to about five alot. A loooooot. It had his favorite pastime. One the others liked him better regressed in his shape shifted down form. And two, it was just plain fun seeing what he could get away with. Kids are little chaos maker after all.

Remus woke up small. His room shifting to reflect the mental change. Every so often the animal theme of decor that covered his walls would change to the animal trait of whoever he wanted most. Today it was frogs. Cartoon frogs, graphically real frogs, dead frogs, cut open frogs, tadpoles. His bedsheets were covered in lilypad print. It was clear that Patton was going to have a bundle of crazy to look after today, not that he ever minded.

Remus got dressed in a green jumper and blue shorts. He grabbed his stuffed badger named Ricky and rushed from his room. He ran down the stairs to where everyone was already having breakfast.

"Hi!" He yelled at the top of his lungs.

Instead of being yelled at, there were amused looks and laughter at his antics. "Greetings. What adventures did you have planned today?" Roman asked as Remus climbed into his seat.

"I wanna hang out with Poppa." Remus said pointing to Patton. Patton beamed at that.

"That sounds fantastic Kiddo. You want some breakfast?" Patton asked.

Remus nodded, he was always hungry when he was little. He even settled for eating real foods because of that. He preferred them in little space, but her wasn't going to let the others know that. He got a plate of eggs with toast and jam and wolfed it down quickly.

"Don't choke." Logan warned as Remus shoved more food in before he finished his last bite.

"Like he'll listen." Virgil said drily, amused.

Janus rolled his eyes. Remus never choked. He could eat anything and be fine. He wasn't worried.

"Done!" Remus yelled pulling the plate away and grabbing Ricky who was in all honesty looking a bit beat up.

"Ricky's looking a little rough there." Roman commented.

"Would you like me to patch him up for you?" Janus offered. Remus hesitated. On the one hand he would like Ricky to be fixed up but... Then he would miss him while he was gone.

"Ok....but hurry?" Remus asked handing the toy over.

"Of course. I'll take good care of him." Janus promised before walking off with the toy.

Remus kicked his feet as he waited for everyone to get done eating... Well Patton to get done eating so they could play.

"What do you think eyeballs taste like?" He blurted out.

There were a couple winces but no one yelled. "I... Don't know." Patton said forcing a smile.

"Mmm. I bet it's gross." Remus said happily.

"It does sound gross." Virgil commented.

"Well I'm off." Roman said standing.

"I should get to work as well." Logan said standing and following Roman from the room.

Virgil gave a nod and a two fingered salute before he left as well. Patton cleaned up the dishes while Remus waited.

And waited

An waited.

"Poppa I'm bored!" He said slumping down in his chair.

"I'm almost done. Do you want to go pick out a board game for us to play?" Patton asked.

"No. I play with play-doh." Remus said.

"Do you know where it is?" Patton asked.

"Yes."

"Ok. Go get it out! I'll be there soon." Patton said.

----

Remus made play-doh dicks in rainbow colors. Patton laughed about it silently. He really shouldn't encourage this but..

"Dicks dicks dicks...." Remus sang while he made one.

Patton burst out laughing. "N-n-nooooo. Don-don't sing."

"Awww. But I wanna." Remus pouted.

"How about we play something else?" Patton asked.

"Ugh. Fiiiiine." Remus said smashing the play-doh back into the containers.

The clean up was easy, the picking out what to do next was not. "Knife juggling!"

"No."

"Pleease."

"No Remus."

Remus crossed his arms and huffed. "Didn't even need to use real knives."

Patton hadn't thought of that. Plastic or foam knives would have been perfectly safe... But he didn't want Remus to get in the habit of throwing things.

"How about we go to the park?" Patton asked.

"Can we get Ro to go too?" Remus asked excited.

"Roman's gotta work today Kiddo." Patton said.

Remus' face fell. Patton caved. "But maybe he can take a break for awhile."

Remus was ecstatic. Bouncing along behind Patton on the way to get his brother. Roman agreed easily, and Logan even decided to come along.

Logan sat with Patton on a bench and watched Roman push Remus on the swings. Then chasing him around in a game of tag. Then they played in the sandbox. Two hours later they had built a tiny sand city and Remus was leaning against Roman's side yawning.

"Naptime?" Roman asked picking Remus up.

"Mmm." Remus agreed too tired to keep his eyes open.

Roman handed Remus off to Patton so that he could get back to work. Patton managed to keep Remus awake long enough to get into clean clothing before tucking him in for his nap.

"Sleep well." Patton said giving Remus a kiss on the forehead.

Remus smiled as he dozed off. He hoped he would still be regressed when he woke up. He wanted to stay regressed forever.

----

Remus woke from his nap bigger and disappointed. There went his afternoon. He sighed heavily and resigned himself to a lonely afternoon.

Unless.

Well no one knew that he wasn't regressed anymore he just....shape shift down to a kid again. No one would be any the wiser... Except Janus of course... But he could just stay away from him.

He ran out of his room to find Patton. "Hi kiddo. Sleep well?"

"Yeah!" Remus said before climbing into Patton's lap and cuddling up against his chest.

"Is someone in a cuddle mood?" Patton asked hugging him.

"Mmm!" Remus said tucking his face against Patton's shoulder.

It would be so easy to bite him. Remus pushed the thought away. This is why no one like not regressed him he reminded himself.

He had to behave.

"You want to watch t.v?" Patton asked.

Remus barely managed to hold back from shouting out the name of a porno... Fuck... What the heck did he watch when he was little??

"Yeah!" Remus said forcing some pep in his tone.

"What do you want to watch?" Patton asked.

Shit shit shit! What does he watch?!?

"Remus?" Patton's voice was concerned.

Remus sniffed. When had he started crying? He couldn't do it! He couldn't keep this up.

He hopped off Patton's lap and ran off. "Wha- Remus!"

He got to his room and slammed the door shut before shifting back to normal.

Stupid. He shouldn't be crying over this. There was a knock at the door.

"Remus what's wrong?" Patton asked.

Remus opened the door and Patton's expression shifted from worry to confusion. "Remus you're..."

"I'm bigger so you don't have to bother with me anymore." Remus said before trying to shut the door. He did not expect Patton to push the door open and hug him.

"Oh kiddo." Patton said.

Remus cried harder. "No... You're not suppose to care!"

"Of course I care. Little or big. Did you think we didn't care about bigger you?"

Remus sobbed and nodded. Patton hugged him. "I'm sorry we made you feel like that. We should have been more clear."

Remus pulled away so he could look at Patton. "Can...can we still cuddle and watch t.v?"

Patton smiled at him. "Of course. I would love to."

[sophfic27]

I wrote a short story for class, and I really want to post it.

Don’t You Want to Know the Truth?

Tami’s scuffed boots pound on the pavement, disturbing puddles as they go. Rain and sweat fix strands of her dark hair to her forehead, and her clothes are by now completely soaked, and the cuffs of her jeans are filthy with mud. She hugs her camera, wrapped in a plastic bag, to her chest to avoid dropping it. Ahead of her, the lights are still flashing. The fight isn’t over yet.

Good. Tami hasn’t chased them for two blocks to miss her latest On the Scene scoop. Tami turns the corner and comes to a stop to take in the scene quickly. The battle had moved to a street between the Larimer Hotel and the skyscraper office building across from it. Framed between the buildings is Light Blaze, dramatically poised, floating midair, her glow illuminating the rain that falls around her. Tami raises her camera and captures the perfectly framed image of the famous heroine and moves to duck behind a car to watch the fight safely and continue to take pictures.

Light Blaze stares at the skyscraper which has a gaping hole in the front. Tami keeps her camera ready for the villain thrown there to inevitably jump out and attack Light Blaze. Sure enough, a few moments later, the frog-themed villain, Tadpole leaps out of the building, aiming for Light Blaze. The heroine flicks her wrist, easily sending the villain to the ground with her light shield. Tami snaps another photo of Tadpole pathetically sprawled on the pavement below Light Blaze, graceful and majestic as ever. After that, it seems the fight is over, as the glowing hero floats slowly to the ground where she grabs Tadpole by the front of his shirt and heaves him up, until he’s eye level with her elaborate domino mask. Light Blaze snatches a device from his belt, crushes it, and drops him back to the ground just as sirens draw closer to the scene. Tami looks behind her and sees a barrage of police cars turning the corner. She turns back to the hero and villain and finds that Light Blaze has taken off. The police who have turned up run out to arrest Tadpole, and Tami takes her cue to leave as well. As she slinks past the police cars, back to her apartment, she notices that the rain had stopped already.

On her walk home, she starts to mentally compose her story about how renowned heroine, Light Blaze, has once again saved the city, this time from Tadpole’s evil, although odd plan to flood the city and turn everyone into frogs. With her story mostly laid out, her thoughts turn to where they usually do: Light Blaze. Tami has been writing about the hero ever since she became publicly active almost five years ago, and in all that time, she’s seemingly no closer to finding the mysterious woman’s identity. Over the last few years, it had become a secret obsession for Tami, but the heroine’s light abilities and disguise made it difficult to discern any specific identifiable features, and she had expertly avoided Tami’s every attempt to trap her into an interview. Tami was very good at finding the truth. This particular struggle gnawed at her constantly, like an itch she can’t scratch, no matter how hard she tries to find it.

The worst part is she feels like the truth is right in front of her. It aggravates her as she suspects she could be missing something obvious, but with so little to go on, she instead finds herself drifting off deep in thought, often drawing wild conclusions for the sake of having any theories at all.

Maybe she doesn’t have a real name, she postulates, though I don’t know what she would do with the rest of her time. She’s probably no one, just some inconspicuous girl who works in the city. If that’s the case, I’ll probably never know who she is, the same old concern rises up unwanted. Can’t hurt to try, though. I don’t care if I don’t ever know who she is, I’m not going to give up over something like that. I’ve spent too much energy on this now. And, who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe I know her-

“Tami!” a shout cuts through her thoughts. Tami starts, almost knocking over her smoothie, and looks across at her friend. Jean shakes her head, her dyed blue waves bouncing with the motion, “you coulda just told me I was boring you,” she says with a chuckle.

“You weren’t!” Tami protests suddenly, “sorry, I just zoned out there for a minute.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Jean quips, raising her own purple smoothie to her lips. She quirks an eyebrow and her smile falls slightly, “you’re thinking about her again, huh?”

Tami casts a look at the overly colorful smoothie stand menu, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tami looks back at Jean, who is giving her incredulous look, “sure you don’t. She’s a literal superhero that no one has talked to, you don’t have to throw yourself a pity party just because you can’t get an interview.” Tami rolls her eyes and tries to speak before being interrupted by Jean again, “you’ve gotten plenty of other interviews before,” Jean starts counting on her fingers, “like the one with the Scarlet Sentinel-”

“He talks to everyone,” retorts Tami.

Jean holds up her finger to stop Tami and continues, “Dark Titan, Braveheart, Silver Shield, Hell, you even got one with the Defender for Pete’s sake.”

Tami shrugs, “ok, sure, that one was impressive,” she admits.

“So why are you hung up on the one who doesn’t talk to anyone ever? I mean seriously,” she takes a sip as if to punctuate her point, “Light Blaze has never given out an interview. Not one.”

“Exactly!” Tami slams her palms on the table. She looks around and grits her teeth in embarrassment, and continues, “I mean aren’t you curious?” Jean sighs, but Tami pushes on, “’Cause you’re totally right, she has never given out a single interview. She’s been out her saving the city for how long?”

She stops, prompting Jean to answer. Jean rolls her eyes, “like five years,” she half sighs, officially giving up on convincing her friend.

“Yeah,” she takes another sip, “five years, and still no one knows anything about her. That’s totally weird, right?”

“Maybe she’s shy.” Jeans leans back in her chair, her brown hands combing through blue hair to put it in a ponytail.

“Yeah, whatever, she’s a superhero, sorry to say it, but she doesn’t get to be ‘shy’. I want to talk to her, find out more about her.”

“What, is this a date?” Jean jokes.

“Stop trying to change the subject, I mean it. Who is she? Is she human or is she an alien or something? How did she get her powers? We have an origin story for everyone else, where’s hers?”

Jean frowns, “well she can’t exactly tell you who she is. Secret identities and all that. And why do you need an origin story for her?”

“Don’t you want to know the truth?” Tami’s brown eyes bear into Jean’s, as if challenging her.

Jean stares back, “I don’t know. I don’t really care. She’s still going to do her job either way.”

Tami blinks. She studies her friend, her caramel skin and her blue hair with dark brown roots, her eyes blaze amber, almost glowing from the way the light hits them. She wore a black tee-shirt, and a teal flannel jacket she got not long after they met. Tami knew Jean better than anyone. She is suddenly hit by the weight of the stare Jean gives her and realizes that she should give it up. Jean doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Tami shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath, leaning back in her chair. Finally, she speaks up again, “well I do,” she says, gentler than she had been. “And I bet a lot of other people would like to know more about her, too.”

She looks back up at Jean, who has pulled the lid off her cup to stir the smoothie left at the bottom. Tami can smell the berry from across the table. “You know how I feel, Jean, I want to share the truth with people. I think they deserve to know.”

Jean puts down her straw and looks up again, the mirth returning to her eyes, “yeah, yeah, and you’ll stop at nothing to find that truth. I know you too well, Tami, but when are you going to take a break?”

“I don’t need a break. I like my work,” Tami starts to dig at the bottom of her own smoothie.

“Yeah, well,” Jean glances at her phone, “my break is almost over, I’ve got to get back to work.” Tami nods as Jean pulls her purse onto her shoulder and stands. “Good talk, T,” Jean says.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon?” Tami says.

“Count on it,” Jean winks as she makes her way to the door.

Tami mulls over her talk with Jean. She can understand that not everyone is quite as information hungry as she is, but she still struggles to understand Jean’s general disinterest in the extraordinary.

For the next few days, she works on other stories, but Light Blaze is never far from her mind. Soon, she comes upon a case that’s right up her alley: an ad campaign that’s a thinly veiled front for the latest Villainous Plot of the Week.

She finds herself sneaking through an old, creepy warehouse. In other words, it’s a typical Friday for Tami Sato. The whole place is dark, and a thick musty scent hangs in the air. Her boots scuff on the ground, and she carefully shifts her balance to quiet her footsteps. Somewhere ahead, there is a rhythmic clanging, and she pushes ahead to find its source. All around, there are shapes of old machinery draped in plastic, signs too faded and rusted to read, and moldy wood benches falling apart. Her eyes sweep every inch of the dilapidation. She lifts her camera to take a picture of one of the signs that reads Microchip Manufacturing. Interesting coincidence, she thinks, that this is the only one I can actually read.

She’s startled from her musing by another distant clanging. Tami presses on, pushing open a door that leads to a balcony that overlooks the main factory. She kneels near the wall, staying low to avoid being seen by the henchmen below. They all wear uniforms to emulate their leader, the Circus Freak. She snaps a couple pictures of the scene, and looks around of the villain himself, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Tami narrows her eyes, and she feels a prickle on the back of her neck. Something’s wrong. She turns to look behind her.

“Boo.” The creepily painted face of Circus Freak is inches away from her own. She jumps and falls back as he cackles loudly, and her vision goes dark as he covers her head with a sack.

The next few minutes are confusing and disorienting. Her hands are tied behind her back, and she is jostled and moved. Tami protests angrily, but no one speaks to her directly. Finally, she can see again, and she finds herself bound to a pole on top of the warehouse. Fantastic. She’s officially become the cliché damsel in distress. Circus Freak circles her, smiling creepily. Tami frowns and sighs exasperatedly. “Since we’re up here,” she starts, hoping to at least get an interview out of the situation, “you might as well tell me what you want with me. From what I’ve heard, taking hostages isn’t really your M.O.”

Circus Freak cackled some more, “no it’s not, but it’s a special occasion!” He says. She quirks an eyebrow. A strong gust of wind blows past, and she finds herself grateful to be fixed to the post as she looks down at the ground below her with a shudder. Circus Freak seemed unphased by the wind.

“What’s the occasion then?” she tries to ignore the dizzying height.

He draws closer to her again, and grins manically. “It’s a big day for me, I just needed someone to keep Ms. Lite Brite off my back, while I finish the job.” He starts to make his way to the doors that leads back down to the warehouse.

He leaves her alone, and she leans her head against the pole. “Cool, so I’m a distraction.”

She looks down again, and gulps. “Hope I’m a quick distraction.”

Nearly an hour passes, and Tami is freezing. She started hearing fighting below her several minutes ago, so she was hoping that meant she’d be getting down soon. She hears a new commotion and looks down to the ground where she sees a stream of henchmen leaving the building. That’s… not good. If she knew anything from years of being a journalist following the activity of superheroes, she knew that when henchmen are evacuating, it probably meant that you should, too. If this building went down with her on top of it… well, she hoped it wouldn’t come down to that.

Sure enough, a few moments later she hears a boom from inside the warehouse. The roof shakes, and pole waves. Tami swallows nervously. More booms and shaking from the warehouse go on for the next few minutes, and she waits anxiously as she watches the roof begin to crack, and the pole she’s tied to becomes less and less sturdy. Wind whips at her face, and she struggles against the rope on her hands, when the roof suddenly gives way.

Her heart stops for a moment and her face goes white with terror as she begins to plummet. The pole disappears from behind her and the wind continues to whip at her. She tries to scream, but nothing comes out. Tami is enveloped by the darkness and she squeezes her eyes shut when she thinks she’s getting close to the ground.

Then she stops falling. She can feel arms around her shoulders and under her knees. Her eyes are still shut, but she can see a glow through her eye lids. She opens her eyes one at a time, anxiously looking down. Her eyes widen at the sight of the ground only a hundred feet below. She turns to look at her rescuer. Her glow nearly blinds Tami after being in the dark night for so long, but she squints to get her first close look at the heroine.

The light blue domino mask has silver swirls etched into it, and her hair glows a similar shade of blue. Her whole face shines, as she looks at Tami.

Tami gapes for a minute, and finally comes to her senses enough to ask, “so how do you feel about interviews?”

The sound of sirens draw closer and Light Blaze turns to look toward the source. This is usually the part where Light Blaze takes off, and Tami wonders if she will do so again, just drop her off and fly away. But instead Light Blaze flies off with Tami still clutched in her arms. Tami’s heart stops briefly as she realizes what’s happening, and she reflexively wraps her arms around the hero’s neck, trying desperately to feel more secure as she flies hundreds of feet over the ground. She looks down and watches the remains of the rope that had been tying her hands twisted through the air, falling away to the ground. She looks at the cop cars arriving where they had left and the top of the now destroyed warehouse. She looks toward the city and sees the tops of buildings and lights shining below. Tami tries to swallow her initial fear and take in the astonishment of flying. People have been rescued and subsequently flown around by heroes before, but it’s the first time for Tami and she’s completely astonished. They appear to be flying toward the city and she suddenly thinks to ask, “where are you taking me anyway?”

Light Blaze doesn’t even seem to look at her, though Tami supposes it may be hard to tell because of her mask. Another thought occurs to her, “can you even talk? Is that why you always avoid interviews with me?” To Tami’s surprise, Light Blaze just laughs a short, amused chuckle. Tami stares in awe. “Ok so you’re not deaf, that was going to be my next legitimate question.”

Light Blaze banks around the corner of a building and Tami holds on tighter. She stares at the ground with wide eyes. There are cars driving up and down, people meandering along the sidewalk, shops and restaurants going about their business and Tami is flying. It’s an odd thought to her. If they looked up they might see her, but as long as they didn’t they were completely unaware that she was there. If she called out or tried to get someone’s attention they would look, but as long as she left it alone, they were alone up there in the air. Light Blaze is flying closer to the news building Tami realizes, and she realizes that is probably where she will be dropped off. Light Blaze clears the lip of the roof and touches down a couple meters away from the edge. As soon as she is standing on the ground, she stops glowing. They stand there for a second as Tami stares at Light Blaze quizzically. Light Blaze stares back, her face now in the shadow of night.

Suddenly Light Blaze clears her throat, “you let go now,” she says. Tami blinks in surprise. Light Blaze’s voice is deep, commanding, and slightly gruff. If Tami didn’t know better, she would think she was putting on a voice.

She shakes her head, “oh, yeah, right,” she says. Light Blaze lowers her legs to the ground and Tami lets go of her neck and steps back. She tugs her jacket closer to her body in an attempt to combat the cold. Light Blaze turns and looks like she is preparing to jump. Tami starts suddenly, this is her chance to ask her some questions, no way in hell is she passing it up. “Hang on a second, I’m not letting you off that easily!”

Light Blaze pauses and turns her head to glance back at Tami with an eyebrow arched. Tami goes on, expecting that she doesn’t have much time before the elusive woman tries to take off again, “How did you know to take me here?”

Light Blaze turns toward her fully. “What?” Her voice is more relaxed, not so gruff anymore, almost familiar, but Tami ignores it for the moment.

“This building, this is where I work. Did you know that? Do you know who I am?” Tami asks the heroine.

Light Blaze’s eyebrows raise, and her mouth falls open slightly. Her reaction tells Tami that she slipped up, and probably doesn’t know how to believably explain herself, so Tami doesn’t bother with giving her a chance to make up an excuse. “Who are you?” she asks. She knows she may not get a straight answer, but she may at least learn something.

The heroine doesn’t speak for a moment. She looks deep in thought, thinking of what to say, Tami supposes. Finally, she speaks up, “I’m Light Blaze. You gave me that name after all.” Light Blaze shifts her weight, standing up straight and putting her fists on her hips. Her white, somewhat armored suit glints in the moonlight. Her blue cape and blue hair flow in a well-timed gust of wind, but her gloved fists don’t fins her hips properly and she has to readjust. The pose is meant to be powerful but comes off as awkward. Obviously, this really is Light Blaze’s first time giving an interview. Possibly being around anyone at all.

Tami narrows her eyes, not impressed. “Uh-huh,” she says, “so you do know me then. You follow my work?” She tilts her head, inquiring.

“In a manner of speaking,” the heroine replies. She’s trying to keep her answers vague. Interviewees do that when they are trying to hide something. In this case, Tami admits, it’s her secret identity, so it’s understandable.

“Well you clearly know enough about me to know exactly where I work. I can’t even expect that of some of my friends,” Tami quips, hoping she can convince Light Blaze to relax slightly. Light Blaze smiles slightly at that comment, so Tami counts it as a success. “You’ve been around for five years, why have you never talked to, well, anyone?”

Light Blaze chuckles awkwardly, “well, in case you couldn’t tell,” she rubs a hand over her neck, “I’m not the most skilled conversationalist. And I try to keep my private life private.”

Tami crosses her arms and shrugs, “fair enough,” she says, “I don’t need to know too much about that then, but I do want to know about you as a superhero. Just so we’re on the same page, do you think you could give me a rundown of what your powers are?”

“Um,” Light Blaze, puts her hand to her face in thought, “you may want to write this down if I do.”

“I have an eidetic memory; I’ll remember anything you tell me.”

Light Blaze nods, and starts to count off on her fingers, “first off I glow and can fly, those ones are pretty obvious. I seem to have more strength than I used to, but maybe not on the level of some super strong heroes. The rest of my powers involve manipulating light,” Light Blaze explains as Tami makes note of a few follow up questions to ask.

“So stuff like your shield, your power blasts, stuff like that is you ‘manipulating light’?” Tami confirms.

Light Blaze nods, “that’s right.”

Tami rubs her chin, “you said ‘manipulate’, so can you work in complete darkness?”

“Complete darkness is very rare,” Light Blaze says, “and I can glow, so I can create my own light to work with.”

“How long can you keep creating light for?” Tami asks, “do you have a limit on how long or much you can use your powers?”

Light Blaze shakes her head, her blue wavy hair bouncing around. “I can keep creating light until I get physically exhausted. It requires energy. It’s like walking, I can do it for a long time, but it’ll tire me out eventually. The same pretty much applies to my other powers.”

“Your shield and blasts would seem to indicate that you can make light hard, is that right?”

“Yeah. The energy used in those can be felt physically because they are highly condensed light.”

“You said you’re stronger than before, so that means you got your powers, and you weren’t born with them.”

Light Blaze looks shocked for a moment. “Uh, yeah. Good catch.”

“Are you human?” Tami presses.

“I… was?” She says it almost like a question. “I was born human; I think the term they use for people like me is metahuman.”

Tami nods. “How?” Light Blaze gives her a blank look. “How did you get your powers?”

Light Blaze crosses her arms, “why? Do you want to write my origin story?”

“Sure. I think people would be interested, don’t you?”

She purses her lips, considering. “I didn’t really think people would care.”

Tami squints, “you’re not the first one to say that. I just disagree.”

Light Blaze stares at her. “I was in an accident. It’s a long story, and pretty typical. Weird science experiment gone wrong and it gave me powers. You know. The usual.”

Tami mulls over this for a moment, fidgeting with the end of her sleeve, “so that’s it? Weird experiment and you had powers?” Light Blaze nods. “Well, you’re right, that is a pretty typical origin story. What made you decide to become a superhero?”

Light Blaze looks off to the side for a moment. “It took me a while to even realize I had powers. The accident put me in a body cast for like a month,” Tami quirks an eyebrow at that, “When I did figure it out, I was pretty freaked out. I kept it a secret, tried to avoid using them, tried to figure out how to control them. I wasn’t planning on being a superhero at first, it just sort of happened. Saw something happen that I knew I could help with my powers, so I did. I didn’t have a costume yet, so I just kinda used my light to make myself really hard to look at and figure out who I was.” Tami thought back to her first appearance. She had been there and took a picture of the mysteriously light woman. The first time she had seen her, she shown so brightly, all you could see was the shape of a woman shining like the sun. Apparently, that was intentional. “I didn’t mean to get attention, but there were a bunch of people around, and I guess you took a picture of me, so that was it. I was in the public eye. And to my own surprise, I liked being a hero a lot more than I expected. It was fun. So, I made myself a costume so I wouldn’t have to blind everyone when I went out to help people.”

Tami nods. “So that’s why you’re here? Because you like to save people? It’s fun?”

“More or less,” Light Blaze shrugs.

“And why did you never stop for an interview? I know I’m not the only reporter who’s ever tried to get one.”

“Mostly? I was just shy, busy, or just didn’t feel like it. Or maybe I was scared that a reported would try to get me to reveal my secrets or try to reveal my identity to the world.”

Tami studied the woman’s face. She knows now that she is all too familiar with it. “So, what changed?” she says.

Light Blaze stares back, and after a few moments finally says, “I’m choosing to trust you.” Tami’s breath pauses at that.

After a few moments of silence between the two, another gust of wind picks up Light Blaze’s azure hair and cape and she finally breaks the quiet, “I should go. It was good talking to you, Tami.”

Tami studies the woman, “sure,” she considers for a moment and finally says, “I’ll see you soon?”

Light Blaze starts to glow and lifts off the roof inch by inch. Tami thinks she sees the heroine smile, but her eyes haven’t adjusted to her sudden light, so it’s difficult to tell. “Count on it,” the heroine says.

And she winks. The movement is difficult to make out through the mask, but Tami knows it happened. Light Blaze turns and flies off into the night.

Tami turns and makes her way to the door that will lead her into the building, her feet scuffing along the gravel on the roof, deep in thought.

About five and a half years ago, Jean spent almost every day for a month visiting Jean in the hospital after an accident in her lab put her in a body cast. Then, a few months later, she had plans to meet Jean outside of a movie theater in the city. She had just left a grand opening where she had been taking photographs, so as she lounged near the door waiting for her friend and watching the city pass by, she clicked through photos on her camera, deciding which ones she wanted to use in her article. It was a few minutes before their intended meet up time when there was suddenly a cacophony of screams. A small jet was falling from the sky, hurtling towards the crowds and cars. The jet was marked with the logo of a villain, seemingly knocked from the sky by some hero in a battle up above. There was panic as the jet crashed into a building, sending debris hurtling down toward passers-by below. Tami remembers looking on in terror from across the street when there was suddenly a great shield. It was concave up, catching the debris and jet in a bowl-like structure. People chattered, bewildered by what had happened, and Tami started taking pictures as quickly as she could. That’s when she appeared: A woman who at the time looked like she was made of pure light. She floated beside the shield; a hand outstretched toward it. Tami adjusted the exposure on her camera, determined to get a good shot of the mysterious new hero. The crowd began to applaud, and the woman of light looked around at the people below. She started to fly away, carrying the debris with her. Tami watched as she flew and deposited the debris in the bay and took off toward somewhere in the city.

At the time, Tami had been so astonished by the appearance of a new hero, she barely thought about a very key detail: Jean never showed.

Now, Tami supposes, I guess I know why.

She stops at the door and turns and walks to the roof’s edge instead. She looks over the edge at the people below. They go about their night, oblivious to her above. The building isn’t so tall that if she called down to them, they wouldn’t hear her, or if she threw something, they would look up. But as long as she stays quiet, they would stay oblivious.

“Yeah, well,” she muses aloud as she turns back toward the door, “maybe that’s for the best after all.”

She puts her hand on the door handle and pulls it open, silently grateful that it was unlocked. Before stepping inside, she casts another look over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of Jean’s glowing form soaring over the city. She smirks to herself and lets the door close gently behind her.

[tracle0]

t w e l ve

Tagged by @joyful-soul-collector who yeah man listen we’re gonna tag each other backwards and forwards until we’re out of characters, and all due respect, but I think I have a few more characters than you so fuckin try me 

Heads up in advance - question 12 references some childhood abuse. Very faintly. But ye have been warned. 

1. Would you rather have a monkey tail or cat ears?

Clearly not the question Olly was expecting. He jerked a little and shot a look over your shoulder. You’re not really sure what he’s looking at, but whatever it was, it assured him into answering it. With a deep frown, he says, “Is it possible to have neither?”

You tell him no, he has to choose, and he pulls a pouting stubborn face and goes quiet for at least four minutes. Even after prompting with the question again, he refuses to answer. You move on. 

2. Sweet or Salty? Tea or Coffee? Fire or Ice?

“What are these questions...?” He heaves a huge sigh. It seems he regrets agreeing to this. “Salty, coffee and ice. As long as it’s kept safe and is unlikely to spill.”

There’s a little bit of laughter behind you. It sounds like a burst of static. Now you’re afraid to turn around. 

3. What would you do if you somehow lost your best friend? Can be lost in a crowd or loss of life or any other way of being lost.

Once again, he looks over your shoulder at the static spewing being. “Well. We have various rendezvous points about town. If we were lost in a crowd, we’d just go there. But loss as in death...?” For a long moment, he looks lost himself, completely distraught. 

“You could just visit me as a zombie,” the static-spewing person says. Their comment does not still your nerves, nor does it still Olly’s.

“Yes,” he agrees nonetheless. “But...” He shakes his head and gestures at you for move on. 

4. Are you scared of the dark? Have you ever been?

“That’s a stupid thing to be scared of. You’re not actually scared of the dark if you think you are, you’re scared of what might be in it, or you’re scared of the unknown.” His lecture sounds like a rehearsed one. It doesn’t answer your question. His stare is a little too intense for you to prompt again. 

5. Have you ever dyed your hair? Would you ever consider it if you haven’t?

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Cardinal, you’d rock a green head.”

Olly’s glare turns into a vicious stare at whoever spoke. You move on hurriedly. This interview is going a lot quicker than the last, and you’re a little thankful for that. 

6. Do you like to play with fire? Have you ever lit matches just to see how close it would get to your fingers before you had to blow it out?

“That’s ridiculously dangerous and anyone who does that is tempting fate, not only to themselves but also to the items around them. Imagine if you dropped the match on a book! How long that’d take to copy out again!” He tugs at the straps around his shoulders in distress, then looks at you. “Do you mean people actually do that?”

You decide not to tell him about the time you stole a matchbox to do exactly that. 

7. Who and/or What do you live for?

“Books.” The answer is instant and monosyllabic. There’s a long pause as you expect him to continue talking, and as he stares at you. Finally, before it can get too long, you’re interrupted by the static-y person behind you.

“What about me?”

Olly sighs long and loudly through his nose then relents. “And Atlas. It’d be a pretty sucky world without Atlas.”

“Damn straight.” 

8. If you were a mermaid/man/person, what would your tail look like?

He gives you a critical stare while the person behind you - Atlas? - laughs harder, again sounding like static. “A... fish?” He finally guesses. 

“We had this exact talk last week, Olly, you liar. What did you say again?” Olly refuses to answer to both you and Atlas, so they fill in for him. “Wasn’t it a tadpole tail?”

“Better than a shrimp,” Olly shoots back. It only makes Atlas laugh harder. 

9. Have you gone to school? If you have, what was your favorite class? If not, why not?

“I have been to school. I liked English.” He pauses, then lowers his voice to a stage-whisper. “It was the only class where Atlas wasn’t there.”

“That’s a lie, it’s the only class where I was there.” Olly’s grin reveals that Atlas is telling the truth. Seems pretty gay, you think, but don’t say. 

10. Have you ever had a pet? Or taken care of an animal in any way? What was the animal’s name?

“Do you realise how many germs animals carry?” Olly shivers, the same shiver you had that one time you woke up to find a tarantula making its slow way up to your inside thigh. “I’ve taken care of plants before. I’m not sure if they had names.”

“They do.” You both ignore Atlas’s input. Plants aren’t animals, you’re both thinking. 

11. Can you swim? Can you drive? How fast can you run?

Before he can go on a tangent about how many germs are in water and how dangerous it can be to your health, he pauses. “Drive?” He echoes, eyebrows furrowed. “Like... driving a horse and cart? I’ve got no need to do that.” Although his outfit - a silvery jumpsuit, loose-fitting oriental jacket and gas-mask look high-tech, his gap in knowledge about cars almost concerns you. “I don’t run much,” He adds, a little awkwardly. 

“He used to be the fastest in town.”

“I don’t run much,” Olly insists. 

12. Have you ever been hit on purpose?

[Childhood abuse tw]

“Maliciously? No.” He’s lying, but you’re not going to push it. It’s one of the questions you were least comfortable with. Atlas also does not push it, and for a moment, you consider turning around to ask them how they got here. Before you can put the thought into action, though, Olly speaks again. 

“I mean, yeah. I have been. Um.” He laughs a little awkwardly. The noise doesn’t suit him. “Dad wanted the ideal child and the first one is always the prototype, always the mistake. It was best to sit down and shut up in my house, and that mostly worked, but not always.” He pauses, and the silence is deafening, and you want to say something but you’re not sure what to say. “Poor Dolly, though,” He adds. “She never knew when to stop.”

If you want to do it please do and then also pretend I tagged you I do not have the mental energy to come up with questions or people to tag so use the same questions plz thnx bye xox